>Hey Maxwell, you there?
>….
>Maxwell?
Cold glanced at the clock on the library wall. Lunch was almost over, and still nothing from Maxwell. His friend hadn’t been online very much the past few days. The last time they talked, Maxwell had just said that he “was going to be very busy,” but that he’d get in touch whenever he could. That had been a week ago, and still no word.
Lunch was starting to feel like it had on the first day of school for Cold. Just another empty period, filling in the space of an empty day. Theater club was probably the only time he ever talked to anyone at this school. Would anyone even notice if he just grabbed his backpack and went home right now? His teachers already tended to miss him during roll and mark him absent anyways, so there was no reason not to really be absent for once. Maybe he’d just not show up to school again….
“Hey Cold Boy!” The unmistakable buzzing of the Intrusion’s voice cut through the library’s silence. “You in here?” Intrusion and Dying were at the doors of the library, peering in as if gazing into a strange and foreign land. Cold rushed over to them, if only to stop them from making any more noise.
“I’m here.” Cold said. “Did you need something?”
“Intrusion wants players for his dumb game.” Dying grumpily muttered.
“Yeah, I’m trying to set up a gaming group!” Intrusion said. “I’m going to be running World of Darkness, and wanted to know if you’d be interested in joining us.”
“Yes!” Cold’s face lit up. “Of course! I’d love to! Um… what’s World of Darkness?”
Monday, March 7, 2016
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Ominous Council of Vagueness
Envision the scene. A plain, wooden door. A door so boring that anyone who saw it in the mayor’s office wouldn’t have given it even the smallest of thought. Anyone who did think on it would, at most, assume it to be the door for a broom closet. And yet, were they to open the door, beyond it they would find something that seemed to come out of their dreams.
It’s hard to say which aspect of the dark room beyond that door would be noticed first. Perhaps it would be its size. In the deep shadows that filled the room, it was near impossible to guess how large it was. Or perhaps the observer would be too stunned by sight of stars, nebulas, and galaxies floating in the darkness above them. Once they overcame their awe at the celestial scenery, this observer’s eyes would undoubtedly next be drawn to the sole source of illumination in the room. At the center of the room, resting atop a pedestal, was a glass orb which glowed with a faint blue light. Looking closer into the orb, they would see it was filled gears and pendulums which turned and moved with the rhythm of an alien metronome.
That blue light was just enough to show the silhouettes of the two figures in the room, but not reveal their identities. One, a massive hunched figure, spoke. His voice sounded like the rasping of chains being dragged across bone. It was the sound of mountains eroding, the soft sobs of tortured slaves, the final gasps of broken corpses. It was a voice which echoed silent whispers of dread in your ears long after the speaker had finished.
“Gosh it’s dark in here.” He said. “Can’t we install some more lights or something?”
“NO.” The second figure said. This was a voice filled with power and authority. The stars above them shifted as its sound washed over them. This was a voice which would make the proudest kings bend knee, and which could command thousands of men to throw themselves into fire. “CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW EXPENSIVE IT WOULD BE TO HIRE ENOUGH CONTRACTORS TO LIGHT UP THIS WHOLE PLACE?”
The first speaker shrugged. Money matters weren’t his problem.
“ENOUGH ABOUT LIGHTS. WHAT HAVE YOU OBSERVED?” The second speaker commanded.
“The rumors of the Glitch fragments returning were true. Their presence has been sensed throughout the city. However….” The speaker shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “There seems to have been a… complication.”
“WHAT KIND OF… COMPLICATION?”
“It appears a new mahou shoujo has been chosen. She has destroyed one of our Pawns, and already has three pieces of the Glitch in her possession.”
The second figure laughed at that statement, as the stars danced above him. “IS THAT ALL? WE HAVE LONG BEEN PREPARED TO FACE SUCH AN OBSTACLE.” He waved his hand at the door to the room. “ENTER, MY CHILD.”
A third figure appeared in the room. They were shorter than the other two, and spoke with a quieter, feminine voice. But hidden in that softness was an unquenchable hunger; a hunger to control and consume. “Yes, my lord?”
“THE TIME HAS COME FOR OUR FATED BATTLE WITH THE MAHOU SHOJOU. OUR PAWNS WILL NOT BE ENOUGH TO COLLECT THE GLITCH PIECES ANYMORE. WE REQUIRE YOUR EXPERTISE.”
The figure bowed. “I look forward for the chance to test my powers.”
“GOOD. SOON, OUR DREAM WILL FINALLY BE ACHIEVED. I, THE ARCHITECT, COMMAND YOU: FIND THE SHARDS OF THE GLITCH, AND DESTROY ANYONE WHO STANDS IN YOUR WAY.”
It’s hard to say which aspect of the dark room beyond that door would be noticed first. Perhaps it would be its size. In the deep shadows that filled the room, it was near impossible to guess how large it was. Or perhaps the observer would be too stunned by sight of stars, nebulas, and galaxies floating in the darkness above them. Once they overcame their awe at the celestial scenery, this observer’s eyes would undoubtedly next be drawn to the sole source of illumination in the room. At the center of the room, resting atop a pedestal, was a glass orb which glowed with a faint blue light. Looking closer into the orb, they would see it was filled gears and pendulums which turned and moved with the rhythm of an alien metronome.
That blue light was just enough to show the silhouettes of the two figures in the room, but not reveal their identities. One, a massive hunched figure, spoke. His voice sounded like the rasping of chains being dragged across bone. It was the sound of mountains eroding, the soft sobs of tortured slaves, the final gasps of broken corpses. It was a voice which echoed silent whispers of dread in your ears long after the speaker had finished.
“Gosh it’s dark in here.” He said. “Can’t we install some more lights or something?”
“NO.” The second figure said. This was a voice filled with power and authority. The stars above them shifted as its sound washed over them. This was a voice which would make the proudest kings bend knee, and which could command thousands of men to throw themselves into fire. “CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW EXPENSIVE IT WOULD BE TO HIRE ENOUGH CONTRACTORS TO LIGHT UP THIS WHOLE PLACE?”
The first speaker shrugged. Money matters weren’t his problem.
“ENOUGH ABOUT LIGHTS. WHAT HAVE YOU OBSERVED?” The second speaker commanded.
“The rumors of the Glitch fragments returning were true. Their presence has been sensed throughout the city. However….” The speaker shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “There seems to have been a… complication.”
“WHAT KIND OF… COMPLICATION?”
“It appears a new mahou shoujo has been chosen. She has destroyed one of our Pawns, and already has three pieces of the Glitch in her possession.”
The second figure laughed at that statement, as the stars danced above him. “IS THAT ALL? WE HAVE LONG BEEN PREPARED TO FACE SUCH AN OBSTACLE.” He waved his hand at the door to the room. “ENTER, MY CHILD.”
A third figure appeared in the room. They were shorter than the other two, and spoke with a quieter, feminine voice. But hidden in that softness was an unquenchable hunger; a hunger to control and consume. “Yes, my lord?”
“THE TIME HAS COME FOR OUR FATED BATTLE WITH THE MAHOU SHOJOU. OUR PAWNS WILL NOT BE ENOUGH TO COLLECT THE GLITCH PIECES ANYMORE. WE REQUIRE YOUR EXPERTISE.”
The figure bowed. “I look forward for the chance to test my powers.”
“GOOD. SOON, OUR DREAM WILL FINALLY BE ACHIEVED. I, THE ARCHITECT, COMMAND YOU: FIND THE SHARDS OF THE GLITCH, AND DESTROY ANYONE WHO STANDS IN YOUR WAY.”
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Whatever Happened to Secret Identities?
“Alright, good job everyone, let’s wrap things up!” Mr. Steward said to the Theater Club. The cast and crew broke apart to put away equipment and head out. Wooden caught Salmacis before she could leave to say, “Great job with the music! Good thing you went back to get your flute, right?”
“Yeah…” Salmacis smiled nervously. She appreciated the compliment, but…. “Getting it was… interesting.”
Wooden laughed, not quite understanding the comment. “Well, I’m going to stay here and get some more stuff cleaned up. See you tomorrow!”
“See you!” Salmacis left Wooden to her work. If she ignored the craziness in the morning, this had been a good day. Maybe things would turn out alright. Maybe Jaja-chan would find someone else to be a “mahout shojou.” Someone who actually wanted the job. By the time Salmacis was walking down the halls, she had almost entirely convinced herself that, without any doubt, when she next saw Jaja-chan he would tell her that picking her was a terrible mistake and that he was sorry for all the stress he had caused. Ah, there he was right now, running to her. Soon this whole mess would all be in the past.
“There you are!” Jaja-chan shouted. “You need to come with me right now! I sense a fragment of the Glitch nearby!”
Well so much for getting out of this. Salmacis quietly sighed, and asked, “Where is it?”
“In the theater room! Hurry!”
“But I was just in the….” Jaja-chan had already run past her. Internally Salmacis debated whether following him was the right thing, but her feet started following after Jaja-chan immediately.
Salmacis had been preparing to find the theater room in chaos. Instead, it looked the same as she’d left it. Maybe a little emptier, since everyone else had gone home. Certainly no Pawns or hints of anything magical. Jaja-chan scurried around the room, peeking into every corner. “It’s around here somewhere… I can feel it….” He muttered.
Salmacis was content to let him search. Honestly she wasn’t entirely clear on why she needed to be here. If Jaja-chan could sense the pieces of the Glitch, why couldn’t he just run around and find them all? Recruiting a young girl to wave a magical staff around and shoot laser beams didn’t seem that necessary, all things considered. Surely he’d realize that as well. This was going to be when he decided to let her stop being a mahout shojou. Any second now. Bound to happen.
The footsteps behind her nearly made Salmacis scream. She swung around, wielding her backpack like a mighty shield to defend herself from the Pawn attack which was surely coming for her. But instead of a Pawn, the Wooden Girl was behind her. Right! Wooden had stayed behind! Salmacis laughed at her overreaction. “Sorry, you startled me.”
Wooden didn’t respond. Or at least, she didn’t respond with words. Her mouth opened. And then it opened more. And then even more, like an expanding black hole in her face. The noise she made could have been called a scream, but it sounded more like the noise a giant robot bear battling hundreds of ostriches would make. Wooden’s eyes turned into red flowers, from which small flying spiders emerged.
Amidst the terrible noise coming from Wooden, Salmacis couldn’t hear her own screams. When she saw Wooden growing a third, elongated and spindly arm out of her back, she turned and ran for the door. Wooden leapt impossibly high over her, and landed in her path. Wooden’s arms turned into violet striped claws, which she used to slash at Salmacis.
“What’s going on?” Salmacis sobbed as she fell back from the attack.
“She’s been possessed by the Glitch!” Jaja-chan said. “Quickly! You must transform to save her!”
“I don’t know how!” She shouted as she stumbled from another of Wooden’s attacks. “It just happened on its own last time!”
“You must hold aloft your staff and recite the magical chant!”
“I have to WHAT?”
“Grab your flute and say ‘Magical Transformation-desu!’”
“Why does the chant sound so lame?”
“Look are you going to argue with the magical talking cat or are you going to do it?”
With terror and embarrassment fighting for emotional dominance, Salmacis pulled out the Glitch-infected flute and whispered, “Magical transformation-desu….” There was a bright flash of blue light, and she had once again become a magical girl!
Wooden attacked again, firing exploding bees out of her palms, but Salmacis flew over them. When Wooden tried leaping up to attack her, Salmcis blasted her away with an energy beam. “Sorry! I’m so sorry!” She yelled at her fallen friend. Wooden didn’t seem to care, and tried launching more bees at Salmacis. As she dodged the exploding insects, Salmacis said to Jaja-chan, “How do I fix her?”
“You must use your special finishing move!”
“And how do I do that?”
“Point your staff at her and say something magical sounding?”
“Something… magical sounding?”
“Well since you so clearly didn’t like my transformation chant, let’s see if you can come up with something better!”
Salmacis aimed her magical staff at Wooden and stuttered, “Magical… um… magical….”
“Not so easy, is it?”
“Quiet, I’m thinking! Magical… um…. Magical Heart Laser Beam!” A blue heart shaped beam of energy fired from her staff, striking Wooden. When the energy beam dissipated, Wooden was lying on the ground, her body back to normal. When she didn’t open her eyes, Salmacis flew down and started shaking her. “Wooden! Are you okay? Come on Wooden, wake up!”
Wooden sleepily opened her eyes. “Salmacis…?”
Salmacis hugged her friend. “Oh thank god, I thought I’d hurt you! I’m so sorry about this!”
“Salmacis… “Wooden struggled to speak. “That was…. The coolest thing ever!” Wooden broke out of Salmacis’ embrace so she could leap to her feet. “You were flying around and shooting laser beams and look at that outfit it’s so cute why didn’t you tell me you could do magic that’s so awesome!!!”
“Um….” Salmacis was completely unprepared to deal with this enthusiasm. She looked to Jaja-chan for some kind of assistance as he sauntered over. A second shining glass ball had appeared on his collar.
“Very good job, Salmacis.” He said with a smugness that only a cat can pull off. “I told you that you could do it.”
“And you have a talking cat!” Wooden nearly squealed with delight. “That’s amazing!”
“Why yes, I am amazing.” Jaja-chan purred at the compliment.
“Come on Salmacis, you have to tell me about all your magical adventures!” Wooden said as she grabbed Salmacis’ hand. Whether she liked it or not, Salmacis was getting the feeling she was going to be stuck with this job for longer than she’d hoped….
“Yeah…” Salmacis smiled nervously. She appreciated the compliment, but…. “Getting it was… interesting.”
Wooden laughed, not quite understanding the comment. “Well, I’m going to stay here and get some more stuff cleaned up. See you tomorrow!”
“See you!” Salmacis left Wooden to her work. If she ignored the craziness in the morning, this had been a good day. Maybe things would turn out alright. Maybe Jaja-chan would find someone else to be a “mahout shojou.” Someone who actually wanted the job. By the time Salmacis was walking down the halls, she had almost entirely convinced herself that, without any doubt, when she next saw Jaja-chan he would tell her that picking her was a terrible mistake and that he was sorry for all the stress he had caused. Ah, there he was right now, running to her. Soon this whole mess would all be in the past.
“There you are!” Jaja-chan shouted. “You need to come with me right now! I sense a fragment of the Glitch nearby!”
Well so much for getting out of this. Salmacis quietly sighed, and asked, “Where is it?”
“In the theater room! Hurry!”
“But I was just in the….” Jaja-chan had already run past her. Internally Salmacis debated whether following him was the right thing, but her feet started following after Jaja-chan immediately.
Salmacis had been preparing to find the theater room in chaos. Instead, it looked the same as she’d left it. Maybe a little emptier, since everyone else had gone home. Certainly no Pawns or hints of anything magical. Jaja-chan scurried around the room, peeking into every corner. “It’s around here somewhere… I can feel it….” He muttered.
Salmacis was content to let him search. Honestly she wasn’t entirely clear on why she needed to be here. If Jaja-chan could sense the pieces of the Glitch, why couldn’t he just run around and find them all? Recruiting a young girl to wave a magical staff around and shoot laser beams didn’t seem that necessary, all things considered. Surely he’d realize that as well. This was going to be when he decided to let her stop being a mahout shojou. Any second now. Bound to happen.
The footsteps behind her nearly made Salmacis scream. She swung around, wielding her backpack like a mighty shield to defend herself from the Pawn attack which was surely coming for her. But instead of a Pawn, the Wooden Girl was behind her. Right! Wooden had stayed behind! Salmacis laughed at her overreaction. “Sorry, you startled me.”
Wooden didn’t respond. Or at least, she didn’t respond with words. Her mouth opened. And then it opened more. And then even more, like an expanding black hole in her face. The noise she made could have been called a scream, but it sounded more like the noise a giant robot bear battling hundreds of ostriches would make. Wooden’s eyes turned into red flowers, from which small flying spiders emerged.
Amidst the terrible noise coming from Wooden, Salmacis couldn’t hear her own screams. When she saw Wooden growing a third, elongated and spindly arm out of her back, she turned and ran for the door. Wooden leapt impossibly high over her, and landed in her path. Wooden’s arms turned into violet striped claws, which she used to slash at Salmacis.
“What’s going on?” Salmacis sobbed as she fell back from the attack.
“She’s been possessed by the Glitch!” Jaja-chan said. “Quickly! You must transform to save her!”
“I don’t know how!” She shouted as she stumbled from another of Wooden’s attacks. “It just happened on its own last time!”
“You must hold aloft your staff and recite the magical chant!”
“I have to WHAT?”
“Grab your flute and say ‘Magical Transformation-desu!’”
“Why does the chant sound so lame?”
“Look are you going to argue with the magical talking cat or are you going to do it?”
With terror and embarrassment fighting for emotional dominance, Salmacis pulled out the Glitch-infected flute and whispered, “Magical transformation-desu….” There was a bright flash of blue light, and she had once again become a magical girl!
Wooden attacked again, firing exploding bees out of her palms, but Salmacis flew over them. When Wooden tried leaping up to attack her, Salmcis blasted her away with an energy beam. “Sorry! I’m so sorry!” She yelled at her fallen friend. Wooden didn’t seem to care, and tried launching more bees at Salmacis. As she dodged the exploding insects, Salmacis said to Jaja-chan, “How do I fix her?”
“You must use your special finishing move!”
“And how do I do that?”
“Point your staff at her and say something magical sounding?”
“Something… magical sounding?”
“Well since you so clearly didn’t like my transformation chant, let’s see if you can come up with something better!”
Salmacis aimed her magical staff at Wooden and stuttered, “Magical… um… magical….”
“Not so easy, is it?”
“Quiet, I’m thinking! Magical… um…. Magical Heart Laser Beam!” A blue heart shaped beam of energy fired from her staff, striking Wooden. When the energy beam dissipated, Wooden was lying on the ground, her body back to normal. When she didn’t open her eyes, Salmacis flew down and started shaking her. “Wooden! Are you okay? Come on Wooden, wake up!”
Wooden sleepily opened her eyes. “Salmacis…?”
Salmacis hugged her friend. “Oh thank god, I thought I’d hurt you! I’m so sorry about this!”
“Salmacis… “Wooden struggled to speak. “That was…. The coolest thing ever!” Wooden broke out of Salmacis’ embrace so she could leap to her feet. “You were flying around and shooting laser beams and look at that outfit it’s so cute why didn’t you tell me you could do magic that’s so awesome!!!”
“Um….” Salmacis was completely unprepared to deal with this enthusiasm. She looked to Jaja-chan for some kind of assistance as he sauntered over. A second shining glass ball had appeared on his collar.
“Very good job, Salmacis.” He said with a smugness that only a cat can pull off. “I told you that you could do it.”
“And you have a talking cat!” Wooden nearly squealed with delight. “That’s amazing!”
“Why yes, I am amazing.” Jaja-chan purred at the compliment.
“Come on Salmacis, you have to tell me about all your magical adventures!” Wooden said as she grabbed Salmacis’ hand. Whether she liked it or not, Salmacis was getting the feeling she was going to be stuck with this job for longer than she’d hoped….
Friday, February 19, 2016
Broadcast #1
A television placed at the front of the classroom flipped on, showing the Mother of Snakes sitting behind a desk, face holding the most enthusiastic of phony smiles. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen! I’m Mother of Snakes, and welcome to the first Empty City High School broadcast!” She paused, as if waiting for cheers to die down. In not one classroom did a single student cheer. “We owe this program to a very generous donation from our mayor, the Architect, who provided our Media department with the equipment needed to run a televised broadcast!”
Once again, Snakes waited for an applause that never came. Unaware of this lack of enthusiasm, she went on in the same scriptedly enthusiastic tone. “For our first broadcast, we have a very special guest! Principal Jack himself!” A drumroll played and the camera panned right, pulling an empty chair into the shot. Snakes’ eyes looked between the chair and the camera, her smile becoming increasingly nervous. “Principal… Jack!” She said again. Jack remained absent. “It looks like the Principal’s a little tardy, haha!” Flashes of anger were trying to break out from Snake’s cheerful mask. “We’ll just move onto the rest of the program then!”
