When Darkness Falls [IC/Closed]

[Lost Americans]

It was not that Jillian had not been slapped before – she was a girl – girls slapped, as evidenced by her previous actions. And it was not even that she had not been hit by a male before – her brother, playing, her father, as punishment for some wrong when she was a child…

But as a adult, slapped by a male adult, she had never even contemplated that he might hit her back, in anger, not in self defense (and the idea that a boy would defend himself from a girl to the point of striking her (or even need to defend himself to that extent) was… unheard of, in Tartarus).

She took the hit, of course. There was no dodging it. She did manage to turn with it, a little bit, but the blow drove her off her feet back into her chair. By Cerberus, he’s strong! Despite her best efforts, tears welled up in the corner of her eyes from the pain, but she surged to her feet at his words. He wanted to see her back up her threats?

Maybe he would like to see his balls mashed to a pulp under her boot heel…

But no, he was restrained by some random person Jillian did not know, and the foreign boy with the funny teeth was between them anyway.

There was talking, the cook, the teeth boy, and then the naked asshole, and Jillian began to giggle as the adrenaline surge of anger and pain left her, through her cheek continued to throb as she sank back into her chair. “If we’re done throwing each other under the bus,” she added after Umbert finished, “I would suggest that we forgive each other hasty words spoken or actions made in either jest or anger, then each of us separately try to comprehend the new and potentially stressful social situation we find ourselves in.”

She stood, ignoring the darkening of her cheek where she had been struck. “Come on, Remi. Let’s leave the foreigners to themselves.”

[Midlonia]

Once the Goth girl starts giggling and talking about going, Chris shakes his head and turns on his heel. He nods to Remi and the other girl, before leaving and going up to his room. He pinches the bridge of his nose, quite hard, and makes sure his door is fully shut before opening his fridge and grabbing one of the green glass bottles and swigging deep. He rams the stopper back in and shuts the fridge with a little more force than he intended. Wincing, he moves from there and opens his wardrobe, pulling out and throwing onto the bed his compression clothing.

He changes quickly, putting his clothing neatly back onto their hangers and changing his trainers into a white running pair. Opening his fridge again he finds a sports capped water bottle and he tucks it into a convenient loop which is part of the design. After the incident in the dining room and his reaction, he has a lot of energy to run off and the grounds seem to be the perfect place to do so. He’d already walked through some of them on his way there, and from what he had seen from his window, it’d be a pleasant experience and a good place to blow off some steam.

He uses the stairs to warm himself up slightly, fast walking down the stairs from his room to the foyer. Crossing it quickly he steps out of the manor house and glances back at it. The architecture was a little like home, and the dark stone seemed stained slightly from age old pollution, yet after everything that had happened so far...

Well, it’s an experience, let’s put it that way. He thinks to himself.

He sets off at a steady run, taking a wide loop along the edges of the gardens, following the pathways through the pleasure grounds. They had been long ago laid for people like the Earl to take a gentle constitutional after lunch when the weather was fine. His pace remains fairly decent as he heads on past the old maze, he has to move off of the path slightly and duck once as an overgrown part of the hedge manages to stick out from the rest to hang over the path.

His pace picks up a little now and he finds himself calming down considerably, burning off the energy and anger, he’s practically sprinting along the fence at the edge of the property, he frowns when the path clearly carries on into the forest and onwards, towards somewhere else, possibly the lake he had glimpsed through the trees. The fence prevented him from going further and instead he continues to follow the fence, driving himself off the path and along it, before looping round and rejoining another that takes him on towards the Rose Garden and the house.

[Schadow]

As Chris reached the end of the fencing his pace slowed down slightly, his heavy sprint had done the trick in burning off the aggressive energy he had been feeling, and now he was back to a better more steady pace. The young man was perspiring fairly heavily by now and he knew it’d be better, after a couple of hundred extra yards to make sure, to begin cooling down. He dropped to a rapid walk by the time he reached the Rose Garden and he ran a hand quickly across his forehead.

Maeve was sitting with her watercolor pad propped against her legs, her knees drawn up slightly and both feet firmly on the ground, a bit apart. All the better to make an impromptu easel of herself while she worked. She’d started from a point where the house could be seen from behind some of the flowers, and was picking and choosing which elements to include as she lightly sketched in shapes with her brush.

The little flask and small portable set of paints sat to her right side, and she was thoughtfully moistening the tip of her brush by placing it in her mouth out of idle bad habit. The movement of Chris caught her attention, and broke her focus entirely when he happened to stop more or less in her line of sight.

Spotting movement out of the corner of his eye as he stops his head turns quickly to register what it exactly is there in the garden. He frowns for a second then tilts his head, he glances back towards the house, then back to the hooded figure with what seemed to be a pad of some kind. Panting slightly he brings his breathing more under control and fast walks into the garden proper taking the short set of stairs up into it two at a time. The figure remains hood up and he frowns again a little at the way they are hiding their head.

“Hi, hope I didn’t spoil anything.” Chris says a little uncertainly.

She removes the paint brush from her mouth, and pushes her hair out of her face a little with the back of her hand, looking up at him with an easy smile. “Nah, just trying not to get rusty, really. Pretty, though, isn’t it?” she asks, nodding in the direction of the house.

“Weirdly like home.” Chris says nodding in the direction of it as he grabs the bottle from behind him and then uncaps it, taking a decent swig. “The grounds here are definitely nicer though.”

“Don’t believe we’ve met,” the girl says, twisting the brush back up into its handle and capping it, then offering her hand from where she’s sitting. “Maeve D’Arcy, definitely not local, hailing from a place called Schadow. Town of Winterglen, though I doubt you’ve heard of it.”

“Afraid not, Chris Arthurson, not a local either.” He takes her hand and he shakes it. “Chris Arthurson, from The Greater Kingdom, but a bit in the North West called Porphyria.”

Maeve’s grip is comfortably firm as she shakes hands. “Can’t say as I’m familiar, but that’s not surprising. We’re a bit out of the way and quiet when it comes to a lot of things, I’m finding. Pleased to meet you, Chris. You’re welcome to cop a seat if you’d care to.”

“I might do five minutes, thank you.” Chris says as he sits down and crosses his legs easily, one hand running along his leg at the muscle. “It’s been the same in the Greater Kingdom for a while too, but all that’s changing now, so.” He gestures to the house. “Here I am in a foreign land studying. So what’re you studying? I’m doing Business and English Literature.”

“Art, mostly, but that’s just my focus. I imagine I’ll find other things as I go along,” she answers, pushing back her hood and shaking out her red hair, then again brushing it out of her eyes. “Good luck with the business end of things. Can’t say as I’ve a head for it, but the literature sounds interesting. I’m finding it nice just to be somewhere else with new things, new people, all of that. Turns out the world’s bigger than I’d imagined back home.”

“It’s... different.” Chris says after a rather obvious pause and a glance to her with his most relaxed smile since he had arrived. “The literature side of things I think will be more interesting than the business bit. Whole new place with all its own books to read. I spotted a couple of libraries too in the house. I just had to do the business bit for my dad to fund me doing a foreign university.” He frowns a little. “I also find that there are very different individuals around here too. Just a minute ago I was being threatened by some naked savage, now I’m sat down here in what looks like a garden back home.”

