Fandom Digimon: Nonsuch Manor Academy

[Blemmigan]

🙚 NONSUCH MANOR ACADEMY FOR THE INTELLECTUALLY GIFTED 🙘
A DIGIMON RP

​

WELCOME

One day, out of the blue, you receive a letter from an elite boarding school that you've never heard of.

Nonsuch Manor Academy for the Intellectually Gifted​

Your guardian/s had never heard of it either. But the envelope contained a glossy brochure, with photographs of a beautiful manor house and extensive grounds, and plenty of photogenic teenagers in neat uniforms.
Once you looked it up, there it was. It had a website, a phone number you could ring and speak to a human, records of the house and its history of becoming a school, names of past students, awards won, lists of teachers and their qualifications and plenty more photographs.

The letter itself stated that you were being offered a full scholarship to attend and board. Your current school had sent in an application on your behalf (as one of a number of promising students), and yours had been accepted, if you so wished to attend. Due to the distance, and the school's reputation for taking promising students in from all over the world, transport would be arranged for you. Your family, too, if they wished to see you off. Uniform and books would be provided. Term dates were included, with a polite request that students remain within the school during term times without parent visits, to allow the healthy formation of new friendships and full adjustment to boarding school life.

It seemed like everything had already been taken care of, only requiring your response. And, for whatever reason, you accepted.

MEANWHILE IN THE WORLD

One month ago, there were reports of six bizarre monsters, appearing in various places all over the world. Some of these creatures were huge, some breathed fire, some darted through the air, but all appeared at the same time. A couple of those that appeared in built-up areas wrecked havoc, causing destruction to buildings while people panicked, and several recorded video of what was going on.

In one of the videos, you could clearly see a child or teenager walking calmly towards the monster, with what looked like a small animal by their side. They were holding something in their hand, and raised it up high above their head--

--and then the child, the animal and the monster vanished, as though they'd all blinked out of existence.

Millions of people all argued over what had happened. The videos were there, the damage was there, and thousands of people claimed to have seen similar events with their own eyes. Thousands more insisted that it was fake. And underneath it all was the insistence that it was a government experiment gone wrong.

Finally, a statement was released by a relatively new company, claiming that the events were a promotion for an upcoming film. They apologised for the damages, stating that the pyrotechnics or fake monsters had gotten out of control: it was meant to be a talking point, not to cause harm. The film would be delayed while the people responsible within the company were dealt with appropriately. Compensation was paid out.

For a while, it was all everyone was talking about. But once it had been picked clean to the point of being boring, the statement became boring, and the incident was forgotten for some new disaster. Some people argued against it, or claimed to have seen things that were different, but they were soon ignored, or drowned out by others saying that they had seen it too, seen the cameras and the wires and the film crew.

And besides, nobody was hurt. And no children had been reported missing. And monsters weren't real. In fact, some of them looked a lot like the ones in those video games.

OOC RUNDOWN

-Digimon are known and recognised as video game characters. It's not the most popular thing in the world, but critically they're known to be fictional.
-Over the last few months, disturbances have been registered in computers and on the internet. Bizarre web pages spontaneously appearing and vanishing. Mysterious sounds in audio files. Distortion of images and video. Glitches in programs. And, more recently, increased sightings in the world of "unidentified wild animals".
-One month ago, six digimon appeared in various places around the world, all at the same time. Each digimon was faced down by a teenager who was alongside another, partner digimon.
-Before any fighting could occur, the digimon and children suddenly vanished without a trace.
-The event was covered up, with (perhaps) surprising success. The facts were, perhaps, too bizarre to be considered true.
-Since then, the sightings and distortions seem to have stopped.
-Behind the scenes, a group known as FIREWALL (catchy) have been suppressing the digimon appearances. They were the ones who sealed the gates, banishing all the digimon (and the six children) back into the digital world. With their "barricade", they hoped to keep digimon trapped in their own world forever.
-Of course, it's not working, and like with a dam that is structurally failing, plugging the leaks ignores the pressure building up behind, until inevitably the flood comes.
-Too late, FIREWALL realised that perhaps those "chosen children" were the best way to restrain the digimon: fight them on their level and shoo them back to where they came from. Work from the inside.
-The solution? Train and manufacture their own chosen children from the most likely candidates.
-Congratulations on your scholarship to a prestigious and totally not suspicious school with no forged history whatsoever.

C H A R A C T E R S

Eliisabet Sepp & Cutemon (NoviceOfRoleplay)
Anton Kinsky Maria (Schneider) & Betamon (Theo713)
Clovis Mori Dallier & Agumon (Black) (GasMaskie)
Aster Sunniva & Labramon (Charcoal_Lilly50)
Ethan Gray & Impmon (Lucem Tenebris)
Boris Grigorievich Pechorin & Tapirmon (Oswald_C_Cobblepot)
Amber Fox & Candlemon (QuirkyAngel)

List of NPCs

 

[Blemmigan]

NoviceOfRoleplay Theo713 GasMaskie Charcoal_Lilly50 Lucem Oswald_C_Cobblepot

It begins. Let's set the scene(s).
NPC descriptions are here, should you wish to interact with them.

Professor Willoughby Unthank & Doctor Bhavita Jadhav
Professor Unthank looked down at the arriving students from a window on the top floor and beamed.

"They've made sure to arrive on time," Dr Jadhav said from beside him, referencing the tablet in her hand rather than the people down below.

"Of course they have!" boomed the professor. "They want the best start to their educational journey."

He was clearly delighted by how things were turning out, but his second-in-command found herself too hesitant to join him. "That we are entirely unable to give them," she reminded him.

Unthank waved a hand. "It hardly matters. Besides, we'll be able to teach those lucky few something far more valuable than... conjugations. Algebra? Whatever they teach them nowadays. They'll be a part of something greater, like the rest of us hope to be. I do think it's rather too late to start having doubts, Bhavita."

"I think you'll find that these doubts are hardly new," she replied, with the kind of testiness reserved for those people whose minds are already made up. The professor had been told at every step that the plan was convoluted and ridiculous and insane, and he had listened to every complaint with a smile, before continuing on anyway. And the most annoying thing about it was that he was right: it would work. There would be problems, and doubtless there were other ways that would, eventually, produce the same result, but only five months had passed for them to have some of the most viable subjects from around the world. All thanks to the Professor's "Project Delta".

It was those potential problems, however, that were worrying her. The Professor had powerful friends, rich friends, and the backing of every country frightened by the digital meltdown the world was facing, but they surely couldn't keep burying the setbacks forever. Surely someone would put a stop to his mad ideas and his cavalier attitude.

But not today: it was a Monday afternoon in early September, and term was beginning.

Doctor Lucy Bowcott & Doctor Warren Lester... and the arriving students, outside Nonsuch Manor
It was a big operation. Nonsuch Manor was used to secrecy, security, shining floodlights at any drunk locals foolish enough to wander up the estate's mile-long driveway until they sheepishly turned away. The house and grounds were strictly off-limits to anyone without several different kinds of identification and a reason for being physically present, rather than contacting FIREWALL long-distance to report in. Plenty of those who worked there knew very little about what actually went on.

Since the beginning of May, however, the place had been hurriedly overhauled. Computer banks had been moved out of sight, into new side buildings or underground, the cellars hollowed out into an extensive network of rooms and tunnels that had been an architectural nightmare. A whole new tangled system of corridors wove their way inside and underneath the main building, a network of rooms hidden behind doors reading STAFF ONLY and DANGER!, coupled with an assortment of unfriendly-looking locks and keypads. The beautiful Elizabethan halls, rooms and stairways were kept on display, converted into classrooms and dorms that had never been used before, and looked a little too pristine to someone of a suspicious mind.

The most important thing was to make it seem like nothing was truly hidden. The architecture and scenery did most of the work, particularly on a warm, cloudless September, with new students and anxious parents wandering the grounds, too busy taking in the view to ask intrusive questions. The rest was done by those playing the role of teachers or students. A young, pretty teacher smiled apologetically to a curious parent ("It's such a shame about all the renovations going on at the moment. They're currently restoring the original ceiling in the library: originally it was just structural repairs, but we found that it used to be decorated with gold leaf, and so a project has been undertaken to completely restore it. Unfortunately that does mean that part of the building is out of bounds and we've had to relocate some lessons, but it shouldn't take more than a few months to complete. Here, I can show you some photographs: it should be finished by your next visit!")