“Wait!” Jack ran into the shot, still trying to put on his tie with one hand and his white coat with the other. “Sorry for the delay. There was an issue with… an animal on school grounds. All resolved now, though.”
“Well then Mr. Jack, you said you had a short announcement for the school?” Snakes said.
“Of course. Thank you, Mother of Snakes.” The camera turned so that Jack was at the center of the shot. “I know it’s only been two months since the school year began, but this year has felt like an eventful one so far. And I expect that even more exciting adventures lay in store for our students.” Jack steepled his fingers and smirked. “Yes, it feels like change is coming. And I am looking forward to seeing what fun comes out of it all.”
Once again, Snakes waited for an applause that never came. Unaware of this lack of enthusiasm, she went on in the same scriptedly enthusiastic tone. “For our first broadcast, we have a very special guest! Principal Jack himself!” A drumroll played and the camera panned right, pulling an empty chair into the shot. Snakes’ eyes looked between the chair and the camera, her smile becoming increasingly nervous. “Principal… Jack!” She said again. Jack remained absent. “It looks like the Principal’s a little tardy, haha!” Flashes of anger were trying to break out from Snake’s cheerful mask. “We’ll just move onto the rest of the program then!”
“Wait!” Jack ran into the shot, still trying to put on his tie with one hand and his white coat with the other. “Sorry for the delay. There was an issue with… an animal on school grounds. All resolved now, though.”
“Well then Mr. Jack, you said you had a short announcement for the school?” Snakes said.
“Of course. Thank you, Mother of Snakes.” The camera turned so that Jack was at the center of the shot. “I know it’s only been two months since the school year began, but this year has felt like an eventful one so far. And I expect that even more exciting adventures lay in store for our students.” Jack steepled his fingers and smirked. “Yes, it feels like change is coming. And I am looking forward to seeing what fun comes out of it all.”
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Magical Exposition Cat
This was without a doubt the strangest day of Salmacis’s life. Not only was magic real, but she could now use it. Half her house had been destroyed in a battle against a monster named after a chess piece. And there was the flying, talking cat that was still following her around. Which she probably wouldn’t mind as much if it would stop calling her “the destined Mahou Shojou!” and insisting she needed to go on a magical journey to find more pieces of the Glitch.
“Um, if it’s alright with you Mr. Jaja-chan, I, um, think I’d rather just let someone else handle that.” Salmacis said as she walked down the sidewalk. Her bike had been an unfortunate casualty of her battle, meaning it was going to be a long trip back to school.
“Nonsense! Fate has chosen you as its champion. We must begin searching for more shards of the Glitch immediately!” Jaja-chan said as he floated next to Salmacis.
“I didn’t even know magic was real until a few minutes ago! How am I supposed to do any adventuring if I don’t know the first thing about what’s happening to me?”
Jaja-chan sighed. Well, more meowed. Meowed in a manner reminiscent of a sigh. “Alright, let me start from the beginning….
“Long ago, my race was the guardians of the Glitch. It was a time of magical peace and prosperity. But Dark Forces rose to shatter our peace. These forces of Darkness sought to claim the Glitch for themselves, and rule over the world as tyrants. The battle between my people and these evildoers was a terrible one, and left me as the last surviving member of my race. In order to stop the Evil, I used all my power to seal both it and myself away. However, that much strain caused the Glitch to shatter into the thirteen pieces it is now. For millennia, the seal kept the Dark Forces at bay. But they have now broken free, and seek to claim the Glitch to achieve their goal of total magical domination of the world. I was able to collect one piece on my own,” Jaja-chan indicated the glowing glass ball on his collar, “but the remaining 12 eluded me. But now that you have become a Mahou Shojou, you can go forth and save the world from evil’s grasp!” Jaja-chan finished dramatically.
Salmacis stared at him with narrowed eyes. “What?” He said.
“That story… sounds really fishy.” Salmacis muttered.
“Oh, so now you’re an expert on magical history?”
“No, but… why did you have to seal yourself away as well as the evil? Why is the evil just some kind of vaguely defined ‘Force of Darkness’ instead of having an actual name? Why doesn’t your own race have a name? If the pieces of the Glitch have been floating around for millennia, how come they’ve never come up before this? How did the Forces of Darkness escape the seal anyways? What even do you mean by sealing them away, how does that even work? How many millennia are we talking, because written history actually goes back several thousand years already so unless we’re talking over 6,000 years back this should still be something we have record of. Where do Magical Girls even come into the picture? How does it work that a race of talking cats are the guardians of the Glitch, but only a person can harness its power to become a Magical Girl? What even is magic anyways, like, what were those blue beams I was firing out of the staff? Some form of plasma? But there should have been significantly more heat were that the case, which means-”
“Whatever happened to young girls dreaming of becoming Mahou Shojou and having magical journeys?”
“I never agreed to have any magical journeys!” Salmacis shouted, a little upset about him interrupting her stream of questions.
“Ah! But you did! You formed a contract!”
“It was a stressful situation! Contracts formed under duress aren’t legally binding!”
Jaja-chan glared at her as best as his cat face could. Then he turned away and thought for a moment. “That’s a shame. You’re missing out on… on getting your wish.”
“My what?”
“The Glitch is a very powerful piece of magic. If a Mahou Shojou were to gather all the pieces together, it may have enough magic to grant her one wish. It could be any wish she want. Money, a lifetime supply of cake, love….”
“That… sounds even fishier than before.” Salmacis said, but there was the slightest hint of hesitation.
“I’ll let you think on it. But it seems we’ve reached your school. Since it would be suspicious for you to be seen with a flying cat, I shall take my leave.”
“Wait, I haven’t finished asking questions!” Salmacis said, but Jaja-chan had already vanished. Well, that hadn’t been as enlightening as she’d have liked. Time to see how much trouble she was going to be in for missing first period, then.
“Um, if it’s alright with you Mr. Jaja-chan, I, um, think I’d rather just let someone else handle that.” Salmacis said as she walked down the sidewalk. Her bike had been an unfortunate casualty of her battle, meaning it was going to be a long trip back to school.
“Nonsense! Fate has chosen you as its champion. We must begin searching for more shards of the Glitch immediately!” Jaja-chan said as he floated next to Salmacis.
“I didn’t even know magic was real until a few minutes ago! How am I supposed to do any adventuring if I don’t know the first thing about what’s happening to me?”
Jaja-chan sighed. Well, more meowed. Meowed in a manner reminiscent of a sigh. “Alright, let me start from the beginning….
“Long ago, my race was the guardians of the Glitch. It was a time of magical peace and prosperity. But Dark Forces rose to shatter our peace. These forces of Darkness sought to claim the Glitch for themselves, and rule over the world as tyrants. The battle between my people and these evildoers was a terrible one, and left me as the last surviving member of my race. In order to stop the Evil, I used all my power to seal both it and myself away. However, that much strain caused the Glitch to shatter into the thirteen pieces it is now. For millennia, the seal kept the Dark Forces at bay. But they have now broken free, and seek to claim the Glitch to achieve their goal of total magical domination of the world. I was able to collect one piece on my own,” Jaja-chan indicated the glowing glass ball on his collar, “but the remaining 12 eluded me. But now that you have become a Mahou Shojou, you can go forth and save the world from evil’s grasp!” Jaja-chan finished dramatically.
Salmacis stared at him with narrowed eyes. “What?” He said.
“That story… sounds really fishy.” Salmacis muttered.
“Oh, so now you’re an expert on magical history?”
“No, but… why did you have to seal yourself away as well as the evil? Why is the evil just some kind of vaguely defined ‘Force of Darkness’ instead of having an actual name? Why doesn’t your own race have a name? If the pieces of the Glitch have been floating around for millennia, how come they’ve never come up before this? How did the Forces of Darkness escape the seal anyways? What even do you mean by sealing them away, how does that even work? How many millennia are we talking, because written history actually goes back several thousand years already so unless we’re talking over 6,000 years back this should still be something we have record of. Where do Magical Girls even come into the picture? How does it work that a race of talking cats are the guardians of the Glitch, but only a person can harness its power to become a Magical Girl? What even is magic anyways, like, what were those blue beams I was firing out of the staff? Some form of plasma? But there should have been significantly more heat were that the case, which means-”
“Whatever happened to young girls dreaming of becoming Mahou Shojou and having magical journeys?”
“I never agreed to have any magical journeys!” Salmacis shouted, a little upset about him interrupting her stream of questions.
“Ah! But you did! You formed a contract!”
“It was a stressful situation! Contracts formed under duress aren’t legally binding!”
Jaja-chan glared at her as best as his cat face could. Then he turned away and thought for a moment. “That’s a shame. You’re missing out on… on getting your wish.”
“My what?”
“The Glitch is a very powerful piece of magic. If a Mahou Shojou were to gather all the pieces together, it may have enough magic to grant her one wish. It could be any wish she want. Money, a lifetime supply of cake, love….”
“That… sounds even fishier than before.” Salmacis said, but there was the slightest hint of hesitation.
“I’ll let you think on it. But it seems we’ve reached your school. Since it would be suspicious for you to be seen with a flying cat, I shall take my leave.”
“Wait, I haven’t finished asking questions!” Salmacis said, but Jaja-chan had already vanished. Well, that hadn’t been as enlightening as she’d have liked. Time to see how much trouble she was going to be in for missing first period, then.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Part 2: The Reboot No One Asked For
In her dream, Salmacis flew high in the skies of the Empty City. She could see everything up here. There was her family’s home, tucked amongst the neat rows of the suburbs. Over there was Empty City High School, still looking like an abstract sculpture frozen mid-explosion. There was the park, and the mayor’s office over there…. All the buildings were like toys this far up.
Salmacis twirled through the sky, laughing the whole time. This was amazing! She wished she could fly like this in real life. Being able to move so freely, without any worries. Or… maybe with one worry. Salmacis noticed that something was growing in the center of the city, right next to the mayor’s office. Its shape kept shifting as it grew, making it hard for her to identify what it was. She tried flying closer, but when she approached the sky turned red and a siren began to wail. A gust of wind hit Salmacis, throwing her around the sky like a leaf in a hurricane. That thing in the city had grown enough that it towered over the buildings around, like some kind of multicolored mountain of chaos. A giant, disjointed arm grew out of it, reaching right towards Salmacis. She was helpless as the fist closed around her, and….
***
The siren still seemed to be going off. Salmacis turned in her bed and tried covering her head with her pillow to drown it out, but the noise cut through everything else. Finally, she groggily opened her eyes and glared at its source. Her anger instantly became terror as she realized that the “siren” was, in fact, her alarm. It was 8:20 AM. She was going to be late to school.
With a scream, Salmacis threw herself out of bed, and threw on clothes. She continued to scream as she sprinted downstairs towards the kitchen. Breakfast! She needed a breakfast! It was the most important meal of the day! But she didn’t’ have time for breakfast! Salmacis threw open the pantry and tried finding something that could be made fast. Bread! Bread could be made into toast! Toast didn’t take long to make! Salmacis slammed the slice of bread down into the toaster so hard that for a moment she worried that she might have jammed it.
In the next room, her sister Ichor was lying on the couch watching television. Salmacis couldn’t believe her sister was still at home, lazing around. “Don’t you have to go to school, Ichor?” Salmacis asked, her words rushing out all at once.
“Nah,” Ichor said. “First period’s calculus. I already read the textbook all the way through. No reason to sit through Mr. Proxiehunter’s rambling.”
This complete disregard for the school’s attendance policy offended Salmacis’ sensibilities, but her bread had just popped out of the toaster. Salmacis grabbed the slice and ran outside. It looked like EAT had already left with the car, so she’d need to make it to school on bike. Salmacis only slowed down long enough to put on her helmet, then she jumped onto her bike and started pedaling away, the slice of toast hanging from her mouth.
Salmacis had never ridden as fast as she did today. The pain from pushing her body was nothing compared to the horror that she might be counted as tardy. She managed to make it to the school gates with just a few minutes to spare. Her friend, Wooden Girl, was waiting outside for her. “I’ve never seen you this late.” Wooden said.
“Sorry! I’m sorry! I overslept!” Salmacis said as she tied her bicycle to the bike rack.
“Don’t apologize.” Wooden said. “Are you ready for the rehearsal today?”
Salmacis stopped partway through tying her bike. “The what?”
“Our play rehearsal. Mr. Dooling wanted us to run through the musical parts. He asked you to bring your instrument to school for it.”
The memory of a flute carefully stored in its case lying next to her bed back home trickled into Salmacis’s mind. “Oh no….” She said. “I completely forgot it! Mr. Dooling’s going to be so mad at me!”
“What? Him? Nah, he’s a huge pushover.” Wooden said. “He’ll probably just have us do the rehearsal tomorrow. Don’t sweat it.”
Salmacis was clearly still sweating it. “No! I need to go back and get it!”
“Alright, alright. Go on ahead; I’ll cover for you 1st period.”
Salmacis hesitated at this dilemma. Having someone lie about attendance for her was Wrong. But not coming to school prepared was also Wrong. And every moment she spent debating between the two was time not spent running back home. In the end, her desire to not disappoint Mr. Dooling won out, and she turned her bike around to ride home.
The house was unusually still when Salmacis arrived. Even though she knew it wasn’t necessary, Salmacis found herself tiptoeing through the door to avoid disturbing the silence. As she neared the staircase, Salmacis heard a rumbling roar from the living room. She nearly ran back out of the door in fright. There was something else in the house with her. The roar came again, starting off low, then growing to a loud RRRRRRRRR before fading back away. Salmacis wondered if she should shout for help. Maybe call the police? But they’d want to know what was making the noise. She’d have to go to the living room and investigate.
Holding her backpack in front of her like a shield, Salmacis walked towards the source of the roar. It was even louder now. She couldn’t imagine what kind of beast could be making that kind of noise. Maybe a lion? A giant lion. A giant lion with two heads. Whatever it was, it was behind the couch. Steeling herself for whatever terrors she might find, Salmacis peeked over the couch.
Ichor was lying asleep on the couch, snoring like a train engine. Salmacis exhaled in relief. All that worry for nothing. Well, time to stop dawdling and get her flute. A quick jog up the stairs, and she found her case right next to her bed where she’d left it. Just to be extra sure, she opened up the case to check that it was still inside. Yup, still there. Except Salmacis didn’t recall her flute ever looking so… pixelated before. Or randomly changing colors. In all her past experiences with musical instruments, these were not considered normal occurrences. Ichor’s snoring seemed to be getting louder, but Salmacis ignored the roars. She poked the flute to see what would happen, and it turned green. How was she supposed to explain this to Mr. Dooling?
“You found it!” An unknown voice said. Salmacis looked around, but there was no one else around apart from her and a cat. It was a somewhat unusual looking cat; its fur was completely black, except for its right forepaw, which was bright red. It was wearing a white collar with a small glass ball which seemed to glow slightly. As Salmacis looked at it, it occurred to her that there shouldn’t have been a cat in her room.
The cat walked over to the flute case. “Very good. I’d been looking for this.” The cat said in a calm and sophisticated voice. At which point, Salmacis screamed.
“You’re talking!” She shouted at it.
“Of course I’m talking. I’m magical.”
“Cats don’t talk!”
“I already said, I’m magical.”
“Magic isn’t real!”
“Well, that’s unfortunate. I guess that means I can’t do this.” The cat began to float up into the air.
That was too much for Salmacis. She ran to the door and shouted, “Ichor! There’s a flying talking cat up here!” The only reply was another rrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRrrrrrrr.
“Oh, just calm down already.” The cat said. “I’m just a magical flying talking cat. It’s not as if I plan to eat you or any such thing.”
Salmacis let herself calm down slightly, but still remained by the door, ready to bolt out. “What’s… your name?”
“Why, my name is Ja….” The cat’s voice trailed off, and its eyes began darting nervously around. It seemed to be thinking very hard. “Um… Ja… chan. Yes.”
“Jaja-chan?”
“… Sure. We can go with that. And what is your name, child?”
“… I’m Salmacis.”
“Pleased to meet you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am here to collect the fragment of the Glitch.”
“The what?”
“The Glitch. It is an ancient source of magic once used by my people. However, it has been shattered into 13 pieces. One of those pieces appears to have possessed your flute. So if you would be so kind as to give it to me, I would be most grateful.”
“Oh. Um. Well, you see….” Salmacis looked down at her feet. “I, uh, kinda need my flute. For school.”
“Surely you aren’t suggesting that that your school is more important than the entire magical fate of the universe?”
“Well… I don’t know anything about magical fates of the universe… but I don’t want make Mr. Dooling mad….”
Jaja-chan sighed. “Why don’t we….”
Again, the roar came, now louder than ever. Far too loud to be snoring. Salmacis looked back out of her room. “Ichor? Is that you?”
A creature wearing a ragged black robe came charging up the stairs, roaring loudly. Most of its body was obscured by the robe, but its head was a smooth black sphere, and its limbs made of black bones. It carried a scythe, which it swung at Salmacis as it charged. Salmacis slammed the door shut, but the blade stabbed through the wood. “What is that?” She screamed.
“It’s a Pawn!” Jaja-chan said. “A creature of dark magic, which seeks to steal the pieces of the Glitch!” The scythe hit the door again, making it shatter. Salmacis grabbed her flute and jumped behind her bed, followed by Jaja-chan.
“Can’t you magic it away?” Salmacis yelled.
“I lack the power to defeat it, but you may be able to, Salmacis! If you become a Mahou Shoujo!”
“I don’t know what that is!”
“A Magical Girl who uses the power of the Glitch to battle evil!”
The Pawn’s scythe cute the bed in half, destroying Salmacis’s cover. The door was her only way out, but it was standing between her and it. “Okay! I’ll become a mahou whatever! What do I need to do?”
“We must form a contract. Shake my hand-Paw! Shake my paw.” Jaja-chan held out its red paw towards Salmacis. She grabbed the paw with her hand, then felt a sharp pain as Jaja-chan’s claws cut into her palm. He yanked his paw away, leaving behind five red marks on her hand. “With the blood of the signing party, the contract is formed!”
The cuts in Salmacis’s hand began to glow. The light soon covered her entire body. Salmacis felt like power was flowing into her. It was kinda tingly… bubbly? Floaty? Tinglbubblfloaty? Whatever it was, it felt good. A few moments later, the light faded away. Her clothes had changed drastically in the light. She was wearing a corset that seemed to be made of blue scales, and a white skirt with pale blue trim. Her flute had changed into a staff with a golden star on the end, which matched the star hair ornament that had appeared on her head. Salmacis took a moment to stare at herself, before she was interrupted by Jaja-chan shouting, “Watch out!”
The Pawn ran at Salmacis and swung its scythe at her. Salmacis jumped so high she hit the ceiling, but didn’t come down. “Oh my god I’m flying!” She yelled.
“Yes, good for you, now keep dodging!” Jaja-chan shouted back.
The Pawn continued to swing at Salmacis, who kept flying back just in time to avoid the attack. “Now what am I supposed to do?” She yelled at Jaja-chan.
“Point your staff at it, and then imagine unleashing a powerful attack!”
Salmacis did so, and a beam of blue light shot out of the star on the staff. The Pawn hit the beam with its scythe, deflecting it into the roof. “Good! Now keep doing that!” Jaja-chan said. The Pawn began to charge again. Salmacis closed her eyes and began wildly firing, screaming the whole time. When she stopped, she slowly opened her eyes. Most of the wall was gone, and half of the house’s roof was falling in. But the Pawn was on the ground, filled with dozens of holes. It tried to pull itself up, but collapsed into a pile of dust.
“I… I did it?” Salmacis said. There was a quick flash of light, and she was back in her regular clothes. “I did it!”
But then, Salmacis heard something moving behind her. Another Pawn? Was the fight not over yet? She spun around, ready to face this threat….
Ichor yawned and groggily looked at the rubble behind Salmacis. “Clean up this mess, sis.” She muttered. Then Ichor went back to the couch and fell asleep.