“What the kid in the sheet?” Maeve asks, stifling a giggle. “He didn’t seem all that aggressive when I was there, but then it seems there’s a number of ah … different sorts here. Did you catch sight of the military lass? And the one with the abundance of black? Gods, one of the girls I was with lit up, then put out her smoke on the table.”

The young woman shakes her head in mild disbelief. “All sorts, it is. Going to be an interesting year, no doubt. So tell me - your home. Like this, you say?”

Chris just nods sympathetically as Maeve lists various people that he had spotted so far. It was going to be an experience, he thought to himself.

“Sort of.” He says nodding to the house. “Arthurson is one of the old families, well, not as old as some, but still.” He sniffs a little and takes another drink. “We’ve got slightly bigger grounds and a slightly smaller house. I just find it weird seeing the same style here.” He smiles again and nods, running a hand through his hair. “How about you?”

“Well, some feels familiar enough,” she says, nodding at the grounds in general. “And yet, different. Winterglen now, that’s nestled in a forest up towards the mountains. It’s not terribly large a place, and old is relative I suppose. We’ve got our share of history and the like, though much of it seems twisted up in myth as well. The nation as a whole tends to leave well enough alone, and our neighbors have seen fit to return the favor.” Maeve shrugs and smiles, folding up her watercolor pad now that it was more or less dry, and setting it aside as she relaxes into a slouched sort of cross-legged position, turning a bit to better talk with Chris.

“It’s a nation alright, but we tend to regionalize a bit. I suppose you could say where I’m from it’s a bit more rustic. Natural. The gardens here, and the grounds, they suit me fine.”

“I enjoy being able to get out into grounds like this.” Chris says with a nod to the grounds. “There’s a bit of a forest back there,” he points over his shoulder. “But it’s been fenced off. Wonder why.” He pauses, purses his lips a little and sniffs. “I can’t say the same for my country. There’s been a lot of aggressive expansion recently. Two other countries just got absorbed into the Greater Kingdom, but then both did attack us. I’d prefer a quieter life and be able to live instead of worry about going somewhere and getting hurt.”

“Sounds unpleasant, that,” Maeve observes, looking at Chris a bit more closely, quietly considering. “Sorry to hear. War sounds as if it’s at least twice as awful as it looks. I can’t remember the last war we’re to have had. Far distant past, and even then, was more clannish in nature, to my understanding. Hopefully things will settle sooner rather than later, and then you won’t have to worry so much.”

“As for the fences here, well …” Maeve smiles a bit mischievously, cocking her head to the side. “Can’t say as I’ve ever come across one what wasn’t meant to be climbed.”

“Usually a good sign of likely buckshot... but I didn’t see any signs warning for that.” Chris smiles a little wider. “I might have gotten in enough trouble for one day however.”

“I rather doubt that shooting up the students is on the docket for the groundskeepers,” she teased. “Tomorrow’s another day though, and you never know what it might bring, hey? Not like we’re in any rush to see everything. Ample time.”

Chris laughs. “I dunno, I wouldn’t put it past some places I’ve heard of.” He stretches his arms up above his head and groans. “So aside from artwork you into anything else?”

Grinning, Maeve gestures at his compression clothing, which she’d noticed right off didn’t leave much to the imagination. “Was thinking to ask you the same, given you look like you’ve been training up for something serious. I enjoy sports m’self, but I’ve never gone far with it. Lack the ‘go for the balls’ competitive spirit, so I’m told. I play for fun.”

“Oh, it’s just usually a good idea to keep somewhat in shape.” He nods to the house, and runs a hand over his chest and chuckles. “Seeing as I live in a place like that, never a good idea to have a sedentary lifestyle. I do a tiny bit of free running, Porphyria’s a good place for it with all the Gothic architecture. Mostly for fun too.”

“What, the jumping about on buildings and throwing yourself off stairwells and the like?” she replies, still grinning. “That’s quite the hobby, Chris. Never tried anything of the sort. It isn’t the heights or anything that bothers me, mind. It’s the sudden stop at the bottom.”

Chris laughed, quite a loud and happy one, with his mouth quite wide, forgetting himself as he actually felt quite relaxed out here after a jog. “Well, so long as your balance is ok and you have a bit of upper arm strength you should be ok. I totally blame the Templar’s Oath games, they got me into it and I took it up a little bit as something to do instead of just jogging.”

“Oooh,” Maeve said, catching sight of his elongated canines, her eyes widening slightly. “Ye’ve got a pair like my cousin Seamus there - the teeth and all, only sharper. He used to do tricks with cans at home. We’d pop open a cold one, he’d bite into his and suck it dry. We used to tease him something awful, but he always just played it up.”

She realized belatedly it might be a sore point, and sheepishly smiled, giving him a sidelong look of apology. “And of course there I go running my mouth again without thinking. Sorry about that, just reminded me is all. Hope it’s not a sore spot with you.”

Chris’ teeth clacked shut the moment she mentioned them and he seemed a little embarrassed by it all.

“Oh, no, usually it’s the other way around.” He says. “It’s a kind of... quirk Porphyrians have generally.” He licks his suddenly dry lips. “High protein diet. I, um, don’t worry about it.” He tries a slightly brave smile. “So your cousin uses them to suck dry beer cans?” He frowns and tilts his head back a little in thought, his top lip bulging slightly as he ran his tongue over them. “Never thought to use them that way before...”

“Now, don’t be feeling poorly on account of my bad timing,” Maeve said, reaching over and instinctively patting him on the shoulder. “It’s a quirk of Seamus too. Just how they grew in, bit long, and emphasized and what not. Nothing to be ashamed of, and like I said, he always turned it to fun. No need to hide either, Chris.”

“It’s a pleasant reminder of home for me if nothing else - though my cousin wasn’t nearly so filled out as you. Scrawny, wiry thing he was,” she continued, smiling warmly. “Don’t give it a second thought.”

Chris looks over with a crooked smile. “There’s more to it than that, sorry. Back home it’s usually a good idea not to remind everyone where you’re from all the time.” He glances back to the house for a moment and then lets out a deep breath. “I keep forgetting I’m not at home I guess.” He smiles a bit more confidently this time. “Though I do want to try that beer can trick now.”

“That’s the spirit,” Maeve says, grinning broadly, and clasping his shoulder with a bit more confidence. “Damn right you’re not at home, and I say take advantage of that. It’s a fresh start all around here, if people are smart enough to take it. There’s a good many come with a load of baggage from what I’ve seen. Me, I’m having none o’ that. Folks can let it trip them up if they choose, but I’d just as soon relax, have fun, learn, and see where it all takes me.”

“I might need help with that, then.” Chris says as he throws himself back onto the grass and puts his arms around the back of his head. “I’m still too much in ‘well behaved’ mode where it all matters not just to your immediate people but people in the wider nation.”

“Fair enough. But hopefully you’ll be able to be yourself all the same - though misbehaviour needn’t be a test of that either way, mind. I’d just as soon not get sent home with a black mark on my record, but I’m sure there’s some harmless enough exploring one could get to without causing too much of a fuss,” Maeve answers, watching him with a casual appreciation as he stretches out.

