Post by Derek Grant on Mar 3, 2009 20:57:09 GMT 1
"..What the hell is this..."
Derek stood between the wall posts of the entrance to Hircine grounds. Just before the plaza fountain, and just in front of the streets entrance. Everyone was in class...strike one. Derek stopped for a moment, jaw slightly open, eyes wide and searching. He turned to look over his left shoulder, back at the semi-patronising welcome sign. He was definitely in the right place. Hircine High.
A wave of confusion hit him immediately. Of course, he had no desire to achieve in this school. He had no use for grades, and occupational inspirations. He was here to lie low after what he had done in Detroit. He went here specifically because of the sterling reputation he had heard so much about. Student riots, gangs, anarchy! Teachers getting whats coming to them, getting injured, even killed in some of the more exaggerated rumours he had heard. He looked at what seemed to be a pristine clean, unaltered high school. No exterior signs of abuse. At all. Derek found himself disappointed.
He had heard about this school a fair few years ago, and Varron before that. He was intrigued, fascinated. He had no right to expect arriving to the scene of a battle, but a boy can dream. He sighed deeply, looking back ahead, and placing his hands in his trouser pockets. He scuffed his feet and walked lazily to what he assumed was the reception. He tried to stay optimistic. Don't lose hope yet. He thought to himself, and never judge a book by it's cover.
He had been researching the recent events of the school, and it seemed to be calming down with the arrival of Paragon Institute. On hindsight, that would have been a better choice. Or would it? A school already engaged in a power struggle is no challenge to manipulate. The general populace probably consisted of mindless thugs carving random spheres of influence. Derek snorted slightly. Amateurs. Still, maybe the reputation and mind set could be salvaged with a few carefully placed conspiracies. Derek began to smile. He had forgotten why he was disappointed.
He raised one hand to adjust his shades, and brush the intruding hair from his face. He stopped for a moment. The steel beads around his wrist resonated as he returned his hand to his side. He took in the surroundings, before entering.
To any it would be an idealic situation. A school accepting him without hesitation, despite his intentional masking of his past. Hell, he had not been in a school since he was ten, he only had cheap forged certificates, a snakes tongue, and some poker face. He couldn't wait to assess the consensus of this schools students, and get to work. He rubbed his hands together as he entered the school.
It was still clean, but at least there were subtle implications of civil unrest. A dent in the occasional locker, a broken window here and there, and a school battling for reputation would fix these things immediately. They could have been fresh.
"Hello. I'm the new student here, Derek Grant." He said confidently to the receptionist. His deep thought filtered the unnecessary information the receptionist fed him, but the files she handed him caught his attention. Probably the usual 'Welcome' letter, lesson time table, perhaps a map? Either way he swiftly chucked it under his arm, clutched in his chest, and moved to the right abruptly. He strolled prominently, and in no haste. He took a quick glance at his files, apparently he had Natural History first. He folded his timetable up and stuffed it in his pocket, then extended his arm with the rest. He walked a few metres, then dropped the files into the garbage can.
He stretched his arms out and smiled again, exclaiming a little, then he turned left and swung through the door. He class silent. He didn't know whether they were pre to his arrival. The teacher said something, the only words Derek made out were 'new', 'sit' and 'there'. He assumed he was welcomed and instructed where to sit, so he strolled round the desks, and took a seat just behind where he was instructed. The teacher muttered something. Derek removed his shades, and leaned back in his chair, making a gesture to symbolise a desire for him to continue.
Derek sighed again while stretching his arms, and massaged his knuckles, they clicked as he did. He looked around the class for a while, waiting for someone to do something unexpected. He knew they were conformists, but he had presumed they were at least human.
Derek stood between the wall posts of the entrance to Hircine grounds. Just before the plaza fountain, and just in front of the streets entrance. Everyone was in class...strike one. Derek stopped for a moment, jaw slightly open, eyes wide and searching. He turned to look over his left shoulder, back at the semi-patronising welcome sign. He was definitely in the right place. Hircine High.
A wave of confusion hit him immediately. Of course, he had no desire to achieve in this school. He had no use for grades, and occupational inspirations. He was here to lie low after what he had done in Detroit. He went here specifically because of the sterling reputation he had heard so much about. Student riots, gangs, anarchy! Teachers getting whats coming to them, getting injured, even killed in some of the more exaggerated rumours he had heard. He looked at what seemed to be a pristine clean, unaltered high school. No exterior signs of abuse. At all. Derek found himself disappointed.
He had heard about this school a fair few years ago, and Varron before that. He was intrigued, fascinated. He had no right to expect arriving to the scene of a battle, but a boy can dream. He sighed deeply, looking back ahead, and placing his hands in his trouser pockets. He scuffed his feet and walked lazily to what he assumed was the reception. He tried to stay optimistic. Don't lose hope yet. He thought to himself, and never judge a book by it's cover.
He had been researching the recent events of the school, and it seemed to be calming down with the arrival of Paragon Institute. On hindsight, that would have been a better choice. Or would it? A school already engaged in a power struggle is no challenge to manipulate. The general populace probably consisted of mindless thugs carving random spheres of influence. Derek snorted slightly. Amateurs. Still, maybe the reputation and mind set could be salvaged with a few carefully placed conspiracies. Derek began to smile. He had forgotten why he was disappointed.
He raised one hand to adjust his shades, and brush the intruding hair from his face. He stopped for a moment. The steel beads around his wrist resonated as he returned his hand to his side. He took in the surroundings, before entering.
To any it would be an idealic situation. A school accepting him without hesitation, despite his intentional masking of his past. Hell, he had not been in a school since he was ten, he only had cheap forged certificates, a snakes tongue, and some poker face. He couldn't wait to assess the consensus of this schools students, and get to work. He rubbed his hands together as he entered the school.
It was still clean, but at least there were subtle implications of civil unrest. A dent in the occasional locker, a broken window here and there, and a school battling for reputation would fix these things immediately. They could have been fresh.
"Hello. I'm the new student here, Derek Grant." He said confidently to the receptionist. His deep thought filtered the unnecessary information the receptionist fed him, but the files she handed him caught his attention. Probably the usual 'Welcome' letter, lesson time table, perhaps a map? Either way he swiftly chucked it under his arm, clutched in his chest, and moved to the right abruptly. He strolled prominently, and in no haste. He took a quick glance at his files, apparently he had Natural History first. He folded his timetable up and stuffed it in his pocket, then extended his arm with the rest. He walked a few metres, then dropped the files into the garbage can.
He stretched his arms out and smiled again, exclaiming a little, then he turned left and swung through the door. He class silent. He didn't know whether they were pre to his arrival. The teacher said something, the only words Derek made out were 'new', 'sit' and 'there'. He assumed he was welcomed and instructed where to sit, so he strolled round the desks, and took a seat just behind where he was instructed. The teacher muttered something. Derek removed his shades, and leaned back in his chair, making a gesture to symbolise a desire for him to continue.
Derek sighed again while stretching his arms, and massaged his knuckles, they clicked as he did. He looked around the class for a while, waiting for someone to do something unexpected. He knew they were conformists, but he had presumed they were at least human.