The main doors were open, and most of the students were gathered either in front of the building or in the main hallway, nervously glancing around or trying to get a head start in making friends, particularly those who had arrived without a parent or guardian. All of the new students here were genuine, though some others in school uniform were walking through the grounds or inside the house, playing the parts of older year groups.

Amongst the welcome committee were two particular figures: Dr. Bowcott laughed with parents and smiled welcomingly at students, assuring them with every fibre of her being that there was nothing to worry about, while Dr. Lester shook hands and nodded solemnly at any questions before answering, as though he had been thinking the exact same thing himself.

"The headmaster will be arriving soon," Dr. Bowcott assured a particularly inquisitive parent, "after which parents will be asked to leave, so that the students can begin orientation." She had secretly hoped that the distance to travel would have put off most of the accompanying adults, but the Professor had insisted on funding their transport, too. And now she had to answer questions she hadn't even thought about!

But she just smiled, keeping one eye out to make sure that none of the students were already wandering off. Security cameras were, as subtly as possible, watching everything that happened, but she hoped that nobody would try to snoop around. At least, not yet. Let them have at least one day of being too impressed to cause trouble.

Simon James & Gary Zielinski
Two floors underground, Gary Zielinski was drinking Cup-a-Soup while staring at the monitor.

They had eight digimon already in storage (most in stasis), and the most recent gate had been opened only that morning, to try and ease the pressure on the barrier. The last thing they needed was a barrier failure and something slipping through at this moment. Keeping digimon in stasis was bad, too- the data tended to deteriorate after too long, but he didn't want to risk any problems. Maybe he needn't have worried- the ones captured at the moment were the most well-behaved of the bunch. But it had all been leading up to the project that was only just beginning for real, and he didn't want to blow it in any way.

"Hey. Gary. Relax," said a voice from the desk opposite.

"I am relaxed."

"You're chewing on the mug. Chill."

Gary put the soup down, swiftly followed by his head on the desk. Simon shook his head. "Listen mate, it's all fine. You must've checked everything a dozen times. And besides, I'm here too. I'm not going to let you screw anything up."

"How's it looking?" he asked, head still down beside the keyboard.

"Fine. Great." Simon gestured at his own monitor. "We're getting readings off them already. It's only weak, but the digital signatures match up exactly with what we're looking for: exactly how I predicted they'd be. This might even work."

"I need to see if they match the digimon we've got in storage."

"They'll match. And if they don't, it's not like we're gonna run out of digimon. Can't stop the little buggers getting through most of the time. Besides, they only need to connect to the digivices. Like I said, I've got this. I'd say you could even pack up and go home, but I need someone around to make me feel smart."

"That'd be the day."

"Of course, I'd get a better reading of those signatures if we let them actually access the Internet here, let me analyse the digital footprint."

"No way." Gary sat up again. "No phone signal, no Internet. That was the deal. Just restricting it is too risky, so we all agreed to cut it off completely."

"And tell them the network is down? They won't like it."

"They don't have to like it, Si. They're children. They just have to do what they're told."

Simon snorted. "In case I forgot you don't have kids."

"In case I forgot you're old as hell. Just send over the data outline and I'll check it's at least halfway compatible. Then maybe I can breathe."

It was going to be fine, he told himself. He'd checked and double-checked everything. The Banisher was working overtime, holding back any digital gates for as long as he dared. Usually they opened a gate down here at least once a day, just to ease the pressure, but sometimes the coordinates glitched and a gate opened somewhere else on the grounds. He couldn't risk thattoday. They'd just have to hope that the barrier would hold.

 

[Charcoal_Lilly50]

Aster Sunniva
Aster stared out of the closest window as the vehicle that was arranged to bring to the academy pulled up. "Miss Sunniva," the driver quietly called out, breaking the girl clad in black jeans, a pastel blue sweater, and white sneakers from her thoughts as she realized the vehicle was now stopped, "We have arrived." Sure enough the posh gentleman was right. On the opposite side of the car sat the prestigious Nonsuch Manor Academy with students bustling about. A small smile formed on the girl's lips as she exited the car and moved to the trunk that popped open once the drive saw her move behind the vehicle. For the next five-ish minutes Aster removed all her luggage from it before shutting the trunk, allowing the car to drive off. With the smile still on her face the teen grabbed her bags, a large suitcase and duffle bag, then set off towards the manor.

As she got closer to the main entrance of the school Aster started to grow more and more nervous at the growing amount of people that were there. Stopping abruptly at the door while gripping both handles tightly. Breathe, just breathe, the teen thought to herself, All you have to do is find your and then you'll be away from all..... this. For the day, just for the day. Maybe. Maybe you'll have to see them at dinner. Taking a deep breath the pastel pink haired girl narrowed her eyes in, rather fear induced, determination. With one last deep breath she walked into the school.

Upon entering the building the teen was taken aback by how the interior structure was set up. Standing off to the side, out of the way most everyone else, Aster took in the sight of the walls and ceiling. "For a school.. this is all rather beautiful. I wonder if all private academies are like this," she quietly thought aloud. When her blue eyes noticed what appeared to be two teachers near the entrance greeting other students and parents. Pushing her red framed glasses back up the bridge of her nose Aster listened in a bit on what the female teacher, Dr. Bowcott, was telling some of the parents and student. I guess I'll have to wait until orientation before I find out where the dorms are, Aster thought with a sigh.

So now knowing that it'll be a while before she'll get to settle in Aster looked around for a place to sit away from any, and every, large group of people. Spotting an empty corner, a lot emptier than where she was currently standing, the girl held onto her bags and started making her way through the large crowd of people. Every now and then squeaking out and almost inaudible "Excuse me" or "Pardon me", even a few "I'm sorry" along the way. Once she made it over there Aster let out a sigh of relief as she slumped down on the floor, making sure not touch the walls given the age of the building.

 

[Theo713]

This was it. The start of a new chapter in his life. A chapter he was finally writing himself. Anton had spent the past week studying, learning, all for this moment. He didn't dedicate his time to studying course material. No, there would be plenty of time for that later. He had instead been studying others of his own age group. Learning what they wore, how they spoke, how they acted. He hoped his studying had been sufficient. He did his best to ensure he would blend in with his fellow peers, yet Anton was still a tad nervous he hadn't completely mastered what should have been a simple task. No one here would know him, and that's exactly how he wanted it. He wanted to be seen for who he was, not who he was, if that made any sense. Alright, run through it again, just to make sure Anton would think to himself, clearing his throat. “Hallo. My name is Anton Schneider.” Ok. Great. You have the basic greeting out of the way. But now what bonehead? His thought process was interrupted by the voice of his driver calling out to him in German, alerting him to the fact that they were almost at the school.

In the few minutes before his ride arrived at the entrance to the school, Anton would double and triple check over all the facts he had memorized about his fake name and life, making sure to keep them in order should any questions come up. Exiting the car as it came to a stop in front of the school, the driver would tell Anton in German that he would return later with Anton's belongings, as well as wishing Anton a good luck which in turn made Anton smile a general smile. “Danke, Alberto.” he would tell the driver before closing the door and stepping away so the car could take off, Anton turning to look again at the school. Out of one palace and in to another he thought to himself, sighing at the thought. It was a private school, he understood that. He had just hoped the school would look....more normal. Less...lavish.

There was no turning back now. Heading in to the school's main grounds behind several other still arriving students, Anton would glance around for any signs of anyone who might stand out so he knew who to avoid. He didn't come here to stand out. He came here to get away from all that. He spotted one girl moving with what appeared to be every item she owned packed in to a few suit cases and couldn't help but to smile, glad to see it seemed he wouldn't be the only awkward one here. Anton would make his way towards a woman who was currently conversing with another family, waiting until they had departed before approaching her. “Hallo, lehrer. How long will this...or e in taste eon last for?” He made sure to sound out each syllable of orientation, wishing he had taken English as his second language instead of his third. It was more difficult a language than he had realized.