He smiles. “Well, not black marks per se, but stuff I wouldn’t have considered previously, like jumping fences to go explore forests.” He glances up to her and his eyes run from the grass up to her face and he quirks an eyebrow to her. “You know you have really nice eyes from down here. I can see them from under your hair.”

Her cheeks flush slightly, and her grin widens again as she flips her hair out of her eyes again, which is only partially successful as usual. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were almost flirting with me, Mr. Arthurson. You’ve got a nice pair yerself, mind. Goes nicely with the rest o’ the package.”

“Y’know Miss D’Acy, I just might.” Chris laughs again. “See, that’s really why I do the exercising. Might have a lot of rules and expectations to follow back home, but it doesn’t hurt to have a decent self to offer on first impressions.”

Maeve laughs right along with him at that, gently nudging him in the ribs with one curled knuckle. “Ah, I see how it is then. Got to have a pretty package for all the planned conquests, is it? You keep showin’ yourself off like that and you’ll be beating ‘em off with a stick. Just ah … don’t go quite so far as the young man in the sheet. Most women I know like a bit o’ mystery, at least at first.”

“I don’t think I’ll be like the traditional nobleman, aiming for as many notches in the bedposts as possible.” Chris says shaking his head. He then shudders at the thought of the nude savage. “Though I will keep that for my bedroom only. Some bits of my culture seem sensible to keep for the good of everyone else then.”

“Aye, and from the reactions we’ve seen there, likely best not to spook the natives. I thought the good Mrs. Longstreet was about to go into conniptions on the spot for a moment there,” she says, giggling again in spite of herself. “That bit ‘o ‘culture’ seems more or less standard, save for the one lad, and I’m sure he’ll figure it out in time.” What she thought of his reassurance that he’d no intention of racking up a count, she kept to herself, though her smile had increased at the mention.

“Oh, I’m honestly not sure about him.” Chris shook his head. “He sort of barged his way into talking to me, and two of the local girls here. One called Remi and the girl all in black. Acted rather... oddly, threatened me and then struck the girl in black after she slapped him when he suggested she move to another table. I’ve read about people like that, usually in quaint guides on highly isolated native tribes in Akuma.”

Both brows arch up at the mention of violence, and Maeve ponders it all for a moment before replying. “Well … if that’s so, ‘praps it’s the noble background as ruffles him a bit, as a thought. And the strikes? Maybe I’m a bit backwards but I figure if you smack someone else, you’d best be expecting to get smacked in return. I don’t think it’s right to hide behind one’s gender in situations like that. Not that she mightn’t have been prepared to see it all through. She seems fairly capable, and I oughtn’t pass judgment, not knowing her.”

“Probably my views are the backwards ones, you should never strike a woman. No matter what.” Chris says shaking his head and shutting his eyes as if the thought truly disagrees with him. “Either way I would rather avoid him as often as possible after getting that sort of experience from first impressions.”

“People is people, Chris. We’re all different. And that’s fine, really,” she says gently, then again tries to lighten the mood. “Don’t tell me you’ve never met a woman who didn’t at least inspire the thought of a swift kick in the pants. I’ve known several who could have done with a proper beating, but hey.”

Chris opens his mouth to reply and then clacks his mouth shut again and purses his lips in thought. “I just... don’t think it’s right.” He says rather lamely.

Her mischievous side was well and truly showing at this point, and she couldn’t resist further teasing, resorting to the playful roughhousing she’d engaged in with both older brothers, and friends, not thinking much further of it than that. She set aside her brush and pad, and swung one leg over his waist, placing her hands firmly on his forearms and pinning him where he lay. She gave him an arch look from under her brilliant red hair, grinning impishly down at him. “Not even if she tried taking advantage of your chivalrous nature?”

It’s Chris’ turn for his cheeks to flush when she pins his arms to the grass and throws a leg over him. “Well...” He manages after a moment or two. “I’d find a different way then. Non-violent.”

Maeve leans in slightly, her hair framing her face, then lets go with one hand and gently tweaks his nose. “You’re an interesting one, Chris. I think I like you.”

With that same mischievous grin, she lets him up, getting to her feet herself, and offering him a hand in return. “I’m glad you interrupted the sketching. Talking with you’s been far more interesting.”

“As it has been with you.” He takes her hand and with a wider grin suddenly pulls her down onto the ground, his other hand slips up under her arm and tickles her armpit through the hoodie.

She lets out a little shriek of surprise, and collapses into giggles and writhing to get free of the tickling. “So much for chivalry!” Maeve teases back, launching into her own offensive, trying to see if he had any weaknesses in that regard.

“Non violent.” Chris grins before he also starts laughing, his more exposed skin proving the weakness, arms and most of his legs being out in the air due to the jogging kit. An arm slips around Maeve’s middle and he pins her gently in place and holds up his free hand to stop her and he grins to her. “Why Miss D’Arcy, I do think I like you too.”

Breathing a bit more heavily from the teasing wrestling, Maeve looks up at Chris, still grinning. “Have a care, Mr. Arthurson. It’s said we gingers have the ability to steal souls, you know. You wouldn’t want to put yours at risk so soon into the semester, would you?”

“I wouldn’t worry about my soul.” Chris says with a chuckle. “If you’d heard some of the stories about Porphyrians you’d be running worried for yours.”

“Well it’s just as good I haven’t, because you don’t scare me in the slightest,” she replies archly. “I grew up with a pair of older brothers, after all. And a good number of other male relatives. I can take care o’ myself, just fine.”

Chris stands this time and bows slightly, offering his hand to her. “Now I can be chivalrous again too.”

“A man of many talents, I see,” she says, accepting the hand up, and lightly brushing off her hoodie and ragged jeans. “We’re off to an interesting start here, no doubt about it.”

“I would say so.” Chris says, and he then plucks a strand of mown grass from her red hair. “Perhaps we should...” He pauses a little and tilts his head. “Go to dinner some time?”

“I think I’d like that,” she says, smiling warmly. She pauses then, to pick up her small paint kit, the brush, and the pad, tucking the latter under one arm, then looking back to Chris. “It’s not as though we won’t be able to find one another, being in the same house and all.”

“Well... I could always ask for your room number instead of a phone number.” Chris says with another slight grin.

She tosses her hair out of her eyes again out of habit, putting her weight on one leg and cocking her hip jauntily to one side. “You aren’t supposed to be nosing about the girl’s floor anyways, not that you’d be able to miss it. I intend to put up something artsy on the door. I guess you’ll just have to figure it out, won’t you?”

Chris folds his arms behind his back and smiles. “Very well, I’ll consider it a quest, I’ll find your door to take you to dinner.”

“Then I’d best get back and finish sorting things out, hadn’t I? Good luck in your quest, Sir Knight - I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Maeve sketched an awkward sort of courtesy, then backed up a few steps and waved before turning to the house and making her way back to it.

Chris grinned and bowed once again as she left. He chose to remain in the rose garden for a while, before he himself headed back towards the house.

When he reached his room he changed quickly, he went to his desk to put back on the thin triple linked silver chain with a small cross on it. It was an old item of his and not particularly precious but he had had it a long time. He muttered to himself as he checked all around his desk, and then under it before groaning in frustration.

Chris grumbled and checked under his bed, the window, the wardrobe even and the clothes he was wearing earlier, eventually he had to give up and he grumbled, trying to distract himself by playing more of his game.

