Edwin's Home for the Extraordinarily Gifted: Season Drei!...
Doctor Edwin Uther was headmaster of what was formally known as Edwin R.G. Uther Boarding Academy. Of course to the students it held another, more lively and possibly more accurate name. The crowd of students awaited eagerly in front of the stage, though it was relatively bare bones compared to something that their now-adult alumni would have known, or perhaps some lesser known seniors who hadn't gotten the chance to prove their worth. For whatever reason, it seemed it would seem this would be a calmer occasion.
Those who from a time that'd passed, like Miss O’Cullen, Professor Hark, Faron, and many others had left to either become staff at the Academy’s sister school, or to roam the world with the knowledge learned here in mind. This left Edwin, and much of the senior staff remaining at the Boarding Academy, along with yet another bunch of rambunctious Extraordinaries. The students below the stage waited eagerly for the appearance of their venerable headmaster, who had stood by them for nearly two decades now. He knew many of them by now, some having been brought in while they were still in elementary or lower. At least one had been left at the school’s gate, and had been raised entirely at the Academy.
It was always a shame, he thought as he moved swiftly to the podium, that many of these children would never leave the confines of the Academy. The world was a cold, harsh mistress to people like the students below. Ostracized, hunted, and killed, the children below him stood no chance at an ordinary life. He reached the podium, and leaned down, the soft autumn breeze rustling the crisp leaves of the trees around the stage. The speech he had spoken many times before surged forth from the confines of his mind, something he had told to many students during his time.
“My dear students,” A chorus of hushed whispers surged through the crowd as teenagers finished their conversations, “Do you know what you are? Of course not. You never had any society tell you what you are, instead, they isolated you like a contagion, and experimented on you as if you were a mere virus. You are no contagion, no virus."
"I trust many of you are familiar with the term 'tragic hero?'" he asked rhetorically, only to a tide of shrugs, “The term 'tragic hero' was coined to fit characters such as Othello, Romeo, Hamlet, Oedipus. You fit their bill, in general terms. Many of their fates you likely already know--however, you are different. You have the chance to grow from the mistakes of your predecessors. You all are imbued with powers that made the very world your enemy, yet it also came with one of the greatest of flaws. You are not meant to be protagonists. You are not heroes. Quod merum est, non modo in exemplum, to be extraordinary is merely to be an example. You are meant to be a goal--an ideal for those around you to follow. You are meant to struggle with your flaw, not fall to it. You were given one singular purpose--to overcome.” He took a deep breath.
“To put it quite simply, you were made to be extraordinary," he said, prepared to finish, when he decided to add a small bit more, "And extraordinary you certainly are. That is all.” He finished, walking off the stage as a hushed silence fell over the student body. A short, neon haired girl flickered into existence behind the podium, to the surprise of many first years below.
“Hello,” she said, in a voice that was impossibly loud for the microphone to produce. “My name is Info, and I am the school’s automated student to staff liaisons.” She gave a slight bow as she spoke, indicating her service to those she spoke to.
“So, yes--I am indeed what you would call an 'Artificial Intelligence'. I will now explain to you all how the student-autonomy system functions here at the Academy.” The screen behind her snapped into life, and one it appeared two names for the seemingly same thing. The Student Council and the Student Body Government.
“Many of you are likely thinking that these two groups are redundant, however, that would be an incorrect assumption. The Student Council is elected by the students, and is in charge of many daughter agencies--such as the Disciplinary Committee--whereas the Student Body Government is appointed through a tournament held the previous year. What the tournament is for, is classified at this moment. You will be made aware, at some point however...” Three pins popped into existence on the screen, a deep red shield with crossed golden arrows and a shining brass ribbon etched with the words ‘Uther Academy,’ in each of the spaces between the arrows, there was a polished letter, and below that, there was a small inscription reading ‘est. 2011.’
“This is the pin the student body is given--do not lose it under any circumstances, as it is the only thing keeping Student Security from removing you from the premises.” She gestured to the next pin. It had the same color as the previous pin, however, it was diamond shaped with the crossed arrows extending beyond the edges of the backing.
“This is the Student Body Government pin, and it identifies your executive officers,” The final pin was circular in nature, and had the word ‘Council’ printed on it.
“This is the pin of the Student Council, they manage the majority of the day-to-day operations, and are selected through the traditional electoral method. That is all from me, I’ll hand it over to your President now,” With a slight bow, Info flickered out of existence.
The room went silent for a few moments, not a word said in fear that whoever was to appear would quickly penalize them for the action. However the curse was broken, and some stifled screams were let loose as he floated from the podium floor. Pale and eerie, one could see the wall behind him as the teen came to a soft landing, a *tap* echoing through the auditorium. Color soon returned to him, starting from his shoes until it reached his head, revealing his true appearance; tan with jet-black hair, he had a rather fit body and a warm smile on his face. He wore the basic uniform, with a striped blue and white tie identifying him as a third year. Upon the left of his chest was the diamond shaped pin of the Student Body Government.
Those who had met with their president from preceding years would be surprised to find a gentle looking fellow like him taking to the microphone.
“Good morning, underclassmen,” he greeted, an unmistakable British accent flavoring his words, “My name is Harits Collins. I suppose I'd have to deliver a welcoming speech...” He then winked, a grin growing on his face. This confused some of the ones sitting in the front, who were ready for yet another lecture from this person in power.
“But I suppose we can save that for another time. Welcome to EHEG.”
He then walked off the podium, of which was soon replaced with the head of the light music club. Of course, every year the induction would start with clubs showing off their skills, trying to entice the students watching into joining. If they didn't, there wouldn't be a next generation, now would there? However, as the rock music began, this was also a time for people to start chatting, orienting themselves with new friends, or perhaps jumping to the tune. There was a plethora of other things to do before classes began tomorrow, like touring the school grounds, checking schedules, maybe find something to eat? For certain, today wouldn't be educationally effective, but the students would be able to settle in nicely.