 

[Oswald_C_Cobblepot]

''You will flourish there, Boris, I know it'', the old man's voice said, calmly, but with a clear dose of sorrow. ''I do not want to go. Despite that'', the young boy replied, looking coldly through the distant greyness of Moscow's skyline. Andropov's office was on the top floor of a not so large, but highly elevated building, so it gave a good look at the city. It was raining. The window was somewhat foggy and covered in raindrops. ''And I do not want you to go, my boy, but you have to. That is the only... only way you'll get out of the hell you're currently in. And this is hell, believe me'', Andropov replied. ''Hell is where you are not'', Boris replied, like a sage, laconically. ''Boris...'', he tried. ''No, Vladimir Yurievich, I will not go to a wretched academy far from you. After some years, this is the first time in my life that I do not feel alone, or, at least, not that much alone. I cannot go back to the solitude. Don't make me!'', Boris said sternly. (...) ''You really think I should go?'', Boris asked, observing the people in Bitsevsky Park, not far from his ''home''. ''I do. Not because I want to get rid of you, but because I love you... like the son I never had. I want only the best for you and I cannot provide that for you, I simply cannot... I am an old man, Boris, and you know the system we live in... it's not that different anywhere else, but it might be better. It might be better there'', Andropov replied. (...) Boris was packing his bags the day was rainy again heavy rain Please don't hate me Andropov said I don't I... (...) He wavedatme firm hugfaint smile (...) Tears (...) AirporttheplanerisingIhadnotfeltlikethissinceIlosthem ridiculousmusicitwa (...) acarattheairporttallmanhegreetedmewhy?NoddedcoldlyImiss (...) Andropov...

''We have arrived, master Boris'', the driver said as a large black car stopped in front of an Elizabethan building that was to be Nonsuch Manor. Without a single word, Boris nodded and thanked the driver, exiting the vehicle. He had little luggage, mostly filled with books, as he did not carry much clothes with him. He had a sufficient amount of money with him, left to him by his parents and he was to acquire all the necessities here, in England.

The driver drove away.

Much in contrast with his expectations, the Manor grounds were filled with students, parents and what seemed to be staff members trying to be inconspicuous, but failing miserably. He observed all of them quickly, deducing what was necessary to conclude that he should just keep to himself and march into the building. Andropov had warned him about what he should expect, but he was not expecting so many people. Giving a vaguely visible sight, he started pacing towards the main gate, which seemed to reveal an interior completely incompatible with the Elizabethan exterior; it was, obviously, redecorated and refurnished for this sole purpose, he thought to himself, both impressed by the artistic craftsmanship, and disgusted by the sheer amount of snobbish details. As he was walking, he brushed past a boy obviously speaking German, hitting him slightly with his luggage. ''Prostite'', he said quickly in Russian, only to remember, after several steps, that he was not in Russia anymore and that the boy probably didn't understand his apology. When in Rome..

He soon entered the building, which was even more crowded, but that was probably an illusion due to the closed space. He looked around only to see what seemed to be a corner with no people there. He brushed past the people, not even trying to apologise this time, like a machine marching to a predetermined location, blindly following orders. People would certainly think him rude, but he could not care less; he was here for academic purposes, not for socialising. Yet, as he arrived in the corner, he would soon determine that socialisation would probably be necessary. In the corner, there was a girl, pink-haired with glasses and violet eyes. She was down on the floor, seeming either scared or exhausted. Boris stood beside her, standing firm. He had never seen anyone like her. She was interesting to him, but he would not show it. He could not. But, she was... pretty? Beautiful? ''Prost... I apologise... for intruding your space, miss, I just needed a spot to get away from the crowd. From the entrance, this spot seemed empty; I did not see you from there. If you need help... I can... shout for someone?'', he asked, looking straight in front of him, only glancing at her quickly a couple of times.

 

[Charcoal_Lilly50]

Being away from the crowd was a nice change of space. Despite having gone to public school before coming to Nonsuch Aster still wasn't use to this many people, probably due to small class sizes. Looking over at her duffle bag the girl decided to pull her cell phone out of the side pocket that she had tucked it in before entering the car that had picked her up. After turning it on the teen was met with a bit of disappointment, no wi-fi or cell service. Well it looks like I won't be able to get a hold of them with this. But at least Abigail told me to pack writing material along with my books, she thought with a small smile. Before she could put it away Aster heard a voice speaking to her.

Freezing for a moment before slowly glancing to see who the voice belonged to. Though of course by sitting on the floor all she could see at eye-level were the poor bloke's legs. Tilting her head back traced up until finally stopping to see who the mystery legs and voice belonged to, only to be met with a side profile of a raven haired boy. From the way he spoke it wasn't hard to know that this lad was Russian. After a moment of silence passed between them before Aster nervously rose to her feet as to not be rude, and the words of her beloved caretaker echoed in her mind, One of these days Aster you're going to have to talk to someone. Even if it seems impossible. Just talk a little to them, it just might get easier over time.

"N-n-no, it's alright... I suppose," her voice was rather shaky and soft, her accent was also not as broad as most Australians, "I.. I just w-wanted away from the crowd too..." Aster's cheeks were flushed red due to being so nervousness. Silently she moved her suitcase out of the way so that Boris would have some more room to stand there near by. The girl looked passed him when she heard an other boy near the entrance talk join the small group gathered near the female teacher. His accent seemingly gave away his nationality, but his looks. Aster shuttered nervous upon seeing his height and sharp eyes. Someone like that boy might gain her silence since he seemed a bit intimidating appearance wise. When she looked back at Boris she gulped nervously as her pale blue eyes trailed down to her hand, while quietly turning to face him.

Slowly, and shakily, she started to extend it in greeting towards the shaggy haired boy that stood in front of her now. "My name is... I-it's Aster... Aster Sunniva….. I l-look forward to learning, with you," she said rather sheepishly. Gazing up at Boris, Aster wondered if she did the right thing by introducing herself. That, and if she should've left at the two of them being strangers towards one another.

 

[GasMaskie]

A click of his tongue accompanied the young man's eyes opening as he brought his gaze upwards towards the imposing stone facade of the Nonsuch Manor Academy. As he stepped forward, he removed an earbud from one ear and turned the volume down. As others passed by him with their luggage and their parents, he stood alone before the aged architecture. When he was younger, he was envious of others; he desired the same sort of typical family and loving parents that most of his peers had. The old adage 'be careful what you wish for' had never rung truer than it did now for him. The golden haired boy loosened the wristwatch he wore and rubbed his wrist as he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

The wheels of the luggage case clicked and clacked as he moved towards the building. He carried little more than a few sets of clothing and equipment for fencing and kendo. As much as he detested the latter, it seemed like another path away from that household. Recognition could only come through the pursuit of strength for him. At least, that's how he had rationalized it upon coming to England. In a place like this, where odds were that everyone was just as exceptional, anything that he wasn't already proficient in would simply fall by the wayside in the eyes of others. A big fish coming to a big pond, in other words. The teenager didn't have an eye for architecture, and simply passed through the main doors when the opportunity made itself available. He had noticed the flurry of languages being spoken as he passed by families and other new students mingling about.

Clovis popped his earbud back in as he passed by a mop-headed boy and what looked to be a shrinking violet? Or rather, wallflower? He shook his head as he decided not to dwell on it too much. In an institution like this, he was sure that he'd be able to excel in solitude, much like he did in that godforsaken country. His hands curled into a tight fist before he took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was back in Europe. Just a skip across the pond from France. Turning the music back up, he found a good place to lean up against and close his eyes. This was just another stepping stone towards freedom and retribution.

 

[Lucem]

"Thanks." As soon as Ethan shut the door of the cab, the driver took off, leaving him alone at the front of the school. Not wanting to stand around and smell the residual fumes from the exhaust pipes, he turned away from the curb and got his first good look at the school. It certainly lived up to its name. It looked more like some lord's manor than a boarding school. The size of the main building wasn't too large, but the same couldn't be said about the land that surrounded it. There was a lot of open space, filled with lush greenery that seemed to glisten under the warm sun. Even though he tried to not let his expectations be influenced by things he saw on TV, places like this were what came to mind when he thought of England. There was nothing like this back home.