[Gehenna Tartarus]

Lost Americans & New Edom

Mrs Bennet, the old cook, listened patiently as first Chris and then Umbert described things from their point of view, both accusing the other of being the instigator of the incident. She looked over at Jillian to see if she had anything to add, and to make sure the girl was okay. She had been about to open her mouth to reply, when the first boy who had spoken, just walked away without waiting for a response. Obviously where he came from, respect was something that was not part of his culture and she watched in silence as he wandered over to the door without even a backward glance.

“I was about to say to the three of you that you are all young adult and the behaviour that has been displayed here today is reminiscent of children,” she said, looking between the two, even though the rest of the students were not part of the mess, she still managed to include them in her speech. “People will always be cruel and unkind, and while you may think violence is the answer, it is not. Animals fight to get their point across, humans have been given the ability to talk things through. And while words can be hurtful, they are also just words and can easily be walked away from. Well, it seems that things have run their course and it seems that you are both willing to move on and be the adults I assumed you were.

“Remember, you have all got to live in this house together, and while it is a pretty good size, it is not big enough to hide from each other forever,” she continued. “Let this be the end of the troubles and let’s see if you can all get along now. Any repeats of this behaviour and I will not be so forgiving.” She smiled at the two and then waved the rest of the students to resume their lunch.

Remi smiled sadly at Um, sorry that things had gotten a little out of hand, feeling that she probably should have changed the subject rather than ask whether the others would go naked. It had seemed like such an innocent question, that she had assumed would have led to people laughing about their experiences or views. Next time she saw a naked guy in a public place, she would talk about the weather. The weather was always a safe topic. She would have to catch up with him later and apologise for her involvement in the whole mess and hope that she could straighten things out, and hope that he did not hit her too.

“We should probably put something cold on your cheek,” she said, as she guided Jillian towards the door of the dining room.

As the cook spoke, Dylan’s brother released his grip on Um’s arm, as did the other student who was holding him. “Are you okay, man?” he said, as he took a step back.

The younger boy walked up to his brother and Umbert, a stunned expression on his face. “What was that all about?” He asked, as he took in the other boy’s state of undress, pretty sure he had been dressed when he spoke to him earlier. “Are you sticking around for some food or are you…ah…” He could not help but ask. “Why are you wearing a sheet?”

His brother slapped him on the shoulder. “I think he needs to go find some clothing first,” he said, grinning at Um. He had seen streakers running around the campus and across football pitches, but he had to admit it was a first to see one in the dining room. “Put some pants on and you can join us for food, if you want to.”


Zepplien

Mrs Longstreet watched as Brisco wandered off to find her room, a little worried about the girl and how she was going to fit in with the rest of the students. The uniform was going to make her stick out like a sore thumb and she certainly had an attitude that was far removed from anyone she had met before. She could not understand why someone like her would be sent to Tartarus to go to university. But that was not Mrs Longstreet’s concern, she just had to maintain the house and ensure that everything was running smoothly and that the students had a point of contact if they needed anything.

Brisco would have no difficulty finding her room, which was up the first flight of stairs and along a corridor. When she entered the room, she would find a black and grey tabby stretched out on her bed, its head raising for a moment to look at her, before it flopped back into its previous position, in no mood to move from its comfy resting place.

[Zepplien]

When Brisco opened the door the first thing she thought was space, so much space in her room, even compared to her 'luxurious' accommodations back in the homeland. The second thing was luxury, though probably for most students the room was bare and boring, she thought it was wonderful, if not a tad bourgeoisie. She set her cases down, opening one as soon as she set it down, and retrieving a large video camera, and loading a memory card into it. She put it over her shoulder, and turned it on, she hooked up a shotgun mic (records only in a narrow cone) and a headset to herself. She then taped her room for the first time, showing it off and telling the film "These are my amazing and bourgeoisie accommodations that apparently everyone gets." she first noticed the cat on her bed, and squeaked a little. She filmed it for a second, then turned off her camera, and bolted out the door, stopping only long enough to slam the door.

She rushed down the stairs and practically flew into the dining room. She panted "Gun! I need a gun! There is this, small creature on my bed. It is quite terrifying." she was speaking to anyone in particular, she just figured any student body would be well armed, like hers was. She decided to turn her camera back on, in case something happened other than the shooting of the creature that occupied her bed like a dictator, of her bed. She shook her head, she had always sucked at metaphors.

[New Edom]

After a bow in the direction of the cook, Um nodded politely to Remi, and said, politely, "Thank you," to Dylan. He was baffled by this whole incident, and understood the Tartarians no better than ever. How could words be without harm? Words were powerful! Was it not written "...and God spake" and that life began? Were words not exhortations and promises? To say that an insult had no power...he inclined his head to Dylan. "I'll be back shortly, and we can talk as we eat."

He was also confused--was he not to defend his honour nor have any recourse? What kind of place had he come to, where he had to abide in peace regardless of how he was treated? Discipline he quite well understood but this was merely confusing. He went up to his room and changed into a pair of jeans, a sweater, and running shoes, and came back down, selecting some other food, a sandwich and some tea, and joined Dylan and his brother. He seemed somewhat subdued now. "Hello. Well...I think I misunderstood some things. It's hard to explain. Going naked is simply not a real concern where I come from, and this is the first time I've ever been here. No one seems to understand that I was confused." His tone gave voice to some of his frustration at this. "And I am quite happy to dress to please others." he shrugged and bit into his sandwich.

[Midlonia]

Chris had changed clothing almost as soon as he was back in his room, this time opting for a simpler tracksuit that he wore when he wanted to be comfortable, it was black with silver edging following a nice set of national colours.

Despite this he was intending for a shower shortly before considering at least saying hello to Maeve and finding her room. Before that however, he felt the need to grab another drink from the dining room, it seemed there were flavoured drinks there and he was stuck with bottled water and... medicine in his room for now. He’d barely gone down a floor when the military girl had gone racing past him. Sensing something wrong he picks up the pace a little and finds her gabbling about needing a gun, causing both his eyebrows to shoot up.

“I don’t think anyone has any guns here, Miss.” He says softly as he tries to gain the girl’s attention and calm her down. “What are you on about a small creature on your bed? Can you describe it?”

[Schadow]

Maeve was humming tunelessly by the time she reached her room again. The day hadn't gone at all as she'd expected. Then again, she wasn't really certain what she had expected it to be. New people, new places, a feeling of familiarity among all the utterly unfamiliar places, faces, and accents.

Chris had quite literally come out of the blue, and she wasn't sure quite what to make of it all, aside from someone who seemed fun having asked to see her later for dinner at least. She didn't really consider herself to be all that pretty, having grown up playing with the boys and seeing them more as friends than anything else. Not that she wasn't interested, mind. They'd just seemed to think of her as one of the guys while involving themselves with the more pert and pretties.

She had plenty to do before she even started thinking about settling down, so the overall lack of dating hadn't really been a problem. She had no lack of friends after all, and had never felt up to trying to compete with the more popular types - which caused them no end of frustration. She refused to get dragged into debates over who did what with whom, and why she felt no issue in talking to their boyfriends as she didn't consider herself in the running, but still. The petty jealousies did get tiresome.