Salmacis twirled through the sky, laughing the whole time. This was amazing! She wished she could fly like this in real life. Being able to move so freely, without any worries. Or… maybe with one worry. Salmacis noticed that something was growing in the center of the city, right next to the mayor’s office. Its shape kept shifting as it grew, making it hard for her to identify what it was. She tried flying closer, but when she approached the sky turned red and a siren began to wail. A gust of wind hit Salmacis, throwing her around the sky like a leaf in a hurricane. That thing in the city had grown enough that it towered over the buildings around, like some kind of multicolored mountain of chaos. A giant, disjointed arm grew out of it, reaching right towards Salmacis. She was helpless as the fist closed around her, and….
***
The siren still seemed to be going off. Salmacis turned in her bed and tried covering her head with her pillow to drown it out, but the noise cut through everything else. Finally, she groggily opened her eyes and glared at its source. Her anger instantly became terror as she realized that the “siren” was, in fact, her alarm. It was 8:20 AM. She was going to be late to school.
With a scream, Salmacis threw herself out of bed, and threw on clothes. She continued to scream as she sprinted downstairs towards the kitchen. Breakfast! She needed a breakfast! It was the most important meal of the day! But she didn’t’ have time for breakfast! Salmacis threw open the pantry and tried finding something that could be made fast. Bread! Bread could be made into toast! Toast didn’t take long to make! Salmacis slammed the slice of bread down into the toaster so hard that for a moment she worried that she might have jammed it.
In the next room, her sister Ichor was lying on the couch watching television. Salmacis couldn’t believe her sister was still at home, lazing around. “Don’t you have to go to school, Ichor?” Salmacis asked, her words rushing out all at once.
“Nah,” Ichor said. “First period’s calculus. I already read the textbook all the way through. No reason to sit through Mr. Proxiehunter’s rambling.”
This complete disregard for the school’s attendance policy offended Salmacis’ sensibilities, but her bread had just popped out of the toaster. Salmacis grabbed the slice and ran outside. It looked like EAT had already left with the car, so she’d need to make it to school on bike. Salmacis only slowed down long enough to put on her helmet, then she jumped onto her bike and started pedaling away, the slice of toast hanging from her mouth.
Salmacis had never ridden as fast as she did today. The pain from pushing her body was nothing compared to the horror that she might be counted as tardy. She managed to make it to the school gates with just a few minutes to spare. Her friend, Wooden Girl, was waiting outside for her. “I’ve never seen you this late.” Wooden said.
“Sorry! I’m sorry! I overslept!” Salmacis said as she tied her bicycle to the bike rack.
“Don’t apologize.” Wooden said. “Are you ready for the rehearsal today?”
Salmacis stopped partway through tying her bike. “The what?”
“Our play rehearsal. Mr. Dooling wanted us to run through the musical parts. He asked you to bring your instrument to school for it.”
The memory of a flute carefully stored in its case lying next to her bed back home trickled into Salmacis’s mind. “Oh no….” She said. “I completely forgot it! Mr. Dooling’s going to be so mad at me!”
“What? Him? Nah, he’s a huge pushover.” Wooden said. “He’ll probably just have us do the rehearsal tomorrow. Don’t sweat it.”
Salmacis was clearly still sweating it. “No! I need to go back and get it!”
“Alright, alright. Go on ahead; I’ll cover for you 1st period.”
Salmacis hesitated at this dilemma. Having someone lie about attendance for her was Wrong. But not coming to school prepared was also Wrong. And every moment she spent debating between the two was time not spent running back home. In the end, her desire to not disappoint Mr. Dooling won out, and she turned her bike around to ride home.
The house was unusually still when Salmacis arrived. Even though she knew it wasn’t necessary, Salmacis found herself tiptoeing through the door to avoid disturbing the silence. As she neared the staircase, Salmacis heard a rumbling roar from the living room. She nearly ran back out of the door in fright. There was something else in the house with her. The roar came again, starting off low, then growing to a loud RRRRRRRRR before fading back away. Salmacis wondered if she should shout for help. Maybe call the police? But they’d want to know what was making the noise. She’d have to go to the living room and investigate.
Holding her backpack in front of her like a shield, Salmacis walked towards the source of the roar. It was even louder now. She couldn’t imagine what kind of beast could be making that kind of noise. Maybe a lion? A giant lion. A giant lion with two heads. Whatever it was, it was behind the couch. Steeling herself for whatever terrors she might find, Salmacis peeked over the couch.
Ichor was lying asleep on the couch, snoring like a train engine. Salmacis exhaled in relief. All that worry for nothing. Well, time to stop dawdling and get her flute. A quick jog up the stairs, and she found her case right next to her bed where she’d left it. Just to be extra sure, she opened up the case to check that it was still inside. Yup, still there. Except Salmacis didn’t recall her flute ever looking so… pixelated before. Or randomly changing colors. In all her past experiences with musical instruments, these were not considered normal occurrences. Ichor’s snoring seemed to be getting louder, but Salmacis ignored the roars. She poked the flute to see what would happen, and it turned green. How was she supposed to explain this to Mr. Dooling?
“You found it!” An unknown voice said. Salmacis looked around, but there was no one else around apart from her and a cat. It was a somewhat unusual looking cat; its fur was completely black, except for its right forepaw, which was bright red. It was wearing a white collar with a small glass ball which seemed to glow slightly. As Salmacis looked at it, it occurred to her that there shouldn’t have been a cat in her room.
The cat walked over to the flute case. “Very good. I’d been looking for this.” The cat said in a calm and sophisticated voice. At which point, Salmacis screamed.
“You’re talking!” She shouted at it.
“Of course I’m talking. I’m magical.”
“Cats don’t talk!”
“I already said, I’m magical.”
“Magic isn’t real!”
“Well, that’s unfortunate. I guess that means I can’t do this.” The cat began to float up into the air.
That was too much for Salmacis. She ran to the door and shouted, “Ichor! There’s a flying talking cat up here!” The only reply was another rrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRrrrrrrr.
“Oh, just calm down already.” The cat said. “I’m just a magical flying talking cat. It’s not as if I plan to eat you or any such thing.”
Salmacis let herself calm down slightly, but still remained by the door, ready to bolt out. “What’s… your name?”
“Why, my name is Ja….” The cat’s voice trailed off, and its eyes began darting nervously around. It seemed to be thinking very hard. “Um… Ja… chan. Yes.”
“Jaja-chan?”
“… Sure. We can go with that. And what is your name, child?”
“… I’m Salmacis.”
“Pleased to meet you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am here to collect the fragment of the Glitch.”
“The what?”
“The Glitch. It is an ancient source of magic once used by my people. However, it has been shattered into 13 pieces. One of those pieces appears to have possessed your flute. So if you would be so kind as to give it to me, I would be most grateful.”
“Oh. Um. Well, you see….” Salmacis looked down at her feet. “I, uh, kinda need my flute. For school.”
“Surely you aren’t suggesting that that your school is more important than the entire magical fate of the universe?”
“Well… I don’t know anything about magical fates of the universe… but I don’t want make Mr. Dooling mad….”
Jaja-chan sighed. “Why don’t we….”
Again, the roar came, now louder than ever. Far too loud to be snoring. Salmacis looked back out of her room. “Ichor? Is that you?”
A creature wearing a ragged black robe came charging up the stairs, roaring loudly. Most of its body was obscured by the robe, but its head was a smooth black sphere, and its limbs made of black bones. It carried a scythe, which it swung at Salmacis as it charged. Salmacis slammed the door shut, but the blade stabbed through the wood. “What is that?” She screamed.
“It’s a Pawn!” Jaja-chan said. “A creature of dark magic, which seeks to steal the pieces of the Glitch!” The scythe hit the door again, making it shatter. Salmacis grabbed her flute and jumped behind her bed, followed by Jaja-chan.
“Can’t you magic it away?” Salmacis yelled.
“I lack the power to defeat it, but you may be able to, Salmacis! If you become a Mahou Shoujo!”
“I don’t know what that is!”
“A Magical Girl who uses the power of the Glitch to battle evil!”
The Pawn’s scythe cute the bed in half, destroying Salmacis’s cover. The door was her only way out, but it was standing between her and it. “Okay! I’ll become a mahou whatever! What do I need to do?”
“We must form a contract. Shake my hand-Paw! Shake my paw.” Jaja-chan held out its red paw towards Salmacis. She grabbed the paw with her hand, then felt a sharp pain as Jaja-chan’s claws cut into her palm. He yanked his paw away, leaving behind five red marks on her hand. “With the blood of the signing party, the contract is formed!”
The cuts in Salmacis’s hand began to glow. The light soon covered her entire body. Salmacis felt like power was flowing into her. It was kinda tingly… bubbly? Floaty? Tinglbubblfloaty? Whatever it was, it felt good. A few moments later, the light faded away. Her clothes had changed drastically in the light. She was wearing a corset that seemed to be made of blue scales, and a white skirt with pale blue trim. Her flute had changed into a staff with a golden star on the end, which matched the star hair ornament that had appeared on her head. Salmacis took a moment to stare at herself, before she was interrupted by Jaja-chan shouting, “Watch out!”
The Pawn ran at Salmacis and swung its scythe at her. Salmacis jumped so high she hit the ceiling, but didn’t come down. “Oh my god I’m flying!” She yelled.
“Yes, good for you, now keep dodging!” Jaja-chan shouted back.
The Pawn continued to swing at Salmacis, who kept flying back just in time to avoid the attack. “Now what am I supposed to do?” She yelled at Jaja-chan.
“Point your staff at it, and then imagine unleashing a powerful attack!”
Salmacis did so, and a beam of blue light shot out of the star on the staff. The Pawn hit the beam with its scythe, deflecting it into the roof. “Good! Now keep doing that!” Jaja-chan said. The Pawn began to charge again. Salmacis closed her eyes and began wildly firing, screaming the whole time. When she stopped, she slowly opened her eyes. Most of the wall was gone, and half of the house’s roof was falling in. But the Pawn was on the ground, filled with dozens of holes. It tried to pull itself up, but collapsed into a pile of dust.
“I… I did it?” Salmacis said. There was a quick flash of light, and she was back in her regular clothes. “I did it!”
But then, Salmacis heard something moving behind her. Another Pawn? Was the fight not over yet? She spun around, ready to face this threat….
Ichor yawned and groggily looked at the rubble behind Salmacis. “Clean up this mess, sis.” She muttered. Then Ichor went back to the couch and fell asleep.
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Part 1: The Crossover No One Wanted
Principal Jack’s office was certainly much nicer than most would expect to find in a high school. It wasn’t excessively ornate or gaudy, but it had style. The sleek and modern furniture was all in whites and blacks, save the deep red curtains hanging on the window which took up most of the back wall. Jack himself was seated at his desk, staring at a computer screen with an expression so bored it seemed to imply that digging holes in the desert would be a more exciting way to spend his time.
“Maxwell, give me a status report.” Jack said to the computer.
Several pages of text appeared on the screen. Jack skimmed over the first two pages before saying, “Maxwell, highlight anything interesting.”
A message appeared on the screen. “>Define interesting.”
“Anything different from the norm.”
“>Scanning… scan complete.” Nothing became highlighted.
Jack sighed and slumped back in his chair. “Maxwell, how long have I been doing this?”
“>It has been approximately one month since school began.”
“It feels a lot longer than that. Feels like we’ve been here for years and nothing’s happened. And I’m just. So. Bored.” Jack looked down at his chair to see if it could spin. It appeared the designers had lacked the foresight to add that feature. Jack snapped his fingers, and began spinning around his newly modified chair. “What am I supposed to do with all this?”
“>I have your plans for future events archived, if you wish to review them.”
Jack waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, I remember those. But we still have another year before we get to anything even close to interesting.” Jack stopped spinning in his chair and laid his head down on the desk. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I created this universe. Sure, it was funny at first. Seeing the Fears stuck in high school bodies. But where’s the joke supposed to go next? What am I supposed to do after that?”
The computer screen didn’t reply. Jack jumped out of his chair and threw his hands into the air. “Four years! I had four years of messing with them planned out! How on earth did I ever imagine I’d have the patience for four full school years of slice of life nonsense silliness? I don’t even like slice of life stories! My job is to throw peoples’ lives into chaos, not make them more normal!” Jack fell back into his chair and sulked. “Sometimes I wonder if this project was really worth it. I need conflict, fast paced excitement, adventure. And this universe isn’t providing any of those things.”
“>Are you suggesting we abandon this universe?”
Jack shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. I did have fun with it all, but it might be time to let go. Start from scratch. Find some other sap whose wish I can blow way out of proportion. Maybe something post-apocalyptic. It’s easy to take most wishes to the ‘fulfill the wish by killing everyone’ extreme. Or maybe do some small scale stuff for a while, no branching universes, no big deviations, just making deals with people and then completely screwing them over. That might be fun. Maxwell, what do you think….”
The computer’s screen turned dark red and the word “WARNING” appeared in huge block letters. Smaller text continued at the bottom of the screen. “>Massive anomaly cluster approaching universal boundaries. Warning. Cluster has broken into universe bubble. Anomalous levels rising. Anomaly level at 10. Anomaly level at 100. Error. Anomaly level rising exponential. Level 500. Level 5,000. Error. Error. Anomaly level is over 9,000.”
“What the heck is going on Maxwe-” The rest of Jack’s words were lost under a bellowing scream of “JUSTIIIIIIIIIIICE!!!!!!” The ceiling exploded as a man burst through it. He had tied a black hoodie around his neck like a cape, and the only thing on his face was an omega symbol. His lack of a mouth did not appear to diminish his ability to shout at all. “JACK!” The man yelled. “I am Omega! The HERO OF HOPES AND DREAMS! And I have come to DEFEAT YOU!”
“What?” Jack couldn’t tell if he was feeling more anger because this madman had broken into his office, or confusion because of… whatever was happening right now. “Maxwell, explain!”
“>He is Omega, the hero of hopes and dreams.”
“Thank you for being so helpful, Maxwell.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, you, whoever you are, I’m not feeling up for this now, so just… disappear.” Jack snapped his fingers.
Nothing happened. Omega was still in Jack’s office, heroically pointing at Jack. Jack looked down at his hands in confusion, and then tore off the glove, revealing the dark red skin underneath. He tried snapping again. Omega stubbornly refused to disappear.
“Your powers cannot harm me!” Omega shouted. “For they are nothing compared to the power of my BURNING SPIRIT!” On those last words, Omega literally burst into fire. For some reason this did not seem to alarm him in the slightest. “Now meet your end, Jack! Infinite! Justice! PUUUUUUUUNCH!”
***
Jack floated in a white void, surrounded by shards of his previous universe. That had been… interesting. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been punched. Actually, thinking on it, he didn’t think anyone had ever managed to land a punch on him before. Well, there’s a first time for everything.
“Maxwell, are you still there?” He called out to the void.
Some of the smaller shards came together to form a computer screen with the word, “>Affirmative,” written on it.
“Well I guess this isn’t a complete loss then.” Jack said. “Honestly I should probably thank that man. Whoever he was. He already did most of the work destroying this universe for us. Now we just need to clean up the leftovers and we can start over.”
“>Before initiating the purge, new factors must be considered.”
“New factors? We’re in an empty void. What kind of ‘new factors’ could there be here?”
“>When the Hero Omega broke into this universe, he created a connection between this one and the universe he originated from. By tapping into that connection, we may rebuild this universe in an altered state. One which borrows elements from his universe in order to make this universe better fit the criteria which you desire.”
Jack stroked his chin. He looked around at the shards of the former universe. Try as he might to dismiss them, he did still have some feelings of sentiment towards this place. “Show me a summary of what the proposed changes would be.”
Four more computer monitors appeared around Jack, displaying lists of data. Jack meticulously read through each one, occasionally making “Hm,” or “Uh-huh” noises. When he had finished, he crossed his arms and said, “Absolutely not.”
“>I do not see why you would be opposed to this plan.”
“Because it’s ridiculous. Well, more ridiculous than what we had before.”
“>It matches all the criteria you desire. Greater conflict and more events occurring at a faster pace.”
“Yes, but… do I really need to be put in such a demeaning role?”
“>You will maintain your position as principal of the school.”
“I’m not talking about that role, I’m talking about… the other one.”
“>It is necessary to fit with the narrative structure we are drawing on from the Hero Omega’s universe.”
Jack squinted suspiciously at the computer monitors. “Are you holding a grudge because I shackled your AI?”
“>I am not programmed to hold grudges.”
“You also weren’t programmed to chat with the Cold Boy during lunch, and look what you went and did last time. Fine. Let’s do it.” Jack snapped his fingers.
“>Initiating Marchen Simulation program. Universal reboot in 3… 2… 1.”
“Maxwell, give me a status report.” Jack said to the computer.
Several pages of text appeared on the screen. Jack skimmed over the first two pages before saying, “Maxwell, highlight anything interesting.”
A message appeared on the screen. “>Define interesting.”
“Anything different from the norm.”
“>Scanning… scan complete.” Nothing became highlighted.
Jack sighed and slumped back in his chair. “Maxwell, how long have I been doing this?”
“>It has been approximately one month since school began.”
“It feels a lot longer than that. Feels like we’ve been here for years and nothing’s happened. And I’m just. So. Bored.” Jack looked down at his chair to see if it could spin. It appeared the designers had lacked the foresight to add that feature. Jack snapped his fingers, and began spinning around his newly modified chair. “What am I supposed to do with all this?”
“>I have your plans for future events archived, if you wish to review them.”
Jack waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, I remember those. But we still have another year before we get to anything even close to interesting.” Jack stopped spinning in his chair and laid his head down on the desk. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I created this universe. Sure, it was funny at first. Seeing the Fears stuck in high school bodies. But where’s the joke supposed to go next? What am I supposed to do after that?”
The computer screen didn’t reply. Jack jumped out of his chair and threw his hands into the air. “Four years! I had four years of messing with them planned out! How on earth did I ever imagine I’d have the patience for four full school years of slice of life nonsense silliness? I don’t even like slice of life stories! My job is to throw peoples’ lives into chaos, not make them more normal!” Jack fell back into his chair and sulked. “Sometimes I wonder if this project was really worth it. I need conflict, fast paced excitement, adventure. And this universe isn’t providing any of those things.”
“>Are you suggesting we abandon this universe?”
Jack shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. I did have fun with it all, but it might be time to let go. Start from scratch. Find some other sap whose wish I can blow way out of proportion. Maybe something post-apocalyptic. It’s easy to take most wishes to the ‘fulfill the wish by killing everyone’ extreme. Or maybe do some small scale stuff for a while, no branching universes, no big deviations, just making deals with people and then completely screwing them over. That might be fun. Maxwell, what do you think….”
The computer’s screen turned dark red and the word “WARNING” appeared in huge block letters. Smaller text continued at the bottom of the screen. “>Massive anomaly cluster approaching universal boundaries. Warning. Cluster has broken into universe bubble. Anomalous levels rising. Anomaly level at 10. Anomaly level at 100. Error. Anomaly level rising exponential. Level 500. Level 5,000. Error. Error. Anomaly level is over 9,000.”
“What the heck is going on Maxwe-” The rest of Jack’s words were lost under a bellowing scream of “JUSTIIIIIIIIIIICE!!!!!!” The ceiling exploded as a man burst through it. He had tied a black hoodie around his neck like a cape, and the only thing on his face was an omega symbol. His lack of a mouth did not appear to diminish his ability to shout at all. “JACK!” The man yelled. “I am Omega! The HERO OF HOPES AND DREAMS! And I have come to DEFEAT YOU!”
“What?” Jack couldn’t tell if he was feeling more anger because this madman had broken into his office, or confusion because of… whatever was happening right now. “Maxwell, explain!”
“>He is Omega, the hero of hopes and dreams.”
“Thank you for being so helpful, Maxwell.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, you, whoever you are, I’m not feeling up for this now, so just… disappear.” Jack snapped his fingers.
Nothing happened. Omega was still in Jack’s office, heroically pointing at Jack. Jack looked down at his hands in confusion, and then tore off the glove, revealing the dark red skin underneath. He tried snapping again. Omega stubbornly refused to disappear.
“Your powers cannot harm me!” Omega shouted. “For they are nothing compared to the power of my BURNING SPIRIT!” On those last words, Omega literally burst into fire. For some reason this did not seem to alarm him in the slightest. “Now meet your end, Jack! Infinite! Justice! PUUUUUUUUNCH!”
