POP! Panic Shuffle!

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After making her way towards the apparent commotion erupting in the midst of Lahea's café, Chris stood unmoved as she finally realised the extent of the situation. Staring blankly at the scene while continually sweatdropping, she watched her friend struggle against two boys who were apparently trying to restrain her, albeit not very successfully, from attacking a third boy who was on the ground, his cheek all busted and red.

It had happened again, the scene was all too familiar, well, too much for her liking. Heaving a sigh, the pigtailed girl strode over to the fallen boy and inquired as to what he was doing, to which he responded in short pathetic breaths; "S-She attacked me! Out of nowhere! Is she mental?!"

"Mental?" the captive girl exclaimed, while fighting against the two boys who were struggling to restrain her. "You want mental? Tina-chii! Show em what you got!"

The pigtailed girl facepalmed at her friend's threat, pissed off at the fact that her friend had just called her "Tina-chii", a nickname she didn't exactly care for, as well as the fact that the Samurai wannabe had also just called her mental. Turning huffily around, the pigtailed heiress grabbed her scantily clad friend by the collar, drew her right up close to her face so that their heads butted, while also releasing her from her restraints, who in which fell to the ground, quite relieved.

"I told you to NOT call me "Tina-chii", you know I don't care for that," she started, furrowing her brow as she grinded her words through gritted teeth, "and don't call me mental either, unlike you, I actually have a reputation to keep, got it?"

"Ehhh? Fine, whatever..." the brunette replied with a pout, swatting the girl's grip away before whipping out her bamboo sword and pointing it directly at the fallen boy's nose, "anyway, this bastard started it! Trying to buy me lunch, the nerve of this punk! And don't try to act all innocent either, there are witnesses!"

Silence dominated the outside café. The dining students who had been these witnesses to the incident, stared blankly at the confession of the girl. Chris, who had put up with Plum's irrational behaviour before, hung her head, another sigh escaping her lips. Somehow, the brunette always seemed to find another way to surprise her, it was actually quite remarkable. Her level of stupidity however, never seemed to change.

"Plum, let me say this so that you'll understand," Chris started again, but in a much calmer yet icy tone. "You are undoubtedly the most BAKA person I have ever met. Now if you're done flashing yourself and beating up this chump, I suppose you have no reason to be hanging around here anymore, neh? And you…" she then stated, pointing at the boy with the bruised cheek, "if you think you can score with a chick by simply treating her to lunch, I'll tell you now that you won't be getting any, anytime soon. Oh, and before you start running to the teachers with your tail between your legs and start rambling to them about what just happened, I'd at least toughen up a bit, cause I have no doubt in my mind that Plum here can beat you and anyone else in this school into a pulp, including the faculty. So do us a favour and piss off, m'kay?"

To add a little insult to injury, the moe-ly dressed heiress flashed the boys a small smile as if everything had resolved itself quite smoothly, before waving them off as they retreated back onto Armon soil. It was then that Plum siddled up onto her back, where she hung her arms and head over the girl's shoulders, depite being much heavier and taller, and with a cheeky expression plastered across her face.

"Ya know Tina-kun, you talk pretty tough for a chick, but inside you're a pretty sweet lass to be looking out for me aren't ya, aren't ya?" the Samurai teen teased, rubbing her cheek playfully against the other girl's.

"Listen you...I only did it because you were making such a ruckus on Lahea turf," Chris shot back, gutting her friend in the stomach with her elbow as she pulled away to face the brunette, "our school has a reputation y'know, and so do I, so I'm not gonna have you disgracing us in public, or worse, in front of these low-graders from Armon, d'ya understand?"

"Ehh...it's all the same to me," Plum replied snootily as she scrunched her nose rand squinted her eyes, a common habit she adopted to avoid Chris' piercing eye contact for whenever she got scolded, "but you know me, I can't back down from a challenge, it's dishonourable."

"You idiot...he wasn't challenging you, he was just shouting you lunch."

"Thought you said he was hitting on me?"

"He was, but he was also looking for a way to get into your robe..." the heiress sighed, shaking her head in disbelief, "haah...it's exhausting being with you, y'know?"

At that, Plum flashed the girl a bright grin as she wrapped an arm around her neck before dragging her away from the scene, ignoring the calls from the cafe's manager, who had just found out what was going on and was more than quite upset.

Of course, wherever Plum went, chaos followed, so keeping the teen Samurai under control was one of Chris' ever important jobs. She was a hassle, yes, and also a huge pain in the ass to clean up after too, but her services were invaluable. Plum was a tank. She was a member of every sporting club available in school and was easily one of the school's best athletes. This wasn't so much of an issue for the heiress, cause she didn't mind having one of her friends being better than her in such a trivial thing as sports, and since the brunette wasn't exactly the brightest bulb in the bunch, she didn't have to worry about the being opposed academically either. The only real flaw to being associated with the brash, half naked Samurai, was the fact that she was one of the most attractive girls in the Academy, a role which Chris tried very hard in maintaining. Of course, she never told her friend this, but deep down, it always frustrated her.

Regardless, the incident had passed, and they only had a few hours left before orientation was over, meaning anymore goofing off would result in a rather uneventful year for them, which was something they wouldn't have, especially since it was their last year. Informing Plum that sign ups for clubs were soon closing, Chris parted ways with her bunk mate from last year and started to head back towards the girls' dormitory.

She had yet to locate and settle within her quarters, which was rather uncharacteristically slack of her to forget, so finding her new dorm was her next objective, and after putting up with Plum for a year, she was quite confident that whoever her new room mate was, would be a pushover. Retracing her steps from earlier in the morning, Chris ascended to the second floor where the majority of the girls' dorms were located.

Striding casually down the first hall, she acknowledged many of the younger girls who were exploring the building, with a fake smile and a cheerful wave, before spitting on ground in disgust as she turned the corner and disappeared from sight. Looking down the now quite secluded corridor that lined the south side of the complex, she noticed a single figure sitting next to one of the larger rooms used for accomodating the seniors and whoever else was lucky enough to be bunking with them.

"And who might you be?" the pigtailed heiress asked with a cute yet devilish smile. "And why are you sitting here in front of my room?"
 
The dorm sucked. It really did. In the health department, at least. It was like a hotel room, clean in appearance but in actuality it was one of the most disgusting and filthy you could go. This was Fabian's view, anyway. Good thing he knew he was going to revamp it as soon as his new "pal" left. ​

Fabian paid more attention to these details than what "blackie" was saying.
"...Go to the cafe or something."

"Huh?" Fabian questioned, just noticing that the other kid was trying converse. "You want to go to the cafe?" Fabian figured he was repeating what Gigantor said. "Sure, what ever. Let me get changed." They say you your cloths tell a lot about your origin. Living on the Olympia Peninsula in upper state Washington, Fabian was used to freezing cold and cloudless days. So, of course, that is why he was dressed in a parka and corduroys, instead of shorts and kacki shorts like everyone else.