Thinking about his hometown reminded him that he should give his parents a call to let them know he had arrived safely. Unfortunately, there was no service out here. He had a feeling something like that might happen, considering that they were so far out in the country. However, what he hadn't expected was the lack of Internet. Seriously? Were they having trouble setting up the network or something?

While not having W-Fi was annoying, there was a much bigger problem. Without being able to make calls or send messages online, there was no way of contacting anyone. Right now, his cell phone was just an expensive flashlight. He didn't want to contribute to the belief that his generation couldn't live without their gadgets, but wasn't this kind of a red flag? How were they expected to talk to their parents? Write letters? Along with the school's appearance, that would really make it feel like living in England during the Middle Ages.

Scratching the back of his neck, Ethan decided to put that issue to the side for now. It wasn't like he could do anything about it. This wasn't an emergency situation either. His parents were usually pretty bad at noticing things while they were busy with work, so there most likely wouldn't be a problem if he didn't message them right away. The school would probably have things up and running in a couple days, so he could just do it then. If not, they'd probably think he died in a plane crash or something.

Grabbing the headphones hanging around his neck, Ethan placed the soft cushions around his ears. Thankfully, he actually downloaded music on his phone instead of just streaming it all the time. Even without the Internet, he still had a way to kill time. He could also filter out the loud noise this way. Right now, there were a lot of people talking. Teachers, parents, and students were all holding conversations, some of them in languages he didn't understand. Even though he hadn't heard of it until he received his invitation, the school seemed to have a pretty far reach. A collection of geniuses from all across the globe. Hopefully, there wouldn't be any friction caused by kids trying to decide who was top geek around here.

Adjusting the strap of his backpack, Ethan walked through the main doors. There wasn't much to do until orientation started, so he'd just have to find the most attractive corner in this place and wait there until someone made an announcement. He wasn't the type to try making friends with every person he saw. He was content with standing off to the side by himself and blending into the sea of people. That's how things had always been for him. Even if he was in a new school with new people, thousands of miles away from home, he didn't expect that to change.

 

[Oswald_C_Cobblepot]

It was a strange moment for him. He had never talked to girls before. Come to think of it, he had never talked to anyone beside Andropov and his teachers. He never cared much for socialising after being sent to the institution. He never cared much for people, himself included. So, it was quite queer for him to not only talk to the what seemed to be an Australian girl, but also offer her assistance. Which she did not need, as it turned out. Durak, he reprimanded himself strongly. The girl was obviously just scared, or anxious, but that was all the same to him. He knew the feeling quite well, more than well, actually.

The room was small. One bed, one window, overlooking one major street. The social worker was gentle with him, albeit still distant. She knew of the tragedy and she felt sorry for the boy, but he was still only a number. One amongst the hundreds of thousands. Boris Pechorin was #29919030. B93, as Zamyatin would probably have named me. She gave a few quick information I did not listen I did not care CarecareALONE Someone ALONE DEATH ALONE will come soon ScrEAMscreamaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (...) My name is Vladimir Yurievich Andropov. You must be Boris Grigorievitch? A smile, a handshake. Handshake? Hand shake handshakeshakehand...

The girl standing up made him snap out of another one of his grey memories. He noticed her standing up, but he wasn't looking at her. He hadn't dared to. He was standing in that corner, staring in front of him as a statue. He heard the girl introduce herself. She had a soft voice. It was lovely. It reminded him of... home. Aster Sunniva. That was her name. Curious, as she was, as she would be. But lovely, it was... lovely. He didn't move, he didn't even reply until his right eye, the blue one (he had the cure or blessing, depending on how you looked at it, of having heterochromia - his right eye was blue, his left one was brown), noticed, peripherally, that Aster had her shaking hand stretched out to him. He quickly turned, as if scared, but he was in reality surprised. She offered him her hand?

Losing some of his colour, Boris looked at his shaking right palm. His long, thin fingers were shaking like leaves. He looked at her hand and then into her eyes. Not a moment passed and he felt her hand, her soft skin, in his cold, anemic paw. Her hand was warm. It was a pleasant sensation. Something he had not felt in ages. He shook it and then held onto it, as if he was holding something very dear to him, something he had lost and now regained, but did not want to lose again. It was probably only for a moment, but to Boris, it seemed like an eternity. Durak!, he reprimanded himself again, realising that he might have prolonged it just too much.

He quickly withdrew his hand put into his pocket. He also turned his look away from Aster, shaking rather nervously. ''I am Boris... that is, my name is Boris. Boris Grigorievitch Pechorin. But you can just call me Boris'', he paused, ''I am aware that you have different standards when addressing people than we do'', he recited the end of his sentence, gulping afterwards. DURAK!, he yelled at himself. He could not bare to look at the girl, whom he thought was probably scared or freaked out senseless.

Charcoal_Lilly50

 

[Charcoal_Lilly50]

When the girl watched Boris quickly turn away from her after offering a handshake the feeling of humiliation started to set in. Aster never really was good at talking, let alone interacting, with other people; especially her peers. Looking away the girl frowned, I'm sorry Abigail... but I knew this would be a loss cause, the crushing thought lingering in her head. As Aster was just about to withdraw her hand something grabbed it, gaining her attention. Glancing down she saw that the boy had turned back to face her, his hand holding hers. Tilting her head back the girl was met with Boris's blue and brown eyes, "Crikey," she whispered as she was taken a back by the rather not so common condition he had. But she was a little more surprised to feel his hand tremble in hers. At least I'm not the only one who is nervous.

Though after the normal amount of time spent on a handshake was proceeded Aster's cheeks gained a rosy hue as the boy was now awkwardly holding her hand. Before she could mention that he could let go it seemed that Boris came to that conclusion as well, releasing her hand. Thus allowing her to let it fall back to her side. But Aster continued to blush nervously even after the fact he was not holding on anymore.

"B-Boris, it's-," before she could finish speaking the boy quickly cut her off, and made her flinch, by making a comment on how she had gone about addressing him. Aster could hear her heart pounding in her ears as her anxiety grew. Gulping the teen bit her lip and quickly averted her gaze from him to the tile floor under their feet. "I'm sorry," Aster nervously squeaked, "I don't know your country's proper greeting.... a-and I was taught that handshakes were... well.. that they were the best way to introduce one's self no matter where you might be.... but it's better than saying g'day… or the kiss greeting that some countries do..." The girl's pale blue orbs glanced back at Boris for a moment before they were once again fixated on the floor, but this time it was because she was slightly bowing, "I-I-i'm s-sorry," scared that she might have already started off on the wrong foot at this school, "I-I didn't mean to offend you or do anything wrong, honest."

Oswald_C_Cobblepot

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Arms folded, Amber glanced away to observe the interior of Nonsuch Manor while her father shook hands with Dr. Lester. She’d half expected the acceptance letter to be a fake. Her father probably did too. An elite boarding school with a rich history that no one’s ever heard about? It didn’t make any sense. All the background details seemed legit. The school had a website. A number to call. All questions were answered in a succinct and professional manner.

However, no one she spoke to seemed to know anything about the school (except for the returning students and teachers). She’d lived in England most of her life and she’d never heard of the school until the letter came.

Yet her teachers had sent an application for her to this mysterious school without her knowing? Without ever mentioning it to her? Scoffing internally, Amber turned her attention back to her father who gazed at her worriedly.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Sweetie?”

“Too late to do anything about it now,” Amber waved a hand lazily over the luggage before once more folding her arms. “We’re already here,”

“It’s never too late,”

“You worry too much dad,” Amber smiled reassuringly to her father. “If anything happens, I’ll call you.”

The phones didn’t work out here. Amber had checked earlier. However, she saw no point in further worrying her father. If it was a grand kidnapping plot, they paid an awful lot for lil ‘ol her to live in a posh manor. Perhaps if she were less of a cynical person, she might’ve believed it was a simple rich school like every other simple-minded, idealistic foreigner that was lollygagging around, waiting for the orientation to start. All of them were supposed to be geniuses?

And speaking of simple-minded foreigner…

Lehrer?

German?