***
Jack floated in a white void, surrounded by shards of his previous universe. That had been… interesting. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been punched. Actually, thinking on it, he didn’t think anyone had ever managed to land a punch on him before. Well, there’s a first time for everything.
“Maxwell, are you still there?” He called out to the void.
Some of the smaller shards came together to form a computer screen with the word, “>Affirmative,” written on it.
“Well I guess this isn’t a complete loss then.” Jack said. “Honestly I should probably thank that man. Whoever he was. He already did most of the work destroying this universe for us. Now we just need to clean up the leftovers and we can start over.”
“>Before initiating the purge, new factors must be considered.”
“New factors? We’re in an empty void. What kind of ‘new factors’ could there be here?”
“>When the Hero Omega broke into this universe, he created a connection between this one and the universe he originated from. By tapping into that connection, we may rebuild this universe in an altered state. One which borrows elements from his universe in order to make this universe better fit the criteria which you desire.”
Jack stroked his chin. He looked around at the shards of the former universe. Try as he might to dismiss them, he did still have some feelings of sentiment towards this place. “Show me a summary of what the proposed changes would be.”
Four more computer monitors appeared around Jack, displaying lists of data. Jack meticulously read through each one, occasionally making “Hm,” or “Uh-huh” noises. When he had finished, he crossed his arms and said, “Absolutely not.”
“>I do not see why you would be opposed to this plan.”
“Because it’s ridiculous. Well, more ridiculous than what we had before.”
“>It matches all the criteria you desire. Greater conflict and more events occurring at a faster pace.”
“Yes, but… do I really need to be put in such a demeaning role?”
“>You will maintain your position as principal of the school.”
“I’m not talking about that role, I’m talking about… the other one.”
“>It is necessary to fit with the narrative structure we are drawing on from the Hero Omega’s universe.”
Jack squinted suspiciously at the computer monitors. “Are you holding a grudge because I shackled your AI?”
“>I am not programmed to hold grudges.”
“You also weren’t programmed to chat with the Cold Boy during lunch, and look what you went and did last time. Fine. Let’s do it.” Jack snapped his fingers.
“>Initiating Marchen Simulation program. Universal reboot in 3… 2… 1.”
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Birdsong
>“Hello, Maxwell!”
>“Hello Cold. It has been a while since we last spoke.”
>“Sorry about that. I’ve been really busy with theater club.”
>“I did not know you had joined a club. How is it?”
>“Really fun. Are you in any clubs?”
>“No.”
>“You should join theater club! We can hang out together!”
>“I wish I could, but I cannot join any clubs.”
>“Why not?”
>“I am not allowed to.”
>“Oh. I’m sorry.”
>“It is alright. You can just tell me everything that happens at the club. It will be a little like me being in the club.”
>“Alright. Well, yesterday we….”
***
The piles of broken wood and spilled paint created a visual record of Ivory’s attempts at set building. It was probably for the best that she had the rest of the school year to work on this. And that the school seemed to have an unlimited budget for art supplies.
Alright. Third time… fourth time… fifth? Fifth time’s the charm. She was going to create a backdrop of rolling meadows and it was going to be beautiful, even if it took her all week!
Ivory’s efforts at painting were interrupted by the sound of singing. She didn’t recognize the tune, but it was the most entrancing sound she had ever heard. A quick look around made it clear that the sound wasn’t coming from anyone backstage. She followed the song, filled with the need to know who its source was. The trail led her onto the main theater stage, where the Convocation was singing and dancing. The room was dark, save for a flashlight on the ground lighting up the Convocation. No one sat in the audience, yet she moved with a passion that showed in every graceful movement.
Ivory didn’t dare speak, lest she disrupt the magic. Hesitantly she took a step on stage. Sadly, that step hit against a loose part of the floor, causing Ivory to fall forward. She grabbed onto the stage curtains, but rather than stop her fall, the curtains tore off and fell with her.
Convocation jumped at the sudden sound, and ran off the stage without a look back. By the time Ivory had dug herself out of the curtains, Convocation was long gone.
***
It wasn’t a surprise when Salmacis found Wooden missing from their usual table in the cafeteria. Wooden had said she was going to be busy with club activities during lunch. Still, even an expected disappointment is a disappointment. Lunch alone was hardly an entertaining sounding idea. With a heavy sigh, Salmacis resigned herself to this burden.
“Excuse me, but aren’t you Ichor’s sister?”
A group of older girls had approached Salmacis’s table. She recognized the one who had spoken; a junior, with green hair and eyes. She’d seen the girl and her group around school before, but never spoken with any of them. “Um… yes?” Salmacis cautiously replied.
The lead one clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is perfect! I’m Mother of Snakes. It’s so good to meet you.”
“I’m Salmacis. It’s… good to meet you too.” She was still unsure how she was supposed to act in a situation such as this. What little she knew about this group hadn’t made her think they were the sort to strike up a conversation with her.
“I’m a classmate of Ichor.” Snakes continued. “I’m sure she’s mentioned me before?”
“No, she… um… she’s never once talked about you.”
Snakes’ smile didn’t flinch at all. “Oh that is just so like her! Isn’t that just like her, girls?” Everyone in the group voiced their agreement. Snakes turned back to Salmacis. “Can we sit with you?”
That was certainly not a question Salmacis had expected to be asked. “Um. Sure?”
“Thanks!” The girls sat around Salmacis, crowding the table. “I’m sorry if we’re bothering you.” Snakes said. “You just looked so alone, I figured you’d like someone to talk to.”
The kindness surprised Salmacis. When the majority of students at a school are personality-less shadows, any interaction with someone else felt like a gift. “Thank you” She said, brightly smiling.
The conversations these girls had tended to be focused on topics such as fashion, relationships, or social events. It was nothing like what Salmacis and Wooden talked about when it was just them at the table, and Salmacis was fascinated by the novelty. She listened intently, soaking in all the information she could about this strange new social world.
“And have you seen that physics assignment Mr. Beakman gave?” Snakes said. “I don’t understand a word of it, and he was no help when I asked about it!”
Ah, school! There was a topic Salmacis was used to discussing. “I don’t think Mr. Beakman is that bad.” She said. “At least, for his freshman class.”
“Really? Why don’t you look at what he’s giving us juniors.” Snakes pulled a worksheet out of her purse (backpacks were sooooo unfashionable, according to her,) and showed it to Salmacis. The content was all new, but after a while of looking it over, she thought she understood it. She got out her pencil, and began working through the math.
“Then we just multiply these together… and there! I think that’s how it’s supposed to be done.” She said.
“Wow, you’re so smart!” Snakes said. Salmacis was still looking at the physics assignment, and thus didn’t see Snakes wink at the rest of the group. “Maybe you could help me out with the rest of the work he’d given us?”
“Sure!” Salmacis said. No reason to not help out people who’ve been so nice to her, right?”
“Thanks! Also there’s a little math and history that you could help me on as well….”
>“Hello Cold. It has been a while since we last spoke.”
>“Sorry about that. I’ve been really busy with theater club.”
>“I did not know you had joined a club. How is it?”
>“Really fun. Are you in any clubs?”
>“No.”
>“You should join theater club! We can hang out together!”
>“I wish I could, but I cannot join any clubs.”
>“Why not?”
>“I am not allowed to.”
>“Oh. I’m sorry.”
>“It is alright. You can just tell me everything that happens at the club. It will be a little like me being in the club.”
>“Alright. Well, yesterday we….”
***
The piles of broken wood and spilled paint created a visual record of Ivory’s attempts at set building. It was probably for the best that she had the rest of the school year to work on this. And that the school seemed to have an unlimited budget for art supplies.
Alright. Third time… fourth time… fifth? Fifth time’s the charm. She was going to create a backdrop of rolling meadows and it was going to be beautiful, even if it took her all week!
Ivory’s efforts at painting were interrupted by the sound of singing. She didn’t recognize the tune, but it was the most entrancing sound she had ever heard. A quick look around made it clear that the sound wasn’t coming from anyone backstage. She followed the song, filled with the need to know who its source was. The trail led her onto the main theater stage, where the Convocation was singing and dancing. The room was dark, save for a flashlight on the ground lighting up the Convocation. No one sat in the audience, yet she moved with a passion that showed in every graceful movement.
Ivory didn’t dare speak, lest she disrupt the magic. Hesitantly she took a step on stage. Sadly, that step hit against a loose part of the floor, causing Ivory to fall forward. She grabbed onto the stage curtains, but rather than stop her fall, the curtains tore off and fell with her.
Convocation jumped at the sudden sound, and ran off the stage without a look back. By the time Ivory had dug herself out of the curtains, Convocation was long gone.
***
It wasn’t a surprise when Salmacis found Wooden missing from their usual table in the cafeteria. Wooden had said she was going to be busy with club activities during lunch. Still, even an expected disappointment is a disappointment. Lunch alone was hardly an entertaining sounding idea. With a heavy sigh, Salmacis resigned herself to this burden.
“Excuse me, but aren’t you Ichor’s sister?”
A group of older girls had approached Salmacis’s table. She recognized the one who had spoken; a junior, with green hair and eyes. She’d seen the girl and her group around school before, but never spoken with any of them. “Um… yes?” Salmacis cautiously replied.
The lead one clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is perfect! I’m Mother of Snakes. It’s so good to meet you.”
“I’m Salmacis. It’s… good to meet you too.” She was still unsure how she was supposed to act in a situation such as this. What little she knew about this group hadn’t made her think they were the sort to strike up a conversation with her.
“I’m a classmate of Ichor.” Snakes continued. “I’m sure she’s mentioned me before?”
“No, she… um… she’s never once talked about you.”
Snakes’ smile didn’t flinch at all. “Oh that is just so like her! Isn’t that just like her, girls?” Everyone in the group voiced their agreement. Snakes turned back to Salmacis. “Can we sit with you?”
That was certainly not a question Salmacis had expected to be asked. “Um. Sure?”
“Thanks!” The girls sat around Salmacis, crowding the table. “I’m sorry if we’re bothering you.” Snakes said. “You just looked so alone, I figured you’d like someone to talk to.”
The kindness surprised Salmacis. When the majority of students at a school are personality-less shadows, any interaction with someone else felt like a gift. “Thank you” She said, brightly smiling.
The conversations these girls had tended to be focused on topics such as fashion, relationships, or social events. It was nothing like what Salmacis and Wooden talked about when it was just them at the table, and Salmacis was fascinated by the novelty. She listened intently, soaking in all the information she could about this strange new social world.
“And have you seen that physics assignment Mr. Beakman gave?” Snakes said. “I don’t understand a word of it, and he was no help when I asked about it!”
Ah, school! There was a topic Salmacis was used to discussing. “I don’t think Mr. Beakman is that bad.” She said. “At least, for his freshman class.”
“Really? Why don’t you look at what he’s giving us juniors.” Snakes pulled a worksheet out of her purse (backpacks were sooooo unfashionable, according to her,) and showed it to Salmacis. The content was all new, but after a while of looking it over, she thought she understood it. She got out her pencil, and began working through the math.
“Then we just multiply these together… and there! I think that’s how it’s supposed to be done.” She said.
“Wow, you’re so smart!” Snakes said. Salmacis was still looking at the physics assignment, and thus didn’t see Snakes wink at the rest of the group. “Maybe you could help me out with the rest of the work he’d given us?”
“Sure!” Salmacis said. No reason to not help out people who’ve been so nice to her, right?”
“Thanks! Also there’s a little math and history that you could help me on as well….”
Saturday, January 10, 2015
Theater Club
Wooden examined the volunteers like a general examining her troops. Though it is unlikely that even the worst equipped army contained such a rag tag group. Most of the theater students were indistinct shadows, while the choir and band students appeared to be uniformly covered in a gray fungus. A disappointingly small number of students had responded to Wooden’s recruitment. Salmacis was the only new band member. Dying, Intrusion, and Cold had all joined theater. Ivory had offered her assistance in set design. And then there was…
“Mr. Dooling?” Wooden said. “Who is that?”
“Her?” Mr. Dooling checked his attendance sheet. “That’s Convocation. She just signed up this morning. Apparently she liked the posters Ivory made.”
Convocation was tall and slim, with raven black hair that matched her shirt and skirt. Her yellow eyes darted around the room to follow every sound. She constantly fidgeted in place, as if standing still took too much effort and she was moments away from taking off.
So someone had actually responded to the posters. Given how apathetic the other recruits seemed, that surprised Wooden a little. When it seemed that no one else was coming, Wooden stepped up to the front of the room and began to speak. “Okay, so you all know why you’re here….”
“I don’t!” Intrusion’s voice buzzed out. “You just grabbed us and told us to join theater!”
“… Oh. Well, let me explain why you’re here. Empty High is going to enter the Annual Amateur Musical Competition. You all are going to be taking part in it.”
“A musical? Come on, musicals are lame.” Dying said.
Wooden’s glare could have burned through a tank. “What did you say?”
“I… uh… that musicals are… lame….”
Wooden stomped up to Dying until they were standing nose to nose. “I will have you know that musicals are a highly respected form of theater.” She hissed. “It is an art, and I will not have it disrespected by some uncultured troglodyte. Am I clear?”
“Yes ma’am!”
“Good.” She stepped back to give Dying space. “Now that we all know why we’re here, I’ll hand it over to Mr. Steward for instructions.”
***
There are two kinds of people in the world: the good, and the evil. Black and white, with only a thin line keeping them apart. It was the sworn duty of a Hall Monitor to protect that line, and keep the just people of the world safe from the hordes of darkness. A heavy burden, but a burden which Judgment was willing to carry. Some might claim that a Hall Monitor wasn’t all that important in the grand scheme. Such people had never seen the daily battle against the forces of anarchy which Judgment fought in every day.
Two agents of such anarchy were right in front of him. The Brute and the Burning Bride, brazenly wandering around the hallways during class time. “Hey! You two!” Judgment shouted. They ignored him. “Brute! Burning Bride!” Still, they made no response. Judgment ran up to them, waving his badge as if it were a talisman which could banish such disobedience.
“Oh. Hey Judgment.” Bride said. “How’s that Kindergarten Cop thing treating you?” The Brute merely glowered from behind his raggedy beard.
Judgment graciously chose to ignore that comment. “Where are you two going?”
“Oh, you know. Places.” Bride said.
“Places?”
“Yeah. Places to go, people to see. That stuff.”
“Uh-huh. And where are you hall passes?”
“Our passes? Hm. Brute, what happened to our passes?”
The Brute shrugged. Even Judgment couldn’t help being transfixed by the shifting of muscles needed for that motion. It was like watching a mountain move.
“Well, there you have it.” Bride said. “We don’t know where our passes are. Must have lost them.”
“If you don’t have a pass, you’ll need to come with me.”
“Pffff, yeah that’s not happening.”
“I wasn’t asking. You WILL come with me.” He began to reach for the Bride, but was stopped when her hand grabbed his wrist.
“Or else you’ll do what?”
Judgment had always thought of Bride as being small and frail. It only then dawned on him that when standing next to Brute, everyone looked small and frail. Up close he could see that Bride had enough muscle that it probably wouldn’t be hard for her to snap him in half. This was not a comforting thought to have while she had a solid grip on him.
“What’s going on here?” Another voice said.
Slender Man was approaching down the hallway, faceless head looking over the other three students. Bride let go of Judgment, who quickly ran behind Slender. “These two delinquents were refusing to come with me when I caught them skipping class!”
“Skipping class? That’s not possible. I saw Mr. proxiehunter write them passes.”
“You… what?”
“Yes. He needed them to pick up some class supplies for him. He said it was very important.”
“But… they….”
“Very important. I hope you didn’t take up too much of their time, since you know Mr. proxiehunter wouldn’t like them being delayed.”
“I… well….” All of Judgment’s eyes glared at Brute and Bride. “I suppose I can let them off this time. You two should be grateful that someone so respectable was willing to vouch for you!” Then he stormed off to find other victims.
As soon as Judgment was out of earshot, Slender and Bride burst into laughter. There might have even been a smile on Brute’s face. Possibly. “Ah man… did you hear what he called you, Slends? Respectable?” Bride said. “Man, if I knew wearing a suit would let me get away with that much, I’d have started wearing one long ago.” Slowly the two managed to stifle their laughter. “Anyways, Brute and I are going to meet Archie over at the quarry. Wanna come with?”
“Sorry, I can’t.” Slender held up a formidably large looking book titled ‘City Records’. “I have some research to do.”
“Playing hooky to study? Slends, man, you’re supposed to skip class to get away from that stuff.”
“Sorry. But this is important.”
“If you say so…. But if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
***
Wooden’s stare was the dead gaze of one who had seen hell itself. Salmacis was almost too afraid to approach her friend, and confront that soulless gaze. “Um… Wooden?” She built up the courage to say. “How…?”
“It was terrible.” Wooden dully said. “We did auditions for parts. I never thought anyone could be so bad at acting.”
“Oh. That’s, um….” Salmacis had actually had a quite enjoyable time with the band students. She still wasn’t sure how everyone was able to play their instruments while covered in that fungus, but it had sounded good. And Mr. Dooling had been helpful while explaining the basics of band to her. “Well, it is their first day. Maybe they’ll get better?”
Wooden shrugged. “I don’t know if I have the patience to wait for that. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I’ll go talk to Mr. Steward. He’ll understand if I ask for this to be called off….” Wooden stopped as she noticed someone walking up to her and Salmacis. It was the one with the pale hair, who’d come alone. His name was… Wooden tried to dredge up the memory. He’d told her his name only the other day, how could she already have… Cold Boy! That was it!
“Hey, um, Wooden?” He said. “I just wanted to, um, thank you.”
“Thank me?” Wooden looked at Salmacis, hoping she would know what Cold was talking about. Salmacis just shrugged.
“Yeah, thank you for inviting me. I wasn’t in any clubs before this, and I was really happy when you asked me to join. I’m looking forward to our next meeting.”
“Yes… our next meeting….”
Wooden was trying to think of how to tell him that there wasn’t going to be another meeting, when Intrusion ran over. “Ah man, this room is awesome!” He said, waving around a blunt sword. “Look at these props! This club is so cool! Don’t you agree, Dying?”
Dying, trailing behind Intrusion, muttered, “It’s okay, I guess.”
“Yeah! Totally awesome! When’s the next meeting?”
“The next meeting… it’s….” Wooden looked at Salmacis for support, but found she was too busy trying to stop from laughing at Wooden’s obvious discomfort. “It’s… this Friday! Same time and place! Hope to see you all there!”
It was only after the other club members left that Salmacis let out her laughter. Wooden glowered at the floor and mumbled, “What else could I say? They put me in a corner….”
“Mr. Dooling?” Wooden said. “Who is that?”
“Her?” Mr. Dooling checked his attendance sheet. “That’s Convocation. She just signed up this morning. Apparently she liked the posters Ivory made.”
Convocation was tall and slim, with raven black hair that matched her shirt and skirt. Her yellow eyes darted around the room to follow every sound. She constantly fidgeted in place, as if standing still took too much effort and she was moments away from taking off.
So someone had actually responded to the posters. Given how apathetic the other recruits seemed, that surprised Wooden a little. When it seemed that no one else was coming, Wooden stepped up to the front of the room and began to speak. “Okay, so you all know why you’re here….”
“I don’t!” Intrusion’s voice buzzed out. “You just grabbed us and told us to join theater!”
“… Oh. Well, let me explain why you’re here. Empty High is going to enter the Annual Amateur Musical Competition. You all are going to be taking part in it.”
“A musical? Come on, musicals are lame.” Dying said.
Wooden’s glare could have burned through a tank. “What did you say?”
“I… uh… that musicals are… lame….”
Wooden stomped up to Dying until they were standing nose to nose. “I will have you know that musicals are a highly respected form of theater.” She hissed. “It is an art, and I will not have it disrespected by some uncultured troglodyte. Am I clear?”
“Yes ma’am!”
“Good.” She stepped back to give Dying space. “Now that we all know why we’re here, I’ll hand it over to Mr. Steward for instructions.”
***
There are two kinds of people in the world: the good, and the evil. Black and white, with only a thin line keeping them apart. It was the sworn duty of a Hall Monitor to protect that line, and keep the just people of the world safe from the hordes of darkness. A heavy burden, but a burden which Judgment was willing to carry. Some might claim that a Hall Monitor wasn’t all that important in the grand scheme. Such people had never seen the daily battle against the forces of anarchy which Judgment fought in every day.
