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Starbleme

Phantom of the Forum
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. One post per week
  4. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
  4. Douche
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Modern, horror, sci-fi, slice-of-life, magical, dystopian, school
~~OOC Chat~~
Date: August 20th (First Day of School)

  • library.jpg


    The Macabre Move-In
    Lower students (Year 1s) move into their dormitories.


    ???
    (TBD)

    The Blighted Bal Masqué
    The first big social event of the year: a masquerade ball to celebrate the autumn equinox.
  • Ansgar Staudinger
    [202]

    Anthony Linnaeus Musa (‘Tony’)
    [202]

    Asher (and Ashley)
    [203]

    Ayla Jayne Hayes ('AJ')
    [101]

    Jacqueline Fletcher ('Jackie')
    [101]

    Orson Grey
    [203]

    Richard Grey ('Rick')
    [201]

    Rosa Psalms
    [102]

  • The various spooky locations in the RP. Make sure to include your character's name and location at the top of each post. Also, feel free to travel to locations other than those named below, as long as they're a logical fit for the school/town.

    The Forest: A sprawling thicket of tall trees that makes up most of the grounds and, if you manage to get past the great iron fence, the surrounding area. Don’t go in alone--ever.

    The Town of Cartham

    new-england.jpg

    Cartham is a sleepy little village with basic amenities such as a barber’s, grocer’s, clothing store, and mortuary. During most of the year, it’s covered in thick fog. An unsettling aura permeates the town, and seems to repel the summer boarders that would normally flock to a coastal New England village. The paint on most buildings is faded and chipped, the signs losing letters; as you move out from the village center, you’ll find many houses lying dilapidated, overgrown, and empty. The townies are generally distrustful of Academy students, though not overtly hostile.

    Crappie Beach: Don’t let the name deceive you; this cute little sandy strip, surrounded by rocky outcroppings and small houses, is a nice place to spend the very rare sunny afternoon. If there’s no one around and the waters look strange and dark, however, one should retreat to the town proper.

    Sal’s Convenience Store: Exactly what it sounds like. Nothing fancy, but if you really need a particular item, Sal can probably get it for you. Slide him a few extra. Just don’t look at his eyes for too long; there’s something strange about them.

    St. Whateley's Church: A generic-looking church of unknown denomination. Mostly abandoned now.

    Cod and Country Inn (restaurant), The Bean (coffee shop), Rocky and Co. (ice cream): Local eateries. Usually fairly empty.

    The Academy Grounds

    3185979397_b437f986c0.jpg

    Main Campus: The green outdoor area that connects all the various buildings and lecture halls. It’s speckled with trees, and there's a main plaza--complete, of course, with a fountain featuring some unsettling cherub statues.

    Swimming Pool: Your basic indoor pool. A much safer alternative to the lake.

    Tennis Courts: A fenced-in tennis court on the rooftop of the athletics building. If you hit a ball over the fence, something will occasionally throw it back.

    Training Grounds: A neatly-mowed field of grass that can be used for sport and physical education class.

    Library: A massive, ancient, and dusty library that contains a myriad of books, some of which can only be found at Dyer. Needless to say, there’s also a forbidden section.

    Year 1 Dormitory: The first year student dorms. There’s a lounge on the first floor with couches, a television, antique lamps, and a grand piano.

    Dining Hall: A large, warmly-lit hall with long tables, ornate boiserie on the walls, oil portraits of previous headmasters, and two chandeliers. The food is surprisingly tasty. There's also an afternoon tea service.

    The Lake: A large lake that extends into the forest. Good for skipping stones.

    The Infirmary: A large infirmary wing with enough cots to serve a good 1/4 of the student population, in case of some unfortunate event. Chances are high that you'll end up here at least once.

    Various other school buildings
  • A place to keep track of school NPCs. Unless bolded in magenta, NPCs are common property and can be used as such! (As long as their personality is kept consistent, of course.)