He undid his pants. Fabian knew he should take more cation about who he dressed in front of, especially in front of someone he had just met. Some day a person would take offense and he would be sorry, still until that day came he won't give a rats ass. It's kind of like how a porn star can have people watch them do porn-ish stuff.

​
He dug through his suitcase, which mainly contained floral patterned bathing suits and colorless tank tops. "Perfect!" Fabian said in excitement. He had found his favorite pair of swimming trunks. It was blue and pink with diagonal strips. He slid them over his jet black briefs with a smile of proudness.


"My name is Fabian. Let's go."
((You can describe the walk there.))
 
(Short post, sorry)

Jamal awaited Fabian's answer as the sophomore simply stared back at him.

"Huh? You want to go to the Café? Sure, what ever. Let me get changed."

"Changed?" Jamal wondered, seeing nothing wrong with Fabian's current attire.

Then suddenly, the blonde-haired youth sped past Jamal and opened up his suitcase. Jamal continued his confused look as Fabian began to open his suitcase. To Jamal's surprise— and disgust— Fabian unbuttoned his pants and slid them right off, revealing his jet-black briefs. The two had just met, and Fabian had already trusted him enough to get undressed in his face! OR maybe it was just that the teen was used to getting undressed in front of others... whatever it was, Jamal wasn't okay with it. He pretended to cover his eyes with his arm, but still peaked to see what Fabian was going to put on.

"Perfect!" the German student shouted with glee. Jamal looked over to see the boy carrying a pair of swimming trunks out of his suitcase. Instead of watching Fabian finish getting dressed, Jamal glanced inside the suitcase to see what else Fabian wore. Without much surprise, he saw that his roommate had brought many colorful bathing suits and tank tops.

"Is there even a beach around here?" he thought to himself.

"My name is Fabian, by the way. Let's go." Jamal looked up once again and saw Fabian wearing the blue and pink swimming trunks he had pulled out of his suitcase. That was it. Jamal could be seen with a kid like this. It'd ruin his reputation before he could even get it started.

"Um... on second thought, our hour of free time is almost up. I think I'll just unpack and take a quick nap or something. Sorry for making you get changed."
 
Edit- Brad is normal... no more bad stuff... ulp.

OOC: 9Genetic Engineering FTW!!!!- Brad's Mom does own a biotech company after all- Brad can breathe underwater... I guess I've taken spot of inhuman freak...0


"Well, that is it's for fun. I'm spent. I guess I'll go swim..." Brad thought to himself an hour later. He was bored- nothing new on his forums, nothing good in online games, and he was tired of his other "videos". So he left the room, and instructed Security to accept any person saying that they were lodging in 13. Brad meandered out of the dorm, and to the pool, it was tranquil, The guard was a brawny man, white, and when Brad asked if he could swim, the man said sure. Brad was good at swimming for a multitude of reasons- lifetime of swimming, living near the sea. Brad went into the locker rooms near the pool, got in his suit, put on his black goggles, and jumped in. He fell into the water with a SPLOOSH and began to swim laps continuously.

45 MINUTES LATER


Brad got out of the pool, and redressed. He was tired, so he went back to his room. Still no roomie. He got a Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper 4-Liter out of his fridge, and poured himself a few glasses. He was relaxed- he had gotten his work out. He also had found out, through gossip, that the Intellectual Society was easy- just reading, watching TV- but news. Brad didn't mind. Brad had not brought a TV because he thought it was illegal- he would have to ask a superior, he surmised. Brad was still puzzled (and elated)- where in the hell of hypothetical God was his roomie????
 
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"Uhh Dean... we've got plenty of time to talk since we, um, well, live together. How bout we just head back to the dorms and call it a day? I stopped off and grabbed marshmallows and chocolate chips to snack on, waddya say?" At this, Heath stood, depositing the remains of his sandwich in one of the trash bins. Dean stood; throwing away the paper his sandwich had come wrapped in. Before he responded to his friend, he pushed the final bite of his meal into his mouth with his index finger.

"Hell yeah, Heath!" He brought his hand up behind Heath's head, ruffling his blonde hair. It was no wonder he refrained from combing his hair--it would just end up messed up by nightfall anyway, what with the number of times Dean ran his fingers through it. "You always manage to pull through for me, don't you?" His expression turned to shock as Heath spoke once more.

"Hey Dean..." Heath said, pausing a moment as he phrased the uncomfortably uncharacteristic question in his mind. "What do you think? With all this stuff going on with the school merging, should we actually try and find real girlfriends? Instead of just messin around all the time?" Dean chuckled softly.

"You're kidding, right?" He brought his fingers to his forehead, lightly running them through his thick, ebony bangs. "Look at us, Heath! We're the two most attractive guys at Academy. Why should we be limited to just one girl?" He shrugged. "You do what you want, man. I think it'd be a big mistake. We've got a good thing goin'."

Upon their arrival back in the dorm, Dean instantly sat at the foot of Heath's bed, though not before grabbing his guitar and strumming it lightly. He sat with his back against the wooden bedpost suspending his bed above his roommate's, one leg dangling off the bed, the other outstretched, reaching to the middle of Heath's bed.

"Here it is, dude!" he exclaimed, following his sentence with a dramatic chord. "Home sweet home for the rest of the year!" A grin graced Dean's face. "And…we're on the first floor, so no stair-climbing or waiting for the elevator." With that, he struck a few more dramatic chords before looking to his friend and roommate, the same foolish grin plastered onto his face.

----------------​

"Um…I…I grew up in Brest, but we moved to Paris a few years ago." Alina smiled at her roommate. It was a soft smile, not one particularly enthused, but kind nonetheless. "Well…if you insist on doing chores, perhaps we should split the duty up?" She tilted her head slightly to the side. "After all, I couldn't possibly allow you to do everything. That would be horribly rude of me!" Her face lit up at the mention of music club. "You play piano?" she asked, a twinge of enthusiasm shining through in her otherwise rigidly polite tone. "I…well, I used to play before we moved. It would be…fun to start back up!"

Placing the rose on the dresser, Alina followed Corinne as she exited the room. The gym in which they ended up was, well, huge. Throngs of people entered to examine the activities. Alina felt rather congested in here. It was like…one of those mosh pit things she had seen on TV. A small shudder ran down her spine. The last thing she wanted was to be crushed by a stampede of humans. The blonde watched as her roommate joined her friends--two females and one male. Feeling rather out of place, she remained towards the back of the pack, allowing them to get reacquainted. She busied herself with the music booth, penciling her name in the next space on the members list. Her thoughts were interrupted by a female voice.

"Oh, so who's your friend? She your roommate?"

It wasn't hard for Alina to figure they were referring to her. Instantly, she turned, just in time for Corrine to introduce her. The girls were Miki and Karil, and the boy…he was Rémi, Corinne's brother.

"Er... um... hey!" He stuttered.

