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    1. Aviaire 5 yrs ago
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helloa v i a i r ehello

timezone gmt


@stone's sidekick in persona with boats


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Awkward silence spread over the class. The only noise was of people shuffling uncomfortably in their seats. Spelwel grinned. "Fab! Alright, let's go around the class, one row at a time. Let's start with... Yam! Tell us your name and something about yourself."

"Oh. Okay. Um, my name's Yam Lee-" she began.

"No, no, no! You have to stand up. Come on, don't be shy."

Yam gave him a disgusted look and stood. "I'm Yam, and my favourite colour is blue." She promptly collapsed back into her chair.

"Great! Next is... oh, Herbert, you're actually in. Shame Samuel couldn't join you. You next."

"Wha..?"

"Yes, that's enough. Next..."

"I'm Mook, and I-"

"I'm Jackson! I have the highest Subway Surfers score out of the entire state."

"Sebastian. I play cello."

"My name's Seth! I've got a sister. We're twins."

"Emma Tailler, I have three pet dogs."

"I have art up in three different galleries. I'm Mina Mason, by the way."

"Elizabeth, but call me Ella. I like... horses?"

"Larissa."

"Morgan, and I used-"

"To be ginger,"
Herbert grunted from the front of the room.

Morgan hissed. "No! I didn't!"

"Moving on, moving on," Spelwel sighed. "Neu?"

"My name is Neu Ronald, and I'm the smartest person in this room," he said smugly. A lot of huffing followed.

"Wonderful. Now, moving on," Spelwel continued. He gestured for Porche and James to sit, then continued. "First, I have to give out some things...


there's nothing here, it seems...


...for some reason, that makes you feel relieved.


The sky was grey. So were the streets, paved stones covered in puddles from the rain the night before. The exhaust fumes were grey and the concrete buildings too. Greyest of all was the particular occasion - yes, after weeks and weeks of doing absolutely nothing in particular, the students of Harbour Academy for Gifted Adolescents & Youths would have to return to their desks for yet another semester. The building was small, but it was vast compared to the very few students attending it. There were never more than thirty people in each year. To begin with, attending the school was incredibly demanding. Hefty tuitions only subsidised by excelling in academics or arts - and even then, it was still expensive. Attending Harbour Academy was a luxury few could afford. Very, very few.

There was still some time until the school bell rang. Even so, it seemed like most of the students had already arrived in school, chatting idly while they still could. There was an awful lot to catch up on, and not nearly enough time. The instant that classes started again, it was work, work, work until four in the afternoon. That was, of course, disregarding the obscene amount of extra-curriculars that the students often had. That was the price of attending the prestigious Harbour Academy. On top of tens of thousands of dollars, of course.

The class of 2022 was passing the time in the yard, arranged in small groups across several picnic tables. There were even less than there had been the year before. They'd began their sophomore year with seventeen people. Only thirteen of these people had stayed another year. It wasn't unusual at Harbour Academy. At the end of the year, students had to take even more exams to determine their tuition fees for the next year. All it took was one bad day and suddenly you were paying thousands more than the year before. It was often better to accept the shame and just transfer. At the same time, students tended to join at the start of the year too.

"Are we getting three more this year?" Ella Weider asked. She traced the patterns of her water bottle, staring at it intently.

"Hmm? Yeah, but one of them is an exchange student," came the reply from across the table. Emma Tailler, skimming through a textbook less than an hour before her lesson started. She'd planned to flip through the whole thing before school had started, but she didn't think she could at that rate. "Axel, right? Then one of the other ones is the daughter of that musician. Andrew Pinkerton. And the other one, damn. Can't remember."

Ella laughed. "Don't worry, we'll find out soon enough. Anyway, that doesn't matter. A little birdie told me you have a date this weekend. Em, you gotta tell me..."

Emma's spluttering was quickly covered up by the splitting screech of the school bell. Her saviour. Red-faced, she rushed to her homeroom, while Ella quickly walked after her, laughing heartily. The rest of the class soon followed, taking their time to savour the time they had left.

