[center](The following Madison/Malek post was a collaboration between myself and [@Trinais]. C: )[/center]

"This is not how you do this thing. This is how you do thing and invite trouble. I can't even read half of it, but what I can read? It does nothing to serve the purpose!"

Malek grimaced as he looked at the very official-looking student handbook, his fingers dark with oil stains from the garage as he pointed to the Rule Four in the charter of student conduct and contraband. The stains from his fingers lingered, soaking into the pages just below, obscuring a section on the keeping of familiars and pets on premises- another fight to have, for another time.

"You want weapons training because of the war, but you are limiting what is allowed. 'No enchanted heirloom weapons' it says here. That is invitation to break the rule, and very easy to do. 'Is enchanted but not an heirloom, teacher! Is just fancy looking and enchanted with runic powers! Daddy found for me after fell off truck.' There is no way to prove otherwise and if I say głupie gadanie to their faces and confiscate, you have complaint from student family and a week of headaches until they force to return the weapon. It must all be allowed, or none of it. You make these dividing lines then children will find a way to break them for fun- then, for danger."

[color=#FFDB58]“Well, I certainly understand your concerns, Mr. Stanislaw.”[/color] The Professor of Pyromancy’s voice was soft and sweet, betraying none of his true gender as he followed the jab of Malek’s finger. [color=#FFDB58]“I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if someone attempted to find a loophole one way or another, either. But rest assured that the weapons check will be mandatory for a reason.”[/color] Madison nodded a bit, idly fixing his shirt as he spoke. He had attempted to dress as professionally as possible so as to make a good first impression on the students- a pale yellow blouse, a skirt that he had gotten pressed just that morning, and a pair of modest heels. 

A warm smile pulled at Madison’s lips as he added, [color=#FFDB58]“Besides, I have full faith in Ms. Byrne that no stray enchantments will get past her. She’s a very no-nonsense woman when it comes to things like that. And if a student makes a complaint, you can always tell them that the rule was put into place by the Council themselves. [i]We[/i] are just here to enforce it.”[/color] 

Madison decided not to mention the fact that several of the professors, including himself, had given their input on the rule list when it was being run through by the voting committee.

"As you like," Marek said, nodding lightly. His eyes shifted to the desk, allowing Madison to adjust his clothes in peace while settling the matter- for the moment. 

"It is my duty to keep these young people safe- not just from the outside world, but also from themselves. Is why you hired me. Is why I took the job. But I will caution you that as badly as you think these children will break your rules, they have terrible capability to break your expectations. My mother took a Chevrolet and turned it into an armored car with no magic at all. And on that note, there is the matter of these 'vacations' to the town. There is no place for vacations at a school like this one. Study first, fun second. The more I have to go and grease palms with policja, the more likely trouble is to follow us back here. Both magical and mundane. The leave policy should be changed to lockdown."

There was one other important matter that Marek wanted to discuss, but it took the appearance of Parael, his owl familiar, flapping into the trees outside of Madison's office window. He winced visibly while, in its talons, a rabbit struggled in its grasp before it engaged in that endless "circle of life" nonsense the children laughed about.

"Finally, the library. You know my opinion. Volume Three of Sebastien's Summoning Grimoire. I want it, a gallon of petrol, and a bottle of vodka. That book should not be."

A laugh broke free of Madison’s chest. [color=#FFDB58]“I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. I was quite the troublemaker myself at their age, you know.”[/color] The taste of liquor and cherry came flooding back with the memories, alongside something far more bitter. He shook himself out of his little reverie, clearing his throat. [color=#FFDB58]“You may be right about that, Mr. Stanislaw. The field trips can very well be...well. Rather dangerous, to say the least. But keep in mind that the children are currently unaware of their reasons for being here. Holding them on complete lockdown would raise suspicion, which could frighten them.”[/color]