"H-Hello," she managed, cheeks flushing. Lowering her head, she grasped both sides of her skirt in her small hands, drawing the fabric out sideways. Extending one foot beyond the other, she bent her knees outwards, lowering her head and shoulders forward before righting her body. "I-It's very nice to meet you." Looking to the two girls, she quickly added; "all of you." Alina's attention was diverted back to Rémi momentarily. Flashing him a small smile, she continued. "You must be Miss Corinne's twin. You look very much alike."
 
OOC: Crappy post ftw!

Well, looks like we've found common ground. Corinne thought to herself after she learned that her new roommate lived in Paris AND was a piano player. That would make future conversation so much easier. She didn't comment on splitting the chores, to be quite frankly, Corinne intended to do them all anyways. It was nice to see she was enthusiastic, though. She wasn't anything like Miki, which might make things more relaxing. It would be a completely different. The meeting of friends seemed to be going fine, as well. Alina had introduced herself to the others, and had recieved an interesting response from her brother, let alone acting a little strange herself. Rémi, usually the type of person to be ignorant to most people, had actually said something to her roommate. Not to mention he didn't know what to say at first. He ALWAYS knew what to say. So, all signs pointed to one thing. Rémi was actually intrigued by someone.

"She looks like some troublesome brat to me." Miki rudely commented after noticing this as well. The curtsy was enough to send the tomboyish girl into the willingness to depart from the rest of the group, and so she did. Rémi ignored the girl's comment and departure. Her short fuse was the particular reason they had broken up in the first place.

Karil and Corinne, in the meantime, sweatdropped. "Please excuse her attitude!" Karil scrambled to apologize for her roommate as she bowed rapidly. "She's very... uhm... vocal!" It was funny, she couldn't think a better term to use.

When Alina proceeded to smile at Rémi, he responded in kind with a more awkward smile. She then proceeded with her observation that he really looked like his sister. Now, the problem was trying to identify if she was using it complimentary or insultingly. He had grown up being made fun of for looking like his sister, so it really was difficult to tell sometimes. But, by the tone of Alina's voice, it wasn't a hostile comment, so he responded. "Yeah, I guess we do..." He struggled for a moment with a topic, not sure what to say. "Um... If you need a tour of the Armon campus at any point, I could probably show you around." Corinne sweatdropped. THAT was the best he could come up with? Well, well. He had only just met her, and he was already asking her out... sort of. Had something changed in her brother that she had yet to notice.

After glancing at her watch, Karil made an important announcement to the others. "Guys, our free hour is almost up. We should probably be heading off to wherever we're planning on going now."

"Okay, see yas." Rémi said as he began to wave his hand in the air, turning his back at the same time. "I'm going back to my dorm to finish unpacking."

"And I've got to go find Miki before she breaks something in my dorm!" Karil said, in a very scatterbrained manner as she ran off behind the boy to the gym's exit.

"Shall we go then?" Corinne asked Alina, giving a warm smile before turning for the exit. It wasn't long after that they arrived at their dorm room. Gesturing towards the top bunk, Corinne offered her bunk to the younger girl. "I threw all of my things on the bottom bunk, but if you'd like the bottom, it's fine." She also threw in another question, simply out of curiosity. "What did you think of my brother? He's pretty lazy, but he's good at a lot of things, though you wouldn't think it by the way he presents himself..."

---

Back at his dorm, Rémi had just finished placing his sheets on the top bunk in which he would be residing for the next year, while unpacking his other things soon after. Having nothing better to do afterwards, he climbed back up to his bed and layed himself down on his back so that he was staring up at the cieling. That girl... she was cute. And there was something about her that caught his attention, yet he hadn't figured out what yet...
 
Oh please. You call that crap? Mine post easily bests yours in the art of crappiness.

Brad was sitting, playing Civ IV, his American Civilization currently trying to take the Holy Roman Capital of Aachen, when suddenly... a loud noise occured. His roommate, pitch black in color, with a blonde afro and blue eyes, lanky and slim, with bulging muscles, wearing golden necklaces, sunglasses, a white tanktop and a backward baseball cap, black in hue, upon his head, burst into the room.
"Yo. Whaddup, dawg?" the kid said, in a calm, monotonous tone.
"Nothing much kid. Your bed is there. My crap is blocking the window, and takes up that wall, and the wall with my bed. I'll leave you to your wall. Don't bother me- I don't talk a lot. This computer is mine, and mine alone." Brad said coldly.
"Aight. What's that robot thing on the door?" replied the kid calmly as he set his things down. A man, obviously a senior, helped him bring in his things. A small desk, light brown in color, and a small computer were installed on his wall. Then, the senior promptly left. Brad swiveled the chair, to face the boy.
"Well... that is security. I'll register you in the system. Computer, register this man's DNA, please." said Brad calmly. A red light scanned the boy. His DNA was registered.
"Now, what is your name, kid?" Brad said coldly, a cross look emblazoned across his golden face.
"I am Xavier Moreau." said the kid in response, with a tone pathetically trying to imitate Brad's frozen demeanor.
"Alright. You're registered. Now leave me to my computer-generated genocide." said Brad, in a tone even colder than the ones before.. Xavier gave Brad a look of disgust and a feeling of "WTF???" emanated from the ebony boy. Brad just hunched over, coordinating his computer pixels into a highly evil battle plan- Aachen was his. Xavier just left- to explore, he yelled. Brad then looked through the forms he left on his nightstand- Xavier's was simpler- a cloth over a glass surface attached to a metal pole. Xavier had signed up to try out for football, basketball, and baseball- athlete, eh? Brad was a bit peeved- he had an idiotic jock for a roommate. Not that Brad wasn't athletic- he had auditioned for swimming.

Later, Xavier got back, and set up his bed. A simple white sheet, and a blanket- nothing like Brad's regal appearing bed.
"You know kid, just because I'm poorer than you doesn't mean you have to treat me like crap." Xaiver said. Brad noticed Xavier looked deep in thought. Brad quickly responded.
"My cold tone and lack of socialization are given to every one of my equal peers. Teachers get monotonous courtesy. i treat everyone to a nice helping of cold glares, biting tones, and cynicism. I know you must be incensed- oh, this kid is racist, or he thinks he is above me because he is rich- but no. I am not kid. Don't mess with me- hell has no rage like me pissed off. Besides, why should I socialize- biting tones help me avoid the 'treasured' ideals of social interaction. Alienation is a great safeguard to blackmail- letting someone know you, other than family, leads to bad things" explained Brad. Brad has anger, and cynicism in his voice. Xavier looked sheepish- his rash anger had been rebuffed by Brad's biting tones. Xavier turned away, and went to sleep.
"Well, I've alienated one kid- science only knows how many to go." Brad thought. On his computer, his tanks had taken Aachen and the good ports. Brad then ended the war, saved his game, and went to desktop. Brad then reclined, and smiled happily- he had already avoided a relationship with the brawny kid living with him- looks like he would not be bothered much this year.
 
ooc; Okay, no Luce IC. Just don't have time for it tonight. xD;

ic;