After putting her art supplies down on the desk, she walked over to the mirror, shivering slightly. Was there a draft in the room? Maeve was just giving herself a cursory examination, flipping her hair back out of her eyes again, to see if she could catch a glimpse of whatever it was Chris seemed to have seen in her, when she noticed a smudge on the surface.

Or rather, thought she saw something written there, quickly fading.

The hell ...

There was some sort of ruckus going down the stairs, and she glanced towards her door in distraction. When she looked back, there was nothing. And breathing warmly on the cool surface revealed not a hint.

Maybe she'd just been seeing things, she thought with a shiver. Her mind had been off in other places, after all. And who would be pranking already in any case? They hardly knew one another. Unless one of the girls had taken offense to her earlier, but still ... She moved away and lay down on the bed, one leg crossed over the other, pondering the past while and looking occasionally over at the mirror curiously.

[Gehenna Tartarus]

Everyone

Kyle Stommer had been sitting in the billiard room, warming himself by the fire, having no luck talking to the guy in the chair next to him. When the two boys finally finished with the billiard table, he stood up and began racking for a game, but before he could ask the boy nearby, he got up and left, leaving just Kyle and another boy, who was sitting quietly. When Kyle had vacated his seat, the other boy looked up from his book and then refocused on it, obviously indicating that he was in no mood to play either.

He waited a moment to see if anyone else would come in, who might be interested in a game, chalking his cue thoughtfully as he looked towards the door. He could hear voices in the next room and the soft sound of the television. He covered the short distance from the table to the door and poked his head through, seeing if there was anyone he could tempt to play, but the room was empty, as he caught a glimpse of the two guys who had been in the room earlier, disappearing off into the hallway. Shrugging he walked back into the room, shivering slightly as he did.

Bending over the table, he aimed his cue against the white ball, sending it flying down the length, smacking hard into the triangle of balls at the bottom. They broke apart and raced around the table, one aiming for a pocket, which Kyle watched with interest, only for it to run out of steam on the edge. Perhaps a heavy stamp of his foot would have sent it in, but he was hardly hustling for money. He walked around the edge, getting ready to hit the ball into the pocket, when he breathed out, a cloud of vapours showing near his mouth. He stood upright and huffed a breath, watching another cloud appear. He looked at the fire and then back to the table. The hairs on his arms were beginning to stand on end.

The boy who had been reading, closed his book and placed it on the chair, before walking over to the fireplace, picking up a poker and prodding at the wood that was resting on the top, glowing brightly orange. The more he poked, the more Kyle was certain that the room was growing chillier. He was about to step over and give the boy a hand, when the fire in the grate bellowed in size, filling the whole of the fireplace. Kyle looked surprised by the motion of the flames, but the boy seemed oblivious to what had happened and continued to poke away at it.

“Hey, I don’t think you wan…” Kyle began, when the fire bellowed again. He watched in horror as the flames grew bigger and bigger, reaching out its orangey red fingers, reaching out towards the boy. A scream filled the room, one that Kyle would later realise had escaped from between his lips. The fire had blossomed out, engulfing the boy with the poker, who had been forced back into the chair, his clothing burning brightly.

Kyle stood transfixed for a moment, not sure whether he could help the boy or whether to run for help. He screamed again, something that sounded like help, as the flames flickered around the boy, who was now trying to get to his feet, the old chair already catching alight. The smell of smoke and burning flesh was already filling the air, when Kyle raced over to the door and smashed his fist against the smoke alarm, as the detector in the ceiling had not reacted to the smoke that was now billowing up from the burning boy.

The other student was now on his feet, screaming as the flames licked at his flesh, he tried to walk towards Kyle, but he stumbled and fell against the felt of the table, his chest resting against it for a moment, as he pushed himself up and then dropped onto the floor. Unable to watch any more, Kyle raced out of the room, through the common room, barely able to look back as he ran, screaming for help all the way.

[Solont]

Michael had himself just been thinking about checking out the billiards hall on his way down the stairs. The sudden chill that had beset the building had only grown more intense, and he was starting to wonder if someone had left the front door open, or the air conditioning was on the fritz. There was also the distinct possibility that Tartarus got as cold as the Sahma desert did at night time, which was not a prospect that he looked forward to with any sort of enthusiasm. Whatever the case, the cold was uncomfortable, and that fireplace that Michael had heard about sounded like just the cure for what ailed him.

Unfortunately, he never made it down to the ground floor. Brisco had barged out of her room in near panic, screaming for help, and it was just lucky for her that Michael was always willing to impress a damsel in distress.

Help.

Help a damsel in distress. Right.

“Never fear, ma'am!” Michael said, sauntering up to Brisco with a cocky swagger. “I'll deal with the beast with my bare hands. After all, who needs a gun...” he said leadingly, before rolling up his sleeves and flexing his biceps as hard as he could, “... when you have the Gunshow!”

He was very proud of his figure, even if he topped out at 'athletic' and fell very short of 'Mr. Universe.' Whatever physical deficiencies he had, however, were more than easily made up for with confidence.

“Stand back. I'll handle it,” Michael said. He didn't even wait for Brisco to acknowledge him before he swaggered into her bedroom... and almost immediately dropped all pretenses. He knew this creature. He'd read about them before, and heard about how they were quite similar to certain creatures from his own homeland.

“Awww, it's a kitty!” Michael cooed, dropping out of his combat stance and slinking up to the cat sitting on Brisco's bed, arms outstretched. “Are you a precious wittle kitty? Daddy's wittle puss puss?” he cooed, scooping up the cat, holding it aloft, and making kissy faces at it. “Did Daddy waddy's wittle kittykat scare the mean ol' military lady? Spoilers: You totally did bro. Pound that shit!”

Before the cat could so much as growl and take a clawed swipe at Michael's offered fist, as it almost assuredly was about to do, a piercing scream filled the halls of the dormitory. A cry of panic and fear, followed shortly by the sound of ringing alarms.

”Okay, now someone actually needs help” Michael thought, dropping the cat back onto the bed and rushing back out the door. “Come on!” He said to Brisco, giving her a slap on the shoulder before he bolted downstairs. Something smelled like burning. Maybe a cinder from the fireplace had caught the rug on fire? It didn't seem outside the realm of possibility, and a sudden blaze would be enough to startle anyone. As he drew nearer, though, that screaming started to sound less and less like someone in surprise. Rather, it sounded a lot more like someone in blinding, unbelievable agony. That, combined with the stench of burning meat, was enough to make his stomach turn. He nearly slammed into Kyle coming out of the billiard's hall, and brushed past the panicked fellow student on his way inside.

As bad a sight as Michael was expecting to see, he was in no way prepared for that unidentified student lying flat against the snooker table as thought it were a goddamned funeral pyre.

“Holy shit!” Michael exclaimed. For a few brief moments, he was stunned speechless. It was almost surreal, like something out of a horror movie. Nothing like this could happen in real life, right? It was all just too... too...

Except it was real. There was a fellow person actually burning to death before Michael's eyes. He snapped out of his dazed trance, shucked off his uniform jacket, and threw it over his unfortunate inflammatory peer, frantically trying to pat out the flames. “ Oh god, oh god! Fire blanket!” He called out. “S-somebody get a fire blanket! And an ambulance! Hurry!”

