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Today is the second day and every student has woken up in their dorms...

Daria couldn't sleep last night, she couldn't stop thinking about Silas and how beautiful he was. She tried busying herself with her books about explosives and writing poetry, but nothing could take her mind off of him. How and why was she developing these feelings, especially since it was the first time in forever?

Now, Daria was feeling so sleepy that she felt everything, the warmth of her skin, the air she was breathing, even being very itchy.

She got up out of the rickety bed of her dorm and went to take a shower in the adjoining bathroom.

Afterward, she slid on her uniform and headed out of the dorm room, that's when she saw it - a hulking boy that definitely didn't look like Silas heading his way towards her.

"Ay! You little bitch! Did you break my mate's leg?" the boy yelled very loud and clear, enough to wake anyone up.

"Um.. who are-"

"That doesn't matter, slut. Did. You. Break. My. Mate's. Leg?" the boy repeated again, more louder.

"No, I didn't-"

Then, the bully slammed her against the wall, enough to make her cry out. Why was she being bullied on her second day?

Ari finally arrived after miles of running and running he got to the school.. Hermes out of breath ari walk into the halls desprite to find a teacher or someone.. to help. him out for he was technally lost and not sure where to be.

ari tried to move his puffy black hair out of his face but it failed miserabley every time. he tried..
"fucking great.. now im lost not sure where to be.. and my hair is a mess"

"No, i didn't-"

The voice of a girl rung over my ears. as i turn my head to see a girl being slamed against the wall.. this is normal right? ari thinks t o himself just watching not suprised as he was about to walk away.

Silas endured the day's lessons with a carefully cultivated detachment, his thoughts wandering far from the subject matter at hand. His sharp, grey eyes would drift in and out of focus as he sat in each classroom. Silas's mind conjured a repertoire of imaginings, far removed from the world, picturing a myriad of ways he could disembowel, dissect, and inflict exquisitely creative tortures upon the teachers who droned on and on at the front of each class. He did not feel an ounce of guilt when he created these scenarios in his head. He couldn't care less about whatever arcane knowledge they were attempting to impart: that wasn't the reason why he was here. The Academy provided a safe space to sleep, sleep safely off the streets, and never go hungry again. He certainly would not miss the gnawing ache in his belly as hunger gnawed away at his insides, or the bone-chilling cold that the street always brought, which gave him the shivers all night long.

At the first opportunity available, he took full advantage of the Academy's provisions. When he got the chance, he emptied his spare pockets before shoving food from the dining hall into them as if he were storing the food for the winter. Bread, cheese, a small cake; he seized anything else he could carry, his movements swift and practised. That of a thief. He could finally relax, even if just for a brief moment in time. He followed the staff member who led him up to his assigned dorm room, his face as cold as ice. Once inside, he promptly slipped through the door, slamming it shut the moment the staff member was out of reach. Now, he was alone, finally. He sank onto his bed with a sigh of relief, the soft mattress giving way beneath him. It had been far too long since he had experienced the comfort of an actual bed of his own, soft and warm, instead of... whatever you called living on the streets. It was more like existing, rather than living, at all.

Sitting up, he spent the next few delicious moments devouring the carefully selected haul of pilfered food from the dining hall, chewing and swallowing with a sense of quiet triumph. He would have given up his own life to feel this content. His stomach was pleasantly full, warm, and content for the first time in years. It was a sensation he intended to savour.
Finally, without further ado, he stripped down to his worn boxers, his gaze lingering as he looked around the room, before shoving his largest knife under his pillow. He was a predator in every other way possible, too, even if he wanted to hurt everyone. He curled up in the surprisingly comfortable bed, pulling the thick blankets around him, and was asleep within moments. The darkness claimed him instantly, swallowing up the weariness and leaving him blank of even the slightest thought to be had. For now, he was free.

Silas awoke early the next morning, his senses sharpened and alert like a wolf stirring in its den. Sleep, for him, was never a true escape, merely a temporary truce with the world. He had learned to sleep lightly, always on guard, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. It had kept him alive through the worst of times. The moment his eyes flickered open, his mind was clear, and his body was already moving. He rose from the bed with a fluid, silent grace, moving towards the door with a predatory instinct. Before doing anything, he paused, his senses on high alert and he pressed his ear against the wood, listening for telltale sounds that may indicate someone was near. All was still.
He reached and gently ran his fingers across the wood, looking for scratches or smudges that he didn't expect to be there from the last night. Not a one. Nothing had been stolen. The door hadn't been opened while he slept, as if someone had tried to sneak inside. All good things. He still knew better than to risk it.
He opened a crack, peering carefully around the doorframe, his sharp grey eyes darting around to look for any clues. He had made sure that nobody was able to look around as he slept, no trace of him in full darkness as he rested his eyes and dreamed of what would come. The dark hallways stretched empty and cold before him, unbroken by movement or sound, all was clear for him. His gaze landed on a neatly folded pile of clothes lying before his door. A uniform.