The pretty boy certainly looked to be European, though she couldn’t say exactly what country he was from. Germany was the likely guess. “The orientation hasn’t started yet.” Gray eyes flickered over her father. “It probably won’t until Dad leaves.”

He got the hint. “Remember to contact me, Dove.”

Amber rolled her eyes as her old man finally departed Nonsuch Manor after giving her a quick hug. Being the only daughter of an overprotective father had its advantages and disadvantages.

Theo713

 

[Theo713]

Anton turned, looking when a voice that wasn't the instructor's answering his question. His eyes fell on a girl who couldn't be more than a year or two older or younger than himself, Anton couldn't be sure. Unlike the other students he had seen, this one appeared to be...well, if her profile picture was to be believed, she looked very much like one of those Ruffians one of his butlers had tried to warn him of. Anton would simply smile and nod, offering his fellow student “Danke...erm...Thank you.” He would let father and daughter have their moment to say their goodbyes, knowing he would want the same time should his parents have been able to come see him off, before speaking again. “This school, is it very...how you say...large, yes? Is this your first time here?” he wanted to ask more about the school, but he didn't want to bombard this stranger with his endless stream of questions. “In truth, I had not heard of this school until I was axecepted” which he thought was strange, given how large and old this school seemed to be. A place as large as this surely would have had a long and grand history, yet he couldn't find much of anything about it after he learned of its existence.

QuirkyAngel

 

[Blemmigan]

A whistle-stop tour before we finally get underway.
NoviceOfRoleplay Theo713 GasMaskie Charcoal_Lilly50 Lucem Oswald_C_Cobblepot QuirkyAngel

The front of the school - The Auditorium - The Dorms - The Lunch Hall
Most of the students were slowly making their way into the building, either as a nervous desire to begin or a less nervous desire to put their bags down and rest.

Dr. Lucy Bowcott had managed to convince several of the parents outside to leave already, swooping in from guardian to guardian to gradually explain that, to help with settling in, the welcome speech is for the students only, which was pointed out in the accompanying materials, and she very much hoped that they had enjoyed seeing the grounds and the architecture.

She set off again, honing in on a particularly stubborn-looking parent, while Dr. Warren Lester gently placed a hand on another staff member's shoulder and muttered, "I believe that's all of them."

He glanced up at the top floor window, but even before he could see it was empty he heard a familiar voice booming from inside the building. Quickly, he hurried after the students, in time to see the Professor holding open the doors to the mock auditorium, gesticulating wildly for the teenagers to follow.

"This way!"

It was less of an auditorium and more of an imposing room, just off the main atrium. There was, after all, no stage, a high ceiling that played havoc with acoustics, and solemn rows of chairs, counted out perfectly for each student and spaced just far enough apart for those with a sensible amount of luggage. But there was also a line of large windows on one side of the room through with the afternoon light streamed prettily, and a number of paintings of regal figures posing uncomfortably with family and finery.

"Do sit! I shan't be keeping any of you too long," the Professor told them, smiling broadly. "Just a few words.

"Welcome! Welcome to Nonsuch Manor. I'm delighted to see that you all made it safely! I'm sure you're aware what a fine opportunity it is to study in a place as beautiful and as historic as this old ruin, but might I just add precisely how privileged we are to have you here. My name is Professor Unthank: I am the Academy's headmaster, and personally responsible for every invitation.

"Every one of you, I have seen something in that I believe will grow into something great. And I can assure you, that there are students here in this room that will make history!"

He paused, as though expecting some kind of applause after such a short speech, but didn't seem to notice when none came.

"Doctor Jadhav, I believe you have something more to add?"

The more solemn woman beside him nodded, checking her tablet for a final time. "As some of you may have noticed, the building is undergoing repairs," she began, not bothering with any more words of welcome. "For your own safety, and our own peace of mind, I would ask that you respect all warning signs or locked doors you encounter. Disobedience in this regard will be punished harshly, due to the potential for serious injury. However, the rest of the building is perfectly safe, and there is no need for concern.

"You may also have noticed that the school's internet network is currently down: once that is accessible again, you will be notified, but it should not be necessary for you to use it for the time being. We have an intranet system that is up and running for use in contacting teachers or accessing materials.

"For the first few weeks, your timetable will be as follows: breakfast from half seven to eight, lessons in the morning until twelve, lunch until one, and orienteering, teambuilding or sports activities until supper at five. You are then free to work or relax until curfew at ten o'clock. That's all for now."

A smile would probably have helped the delivery, but she was more concerned with the children hearing the information than she was about her demeanour.

The Professor clapped a few times, and took centre stage again, waving at the two teachers who had just arrived. "And here are the heads of house for the first year students. Dr. Bowcott for the girls' house, and Dr. Lester for the boys': you've been sitting still long enough, and I'm sure you want to put your bags away. We'll meet up again for lunch!"

The two dormitory houses were similar, but at opposite ends of the building, in true boarding school anti-canoodling style. Both had a common area, with tables, sofas, a television and notice board (already covered in printed posters and reminders), and branching off from them a tangle of individual bedrooms and a couple of shared bathrooms. The fittings were new, but the rooms themselves were obviously old, the floor sloped or corridors twisting in places to fit around the ceilings of the grander rooms below.

Rooms were assigned and bags dumped, and the students were asked to change into their sports kits: uniforms were waiting for each of them, made from the measurements that had been requested with every acceptance letter. For lessons, black trousers or skirts with a matching jumper over a pale blue, button-up shirt, with a tie and dark grey blazer. In short, the traditional identifier of a public school student, for better or for worse. At least the sports kits were more generic: shirt and shorts, with a less optimistic waterproof jacket and trousers, both navy, for typical English weather. Both the sports shirt and the everyday blazer had the school logo on the left-hand side, which was more accurately the school name below a crest showing generic symbols of knowledge and learning: an hourglass, a strand of DNA, a quill, a small equilateral triangle. The logo was embroidered, but slightly padded, although one would have to be really be paying attention to wonder if there was anything more to it.

Once changed, the new arrivals were taken to a late lunch, back on the ground floor. The time was a good excuse as to where any other students were, although sooner or later someone would notice that the older teenagers who had been wandering around before had since disappeared. At least with food (in the manor's old dining room, almost certainly built for entertaining important guests) and the chance to talk with each other once more, there was a chance that they wouldn't notice for a while yet.

Dr. Bowcott picked at her food, too distracted to do more than push it around the plate, even though it was a great deal better than what they'd all been eating before this project began. She had no doubt that the Professor was behind the increased meal budget, using the attempt at a roast dinner to further create the atmosphere of an English boarding skill. She wondered how much of it was based off of his own school days.

It was half past two. At three o'clock, they'd begin the first exercise.

Beneath the school
Simon had sent Gary the initial readings: they were more guesswork than actual data, but as he had promised they matched up almost perfectly with what he had been hoping for. None of the adult test subjects had shown the potential to resonate with the digimon like this, but here they had dozens of viable subjects. All they'd had to do was... this insane amount of pretence.

"Oh, hello," Simon announced, suddenly alert again. "They're putting the uniforms on already. I'm getting coordinates."

"You already know where they are, they're in the house," his colleague answered, with substantially less enthusiasm. The security team had been sending periodic updates from the camera feeds inside and around the house. Everyone was paranoid that they might be the one to lose track of a student: there was a small team disguised as groundskeepers while the kids had been exploring outside and the cameras couldn't reach, but luckily none of them had gone far. Nobody wanted to be the reason any of this went wrong, that a subject got somewhere they shouldn't, or went missing entirely.

"The only reason you're not impressed is because you weren't listening properly when I told you about the system we've got. It's in the uniforms, activated by body heat. Only basic, but not only can it keep track of their locations short-range, it can monitor any digital readings close-up, paint a picture over time of how it develops, check which of them are best-suited. Especially once they come in close contact with the creatures themselves."

"You can call them 'digimon'," Gary said.

"What?"

"The 'creatures'. Don't pretend that they're anything more or less than digimon. Monsters created from data. Like in the... like the games. If you keep pretending it's not ridiculous, you're going to be staggered when you finally have to face it."

There was a brief pause, broken by a snort. "Sure. You're the digizoo keeper, you'd know better than me. Hey, shouldn't you be checking on 'em?"