Madison folded his hands neatly upon the polished cherrywood of his desk. “Polished” because he had taken pains to coat the whole thing in a thick layer of fireproof paint. The ink on his wrist stood out clearly against his skin. [color=#FFDB58]“There’s also the fact that the children might need to purchase things for themselves from time to time, like clothes and such that they might not trust us to order for the-”[/color]

His attention was stolen by the sight of Parael fluttering outside the window, prey in grasp. He watched for a moment before carefully drawing the blinds, smiling apologetically. [color=#FFDB58]“You’ll have to excuse me if I’d prefer not to see that.”[/color] Madison cleared his throat. [color=#FFDB58]“I’ll look into making arrangements for you to have that book destroyed, though. I agree wholeheartedly- something like that shouldn’t be in the reach of the students.”[/color]

With deft movements, Madison snatched a sticky note from his desk, scribbled onto it, then tucked it safely into his pocket. [color=#FFDB58]“Did you have any other concerns you would like to address, Mr. Stanislaw?”[/color]

"Trust goes many ways. I will of course do what is necessary to protect the students and, if necessary, bail them out. But I reserve the right to make their free periods... unpleasant. You would not believe how many children are afraid of getting oil on their hands. And how badly some equipment we purchased needs repairing."

The closure of the blinds came at a very opportune moment. Marek did not enjoy seeing his familiar even on his best days. The creature was of another dimension and had no need of food or drink. The fact that it hunted prey spoke to either an innate predatory instinct, or a desire to inflict pain on weaker forms of life. Neither of which boded well.

"I appreciate you taking this warning of mine to heart, at least. The students treat familiars as pets. And some are, depending on their planes of origin. But too many aren't. A cute smile and bright plumage deceives the innocent." As Madison signaled that they were done with this line of conversation, he took a moment to grin and collect his jacket and the worn student handbook, standing, briefly offering his stained hand before realizing his mistake and retracting it. "My only other concern is for yourself. Do you think you are prepared to shepherd a hundred students with cosmic powers into a brighter future?"

[color=#FFDB58]“Well, I’m sure that punishment will become a necessity in the future, so I don’t see anything wrong with the students picking up new skills during it.”[/color] Madison smiled. [color=#FFDB58]“As long as no one plans to run the students through a death trap or anything of the sort, I’ll do my best not to interfere with that sort of thing.”[/color]

Already, Madison was aware that he would likely be mentally applauding some of the more clever students for their ingenuity, even when used to weasel around the rules. A bit of a bad trait to have in a teacher, yes, but a trait of his nonetheless. It was almost like Marek was reading his mind with his last question- [i]would[/i] he be fully prepared? 

Madison cleared his throat. [color=#FFDB58]“That’s also quite true. It wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary for a student to summon a predator over a prey, given the odds- although I do think that the rule was put in place for a few reasons.The first of which is that some members of the Council believe that it could allow the students to, ah, form a closer bond with their familiar. Allow them to work better as partners, instead of just ‘servant and master’.”[/color] He took a quick glance at his monitor before continuing. 

[color=#FFDB58]“There also happens to be a student on campus who, well. Depends greatly on her familiar to help her navigate.”[/color] He turned the monitor towards Marek, allowing him to see the profile of one of their young students. [color=#FFDB58]“Leila Ingram. She happens to be legally blind, and her familiar serves as a ‘seeing eye dog’ of sorts. Albeit with a bit less ‘dog’ than usual, of course.”[/color] Madison laughed a little before turning the monitor back and rising to his feet. A sort of soberness fell upon him as he considered again the question, his eyes wandering briefly to the ceiling with a sigh.

[color=#FFDB58]“I certainly [i]hope[/i] that I’ve prepared myself enough for this...although to be perfectly honest with you, I’m afraid that I’m not wholly confident about it, either. It’s my first time teaching, after all.”[/color] He paused, although anything else he might have added was swiftly cut short by the buzz of his pocket. Eyes widening, Madison fumbled for his phone, scanned over the message, then shoved it back into place.