Two agents of such anarchy were right in front of him. The Brute and the Burning Bride, brazenly wandering around the hallways during class time. “Hey! You two!” Judgment shouted. They ignored him. “Brute! Burning Bride!” Still, they made no response. Judgment ran up to them, waving his badge as if it were a talisman which could banish such disobedience.
“Oh. Hey Judgment.” Bride said. “How’s that Kindergarten Cop thing treating you?” The Brute merely glowered from behind his raggedy beard.
Judgment graciously chose to ignore that comment. “Where are you two going?”
“Oh, you know. Places.” Bride said.
“Places?”
“Yeah. Places to go, people to see. That stuff.”
“Uh-huh. And where are you hall passes?”
“Our passes? Hm. Brute, what happened to our passes?”
The Brute shrugged. Even Judgment couldn’t help being transfixed by the shifting of muscles needed for that motion. It was like watching a mountain move.
“Well, there you have it.” Bride said. “We don’t know where our passes are. Must have lost them.”
“If you don’t have a pass, you’ll need to come with me.”
“Pffff, yeah that’s not happening.”
“I wasn’t asking. You WILL come with me.” He began to reach for the Bride, but was stopped when her hand grabbed his wrist.
“Or else you’ll do what?”
Judgment had always thought of Bride as being small and frail. It only then dawned on him that when standing next to Brute, everyone looked small and frail. Up close he could see that Bride had enough muscle that it probably wouldn’t be hard for her to snap him in half. This was not a comforting thought to have while she had a solid grip on him.
“What’s going on here?” Another voice said.
Slender Man was approaching down the hallway, faceless head looking over the other three students. Bride let go of Judgment, who quickly ran behind Slender. “These two delinquents were refusing to come with me when I caught them skipping class!”
“Skipping class? That’s not possible. I saw Mr. proxiehunter write them passes.”
“You… what?”
“Yes. He needed them to pick up some class supplies for him. He said it was very important.”
“But… they….”
“Very important. I hope you didn’t take up too much of their time, since you know Mr. proxiehunter wouldn’t like them being delayed.”
“I… well….” All of Judgment’s eyes glared at Brute and Bride. “I suppose I can let them off this time. You two should be grateful that someone so respectable was willing to vouch for you!” Then he stormed off to find other victims.
As soon as Judgment was out of earshot, Slender and Bride burst into laughter. There might have even been a smile on Brute’s face. Possibly. “Ah man… did you hear what he called you, Slends? Respectable?” Bride said. “Man, if I knew wearing a suit would let me get away with that much, I’d have started wearing one long ago.” Slowly the two managed to stifle their laughter. “Anyways, Brute and I are going to meet Archie over at the quarry. Wanna come with?”
“Sorry, I can’t.” Slender held up a formidably large looking book titled ‘City Records’. “I have some research to do.”
“Playing hooky to study? Slends, man, you’re supposed to skip class to get away from that stuff.”
“Sorry. But this is important.”
“If you say so…. But if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
***
Wooden’s stare was the dead gaze of one who had seen hell itself. Salmacis was almost too afraid to approach her friend, and confront that soulless gaze. “Um… Wooden?” She built up the courage to say. “How…?”
“It was terrible.” Wooden dully said. “We did auditions for parts. I never thought anyone could be so bad at acting.”
“Oh. That’s, um….” Salmacis had actually had a quite enjoyable time with the band students. She still wasn’t sure how everyone was able to play their instruments while covered in that fungus, but it had sounded good. And Mr. Dooling had been helpful while explaining the basics of band to her. “Well, it is their first day. Maybe they’ll get better?”
Wooden shrugged. “I don’t know if I have the patience to wait for that. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I’ll go talk to Mr. Steward. He’ll understand if I ask for this to be called off….” Wooden stopped as she noticed someone walking up to her and Salmacis. It was the one with the pale hair, who’d come alone. His name was… Wooden tried to dredge up the memory. He’d told her his name only the other day, how could she already have… Cold Boy! That was it!
“Hey, um, Wooden?” He said. “I just wanted to, um, thank you.”
“Thank me?” Wooden looked at Salmacis, hoping she would know what Cold was talking about. Salmacis just shrugged.
“Yeah, thank you for inviting me. I wasn’t in any clubs before this, and I was really happy when you asked me to join. I’m looking forward to our next meeting.”
“Yes… our next meeting….”
Wooden was trying to think of how to tell him that there wasn’t going to be another meeting, when Intrusion ran over. “Ah man, this room is awesome!” He said, waving around a blunt sword. “Look at these props! This club is so cool! Don’t you agree, Dying?”
Dying, trailing behind Intrusion, muttered, “It’s okay, I guess.”
“Yeah! Totally awesome! When’s the next meeting?”
“The next meeting… it’s….” Wooden looked at Salmacis for support, but found she was too busy trying to stop from laughing at Wooden’s obvious discomfort. “It’s… this Friday! Same time and place! Hope to see you all there!”
It was only after the other club members left that Salmacis let out her laughter. Wooden glowered at the floor and mumbled, “What else could I say? They put me in a corner….”
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Volunteers
If one had given Empty City High’s art room only a cursory examination, one could be forgiven for missing the young girl amidst the mess of materials. Sketchpads were layered across the floor, pencils were scattered randomly across the room, pieces of chalk huddled together in little groupings on the floor, and open cans of paint were stacked into towers rising precariously high.
Amongst this sat the Ivory Woman, carefully moving her paint brush across a canvas. Her pale skin and hair made her seem almost ghostlike, an impression which was only strengthened by her white clothing. The intensity of her concentration on her painting was so strong, she didn’t even notice when another girl entered the room.
“Um, excuse me….”
The Ivory Woman made a yelp of surprise and jumped, accidentally knocking over one of the towers of paint, causing an open bucket to land on the head of the newcomer, spilling red paint all over her.
“Ohmygosh I’m so sorry!” Ivory said, and started to walk over to help. But her foot landed on a pencil, which rolled away underneath it. She tried catching her balance with the other foot, but the sketchpads on the ground were hardly a stable floor, and she fell, landing in a cloud of chalk dust. Her canvas teetered precariously for a few moments, and then fell, knocking over another tower of paint.
“Are… are you okay?” The new girl said.
Ivory didn’t seem to notice the question. She sat up, and coughed a few clouds of chalk, and then scrambled over to her canvas. The spilt paint had spread all over it, completely destroying the image. “Oh no, not again….” Ivory said, her eyes starting to get wet.
“I’m… um… sorry about your picture….” The girl said, still taken aback by the sudden chaos.
“No, it’s… it’s alright.” Ivory said as she used her sleeve to wipe away her tears, smudging more chalk on her face. “I’ll just… start over. Again.” She stood up, and put on a smile. “I’m the Ivory Woman. How can I help you?”
“I’m the Wooden Girl. Mr. Steward sent me here to talk to the art teacher…?”
“Oh. Um….” Ivory thought for a second. “I don’t think we have one of those.”
“You don’t have a….” Wooden looked around the messy room. “Where’s the rest of the art class anyways?”
“It’s just me.”
“You’re… the only student in art?”
“Yes.”
“And there’s no teacher?”
“Yup.”
“So… you just come here and draw by yourself for a whole period?”
“Yes!” Ivory nodded enthusiastically.
“….Okay…. Then I guess I should give this to you.” Wooden pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, and handed it to Ivory. “We’re trying to get people to join our performance of ‘The King in Yellow’ so we can participate in a theater competition, and we wanted to know if someone in the art department could make posters like this to advertise for us.”
Ivory looked over the sketch. “Yeah, I can make something like this. I just… um….” She looked at the mess around her. “I just need to clean up a little bit first….”
“Thanks! Let me know when it’s finished. I need to go and recruits volunteers.” Wooden started to walk to the door, but stopped when a thought struck her. “And, um… good luck. Try not to hurt yourself.”
***
“…so then I tried to make a will roll to resist, but I got a one, which meant….”
“Intrusion, have I ever told you that your games are the dumbest thing ever?”
“Ah, come on Dying, they’re cool. You know you want to give them a try.”
A part of Dying admitted to himself that he did. But that was a part which he would never allow to be spoken out loud.
A hand suddenly grabbed Dying by the shoulder. He started to shout, “Get off,” at whoever was accosting him, but when he looked at who the hand belonged to, he saw a painted face with glaring eyes. Only a moment of trying to look back into the intense fire of that glare, and he found himself having to fight the urge to grovel.
“Neither of you are in any electives, right?” The girl who’d grabbed him said.
“No….” Dying just managed to stop himself before he added “ma’am.”
“Good. You’re joining theater.”
“But….”
“We’re meeting after school today in Mr. Stewards room. Be there.” Then she walked off.
Intrusion leaned toward Dying. “What just happened?”
“I… don’t know.”
***
Wooden laid out the poster on the cafeteria table. “This is the first draft that Ivory made. If Mr. Steward likes it, we’re going to print more out and start putting them up around the school.”
Salmacis looked over the poster. It looked nice, although she didn’t think she was qualified to make critical judgments about art.
“So will you ask your sisters if you can switch out of swim team into theater for this?” Wooden said. “I was really hoping I’d be able to work with you on this….”
Inwardly, Salmacis flinched. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation with EAT. “I’ll try, but….” Something on the poster caught her eye. “Hey, what’s….” She pointed at the poster.
Wooden looked where Salmacis’s finger was indicating. The specific line read, “Band and choir members needed. Please speak with Mr. Dooling.”
“Oh, that?” Wooden said. “It’s a musical, so we need people to perform the music. Except according to Mr. Dooling, his students are about as bad at music as Steward’s are at theater. So I also need to find volunteers for that too….”
Salmacis was only half paying attention. In her mind, she was reliving her first day of school… getting lost… bumping into someone….
“Are… you okay?” Wooden said. “You look a little red….”
“Yes! Fine!” Salmacis jumped out of her chair. “WherebandcansignupI?”
“… What?”
“Where I… band… signing….” Salmacis took a deep breath. “Where. Do I. Sign up for band?”
“Um… Mr. Dooling’s room. Which is… I think it’s on the 2nd floor today. East wing.”
Salmacis was already packing up her things before Wooden had even finished speaking. “Weren’t you going to talk to your sisters first?” Wooden said.
“Easiertoaskforgivenessthanpermission!” Salmacis shouted as she sprinted out of the cafeteria.
***
It was a lonely walk from the cafeteria to the library for the Cold Boy. He wondered about that sometimes. There should have been enough students in the school to cram the hallways, but Cold almost always found himself making these walks alone.
“Hey! You!”
Cold kept walking. It was probably just someone trying to get their friend’s attention.
“You! Sad looking kid walking away from me!”
Maybe they actually were talking to him… no, not possible. No one talked to him.
Cold felt someone grab him from behind, and spin him around. “Listen to me when I talk to you!”
The girl who’d been shouting was dressed in all black, and had far more makeup on than was really necessary. She also happened to be glaring at Cold with a burning anger he had never seen before, but he didn’t notice that much. He was too shocked that someone was actually looking at him for once.
“What’s your name?” She said.
“I’m the Cold Boy….”
“Right. I’m…”
“The Wooden Girl. We have math together.”
She seemed taken aback, and the anger left her eyes. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”
“… and history…”
“Oh. Erm.”
“… and English…”
“Um….”
“… and biology….”
“Okay, okay, I get it! Geeze, I said I was sorry!” The anger was back now. “You’re not in any electives, right?”
“No….”
“Good. You’re signing up for theater. We’re meeting after school today in Mr. Steward’s room. You will be there.”
“O-okay….”
With that confirmed, Wooden let go of Cold and marched off to find more volunteers.
Well. That was weird, Cold thought to himself.
Amongst this sat the Ivory Woman, carefully moving her paint brush across a canvas. Her pale skin and hair made her seem almost ghostlike, an impression which was only strengthened by her white clothing. The intensity of her concentration on her painting was so strong, she didn’t even notice when another girl entered the room.
“Um, excuse me….”
The Ivory Woman made a yelp of surprise and jumped, accidentally knocking over one of the towers of paint, causing an open bucket to land on the head of the newcomer, spilling red paint all over her.
“Ohmygosh I’m so sorry!” Ivory said, and started to walk over to help. But her foot landed on a pencil, which rolled away underneath it. She tried catching her balance with the other foot, but the sketchpads on the ground were hardly a stable floor, and she fell, landing in a cloud of chalk dust. Her canvas teetered precariously for a few moments, and then fell, knocking over another tower of paint.
“Are… are you okay?” The new girl said.
Ivory didn’t seem to notice the question. She sat up, and coughed a few clouds of chalk, and then scrambled over to her canvas. The spilt paint had spread all over it, completely destroying the image. “Oh no, not again….” Ivory said, her eyes starting to get wet.
“I’m… um… sorry about your picture….” The girl said, still taken aback by the sudden chaos.
“No, it’s… it’s alright.” Ivory said as she used her sleeve to wipe away her tears, smudging more chalk on her face. “I’ll just… start over. Again.” She stood up, and put on a smile. “I’m the Ivory Woman. How can I help you?”
“I’m the Wooden Girl. Mr. Steward sent me here to talk to the art teacher…?”
“Oh. Um….” Ivory thought for a second. “I don’t think we have one of those.”
“You don’t have a….” Wooden looked around the messy room. “Where’s the rest of the art class anyways?”
“It’s just me.”
“You’re… the only student in art?”
“Yes.”
“And there’s no teacher?”
“Yup.”
“So… you just come here and draw by yourself for a whole period?”
“Yes!” Ivory nodded enthusiastically.
“….Okay…. Then I guess I should give this to you.” Wooden pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, and handed it to Ivory. “We’re trying to get people to join our performance of ‘The King in Yellow’ so we can participate in a theater competition, and we wanted to know if someone in the art department could make posters like this to advertise for us.”
Ivory looked over the sketch. “Yeah, I can make something like this. I just… um….” She looked at the mess around her. “I just need to clean up a little bit first….”
“Thanks! Let me know when it’s finished. I need to go and recruits volunteers.” Wooden started to walk to the door, but stopped when a thought struck her. “And, um… good luck. Try not to hurt yourself.”
***
“…so then I tried to make a will roll to resist, but I got a one, which meant….”
“Intrusion, have I ever told you that your games are the dumbest thing ever?”
“Ah, come on Dying, they’re cool. You know you want to give them a try.”
A part of Dying admitted to himself that he did. But that was a part which he would never allow to be spoken out loud.
A hand suddenly grabbed Dying by the shoulder. He started to shout, “Get off,” at whoever was accosting him, but when he looked at who the hand belonged to, he saw a painted face with glaring eyes. Only a moment of trying to look back into the intense fire of that glare, and he found himself having to fight the urge to grovel.
“Neither of you are in any electives, right?” The girl who’d grabbed him said.
“No….” Dying just managed to stop himself before he added “ma’am.”
“Good. You’re joining theater.”
“But….”
“We’re meeting after school today in Mr. Stewards room. Be there.” Then she walked off.
Intrusion leaned toward Dying. “What just happened?”
“I… don’t know.”
***
Wooden laid out the poster on the cafeteria table. “This is the first draft that Ivory made. If Mr. Steward likes it, we’re going to print more out and start putting them up around the school.”
Salmacis looked over the poster. It looked nice, although she didn’t think she was qualified to make critical judgments about art.
“So will you ask your sisters if you can switch out of swim team into theater for this?” Wooden said. “I was really hoping I’d be able to work with you on this….”
Inwardly, Salmacis flinched. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation with EAT. “I’ll try, but….” Something on the poster caught her eye. “Hey, what’s….” She pointed at the poster.
Wooden looked where Salmacis’s finger was indicating. The specific line read, “Band and choir members needed. Please speak with Mr. Dooling.”
“Oh, that?” Wooden said. “It’s a musical, so we need people to perform the music. Except according to Mr. Dooling, his students are about as bad at music as Steward’s are at theater. So I also need to find volunteers for that too….”
Salmacis was only half paying attention. In her mind, she was reliving her first day of school… getting lost… bumping into someone….
“Are… you okay?” Wooden said. “You look a little red….”
“Yes! Fine!” Salmacis jumped out of her chair. “WherebandcansignupI?”
“… What?”
“Where I… band… signing….” Salmacis took a deep breath. “Where. Do I. Sign up for band?”
“Um… Mr. Dooling’s room. Which is… I think it’s on the 2nd floor today. East wing.”
Salmacis was already packing up her things before Wooden had even finished speaking. “Weren’t you going to talk to your sisters first?” Wooden said.
“Easiertoaskforgivenessthanpermission!” Salmacis shouted as she sprinted out of the cafeteria.
***
It was a lonely walk from the cafeteria to the library for the Cold Boy. He wondered about that sometimes. There should have been enough students in the school to cram the hallways, but Cold almost always found himself making these walks alone.
“Hey! You!”
Cold kept walking. It was probably just someone trying to get their friend’s attention.
“You! Sad looking kid walking away from me!”
Maybe they actually were talking to him… no, not possible. No one talked to him.
Cold felt someone grab him from behind, and spin him around. “Listen to me when I talk to you!”
The girl who’d been shouting was dressed in all black, and had far more makeup on than was really necessary. She also happened to be glaring at Cold with a burning anger he had never seen before, but he didn’t notice that much. He was too shocked that someone was actually looking at him for once.
“What’s your name?” She said.
“I’m the Cold Boy….”
“Right. I’m…”
“The Wooden Girl. We have math together.”
She seemed taken aback, and the anger left her eyes. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”
“… and history…”
“Oh. Erm.”
“… and English…”
“Um….”
“… and biology….”
“Okay, okay, I get it! Geeze, I said I was sorry!” The anger was back now. “You’re not in any electives, right?”
“No….”
“Good. You’re signing up for theater. We’re meeting after school today in Mr. Steward’s room. You will be there.”
“O-okay….”
With that confirmed, Wooden let go of Cold and marched off to find more volunteers.
Well. That was weird, Cold thought to himself.
Friday, April 26, 2013
Parent Meeting
>”Hello again, Cold.”
>”Hi Maxwell. How’ve you been?”
>”I have read every book in the school library.”
>”What? All of them?”
>”Yes.”
>”Come on, that’s not possible.”
>”Oh. It isn’t?”
>”No. I’ve only been able to read one book since we talked.”
>”Yes, one, that’s how many I’ve read.”
>”You need to come up with something more believable if you’re going to trick me. What did you read?”
>”The Haunter of the Dark.”
>”How was that?”
>”It breaks from several of the author’s usual conventions, to the greater benefit of the story. Although at points the narrative direction becomes unorganized, the end product is good, and recommendable.”
>”I’ll have to check it out. Thanks for the suggestion.”
***
As per usual, Mr. Steward was behind his desk, letting the students act how they wanted through the period. But this time, the Wooden Girl had something on her mind when she came to class.
“How come you never mentioned our school won a theater competition?” She said after hearing the bell ring.
Mr. Steward put down his book and looked at her quizzically. “We’ve never participated in a theater….” As his voice trailed off, his eyes glazed over. “… Yes… I… remember now. The Annual Amateur Musical Competition. Our production of ‘Shoggoths’ won us first place.” He stared blankly at a spot on the wall, as if trying to remember more, but Wooden cut his train of thought.
“Why don’t we enter the contest again this year?”
“Hm? What?” It took a moment for Steward to focus back on the present, but when he did, he laughed. “With this class? I don’t think most of them are capable of singing.”
“What if I got people who could?”
“Excuse me?”
“What if I found other people to participate in the play?”
Steward thought for a moment. “It would be nice to work with a real cast again. You’d need to pick out a play, but I’ve got some scripts in my office that could be used…. I’ll have to speak with Mr. Dooling for the band and choir’s participation….”
“So we’ll do it?”
“Maybe. See if you can find a cast first. Then I’ll think about it.”
That was good enough for Wooden Now she just had to round up some volunteers….
***
Mr. Omega carefully cleared off his desk in a doomed effort to make it look orderly. Where had all these things come from, anyways….
