Each had a different mode of arriving, but all were there, right on time. Ian walked, prefering to stop every so often and foil the plot of street performers and illusionists by exposing the secret, laughing a bit before giving them a twenty dollar bill and walking off. He was more than happy to share his money as he knew how it felt to be poor. Hell, all three of them did, though Cecil took his prefered mode of getting anywhere. He looked as wild and free as can be as he used parquor to jump and climb from buildings to fire escapes to another building yet again as he moved about, flashing past the slower paced Ian, even though the wild spirited man left later than both he and Michel. The ginger haired dancer, probably the most sensable of them, took a subway up to the nearest exit to the school, he not yet having moved into his appartment that was closer by the school. He didnt mind the ride, though, as it gave him a chance to see the way the city worked and what sort of improv and street dancing he could pull off here by mixing in this big city culture. A sly smile spread across his lips before he pulled a small map from his shoulder-bag, looking it over for a moment before the subway stopped and he shuffled out with everyone else, following the natural flow of people to the large, prestigeous dance academy.
Now standing in front of the entryway as others crammed themselves in, the three men, each only a year appart from the next, silently took in the sight of the towering building, one larger than even some of the coastline castles they had seen back in Ireland a brief comment back and forth about it ensued before there was little more to be done than to see if they could make their way in. Both Ian and Michel were supprised that Cecil was able to be tamed enough to actually stand still on the ground for more than five seconds in his new environment, a concrete, iron, and glass jungle in its basic essence. They eventually made their way into the halls of the grand school, but found that as the main room that was just ahead was far too crowded for any of their likings, they set it to theirselves to explore their new learning environment. It would take the trio quite a while to get used to the rather congested feeling of a big city. Even when Michel moved into the states nine years ago, he stayed in a reletivly small city. Nothing to the scale of this. In the small group's wanderings, they found themselves upon the sixth floor of the grand building, surrounded by group, and personal dance studios.
Entering the smallest of them all, the one at the end of the hall, the group found themselves in awe at the easle that they were left alone to paint with their creative inspirations of their minds and hearts. None of them knew of their friend's secret liniage, and honestly, they didnt want to know of eachother's pasts. They had all made a pact as children to never speak of it, though Cecil was the most obvious of the three. He was always called the 'monkey' or the 'wild man' among them, and never grew out of it. They didnt know the specifics of his history, but they didnt ask and he didnt tell. The other two, however were far less pronounced, and they never showed the rest of their group their alternate forms, and werent planning on it. In any case, none of them thought of the matter, nor brought it up, and though the urge to begin plotting out another performance that Cecil had in mind was strong, Ian reigned the group in. He had no music prepaired, and even more important, as Michel brings to the group, they were meant to be downstairs. Reluctantly, they all began to decend down to the more appropirate level once more, though allong the way, Ian and Cecil left off to explore some classrooms, leaving Michel to return to the main gathering.
A few seemingly shy looking people were in the hall, though Michel pressed on to see what the epicenter of the crowding held. Very few people noticed him come in, something that the first year student appreciated, but now, as he looked about, he wasnt so sure who he should talk to. His eyes caught to a couple of people, but there wasnt anyone he was really drawn to talk to that wasnt already occupied. With a bit of a sigh, he leaned up against the wall, pulling his grey hoodie up around his shoulders a bit more. His hood was off and it was unzipped, showing a darker grey, nearly black shirt underneath, complimenting his dark, but torn jeans. Most would think the attire a bit too casual for such an acclaimed event, but considering his old background, Michel could easily call this dressing up.