First through second period was "homeroom" for everyone. It varied from classroom to classroom, but before the days of Academy, there were only set things for Armon or Lahea to do during homeroom. Lahea would practice tea ceremony or flower arrangements, proper posture, random tidbits that would be studied further come the rest of the day. Armon students would partake in business lectures, learn to be silent when others are speaking, or maybe strike up a debate. Leberecht peered curiously at his schedule. Would there be girls in their debate now? Would he have to learn the proper way to serve tea? Sighing, he folded his paper without a single sound, pocketing the paper. A light sleeper, Leberecht had woken at the first ray of light that hit his eyes. He'd gotten good at being practically silent while getting ready in the mornings, because dorm mates weren't always thrilled when you woke them up at the crack of dawn. Adjusting his crooked olive tie as best as he could in the mirror of the bathroom, Leberecht smoothed out his black blazer. There was nothing to do on the morning of the first day of school. His daily schedule often consisted of school during the day, track during the evenings, showering right after track, and going to bed early. If he had time before his unnaturally early bedtime, he might start his homework, but homework was usually done in the mornings for the young track-star. Running his comb through his hair one more time and sighing, Leberecht double checked everything. Hair, smooth and not a single strand out of place. Check. Skin, no blemishes, no break-outs. Check. Uniform, ironed and fitted. Check. Shoes… would be checked later. He took a deep breath. Leberecht's breathing in the mornings was never really even. He was always too nervous that something might go wrong and ruin his perfect score of having surpassed Dietrich in everything. He bent his knees, before standing up straight again. Track try-outs wouldn't be too horrible. He glanced at his silver watch. Well. He'd so far spent an entire hour in the bathroom checking and re-checking his appearance.

He didn't want to go out into the room. He'd start pacing if he did, and that would wake Rémi. If he left, the closing door would surely wake him as well. And even if he did leave, the dorm doors weren't even open yet. Where could he go? Cooking a lunch for himself would be out of the question. Eating at the Cafeteria was the way one got acquainted with new people, the way one could catch up with old friends. Leberecht had always wished that the bathrooms were bigger in size. It'd be less loud if he paced in the bathroom, if only there was room.

Shaking his head, Leberecht took another deep breath, before walking out of the bathroom as silently as he could manage. The smallest sound of the bathroom door bumping shut before he let the knob turn into place caused the overly anxious teen to flinch. He'd gotten so accustomed to the silence. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Leberecht scrapped the exhausted look off of his face, revealing a small smile and a pleasant gaze before turning around to face the room. He had a few choices. He could collect his books very slowly to save noise. He could pick up a book and read. He could sketch out a 'To-Do' list, or a schedule for the day. Leberecht could safely say that he was anxious to see whether the new addition of girls would disturb his academic and athletic life. Nothing about his own ability to excel at things. He might have to put in a little extra work regarding stocks and marketing, but he was confident about everything else. He picked up the stack of books on his desk and organized them into two piles: The ones he would need today, and the ones he wouldn't. The stack of books he'd need made their way into his black messenger bag that doubled as a laptop bag, the school issued laptop already situated in the back pocket. The ones that he didn't need found themselves placed between two marble slabs that Leberecht had used as book ends since freshman year. They were in excellent condition though, as was everything else the German native owned. He had to exceed his sibling in this aspect as well. Perhaps he'd consider joining an intellectual club this year. Chess, maybe? The silence would be a nice change in pace, and Rémi had expressed an interest in it. Still, it would mostly likely get in the way of track…

Two more hours until school started. Leberecht was tempted to bang his head down on his desk. But he didn't, fearing that the noise would awaken his roommate, and not only that, but it would also show the easily frustrated side of him that he had so carefully hidden for the past two years. He opted to read through the new book issued to all boys.

Generals.

Leberecht was quite sure that the burning smell that had reached his nostrils last night was the smell of these books, obviously issued to appease the Head Mistress of Lahea's Ladies Finishing School, being burnt while the more extreme boys against the merge roasted marshmallows over its remnants. The book detailed on sitting posture, eye contact, listening, and manners. The basics. Leberecht skimmed the table of contents. What was he, a barbarian? He knew fully well how to eat, speak, and live with manners in mind. But the only thing that really caught Leberecht's attention as a change in pace was expectations. Before, most teachers hadn't really cared about whether the students slouched a little in their seats during lectures. Those things lasted hours, after all. But now they wanted us to sit there in proper posture? Leberecht had cared very little for the merging earlier, when he'd received the notification at home.

Now, he wasn't so sure that his acting skills could keep him pleasant with an aching back for three hours straight.
 
"You're kidding, right?"

Dean answered Heath in the fashion which he had anticipated. If there was anything that seemed to annoy Heath about Dean at any time, it was his ability to make any situation seem like its nothing big.

"Look at us, Heath! We're the two most attractive guys at Academy. Why should we be limited to just one girl?" He shrugged. "You do what you want, man. I think it'd be a big mistake. We've got a good thing goin'."

"ya... i guess you're right" he responded with a solemn tone, obviously still engrossed in thought over his proposed change in life style. He didn't know himself why this would suddenly plague his mind, there was nothing to even prompt it. He sighed heavily as he walked, dragging his feet slowly as he watched the ground travel under his feet.

Before he knew it, Heath was walking into his dorm room, led by Dean.

"Here it is, dude!" he exclaimed. "Home sweet home for the rest of the year!"

Heath inspected the room as Dean talked. Same old stuff, same arrangement as last year, nothing had changed, not even the place where Dean set up to sit and play his guitar. Even though the bottom bunk was technically Heath's Dean seemed to spend more time on it than Heath did, but he didn't mind, he was used to doing everything with Dean. As Dean stretched a leg across the bed, Heath walked over to his luggage, reaching into a backpack that appeared to be for food, but upon unzipping it, revealed its contents to be at least a dozen bags of marshmallows and chocolate chips, the mutual favorite snack of Heath and Dean. Heath grabbed a couple bags and stepped over Dean's leg, plopping into the bed next to him and setting the bags between them. Heath tore open both bags, pulling out a handful of chocolate chips and mixing in a few marshmallows, and dropping them into his mouth, creating a thick chocolately mush that muffled his speech.

"...*rumpf*yup...ome schveet ome" He finally responded through a mouthful of chocolate and marshmallow. He leaned back staring at the bottom of the top bunk as he drifted into thought, awaiting the next day and the classes to come.
 
OOC: OMG. I ACTUALLY SAVED IT ON NOTEPAD. THIS IS A TRUE MIRACLE ;O;

Illya squeezed the pile of lace in her hands in order to channel her oncoming anger. First of all, she had a very fowl mouth; where in the world was this girl brought up? She must not be of her caliber. If she was, she must be one of those 'rebellious teen' things. The girl began to proceed in prodding at more of her things with that ugly yellow nail polish. Illya's eye twitched. This girl. She must be full of unclean, disgusting, filthy bacteria. And she was touching her stuff. Oh goodness, this wasn't sanitary at all. After the girl had finished her very brutish introduction, Illya gave a deep breath and began to formulate her own introduction in the most steady voice she could.