[Schadow]

The screams from downstairs had Maeve sitting bolt upright on her bed, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, and her eyes wide.

She wasn't sure what to do at first - she hadn't heard a scream like that outside one of the scary movies she and her brothers watched back home. Whatever it was, it didn't bode well, at all. And then the fire alarm went off.

Had it been on its own, she probably would have brushed it off as a prank or a drill, and casually strolled downstairs. But after her minor tweak earlier, the scream, and now the alarm?

Maeve was off her bed, and shovelling her most precious items into her backpack as quick as she could. She knew instinctively she shouldn't be taking the time, but she couldn't bear the thought of leaving some of her things behind. The prohibitive cost, the fact that her family had helped with some, or been gifted by them, and her own works that couldn't be replaced ... no, she simply couldn't leave without them.

She was certain the alarm was loud enough for everyone to hear, but she paused long enough to bang loudly on any doors she passed on her way to the stairs, yelling about 'fire' and 'lets go' all the way.

The girl ran down the stairway so fast she almost tripped herself up, though she tried to avoid any other students in her wide-eyed flight. She realized she didn't know the emergency code for the locals as she heard what sounded like Michael yelling for a fire blanket and an ambulance.

Mrs. Longstreet, the cook, they would know what to do, surely? It wouldn't be awful if she just ran outside like she was supposed to? Maeve was no hero, and didn't pretend to be, but her sympathetic side had her torn for a moment, and she foolishly paused in the front entryway halfway to the door, biting her lower lip in indecision.

[Midlonia]

Dear God is everyone here nuts? Chris thought quietly to himself as the military girl had babbled some more, and then been whisked away by another student who had posed like a bodybuilder.

Now there was another student flinging themselves down the stairs, screaming for help and the fire alarms suddenly began to wail, causing Chris to plug his ears with his fingers, lest he risk deafening himself due to their piercing shriek.

Well, it was what they were designed for after all.

He had been in enough fire drills at schools back home to do nothing but calmly make his way to the exit, 99.9% of the time it was a faulty sensor, someone accidentally dropping cigarette ash into a waste paper bin, that sort of thing...

Then he heard the someone screaming for an ambulance and a fire blanket.

That changed his mind about going outside.

Instead he hefted the fire extinguisher off of its holder and passed Maeve in the foyer. “Outside, go on!” He yelled to her as he jogged up the stairs with the heavy extinguisher now tucked easily under one arm as if he was holding a bundle of clothes. His pace picked up to a full blown run with the extinguisher under his arm and his eyes had changed to a pale golden colour during his rapid ascent.

His senses were screaming at him from every angle, the smell of cooking flesh, the roar of a fire going out of control, the wailing alarms, the rapid movement of students making their way out of the building all talking among themselves. He has to dodge several students, and nearly considers running along the balcony railing for a second, before putting the thought aside.

Chris knocks the door to the study open and stands with the extinguisher nozzle in his hand, only instead of action, he instead stands with a deep frown of puzzlement on his face. The nozzle drops and he looks to Michael, one eyebrow raised.

[Zepplien]

Brisco almost wanted to mock this new comrade's muscle fetish by showing him that the majority of her body was muscle, but decided that would be under her, and petty. She followed the male back to her room, and watch him pick the creature up, with an honest look of disgust on her face "Oh god, how can you hold that thing? It is like a small dog with more fur. Disgusting." she wasn't really a squeamish person, but animals rubbed her the wrong way. She even disliked Zepplien's useful war dogs, because she found the creatures foul. She watch him play with the cat and was about to demand that he put the damn thing outside, but when there was a scream her attention instantly shifted and she almost involuntarily said "Patriotism removes pain." and followed this capitalist cat wrangler, turning her camera on.

As they approached the Billiard hall she recognised the sounds, and smell combo, after all, she had seen friends incinerated for not obeying Zepplien Propaganda laws. She calmly video taped the burning student, showing perhaps some level of insanity, to see this as pretty normal. She shook her head at the capitalist acting like an idiot and said "It is too late for that. Here." she smashed a billiard que against the table and broke it to a sharp point, and said "Here, I will put him out of his misery. You film it." she offered him the camera.

[Gehenna Tartarus]

The Billiard Room – Brisco & Michael

As Michael raced into the room and stood staring at the burning boy, who was rolling around on the floor shrieking in agony as his flesh began to melt on his body. He looked more like a ball of flame than a living person and he would not remain so for much longer. His body suddenly stopped rocking and the sounds died in his throat, the only thing alive about him were the orange and red flames that danced triumphantly over his body.

Suddenly behind them, the doors slammed shut, sealing the two students in the billiard room, the fire spreading rapidly around the room. The rug that the boy had fallen on burst into flames, the fire racing around the floor in some crazy almost controlled manner. Sparks from the now burning billiard table flicked up and caught light of the old style lamp that shown down over the balls, when the game was in play.

If either of the students tried the doors, they would find them firmly locked and no amount of bashing their bodies against them would be able to open them. The far side to the room was now ablaze, with the curtains at the window, bursting into flames one after the other, almost like some kind of game of chase. The room grew hotter and hotter as each piece of furniture was engulfed by fire, turning the billiard room into a furnace. Flames began to lick at the two students’ feet, as the room filled with smoke, making it hard to breath and then suddenly, everything went black…


The Billiard Room – Chris

Stopping on the threshold, the room that Chris saw was totally different to the events experienced by his fellow students. As he looked into the room, he saw the billiard table, with the balls spaced out where they had landed with Kyle’s first shot. A warm but cosy fire burning in the fireplace, just as it had been when the students had been sitting in front of it. The chairs and floor were empty and untouched by fire. In fact, looking into the room, Chris could see no evidence of a fire, he could only see Brisco breaking a cue and Michael standing around looking shocked at the sights that he could see.

When the doors closed for Brisco and Michael, they remained open for Chris, and if they tried to escape he would get the impression that the two were performing some kind of mime act, trying to get out of a burning room. He would see the two students fumble and gasp and trying to do whatever they were trying to escape, before seeing them drop to the floor.


The Hallway

The hallway was in uproar as students and parents, or anyone else that was still helping with the move in, made their way to the exits. Mrs Longstreet was in the middle of the room, directing people to their nearest safe route out. She had seen the two boys race into the common room, but she had been too busy with other issues to be able to follow them through. She had to deal with the majority before she went chasing after people who did not know the drill for when fire alarms went off.

“Everyone out the front door and onto the front lawn,” she cried out, not sure who could hear her over the hubbub. They had a fire drill planned for the morning, so that people would have time to read the safety instructions, she had not expected an impromptu drill in the middle of the first day. Things were not starting out too well and she wondered if the old Earl was paying her back for some poor service that she had given.

“You!” She called out pointing to Maeve. “Yes, you!” She had forgotten the girl’s name in the mess. “I need to organise the people outside into students and other. See if anyone is missing anyone, make a list of names or something. Wait! Use this,” she concluded handing her the form that the students had signed when they picked up their keys. “When the ambulance arrives, make sure someone sees to that boy over there.” She pointed to Kyle, who still screaming about a burning student and was being ushered out of the door by Remi and Jillian. “You, stop playing around on the stairs and get out of the building. This is real alarm, not a game!”