There were already three people in the classroom as people began to file in. Their teacher, Mr Spelwel - the same as last year, an overly enthusiastic English teacher. Then, two new students. The chatting began to settle down as people began claiming their seats. There was sort of an unofficial seating plan with the old students. Since they had so many lessons all together, it didn't take long until everyone had their 'designated' place. Spelwel clapped his hands together, grinning brightly. Silence fell over the class.

"Alright, everyone! As you know, three new victim- er, students will be joining us this year! Unfortunately, our exchange student won't be in class until next week, but at least we have these two!" He gave them both a thump on the back. One of them, a blonde girl, grimaced at the contact. "Right, why don't you introduce yourselves? Give us your name and... a fact about yourself! You know, icebreakers. Then we'll go around the class and everyone else can do them."

The blonde girl flipped her hair and opened her mouth, about to speak. Then she hesitated, suddenly becoming bashful. "Porche. Porche Pinkerton. Um, it's nice to meet you all. I'm... a vegetarian." She dipped her head in some sort of greeting.

It was enough for Spelwel. "Fantastic! You next," he said, placing his hand on the other student's shoulder with considerable force. "Come on, don't be shy!"

Today's Date:
Tuesday 8th of September, 2020

Today's Weather:
13°C, Cloudy

In The News:
A ridiculously angry review of Ready Player One.

Calendar:
08-09-20 : school begins


Axel Jandad
A foreign exchange student. From France! He's still getting used to speaking, but he's pretty good. He's got messy blond-brown hair and surely muscles under those jackets he never seems to take off - if this was a romance, he would be the love interest.

Ella Weider
A star athlete, through and through. She's tall, towering over most of the boys in your class. HAGAY is a little small to have its own sports teams, unfortunately, so she does all of that outside of school. It's almost impossible to organise stuff with her. She's constantly busy.

Emma Tailler
Possibly the best pianist anyone will ever meet. Reliable and kind, she's a bit of a go to if you ever need anything. If there's anything the whole class has in common, it's that everyone is friends with Emma.

Herbert Baker
Shows up to class maybe once a week and still manages to do better than you on every exam. One of the many mysteries of life is how he hasn't been kicked out yet. HAGAY must be all about results, it seems.

Jackson Burgess
No one's really sure how he's in the school. Out of everyone, he's the most average. His grades are just okay, his family isn't particularly rich. The accepted conclusion is that he does well on tuition exams by luck.

Larissa Woods
If a brick wall was ever turned into a woman, that would be Larissa. Talking to her is drier than the Sahara desert. Somehow, she manages to have friends. Just two, though.

Mina Mason
An art prodigy. Her family is one of the least wealthy in the class, and it's thanks to her talent and work ethic that allow her to continue to study at HAGAY. She's known to become a shut-in during the build-up to tuition exams.

Mook Genera
A doormat. He tends to fade into the background, even though he's one of the best students in the class. It isn't like he's boring, he just lacks presence. Majorly.

Morgan Weld
Not a single photo of him exists where he wears anything other than black. His hair, his eyes, they're all black too. It's rumoured that his natural hair colour is ginger, but no one can prove it.

Neu Ronald
A pretentious prick. Annoyingly, he's not wrong. That doesn't make him any less unlikeable. It's said that he doesn't need glasses and only wears them to look smart.

Porche Pinkerton
Planned to transfer in at the beginning of junior year. The daughter of a pair of well known musicians and known for being stuck up and little else. In terms of academics? Who knows.

Sebastian Roth
Another musical talent, a man of many mysteries as well as many instruments. There isn't really any way to describe him other than 'emo'. He hardly ever talks to anyone except for Seth.

Seth Wall
A friendly (but short) boy. He's pretty middle of the road, but as of late he's began to really try and pick up his grades. No one's really sure what caused the change.

Samuel Funker
The resident crackhead.