A groan escaped his lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated dissent that was quickly stifled. Of course. He should have expected this, some pre-ordained set of garments designed to strip him of his individuality. He reached out, snatching up the clothes with a dismissive flick of his wrist. With a flick of his wrist, he slammed the door shut once again, locking it firmly and ensuring that no one would disturb him in his sanctuary. The uniform was disappointingly bland, a colorless canvas devoid of any character. It was a standard, bland collared shirts and dress pants, designed to ensure uniformity and erase any trace of individuality of personality. Silas merely smirked at the clothes as he ran his fingers across them. Well, that simply wouldn’t stand, would it? He knew he couldn't resist the urge to tamper with the school attire and make it his own, to inject some of his personal flair into this stifling display of adherence and conformity. Of course, he would add his own touch. It was the only way he could survive in this place. Of course. With practiced movements, he swiftly began his transformation, replacing the drab tie with a silk cravat of midnight black, secured with a silver clip. He added a delicate silver chain discreetly hung from his waistcoat, gleaming in the dim light, and polished his boots to a blinding shine.

Satisfied, he regarded himself in the mirror, a subtle smirk playing along his lips as he observed his creation. It was still a uniform, technically adhering to the rules and guidelines of the Academy. Just his uniform now. A subtle act of rebellion, a silent declaration of his independence. He would play their game, to be sure and follow the rules, because his safety needed that. But he would play by his own terms, always. He was, after all, Silas Blackwood, and he wouldn't let anyone, not that anyone could, forget it.

As the first rays of dawn clawed their way over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of grey and pale gold, Silas found himself consumed by a restless energy that forbade him to remain confined to his room as he always did in the outside streets. He decided to pace the Academy's corridors, a solitary hunter charting his territory. With silent footsteps and ever-watchful eyes, he roamed the dimly lit hallways, methodically mapping out the terrain in his head. He began to notice and plot routes to escape if needed. He committed to memory the layout of each floor, noting the location of staircases, exits, and potential hiding places. He made mental notes of where everyone's rooms were, a catalogue of the Academy’s inhabitants. He'd seen some of them while he was walking his room, even getting a chance to meet some of them. Silas, in his careful planning, couldn't help but wonder where that strange girl Daria's room was, a random urge. She was interesting.

He felt a sudden rush of heat to his cheeks, an unexpected and unwelcome tide of emotion that he fiercely suppressed. He internally cursed himself for such a ridiculous thought. He should have had nothing to do with these classmates and have started his grand plans. So what if she was beautiful? The thought of the mysterious Daria wormed its way into his mind, disrupting his normally controlled thoughts. He shouldn't care, so why was he starting to?
But for some reason, he did.
The sun rose higher, casting its golden light through the tall windows lining the corridors, and the Academy began to stir. Students emerged from their rooms, voices groggy and tired, their senses only just awakening. Silas continued his patrol, his movements a silent dance amidst the slowly emerging life of the Academy. But then, piercing through the murmur of sleepy chatter, he heard it. That clear, distinctive voice. He knew that voice. Daria. He remembered her perfume, now that he thought about it. How he knew it was her, why it resonated so deeply within him, he couldn't explain – and right now, he simply didn’t care.

Instinct took over, overwhelming his carefully constructed control. He was there in an instant, his body moving with a speed that defied logic. A hidden knife, concealed within the sleeve of his shirt, seemed to materialise in his hand as if by magic, his grip tightening on the hilt until his knuckles shone white. His features twisted into a dark mask of fury, his grey eyes burning with a cold rage as he registered the scene unfolding before him. His vision narrowed, the edges blurring in a haze of red as he watched, his blood boiling as Daria's head was slammed against the unforgiving stone wall. Nobody was doing anything to stop it. Why wasn't anyone helping her? He was not sure how he felt about her yet.
Why was he doing anything about it? The question flitted through his consciousness, barely registered before it was drowned out by an overwhelming surge of protectiveness. His feet moved almost of their own volition, propelling him towards the perpetrator with a single-minded purpose.