Upstairs

Debbie knocked excitedly on Lacyra’s door, pounding as hard as she could. “Hey, are you in there?” She called, trying to make herself heard over the alarm. She knocked a couple of times and then waited, while another female student walked quickly towards an emergency exit door that had been added to the old building to meet compliance needs, that would lead to iron fire escape. “I heard screaming, not entirely sure this is a drill.”


Dining Room

Mrs Bennet was busily shooing people out of the French windows and shouting at them to make their way around to the front of the building. It had not been a good start to the morning, first a fight and now a fire alarm. She could not remember that much excitement in one day in the whole time that she had worked for the Earl. There had been strange days, but never that exciting.

Once everyone was guided outside, she began to do her checks of the lower floor rooms, to the right of the building, while Mrs Longstreet would do the checks to the left. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of sirens racing down the road towards the old manor.

[Midlonia]

Chris placed the fire extinguisher on the floor outside the room and his frown deepens, the two of them seem to be acting out as if there’s a fire, when he can patently see it’s not. When they collapse, he steps into the room carefully and looks around. The room itself is absolutely fine, aside from the blaring alarm and the two apparently unconscious students. He doesn’t know first aid, but at least knows to roll them both onto their sides before running back through the common room to the balcony at the stairs.

He sprints back down them and stops near Mrs Longstreet, tapping her on the shoulder to be able to talk into her ear over the general sounds of pandemonium.

“There’s no fire in the billiard room!” He says a little too loudly. “But there’s two students passed out in there, they were acting really weird before they collapsed!”

[Schadow]

Chris had told her to get out, some guy was screaming about burning, and she was just starting to scramble towards the door again when Mrs. Longstreet popped out her instructions. Maeve caught herself mid-stride, and looked at her wide-eyed at the first 'You!' then nodded and did as directed, fumbling a bit with the form and nearly dropping it as she continued her scramble outside.

At first, she wasn't sure how to go about things, what with the other students milling about, the chaos of the alarm, and everyone unsure of what was going on, the approaching sirens.

"Ok, um ... well ..." she started off hesitantly, then took a deep breath, and made with her best sports-field bellow that she usually saved for cheering on the local teems or hrassing the refs.

"Awright! Missus L wants us sorted and settled! Students to the right, others to the left please! Anyone hurt to the front!"

Maeve held up the list to help illustrate the need for checking off. "Lets make sure we're all safe and accounted for!"

She waved at Remi and Jillian with Kyle who'd been freaking out, still setting her hair on end. "He's first for the medics - you heard Missus L, right? Is he ok? Is he hurt?"

[New Edom]

Um was horrified by the screams, by the fire--and for a moment he had a shuddering memory of being a youth, little more than 12, as buildings in Sterry burned and explosions shook the night. Then he was hurrying out with the others, helping Mrs. Longstreet evacuate the building. He wanted to try to open the doors but they wouldn't, and a memory of a warning about fires came to him--if the door would not open then it could be sealed shut by the heat and pressure---which would explode out if someone did force it open. He closed his eyes to calm himself with prayer a moment, rather than panic.

[New Naggoroth]

The chill that had swept through the halls of the manor house hadn't gone unnoticed by Lacyra, just as it hadn't gone unnoticed by anyone else. The elf had paid it little mind, however; she was still getting used to her new home, and put it down to a draft in the old house. The way the floors creaked and groaned ever so softly as she walked alarmed her more; she could hardly believe that she was actually walking on a floor made out of wood. Many of the interior walls where also wooden, which was similarly alarming, though at least the outer walls and main supports seemed to be proper stonework. The latticework of thin lines between the bricks had entranced her at first, as it dawned on her that she had never seen it's like before. No naggorothi mason worth his salt would dare leave behind anything but seamless stone.

"Just a draft," she said with a soft sigh and a shrug as she finished unpacking after Debbie had left her. The girl was a curious one, so brash and outspoken, and would bear some watching. She could be a good friend, after all; she seemed to have a spirited attitude, one that was familiar to her from her brief time amongst the other younger and more adventurous ladies at court. Such a girl could also become a major annoyance too, and even a potential adversary. Such women were best handled with care, she thought. And Lacyra felt that she needed a friend, so far from home, surrounded by people she didn't know...

The last things unpacked from her handbag were a small collection of figurines. Delicately, she set the set of six out along the edge of the bedside table. Looking closer, each was a carefully carved rendition of one of the elven gods, and made from the tooth of a Har Ganeth ur-whale. Only when Lacyra set them out this time, she could only find five of the figures. Isha, the Mother of Life, was missing. Lacyra panicked, and searched frantically through her bag. She couldn't have forgotten it... could she have? No, it was impossible, all six were in her bag when she boarded the flight bound for Tartarus. So she had thought. Apparently she was wrong.

Cursing bitterly, she set out the rest of her set, carefully facing them towards a central point. Asuryan the Father of Day and Ereth Khial the Mother of Night side by side in the centre, with Khaine and Ellinill standing to the right, then Vaul, and Isha's empty space, to the left. She knelt before the gods, and spoke her prayers softly in her native tongue, the words not intended for any others. The moment of introspection brought a calming peace to her, and she knew that even here, far from home, she was still within the sight of the gods.

The peace and reassurance lasted up until the moment she heard the scream from downstairs, and she went running to her door. "Debbie..." she said breathlessly, "What in the gods' name was that?"

[Lost Americans]

For the first day of school, Jillian had expected the dorm to be fairly loud – parents and family members moving around, students getting lost and jabbering excitedly.

But this was stupid.

First there was the commotion over the naked foreigner. Then the fighting and yelling that spiraled out from that. Then, yet another foreigner screaming and yelling for a gun to kill a monster on her bed.

Letting all these uncivilized foreigners into the country, Jillian was beginning to feel, might have been the closest that the Empress had made to a mistake – not that the Empress actually made a mistake, mind you, just the closest she had ever been to making one. Public nudity like its normal… guns like they’re everywhere…

And now, the fire alarm.

While Jillian was all for loud noises as much as the next teenager, despite her rebellious goth-cum-punk exterior, she much preferred for those loud noises to have structure – ideally as music (not that the adults she knew tended to refer to her choices as such).

The atonal howl set her teeth on edge, which prompted a sharp stab of pain from her injured cheek as she tensed those muscles. Hopefully it will quiet down once classes are in session, or I may have to find another place to do school work, she thought. Not that she could actually hear herself think, given the racket.

When Remi pointed them towards the front doors, to escape the noise, they were suddenly interrupted by, at a guess, the individual responsible for the current situation, and boy was he a screamer. After a moment of confused bumping, Jillian grabbed for one arm and Remi the other, and they were dragging him along behind them, ready to leave the building.

Outside, the noise dropped off precipitously, as it should, but it was still clearly audible, just not grating and painful. She had managed to overhear the caretaker’s instructions to one of the other foreigners, this one also a girl, and when Remi let go of the boy’s arm, Jillian shoved him into a seat position on the grass. “What’s your name?” she shouted at him, a little louder than her normal voice, as her hearing had not completely recovered yet.

