A Mane Curati [OPEN]

[Deleted]

Frater's parents were always the type to voice their concern for their son. It certainly wasn't easy being a part of the Perdurabo family, that was a given; it was almost as if they tried to prepare him for being the "odd one out" as it were when he revealed to them that he was pursuing the same interests as his caregivers. To a point, it worked, too. Frater learned some unorthodox self-preservation techniques on his own to weed out the harmful from the harmless and those he considered the latter were also, to him, dear friends that he even kept contact with though he were thousands of miles away at Ashford Academy School for the Gifted. Hell, it was almost a culture shock to hear a lack of voices that rang rich with a British tone like his and to see that there were others like him; not necessarily in the same vein as they were constantly writing spells - that he assumed would never work - in his notebook or a recipe for some self-concocted alchemy experiment. No, instead the teens that attended this school had something considered "unworldly" before it erupted onto the face of the planet. Frater was a gifted, and it was one of the few things his parents couldn't prepare him for. How could they? They never assumed that their son would have an ability as though it came straight out of fiction or hell, even one of their books regarding the Order of the Golden Dawn's ceremonial magic practices.

It didn't take long before he was swept away from his home in London to Ashford. The experience was shocking, to say the least. Frater knew not one face, but knew the kids who went to the school had at least one thread that bound them together, regardless of their background, their life experiences, or otherwise. None the less, it didn't cause him to drop his arm's reach guard against those who would assume that... well... he wasn't quite right and truth be told, Frater did nothing to deter that assumption; if anything, that was his key to survival in social environments. Speaking of "social", it even was a bit of a different type of experiment to him. He would throw the oddball card around as much as possible, and see who dared venture past that and connect with him on a human level. After all, who were friends if you couldn't even share ideas with them?

Having just arrived at the school, Frater was still uneasy in his new surroundings and took quick solace in the courtyard of the school since it, itself, was not a place that was commonly populated heavily and gave him some reprieve from his dorm. It was hard for "that crazy son of a bitch with the odd drawing on the cover of his notebook" to, well, actually complete the drawing. It honestly made him smile as he sat under the sun and against a tree, whittling away at his carefully crafted Solomon Seal. If any who populated the same hall as him even asked what the symbol's purpose was, he'd be more than happy to explain that it was a symbol of protection from evil spirits and energy, but then his social experiment wouldn't be much of an experiment after all. The Hebrew took a lot of time to get exact - his father would often tell him that this was the point in doing something like this as the wrong word would be an awful thing - but the pencil in his grasp pushed into the glossed cover of his Five-Star notebook with the yellow cover. The courtyard was silent, save for the rustling of leaves in the wind or the occasional birds chirping. That's why the sound of footsteps stuck out to him like a sore thumb. Quick as lightning, his eyes darted from the drawing upward to someone moving toward him, and back down to his task at hand. If he were a religious man, he'd pray that this person would share the courtyard with him, but keep their distance. This was a labor that needn't not be disturbed.

[Camila Reyes]

No one could have prepared the young woman that slowly entered the courtyard for the truth about herself. She had always felt different from the other children at school, she just was not sure how different she was, exactly. Her parents had not prepared her for the onset of her gift, thanks to some hope against hope that she would turn out "normal", like her brother. However, her parents were sadly mistaken and because of it, the girl had been taken away and shipped off to Ashford. She supposed it was alright, save for being in such close quarters with other young women. Living close to anyone ticked her off, though, so it was not too much of a problem. The brunette looked at her hands, scowling a bit. She wondered briefly what life would have been like if she did not have these stupid powers. Would she still be at her old school? Would people actually care? She almost laughed at the thought; no one had cared for her in sixteen years, so why would they start to care now?

She sat down, leaning against the tree as she pulled a book out of her backpack. She scratched her head, reaching around the back to fiddle with her chocolate brown hair that had been tied up in a ponytail. Once she finished, she stared at the title of the book for a few minutes. The Art of War Her eyelashes fluttered slightly as she opened the book, wrinkling the nose at the musty scent that wafted from the book. This thing must be old, she thought to herself, pulling out the bookmark from between the pages and starting to read where she left off. The young woman knew that she should probably be doing her other schoolwork, but she knew that she was sent here, in part at least, to perfect her powers and work on strategy. What book was better at teaching strategy than The Art of War, which had been an army staple for centuries? The thought of an army made her frown slightly, but she shook the thought off as she continued to read.

After a few pages, she placed the bookmark between the pages, rubbing her forehead with one hand. There were some times that she was okay with reading non-fiction books. However, this was not one of those times, since she found herself being easily distracted. She tilted her head, hearing a quiet scratching noise coming from somewhere behind her. She shifted to her knees, peeking out from behind the tree to see someone doodling on his notebook. She squinted, trying to see what exactly he was drawing, not that she really cared in the first place. She took in the boy's appearance, noting some odd things about him. She could not see his eyes, but his hair was an odd silvery-white color that made her almost do a double take. She did not know people her age could grey so fast. She shrugged slightly, watching his movements with dulled interest. Maybe watching someone else work at the school was more interesting than hearing teachers drone on about things she already learned or hearing girls in the hallway being catty as usual. This school is about as exciting as watching paint dry, she thought, watching the young man sketch.