"No," Gary answered, even as he pulled up the window for the twentieth time that hour. The digimon were, still, all fine. Their signals muted slightly from being in stasis—unable to run more than the most basic processes to keep them alive, and more importantly unable to try and break out or influence machinery—but otherwise fine. Being kept like that for too long might damage the data permanently, though, and... well, none of them had been able to cause that much trouble. And the parents had already left. Any digimon that had been a problem (too strong, or too unpredictable) had been dispatched pretty quickly, leaving just a few left. And if they deteriorated so much that they couldn't be used any more, well... that might delay things.

He started the process to slowly wake the digimon again, and stood up from his desk. "Anyway I'm just gonna go and... go and... check on them."

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Neither did I

“Yes, I am.”

That was the only response she gave to the foreigner whose name she still didn’t know. An answer to his question, nothing more nothing less. If he was waiting for her to make small talk, he’d be waiting for a long time. Amber didn’t do socializing. There wasn’t time for it anyway. As soon as the final parent left, the teachers led them into an auditorium where the headmaster gave a short speech that was a bit too generic to sound inspiring.

Amber tapped her foot impatiently.

Dull.

She’d been hoping the mystery of the school, and the inconsistencies she noticed, meant there was more to Nonsuch Academy than meets the eye. Was it just a simple preppy boarding school? Breakfast at 7:30? Curfew at 10? Amber sighed. If she’d known how restrictive a boarding school would be she wouldn’t have agreed.

No. She knew. She’d just been hoping for more.

Hands slipped into her pocket as she followed Dr. Bowcott to the girls’ dormitories. She spoke to no one—the scowl on her face warding others away. Didn’t even pay attention to which girl shared a dorm with her. Amber simply dropped her things, changed into the new sports uniform, and made her way down to where other students seemed to be having a late lunch.

There were noticeably less students present than before.

Her eyebrow rose. Did they all already finish eating?

Finding an empty table, Amber set her plate down and started to dine. Nonsuch Academy had good food if nothing else. Elite food. Elite school. Beautiful grounds full of elite, gifted students. It was all so perfect—the very picture of an elite English boarding school—that it made her sick.

Too perfect, in fact.

Stabbing her broccoli with a fork, Amber’s eyes flickered over to Dr. Bowcott. To the other students present. Then to the cuckoo clock on the far wall. No one was looking at her. Yet the feeling that she was being watched hadn’t gone away. Perhaps she was imagining things. Perhaps she wasn’t. However, the feeling irritated her nonetheless.

Theo713

 

[Lucem]

Aside from a few minor annoyances involving the school's Internet access, orientation had been going smoothly. It wasn't too different from what he was used to, following the usual speeches and explanations one would expect. Still, there were a few things that caught his attention. It was nothing major, but he had been getting weird vibes from the faculty. Something about them just felt off. The headmaster seemed awkward, and the woman that accompanied him sorta reminded him of a brick wall with the way she sounded. They acted a little strange, but that could just be because it was the first day. Maybe they'd start behaving differently once everyone was settled.

In addition to the staff, there were other things that made this orientation different. This was a boarding school, so of course there were dorms. While there was nothing wrong with them, the rooms also seemed weird. It was obvious they were old, reminding him of the Middle Ages once again. For all the pride the people around here seemed to have in the school, he would've thought the rooms would be touched up some more. A lot of things here seemed unfinished, old, or hazardous. It was almost like this was a rush job. Well, it wasn't a big deal. As long as his bed didn't go through the floorboards while he was sleeping, he didn't care too much about the living conditions.

After a tour of the dorms and a change of clothes, they were brought downstairs for an afternoon meal. Roast wasn't something exclusive to the upper class, but he wasn't used to eating food like this very often. He wasn't used to eating with so many people either. At home, he'd usually just cook for himself. If he made more portions, they'd go straight to the fridge or microwave so someone could grab it later. His family rarely ate together these days.

Walking through the crowd of students, Ethan took the first empty seat he could find, set right across from a female student. It might've been the way she stabbed at her food like it insulted her mother, or the fact that she was glaring at everything that entered her line of sight, but he got the impression that she wasn't feeling very chipper. As dangerous as it was to sit next to an irritated girl holding a sharp object, he was more focused on finishing his food before lunch was over. Besides, he didn't think she'd suddenly turn on him unless he said something stupid. Thankfully, he was a master of minding his own business. If he couldn't do that, then he'd probably end up like that poor broccoli.

While cutting the roast, Ethan took a quick look around the area. Compared to the amount he saw earlier, there didn't seem to be many students now. It was probably because the older students had left to deal with other things, leaving all the newcomers to their orientation business. They'd likely show up again when lessons were over.

He still had to get through two hours of physical activities, but the first day of school was practically over. Lessons wouldn't start until tomorrow, but he was already getting a feel for the daily schedule. Aside from the uniforms and preppy environment, it didn't seem too different from his old routine.

QuirkyAngel

 

[Theo713]

“Aaah....I...see” hmm. His first interaction with another student hadn't gone quite as well as he had hoped. Was it him? Something he said? Did his breath stink? Had he been too direct? Not direct enough? Just as Anton was going to ask, a voice called out for them. “This way!” Seemed it was time for orientation to begin. Returning his gaze to where the stranger had been, Anton would see that she had already left to go where they were being instructed. 0 for 1 so far. It had been a long time since he had been 0 for 1. It was...a breath of fresh air. With a faint smile Anton would follow the rest of the students towards where ever it was they were being led, taking a seat next when informed to. As the headmaster spoke, Anton took notice of something. Something that others might have thought inconsequential, but something that caught his attention nonetheless. Other than the Headmaster himself, every other adult introduced to them had the title of Doctor, rather than Professor or Instructor. He realized this was an elite boarding school, but to be taught by doctors and not professors? That seemed....off. To Anton anyway. Maybe he was overthinking things.

As the short orientation was wrapping up and they were given their Dorm Doctors to follow Anton would do just that, walking slower through the male common room to take it in. He would be sharing this area with the other males of the school for the next few years. It was a concept he would have to get used to if he wanted to survive here. Anton would make his way to the room that he had been assigned, giving it a once over before changing out of his regular attire and in to that of the sports kit as instructed, tugging on it once it was on properly to straighten out any wrinkles there might have been. He had to remain presentable at all times. It was something he had grown accustomed to believing. His personal affects would be arriving sometime before curfew, and when they did he would sort them. But for now he had to rejoin his fellow first years.

Leaving the room and heading for the ground floor to have the late lunch with the other first years, Anton would again feel as if he had simply traded in living in one palace for another when he saw how large the room they would be dining in was. The size of the room made it seem as if there were fewer students than there had been before, Anton shaking the feeling with ease as he entered and took another look around. He spotted the female from before whose name he hadn't caught and decided it might be better to leave her alone for now, not wanting to seem clingy or needy on their first day at the school. Fixing himself a plate of food, Anton would take a seat at a table and begin to survey the room in silence, taking smaller bites as he ate.

 

[Blemmigan]

Anna Sarkar (CS)

Her father had insisted on driving Anna to her new school. Doubtless her mother would have come too, if she hadn't been busy working, but it seemed as though the most fitting parent was accompanying her. He had, after all, been the one to read the acceptance letter and decide, just like that that it was the best option for her. That the best option including leaving her old school without warning, abandoning her friends, sending her halfway across the country where there was absolutely no way that she could sneak out or avoid lessons.

She rode in the front passenger seat, slouching further and further down until her father snapped at her to sit up straight. He'd tried to launch into a rehearsed speech, but gave up when he realised that his youngest daughter was determined to ignore him.

The school had given the option of transporting her themselves, which neither she nor her parents questioned: the distance wasn't too great, after all. Anna however knew why her father had decided to make the journey himself: he didn't trust her. Maybe he was right to: maybe this would be the day she finally rebelled properly, took her luggage and spending money and ran away to... where? She didn't know anyone outside of her circle of friends, had never travelled anywhere by herself further than an hours' train ride from home.

The only place she wanted to be was home, and that was precisely where she couldn't go.

