[center][hr][h3][color=8dc73f]☆ Nolan Santora ☆[/color][/h3]
[code]Previously: Santora Residence.
Currently: Marchand School - Common Room.[/code]
[hider=Interactions][@EchoicChamber][/hider]
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[i]"[color=598527]Nolan, you understand why this is a good idea, right? You [b]know[/b] what happened with Ni-[/color]"

[color=slategray]His dad had been telling him the same thing all week, it was like hearing a broken record. It just [b]kept[/b] skipping. He was getting tired of it, tired of hearing about how his sisters had turned out just fine. He was tired of hearing about how his inability to learn [b]one thing[/b] was some imminent sign of how he'd repeat history some [b]fucking[/b] how. He wasn't some old, dead, necromancer. 

He despised that his dad was so superstitious, that he believed that this was some kind of sign. It was aggravating, it was [b]assumptive[/b]. He was proud of his abilities, it was hard [b]not[/b] to be proud of his abilities. He [b]wasn't[/b] so proud that he was willing to commit mass slaughter and conspire with negative entities. He [b]wasn't[/b] so proud that he thought he was any better than anyone.

It was [b]stupid[/b] how insistent his father had become over this. His mother hadn't even tried to talk him out of it, seeming to feel like it was better to be safe than sorry. They were all treating this like he was some sort of monster, as if something terrible was growing inside of him and they needed to kill it before it got too large. [b]Christ, they were acting insane.[/b][/color]

"[color=8dc73f]Believe me, dad,[/color]" [color=slategray]he said brightly, his voice was mock-friendly.[/color] "[color=8dc73f]I [b]know[/b]. I was just pondering yesterday about possibly starting my cult. I was thinking we could primarily focus on slaughtering kittens.[/color]" 

[color=slategray]Safe to say that his dad didn't look amused, he seemed to be eyeing the old amulet at Nolan's throat.[/color] "[color=598527]Nolan, you [b]know[/b] who that amulet belonged to.[/color]"

[color=slategray]He snorted abruptly in response, pulling the shining red thing from his shirt. It winked in the light, the blood red stone seeming to catch the reflection of the room in all of it's many facets. It was old, the gold having gotten brassy over the years but the letter carved behind the stone was hard to miss by the wearer.

Of course he knew that he wore Niklaus's amulet, but his grandmother had given it to him before she'd died. She'd handed it to him with trembling hands when he'd only been ten, it meant more to him than history. It was the only thing that he had left of her. She hadn't thought he was wrong for not understanding everything, she'd been [b]proud[/b] of him.[/color]

"[color=8dc73f]You only tell me, I'd say, [b]every other day[/b].[/color]" [color=slategray]he sighed,[/color] "[color=8dc73f]Can I go now or would you like to give me the history lesson again? You know how much I absolutely [b]love[/b] that lesson.[/color]"[/i]

Eventually, he'd let him go but not before instilling another life lesson upon him about how he needed to learn to respect authority. There had been a bit of an implied [i]or else[/i]. His dad usually wasn't authorative enough about his behavior, so it was odd. He'd shrugged it off, trying to play it cool before he left the house but he couldn't help wondering just what his dad thought would become of him if he continued down this path. 

[i]Ominous[/i], absolutely ominous. He couldn't help but being irritated throughout the drive to the school. The bumping and the cursing had grated on his nerves. It wasn't normal for him to be so edgy but [i]this wasn't normal[/i]. If he was a better student, he might have done a bit of studying or something equally productive. He [i]wasn't[/i] a good student though and he'd spent his free time badly. 

He watched out the window the entire time, imagining himself leaping into traffic to escape the bus. It hadn't been entertaining but it had kept his thoughts at bay. If he didn't over think this then it couldn't affect him. He just had to treat this like any other school, get to know his classmates and try to relate with them. There would certainly be other necromancers, he couldn't imagine meeting them.

The Santora's had a bad history, so they tended to avoid other necromancers. It would be different to openly [i]meet[/i] them. It would also be nerve-wracking, he hoped that everything his patents had warned him of had just been stories. He didn't want to meet another necromancer and have them [i]know about Niklaus[/i]. He didn't want to hear anything similar to the sentiments of his father.

When he'd finally gotten to the school, he had tried to keep his posture and expression as open as possible. He wanted to be seen as accepting and friendly. He walked with a confident stride, following his fellow students to the common room. He liked it almost immediately, it was so [i]odd[/i] but the oddness was endearing somehow.

He liked the animal skulls, having cleaned and preserved quite a few skulls himself. He could appreciate the artistry of it. The green walls were comforting, they reminded him of his bedroom back home. The menagerie of colors and conflicting design just seemed as diverse as he figured that the student body would be.

He could spot two girls that seemed to have taken positions by themselves. It was odd to him that they wouldn't want to socialize a bit more but he sort of understood the awkwardness. They were all strangers to each other, he had never really been such a stranger before. He decided to do as the dark-haired girl had done and just get something to eat. Worrying about interaction wasn't worth it.

He piled his plate with just about anything he could fit on it. He carefully balanced it in one hand and his papers in the other. The last thing he needed to do was drench [i]those[/i] in maple syrup. The boy chose a spot near to the dark-haired girl, not too close and not too far, she seemed absorbed in reading over her papers. He wasn't going to break her out of her concentration.

He poked his fork at his plate, taking a hesistant bite of the pancakes. [i]They were good[/i], which surprised him somehow. He didn't know what he'd been expecting but it hadn't been fine cuisine. He didn't have the same drive that this young lady seemed to, he didn't really [i]want[/i] to read over his papers. 

Only a few minutes in and he was already trying to slack off. [i]New record[/i]. How fun it was going to be when he got lost because he hadn't looked at the map.

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