"My name is Illyabera Jannet Evanguard. Please do not touch my things-" As this statement was being said, she proceeded towards her bed to and gathered the pile of lace that had recently been pointed out, "If you touch my things, then I will also mess with your things, and I can't say that they'll end up what they were to begin with." She paused so that her dormmate could absorb this crucial information. "Also, if you're going to be my dormmate, could you at least act like you're at Lachea's? If you haven't noticed, this is (or used to be at least) a Ladies Finishing School. As in, refined...there's a lot you need to improve on." This said, Illya was beginning to feel less emotional. The pile of lace she had collected was now piling up in her arms over her face. Did she really bring this much? Peering over the lace heap, she addressed Luce again.

"By the way, I like things clean. We won't get anywhere if we through things about again. Especially other people's things. Oh, and I'd like to clean this place at the end of the day. So if anything of yours is lying around that you don't want cleaned, I'd either put it away or throw it out. Because if it's-" -the pile was beginning to fall over as Illya leaned to the side to catch it- "out, and I don't think it's worth anything, I'm going to throw it away myself. I also advise you to take showers if you don't already." In record time, the cleaning guidelines were now laid down. Now, it was time to do something about this soiled lace that had been touched by unknown hands. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take this pile to the laundry room. Then I'm going to come back, get ready for school, and review my schedule. Now that you know what I'm doing, it shouldn't be a hassle for you to work your way around my schedule. Anyway, Ты меня достал~ I'll be back soon!" With a light smirk, Illya prodded the door open with her foot and left the dorm. As much as she hated her new dormmate, it could be something worth her amusement.
 
Tch. What-ever. Yesterday had been such a ridiculo- gag.

Luce averted her eyes from the pink lace and made a beeline for the bathroom. Her shower took about ten minutes flat, and she didn't even bother to blowdry her hair. She toweled the blonde strands off, threw a handful of rainbow colored clips into her duffle bag along with her uniform and a towel, threw on a baseball jersey, a pair of stonewashed jean capri's, and shouldered her bag before exiting the bathroom. Once safely away from the steamy bathroom, as Luce enjoyed a searing hot shower in the morning, and a dreadfully cold one in the afternoon, she picked up her red metal Mizuno bat, pulled on a white beaten baseball cap, and headed out the dorm. Baseball tryouts were that morning, and she wasn't about to miss the chance to show up those smelly guys. Finding her way to the baseball diamond, she peered around at all the other tryouts. The trackfield was filled with soccer hopefuls, devoid of any track stars. Track was in the afternoon, because soccer would take up the morning slot. Five minutes till. Luce dropped her dufflebag and leaned on her bat, watching the soccer tryouts. Ugh. She raised an eyebrow at the girls running around. They were a disgrace to the name of sports. Tempted to shout out, 'Go back to cheerleading', Luce considered the comment seriously. They obviously weren't there for soccer. Probably just to ogle at boys.

"Your pheromones are showing!" Luce taunted, earning a series of scandalized looks from the girls. Pulling her baseball hat off in salute, Luce stuck out her tongue and pulled her eyelid down before capping her bed hair away from sight. Laughing at the fuming girls, Luce kicked her bat out from under her arm and let the sweet spot sit on her shoulder, pulling up her dufflebag again to head off for baseball. It'd be endless fun if she could've been down there. She'd make sure to kick up a lot of mud and dirt, aim it right at those girls and wipe off those drooling expressions. But as the circumstances stood, Luce had to show up a baseball captain, who hardly glanced at her when she walked in. Luce looked around. Very few girls seemed to be willing to slide across the dirt to first base. Pathetic. So much for a shower, Luce thought as she threw and caught a baseball bat, a rather weak armed girl her partner who 'oof'ed every time she caught one of Luce's fastballs. She wouldn't make the team, or Luce would eat her baseball hat. And that old rag wouldn't taste good at all. Luce's arrogant gaze added a tint of annoyance when the co-captain interrupted one of her pitches, punching her shoulder lightly and saying with an irritated look,

"No girly excuses this season." He looked disgruntled, and Luce glanced up at the captain, who ignored her entirely. If it wasn't him then… Luce looked to the pint-sized coach who was about to keel over from: "Potential! Oozing out of everyone's ears! My goodness gracious- blah blah blah this season blah blah winning streak blah."

"Showers!" The co-captain yelled.

Sweaty and exhausted. Ah, the best way to start a morning. Peeling off her hat and wiping off her forehead with the back of her wrist, Luce looked around. So far, she knew not a single baseball team member's name. As usual. She'd probably have to piece the names together as the week went on, as usual. Unless the coach was the sappy, 'let's throw a baseball around and introduce ourselves' type. Luce wouldn't have been surprised at all. Judging by the handwritten roster of the baseball team members this season, there were two other girls. Luce scoffed. They didn't need any other girl other than Luce. She was the only girl from Lahea that would've been worthy of the sports offered at Armon. Her life revolved around sports. She didn't have time for petty grades. Speaking of grades… Luce smirked. It'd be fun to show up sweaty and gross to homeroom. Only a quick cold rinse, Luce decided, picking up her bat and heading off towards the clubrooms, where the men's and ladies locker/shower rooms were located.
 
((I've been in the hospital thanks to having the Flu, Bronchitis and Namonya (Crap! I can't spell it. Blame it on those damn sea monkeys.) all at once. I've been in there for about a week, so I never got time to post until now.))


Thanks to the shower roaring like thunder in a hurricane, Fabian's I-pod was cranked at maximum volume. His morning shower was over twenty minutes ago. Still he the water running, making sure that Jamal's bath would be colder than a taco in Antarctica. If only his roommate hadn't canceled their plans to eat at the cafe right after he had changed into his fancy bathing suit! Fabian was certain things would be normal between them after Jamal got a taste of ice. The steam faded enough for Fabian to inspect and vanitize. He quickly noticed his murky brown eyes.


​
"Ugh." Was all he could manage to spit out. Talking while using mouth wash is like conversing while mute. He picked up his contacts. He could see perfectly, but he was like a carnivorous flower, he had to appeal to his victims. This year it was girls. Last year it was other classmen. Though they were not as important to his sexual life, looks had a good deal in popularity. Hell, you could be a demon bent on world destruction, but if you had sex-appeal, no one cared.


​
Fabian shook his head swiftly. Making his hair look messy and uncombed, as if he were a matted dog named Larry. He hated to see himself look like this, but again, looks are everything. He turned the shower off.


​
"Perfect."


​
Jamal was still asleep. School Started soon, Fabian figured he had better wake him up. He heaved his heavy book bag onto his shoulder. His stomach grumbled, but it sounded more like a tiger ripping apart a walrus at Sea World, as he half dragged himself across the small, quite room. He flipped on the lights as he walked out.​
 
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Heath awoke with a narrow squint into the room. Over top he could hear Dean's minor movements, still deep in sleep. Heath lay silently as the orange glow of the morning sun broke into their room in slits that lined the opposite wall. He rolled over lazily, picking his cell phone up from the floor and checking the time. Upon the inspection he sighed at his discovery.