    The Headmistresses
    The Housemaster


  • Content and Language
    Make sure to include your character’s name and location in every post as a header, so that it’s easy for everyone to keep track of where your characters are! At least one paragraph is preferred per post, with an Intermediate writing level or better. Try to use font colors that work on all Iwaku styles (it'll save people some eye strain.) This guide is super helpful for choosing good colors. No god-modding or autohitting. Keep drama in the IC.

    Dark themes, profanity, and some body horror are most definitely allowed. With that said, this is not a redstar roleplay. Romance is awesome, but if you want to do smut (with someone of appropriate age), slide into those PMs.

    Posting Speed

    Around two posts a week is the expectation (more is OK). It’s understandable for life to get in the way; just communicate with me so that the game can keep rolling smoothly. If your character is absent for like two weeks with no word from you, they’ll most likely be written out (perhaps as snack food for one of the Academy’s resident eldritch horrors.)


 
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Move-In Day. 9:00 AM.
Orson & Richard Grey, School Entrance ---> Dormitory

Orson stood with his suitcase and backpack, staring up at the imposing wrought iron gates. Above, a canopy of silver clouds swelled with the promise of rain. Beside him, his aunt and the Director of Admissions engaged in banal conversation.

They were early. Orson brushed a few white cat hairs off of his sweater. He noticed a dead sparrow on the ground and began to salivate.

“Are you sure I can’t come in with him?” asked his aunt in her nasally Jersey accent. Chocolate-brown hair, painted nails, and caked-on makeup almost masked the fact that she was pushing 40. She repeated the question. “Are you sure? I’m just so curious, I mean, I couldn't find any photos online—”

“We think it best that guardians say goodbye here. It makes the transition a little easier,” explained the Director. He had greeted them personally at the gates—a silver-haired, clean-cut, attractive specimen in a stuffy suit. Exactly the type that Orson expected to see here. “You’ll be able to see all of our facilities on Parents’ Day.”

Orson breathed a sigh of relief. Aunt Gabriella was nice, but not the type of person you want making first impressions for you in the viper pit of junior Ivy Leaguers.

He still felt like he was dreaming. He supposed that there must have been a rep at his school scouting for Dyer candidates, that was logical enough—but out of everyone, they chose him? It was rather inconceivable. He felt like any moment they were going to realize their mistake. Like the Director was suddenly going to look at him like an anatomist would look at the wrong species of embalmed toad, clear his throat, and say erm, actually, I’m afraid we must have made a clerical error...

And maybe Orson wanted him to. This was a considerable departure from the path—that is to say, the next sixteen-odd years of higher education that he had meticulously planned out for himself, with golden nirvana in the form of a plaque that says Dr. Orson Grey, DDS at the end—and he did not like deviations. But it’s not like he could have turned down the invite. Dyer would improve his chances at a college scholarship tenfold. Staying in Jersey would be unmitigated idiocy.

“I’ll be fine,” Orson assured her. “Bye, Aunt G.” Bye, Jersey City. Bye to the home-cooked dinners he’d just gotten used to eating and the three mewling cats who’d finally started to tolerate his presence in the household.

The Director gestured beyond the gates, past the circle drive of what looked to be an administrative building, down a long cobblestone road shaded by trees. “You’ll want to walk straight that way. The dormitory is the big, tall building with the gargoyles. It’s impossible to miss.”

---​

Soon, Orson was in the dormitory lounge. The room was lit in warm, rosy tones, with furniture made of old wood and the faint aroma of old books. He sat politely on what looked to be an antique canapé, waiting for others to inevitably arrive. He hadn’t seen much on the way; fog hid most of the campus from him, as if he were in an old computer game with a very short draw distance.

He was just about to plink out a tune on the grand piano when he heard it.

“DUUUDE!” The howl came from the doorway; Orson looked up to see a familiar person. One who looked sort of like him, but shorter and scruffier, with harsher features and unkempt clothing. The boy carried a sticker-covered guitar case and some luggage: a huge black duffel, stained with dirt and falling apart. He walked over to Orson and gave his shoulder a hard slug.

“Rick?” Orson found himself shell-shocked. He blinked, adjusting his glasses. “I’m sorry. I just. Why are you… here?”