His polished boots barely made a sound as he sped across the floor, his movements unnaturally quick and silent. Within seconds he had reached Daria's aggressor, his hand whipping up with practised efficiency, the blade against the boy’s throat. It was so fast that nobody in the hallway could tell what he was doing with the knife. A wicked smile twisted up the corners of his mouth, a chilling display of pure malice. "If you say a single word, this knife will go straight through your eye, understand?" Silas snarled, his voice a low, guttural whisper filled with barely contained fury. He pressed the blade in slightly, enough to break the skin. "You touch her again, even look at her the wrong way, and I will carve out each of your organs slowly, agonizingly slow, so that you can feel as the roaches start to eat away at your insides before I even consider giving you the mercy of killing you. Understood?"

The bully's eyes widened in shock as the cold steel pressed against his throat, making him all the more uncomfortable and very scared. "Uh... I understand..."

Ari jumped backwards in a flash, his baggy jeans tripping him and causing him to fall in embarrassment. As he looked up, he saw a boy standing there, and he couldn’t help but stare as the boy helped the girl. Why is he helping her? Ari thought to himself, watching the boy threaten the girl’s attackers.

“You touch her again, or even look at her the wrong way, and I will carve out each of your organs, agonizingly slow, so that you can feel the roaches start to eat away at your insides before I even consider giving you the mercy of killing you. Understood?”

Ari found himself slightly disgusted by the thought of that. Suddenly realizing he was still on the floor, he leaped up, causing his puffy black hair to fall into his eyes. His tight black t-shirt didn’t help either, and he hoped nobody noticed how embarrassing he looked.

Daria's eyes widened, her back still pressed against the cold wall. The blush was rising to her cheeks again, the same intensity of yesterday's.

Silas’s grey eyes, burning with an icy intensity, didn't waver in the slightest as they mercilessly scrutinized the bully's reaction. The boy was trembling now, pale and wide-eyed, and was sweating profusely. The raw, visceral fear etched across his face brought Silas a surge of dark satisfaction, a twisted sense of pleasure that he had long grown accustomed to recognizing. It had been ages since he'd been able to act like this.

Silas's smile widened for only a fleeting moment, a grotesque expression that revealed the true darkness lurking beneath his carefully crafted facade. It was a smile that promised pain, a smile that whispered of unimaginable torments. That was what he showed a person before he killed them, or before he left them. But, for some reason, this girl was making him smile for real.

With a slow, deliberate movement that amplified the power of his threat, Silas took a step back, allowing the knife to press ever so slightly harder against the boy's taut throat. The gesture was subtle, almost imperceptible, but the effect was undeniable. Harder, just enough to draw a thin line of glistening red blood, causing the bully's breath to hitch in his throat.

"Good," Silas hummed, his voice a low, melodious purr that belied the underlying menace. He savored the bully’s fear, relishing his helplessness and vulnerability, not daring to say a word to anyone lest he face the blade again. "Now run along," he hissed, the words dripping with contempt, “before you don't have any legs left to take you anywhere at all." Silas was already forming scenarios he could use if the boy stayed any closer, his hand twitching in his pocket. But alas, the boy was gone.

With a flick of his wrist, almost too fast to see, he flipped the blade and slid it back up his sleeve, concealing it from sight once more. He watched the bully flee, his body stiff with terror, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. Silas remained rooted to the spot, his eyes narrowed, observing and waiting.

Once the boy was gone, he paused for just a beat, the tension slowly draining from his body. His attention snapped back to Daria, his grey eyes softening in a way that surprised even himself. The cold, calculating mask that he usually wore seemed to melt away, replaced by a flicker of something almost… tender.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, his usual sardonic tone replaced with a genuine note of concern, his eyes widening as he took her in. He abandoned his guarded place to approach her, his pace measured and deliberate, giving her ample space to retreat if she so desired, although he hoped she wouldn't. He wanted to touch her, yet hesitated, unsure of her reaction. He also wanted to kiss her, for some strange reason, though that would probably not be a good first start, so no. He wouldn’t do that… at least probably.

He was out of the street and into the fire; she was so beautiful.