[Gehenna Tartarus]

The Hallway/Billiard Room

Mrs Longstreet was still busy shooing people to the front door, trying to get some order to the panic that had filled the halls. The room was a lot emptier, other than for the scattered suitcases and boxes that people had left where they stood, to be collected when they were allowed back in. Of all the days for such a thing to occur, she could not imagine a worse one. She was guiding a rather nervous looking student to the door, when a male student come racing up to her, screaming about there being no fire and some babble about there being students knocked out on the floor. A curious expressed passed over her face and she was about to order the boy outside, when she heard the fire engines turning into the drive, their sirens steadily growing louder.

“You should go outside, tell the fire brigade what you told me,” she said, as she turned and looked towards the common room door. She was not entirely sure what she expected to find in the billiard room, but she went running along to the room, as fast as her not so young legs would carry her.

When she reached the door to the billiard room, she paused on the threshold for a moment and then stepped inside. She looked around her, as if looking for something then with a satisfied look on her face, she walked briskly over to the first fallen student, checked their pulse and then moved over to the other, repeating the process. Then she stood up, waiting for the arrival of the medics or the awakening of the students. Once more, she looked around the room, her gaze pausing briefly on the fireplace, her face paling slightly.


Outside

Kyle sat down on the floor, where Jillian had guided him and looked at her face, or more accurately through her, as he witnessed over and over the boy bursting into flames. “He’s on fire!” He screamed at the young woman in front of him, unaware of her even being there.

Remi was knelt down beside him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. “What do you think happened?” She asked, her gaze on Jillian, before she looked up at the girl who had been trying to get everyone into some kind of order and who had managed to get some people to actually follow her instructions, while others were busy talking between themselves and waiting to see the flames licking at the windows or bellowing out the door. “He seems fine, other than being a little…freaked out,” she finished lamely, managing a crooked smile.


Upstairs

Debbie looked at Lacrya, as she opened the door, with a look of surprise and bewilderment. “Do you not hear the alarm?” She said, grabbing the girl’s arm and pulling her out of the door. The girl was from some weird place or other and maybe she had no idea what a fire was, but the Tartarian was not going to sit around and explain the situation until they were safely outside. “Not sure the main stairs are safe, so we’ll take the fire escape,” she added, hoping that it gave the girl some clue as to why they were leaving.


Dining Room/Hallway

Dylan and his brother had been on their feet as soon as the alarm had gone off, their high school had been almost regimental in the way it handled fire drills, so much so that the moment the bell began, everyone was ready to evacuate the building. And while people were running around screaming blue murder or burning bodies, or whatever the guy screaming was screaming about, they knew that they had to get to the nearest exit as soon as possible.

While his brother was already on the way through the hall, Dylan looked at Umbert, who seemed to be in the middle of a trance or something. He grabbed hold of the boy’s arm and pulled him along with him to the door. “Um, now is a good time to have your eyes open and your legs moving in a fluid motion in that direction,” he said, indicating the door. “You can pray to whatever god you pray to when we are safely outside.”

[New Edom]

Um was not dazed, and he turned and looked at his interlocutor, and said, "Yes, I'm ready. I was just taking a moment. Prayer is the right first response," as he went with him, quickly but without panic. His gaze was steady and he did not hesitate to follow, though he was profoundly disturbed--how could such a thing have happened here? He followed Dylan outside regardless to see what happened after.

[Midlonia]

Chris nods after Mrs Longstreet gives him his instructions and leaves the foyer to carry them out. The first fire engine to arrive sees him hopping slightly from one foot to the other before approaching the first fireman he sees.

He quickly relays all the information he can, that there’s no fire where the alarm was tripped, and that two more students would likely need medical attention on top of the student who had been taken outside already. The fireman seems to give Chris a bit of a stare even as he relays all of this to him, then snaps out of it and heads off to fill in the others on the reported details.

With that particular part of his now played out, he finds out Maeve at the front of the whole mess.

“I’m out.” He says to her with a smile and stands next to her. His pale golden eyes seem to mirror what he’s looking at, showing bits of the manor, students milling around and primarily her. “You ok?”

[Schadow]

Maeve was busy marking off names and reassuring people that things were going to be fine. She had no idea if they were of course, but that's what people were supposed to do in situations like this, weren't they? She'd been given a job, and that was enough to keep her focused and her mind occupied with something other than idle fretting as she might have been. Frankly, she was surprised anyone had paid attention, all things considered.

"Ok, right - got you here. Just wait for Mrs. Longstreet to come on out. I imagine she'll let us know what's going on," she said marking off another name.

She'd wracked her brain trying to remember if she'd overheard some of the names of those she recognized as having seen before, but couldn't name any. She'd yet to see Tyyl or Lizzie, and Michael had yet to make an appearance. Chris, she'd seen, but ... The goth girl and the nice girl in the dress were trying to help the screaming kid, and she wasn't sure of any of their names either, though she recognized them from earlier.

It shivered her right to the bone, hearing him go on like that, about someone burning. The thing was, she'd smelled no smoke, heard no flames, nothing but the alarm and people yelling. And of course now, the sirens. It didn't make a lick of sense.

"I'm out."

Maeve looks over to the young man who'd spoken, and gives him a nervous smile. "And thank god for that," she begins, nodding to let him know she's fine. "What in hell--"

Perhaps it's the heightened senses due to all the adrenaline running through her system. Perhaps it's because she'd spent a bit of time lookin into them earlier. Whatever it is, she pauses mid-sentence and looks more carefully at Chris, her own eyes narrowing slightly.

"I coulda swore they were green," she says in confusion, then shakes her head as if to clear it. "I ... yes, fine. Names - you ah, you know theirs?"

Still peering at him curiously, she nods in the direction of melt-down boy, goth, and nice girl.

[Midlonia]

“Swore they were green?” Chris says quirking his head to the side before shaking his also. “Just so long as you’re alright, I’m glad. But there wasn’t any fire where I looked.” He frowned and looked back towards the Manor itself. “I guess finding your room for dinner later will be postponed, or even just more pleasant conversation.”

He looks to the group huddled to the side. “Oh! Uh, I don’t know the other two, but the woman in the summer dress is Remi. I’ve spoken to the gothy-girl, she was the one Um smacked around, never gave me her name.”

He looks to Maeve, some of the gold from his eyes already beginning to flake and fade back to green as he no longer felt the danger from the ‘fire’ or a need to react quickly to things that just didn’t seem to exist. “Want me to get their names for your list?”

[Lost Americans]

Apparently, screaming at the kid was not enough to get his attention away from whatever horror he was remembering and screaming about. Apparently, going outside was not enough to decrease the noise level today.

Jillian drew back her hand to slap some sense into the boy, but then paused, her stinging cheek reminding her how well that had gone for her the previous occasion. Despite being a local, in his current state, who knew what he would interpret it as.

“I’m guessing someone was wearing some sort of flammable synthetic and decided to play with the fireplace in one of the rooms,” she replied to Remi’s question. “And yes, he appears to have avoided injury by running from the room screaming incoherently and unhelpfully.”

She brushed Remi’s hand off of the boy’s shoulder and replaced it with her own, mirroring the action on the other side. She shoved him backwards, then pulled forward, shaking him sharply (and possibly giving him whiplash). She knelt down and looked directly into his eyes, but whether he saw her or not, she had no idea. “You’re safe now. Tell us your name so we can help. Tell us what happened.”