His twin flashed a grin. “Because I got accepted into this school. Duh-doy.”

Orson paled. “You got accepted?”

“What, like it’s hard?” he joked, falling onto one of the plush chairs. “It’s fine. I didn’t believe it either, dog. I thought for sure they got our names mixed up.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Orson said. He nervously tapped his fingers on the plastic handle of his suitcase. Okay, this was not happening. It had to be a joke, but there’s no way that Rick had the resources or lack of sense to travel across the country just to mess with him. "I just wouldn't expect you to have, um, gotten here so early! Did... Joy drive you here?"

“Yupperoni. Jesus, you’re out of the loop. Maybe you’d know I’m up to if you would have come home for the summer. Or Christmas,” said Rick, taking out a packet of black licorice from his pocket. “Whatever, dude. Just goes to show what I've been saying all along: you can’t separate the blood brothers.”

Orson's eyes narrowed. Any guilt he felt was replaced by suspicion almost immediately. "You know how much that stuff makes me want to vomit. Seriously, don't send the taste to me. Don’t send--"

"Whoops. Where are my fucks? I seem to have misplaced them," said Rick, ripping off a generous chunk of oil-colored rope and emitting a victory cry of "Blood brothers!" He leapt onto the floor to take evasive action, knocking over a standing lamp. Meanwhile, Orson sputtered with disgust; he was in pursuit, attempting to dash the candy from his brother’s hands, and all of a sudden it was the old days all over again.

"Seriously, stop it—ow, you asshole! Did you ever consider that shit like this might be why I moved away?!" he cried, inciting a minor scuffle that would continue until someone walked in and made him self-conscious enough to stop.
 
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Jackie

Room 101->Dorm Lounge

Being a year-round student had its perks. For one thing, Jackie already had her stuff in her dorm, so that was one headache removed. She woke up, got herself dressed, and made sure her illusion was in place. She'd decided to give it a modest green t-shirt and blue jeans today- save the fancy stuff for later.

As she went out into the lounge, she saw that there were two boys already there. "Hi there. I'm Jackie. Don't mind me, just... keep it down, would you? You're being a little loud."
 
Ansgar Staudinger
Room 201 -> Dorm Lounge

*Note - Italicized speech is in German*

"Yes Uncle, everything is well. I arrived the day before this. You forgot about time zones again when booking the flight. I will be writing regularly, yes, I know you don't like phones." Ansgar was on his phone, early as it was, standing in the bathroom, shaving at the same time while talking to his uncle, using the speaker phone function. He had found that the bathroom was rather well sound proofed, as to not disturb any room mate he might have arriving. Of course, being early seemed to eliminate that idea. One thing someone might notice was the mirror was missing, set on the ground and firmly faced with its reflective side towards the wall. Ansgar refused to look at himself in a mirror, a bizarre little quirk unless someone was aware of his little problem. He had never actually looked at himself in a mirror, taking his uncle, and others, word for his appearance. He, frankly, was too concerned with what he would see. As such, he shaved by feel, having practiced enough to avoid it being an issue.

"I must go uncle, I suspect that orientation and class assignments will begin properly today. Or rather, I hope it does." Nodding to himself, making the usual comments in response to the usual warnings his uncle gave him. Never trust hope, never trust what he sees. Well, what he sees of the normal world, at any rate. Suspect everything here. It was how his uncle got through, after all! He could hear the pride and, well, something else in the man's voice every time he brought that up. That something else planted the seed of concern in his gut, but he was this far already. No sense getting cold feet now, too little too late to get away from it anyways. Hanging up the phone, he finished cleaning himself up for the day, quietly placing his meager belongings in a case before locking the box. Whomever his roommate was would be fortunate in having most of the space for storage. Ansgar needed little, besides that luggage box, for his belongings.