[color=#FFDB58]“It, ah, seems as if our students have arrived.”[/color] An almost shy smile spread across his face, the sort of stiffness expected of a professor slipping from his shoulders for a moment. [color=#FFDB58]“I do truly hope that they’ll be fond of me.”[/color]

"The only thing students can sense better than fear is lies. Be who you are and they will at least respect you. And they may even listen to you." Marek made for the door, the formality of saying 'goodbye and good luck' either lost or wasted on him. "Naucz ich z miłością. Lub bić ich, dopóki się ciebie nie boją." He grinned, peaking his face through the crack of the door. "'Teach with love. Or beat them with a stick until they learn.' Both work! Ask my mother!"

It was a somewhat unconventional tip, yes, but the smile it brought to Madison’s face was completely and utterly genuine. [color=#FFDB58]“Thank you, Mr. Stanislaw. I’ll make sure to take that advice to heart.”[/color] The former over the latter, at the very least. He gave Marek a cheerful wave as he departed, before sighing a little and straightening his shoulders. Madison’s hands once again flit over his hair, his clothes, his neck as he left his office, making sure that everything was perfect.

First day. All he had to do was act like a responsible adult, and everything else would fall into place.

Putting on a self-assured smile, he strode through the halls, eagerness washing his nerves away. 

[hr]

Slowly but surely, Dawn’s fellow students began to filter in. She found herself quietly observing them from behind her plate and papers as they entered, taking in the people that she would very likely find herself working alongside at one point or another. A pale haired young man who seemed content to sit by himself. A redhead in a colorful sweater, who had been dozing in the common room- apparently long before Dawn had gotten there, herself, if the bowl in front of her was of any indication. A girl whose heavy tattoos marked her as a Ciervo. A Santora. A…

[color=#98AFC7]“Larke Sterling.”[/color] Dawn smiled affably as she rose, taking the offered hand in her own cold grasp. [color=#98AFC7]“It’s a pleasure to see you again. Berlin, um, sounds about right.”[/color] She sat back down, gesturing over to the seat across from hers. [color=#98AFC7]“I don’t mind at all, actually. How have you been?”[/color]

At the sudden embrace and blinding from behind, she stiffened, although the sound of the culprit’s voice made the tension seep out of her just as quickly. [color=#98AFC7]“Serenity!”[/color] Dawn’s smile returned in full force, and she made to try and lift the other’s hands away from her face. [color=#98AFC7]“I, ah, didn’t know you were going here, too. I would say that it’s nice to see you, but, um. Hands?”[/color]

It had taken a very short amount of time for someone- some [i]people[/i]- that she had known to show up and recognize her. All things considered, it wasn’t too surprising. Her family’s roots dug deep, its reputation deeper. It would have been far more surprising for her to have remained completely and entirely anonymous, known by none but herself. Still, Dawn hadn’t expected to run into people she knew herself so soon. 

Still attempting to nudge Rini’s hands away from her face, Dawn nodded in Larke’s general direction. [color=#98AFC7]“Serenity, this is Larke. Larke, Serenity. I’m, um, not sure if you two have met?”[/color]

She chose not to give their last names, wordlessly offering them the opportunity to decide whether to do so themselves. Names could give away all who you were, in some aspects. She herself knew that quite well.

[@ScoundrelQueen][@Akayaofthemoon]

[hr]

[color=#8B4513]“Helena? Helena.”[/color] The girl had said that her friends called her Hel, but given that she and Esperanza were not quite friends yet, the necromancer refrained from calling her that just yet. Perhaps someday, but not now. She smiled brightly at Hel, then continued her work in clearing up the spill. 

[color=#8B4513]“You do not need to thank me, Helena. I am happy to help you clean up.”[/color] By this point, some of the milk had soaked into the gauze around her arms, causing it to droop and expose more of the ink beneath. Esperanza made a half hearted attempt to dry it before giving up and ripping the bandages away and into the garbage. Tattoos and fresh scabs wound up her skin like ivy. 