Daria swallowed, her eyes darting back and forth. "Uh... yeah, I am..." she started biting on her nails, the chipped nail polish on them very visible. "Yep, just alright..." the blush on her cheeks grew in intensity. She wanted to say she loved him, and so much more, but that probably wouldn't make a good impression, would it?

ari closed his eyes slighlty nervous of what he had just witnessed.. when BAM! Outta nowhere ari tripped over his jeans AGAIN! and desperate to grab onto something he tripped into two people.. and made them fall into each other.

"AGH!!... I'm so sorry-" ari speechless as he saw it was the boy who just got done threatening them bullies and worse the other person was the girl..

Silas observed her reaction with his steel-grey eyes slightly widened, a wave of foreign and unfamiliar emotions surging through him. This was not how things were supposed to be; this was not how he was supposed to react. He cursed the blush that was rapidly rising up to paint his cheeks in a hot, mortifying flush. Fuck! He felt that unwanted warmth blossoming not even a centimetre beneath his skin, the blood rushing to his cheeks once more. Panic, raw and visceral, began to claw its way up his throat, threatening to choke off his composure. His heart went wild. He felt like crying, and he hated it. He needed to escape, to put distance between himself and whatever strange magic this woman possessed. He needed to escape the fire that was forming in him. She was a beautiful girl. This wasn't normal-- it was supposed to be him making the girl flustered, not the other way around. Oh fuck, he barely even knew this girl. If anything, she would be running away from him.

"Right," he blurted out, his voice emerging a little harsher and more abrupt than he had intended, the words scraping against the silence like a broken record. His grey eyes, snapping out of their momentary spell, found a strange boy who was observing them, something he did not like. The boy had baggy jeans, messy, fluffy black hair, and a tight black shirt. He wasn't sure why the other party was relevant, but there he was. Silas frowned, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. After taking in this strange boy, he forced himself to drag his attention back to Daria. "Well, I hope that you stay-um, alright," he stuttered, the carefully constructed facade of effortless cool crumbling around him. His words came out jerky and awkward, like a poorly written script, and he had the intention to leave before it got any weirder. "H-have a good day then," he choked out, before turning abruptly and moving to hurry away; he wanted to leave for his dorm room before he got the chance to make a bigger fool of himself. "Bye," he said as a last resort.

He managed only a meagre few steps before disaster struck, a jarring interruption to his hasty retreat. A sudden, unexpected force slammed into him with brutal force, throwing him completely off balance and sending him crashing to the ground. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, expelling the air in a painful huff. A blinding flash of pain lanced through his skull as his head connected hard with the unforgiving stone floor. He went down with a crash. He was sure that everyone in the hallway could hear him, which pissed him off to another degree.

Rage, sudden and volcanic, erupted within him, washing away the last vestiges of his carefully controlled composure. "Get off of me before I make sure you never walk again!!" he shouted. The anger boiling in his veins, Silas’s face twisted into a fearsome snarl. The carefully-constructed mask of charm was gone, replaced with a savage expression that mirrored the darkness he usually sought to contain.

"Bye.." Daria waved shyly, she looked cute in this state to be honest. But Daria still wanted to say so much more to him,so Daria got an idea. She would stalk him silently and slowly.

ari felt so awkward.. for spying, this is bad how do i simply go up to them and ask for help.. ari though cruising his own self for lack of communication.

"WAIT!.. uh ..excuse me could you er.. " ari say his voice getting caught in his throat.. his palm was sweating and his face was red but not with blush just embarssement..

"..could you help me out..I'm new.."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm new as well, I don't know much either." Daria shrugged as she silently beckoned the boy with shaggy black hair to follow her to class. "So, what class are you going to?"

Ari fearks out trying to say something but nothing coming out as he stares at his boy

"WAIT-... I'm sorry I..i.."
Paris black puffy hair went right over his eyes making him not see as his hands tried to figure out the ground from his body before he fell backwards in embarssement "I just wanna know where the main office is..."

Daria looked around the walls of the hall, there was a map of the school plastered to the wall, but it looked faded, as old as time itself. "Um.. what the hell.." she grumbled under her breath as she tried to make sense of it.

Ari's eyes widen This girl is talking to me. ari quickly acts like he never tripped silas and follows the girl
"... uh..I'm not sure...whats your name again.."

"Oh, I'm Daria, Daria Barker. You are?" Daria didn't look at the boy as she continued inspecting the school map.

ari awkwardly scratching his wrist.. a bad habit he gots.

"... so who was your...friend?"