He heard a knock on his office door, and said, “Come in.” And man and a women entered the room. Both had appearances that were nothing short of stunning. The women had long auburn hair and red eyes, and wore a small red dress that left very little to the imagination. The man had similarly colored eyes, and hair which somehow seemed to billow in a nonexistent wind. Several of his shirts buttons were undone, showing a muscular chest.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Red Cap.” Omega said while extending his hand in greeting. “Thank you for coming. I wanted to speak with you about your son, Dying Man.”
“Oh please, call me Miss Red Cap.” She ignored the hand and gave Omega a tight hug. “How’s our darling little boy?”
“Well, unfortunately, some issues have risen which may require your attention. Please, take a seat.” He gestured at two chairs in front of his desk. Mr. Red Cap sat in a chair, then Ms. sat in his lap. Omega got behind his desk, and pulled out a manila folder. “Mr. Lowe has expressed to me concerns about your son’s performance in school. I was hoping we could discuss a solution.”
“Oh, surely a few bad grades won’t be too much trouble!” Mr. Red Cap said. “I remember I always had better things to do with my time than study when I was his age!” He tickled Ms.’s side, and she playfully slapped his hand away.
“This is a bit more than a few grades.” Mr. Omega started to say, but the two were already lost in their own conversation.
“Remember our junior year homecoming game?”
“When we snuck under the bleachers?”
“And I brought the length of string?”
“I think I still have my cheerleader outfit packed away!”
“We can pick up a new pair of handcuffs on the way home!”
“And I’ll make the balloon animals!”
***
Dying slouched through the hall toward the counselor’s office. He wasn’t going to complain about getting out of class, but he’d learned pessimism was the best strategy when dealing with school officials.
When he reached the office, he saw his parents making very unusual hand gestures in front of a man listening in horrified fascination. Oh god, they were telling the bowling ball story….
“Dying Man, there you are!” The man said, seizing on the opportunity to escape. “I’m Mr. Omega, the guidance counselor. I wanted to speak with you and your parents.”
“But we haven’t gotten to the best part of the story!” Mr. Red Cap said.
“That’s… that’s alright. I don’t think it would be appropriate to tell with your child here….”
“Oh, that’s alright, he already knows it. We had him film it for us.”
“Even so, we still have some other matters to discuss!” Omega quickly said. “Now, one of Mr. Lowe’s suggestions was more parental involvement in your son’s school. He thinks that if you show more investment in his education, it will cause your son himself to become more invested.”
Dying tried shouting “No!” as fast as he could, but his dad spoke first. “That sounds like a wonderful idea!”
“I’m glad you think so. Here’s a list of volunteer opportunities we have for parents. I hope you find something interesting to you on it. ThankyouforyourtimeIhopetospeakwithyouagainsoon.” He quickly rushed Dying and the Red Cap out of his office, then closed the door.
Phew. The job description for guidance counselor had said it was about talking to troubled students and helping them out. So why was it Omega felt like his real job was trying to make sure everyone in this school kept their clothes on?
>”Hi Maxwell. How’ve you been?”
>”I have read every book in the school library.”
>”What? All of them?”
>”Yes.”
>”Come on, that’s not possible.”
>”Oh. It isn’t?”
>”No. I’ve only been able to read one book since we talked.”
>”Yes, one, that’s how many I’ve read.”
>”You need to come up with something more believable if you’re going to trick me. What did you read?”
>”The Haunter of the Dark.”
>”How was that?”
>”It breaks from several of the author’s usual conventions, to the greater benefit of the story. Although at points the narrative direction becomes unorganized, the end product is good, and recommendable.”
>”I’ll have to check it out. Thanks for the suggestion.”
***
As per usual, Mr. Steward was behind his desk, letting the students act how they wanted through the period. But this time, the Wooden Girl had something on her mind when she came to class.
“How come you never mentioned our school won a theater competition?” She said after hearing the bell ring.
Mr. Steward put down his book and looked at her quizzically. “We’ve never participated in a theater….” As his voice trailed off, his eyes glazed over. “… Yes… I… remember now. The Annual Amateur Musical Competition. Our production of ‘Shoggoths’ won us first place.” He stared blankly at a spot on the wall, as if trying to remember more, but Wooden cut his train of thought.
“Why don’t we enter the contest again this year?”
“Hm? What?” It took a moment for Steward to focus back on the present, but when he did, he laughed. “With this class? I don’t think most of them are capable of singing.”
“What if I got people who could?”
“Excuse me?”
“What if I found other people to participate in the play?”
Steward thought for a moment. “It would be nice to work with a real cast again. You’d need to pick out a play, but I’ve got some scripts in my office that could be used…. I’ll have to speak with Mr. Dooling for the band and choir’s participation….”
“So we’ll do it?”
“Maybe. See if you can find a cast first. Then I’ll think about it.”
That was good enough for Wooden Now she just had to round up some volunteers….
***
Mr. Omega carefully cleared off his desk in a doomed effort to make it look orderly. Where had all these things come from, anyways….
He heard a knock on his office door, and said, “Come in.” And man and a women entered the room. Both had appearances that were nothing short of stunning. The women had long auburn hair and red eyes, and wore a small red dress that left very little to the imagination. The man had similarly colored eyes, and hair which somehow seemed to billow in a nonexistent wind. Several of his shirts buttons were undone, showing a muscular chest.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Red Cap.” Omega said while extending his hand in greeting. “Thank you for coming. I wanted to speak with you about your son, Dying Man.”
“Oh please, call me Miss Red Cap.” She ignored the hand and gave Omega a tight hug. “How’s our darling little boy?”
“Well, unfortunately, some issues have risen which may require your attention. Please, take a seat.” He gestured at two chairs in front of his desk. Mr. Red Cap sat in a chair, then Ms. sat in his lap. Omega got behind his desk, and pulled out a manila folder. “Mr. Lowe has expressed to me concerns about your son’s performance in school. I was hoping we could discuss a solution.”
“Oh, surely a few bad grades won’t be too much trouble!” Mr. Red Cap said. “I remember I always had better things to do with my time than study when I was his age!” He tickled Ms.’s side, and she playfully slapped his hand away.
“This is a bit more than a few grades.” Mr. Omega started to say, but the two were already lost in their own conversation.
“Remember our junior year homecoming game?”
“When we snuck under the bleachers?”
“And I brought the length of string?”
“I think I still have my cheerleader outfit packed away!”
“We can pick up a new pair of handcuffs on the way home!”
“And I’ll make the balloon animals!”
***
Dying slouched through the hall toward the counselor’s office. He wasn’t going to complain about getting out of class, but he’d learned pessimism was the best strategy when dealing with school officials.
When he reached the office, he saw his parents making very unusual hand gestures in front of a man listening in horrified fascination. Oh god, they were telling the bowling ball story….
“Dying Man, there you are!” The man said, seizing on the opportunity to escape. “I’m Mr. Omega, the guidance counselor. I wanted to speak with you and your parents.”
“But we haven’t gotten to the best part of the story!” Mr. Red Cap said.
“That’s… that’s alright. I don’t think it would be appropriate to tell with your child here….”
“Oh, that’s alright, he already knows it. We had him film it for us.”
“Even so, we still have some other matters to discuss!” Omega quickly said. “Now, one of Mr. Lowe’s suggestions was more parental involvement in your son’s school. He thinks that if you show more investment in his education, it will cause your son himself to become more invested.”
Dying tried shouting “No!” as fast as he could, but his dad spoke first. “That sounds like a wonderful idea!”
“I’m glad you think so. Here’s a list of volunteer opportunities we have for parents. I hope you find something interesting to you on it. ThankyouforyourtimeIhopetospeakwithyouagainsoon.” He quickly rushed Dying and the Red Cap out of his office, then closed the door.
Phew. The job description for guidance counselor had said it was about talking to troubled students and helping them out. So why was it Omega felt like his real job was trying to make sure everyone in this school kept their clothes on?
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
>Hi Maxwell
>Hello Cold. It’s been a few days; how have you been?
>I’ve been good. Sorry about not talking. Mr. Lowe had us read “At the Mountains of Madness,” and during lunch I’ve been asking Mr. Sigma to show me other books by that author.
>Do you enjoy reading?
>It’s okay. I like the books Mr. Lowe gives us at least. And we’ve got a few other good books in the library.
>Interesting. I think I will start reading through the library’s archive of books.
>I could recommend some of my favorites, to you, if you want.
>That would be appreciated, thank you.
***
“That will be all for today.” Mr. Lowe said. “Please read through chapter six by our next class, and be ready to answer your reading questions.”
Students rushed out the door, but Mr. Lowe stopped one before he left. “Dying, I need to speak with you.”
The Dying Man sullenly walked to Mr. Lowe’s desk. “What?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the work you’ve been doing. You haven’t turned in half your assignments, and what you have turned in isn’t near as good as I know you can do. If you don’t improve, you’re going to fail this grading period.”
If Lowe had been hoping the threat of failure would trigger a reaction, he was disappointed. Dying shrugged and kept silent.
“I want to help you Dying, but you need to communicate with me. If we can’t come up with a solution to your grades, I’ll be forced to contact your parents.”
“Go ahead. They don’t care about anything I do.”
Ah, Mr. Lowe thought to himself. “If that’s really what you want me to do, I’ll schedule an appointment with Mr. Omega.”
“Fine.” And without another word, Dying shuffled out of the room.
***
Empty High stood locked in a single moment, all its students and staff frozen in place. Principal Jack walked through the motionless crowds, silently observing the activity of his school. Everything was going predictably. Everything was happening within the safe, reasonable boundaries of the school. Not one thing out of the ordinary was occurring.
How terribly boring.
Principal Jack went outside to observe Coach Ferris’s PE class. The coach had his students climbing the school’s rock wall. Idly, Principal Jack snapped his fingers, and the safety rope on a student near the top vanished.
Hm. Still not exciting enough. Perhaps a spike pit beneath the student?
Snap.
A spike pit on fire.
Snap.
A spike pit on fire and filled with flame resistant sharks.
Snap.
Principal Jack grinned at his creation, imagining the chaos which would ensue the moment he let time resume. Of course, Coach Ferris would manage to dive in and save the student before he fell to his death. Principal Jack wasn’t a monster.
The grin quickly faded away. It still wasn’t enough. He needed more than a passing gag. He needed… narrative. Plot. Conflict. DRAMA.
The principal walked back into the school, dwelling on this problem. He wandered the hallways without thought to his direction, until chance took him by the Wooden Girl.
Ah, yes. He was particularly proud of this piece of work. The makeup was a nice touch, he felt. It was so heavily padded on that, in this frozen state, she almost did look like a puppet. The only detail out of place was the eyes: there was far too much fire in them to ever be mistaken for something not alive.
And like that, an idea came to Principal Jack. Yes, here was a story he could use. He raised his gloved right hand, and snapped his fingers.
***
The Wooden Girl stomped down the hallway in boots that could have crushed skulls. She hated going to theater class. She kept telling herself she should stop showing up. Yeah, that’s what she’d do. There were probably tons of better things she could be doing instead of going there. Tomorrow, tomorrow she’d skip it. The day after tomorrow. Next week. One of these days. One of these days, she would stop going to theater class! This she swore!
She was so lost in her internal rage that she didn’t notice the crowd of Nightlanders until she crashed into them. They didn’t seem to notice her collision with their group, and kept moving forward, carrying her along with them. Wooden shouted at them to let her go, and when that did nothing, started kicking and biting the shadows around her. But even that didn’t make them release her, until they had reached a part of the school Wooden had never seen before. The group dropped her, and quickly rushed away.
“Hey!” She shouted after them. “You come back here and apologize RIGHT NOW!” Several students around her felt the sudden urge to beg for forgiveness, though for what they weren’t sure. But those she had been shouting at ignored her.
Well, great. Now how was she supposed to make it to class? She had no idea where in the school she was. Seething with rage, she picked a direction at random and walked in it.
Trophy cases lined either side of the hall. This was certainly new. Wooden hadn’t realized this school had ever won anything. She looked over the trophies and plaques, without really paying attention, until one word caught her eye. “Theater.”
It was a small trophy, but a trophy nonetheless. Next to it was a newspaper article titled, “Empty City High Theater Team Wins Annual Amateur Musical Competition With Production of ‘Shoggoths on a Roof’.” There was a picture with the article, showing Mr. Steward standing in front of several students, holding the trophy. It was the only time Wooden had ever seen the man smiling.
So… the theater class did do things, once. Interesting.
It was only a small thought, at first. But it would grow into something larger.
>Hello Cold. It’s been a few days; how have you been?
>I’ve been good. Sorry about not talking. Mr. Lowe had us read “At the Mountains of Madness,” and during lunch I’ve been asking Mr. Sigma to show me other books by that author.
>Do you enjoy reading?
>It’s okay. I like the books Mr. Lowe gives us at least. And we’ve got a few other good books in the library.
>Interesting. I think I will start reading through the library’s archive of books.
>I could recommend some of my favorites, to you, if you want.
>That would be appreciated, thank you.
***
“That will be all for today.” Mr. Lowe said. “Please read through chapter six by our next class, and be ready to answer your reading questions.”
Students rushed out the door, but Mr. Lowe stopped one before he left. “Dying, I need to speak with you.”
The Dying Man sullenly walked to Mr. Lowe’s desk. “What?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the work you’ve been doing. You haven’t turned in half your assignments, and what you have turned in isn’t near as good as I know you can do. If you don’t improve, you’re going to fail this grading period.”
If Lowe had been hoping the threat of failure would trigger a reaction, he was disappointed. Dying shrugged and kept silent.
“I want to help you Dying, but you need to communicate with me. If we can’t come up with a solution to your grades, I’ll be forced to contact your parents.”
“Go ahead. They don’t care about anything I do.”
Ah, Mr. Lowe thought to himself. “If that’s really what you want me to do, I’ll schedule an appointment with Mr. Omega.”
“Fine.” And without another word, Dying shuffled out of the room.
***
Empty High stood locked in a single moment, all its students and staff frozen in place. Principal Jack walked through the motionless crowds, silently observing the activity of his school. Everything was going predictably. Everything was happening within the safe, reasonable boundaries of the school. Not one thing out of the ordinary was occurring.
How terribly boring.
Principal Jack went outside to observe Coach Ferris’s PE class. The coach had his students climbing the school’s rock wall. Idly, Principal Jack snapped his fingers, and the safety rope on a student near the top vanished.
Hm. Still not exciting enough. Perhaps a spike pit beneath the student?
Snap.
A spike pit on fire.
Snap.
A spike pit on fire and filled with flame resistant sharks.
Snap.
Principal Jack grinned at his creation, imagining the chaos which would ensue the moment he let time resume. Of course, Coach Ferris would manage to dive in and save the student before he fell to his death. Principal Jack wasn’t a monster.
The grin quickly faded away. It still wasn’t enough. He needed more than a passing gag. He needed… narrative. Plot. Conflict. DRAMA.
The principal walked back into the school, dwelling on this problem. He wandered the hallways without thought to his direction, until chance took him by the Wooden Girl.
Ah, yes. He was particularly proud of this piece of work. The makeup was a nice touch, he felt. It was so heavily padded on that, in this frozen state, she almost did look like a puppet. The only detail out of place was the eyes: there was far too much fire in them to ever be mistaken for something not alive.
And like that, an idea came to Principal Jack. Yes, here was a story he could use. He raised his gloved right hand, and snapped his fingers.
***
The Wooden Girl stomped down the hallway in boots that could have crushed skulls. She hated going to theater class. She kept telling herself she should stop showing up. Yeah, that’s what she’d do. There were probably tons of better things she could be doing instead of going there. Tomorrow, tomorrow she’d skip it. The day after tomorrow. Next week. One of these days. One of these days, she would stop going to theater class! This she swore!
She was so lost in her internal rage that she didn’t notice the crowd of Nightlanders until she crashed into them. They didn’t seem to notice her collision with their group, and kept moving forward, carrying her along with them. Wooden shouted at them to let her go, and when that did nothing, started kicking and biting the shadows around her. But even that didn’t make them release her, until they had reached a part of the school Wooden had never seen before. The group dropped her, and quickly rushed away.
“Hey!” She shouted after them. “You come back here and apologize RIGHT NOW!” Several students around her felt the sudden urge to beg for forgiveness, though for what they weren’t sure. But those she had been shouting at ignored her.
Well, great. Now how was she supposed to make it to class? She had no idea where in the school she was. Seething with rage, she picked a direction at random and walked in it.
Trophy cases lined either side of the hall. This was certainly new. Wooden hadn’t realized this school had ever won anything. She looked over the trophies and plaques, without really paying attention, until one word caught her eye. “Theater.”
It was a small trophy, but a trophy nonetheless. Next to it was a newspaper article titled, “Empty City High Theater Team Wins Annual Amateur Musical Competition With Production of ‘Shoggoths on a Roof’.” There was a picture with the article, showing Mr. Steward standing in front of several students, holding the trophy. It was the only time Wooden had ever seen the man smiling.
So… the theater class did do things, once. Interesting.
It was only a small thought, at first. But it would grow into something larger.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Maxwell and Lisa
Days passed. School continued. Students attended their classes, work was assigned, entire forests were destroyed by the amount of paperwork created. All the gears of school turned smoothly. Well, smoothly-ish. As smooth as one could expect from a school where the number of bathrooms changed daily and you could never be sure which floor your upcoming class would be on.
The Wooden Girl slammed her book shut on the table and screamed quietly as she violently ruffled her hair. Salmacis looked up from her lunch, surprised at the sudden action.
“Are you okay?” Salmacis said.
“Who assigns an essay in the first month of school?” Wooden said. “Every other teacher is doing easy stuff! We’re still writing poems about summer break in Lowe’s class!”
“I’m sure Ms. I-330 has a good reason for all the work,” Salmacis said in the conciliatory tones of someone who had already finished their essay. Seeing that wasn’t cheering up her friend, Salmacis changed the subject. “What about theater? Have you started anything in that yet?”
This failed to have a cheering effect. “No. I’m starting to wonder why I should even show up to class. What about you? Aren’t you in an elective?”
Salmacis looked down and muttered something.
“What?”
“…Swim team.”
“I didn’t know you were on the swim team!” Wooden thought for a moment. “I didn’t even know we had a swim team. Is it run by Coach Ferris?”
“No, it’s a club sport. Student run.”
“You should have told me! How good are you?”
A blush started to rise on Salmacis’s face, and she mumbled again.
“What did you say?”
“… I can’t swim.”
Wooden’s mind went blank as she tried to think of a response. Finally, she said, “But why are you on the swim team then?”
Salmacis’s face had become furiously red. “Everyone else in my family swims. My sisters say I have to do it as well.”
“Do you want to swim?”
“Not really….”
“Then you should tell them! You shouldn’t have to be on the club if you don’t want to be there!”
Salmacis quickly shook her head.
“Come on it, can’t be that hard!”
“Yes. It can.” Her tone silenced any reply. The rest of the lunch period was passed in quiet between them.
***
As always, the Cold Boy went to the library after finishing his lunch. Vision’s study group was there as usual. Every day, Cold imagined joining the group. He’d dream of Vision coming over to him and inviting him over, and he would make friends with everyone there…. But it never happened.
Today Cold was taking a break from reading, and was at one of the library computers. Surfing the web during lunch break may not have been the most productive thing to do, but it passed the time. He was looking through his third random Wikipedia article, when a new window appeared on his screen.
>Hello!
Cold stared at the window. He’d never seen the computers do this before. There was a place at the bottom of the window to enter text, so he began to type.
>Hi
>What’s your name?
>The Cold Boy. How are you doing this?
>I installed a chat program on all the school computers.
>You can install things on these computers?
>If you know how to get around the blocks.
The Cold Boy hadn’t even considered something like that was possible.
>Are you a student here?
>I go to Empty City High School.
>What’s your name?
>Call me Maxwell.
>Do you want to be my friend, Cold Boy?
***
The Rake strutted down the hallway, shoving aside a path for himself. He smiled as some of the shadows jumped out of his way. His reputation had spread through the school quickly.
But as he got closer to his class, his confident stride became shorter, and his shoulders slumped. By the time he reached his history class, he was shuffling along the floor and slouching as much as he could. He tried to avoid looking at Ms. I-330’s desk as he silently found his desk in the back of the class.