Dressing himself as usual, the young German decided to head down to the lounge. He had yet to go there, having arrived later in the evening here and being very much jet lagged, as it was explained on his way over here from the airport. He had recovered decently well, and was not too tired from the trip. Compared to Americans who might be attending? Well, they would probably be right chipper and on their feet. And, sure enough, upon reaching the lounge, he spotted two boys rough housing. The air around each of them shimmering in their own unique manners. The one chasing, had a subdued aura, calmer and more tranquil, yet the flares were there, hinting at more than one might see at a glance. The one being chased, a wilder, more energetic air followed him, simmering like a midsummer heat. He did not care to look too closely at either, doubly so since there seemed to be a strange link between the two, the calmer air meeting the simmering one in a bridge that seemed to pulse and flare oddly. He had never seen that before, and that was saying something. Then he looked at the girl, and promptly hated everything that had seemed like a good idea in doing so.

Whoever, whatever she was, it actually physically hurt to look at her aura. It was both a coalescing, florescent rainbow of colors, both native and not to this place, and a background negative of the aura, while she herself looked like a cracked mirror, cracks and wounds stretching across, oozing something he could not put words to. He had never seen anything so bizarre, and all he could fathom was that he would be avoiding her at all costs. Unaware of his actions, his gaze jerked hard, rubbing his temples with one hand, and focusing on a suddenly riveting table in the lounge, anything but analyze and look at that further. Gods, his head hurt like a worker had taken a jackhammer to it. Muttering something in German under his breath, he found a seat at the piano, toying with its keys while muttering a barely audible greeting to those present, dealing with the pounding headache, his normally calm accent sounding stressed. "Good Morning, I am Ansgar. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances." While the piano was not something he had practiced as much on, he preferred the violin in his room, it was a fascinating item none the less, and gave him something blessedly normal to focus on.​
 
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Ayla Jayne Hayes (AJ)
~
School Entrance ----> Room 101 ----> Dorm Lounge


"Are you sure you'll be okay, AJ? I'd be happy to turn right around and drive you back home to New Hampshire!" Ayla's father was always very worried about her. Not that her mother wasn't as well, but... Let's just say Mr. Hayes is more emotional than the missus. Much more emotional, in fact. "I'll be fine, dad." AJ assured him from the backseat of the family's dark green 1994 Volkswagen Passat. Honestly, Ayla was surprised the thing hadn't finally broken down. She and her mother always talked about needing to get rid of the crappy old thing behind her father's back. He loved it too much.

The teenager was buzzing with excitement. She absolutely couldn't wait to step into her new dorm and meet her roommate, and then everyone else there. As a result of her nerves, Ayla had been braiding her hair and undoing it the whole car ride. But they were finally here. The minute the car had stopped, or rather a few seconds before, the young woman pushed her door open and sprung into the outside world. She enjoyed how cool it was, and it looked like it was going to rain, which was always a bonus.