Yam Lee
The outsider of the class. Not because people don't like her, but she just isolates herself. Her father is the CEO of a technology company, which is just as well, because her grades have been steadily declining ever since freshman year.
killing people is unreasonable.


killing people is unreasonable.


@Yankee ä̴̢̡̨̢̡̨̧̢̢̢̡̨̧̧̡̢̧̢̨̧̡̧̧̡̡̢̨̡̧̧̮̙͍̻̟̬̖̭͇͇̝̭̩̦̖͎̯͎̰̞̘̙̙͚͓̬̝̮̝̜͎̯̘͔̹͕̞̬̹̭̗̱͉͖̱̭̩̘͎͍̹͕̹̘͓̱̺̥̤̥̤͙̻̬̦̦̗̦̘͎͈̟̱̬̩̮͈̤̯̞̺̫͙̟̥͚͎̦͎̜͇͈̞̘̟̲̻̣̠͇̘̳̙̹̠͔̘̫̝̹̩̗͈̗̹̟̜̹͕̟̘̯͙̦̞̠̮̙͖̤͓̹̗̞̥͙̟͉̹͈͓̪̜͍̯͚͖̫͓͖͉̭̫͇̼̤͚̤̮̞̮̫͍͉̩͚̗͍͖̝̖̪͓̟̣̠̪̺̫̤̺̺̣̹̜̻̞̺̻̣̣͉̠͕̬̠̤̭̣̺̰̫̥͖̟̹̻̖̜̞̮̲̯͚̺̘̱̩̹͕͔͍̻͇̦͙̜̗̯̯͍͈͇̼̹͎̫͓͙̹̻̲̞̫̩̮͓͓́̅͌͊͋͜͜͜͜͜͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅp̶̨̨̧̛͚͍̬̝̠͔̠̪͔̣̜̫̟͔̺͍̀̔̒̓̆́̃̔̽̏̿͗̇̄̓̇̏͗̈́̓̃̑͛͆̐̈́͑̽̂̅̍̆́̅̽͌̆́̏͋̏͌̉͆̐̈̌̐̈́̎̿̓͐͑̀̍̍͋̃̓̆̓̑͋̅̇͗͘̕̕͘͝͠͝͝͠͝͝p̶̢̨̧̢̡̨̛̲̥̹̞̱̯͕̰̠̝̣̪̮͚̲͚͙̝̱̬͕̰̳̰̭͉̙̼̹͓͕̙̲̘̮͚̼͔͔̠̭̪̖͇̺͉̟̤̤̬̻͈̩͎̻̝̾̇̂̍̌̋̋̈̀͗͂͆͐͐̏̿̑͆̀̀̑̋͐͛͋́͑̓̌̀̇͋̈́͑̏͑̀̓͆̌̃͊̑̍̈̿̂̏̈́̆̿̂͆̂̎͒͊͗̇̇́͋̏̈́̏̇̄͛͗̒͑̊̃͒͋͊̒̔̚͘̚̕͘̕͘͜͜͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͠ȓ̴̡̧̡̛̛̼͔̰͍̖̲̦̭̺̟͈̭̫̫̣̥̈́̆̆̒̎̈̔