"I don't mean to bug you, but may I ask what you're drawing there? It looks interesting."

Of course, the young woman did not actually care about what the young man was drawing. However, she figured that she would have to eventually interact with people, or else she would be more miserable than she already was. The young man seemed introverted enough that she would have no trouble quickly starting and ending a conversation.

[Deleted]

The way Frater perked up at the sound of another's voice was almost canine; his head popped up straight and his ears twitched deep down in the canal when he heard a distinctly feminine voice ask what he was drawing. Should he reply? No, that would be foolish. She would laugh. Perhaps if he went on and presented himself as though he didn't hear her, then perhaps she'd drop the subject. A quick nod confirmed that - to himself, at least - he'd made the right decision. He continued to scratch away at the drawing, making sure to leave no spots in his bold font. Something caused him to pause as he finished another symbol and set his pencil down on the notebook. What would his parents say if he were just blowing off someone who sounded like they were genuinely interested in what he was doing? They'd probably scold him for hours on end and preach to him the virtues of human decency and how rude it would be to ignore someone simply asking a question. A loud sigh escaped his lungs as his torso swung around the tree in the direction of the voice; the notebook itself was presented by stretching his arm past his face. "It's called a Solomon Seal.", Frater noted with an obvious absence of emotion in his voice.

His body seemed to follow his face and arm entirely, as he now found himself sitting sideways. "It's meant to ward off bad energy. You know, like if anyone wanted to... harm..." What started as a boisterous recital of the symbol's purpose in a clear, yet distinguished, British accent turned into garble reminiscent of a street punk's speech. Truth be told, Frater was feeling rather embarrassed at the extent of information he was ready to provide. "She didn't ask what it did, only what it was." He berated himself, the only sign of which was another sigh that left his body. Oh god, he was making a bigger fool of himself than he ever had before at this school; perhaps he should have spent more time gauging the friendliness of the students here before settling in on a social defense strategy. Almost as if it were acting independently of his mind, Frater's body was completely removed from his original seat, and now he sat cornered to the young, inquisitive lady. "Hey, sorry about that. I'm not quite used to..." He paused. What was the best way to phrase this? Would now be a good time to throw up the defense, or did it even really matter since it wasn't like there was anyone else out here? "... People. Really. People asking me questions." The other half of his sentence spilled forth from his mouth in the best way he could phrase it without coming off as a complete loon. The reality, though, was that it was clumsy and clunky, but at least it sounded earnest.

[Camila Reyes]

The young woman had to hold back a quiet chuckle; the way the man perked up when he heard her voice was kind of amusing. In fact, it reminded her of her neighbor's dog, in more than a few ways. She could not tell exactly what he was thinking, but he seemed quite uncomfortable being spoken to. She took that idea as fact when he seemed to ignore her question and go back to his drawing, seeming quite content to do so. She frowned a little. Well, at least someone is happy in this hellhole, she thought to herself, still watching his hands move along the bright cover of his notebook to finish the sketch. She figured he would just finish the seal and either get up and leave or maybe engage her in conversation. Either way, she did not mind, because she was doing exactly as one prefect had told her. Try to make some friends while you're here. It might make your experience worthwhile She snorted quietly to herself, shaking her head. She hated taking orders from anyone, but she supposed it was better to follow advice rather than ignore it. She hummed softly to herself, twirling blades of grass around her finger. It was at that moment that she heard shifting and he had turned to address her.

"It's called a Solomon Seal."

She nodded slowly, as if to say that she understood. She noted the absence of emotion in his voice and made a note of the oddity. She wondered if there were more emotionally stifled people here than she had originally thought. She chided herself for thinking this, though and decided to place the book that was balancing in her lap on the ground. She shifted her position slightly, to accommodate the boy moving sideways to face her. She listened as he started to explain the symbol's purpose. He spoke with a British accent that made her blink. Well, they never said British people couldn't have powers, she thought with a shrug. His garbled voice and rushed words made her think that he really liked speaking about the symbol that he had drawn on the front of his notebook. She wondered if she ever acted that way when talking about things that she liked. She looked at the symbol again with a small smile on her lips.

"Well, it's good to have some kind of protection around here. You're going to need a lot of that around here. Well, protection, I mean."

"Hey, I'm sorry about that... I'm not quite used to... people. Really. People asking me questions."

She laughed softly, covering her mouth out of respect. People around here were more amusing than she had first thought. It seemed that the socially awkwardness among the gifted seemed to be amped up to high levels. She nodded to him, as if to say that she understood. She herself did not fare well in social situations, though that was probably because she was... abrasive, to say the least. She had mellowed out a little after being at the school for a few weeks, thanks to some fine tuning of her meditation, but she still had quite a ways to go. She figured that reaching out was the first step to leading her down a new path of life.

"It's quite alright. I'm not very good in social situations either. I'm not as much awkward as I am abrasive, or so I was told, at least."