"Ugh... 5:45... and I need to be at the fields at 6:30", Heath said to himself quietly into the silence. He rolled over breathing in heavily before finally dragging himself out of bed and slumping to his still unpacked bags. He tossed them open, pulling out his usual soccer practice wear of shorts and a t-shirt, then packing his uniform neatly into his soccer bag. Finishing his morning bathroom routine and of course skipping the hair brushing part, he headed out into the early morning sun.

Only a few students roamed the campus at this hour, mostly just others involved in sports since due to the afternoon heat, it was ideal to have practice in the mornings. He set on a brisk jog to the fields and upon arrival, set up the different equipment for the soon arriving potential players.

----

The practice went by, and it was a complete disaster. There were girls who didn't even know how to spell soccer, let alone kick a ball. Heath spent the majority of the practice with his face in his palms, shaking his head in disappointment. A girl from the baseball diamond seemed to be taunting the girls who were struggling with the try outs. Heath should have done something to stop her actions but at the same time felt they deserved it so he merely turned the other cheek. Finally at the end of practice, all of the prospect players were lined up together and given the final word. Most of them were doubled over gasping for air and sweating profusely.

"Listen up everyone. As you would have guessed... we have 11 starting positions available with a sub for each position and 3 standby positions and no lower team. If you didn't make it this time, train hard and come back next year. Theres always a chance to make it. Players who made the team will be posted at 3:30pm today on the outside of the gymnasium. You're all dismissed, hit the showers" Heath said sternly to the students.

They all began to file out of the field, breathing sighs of relief that the torment had finished. Heath looked down at a stray ball on the field then up to see the baseball team filing out as well. He popped the ball up with his foot and volleyed it towards the girl from before, hitting his target, firmly in the center of her butt. As he awaited a reaction, he gave a small smile that seemed to say 'thats for picking on my players'

Heath turned back and followed the others towards the boy's locker room, showering and changing into his uniform lazily and keeping his unkempt look. He strolled from the locker room casually, now with a slimmer school bag slung over one shoulder, heading towards homeroom across campus. The campus was now full of students hurrying to their classes. Heath reached homeroom, not speaking to anyone and walking across the room. He took a middle seat next to the window, tossing his bag on the ground and dropping into the chair, propping his chin up with his palms and staring out the window.
 
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Koo Koo Ka Choo- I am the posted.

Brad awoke to the obvious rumble of Xavier getting dressed. The sophomore had no regard for Brad's sleeping habits, and it was 4:00 in the morning! The sun (if Brad hadn't blocked the windows) would not even be stirring out of it's solar bed even then.
"WHAT THE HELL! I AM SLEEPING!!!" Brad said in a an angry, but quiet, tone. Brad has absolute rage in his eyes, his knuckles cracked in preparation to punch Xavier in the stomach.
"Oh. Must have missed ya, freshie. Got to go to basketball practice. Hope you're not too tired. Poor thing." Xavier mockingly said.
"Hmm... so, off to practice idiocy. At least my sport is practical. Go, waste your time, I do not care. Hope you do well, accursed sophomore. I'll be laughing as you fail." Brad bitingly responded. One thing the tan man didn't like was mockery, but his words were as sharpened as Xavier's, and cut just as deep. Xavier just walked out.

Brad entered the shower, and after about 10 minutes, emerged from it. Then, Brad got dressed. He put on his black leather jacket- alligator leather, Maltese (blue-grey) Tiger fur inside, and overall, very comfortable. He also put on his silken white dress shirt, his pants, and his black leather shoes. He also got his bag for swimming together- school issued white swimming suit, completely hydrodynamic, and his black goggles, both went in to the black tote bag. Emblazoned upon it was the Matthews Incorporated logo, a large black M with red fire inside the borders.

Brad was bored, and his eyes were too tired to play a game of Civilization, so he went outside, and saw a huge pile of books burning. He went back to his room, got some Belgian chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers, and out of Brad's black cane, which he had bought, came an unsheathed foil, meant for fencing. It had a diamond knob. Anyways, Brad skewered a few marshmallows, and eagerly watched them burn. Brad had always loved fire- so destructive, so powerful, so cruel. After the marshmallows had roasted, Brad made S'mores. Brad ate them, and the sugar bolted him from his half-conscious daze. For the next few minutes, Brad did this, and a few others came. He then finished his pyromaniacal fun, and went back to his room. A new book lay on his desk- upon it lay the name "Generals". Brad read it- and saw many things he planned on disobeying. For one, Brad would slouch whenever he pleased. Brad hated women's ettiquete.
"Obsolete ideas from the Victorian Age- they clash with modernity, and therefore, with me. I mean, come on!" Brad thought.

At 5:30, Brad left for swimming tryouts. He got dressed in his suit. The short woman there, curvaceous in structure, black in skin, told him to get in. He did so, and did what was required- 10 freestyle laps, 10 butterfly laps, 5 breastroke laps, and 7 backstroke laps. Afterwards, he showered once more, got redressed, and went back to his room. Since Xavier wasn't back, Brad played Civ. Time for more computer generated genocide, Brad thought. A smile of demented glee crossed his golden face.
 
Illya woke up at around six thirty. Giving a slight groan, she took off her purple silk eyemask and rubbed her eyes. Track tryouts weren't until the afternoon which was fine with her; more time to get prim and proper for school. She was hardly a morning person anyway.The room was still which could only mean that her obnoxious roommate had left already. Taking as much time as she could she entered the bathroom and took a hot shower. After this, she blowdryed, straightened, and placed her two favorite circular clips in her hair. Her clothes were neatly prepared in the closet as well as her books. Checking the time again it seemed that she still had plenty of time left before school started; she didn't have to start homeroom until 8:00. Track wasn't till the afternoon...but she could still put her stuff in her locker now. It'd save her the time from coming back here at least. With that thought in mind she picked up her dufflebag and headed to the locker rooms.

On passing the track field, she noticed that the soccer team as well as the baseball team were just starting to finish up. If the soccer team took the center of the track field, how was it that the track team didn't just use their normal course around the field? She stood for a second and thought. What if one of the soccer players kicked a ball at a track runner? Even worse, what if the ball rolled under a track runner? The thought made her rub her elbows. That wouldn't have ended out well...

She snapped out of her revere just in time to notice that one guy, -Heath?-, kick a soccer ball at someone else from the baseball team. She hadn't noticed what exactly the baseball girl had been doing, but it must have been something insulting. Well, from what she could see...the soccer team did need a bit of training. The ball seemed to hit her squarely on the butt. With further observation...was that Luce? Placing her hand over her mouth, she suppressed herself from sneering. Oh, she'd have to bring this up later. Right now though she still needed to get to the girl's locker room. But she could walk a bit slower to see the tomboy's reaction.
 
