Private. KTHNXBAI.

[Ruckus]

ooc; Oh, one more thing. I think that the students should be brainwashed during classes. They should be absolutely convinced that weaponry is calculus.

[Low Shoulder]

OOC|| K, wanna start?

[Ruckus]

ooc; Sure. Give me just a second to chose which characters I'm using and write an intro.

[Low Shoulder]

OOC|| K I'll send mine in a min.

[Ruckus]

ooc; I made the assumption that it's a boarding school. My characters are Mallory and Shep (Neither Chloe nor Charles are important, and will probably remain that way).

Mallory Venice Oggman

It was quiet. Perfectly quiet. Mallory closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing to break this silence with one pure, crystal note. Her fingers pressed the keys, poised and ready, her chest lifted with the breath she took, she began to exhale--there was a loud thud against her door and she jumped. Instead of the C sharp she had been intending to play, she let loose a squeal and a D flat (admittedly the flattest D flat she'd ever heard). "C-come in," she said, pulling the head off her flute and shoving it a little recklessly into it's case. Another girl thrust her head into the room and grinned.

"School starts in six minutes, two seconds," she said, and slammed the door before Mallory could say 'hello' or 'goodbye' or even 'thank you for reminding me, I nearly forgot'. She didn't really like her roommate, who was noisy and obnoxious and had disabled the smoke detector in the bathroom so she could smoke without getting caught. To be completely honest with herself, Mallory had been hoping they would run out of other girls for her to be paired with. But, unfortunately, this hope was a vain hope.

She pulled off the last piece of her flute, packed it, and shoved it under her bed where she hoped it would be out of harms way if Chloe should return with a group of her terrifying, equally rambunctious, friends. Or her boyfriend. If there was one person Mallory disliked more than Chloe, it was Chloe's boyfriend, Charles. Charles was, if possible, even louder and more prone to drinking and smoking while Mallory was in the room than Chloe. Not to mention he was in her Algebra 3-4 class, and hadn't turned in a piece of homework the entire year.

Sighing, she tucked her last few supplies into the shoulder bag she carried with her and exited her room, keeping close to the wall as she exited Dorm Building A and took a deep breath of fresh campus air (which, considering that it was supposed to be fresh air, smelled alarmingly like stale cigarettes and grape soda). It was barely a two minute walk to her first class, so she loitered as much as possible before entering School Building C.

Unlike Chloe, she liked how simple it was to find each building. They were each given a letter and a title, based on where they were on campus. Even on her first day, she'd been able to make it to each class with time to spare, and that, more than anything, had made her capable of calling her father on her first night and saying, "Dad, I think I'm going to like it here."

Despite this, she had found it quite odd when her English teacher began calling the class Beginning Camouflage: How to Fit in a Foreign Country. It had only taken her a few days to realize that she was the only one who was hearing this. First, she went to the school nurse, who told her she was fine. And then she realized she could remember everything from these false classes (as all of them seemed to have some special name and taught a different subject from what she had originally thought it was supposed to teach), as well as from the 'real' classes.

She was, on the whole, quite pleased with this.

Three minutes before the bell rang, Mallory sat down at her usual desk: six down from the front, third chair in, and put her bag next to her. She smiled at a few classmates whom she knew by name, although not personally, and settled comfortably down.

Shepard ('Shep') Hamlin

"Ohhhhhh, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, come on! Oh, yes, yes, yes, show me the money! Yes! Yes! Triumph! You, my friend, owe me seven dollars," Shep said, punching the air without much thought to the controller, which jerked at the chord was pulled and nearly made the Nintendo 64 fall off it's shelf. The screen flashed blue and green, proclaiming player two winner in bold font, with a dark-haired man carrying a gun standing silently below the words 'YOU WON'. He smirked and ruffled his hair. "Sorry, man, you just don't have the talent I do."

Snorting, Charles threw the his controller to the carpeted ground and fished a five, a one, and four quarters out of his pocket to hand to place in Shep's mocking hand. "You'll pay for this someday," he said, standing up off the floor and brushing his jeans out. They took the floor in shifts: Mondays through Wednesdays, Shep got the beanbag chair. Then they switched.

Shep originally had the chair everyday, but he'd gambled and lot the privilege over a game of Super Smash Brothers, which he claimed to be the bane of his existence. He'd never really had a reason for hating Mario. He reasoned that he just hated the sound of the characters voice, always sounding so happy when he jumped and smashed poor Goomba's heads in. He stood up as well, pocketing the money, and checked the alarm clock he kept on the floor next to his bed. "Well, looks like we're only friends for another five minutes, dude," Shep said, without a hint of sadness on his voice. "I gotta split. Class." Charles nodded and sat back down on his own bed.

They had quite a few deals. One of them was that Shep was never to speak to Charles in front of his friends. 'Guys like me', Charles had said, 'don't talk to nerds like you'. Shep had shrugged and agreed without a fight. He didn't need to be friends with Charles; more than anything he was happy he didn't wake up with ice down his pants every night.

He walked to English alone, his black backpack hanging off one of his bony shoulders. He wasn't really sure why he still called it English: he knew it wasn't. He'd long since accepted the sudden, bizarre and uncalled for change in curriculum. Even if no one else knew what was going on, he liked learning how to handle a gun instead of how to accurately dissect a frog. Although knowing what was happening was a bit of a disadvantage, as the brainwashed students--he liked to call them zombies--were just good at everything. Without really having to learn.

When he messed up, the teachers would look at him critically, but move on. Once, he had almost gotten caught, he was sure of it, but thankfully he'd hit the target the next time around, and Mr. Neck just stared at him for a moment longer than the other students.

He enter the Beginning Camouflage-English room and sat down, dumping his backpack on the floor and crossing his legs under the desk. Of all the classes he took, this was his least favorite. Being forced to dress up and pretend like it was nothing. He didn't even trust himself to make jokes about it, as he'd never heard a Zombie joke in class, and he had deducted quickly that knowing what was going on wasn't generally a good thing.

[Low Shoulder]

OOC|| K I'm doing forms...can my girl charrie like your boy and my boy like your girl?

Name: Jade Lynn Farrow
Nick name: JJ
Age: 16?
Gander: Female
Crush: Shep
Other: Jake (Jacob's) twin

Name: Jacob Michael Farrow
Nick name: Jake
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Crush" Mallory
Other: Jade's twin

[Ruckus]

ooc; We'll have to see, won't we. C; I don't usually have a preset for crushes and such.

Anyways, I have serious doubt that Jade'll like Shep once she gets to know him.

[Low Shoulder]

OOC|| Jade likes a lot of people But we shall see. What about Jake?

[Ruckus]

ooc; I guess, if you'd like. I'm not going to have Mallory and Shep like them instantly, if ever. I like when the relationships start slowly and work towards wuuuuv, twu wuv. C:

[Low Shoulder]

OOC|| Me too. K wanna start?