́̀̾̅͌̊͑̍̋̌̄͌̆̐̌̂͆̽͐̑͗̈̊̂̉̓̀̿̎͂̋͒̈́͌̔̓͆̈́̔̏̏̒́͆̎̋̉̅̏̓̌̈́̓̂͒͛̍̔̍̾͛̊́̈̃̌͑̓̓̈́͂̈̔͌͐́͛̈́̒͂́̅͐̇̔͒͆͐̕̚̚̚̚̕͝͝͠͝͝͠ơ̴̢̨̨̧̧̨̡̨̢̢̨̡̢̢̨̡̡̡̡̢̡̢̢̧̡̧̨̧̛̛̟̞̫̞̤͍̺̹̻͓̟̜͓̹̟̫̗̠̳̩̜̬̫͔͉͙̬͇͚̼̠̘̼̫̭̻̳͓̫͈̟̮͈͖͕̰͇͚͙̠͎̯̱̩̝̥̰͕̙̼̭͉͖̬̬̯̤̹̟̞̥͍̝̳̭̪͚̜͔̯͎̱͈̩̥͓͔̟̭͈̻͎̝̬͙̺̯̳̮̳̦̱̤͖̫̳͖̺̣͍͇͖̞̜̠͔̳͖̤̫͖͚̪̺̠̻̘̩͓̺̬̩̱̱̺̮͇̜̼̤͚͕͍̺̟͓̘̘͙͚̟͚̟̳̬̻͔̠̘̪̬͎̳͉͉̝̰̜̠͓̹̰̱͎̮̫̲̥̭̗͈͎̦̞͙̯͔͓͉̼̻͙̭͇̼̭̩͓̳̼̲̳̭̱̥̙̜̟̩̭̪͔̮̣̲̳̣̥̦̭̟̝̦̣͖̲̜̟̙̄͌̈̈́̆̑̌̈̄̿̈̇͑́̂̀̇̔̉̉̅̀̈́̐͑̈́͗͋̔̂̈́̅̾̍́͊̂͐͂̌͌̒͑̅͒̀̽͂͋̉̒͐̾̿̒̀̋̀̈͂̉̐̏́̌͋̾̈̏̊̌̊̋̉̓̌͋͗̂͒̿͑͋̒͋́̆̋̊̂̈́̀̾̀̂͐̅͛͂͒̓̎̆͌̏̔̍̈́̾̈́̅̂͆͊̓͐̀̇͋̈́̋̐̈̂̽̓̌́̃́͑͒̂͒̈́̇̈́̓͛͑̅͛̀̎̌̾͑̂̿͊͐͊̂̀́̈́̓̈́̀̕̚̕̕̕͘͜͜͜͠͝͠͝͝͠͠ͅͅͅͅͅv̴̨̛̛̛̛͇̖̹̩̜̫̖̦̪̙̫̏̀̀͂̃̽̓̓̓̔̇̌̅̃̓̓͗̈́̓̐̉̒̀̄̊̎̽̂̇͋̉̌͆̈́̓̆͊̇̋̑̑̀͒̊͑͒̾̄̉̓̅̓̈́̒͌̓̂̽̿͌̀̔͒͌̾͛̂̆̊́̾̿͌̑̾̉͆͑̊̿͐̓̆̿̿̋̿̈́̇̓̿̋̎̋͑́̊̈́̃̂̅̉͆̈̐̀̓̀̇̆̾́͆̆͂̐͊̐͛̽̆͌̎́́́͑̾̂̂̊̒̋͌͌̐̈́̄̍̃̈́͐͌̃̃͛̎͋͗́͌͆̆̎̇͒̄͑̀̿̈́̏̌͌͆̆͐̋͂̏́̇̏͊̌̈̈́̊̈́͐́̌̈́͐̉̑͑̽̿̉̈́͊͌͑̉̌̌̌̈̍̎̓͒̚̚͘̕͘̚̚̕̚̕̚̚̕̚̚͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝e̶̢̨̨̧̨̡̧̡̡̡̢̡̡̨̡̢̧̧̡̧̧̡̡̨̨̢̨̡̛̛̛̛͓͈͚͎̲̲̠͇̯̜̖̪̪̩̣̟͚̰̹̥̮̟̦͕͇͈͖̞̙̘̲̙͇̭̬͖̻͇̙̮̹̰͙̻͔͙̟̩͓͈̩͓͕͉͓̙̬͎͙̟̰̖̥̖̰̦̹̖͕̼͍̹̙̺̺̫͉̠͓̬̹̝̣̩͕͎̰͖͔͎͙̖̜̦̠͉͈͕͎͓̺̫̱͎̱̗͎̞̙̳̜̦͓̻̹