At the first instance, Luce swallowed the shriek of indignancy that was bubblng up her throat. However, after catching sight of the soccer ball and the player who'd kicked it. Why that arrogant-!! Luce let out the shriek she'd held down earlier, grabbing the black and white sphere in her devil-woman hands, throwing it in the air and sending it flying back to the track field with a clean punt. Her soccer skills weren't quite as accurate as that prick, so she merely sent it back in the general direction of the field before whipping her bat off her shoulder and pointing it at the soccer star. Her message: "You-are-so-dead". She'd have to figure out what year and class he was in so she could pick a fight. Maybe he'd be too pansy to fight her. From what she could see, and it wasn't much, he certainly didn't look to burly.

A bat to the face and he'd shut up for good. Luce grumbled to herself, snapping a harsh, "Shut up!" at the other guys who were laughing merrily at her embarassment. However, they quickly shut up and were red with embarassment as she walked into the girls locker room, because she'd already pulled her shirt halfway over her head before she'd even walked in. They wouldn't have seen much anyway, since she was wearing a black sports bra. No lace for Luce. Not that she was particularly vuluptuous anyway. Wrenching open her locker with a disgruntled look, she violently threw her baseball cap off her head and into her locker, along with her capri's and plain white t-shirt. While other girls had perfume in their lockers, Luce had a can of lysol for when her clothes got too sweaty. While other girls had body lotion, Luce had various bottles and cans, all for the perfect maintenence of her glove and bat.

"He was sooooo cool." Luce overheard one girl gush. Raising her arm in the air unceremoniously to apply deoderant, she rolled her eyes before capping her deodorant off and throwing it into her locker, finishing the day's unfortunate transition from sports to school with the louder-than-necessary slam and click of the metal door.

It was just the same when she stormed into her homeroom, a slam of the door and a glare at the girls who'd gone silent at her arrival. Many of them looked disappointed to have Luce in their homeroom class. Perfect. It was entertaining to Luce, how much of the room was seperated by genders. Girls in the front, boys in the back. However, Luce wasn't about to give up her coveted spot at the very back of the classroom just because of this stupid gender division.

Letting her duffle bag drop to the ground, she was satisfied to hear the clear metal 'ping' of her baseball bat hitting the tile floor. Yes, that was right. She hadn't brought anything academically useful to class. Not even a pencil was on her person, let alone the handbook, paper, or textbooks.

The start of a wonderful term.
 
Jamal liked to sleep. In fact, Jamal loved to sleep. If sleeping was a sport, Jamal would be the world champion. And so, he was quite annoyed when a flash of light shone through his eyelids, causing him to shoot up and slam his head on the top bunk. As he slid his hand from under the covers to rub is forehead, the sheet slipped down his stomach and revealed his mesmerizing six-pack. Jamal looked down at his fit abs with a broad smile, reminiscing the days when he trained so hard to get better at basketball. Although he had long since stopped his intense work outs, the former-basketball player was never too fond of junk food and therefore never really lost his figure. His basketball skills were another question entirely, but that would soon be answered.

"Tryouts are today!" Jamal shouted. Unfortunately, he got a bit too excited and bumped his head on the top bunk once again. Biting his lip hard, and actually drawing some blood, Jamal was able to overcome the pain and he lazily slid out of the bed.

"Yo Fabian, you there?" he yelled into the desolate dormroom, not even bothering to pick himself up. He asked two more times until he was positive that his roommate was no longer in the room. Jamal was actually thinking about thanking Fabian for unintentionally waking him up until he saw the time. Tryouts were long over, and classes were about to begin.

"That little— oh when I see him, he's gonna get it!" Jamal yelled with fire in his eyes and a fist raised high. Without a second to spare, he sprung up and darted into the bathroom. He stopped for a moment to look around, as he hadn't checked it out before. It looked pretty plain with the white tiles, white toilet, white sink and of course, white shower. Heck, even the drapes for the shower were white! After giving his teeth a quick brush and with an unmatched curiosity, Jamal jumped in the tub to see if the soap was white as well. However, to his surprise, he landed with a big, hot, splash, wetting the boxers he had forgotten to remove.

"So Fabian just finished showering? That means he can't be too far if I hurry, I might be able to catch him!" Jamal thought to himself, not even pondering the faults in his plan. As he swung his undergarments over the shower door, the teen subconsciously turned on the shower, expecting a nice, warm splash of water to relax him.

"HOLY SON OF A—." Jamal screamed as the ice cold liquid ran down his back like Death's fingers. As his back shuddered in the coldness, and his feet boiled in the hotness, it finally hit him. This was all Fabian's doing.

"Oh, h-he's gonna ge-get it..." Jamal muttered to himself as turned off the shower and decided to bathe in the leftover hot water.

Jamal managed to get dressed in record time, even though the effects of the cold shower were still plaguing him. If there was anything he liked more than a good sleep, it was either a good, hot shower or basketball. All of which Fabian had found some way to screw up. Like always, he made sure his shirt was not tucked in his tie was as wrinkled as ever. Even with his revenge against Fabian set, Jamal couldn't pass up a chance to annoy the teachers on the first day. He grabbed his backpack and with a final look at his room, Jamal closed and locked the door and hurried to class.

"I guess I can't complain," he said to himself while running, "he's much more interesting than my last roomie."
 
Tomorrow would be a long day. This was the conclusion Dean came to as he sat atop Heath's bed. His guitar still sat perched on his knee, given minor attention in the form of a handful of soft strums. No, Dean had become more interested in something else, at least for the moment. Heath had stood to retrieve two plastic bags from his backpack, causing a grin to spread across Dean's face. It was a move that the boy recognized all too well. The bags, one of marshmallows and one of chocolate chips, now sat between the two roommates. The marshmallows were tiny, the ones you would drop into a mug of cocoa. This excited Dean immensely. Though he was usually a cocky brat, he found himself occasionally taking pleasure in small, insignificant things. This was one of those times. Reaching down, he scooped up a handful of marshmallows, being sure to mix in four or five chocolate chips. This, he popped into his awaiting mouth.

"Man, Heath," he managed through chewing. It was at this point that he swallowed. While he was often extremely rude, Dean drew the line at speaking whilst eating this heavenly concoction. It just wasn't right. "You da man," he finished. The junior stood, clutching his guitar with one hand. The other, he dragged through his shaggy black hair. It was still just as soft as ever. His guitar found itself seated in its usual stand in the corner of the room, while its master began to strip. Everything Dean was wearing, sans boxers, was soon heaped into a crumpled mess against the wall, leaving him clothed in only the black shorts. Never mind that the white shirt, which was growing increasingly wrinkled by the second, was part of his uniform. Dean couldn't be bothered to deal with the fabric at this point in time. He was sure his roommate wouldn't complain, anyway. This wasn't the first year they had roomed together, after all.

It was obvious by the muffled creaks of the ladder that Dean was ascending the steps to his bed. Without another word, he planted his head firmly on the pillow and shut his eyes.