"Look at this!" her father was saying as they drove through a security checkpoint at the start. "Are these all the school grounds?" He sounded sincerely impressed. Or just surprised, which was annoying. Shouldn't he have looked into this properly, before sending her here?

Anna wanted to be impressed, too: she kept sneaking glances at the scenery outside, from behind her eyelashes. She could see herself walking through the swathes of grass, between the old trees, following forgotten pathways, taking photographs of secret places and seeing them in ways that nobody had for a hundred years...

But instead she shrugged, and said nothing. As soon as her father had parked the car, she opened the door and got out, starting to unload her luggage from the boot in a powerful, sulky silence.

"Do you have your camera?"

"Yes," she answered. So now he cared? She half-hoped that her attitude might make him feel guilty enough to drive her home again. "I have everything with me I could ever want. So I'll go inside now."

"Let me walk you inside, bitiya."

"It's fine. Bye. Don't be late home."

She walked off without looking back, luggage trailing behind her, and only started to feel regret when she heard the door close and the engine start again. Then she reminded herself that this was the first time he had been so jovial and kind to her in a long time, and it was only because she was doing as she had been told. So instead she started her new school life with a face like thunder, and contented herself with the fact that she could always ring him later, once her parents had been given time to properly feel bad about it.

-

The frustration that had driven her soon dissipated, leaving Anna feeling... lost. She didn't know anybody here, and all of them seemed to have their own insecurities and issues with being here. The whole place seemed... on edge. And it was too quiet, especially here in the dining hall. Maybe it was because they were eating later than they normally would, or just that she wasn't used to an entire year group being this small a size. Then again, she didn't know what boarding school was supposed to be like. Perhaps this was all perfectly normal.

She'd thought about ringing her parents, but she wasn't getting any signal, and like the stern-faced teacher had later told them, there was no way for her to access the internet either. Well, fine. Let her parents worry that they couldn't get through to her phone. It served them right. She was more upset that she wouldn't be able to upload any photographs she took. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long before everything was back up, but for now she left her camera in her allocated room with everything else.

And anyway, everyone here was in the same boat, right? She'd lost all of her friends in one fell swoop (they could talk online once she got a connection, sure, but she wouldn't really be part of the same life any more), but everyone else was new, too. Most of them would want to make friends, or at least to not be alone.

Anna bit her lip and sat down. There was plenty of space, enough for every student to sit a healthy distance apart from each other, but instead she sat across from the first person sitting by themselves she saw. Only once she'd put her tray down did she notice it was a boy, which made her hesitate, but it was a bit too late to jump ship by then. Not just a boy, but a serous-looking one who was scrupulously-dressed in the sports uniform they'd been given. It looked like he was taking the whole boarding-school thing seriously. He was also in the middle of his lunch.

"Hi," she said, more confidently than she felt. "I'm Anna."

Theo713

 

[Charcoal_Lilly50]

Before Boris could say anything a loud voice, which caused Aster to cover her ears, called for the students to gather in the auditorium. Glancing toward the now open doors Aster quickly started picking up her duffle bag and grabbing her suitcase, "I-I'm sorry Boris," she stuttered softly, "Maybe I'll see you in class.." With that the girl slipped into the crowd with her belongings, following everyone else into the auditorium. Once inside Aster was taken aback a bit by the paintings and windows, "Crikey.." she gasped. After she managed to snapped back to reality the girl looked for an empty seat. Spotting one on the end near the windows she smiled softly to herself and walked over. Seating herself with her items beside her Aster silently listened to the headmaster as he gave his orientation speech.

So there's no internet, no service, and the building is still under intense repairs... How peculiar, Aster thought. When Doctor Jadhav started speaking of the schedule for the first couple weeks of everyone being there, Aster started typing the information in on her phone in the notes app. That way she could plug it into her calendar later along with make a couple alarms. After Professor Unthank took the stage again to dismiss everyone, Aster stood up and grabbed her things once again. Looking over at Dr. Bowcott the pink haired girl took a moment to memorize what her dorm head looked like.

Feeling somewhat confident she headed towards the girls dormitory. A smile on her face as she came across her dorm room, Thank God we all get our own rooms. She thought to herself happily as she entered. Closing the door behind her before setting her stuff down on the floor. Aster raised her brow a bit as she realized just how dated the room was, but it was better than having to share with another person. Noticing the uniforms on the bed she remembered that after lunch there was going to be activities shortly after.

Now changed in the sport kit Aster quickly looked in duffle bag side pocket and managed to find a hair tie, which she promptly slipped onto her wrist. Walking out of her room the girl headed back down towards the dining hall where all the students were gathering for lunch. Once there Aster grabbed her lunch tray and looked around for a moment to see if she could spot an empty table, or at least one that didn't have so many people. When she saw one the teen made her way over and sat down one the very end. That way if someone did choose to sit with her there'd be enough space between them.

As she began to eat Aster noticed the lack of students in the room. Strange... the older students don't seem to be here, she thought to herself. It did bother her a bit, but she eventually shrugged it off thinking that they ate during orientation. With that Aster went back to eating her lunch.


Metions: Oswald_C_Cobblepot

 

[Oswald_C_Cobblepot]

The Russian boy wanted to reply, but his calculated, preparatory internal monologue was cut short by the staff members, introducing themselves and wishing them a warm welcome to the Academy. Despite the quirkiness of the person who seemed to be their Headmaster, it was just a regular welcoming speech, without revealing much of why they were here. Certainly, they were chosen, but why? Why them? He did not know about the others, but he knew that the Russian institutions back home made absolutely no effort to test him or discover his skills. If he had any special skills beside his mind. So, how did they chose him? Why? Who gave his data? Why him? Why was he among these selected people? They do not seem that different. Some more sociable, more quirky, but not different. Not special.

As the strange headmaster finished his speech along with the colleagues, the students were directed toward their dormitories. Single rooms? Strange... He had forgotten what it meant to live alone in a room, to have privacy, to enjoy solitude. Certainly, he had spend a lot of solitary hours in libraries and Andropov was usually kind enough to allow him to spend as much time in his office as was possible, but it was not the same. He never thought he'd be able to experience that kind of privacy ever again. He shivered.

The girl, Aster, made him snap out of his thoughts. He had forgotten, for a moment, where he was and her sweet, albeit soft voice almost made him flinch. He then realised he had not managed to reply to her, which was, despite everything, absolutely rude. ''No, I am sorry, miss... I got lost in thought'', he said quickly, before adding: ''I... hope so!''. He threw a brief smile to her as she was leaving, he himself picking up his bag and leaving towards the sleeping quarters.

He moved silently, like a shadow, evading the other students, not many of whom were actually there, as best as he could before finally arriving to the door of his chamber. 309. A good combination of numbers. As he entered, he noticed a very simple, yet unbelievably kitsch room furnished like a luxury hotel suite and not a sleeping chamber for a foreign student in England. He was skeptical, but what could he do? He walked quietly, put his luggage next to the bed and walked to the window. He had a good look at the school fields and what seemed to be a nearby forest. It reminded him of Bitsevsky Park, although it was visibly smaller. He sighed. He was hungry.

***​

He changed into fresh clothes - a dark blue coat, white shirt, jeans and brown All-Stars - and exited his room. After wandering the what seemed to be abandoned halls This is strange, it seems like a nightmare no ones here what happened of the Academy, he soon found the cafeteria. He grabbed a piece of bread, some ham and cheese and a glass of orange juice and looked around. His eyes met a familiar face.

Charcoal_Lilly50

 

[GasMaskie]

Mundane. Oh, so very mundane. Thoughts that echoed out and resounded within his head over and over again as he followed the crowd as it convened and split through out the mind-numbingly dull process of introducing students to the school and their living quarters for the next few years. Was this the cost of escaping that Eastern hellhole? A life of dullness and barely-there familiarity? As he put on the sports kit as instructed, he looked around the empty room. He had forgotten what home was like - would he really have to endure the pain of returning to an dark and lonely room. He bit his lip as he tossed his equipment and single case of luggage onto the bed now. The young man made a mental note to check the room for any bugs or surveillence equipment. His 'family' had been especially sneaky with how they had monitored him during his time with them - perhaps they were paranoid that he'd try something that could jeopardize their societal status.