̫̮̫̠͕̰̮͍͚͔͈͎̠̙̠̰̖̳̪͙͙͚̬͓̙̠͍͚͈̥̪̠͖͇̣̜͚͉̥̞̺͖̹̺̘͍̭͉̣̗̻̖͉̮̗͙̣̞͍̙͚̘͔̻̞̖̰̗̭̼̯̭̪̤̘̥͍͉͖͓̯̺͚̯̥̗̙̥͖̭̲͖͍͈̜͎̹͚̱̣͈̫̟̳̗̺̲̟̲̠̮̤̳̮̝̖̘͇̅͌͛̀̎̓̉͆͗͂͂̉̍̅̽͑͐̾̇̾̑͊̾̀̈́͑̔͛͑͑͗͂́̓́͆͛͛͂̒̈́̂͆̊̒̇͆̓͒̐̒͋̈́̐̈̆̈́̈́̆͋̆̀̌͗̌͋̔͆̌̀̔̂́͆̃̓̆́͂̿̂̉͗̐̉̔̄͛̆̄̍́͛̑̌̐͋͊̌͐́̉̓͗͛̈́̾͛̇͌̀͒͌̃̐̂͑̎͂̓̕͘͘͘̕͘͘̚̕͘̚͘͜͜͜͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅd̷̨̨̨̢̡̛̛̛̛̛̖̳̞̞̝̭̣̖̭̭̙̗̘͕͙̥͍̦̪̠̜̹̝̝̮̘̹͎̻̤̞͔̞̳̠̟̠̠̺̣̼̠̭͙̩̘̝̞̰̘̟̦͎͖̮̺͈̦̞͙̣̗͕̩̤̩̭̝͔͔̭͙̤̜̺͖̝̰͔̀̾̏̈͑̓̂͑̇̐̎̓̊͊͒̅͆̑́̆͐̈́͗̈́͒̐͂̋̒͆͐̏̉̿̽̇̎̎̅̐́̋̀̊́̈́́̈̔̊̏̀̾͌̉͒̍̎̅́̋͒͂̿̔̄̐͋͐̓̓̌̈́̿̒̇͗̀̎̏̀͋̔̑̿͐̎̄̆̆̆̃͂͑͛̋͆̃͐͌͂̂̒͆͗̅͒͌̓͒̈́̓̾̉̆́͆̈́̐̀̑̇̅͑̃̈́̀̇̐̀̀̾̌͊̍̏̋̃̋̈͛̅̅̈́͒̾́̌́̓̋̓̃̚̕̕̚͘̚͘͘͘̕͘̚͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠ͅͅ.̸̢̧̢̧̧̢̧̧̨̢̨̢̧̧̨̡̧̨̛̛̛̛̥̭͇͚̝̳̮̮̗̜͇͈̹̤̠̭̲̱͍̠̤̠̟̣̲͉͚̮̙̲͕̮̬̜̘̘̤̻͚̬̟̙̝͍̦̰̤͙̝̩͙̞̱͔̮̤͚̪̟̖͚̳̜̟̫̼̪̲̫̹̩̤̖͇̩͍̣̺̩̳̥̘̠͉͍̥̞̯̺̰̰̥̜̩̞͕͇͚̬̻̻̪̜̜̞̙̠̟͙̰̬̻̗̤͍̜̰̩̦͔̠̟͙̖͕͓̩͓̗̥̗̰͕̗̠̤̪̦͍̞̱̬̲̯̙͍͇̗͕̝̗̯̙̘̞̤͙̠̱̳͇͇̣̘͙̳̳̭̱̝̺̗͎͉̥̝̞͖̬̰̗͉̟̫̫̲͈̬̪̻͉̭̝͕̝̼͖̟̭̣̰̱̜̝̤͚͈̻̫͔̬̫̠̦̺̦̙̞̭̥̤̼͇͍͓͚̤̗̹̟̠̭̣̭̲̞̭͕̫̫͔̖̖̘̞̖͔͎̦̹̗͙̘̪͈͚̱̫̤͉̖̯͈̞͖̻̰͋̈́̈́́̒̉͌̅͑͋̇͛̿̿́̐͗̑̄͐́̈͊̈́̏́̑͗͒͑̓͆͛̆̊̆̓̀́̈̀̂̈́͑͐̾́̓̀̀͐̿̌͐͋͐̓̈́̇̈́̾̆̆̀̓̎͂̀̐̂͌̉̈́̔̑͆̓̉̇̎́̃̅̈́͗̓̑̉̓̋̾̓͛̀̇̄̎̀̽́̾͌̄͂̒̏̄̓̌̅̌̂̈́̇̋̏̊̆̎̊̎̃̀̅̇̐̂̋̀́̍̾͐̈́̈́̂̈́̚̕̚̚̚͘͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅ.̷̢̧̧̧̧̧̧̧̨̨̡̨̨̢̢̧̨̧̨̡̧̡̢̨̡̢̧̡̡̨̡̡̧̨̨̛̛̛̦͈̭̳̝̭̣̝͎̣̠̗̯͔̖͖̜̻͚͕̺͚̼̮͍͔̞͓̹̝̟̺̦̥̺̰͇̰͓̺̦̼͈̤̹̫̗̘̟̦̲̲̜̩̮̭͇̭̰̼̜̩̙͔̻̺͖̝̳̯͈̙̱̮̙͕̥̦̮̦̼̻̱̟̟͚̹̬̖̰͙̳̩̱̼̹͖̬̬̦͓̮̘͖͖̳̭̲̞͓̮̳̳̥̲̩͓̳͍̞͕͍͎̝̖̲͇͇͔̙̟͓͍̰̦͇̲̘̻̺̗͓̞̫̫͇̠̦̫̼͙̠͕̜͕̳͔̱̳̹͕̠̩͍̣̪͇̰̞̝͚͚̖̣̻̤̤͉̲̤̠̞͓͎̪͕͕͖̤̠̤̼̬͎̤̼̠̰̼͔̘͇͓̻̠͇̺͔̜͇̜̜͙̤̳̤̱͙̻̥̪͓̭̖͓̤̳̝̫̼̠̙͙͕̳̥̼̙̒̊̈́̃̿́̇̎͗̆̓͐́̑̓͗̓̀͐̐́͛͊́̀̐̐͛͆̈́̊̾̇̌̌̄̅̈́̅͂̌̐̃͂̉̉̽̔̒͐̋̑͑̾̒̉͑̿̅̀̾̌͛͒͆̊͑̑̋̋́̊̋̓̇̑͐́̆͐̋̽̀̌̆͒̈́͌̀̉͂̓͂̀͒̌̆̊̍͑̌̀̈́̈́̀̓̿̒̎̕̚̕̚͘͜͜͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅ?̸̨̡̧̧̧̛̛͙͕̱̤͉͙̜̥͖̫̲̰̩̬̞̣̰̣͇̭̯̟̤̣̥̜̲͍̝̹̝̯̳͎̦̜͎͇̻̱̜͙̪̪͎̫̼͍̼̯͍̭̬̖͔͍͖̜̭̝͚̙͍̳̳͓̥̝̬̤̤̗̩͚͖͙̗͕̗̣̗̰̗̙̼̼̺̞̪̩̒̈́͂̀̐͛͐̃̂̆̓͑͆̓͌̏̃̄͒̏͊́̍͑̀̐̏̅́̍̈́́̉̈́́̈́̂̍̏̅̃̂̇̓̑̓́͒̈͒̈̎̄̉͑͑͆̋̑̏̋̆̈́̈́̑̍͑̉͊̉̆̈͐̀̓̍͊͊̉͊͛̎͋̍͑͗͊͗̄͆̌͊̐͒̑̄͆͐͋̓͗̿̔̈́̎̔͒̈̋̄̃̆̔͛͋͒̉̒͌́͊̐̀̿̑̓̌̇͑̓͆̀̔̇̀͆̒̾͂̓̿͊̃̎̆͊̔͒͂̄̏̋̍̏̃͗́̍̕̕͘̕̕̕̕͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͠͠ͅͅ well you know that already but
@Stitches yes


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