---Next morning---​

There was no doubt about it--Dean was a restless sleeper. The sheet on his bed was now tangled around his legs, and the quilt…well, who knew where that was? As if to tell him he needed to awaken, light shone through the curtains, landing directly on Dean's eye. At this, he furrowed his brow. Who was the sun to tell him to get out of bed? As if he, the attractive, rich Dean Caldwell, could be controlled by the sun. In one fist, he grasped the pillow beneath him and, in one swift motion, flung it at the window. He would be satisfied with himself, only now he had nothing on which to rest his head. The choice was his. He could either get up and get the pillow, at which point he would already be awake enough to get dressed, or he could try to sleep rather uncomfortably without. He decided on the former. It was already light enough in the room, to the point where he would not have to flip the light switch. As he descended the ladder, one balled-up object caught his eye.

"There you are!" he exclaimed gleefully, gathering the fallen quilt into his arms and hoisting it up onto his bed. The cover had obviously fallen in the middle of the night, most likely the result of one swift kick from Dean.

If there was one thing that Dean Caldwell was skilled at, it was quick showering. The warm water was certainly welcome after a cold night without a quilt. Into his hand, he squirted one glob of coconut-scented shampoo, letting the fragrance enter his nose before rubbing the shampoo on his hair. He could almost feel it permeate his scalp. Once he had both lathered and rinsed, he applied a conditioner, also containing the sweet smell of coconut. This was responsible for the silky smooth feeling his ebony locks carried.

This was the extent of his primping. Part of his appeal, after all, was his "I'm-too-cool-to-care" attitude. Now that he was dry, he began to dress. Momentarily, he considered substituting his black hoodie for that required sports coat, but he decided against it. It was better not to anger teachers on the first day back. They would probably chastise him for wearing a wrinkled shirt as it was, as if the pink tie didn't anger male teachers enough.

The trek to his homeroom class was not a time consuming one. Dean was tall, and his strides were long. Upon reaching the newly segregated class, he slung his arms around two blondes, flashing them each a sparkly Dean smile.

----------♥----------​

Her only response to the girl's apology was a dainty shake of the head. "N-No, don't apologize…" she stammered. Her form lowered into a small bow before she stood erect once more. "I'm sorry, I-I angered her…I'm the one who was wrong…" Her eyes were lowered to the floor beneath her. Alina's dress would certainly be wrinkled by the time she got back to the dorm, since she seemed to clench it in her fists so much. Her apology was interrupted by Rémi. Whether this was a good or bad thing, Alina had yet to find out. A crimson hue permeated her cheeks as he spoke. Her roommate's twin…there was something about him that made her nervous. Well, more nervous than usual.

"Y-Yes…I-I would like that very much." It was all she could manage. "Thank you." She attempted to cover up her nervousness with a bright smile. And a genuine one, at that. It wasn't long before the group had dwindled back down to Alina and Corrine. The blonde followed her older roommate all the way back to the dorm, where she was politely offered the bottom bunk. Alina shook her head in response.

"You may have whichever bed you'd like, Miss Corrine. I-I'm fine wherever." She smiled gently. Her cheeks flushed once more, however, when she heard the second part of Corrine's question…the part about her twin. "Um…He's…he's really nice." Alina smiled. "I don't think…he seems lazy. You're lucky to have such a brother, Miss Corrine." Of course, there was more hidden behind these words. Unsurprisingly, Alina found Rémi to be quite handsome…not like she would vocalize these feelings. Eager to change the subject, she decided to ask Corrine about the morning.

"Ah...w-will you have tennis tomorrow?" Alina smiled. "I suppose if you do, we should get to bed...I don't want you to be tired because of me..."
 
David Park was a very light sleeper. Early on, he realized that he could easily function with as little as 4-6 hours of sleep per night. Needless to say, he liked to abuse that little trait of his; it was standard procedure for him to stay up way into the wee hours of the night, either working away at assignments meant to be due the next morning or simply killing time by watching anime or playing real-time strategy games if there was nothing else left for him to do.

The time: 0700 GMT. David, fresh from a marathon StarCraft session and about four hours of sleep, languidly slid out of the bottom bunk in his dorm. Even though he needed little sleep, he was anything but a morning person. After taking a few moments to find his bearings and adjust his eyes to the bright morning light, he shuffled over to the bathroom, splashed some cold water on his face, brushed his teeth, and ran a comb through his hair several times. After a moment of deliberation, he opted against taking his usual shower; he didn't smell that bad...yet. He then shuffled over to his closet and started dressing up. At least he got good points for having a neat and orderly uniform; even the teachers who hated him admitted that he was easily one of the best-dresssed people on campus. For that special finishing touch, he took out the sunglasses lying in a case on his desk and put them on. Perfect.

With most of the preparations finished, David unceremoniously shoved his trusty laptop into his book bag, slung the thing over his shoulders, and started walking off to homeroom. It had been quite a while since he had last been in the company of female students in the same classroom as he was; he obviously liked this change of scenery, though there were quite a few of his peers who were violently opposed to the mere concept. No matter. If they said anything out of line, he'd be there to teach them a lesson or two in egalitarianism.
 
Hurrying into his homeroom, Leberecht peered about himself. The classroom was not like most. In fact, it looked more like a conference room than a classroom, with ten rows of chairs arranged in a semi-circle around a podium in the very middle. The only real desk was set off to the corner, reserved for whoever was delivering a lecture that day, or perhaps the teacher who would supervise during days that a real lecturer wasn't available, or the one special day at the beginning of the year when students were given homeroom to re-acquaint themselves with each other. It had something to do with maintaining relationships with others even over long periods of time, the first half of the class being mostly introduction, and the last half being simply… conversational time. Or perhaps, time to catch up on some summer work that one didn't finish. Leberecht walked around, looking for his name on one of the curved wooden tables to find his new seat. Third row, right next to the middle aisle that split the rows in half right up to the podium. Excellent, maneuvering in and out would be a cinch. Putting his things down, he searched the room for people he knew.

Okay, so there wasn't a single person he didn't know. But people who he'd have to pick up conversation with again once or twice to ensure a good rooted relationship. Heath was the new soccer co-captain. Leberecht was not a soccer kind of person. He couldn't clue in on what exactly could be so great about kicking a ball around. Sure, the running part was great. He understood that part. But having to stop in the middle? No, not so much understanding there.

"Hey Heath." Leberecht said, approaching and leaning on the chair behind him, one row under the person he was conversing with, quickly putting his hands up, "Don't worry, I'm not here to pester you about track. But I heard you got appointed as the co-captain of the soccer team- Congratulations. Hopefully the sports season'll be great as ever. Some people don't seem too keen on teamwork this year, you know?" Leberecht laughed, glancing over at the division that was more obvious due to the fact that this was their third year, and they'd already had two years of seperation pounded into their mindsets. Now, Leberecht didn't need to ask Heath what his opinion on the merge was. He and Dean- Leberecht knew their personalities well enough. There was a magic word that could get Dean's head to shoot up like a prarie dog poking it's head out of it's home to search for predators- only, the other way around. More like the predator looking from prey.

"Hope they'll get over it soon." Leberecht shrugged a shoulder, shaking his head in amusement at their stubborn antics.
 
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