Inhaling the fresh air, Ayla waited for her father to pop the trunk so she could get her bags. She only had three duffel bags with her, and a smaller bag for toiletries. "I think you just leave, then..." Ayla said, turning to her parents. To her surprise, her mother was tearing up. (Of course her father was.) Without anything said, the girl went and hugged her mother tightly. Her father came over and joined in. The hug seemed to last forever, but it was only a few seconds long. "Don't worry. I'll call you guys, or write or something." Both of her parents nodded, and before they got back in the car, they all said 'I love you' to each other in unison.

~~~

After a bit of walking, Ayla found the dorm building, and then her own room. It looked like someone had already been in room 101, which made the girl quite curious. She was thrilled to meet her roommate, whoever that would be. So, hoping someone would be there, Ayla wandered down to the lounge. And, well... there were definitely people there.

Silently, and with wide eyes, AJ watched a boy chase another boy who looked kind of like him. She assumed they were twins, or this was just an incredible coincidence. After a moment or two of watching them, Ayla looked at a girl who she thought might be her roommate, then to another young man sitting by the piano. She was closer to him, so she decided to greet him first. (Most likely, AJ wouldn't be loud or confident enough to greet this group as a whole.) "U-Uh, hi... I'm Ayla, but, um... you can call me AJ." The girl said softly, looking closely at the boy beside the piano. She had a big, bright smile on her face that displayed her razor-sharp teeth. In all honesty, the girl looked like a much cuter, anthropomorphic version of a wrangler fish (and probably much less threatening, too).

Ayla started braiding her hair nervously again. She was smoothing out her skirt and picking fuzz off of her sweater, hoping her outfit still looked okay. Suddenly, the eye on her forehead started to sting a bit. Oh no, AJ thought, quickly pushing her bangs off of her forehead. Some days her hair didn't bother that annoying third eye, but this was not one of those days. Like tears for a normal eyeball, an oily black substance began to fall from Ayla's extra eye. Her smile had been slowly fading, but now it was completely gone and her lips were tight. Without anything else to use in view, the teen raised her sleeve to her face and wiped the oil away. Boy, what a first day this was turning out to be.
 
Anthony Musa -> Room 201 -> Dorm Lounge:

Anthony Musa looked totally forward to his new perfectly normal education so that he could continue on his perfectly normal life, and also be totally and utterly normal in the process. So as he neared the school in his dad's totally normal SUV, having a totally normal conversation with his mom and dad, snacking on a totally normal (and somewhat over-ripened) banana, he was ecstatic to note that the school was a building. Yes, a perfectly fine and inconspicuous building, that didn't look like some scam, or even worse an illicit underworld hotel. Because that would have been abnormal.

And abnormal things just aren't normal!

Anthony found himself at peace and bristling with good vibrations as he did things in normal routine procedure. Setting his bags unto the floor, finding room for his clothing, amenities, and what have you. The bed seemed, well, 'bed' enough, and the floor was floor, which meant that all was good. After completing such preparations, and saying a perfectly reasonable farewell to both mother and father, he felt tired. And so, he decided it would be wondrous to find an appropriate place to be tired within; a lounge!

Upon making his arrival, he noted twins. A statistical anomaly, sure, but a biological normalcy, so that was just fine. Piano playing was not a talent Anthony had, but playing the piano was always not a strange thing, so that was good too! And then of course there was AJ who had three eyes, and eyes were a fine, regular thing to have on one's fa-

"Three." Anthony said, for no particular reason. "Three, three, three, three."

Three became a mantra of sorts, as Anthony rather rudely stared at Ayla's third eye, gripping his banana tightly for comfort.



Rosa Psalms had arrived early, and took to the lounge to engage in a hobby of hers; 'people-watching'.

As it happened, it seemed that the banana-boy was having a melt-down over three eyes!

She giggled internally; just wait until he found out she had two mouths, on her hands!
 
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Asher (And Ashley) Walkway to dorm -->

He enjoyed the soft mist of the fog around the school grounds, keeping him concealed from any prying eyes and refreshing. The calm of the grounds was doing wonders for Ash's worries. Worries about the kids he'd meet soon, worries of how they would react to him, worries about how Ashley would react to them. As of on cue, a soft giggly voice would erupt in his head. "I bet they'll be yummy." "Quiet." He hated it when his sister, or should he say the ghost of his sister, got excited. She always seemed to be more active when something new and interesting was going on, such as meeting new people that she might decide that they were better as food than friends. Ash shook his head to clear it, causing the long white hair that ran over one side of his face to wave slightly while the two monochrome wings that set on his back shuttered as he moved. The feathers would rustle slightly before settling back down as if they had a mind all their own.

