[Gideon] Three years of painstaking preparation, and not one actual map of the school had come up. Gideon suspected that he could get his hands on one by approaching an alumni of Skyline, but he ultimately decided it would be too dangerous. An alumni would not only have a Word, but the full might of the U.S. Government to dispose of a nosy nobody. ...which explains why Gideon was panting and jogging laps around the school. He'd arrived early for the express purpose of getting familiar with the layout of the campus. Doing so would certainly help in the day to come, and although it was probably going too far, Gideon was the kind of person to do precisely that. After a long meandering circle throughout the grounds, the fatigued student-to-be collapsed onto his hands and knees in a shady spot. [i]So tired... I should still have some time before the other students arrive? Ehh, I'll just take a short break...[/i] Gideon opened his eyes to glaring light shining down from the trees-courtesy of the ever moving sun-and a girl peering down impassively at his prone form. [i]Pretty... Pretty late... F***! I slept in! [/i] Energized by urgency, he leaps to his feet and and begins running off toward the entrance but stops and turns back. "Excuse me! I apologize for addressing you so familiarly considering we are total strangers, but you're too beautiful to ignore. The advice of a stranger would be an odd thing to follow, but certainly better than nothing when the time comes. So, when the time does come, write "Transmit". You won't understand what I mean now, but you will later, and it might just save your life. Good luck!" Gideon promptly runs away after finishing. [hr] [Marcus] ~Just outside the front gates of the school~ “Leave your luggage with me.” Impassively states guard garbed in what was probably meant to be an imposing all-black attire. Of course, it wasn’t the slightest bit imposing to Marcus as he peers down at the 6’1 guard with a slightly amused expression. “Why do I have to give up my luggage?” “It’s only temporary. Standard measure we take with everyone’s luggage to ensure nothing prohibited is taken inside. Your things will be left in your room.” “...fine.” Marcus lifts and holds out his suitcase with one hand, before dropping it for the guard to catch. THe poor guard staggers as his arm is wrenched downward by the colossal weight of the suitcase. He couldn't believe the teenager had been holding it up like it was nothing, and with one hand. Marcus sniggers and follows as the guard struggles to drag the heavy suitcase through the gate with his working arm. The moment Marcus passes through the gate, the school suddenly leaps into place before Marcus's eyes, appearing far closer than it had before. “What the f***!? how the h*** did that-” Marcus spins around only to see a vast expanse of grass stretching out into the distance. He turns around and marches up to the table exclaiming, Hey, did you just see that? Where’d the gate go?! What’s happeni-” “Shhh~” A woman sitting at the tables smiles and puts a finger to her lips. “You don’t need to worry about any of that. Take this, on the front is your classroom number, and inside is your room information and key. Now go on and hurry to your first class, or I guarantee you you’ll regret it. Even if you look like that.” She beams and shoos him off, pointing him in the right direction. “Wahh, wut!-” “Shhhhhhhhhhhh go~” --- Marcus looks around apprehensively as he finds his seat. School. The bane of his existence. Not that he hated school itself so much as the shame of being called on and looking stupid when he couldn't answer the teacher properly. He finds a seat in the back of the room and sits down, already wondering when class would end. A few minutes of awkward, fear-induced silence later (other students tended to unconsciously shy away from Marcus’s large frame.), the teacher enters the room. Relatively average in height, although wearing high heels, with straight black hair and rectangular glasses, the teacher looked to be in her early 30’s and already resigned to a long school year. She introduced herself as Ms. Hawkins. As she addresses the students, she hands out small squares of paper. “Students! Listen up and live, or die in the next hour, I don’t really care, but don’t drag down the other students as well. So shut up, listen, follow my instructions and half of you might just live to see the end of the day.” The class falls so silent, you could probably hear a the ghost of a dead student moan if you cupped a hand to your ear. “Don’t touch this piece of paper yet! Other teachers aren’t as explicit, nor as punctual as I am with their instructions, so count yourselves lucky. “On this paper, you will write one single word. This word will define how you will be fighting for the rest of the school year. It will be what you will depend on, and the only thing you can depend on during your stay here. And most importantly, and I dont know why some teachers don't tell you this, but this word will be your supernatural