He shook his head - that was in the past now. At the very least, a solitary life here meant that he could go about honing his talents like those old, fabled ascetics. The French boy thought of several luminaries who did little to ingratiate society to them or held particularly close relationships with others... He could do the same. Sacrificing his social life for his ambitions was worth it in his opinion. His thoughts came to an abrupt halt once he had received his meal for the day. The new student narrowed his eyes as he slowly meandered through the dining room.

There were two things that caught his attention - the first was the sudden decrease of students. Even if he didn't bother committing any faces to memory, he was certain that there were far less students actually eating here right now. The second was far more pressing, however. Even with the seemingly decreased amount of students, all the tables as far as the eye could see were occupied with at least two or three people now. It simply couldn't be helped - he had taken his time in his dorm room getting it ready and making slight inspections. With a sigh, he circled the dining room before ultimately deciding on the least dissatisfactory of his choices.

He settled on a table with an unremarkable looking boy and a... rather aggressive looking girl. English punk, probably. If anything, he could simply attach himself to her like a remora and use her intimidating and hostile persona to keep people away. As for the boy who reminded him of those non-player characters in RPGs... there wasn't really anything he could think of, honestly. The young man immediately pulled the chair out and took a seat without another word. Though, when he quietly began to eat... something crossed his mind.

Silence isn't golden when there are people around. It's just uncomfortable.

"...Clovis. Your names?' His own accent was nearly inaudible with his trained tongue. The young boy made no attempt at a smile as he attempted to cut the air with his voice.His gaze alternated between the two, wondering who would speak up first. Or who would act first. Maybe he'd just get a glare from the girl. His gaze lingered on her briefly. If she was as violent as she looked, he'd be at a disadvantage across the table. Maybe he could pull the other guy in front of him if she went for the throat with his fork.

( Lucem QuirkyAngel )

 

[Lucem]

Halfway through his fifth bite of roast, Ethan noticed a newcomer taking a seat at the table. While he was having a great time chatting it up with the girl across from him, he wasn't opposed to more company. Whether it was one person or two, it wouldn't make much of a difference. Well, that was his first thought. Things quickly changed when the blond boy threw a curveball by actually talking. It was a change of pace from the silent glares and vegetable stabbing that had graced this lunch date so far, but the fact that this guy actually spoke up wasn't the unusual part. His choice of words was the real point of interest.

That was certainly one way to break the ice. Straight to the point with none of the fluff. The way he phrased the question made it sound more like a demand for answers, almost like it came from some random noble in a game. Clovis was a French name, so maybe he was dealing with some member of royalty that gave weird greetings. His stone-like expression didn't exactly help his delivery. Well, he wasn't gonna judge him based on how he introduced himself. Ethan wasn't grinning ear to ear either, so that wouldn't be very fair.

"Ethan." Clovis kept things short, so he did the same. No need to give a long-winded and dramatic response to a simple question, especially when someone else was waiting to answer. If she decided to answer. She may not take too well to how he phrased things.

If his preconceived notions about her being an easily annoyed stabber turned out to be true, then the blond's question could be the trigger that was needed to finally set off the bomb. If that short, slightly odd greeting was truly enough to analyze this person's personality, he could end up being oil to this possibly nonexistent fire. Worst-case scenario, the girl chose to switch from broccoli to people. If that happened, she'd probably go for Clovis and he could find another place to sit while the poor guy was getting forked. Best-case scenario, none of these hypotheticals born from boredom happened and he didn't have to get up.

GasMaskie
QuirkyAngel

 

[Charcoal_Lilly50]

Pausing during her meal Aster set her utensils down before running her hands through her medium length, pale pink locks. Moving it all back and holding it for a moment as she started tying it up with the hair tie she hand found before coming downstairs. With her hair now tied back the girl smiled softy, "Much better," she mumbled to herself. Pick up her fork and knife again Aster began to eat the roast of her plate. Taking small cuts out of it to eat as to make sure there wouldn't be too much in her mouth when she started eating it. It was rather good, different than what Abigail would make back at home. So I guess this is what the English like to eat for some of their meals, she pondered while gazing down at her plate, They really are into the finer things. Placing her fork on the table Aster snagged her napkin, wiping the corners of her mouth with it before setting it down near the fork.

A sigh escaped the girl's lips as she stared down at her lap. This new school would take a good amount of adjusting before she ever got use to it. But perhaps after a couple of days, and some letters from her parents, would be all she needs to feel right at home in this school. Aster smiled softly to herself as she picked up her glass of water, taking a sip to help rehydrate her from the earlier trip.

When she set the glass back down Aster gazed around the room once more. At one table she notice the sharp featured boy from earlier sitting down with a girl that Aster couldn't remember seeing prior to that moment. She even noticed a different boy that had passed her during the drop off, he was seated with a rather annoyed looking girl and equally uninterested boy. How am I ever going to feel comfortable learning with all these people, she thought a bit depressingly. Still sitting at her table alone, and enjoying it a bit still. Though as her pale blue eyes scanned the room a bit more she noticed a familiar face. Boris. From what she was able to tell by the direction he was looking in he might have spotted her as well, or someone else he might have met on the way to his room. Aster gave a timid smile and equally nervous wave to him.

She knew that eventually someone would end up sitting at the table with her, and that she'd see Boris again. But she honestly didn't expect seeing him again so soon. Especially after thinking that she screwed up earlier before the assembly. As she bit her lip and tore her gaze from the boy, unsure if she should invite him to sit with her. Then once again Abigail's encouraging words rang in her head. So taking a deep breath Aster looked back towards Boris, and pointed at the chair across from her. A silent invitation for him to sit with her.

Oswald_C_Cobblepot

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Amber’s eyes flickered up when the first boy took a seat across from her, but returned her attention to her food, bringing the broccoli to her mouth, when he seemed content to mind his own business. The second boy didn’t though; He introduced himself then demanded that they do the same. Sticking her fork through the scallop she’d been poking at (after she finished with the broccoli), Amber studied the blonde boy for a moment, a raised brow at his forwardness, before shrugging and following Ethan’s reply.

“Amber.”

Weird. Usually her general attitude, her ‘aura of disinterest’ or so her dad called it, did well to drive normal people away. Amber had never really been the friendly sort. She wasn’t in the best mood either, a fact that likely reflected on her face. Yet two students had casually stopped at her table. Had she lost her edge or were the kids at her new school not normal? Could they not read the mood or did they simply not care?

Amber took a breath. It wasn’t their fault for her irritation. If anything, the cuckoo clock was what she wanted to punch.

“What do you guys think about this school?”

A simple question since conversation had already been started and she had no reason to shut it down. Amber wanted to gauge the opinion of her soon-to-be classmates. See whether they saw the oddities she did, so as to confirm whether it truly existed or if it was all in her head. A byproduct of all the video games she’d played.

Lifting the fork with the scallop, Amber bit, chewed, and swallowed while silently assessing Clovis and Ethan. She always had an easier time talking with boys rather than girls growing up, though it had less to do with biological differences and more to do with cultural ones. It wasn’t as if she disliked company. Just annoyingly, fake ones.

Lucem
GasMaskie

 

[Theo713]

So was that the case? Were they lab rats just let loose in to their new testing facilities? Anton shook his head. That didn't make any sense. But then why were all the professors Doctors? Was there truly such a thing has having a doctorate in Algebra? What a sad, boring life that must be. And if they were lab rats, what were the being tested on? Or more importantly, what was being tested on them?? So lost in thought, Anton almost jumped when someone spoke to him, Anton again shaking his head before giving the voice who was still speaking his attention. Anna. He had caught her name. That was good. Names were good. Clearing his throat, Anton would grin that confident grin he was known for back home and offer Anna a nod in greeting, following the gesture with “Hallo Anna. My name is Anton.” Yeah, that wasn't rehearsed at all. Normally he would have offered her to sit with him, but it seemed she already had. Also normally he would have stood as she approached to show some respect. And he would have, had he not been so deep in thought. He had to not let that happen again. A thought occurred to him, Anton taking another bite of lunch before asking “Forgive me, I am new to new to zis country. Is it....common for leh..Instructors to carry the title of Doctor?”

Blemmigan