Ash would let out a soft sigh. It was time to face the others. He hated this, meeting new people and having them stare at him. He would scratch at the side of his head that was covered in short jet black hair. Ashley's side of his body always seemed to disagree with him, itching or bothering him for no reason. Ash would smooth the long white hair down before picking up his messenger bag, he didn't own much.

As he made his way towards the dorm, he could hear some kind of racket coming from the lounge. He hoped against hope that his roommate, if he had to have one, was quiet and wouldn't bother him or try to touch him constantly. He hated when people tried to touch him and expectantly his wings, it felt like they were rubbing germs and oil all over his feathers which could cause them to tangle and become unhealthy. God, he felt like a bird, constantly needing to preen his feathers to keep them to his liking.

He would blink as he came up to the door, having walked all the way to the dormitory while he was worried about people touching him. He would let out another deep sigh. It was time. He would glance down at his over large shirt that fell past his hips and tight jeans, realizing he looked like some kind of hipster girl. Well, if anyone called him a girl he'd just have to kick them in the throat. "Such a great way to make friends." Ashley giggled in his ear. He would let out a soft growl, hating when his brain leaned to more harmful ideas. That was the way Ashley thought, not him. Still, he would ruffle and reset his feathers, making sure he looked rough and scary before he would open the door and step inside.

At first, everyone seemed to have their eyes on two boys who were chasing each other. Good, they weren't looking at him, maybe he could sneak away. He would pull his wings in close, undoing his rough and scary look unconsciously, and began to head towards the back of the lobby where the dorms should be. He kept his head down, his multi colored eyes on the floor, and his wings still and stiff, trying to disappear as quickly and sneakily as he possibly could before anyone noticed him.
 
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Orson Grey: Lounge ---> Hallway
Richard Grey: Lounge


Now that people had started to filter in, Orson and Rick receded into a corner and lowered the intensity of their twin fight to quiet bickering. Orson wanted to pull himself away entirely, but the fact that he’d just made a horrible first impression on the blonde girl who’d just walked in made him even more pissed at his brother.

More came in, a seemingly typical bunch of private school kids: a boy with an accent (German, possibly); a freckled girl; a boy with a bowl cut; a pale girl so pretty and unobtrusive that, when glancing at her, he somehow overlooked her lack of mouth… but what made both boys stop dead was the sight of the freckled girl push her hair out of the way to reveal a third eye, weeping some sort of black lachrymal fluid.

In a horrible instant, Orson realized precisely why he was at Dyer. (Rick, who had already guessed why they were there, was shocked but not horrified.) Orson gaped, desperately thinking about how his old school had already started its fall term and how there was no way he could get back in. It took Rick digging him in the ribs for him to break the prolonged, impolite stare he was giving her.

And so, Orson came to his senses. He knew he should probably apologize, and he also knew he had to leave the lobby (and possibly have a date night with his rescue inhaler). “I’m going to go check out my room,” he said. He gripped his suitcase with one hand and fished through his backpack with the other; he came out with a small packet of tissues, and made his egress by nervously offering them to her and immediately hurrying to the exit. He meant to say something conciliatory but failed to come up with anything appropriate.

He’d banked on having a clear route to the rooms, but it was not to be. His path of escape intersected with a girl’s. Yes, they must be a girl. She looked sort of punk and a bit intimidating, he thought, but at the same time strangely ethereal, with long white hair that looked like it was bleached because the other side was short and black, a set of what were maybe colored contacts, and… wings. Holy crap. Wings? Wings!

Orson adjusted his glasses, breaking into a nervous smile. He removed a sheet of paper from his pocket with clammy hands. “Oh, hello! Um, do you happen to know where room 203 is?”

------------------
Meanwhile, Rick now had time to survey the lounge. He’d really had no idea what kind of freaky shit he’d see here, but this was an incredible start; he had to assume that everyone here that looked passable as normal was hiding something, just as he was. He felt a desire to approach the nerdy-looking kid holding the banana and repeating the word “three,” since he seemed to be having a bit of a cow over the whole third eye situation. So he did.

“Yeah, you got it, dude. She has three eyes and it's metal as fuck, in my opinion. No need to stare,” he said lowly. He held out a hand. “My name is Rick, and I’m like… I don’t know, a werewolf or some shit? It’s a long story. So what’s the deal with you?”
 