power, your ability. I recommend nouns and verbs, and to lean away from the more abstract of words.” “Once you’ve decided on a word and written it down, hold it in your hand and say it aloud. After that, have at it. And lastly, have a clear image in your mind when you use your words, or baaaaad things will happen hahahaaa...” With that, Ms. Hawkins sits down in the corner of the classroom, kicks her legs up on a desk, folds her arms, and closes her eyes. “Don’t bother me, don’t bleed on me, and keep quiet. You all should have about five minutes until the blight begins.” [i]Is this some sort of game? A test? What the hell... Other people are already writing. I want super strength! Like superman or batman. Wait, batman doesn’t have super strength. [/i] Marcus writes Strength in the center of his paper and puts his pencil down. Although many had already written words down, no one had said it aloud like the teacher said to. Pushing the square of paper around on his desk, he wonders if he wrote a good word or not. ”Huh, strength.” *CRUMBLE CRUMBLE* The square of paper, tiny compared to to Marcus’s hand, disintegrates into bits and fades into nothing. Meanwhile, a thickly-lettered “Strength” forms on Marcus’s on the outside of Marcus’s arm, just below the sleeve of his red t-shirt. [i]I didn’t even hold the word up! Where’d the paper go!? Q.Q[/i] [hr] Gideon burst into his classroom, terrified that he wouldn’t get a slip of paper. Luckily, he’d arrived just in time and takes the only remaining seat at the very back of the classroom. The teacher, in the process of handing out the slips of paper, hands one to him and shakes his head disapprovingly. Both relieved he made it on time and shocked he nearly hadn’t, Gideon leans back and catches his breath before whipping out a pencil. The word “Bind” is carefully spelled out in the center of the paper. Gideon checks it over before standing up and declaring “BIND!” with a theatrical flair. A spectacular amount of nothing takes place. Gideon looks around dumbly. Sniggers fill the air. Slowly, but steadily, it dawns on him that he wasn’t holding up his Word. Face growing hot, Gideon sits down and stares at his desk in shame. He places his paper on his hand and whispers “bind...” quietly, cheeks burning in shame. The paper soundlessly falls apart and disappears. The itching sensation upon his brow confirmed the location of his word. [i]First, to test things.[/i] While the teacher, walking around the classroom, blathers something about a student’s words, Gideon holds his pencil up and stares at it intently, fixing the image of a cord wrapped around the pencil in his mind. He felt nothing happen internally, but the pencil grew slightly heavier. The cord had appeared upon the penic, exactly where he had imagine. Furthermore, it was a continuous circle, with no knots or imperfections at all. Next was true Binding. Gideon brings the pencil to the edge of his desk, only the pressure of his finger stopping it from falling. He pictures the pencil being held in place, attached to the side of the desk, then slowly removes his finger. Success. The pencil was suspended in place. A smile curling across his face, he stands up and looks around. In front of him was a girl that hadn’t said her word yet. She was cute, with long, bright blonde hair and fair skin. Leaning over his desk, in a low voice he advises “I noticed you haven’t written a word yet. Might I suggest writing “Heat?” Turning her head to look at him, she smirks “I don’t suppose you expect me to stand up and shout it, too?” Gideon just winks and responds “You have beautiful eyes”, before turning to say something to the student to his left. Lost for words, Ashley wants to say something but the words don’t come. She turns back around and remembers the paper on her desk. [i]This definitely isn’t because he complimented me![/i] --- He was doomed, he had decided. With his short stature, pale skin, and bookish glasses, any stranger would guess he was one of the smart kids that study for fun. Unfortunately, Ethan wasn’t particularly smart, and certainly wasn’t decisive, which is why half a dozen words had been written and then scratched out on his only sheet of paper. He was currently working up the courage to ask the teacher for another sheet of paper when someone’s voice cut in on his mental preparations. ”If you need a good word to write, I can give you a hand.” Gideon interjects amicably. “I’m Gideon.” “E-Ethan. You’re the one that was shouting...” “...Look, do you want a word or not?” “Uh, I’m s-sorry...” “It’s fine. You should write Rejuvenate. You [i]do[/i] know how to spell that, right?” Gideon asks, slightly concerned. “Ye-yeah, I got it. Thanks.” Ethan assures, hurriedly scrawling “Rejuvenate” in the remaining space on his crowded white square of paper. “Don’t forget to say it aloud~” Gideon reminds before turning away. Gideon helped out a few other students, but soon most had decided on a word or even said it aloud. [i]Seems now would be a good time to start recruiting~[/i]