The Suspicious Eye
Your Darling Devil
Arc One: Fall
Congratulations Students
"Pyro Arc, Ivory Goodwitch, Phoenix Rose and Jade Wukong. The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. From this day forward you will work together as team PRWI, lead by Pyro Arc."
"Olive Oobleck, Iola Sakra, Cirrus Schnee and Croc Sustrai. The four of you retrieved the black rook pieces. From this day forward you will work together as team CROC, lead by Cirrus Schee. "
"Slate Black, Cherry Caramel, Silver Jones and Ophelia Shayama. The four of you retrieved the black bishop pieces. From this day forward you will work together as team BRSS, lead by Slate Black."
"Hawke Alistair, Ebon Belladonna, Schafer Blitzen, and Sora Steele. The four of you received the white bishop pieces. From this day forward you will work together as team SEAS, lead by Schafer Blitzen."
"Valentine Adel, Onyx Belladonna, Titan Xiao Long and Summer Rose. The four of you retrieved the white knight pieces. From this day forward you will work together as team SABL, lead by Summer Rose."
He paused and looked over at the new students of the academy. Bright young faces looking as if they are ready to take on whatever comes their way. A slow intake of breath he spoke again this time his voice was sharper.
"This is just the first step into a much larger world, a much more dangerous world. Taking on the responsibility of becoming huntsmen is filled with peril and strain. It'll be your team members that give you the support to move on throughout the trials to come. This academy is for you to learn what you need to survive against the grimm, but it is the bonds that you forge with each other that will make you into true huntsmen. Don't waste this opportunity. Take everything that comes your way this upcoming year together and use it to grow stronger."
"Be alert, "the corners of his lips rose as he smiled, "this is sure to be an interesting year."
ChazGhost IG42 WoodenZebra Hibiscus Lord Potato KingofCool Brinni Dante Verren Field Marshall Black Jade
@Dirty Dan KarenAKAMint LoneSniper87
Current Location: Beacon Dorms Current Time: 8:25am |
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Ernest HemingwayHe was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff was hauled up. “I could go with you again. We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men
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