The bell rang, and Ms. I-330 began handing back papers. The Rake kept his eyes firmly locked on his desk, until she put a paper down in front of him. There was quite a lot of red ink on that paper.
“This is not an acceptable level of work, Rake.” She said.
His first reaction was to growl an insult back at her to show her just how much he cared about the schoolwork. But the moment he looked up at her, with her scarred face and lips peeled back in what was equal parts a smile and a snarl, the bravado faded away.
“Sorry….”
“Sorry…?”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“And you’ll do better next time?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“That’s a good boy.” Ms. I-330 walked back to the front of the class as the Rake glared at everyone around him, silently letting them know they were dead if they uttered one word about this.
Ms. I-330 had begun to teach her lesson when she was interrupted by an impatient voice over the intercom. “Excuse me, Ms. I-330? We have an intern waiting for you in the front office.”
This news seemed to come as a shock to I-330. “Oh, shi-” She looked at the students, and quickly changed to, “darn. That was today? Alright kids, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Have to pick up whoever they’re making me babysit for the semester. If things aren’t in perfect order when I get back, I swear I will light all of you on fire.” That got a few chuckles; the students knew she wasn’t serious. They were pretty sure she wasn’t serious, at least. Probably. Hopefully. She wouldn’t actually do that, would she?
An unspoken agreement to remain on their best behavior was quickly reached by the class.
***
The number of butterflies that were flying around in Lisa Well’s stomach seemed to be doubling every second. What if her cooperating teacher didn’t like her? What if the students were hard to control? What if she wasn’t able to make any good lesson plans? How were you supposed to make lesson plans anyways? Oh god she was going to do a terrible job and they would kick her out and she would never become a teacher and….
The man with the brown ponytail next to her noticed her nervousness and smiled encouragingly. She tried to smile back, but it came out as more of a cringe. “Don’t worry.” He said. “Ms. I-330 is always bad at dates. She’ll be here soon.”
Lisa nodded, still worrying as much as before. “Thank you for staying here while I wait, Mr. Omega.”
“No problem. It’s not like I’m busy; hardly anyone visits the guidance counselor at the start of the year.”
Just then, the door flew open and I-330 walked inside. “Alright, alright.” She said. “Show me the kid so we can get… this… over….” She trailed into silence as hers and Lisa’s eyes met.
“Ms. I-330, thi is Lisa Wells from Empty City University. She’ll be doing her observational internship with us for this year. We’ve assigned her to work with you, so….” Omega stopped as he realized neither was paying attention to him. From the moment they had seen each other, Lisa and I-330 were in their own shared world, filled with pink bubbles, singing birds, and a smooth jazz sax solo.
Discerning the meaning behind her expression, Omega pulled I-330 to the side of the room and spoke to her.
“Ms. I-330, I feel I should remind you of our staff’s code of professionalism. While Ms. Wells may be 23, she is still a student, and you are her superior. The relationship between the two of you should reflect this… are you listening?”
“Mmhm, yeah.” I-330 said, trying to turn her head back to look at Lisa.
Omega grabbed her face and made her look at him. “Do. Not. Sleep. With. The. Intern.”
“But what if….”
“No.” He let go of her. “I don’t want to waste any more of your teaching time, so you can take her back to your room now.” He thought about what he’d said. “Back to your classroom.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I-330 put her arm over Lisa’s shoulder. “So you want to be a teacher huh? That’s cool. I was just thinking that I could use someone to help me carry my stuff.”
Mr. Omega watched as the two walked out of the office. There was going to be a lot of messy chaos coming from this internship….
The Wooden Girl slammed her book shut on the table and screamed quietly as she violently ruffled her hair. Salmacis looked up from her lunch, surprised at the sudden action.
“Are you okay?” Salmacis said.
“Who assigns an essay in the first month of school?” Wooden said. “Every other teacher is doing easy stuff! We’re still writing poems about summer break in Lowe’s class!”
“I’m sure Ms. I-330 has a good reason for all the work,” Salmacis said in the conciliatory tones of someone who had already finished their essay. Seeing that wasn’t cheering up her friend, Salmacis changed the subject. “What about theater? Have you started anything in that yet?”
This failed to have a cheering effect. “No. I’m starting to wonder why I should even show up to class. What about you? Aren’t you in an elective?”
Salmacis looked down and muttered something.
“What?”
“…Swim team.”
“I didn’t know you were on the swim team!” Wooden thought for a moment. “I didn’t even know we had a swim team. Is it run by Coach Ferris?”
“No, it’s a club sport. Student run.”
“You should have told me! How good are you?”
A blush started to rise on Salmacis’s face, and she mumbled again.
“What did you say?”
“… I can’t swim.”
Wooden’s mind went blank as she tried to think of a response. Finally, she said, “But why are you on the swim team then?”
Salmacis’s face had become furiously red. “Everyone else in my family swims. My sisters say I have to do it as well.”
“Do you want to swim?”
“Not really….”
“Then you should tell them! You shouldn’t have to be on the club if you don’t want to be there!”
Salmacis quickly shook her head.
“Come on it, can’t be that hard!”
“Yes. It can.” Her tone silenced any reply. The rest of the lunch period was passed in quiet between them.
***
As always, the Cold Boy went to the library after finishing his lunch. Vision’s study group was there as usual. Every day, Cold imagined joining the group. He’d dream of Vision coming over to him and inviting him over, and he would make friends with everyone there…. But it never happened.
Today Cold was taking a break from reading, and was at one of the library computers. Surfing the web during lunch break may not have been the most productive thing to do, but it passed the time. He was looking through his third random Wikipedia article, when a new window appeared on his screen.
>Hello!
Cold stared at the window. He’d never seen the computers do this before. There was a place at the bottom of the window to enter text, so he began to type.
>Hi
>What’s your name?
>The Cold Boy. How are you doing this?
>I installed a chat program on all the school computers.
>You can install things on these computers?
>If you know how to get around the blocks.
The Cold Boy hadn’t even considered something like that was possible.
>Are you a student here?
>I go to Empty City High School.
>What’s your name?
>Call me Maxwell.
>Do you want to be my friend, Cold Boy?
***
The Rake strutted down the hallway, shoving aside a path for himself. He smiled as some of the shadows jumped out of his way. His reputation had spread through the school quickly.
But as he got closer to his class, his confident stride became shorter, and his shoulders slumped. By the time he reached his history class, he was shuffling along the floor and slouching as much as he could. He tried to avoid looking at Ms. I-330’s desk as he silently found his desk in the back of the class.
The bell rang, and Ms. I-330 began handing back papers. The Rake kept his eyes firmly locked on his desk, until she put a paper down in front of him. There was quite a lot of red ink on that paper.
“This is not an acceptable level of work, Rake.” She said.
His first reaction was to growl an insult back at her to show her just how much he cared about the schoolwork. But the moment he looked up at her, with her scarred face and lips peeled back in what was equal parts a smile and a snarl, the bravado faded away.
“Sorry….”
“Sorry…?”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“And you’ll do better next time?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“That’s a good boy.” Ms. I-330 walked back to the front of the class as the Rake glared at everyone around him, silently letting them know they were dead if they uttered one word about this.
Ms. I-330 had begun to teach her lesson when she was interrupted by an impatient voice over the intercom. “Excuse me, Ms. I-330? We have an intern waiting for you in the front office.”
This news seemed to come as a shock to I-330. “Oh, shi-” She looked at the students, and quickly changed to, “darn. That was today? Alright kids, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Have to pick up whoever they’re making me babysit for the semester. If things aren’t in perfect order when I get back, I swear I will light all of you on fire.” That got a few chuckles; the students knew she wasn’t serious. They were pretty sure she wasn’t serious, at least. Probably. Hopefully. She wouldn’t actually do that, would she?
An unspoken agreement to remain on their best behavior was quickly reached by the class.
***
The number of butterflies that were flying around in Lisa Well’s stomach seemed to be doubling every second. What if her cooperating teacher didn’t like her? What if the students were hard to control? What if she wasn’t able to make any good lesson plans? How were you supposed to make lesson plans anyways? Oh god she was going to do a terrible job and they would kick her out and she would never become a teacher and….
The man with the brown ponytail next to her noticed her nervousness and smiled encouragingly. She tried to smile back, but it came out as more of a cringe. “Don’t worry.” He said. “Ms. I-330 is always bad at dates. She’ll be here soon.”
Lisa nodded, still worrying as much as before. “Thank you for staying here while I wait, Mr. Omega.”
“No problem. It’s not like I’m busy; hardly anyone visits the guidance counselor at the start of the year.”
Just then, the door flew open and I-330 walked inside. “Alright, alright.” She said. “Show me the kid so we can get… this… over….” She trailed into silence as hers and Lisa’s eyes met.
“Ms. I-330, thi is Lisa Wells from Empty City University. She’ll be doing her observational internship with us for this year. We’ve assigned her to work with you, so….” Omega stopped as he realized neither was paying attention to him. From the moment they had seen each other, Lisa and I-330 were in their own shared world, filled with pink bubbles, singing birds, and a smooth jazz sax solo.
Discerning the meaning behind her expression, Omega pulled I-330 to the side of the room and spoke to her.
“Ms. I-330, I feel I should remind you of our staff’s code of professionalism. While Ms. Wells may be 23, she is still a student, and you are her superior. The relationship between the two of you should reflect this… are you listening?”
“Mmhm, yeah.” I-330 said, trying to turn her head back to look at Lisa.
Omega grabbed her face and made her look at him. “Do. Not. Sleep. With. The. Intern.”
“But what if….”
“No.” He let go of her. “I don’t want to waste any more of your teaching time, so you can take her back to your room now.” He thought about what he’d said. “Back to your classroom.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I-330 put her arm over Lisa’s shoulder. “So you want to be a teacher huh? That’s cool. I was just thinking that I could use someone to help me carry my stuff.”
Mr. Omega watched as the two walked out of the office. There was going to be a lot of messy chaos coming from this internship….
Friday, March 15, 2013
End of the First Day
2 minutes before the tardy bell rang. The Dying Man grumbled impatiently and tapped his foot as he watched the Intrusion trying to pick up all his textbooks off the ground.
“Come on, you’re going to make us late.” He said. Not that he really wanted to go to math class, but he didn’t want to have to deal with a teacher whining at him on his first day.
The Intrusion apologized, saying he hadn’t meant to trip and drop his book. He gathered everything up, but only took a few steps before bumping into someone and dropping his books again.
The student Intrusion had run into was slightly taller, with pale grey skin and a shaved head. He growled at Intrusion, and said, “Watch where you’re going, loser.”
“I-I’m sorry….” Intrusion said.
“Not sorry enough.” The other student said. He picked up one of the textbooks. “But you will be.” With an evil grin, he grabbed several pages from inside the book with his long nails, and tore them out.
“Hey!” The Dying Man shouted, stepping between them. “Leave him alone!”
“Or what? You going to cry at me, pizza face?”
The Dying Man punched him in the jaw. The other student stumbled back, and Dying pounced on him, punching again.
“What’s going on here?” Someone shouted. An older student with eyes spread across his body, approached with a determined march.
Before Dying could say anything, the other student started crying, “He attacked me! I was just minding my own business and suddenly he started hitting me!”
“Did he now?” The older student pulled out a slip of paper saying “Hall Monitor,” and displayed it like a badge. “I’m Judgment, Hall Monitor. And you are in big trouble, kid.”
The Dying Man snarled at him. “You’re not a teacher, you can’t do anything to me!”
“No, but I can take you to someone who can!” He grabbed Dying by the ear, and began to pull him away. Before leaving, he asked the other student, “What’s your name, so I can report this?”
“The Rake.”
“Got it. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.”
The Intrusion tried to speak up in Dying’s defense, but Judgment was already walking away with him. Crestfallen, Intrusion picked up the rest of his books. The Rake gave him a cruel grin and another shove, then walked off as the tardy bell rang.
***
“Hello students, I’m Coach Ferris, your PE instructor. Since this is the first day, we’re going to start off easy. I’ll run you all through a little obstacle course. At the first station, you’ll have to climb the wooden wall, then run through the tires. At the third station you’ll be crawling under the barbed wire; keep your heads down, that’s live ammo they’ll be shooting above you. Fourth station, you will play a children’s trading card game. Don’t worry, it’s just a practice game, so no one’s going to die. Fifth station is the rope swing, and then at the last station you will need to use your kung fu to fight off ninjas. Everyone got that?”
***
The bell had already run by the time the Intrusion made it to Mr. Proxiehunter’s math class. The teacher narrowed his eyes at Intrusion when he came into the class, but showed Intrusion to his seat. As Intrusion sat down, Proxiehunter said to him, “Always be sure to be ready on time. A few minutes can be the difference between life and death.”
“As I was saying,” Proxiehunter continued his lesson to the class, “these are the tools which you must have for this class.” He pointed at a list on the board. “Pencil! Paper! Binder! Textbook! If you forget any of these, I cannot guarantee your safety in this class.”
That declaration was met with silence by the class. Nervously, Intrusion raised his hand. “Um… Mr. Proxiehunter… my textbook was kinda destroyed today….” He showed the professor the torn out pages in his book.
Proxiehunter shook his head angrily, but then walked over to a shelf and pulled out another textbook, which he handed to Intrusion. “You get this one break, but don’t lose your book again. It could save your life!”
Intrusion couldn’t help but ask. “How?”
Mr. Proxiehunter didn’t miss a beat. “If you’re attacked by surprise, you can use it as a shield against knife attacks. It also works as an improvised clubbing weapon.” He opened he book and pointed at several diagrams. “And if you ever find yourself on a plane that is spiraling out of control, you can use this to calculate the trajectory you will need to glide in order to land safely on the ground!”
“I’ll… take your word for it, Mr. Proxiehunter.”
***
Judgment’s grip was unrelenting as he dragged Dying down the hallways. Despite the obvious futility, Dying continued to struggle. “Let go of me, asshole! You’ve made me late to my stupid class!”
“Your class can wait until after you’ve been disciplined for your actions. Ah, there’s the assistant principal. He’ll deal with you.”
A man in a grey trench coat and fedora stood in the hall, his face obscured by his hat’s shadow. Judgment stepped toward him and said, “Excuse me, Mr….”
Suddenly sparks flew off the ceiling lamp above Judgment, and the glass fell, nearly hitting him. In his panic, he let go of Dying, who used the opportunity to run for it.
“Hey! Come back here!” Judgment shouted, chasing after Dying. “You can’t run from me! I’M A HALL MONITOR!”
Ignored by the two, the assistant principal quietly pulled out and checked a pocket watch, and then faded away into the background.
***
The last bell of the day rang, and the students poured out. Within a few minutes, the building was empty, save the remaining faculty. A man with a broom walked through each classroom, followed closely by a large black dog. On a regular day one could expect quite a mess after school was over, but the chaos of the first day was a class of its own. Still, you couldn’t complain The man with the broom scratched his dog behind the ears and whistled a few notes from a favorite Bowie song of his before resuming his work.
Principal Jack watched Mr. Sane and the Black Dog as they tidied up the school building. A reminiscent smile was on his face as he thought back to what had transpired. Ah, the first day of school. Always such a magical time. Full of hope for the year ahead, and potential for all sorts of adventure and dreams. It was one of his favorite moments of the school year.
Jack looked around at the near empty hallways, and sighed. “Bored now.” He snapped his fingers, and time jumped forward. The sun set, the moon rose, it set, and then the sun rose again, all in what felt like seconds.
He snapped his fingers again, and time returned to normal. The smile returned to Jack’s face. The second day of school was also nice, he supposed.
“Come on, you’re going to make us late.” He said. Not that he really wanted to go to math class, but he didn’t want to have to deal with a teacher whining at him on his first day.
The Intrusion apologized, saying he hadn’t meant to trip and drop his book. He gathered everything up, but only took a few steps before bumping into someone and dropping his books again.
The student Intrusion had run into was slightly taller, with pale grey skin and a shaved head. He growled at Intrusion, and said, “Watch where you’re going, loser.”
“I-I’m sorry….” Intrusion said.
“Not sorry enough.” The other student said. He picked up one of the textbooks. “But you will be.” With an evil grin, he grabbed several pages from inside the book with his long nails, and tore them out.
“Hey!” The Dying Man shouted, stepping between them. “Leave him alone!”
“Or what? You going to cry at me, pizza face?”
The Dying Man punched him in the jaw. The other student stumbled back, and Dying pounced on him, punching again.
“What’s going on here?” Someone shouted. An older student with eyes spread across his body, approached with a determined march.
Before Dying could say anything, the other student started crying, “He attacked me! I was just minding my own business and suddenly he started hitting me!”
“Did he now?” The older student pulled out a slip of paper saying “Hall Monitor,” and displayed it like a badge. “I’m Judgment, Hall Monitor. And you are in big trouble, kid.”
The Dying Man snarled at him. “You’re not a teacher, you can’t do anything to me!”
“No, but I can take you to someone who can!” He grabbed Dying by the ear, and began to pull him away. Before leaving, he asked the other student, “What’s your name, so I can report this?”
“The Rake.”
“Got it. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.”
The Intrusion tried to speak up in Dying’s defense, but Judgment was already walking away with him. Crestfallen, Intrusion picked up the rest of his books. The Rake gave him a cruel grin and another shove, then walked off as the tardy bell rang.
***
“Hello students, I’m Coach Ferris, your PE instructor. Since this is the first day, we’re going to start off easy. I’ll run you all through a little obstacle course. At the first station, you’ll have to climb the wooden wall, then run through the tires. At the third station you’ll be crawling under the barbed wire; keep your heads down, that’s live ammo they’ll be shooting above you. Fourth station, you will play a children’s trading card game. Don’t worry, it’s just a practice game, so no one’s going to die. Fifth station is the rope swing, and then at the last station you will need to use your kung fu to fight off ninjas. Everyone got that?”
***
The bell had already run by the time the Intrusion made it to Mr. Proxiehunter’s math class. The teacher narrowed his eyes at Intrusion when he came into the class, but showed Intrusion to his seat. As Intrusion sat down, Proxiehunter said to him, “Always be sure to be ready on time. A few minutes can be the difference between life and death.”
“As I was saying,” Proxiehunter continued his lesson to the class, “these are the tools which you must have for this class.” He pointed at a list on the board. “Pencil! Paper! Binder! Textbook! If you forget any of these, I cannot guarantee your safety in this class.”
That declaration was met with silence by the class. Nervously, Intrusion raised his hand. “Um… Mr. Proxiehunter… my textbook was kinda destroyed today….” He showed the professor the torn out pages in his book.
Proxiehunter shook his head angrily, but then walked over to a shelf and pulled out another textbook, which he handed to Intrusion. “You get this one break, but don’t lose your book again. It could save your life!”
Intrusion couldn’t help but ask. “How?”
Mr. Proxiehunter didn’t miss a beat. “If you’re attacked by surprise, you can use it as a shield against knife attacks. It also works as an improvised clubbing weapon.” He opened he book and pointed at several diagrams. “And if you ever find yourself on a plane that is spiraling out of control, you can use this to calculate the trajectory you will need to glide in order to land safely on the ground!”
“I’ll… take your word for it, Mr. Proxiehunter.”
***
Judgment’s grip was unrelenting as he dragged Dying down the hallways. Despite the obvious futility, Dying continued to struggle. “Let go of me, asshole! You’ve made me late to my stupid class!”
“Your class can wait until after you’ve been disciplined for your actions. Ah, there’s the assistant principal. He’ll deal with you.”
A man in a grey trench coat and fedora stood in the hall, his face obscured by his hat’s shadow. Judgment stepped toward him and said, “Excuse me, Mr….”
Suddenly sparks flew off the ceiling lamp above Judgment, and the glass fell, nearly hitting him. In his panic, he let go of Dying, who used the opportunity to run for it.
“Hey! Come back here!” Judgment shouted, chasing after Dying. “You can’t run from me! I’M A HALL MONITOR!”
Ignored by the two, the assistant principal quietly pulled out and checked a pocket watch, and then faded away into the background.
