[h1][sup][center]
[sub][color=black]Jo Montague[/color]
[color=af593e]Jo Montague[/color][/sub][/center][/sup][/h1]
[right][sub]Interactions: /
Mentions: Silas, Lord Poe, briefly also Edward and Selina[/sub][/right][hr][hr][color=lightgray]

The carriage ground to a halt on the gravel, the magnificent St. Eustice’s visage sprawling in front of it. Jo stared at the building through the small coach’s window, heart racing. 

This was it.

His first day at the premier school for the enlightened, which was geared towards nobility and gentry. And here Jo was, a no one with no connections, a person from a lower class – even worse, they were a child of a man some might term novaeu riche.

[color=af593e][i]Papa…[/i][/color]

He leaned on his knees, form hunching over as he scrunched his face in pain. His fists clenched on the fine fabric of his sleet gray trousers. From the well-polished black boots at the bottom to the hair tie at the top, all that Jo had and was had been granted by one man. If it meant his father turned up safe and well, he would give it all up in a heartbeat, his placement at the school included.

The man himself would disagree, of course, but–

A rap on the door and a call from outside startled him. [color=white]“Young master, do you need a hand with your suitcase?”[/color]

Jo straightened up, smacking both cheeks to get his head on right. [color=af593e]“Yes, please!”[/color] he responded.

The coachman opened the doors. He was about a decade and a half older than Jo, his distinguishing traits his curled hair, bronze complexion, and an easy smile. The youth affected a grin as he handed over the suitcase. [color=af593e]“Thanks, Mr. Allen!”[/color] He hopped out of the carriage, and accepted the luggage back as soon as he was on the ground. [color=af593e]“I’d best be going.”[/color]

[color=white]“Aye,”[/color] Allen nodded, but was in no hurry to leave.

Jo’s palm tightened around the handle of their carry-on. [color=af593e]“Take care of things at home, alright?”[/color] The coachman nodded, and might have said more, but the youth turned on their heel, and rushed towards the embellished iron gate before the stinging in their eyes betrayed them. They blinked a few times, regaining their composure just in time for one of St. Eustice’s guards to greet them. Jo’s name was collected, and they were directed inside, only to be met with yet another servant.

An older gentleman, thin, tall, and proper, greeted him with a bow. [color=white]“Welcome, young lord. Please follow me.”[/color]

Jo sensed the fellow was not one much for conversation. They were proven correct, as their questions received brief, polite answers. Nonetheless, they learned the man’s name – Paul Curran – and that he was a long-time employee at the school. He was experienced, refined, and a stickler for formalities. As the young Montague was informed, the headmaster himself would oversee this year’s orientation for the new arrivals. Jo had not expected that at all, but it was fortuitous. Since they were apparently expected, they understood Mr. Paul’s reluctance to let them take in the sights.

Nonetheless, they couldn’t help but wonder at the sheer size and grandeur of the scholarly estate. The suitcase rolled smoothly behind as they traversed the paved paths, not so much as a stray pebble in sight they would have to avoid. The lawn was freshly mown, hedges neatly trimmed, and the garden was so orderly Jo was surprised it wasn’t under lock and key. As they had spotted on their journey here, there were even farming fields close to the school, though they weren’t sure if those were managed by Lord Poe or someone else.

When they passed a large training field, a strange sight caught their attention. A man whose exterior carried a striking resemblance to the mythological dragon backed another student into a wall. The other boy attempted a punch to no effect. After an exchange of words, the boy was released, and ran away. The draconic man went on as if nothing out of the usual had happened – and so did the onlookers. If anything, they greeted him amicably, and did not seem to consider anything amiss.

Huh. Was brawling so common here?

Because they preferred not to make assumptions, they asked, [color=af593e]“Who is that scaly fellow?”[/color]

Curran, who had not paid the situation more than a passing glance, was equally unconcerned. [color=white]“Oh. Mr. Silas Bracken is in Lord Poe’s employ. You needn’t worry, young man, he only attends so strictly to misguided youth.”[/color]

[color=af593e]“How reassuring,”[/color] Jo smiled. [color=af593e][i]In other words, don’t get caught by him. Good to know.[/i][/color] Privately, they noted this Silas as someone to watch out for.

In short order, they were led to the lords’ dormitories, and to a wooden door bearing a plate embossed with their name. [color=white]“Your portmanteau, if you please?”[/color]

Jo, who had insisted on carrying it on their own thus far, handed it over with some reluctance. They took a peek into their dormitory room as Curran deposited their luggage inside. Beige wallpaper, walnut tile floor, beech furniture, an ornamental rug at the foot of the bed, and a window next to it was all they managed to catch sight of before the servant ushered them onwards. They were handed a spare key, of course, and were promptly taken to the school’s main building, down long corridors, past classrooms, a dining room, and a library, then finally to a hall at the end of which the headmaster’s office was stationed. [color=white]“Lord Poe awaits. Farewell, Mr. Montague.”[/color]

[color=af593e]“Thank you, Mr. Curran!”[/color] Jo barely managed a wave as the servant hurried onwards. A busy man, indeed.

Squaring his shoulders, Jo’s palm wandered to his chest. Within the inner pocket of his vest, he carried a missive – the letter which had prompted his father’s departure. Though the authorities had determined it a dead end, it was the only clue he had as to where Edward Montague had last been, and with whom. While officials were too busy with chasing rumours of Dark Embers activity, Jo worried only after his father’s safety.

With a bracing inhale, he approached the headmaster’s office. [color=af593e]“Excuse me…?”[/color] He knocked on the cracked open door. Two pupils who were surely nobles were already inside, but Jo waited for an invitation before entering.[/color]