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Jackie
Lounge


A third eye? Jackie was intrigued. Her reading on humans had told her that they associated three eyes with seeing the future and related abilities, but it always seemed to be metaphorical. It led to her thinking what they'd make of her. 359 eyes and counting, last she checked.

"Alright, that's cool. What does it do, read minds or something?" Jackie folded her arms as she sat down on a couch. Didn't hurt to be comfortable.
 
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Ansgar Staudinger - Dorm Lounge
*Note - Italicized speech is in German*

Ansgar had been focused on the piano, plonking away at it idly while people piled in. After that rather painful glance at whatever she was, the one with the aura he could still feel hurting his head, he had no interest in potentially exposing himself to another one like it. However, a young lady eventually made her way over to him, introducing herself in a rather stuttery manner. Glancing up, he seemed to look straight past her physical appearance, though a part of his mind registered the third eye and gave an idle mental shrug. Considering what he was seeing on a regular basis? A third eye was hardly something that really threw him for a loop. Small upside of what he saw on a regular basis, really, was that if, or when now, he was faced with the physically abnormal that others acknowledged, he was hardly phased by it. Not as much as some of the people present, including some young man who was repeating himself over and over. That boy's aura was shockingly yellow, not bright, but just an almost unpleasant shade of yellow. It curved rather oddly too, but he didn't waste much time thinking about that.

The three eyed girl's aura was oddly calm, despite her nervous manner of speaking that certainly did not match her initial expression. Out of the ones he had taken the time to think about, barring the one, it was the closest to a normal aura he had yet to see so far. Aura's were how he judged people on first impression, since it was more in line with who they were at a glance but, like many first impressions, they shifted and changed depending on the situation, emotional balances, all that jazz, as the Americans would say. He seemed silent for a moment too long, like he was looking through her, analyzing something that she herself couldn't see, before offering his hand to shake in greeting. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, AJ. Ansgar Staudinger.... Blast it, never been terribly good at introductions, terribly sorry about that." Unwittingly, Ansgar had fallen back into speaking German near the end, minor as it was this time. It was probably also a dead give away that he was not from the States at all. However, feeling a bit better, he scanned the room for anything else that stood out.

Skipping over Ms. Painful Aura, his gaze fell upon the one girl that had walked in recently, and a momentary point of confusion flashed through his head. Ansgar noted that the girl had no mouth, and considering no one else had reacted yet, well, he was mentally arguing with himself, again. Was this just some bleed over from her presence on the other side? Did she literally have no mouth? He had to know so that he could figure out how communication would work. He was hoping he could go at least a day without having to argue with himself on what was real, and on the first day here too! First proper one, at any rate. It certainly did not help that there were shadows of the two twins still rough housing, following what might have happened had no one interrupted, and the one that walked out, the calmer one, alongside the wilder one both had no shadows currently. Which was probably just his own vision playing tricks on him. The confusion was probably plain in his eyes, the subtle furrowing of his brows as he mentally argued with himself, completely lost in thought, a drastic shift from moments ago when he was speaking rather normally with Ms. Three eye.​
 
Anthony Musa

Truthfully, the fact that the girl had three eyes was not in and of itself the main issue (although, certainly, it was startling). You see, Anthony Musa was quite aware that he had not actively applied to Dyer Academy, and nor were his high school grades the type of grades that caused schools to go out of their way for recruitment purposes. Indeed, it must be said that Tony had some crazy crackpot - totally off the mark - theory, that Dyer Academy was just some sort of strange freak show under the guise of an educational institution.

He was closer than he thought, but still miles away from the truth.

Pulling his gaze away from the Three-Eyed One, his hand met Rick's in a handshake. A werewolf, he said he was, which Anthony Musa took to mean that he must have been hirsute. Yes, he enrolled here to treat his unfortunate condition of having an excessively hairy chest, certainly.

"I, uh, I'm Anthony. You can call me Tony. My deal?"

Hmm.

"I really like bananas." He said, finishing off the banana in his off-hand.


Rosa Psalms

Rosa had noticed the gaze.

"Wait, seriously, she has three eyes, and it's not okay that I don't have a mouth?"