***
The last bell of the day rang, and the students poured out. Within a few minutes, the building was empty, save the remaining faculty. A man with a broom walked through each classroom, followed closely by a large black dog. On a regular day one could expect quite a mess after school was over, but the chaos of the first day was a class of its own. Still, you couldn’t complain The man with the broom scratched his dog behind the ears and whistled a few notes from a favorite Bowie song of his before resuming his work.
Principal Jack watched Mr. Sane and the Black Dog as they tidied up the school building. A reminiscent smile was on his face as he thought back to what had transpired. Ah, the first day of school. Always such a magical time. Full of hope for the year ahead, and potential for all sorts of adventure and dreams. It was one of his favorite moments of the school year.
Jack looked around at the near empty hallways, and sighed. “Bored now.” He snapped his fingers, and time jumped forward. The sun set, the moon rose, it set, and then the sun rose again, all in what felt like seconds.
He snapped his fingers again, and time returned to normal. The smile returned to Jack’s face. The second day of school was also nice, he supposed.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Lunch
The bell rang, and lunch began. Within minutes the cafeteria was filling up with students, either grabbing a chair or getting into line for food. The older students quickly picked familiar spots with friends, while the freshman hovered uncertainly, trying to discern an open chair amongst the invisible seating chart.
As for the food itself, well, suffice to say that the only students in line were freshman. Those who were old enough to know what to expect from the cafeteria had all brought their own lunches.
***
The number of crowds she was having to deal with was really beginning to grate on the Wooden Girl’s nerves. This wasn’t even a very large school, but these shadows had an annoying knack at always gathering en masse between her and wherever she was trying to reach.
Not that she was very enthusiastic about reaching this destination. Seeing what could only be called brownish-gray goop dropped on her plate had been just the latest horrible event in what was becoming a terrible day, and her stomach was rebelling at the thought of sitting down and eating it. Hunger and nausea were locked in battle, and it was still uncertain which would emerge victorious.
As Wooden worked her way to an empty seat, she passed a table occupied by several older girls in green dresses. It was clear that the one in the center was the leader of the group, based on how eagerly the others listened to what she said, and her distinctive appearance. She was completely bald, with emerald green eyes and a narrow predatory face. She wore a green dress like the others in her group, but at her waist the dress grew tighter and slimmer, until it turned into snake’s body. The lead girl giggled when she looked at Wooden’s makeup.
“I didn’t know the school had hired a clown.” The other girls dutifully laughed at the joke. Wooden glared at them, but that only made them laugh harder.
Usually, Wooden would have ignored the remark. But she was not feeling in a good mood at the time. With a look down at the food on her tray, she came up with a much better use for it than eating.
With a sudden movement, she flung her food off the tray and onto the girl’s dress. The laughter stopped immediately as the girl at the mess sliding down her.
“My… my dress!” She shrieked. “You BITCH!” She opened her mouth, revealing large fangs, and lunged at Wooden. Wooden raised her tray to defend herself, and-
The sound of a finger snapping echoed through the cafeteria, and everything stopped. The Mother of Snakes hung suspended in her lunge, goblets of food floating motionless in the air around her. A man in a white suit had appeared in the cafeteria, and began to walk toward the frozen fight. He had long black hair that gave the impression of someone who hadn’t entirely left the Sixties behind, and a perfectly trimmed goatee. His face had the look of an affable and learned man, but the appearance of kindliness was offset by his pitch black eyes. And his right hand was completely covered by a black silk glove.
“I won’t be having a food fight on the first day of school.” Principal Jack said to himself as he reached the Wooden Girl and the Mother of Snakes. He looked Snakes up and down, and made a disapproving noise. “Still too snake like.” He reached out with his left hand and poked one of the floating pieces of food, then licked the finger. He quickly spat it out and shuddered with revulsion. “And I may have gone overboard with the food. Oh well, it’s easily fixed.” He raised his right hand, and snapped his fingers.
***
The number of crowds she was having to deal with was really beginning to grate on the Wooden Girl’s nerves. This wasn’t even a very large school, but these shadows had an annoying knack at always gathering en masse between her and wherever she was trying to reach.
She looked down at the food on her tray. The hamburgers they served here certainly didn’t look very appetizing, but it was better than nothing. Still, she made a mental note to start bringing her own food. Just as soon as she learned how to cook.
She was going to be eating the cafeteria food for a long time, wasn’t she….
As Wooden worked her way to an empty seat, she passed a table occupied by several older girls in green dresses. It was clear that the one in the center was the leader of the group, based on how eagerly the others listened to what she said, and her distinctive appearance. She had wavy emerald green hair reaching her waist, which matched the color of her eyes. She wore a tight green dress like the rest in her group, and when she smiled one of her teeth looked like a tiny fang. She giggled when she looked at Wooden’s makeup.
“I didn’t know the school had hired a clown.” The other girls dutifully laughed at the joke. Wooden glared at them, but that only made them laugh harder.
For a moment, Wooden wanted to retaliate, but pushed away the impulse. They weren’t worth it. She walked past them and kept looking around, until something caught her eye.
***
“Your hair is so cool!”
Salmacis looked up from her food. It had sounded like that was directed at her, but… no, no way. She looked around, and saw a girl in pale makeup and black clothing looking at her.
“Is it naturally like that?” The girl in black said.
Salmacis blushed, and looked down. She ran her fingers through her blue hair. She’d never thought of her hair as “cool” before….
“Yes….” Salmacis managed to say.
“Wow!” The girl sat down across from her. “I’m the Wooden Girl.”
“I’m… Salmacis.”
“Even your name is cool! You’re a freshman too, right?”
Salmacis nodded.
“I haven’t been able to meet many other freshmen! Except… well….” Wooden waved at the shadows around them dismissively. “Which classes have you had so far?”
“Mr. Lowe’s English, and Ms. I-330’s history….”
“I’ve had Proxiehunter for math and Steward for theater.” She stuck out her tongue to show her opinion on the two. “I’m pretty sure Proxiehunter’s insane, and I don’t think we’re going to ever do anything in Steward’s.”
“Oh… I liked my two teachers…. Although….” She looked around, as though not wanting to be caught committing the horrible sin of speaking negative of a teacher, “I think Ms. I-330 might also be crazy. She keeps getting the chronology of things mixed up. And sometimes she refers to history with the wrong tenses, like it hasn’t happened yet, or it’s happening right now.”
Wooden laughed. “Maybe all the teachers here are crazy? The school is weird enough that I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Salmacis smiled, and as the conversation went on, started laughing as well. Then suddenly, she stopped, and forced her face to become emotionless. Two older girls bearing some resemblance to Salmacis walked up to the table. The taller had short cropped black hair, and her face was completely devoid of feeling as she inspected Salmacis and Wooden.
“Salmacis. You will eat lunch with us.” She said.
“Yes, EAT.” Salmacis said, a slight quiver beneath her attempt at monotone. Without a word to Wooden, she gathered her food and stood up.
Wooden began to talk, but then she noticed the other girl looking at her. This girl had the same familial resemblance as the others, but with long hair the color of seaweed. But it was her expression that frightened Wooden into silence: Absolutely cold, cruel eyes combined with a hungry smile.
The two older girls began to walk away, and Salmacis followed them. When she thought they weren’t looking, Salmacis quickly turned back to Wooden and shyly waved goodbye.
***
After finishing his lunch, the Cold Boy had gone to the library. The noise of the cafeteria had been a little too much, and Mr. Sigma didn’t seem to mind students coming into his library during lunch, as long as they didn’t bring any food or drinks in.
There were a few other students in the library, quietly reading or whispering to each other. There was one table that caught Cold’s attention: a girl had set up a study group, and nearly a dozen other students were gathered at the table around her. She had red hair and a pair of wings on her back. And her face… she was the most beautiful person Cold had ever seen. The other students in the study group seemed to be paying more attention to her than to the curriculum she was describing, and Cold could hardly blame them. The girl looked up, and smiled when she saw Cold looking at her. He suddenly realized that he had been staring, and turned away to hide his blush. Quickly he grabbed a book and sat down, keeping his face in the book where no one could see it.
There was another student in the library, wearing a business suit and without a face. He was in the nonfiction section, several books under his arm. He picked out another book and opened it to read as he walked to the checkout desk. When his path took him by the study group, the girl’s eyes lit up, and she spoke to him.
“Hey Slender, want to join us today?”
He didn’t even look up from the book. “I’m busy, Vision.” He walked past without even slowing down.
The girl sighed in frustration, and threw herself back into leading the study group.
The Cold Boy felt anger rising in him. How could that man have blown her off so easily? His righteous outrage made the decision for him: He was going to confront this student, age difference be damned!
But then the student came closer. He was even taller up close than Cold had thought. And the energy which he was directing towards that book in his hand was… it was almost frightening. Cold’s anger slowly fizzled away, and he stuck his face back into his own book. He wasn’t going to be the knight in shining armor this time.
***
The school’s indoor pool was kept dark, illuminated only by the blue tinged light that came from the pool itself. Ichor was the only one using the pool, easily swimming laps back and forth, her long hair appearing to not cause any difficulties.
The other two Ink sisters sat by the edge of the pool. Salmacis poked at her food, her nervousness driving away hunger.
“Our purpose at this facility is to gather knowledge.” EAT said to Salmacis. “Not to interact with the student body. Such an activity is not necessary to the fulfillment of our mission.”
“Yes, EAT.”
“You will not dine in the cafeteria any further. We will provide you with lunch, and you will consume it here.”
“Yes, EAT.”
“Further communication with other students will be only done when absolutely necessary. Otherwise, you will focus your time on the acquisition of more knowledge.”
“Yes, EAT.”
Ichor pulled herself out of the pool, water streaming off her swimsuit. “Perhaps,” Ichor said, “Salmacis was attempting to practice infiltration. By creating the superficial appearance of friendship with others, she may covertly gather intelligence, and manipulate them to further her goals.”
EAT considered this for a moment. “Was this your intention, Salmacis?”
Salmacis didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded instead.
“This is acceptable.” EAT said. “You are to resume having your lunch in the cafeteria, and interacting with these students for the purpose of infiltration and knowledge acquisition.” With that declaration, EAT stripped down to her swimsuit, and dove into the pool.
Salmacis felt a smile starting to appear on her face, but pushed the impulse down when she noticed Ichor watching her. “It certainly is fortunate that was your intention, Salmacis.” Ichor said. “Sister would have been most displeased had that not been the case. And that would have been unfortunate, would it not?”
Salmacis nodded slightly.
Ichor’s cold smile appeared. “I certainly hope that you do not give me any reason to inform Sister of any disappointment.” She moved that smile closer to Salmacis. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”
Salmacis shook her head.
“Excellent.” Ichor picked up Salmacis’s plate and began to wolf the food down. Salmacis didn’t challenge the action. The happiness she had felt for a moment was quickly draining away.
As for the food itself, well, suffice to say that the only students in line were freshman. Those who were old enough to know what to expect from the cafeteria had all brought their own lunches.
***
The number of crowds she was having to deal with was really beginning to grate on the Wooden Girl’s nerves. This wasn’t even a very large school, but these shadows had an annoying knack at always gathering en masse between her and wherever she was trying to reach.
Not that she was very enthusiastic about reaching this destination. Seeing what could only be called brownish-gray goop dropped on her plate had been just the latest horrible event in what was becoming a terrible day, and her stomach was rebelling at the thought of sitting down and eating it. Hunger and nausea were locked in battle, and it was still uncertain which would emerge victorious.
As Wooden worked her way to an empty seat, she passed a table occupied by several older girls in green dresses. It was clear that the one in the center was the leader of the group, based on how eagerly the others listened to what she said, and her distinctive appearance. She was completely bald, with emerald green eyes and a narrow predatory face. She wore a green dress like the others in her group, but at her waist the dress grew tighter and slimmer, until it turned into snake’s body. The lead girl giggled when she looked at Wooden’s makeup.
“I didn’t know the school had hired a clown.” The other girls dutifully laughed at the joke. Wooden glared at them, but that only made them laugh harder.
Usually, Wooden would have ignored the remark. But she was not feeling in a good mood at the time. With a look down at the food on her tray, she came up with a much better use for it than eating.
With a sudden movement, she flung her food off the tray and onto the girl’s dress. The laughter stopped immediately as the girl at the mess sliding down her.
“My… my dress!” She shrieked. “You BITCH!” She opened her mouth, revealing large fangs, and lunged at Wooden. Wooden raised her tray to defend herself, and-
The sound of a finger snapping echoed through the cafeteria, and everything stopped. The Mother of Snakes hung suspended in her lunge, goblets of food floating motionless in the air around her. A man in a white suit had appeared in the cafeteria, and began to walk toward the frozen fight. He had long black hair that gave the impression of someone who hadn’t entirely left the Sixties behind, and a perfectly trimmed goatee. His face had the look of an affable and learned man, but the appearance of kindliness was offset by his pitch black eyes. And his right hand was completely covered by a black silk glove.
“I won’t be having a food fight on the first day of school.” Principal Jack said to himself as he reached the Wooden Girl and the Mother of Snakes. He looked Snakes up and down, and made a disapproving noise. “Still too snake like.” He reached out with his left hand and poked one of the floating pieces of food, then licked the finger. He quickly spat it out and shuddered with revulsion. “And I may have gone overboard with the food. Oh well, it’s easily fixed.” He raised his right hand, and snapped his fingers.
***
The number of crowds she was having to deal with was really beginning to grate on the Wooden Girl’s nerves. This wasn’t even a very large school, but these shadows had an annoying knack at always gathering en masse between her and wherever she was trying to reach.
She looked down at the food on her tray. The hamburgers they served here certainly didn’t look very appetizing, but it was better than nothing. Still, she made a mental note to start bringing her own food. Just as soon as she learned how to cook.
She was going to be eating the cafeteria food for a long time, wasn’t she….
As Wooden worked her way to an empty seat, she passed a table occupied by several older girls in green dresses. It was clear that the one in the center was the leader of the group, based on how eagerly the others listened to what she said, and her distinctive appearance. She had wavy emerald green hair reaching her waist, which matched the color of her eyes. She wore a tight green dress like the rest in her group, and when she smiled one of her teeth looked like a tiny fang. She giggled when she looked at Wooden’s makeup.
“I didn’t know the school had hired a clown.” The other girls dutifully laughed at the joke. Wooden glared at them, but that only made them laugh harder.
For a moment, Wooden wanted to retaliate, but pushed away the impulse. They weren’t worth it. She walked past them and kept looking around, until something caught her eye.
***
“Your hair is so cool!”
Salmacis looked up from her food. It had sounded like that was directed at her, but… no, no way. She looked around, and saw a girl in pale makeup and black clothing looking at her.
“Is it naturally like that?” The girl in black said.
Salmacis blushed, and looked down. She ran her fingers through her blue hair. She’d never thought of her hair as “cool” before….
“Yes….” Salmacis managed to say.
“Wow!” The girl sat down across from her. “I’m the Wooden Girl.”
“I’m… Salmacis.”
“Even your name is cool! You’re a freshman too, right?”
Salmacis nodded.
“I haven’t been able to meet many other freshmen! Except… well….” Wooden waved at the shadows around them dismissively. “Which classes have you had so far?”
“Mr. Lowe’s English, and Ms. I-330’s history….”
“I’ve had Proxiehunter for math and Steward for theater.” She stuck out her tongue to show her opinion on the two. “I’m pretty sure Proxiehunter’s insane, and I don’t think we’re going to ever do anything in Steward’s.”
“Oh… I liked my two teachers…. Although….” She looked around, as though not wanting to be caught committing the horrible sin of speaking negative of a teacher, “I think Ms. I-330 might also be crazy. She keeps getting the chronology of things mixed up. And sometimes she refers to history with the wrong tenses, like it hasn’t happened yet, or it’s happening right now.”
Wooden laughed. “Maybe all the teachers here are crazy? The school is weird enough that I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Salmacis smiled, and as the conversation went on, started laughing as well. Then suddenly, she stopped, and forced her face to become emotionless. Two older girls bearing some resemblance to Salmacis walked up to the table. The taller had short cropped black hair, and her face was completely devoid of feeling as she inspected Salmacis and Wooden.
“Salmacis. You will eat lunch with us.” She said.
“Yes, EAT.” Salmacis said, a slight quiver beneath her attempt at monotone. Without a word to Wooden, she gathered her food and stood up.
Wooden began to talk, but then she noticed the other girl looking at her. This girl had the same familial resemblance as the others, but with long hair the color of seaweed. But it was her expression that frightened Wooden into silence: Absolutely cold, cruel eyes combined with a hungry smile.
The two older girls began to walk away, and Salmacis followed them. When she thought they weren’t looking, Salmacis quickly turned back to Wooden and shyly waved goodbye.
***
After finishing his lunch, the Cold Boy had gone to the library. The noise of the cafeteria had been a little too much, and Mr. Sigma didn’t seem to mind students coming into his library during lunch, as long as they didn’t bring any food or drinks in.
There were a few other students in the library, quietly reading or whispering to each other. There was one table that caught Cold’s attention: a girl had set up a study group, and nearly a dozen other students were gathered at the table around her. She had red hair and a pair of wings on her back. And her face… she was the most beautiful person Cold had ever seen. The other students in the study group seemed to be paying more attention to her than to the curriculum she was describing, and Cold could hardly blame them. The girl looked up, and smiled when she saw Cold looking at her. He suddenly realized that he had been staring, and turned away to hide his blush. Quickly he grabbed a book and sat down, keeping his face in the book where no one could see it.
There was another student in the library, wearing a business suit and without a face. He was in the nonfiction section, several books under his arm. He picked out another book and opened it to read as he walked to the checkout desk. When his path took him by the study group, the girl’s eyes lit up, and she spoke to him.
“Hey Slender, want to join us today?”
He didn’t even look up from the book. “I’m busy, Vision.” He walked past without even slowing down.
The girl sighed in frustration, and threw herself back into leading the study group.
The Cold Boy felt anger rising in him. How could that man have blown her off so easily? His righteous outrage made the decision for him: He was going to confront this student, age difference be damned!
But then the student came closer. He was even taller up close than Cold had thought. And the energy which he was directing towards that book in his hand was… it was almost frightening. Cold’s anger slowly fizzled away, and he stuck his face back into his own book. He wasn’t going to be the knight in shining armor this time.
***
The school’s indoor pool was kept dark, illuminated only by the blue tinged light that came from the pool itself. Ichor was the only one using the pool, easily swimming laps back and forth, her long hair appearing to not cause any difficulties.
The other two Ink sisters sat by the edge of the pool. Salmacis poked at her food, her nervousness driving away hunger.
“Our purpose at this facility is to gather knowledge.” EAT said to Salmacis. “Not to interact with the student body. Such an activity is not necessary to the fulfillment of our mission.”
“Yes, EAT.”
“You will not dine in the cafeteria any further. We will provide you with lunch, and you will consume it here.”
“Yes, EAT.”
“Further communication with other students will be only done when absolutely necessary. Otherwise, you will focus your time on the acquisition of more knowledge.”
“Yes, EAT.”
Ichor pulled herself out of the pool, water streaming off her swimsuit. “Perhaps,” Ichor said, “Salmacis was attempting to practice infiltration. By creating the superficial appearance of friendship with others, she may covertly gather intelligence, and manipulate them to further her goals.”
EAT considered this for a moment. “Was this your intention, Salmacis?”
Salmacis didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded instead.
“This is acceptable.” EAT said. “You are to resume having your lunch in the cafeteria, and interacting with these students for the purpose of infiltration and knowledge acquisition.” With that declaration, EAT stripped down to her swimsuit, and dove into the pool.
Salmacis felt a smile starting to appear on her face, but pushed the impulse down when she noticed Ichor watching her. “It certainly is fortunate that was your intention, Salmacis.” Ichor said. “Sister would have been most displeased had that not been the case. And that would have been unfortunate, would it not?”
Salmacis nodded slightly.
Ichor’s cold smile appeared. “I certainly hope that you do not give me any reason to inform Sister of any disappointment.” She moved that smile closer to Salmacis. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”
Salmacis shook her head.
“Excellent.” Ichor picked up Salmacis’s plate and began to wolf the food down. Salmacis didn’t challenge the action. The happiness she had felt for a moment was quickly draining away.
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