Expecting Hel to notice, Esperanza looked over at the girl, running long fingers across the mutilated flesh. [color=#8B4513]“Do not be worried about the cuts,”[/color] she said, hastily, returning to the table with fresh napkins. [color=#8B4513]“My mother taught me how to use Blood Magic. I know some, but I am hoping to learn more here.”[/color] She beamed a little, patting away at a particularly sludgy mound. [color=#8B4513]“What classes will you be having, Helena?”[/color]

[@VitoftheVoid]

[hr]

Percival R. Pelacour was not one to chew the scenery. He paid little attention to the swirl of greens and browns and reds outside the window, nor was he particularly bothered by the occasional bumps and grumbles as the car his family arranged for him- and what a nice car it was!- passed over the occasional rough patch that came up in the path. No. He was preoccupied with far more important matters. Copper head bowed over his phone, Percival fiddled with the various tabs and sites charts he had open, pausing once or twice to shake his head or give a low curse as something or other malfunctioned. He had been working on the charts for a few hours by now (because someone was too damn lazy to give him a hand with the arrangements), but had been able to move onto the finishing details by the time his ride had dropped by to pick him up.

Grinning broadly to himself, he swiped his finger across the screen, giving the last touches with a flourish- only a moment before the driver announced that they had arrived. Perfect.

[color=#F87217]“Thanks, Marty.”[/color] The driver’s actual name was actually a mess of syllables and pronunciations that Percival struggled to get out at once, so he decided to give the closest shortest approximation of the name possible. Which just happened to be Marty. A good name. Wholesome. Just like how he assumed Marty was, even if the guy hadn’t spoken more than five words the entire journey. In appreciation, Percival produced a few crisp bills from his pockets, handed it over to Marty, and cheerfully entered the school with his things in tow. 

The woman at front had just about as much bedside manner as Marty, or so the Pelacour son soon discovered. Percival thought that they would make a great couple, bonding over their shared “my job is a living hell” sort of vibe. The secretary, on the other hand, didn’t take much time in musings- instead pushing a stack of papers at him, telling that his luggage would be taken to his room, and instructing him to find the common room before ushering him out.

It was a short walk to get to where he was going, and as luck would have it, it seemed that the assembly hadn’t started yet. Even [i]more[/i] luckily, Percival caught sight of one of his fellow Council kids right out of the gate- the ever-polished, “why don’t you and me get to know each other better over dinner”, Larke Sterling. Percy shot the guy a grin and a very, [i]very[/i] noticeable wave as soon as he was sure Larke was looking in his general direction- a grin and wave that grew even more noticeable upon catching sight of his company. There was a Memoli with him, but his focus was more on the pink-haired chick lurking behind her. Serenity D’Amour. Not a Council kid, but still someone Perc knew well enough that she was practically an old pal at this point. He sauntered up to the table, loosely buttoned jacket waving around like a cape, then tapped both her and Larke on the shoulders. [color=#F87217]“Miss me?”[/color] He grinned broadly. [color=#F87217]“How about we all catch up in a bit? Since, y’know. Busy breakfast.”[/color] With that, he straightened up, then went off to pile his own plate high with cinnamon rolls and bacon. As much as he was eager to pull them aside (for varying reasons), it was a bit too crowded for his tastes. Plus, he still needed to eat. 

Instead of hanging all by his lonesome, Percival sidled his way up to a guy who looked just about ready to hightail it out of there. Those types usually tended to make for some good conversation. Perc plopped down into the seat beside his- not elbow to elbow or anything, but close enough to talk-, took a bite of a bun, swallowed, then spoke up.

[color=#F87217]“Gotta hand it to the decorators, here. Their taste is just [i]phenomenal[/i]. Amirite?”[/color] He gave one of his signature shit-eating grins, kicking his feet up onto the table in front of him. [color=#F87217]“The bear-wolves really accentuate the high class TVs and all that.”[/color] Another bite. Percival took his time in chewing, giving the guy ample time to give his opinion. Or tell him to fuck off. Either or, Percival was used to both sorts of responses by now. 

[@Prosaic][@ScoundrelQueen][@Akayaofthemoon]