The inquiry was muffled, as Rosa had opted to sit on her palms, some sort of shushed ventriloquism at work here. Granted, she wasn't particularly offended that her 'oddity' seemed to be the one that crossed the line. On the contrary, Rosa found it amusing. So, amusing, in fact, that it warranted one of her favorite tricks that she had been meaning to pull out.

She hopped in place, holding out her hands with her palms out, waving rapidly to and fro. One of her mouths made some obnoxiously nasal tone, in an attempt to recreate her mom's favorite Kenny G tunes.

"Get it? Jazz hands!"
 
Ash (And Ashley) --> Hallway --> Dorm 203


He thought he had made it out unseen, everyone else seemed to be busy either doing their own thing or staring at one of the other odd beings in the lounge. He thought wrong. Ash didn't actually notice the other student, one who had been chasing the other, had followed him into the hallway. The student's question gave Ash a slight jolt, though it probably just looked like his feathers were quivering. Still he would turn with a harsh glare in his multicolored eyes, as if challenging the other to come any closer. His wings would once again ruffle and then settle back in place, like a bird that was either prepared to fly away from danger or head on into it with it's claws out. There was only one person who bothered him more than this stranger who had followed him.

"Oooh, he looks yummy." Ash would give a visible wince as his sister popped into his head. He guessed that she was probably just trying to get on his nerves rather than actually wanting to attack the guy but he could never tell when it came to Ashley. Still, he had a menacing presence to uphold.

"What do I look like? A map?" He arched a brow at the other, a slight snarl being carried with his words. But it was still sad, his voice didn't sound like he thought it should. He knew his voice should be deeper by his age though physical issues had kept his vocal cords from developing those nice low notes most boys his age could hit. Instead he was just a little bit under an alto, almost to a tenor but not quite. His voice didn't help his appearance be any more manly and, therefore in his mind, less dangerous when it came to confronting possible trouble makers.
 
Orson Grey: Hallway
Richard Grey: Lounge


"No! No, that's not what I meant, I mean, you just look like a cool, uh... like a person..." Oh, God. Words were not his friend today. Politeness, as well as an acute sense of alarm, kept him from bringing up the wings. "I'm sorry if you saw me acting like a jerk in there. Because that's totally not how I do things. It's my brother. He likes pushing my buttons in front of people; I think it's his favorite hobby, other than trying to break the local keg stand record." Another (hopefully) placating smile.

Orson glanced at the doors nearby--101 through 110--and made a few inferences. 203 must be a floor up, and he'd get there with or without Mystery Hipster--who had seemed to wince at him, which was odd. Orson did not consider himself to be intimidating. In fact, he graph-paper-patterned shirt collar peeping out of his blue sweater--as well as the rounded glasses--screamed "goober." The type of kid that, years ago, was made to play monkey-in-the-middle with his handmade planetary diorama.

Since he wasn't in the mood for climbing stairs, Orson took a few steps toward a nearby elevator and punched UP button. Clunky mechanical noises sputtered to life somewhere above, instigating the painfully slow descent of the cab.
---------------------------------
"Nice to meet you, Tony. You like... bananas, huh?" Rick raised his eyebrows as he looked at the newly-created peel in Tony's hand. Well, there was the proof, he supposed. "That's cool, dog. They're a versatile fruit."

"Woah!" For some reason, Rick found the lack of mouth on Rosa way more disturbing than that other girls third eye. When she started talking, his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out where in Hell the sound was coming from. Was she beaming it telepathically into his brain?! Well, at least she wasn't shy about her condition; that seemed... healthy? Or maybe just super-nutso. "Haha, okay. That was a pretty good joke, I really have to... hand it to you." He tried to return a pun with equal enthusiasm, but failed to hide how unsettled he was.

Even so, he still felt relieved to be here among what were (presumably) his own kind, even if they were off by a facial feature or two. Life at home had started to become sort of unsustainable, and this school represented a real deus ex machina for Rick Grey. The kids around him totally vindicated all the crazy stuff he'd been seeing his entire life, and maybe he was finally going to get answers.

He took out his phone, remembering that Joy would be expecting a text once he'd found the dorms and all was well. His friends were all curious about his enrollment, too (most of them had not believed the Dyer part at all; the most accepted theory around town was that he was finally being shipped off to a military school to be straightened out). Unfortunately, his cell wasn't getting any coverage. At all. Or finding any wi-fi networks, for that matter. He noticed that, on one of the room's end tables, sat a single black rotary phone. Well, shit. This did not bode well for the next two years of his life.
 
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