[center][h3][color=green]Alex Hannelore[/color][/h3]
[b][u]Location:[/u][/b] Hoboken, New Jersey
[b][u]Interacting With:[/u][/b] Robert Hannelore[/center][hr][hr]

Alex woke up normally. That is, she woke up on a bed, in her house, and with a pillow somewhere near her head. By all counts, there were worse ways to wake up. Alex blearily fought away the urge to fall backwards into unconsciousness, dressed herself in clothes she thought were clean, and found her way downstairs.

In the foyer was Alex's father, Robert Hannelore, who was staring blankly into a mug of lukewarm coffee. At the sound of Alex's entrance, he wearily pushed a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast towards her. Awkwardness hanging in the air like yeast in a vat of hops, Alex quietly ate her breakfast.

As the last few mouthfuls of starchy, greasy heaven passed through Alex's gullet, she rather suddenly noticed the incredibly conspicuous brass box that had apparently been on her plate the whole time. Alex immediately recognized the owner and purpose of the box, as she always did. This was half of a gift from her mother, one of many that had been given to her throughout her life. The prizes inside the boxes were always exactly what Alex needed, but actually [i]getting[/i] it was always a hassle. The exact mechanism for opening the box was always different, but always decipherable through hard work and cleverness. The mechanism for [i]this[/i] box appeared to be rather simple-- a 36-piece sliding puzzle with a picture of a school on it. Alex looked at the puzzle box with the same look a starved man gives a wax fruit, and set to solving it at once.
[hr]

With a final, deciding [i]click[/i], the slide puzzle was completed. With another, decidedly cinematic [i]shoo-womp[/i], the puzzle box flung itself off the table and exploded into an ovoid disc of bluish light about the size of a person.

"Ride's here," said Robert matter-of-factly, and got up from his seat. "Have a good day at school, make sure to thank your mother."

"Dad, I--" Alex stopped. Talking about her adoptive mother was going to do nothing but cause trouble. "Have a nice day, dad." She hugged her father tightly, and disappeared through the disc. Robert Hannelore, twice divorced and technically a single father, sat back down and patiently waited for Lucille and Theodore to arrive. Alex's mot-... [i]Aporia[/i] was very clear on what they were going to say, and who they were looking for. She was also very clear on what Robert would be giving them. With a heavy heart and no reason to disobey his ex-wife's instructions, Robert guilelessly picked up a pair of unlabeled manila folders. Today, the [i]search would begin[/i].

[hr]

Alex appeared on the campus green of Olympus Academy, none the worse for wear. Her outfit managed to stay unchanged, but she felt a wretchedly familiar weight in her pockets. Alex fished around, and drew forth [i]another[/i] puzzle box. This one had no recognizable mechanisms, beyond a keyhole and a series of engravings in a foreign language. With any luck, she could get this puzzle solved and start on the road to [i]beginning[/i] the school year without [i]too[/i] much trouble. Seconds later, Alex profoundly regretted thinking that, as another puzzle box materialized in her pockets. Though the day had just begun, Alex was nearing her breaking point. Alex had realized long ago that being the child of the personification of difficulty had few perks, but never had the chance to fully come to terms with it. Alex briefly mused on the strange attentions laid upon her, and set off in search of the library.