The Reluctant Princess and her Guardian (Nydanna & Tenchi)

[ᴛᴏᴄᴋᴀ]

Jocelyn Turner head began to nod, the lids of her eyes lowering each time her head lowered. A few times she managed to jerk her head up and give it a slow shake before she could doze off, but this time she was down for the count, the teacher's droning voice at the front of the classroom too difficult to fight. Her eyes slowly drifted closed, her head lowering until it rest against the desktop in front of her. She was seconds away from drifting off to sleep when a sharp snap of fingers above her ear startled her out of her rested state, her body jerking in her seat and her head snapping up. Tilting her face toward the man standing in the aisle, she blinked sleepily up at him as the rest of her classmates laughed out loud at her antics. "Miss Turner, do you think you could stay awake and share with the class the reason behind Civil War started?" Came the monotone voice of her teacher, a potbellied, balding middle aged man by the name of Mister Edwards. The redhead blinked again at the question, her brows furrowing into a thoughtful scowl before she gave him the answer he had requested. "Because the south wanted to secede from the union. Can I go back to sleep now?" She replied, causing another outburst of laughter from her classmates.


The teacher however was not amused. Shaking his head, he snapped his fingers, pointing toward the door. "To the principal's office, Miss Turner." He commanded in a voice that showed a bit more emotion than his typical speaking voice, and Jocelyn had no other option than to comply with his wishes. It was the third time that week she'd been sent the principal's office for falling asleep in class, and she knew her aunt Alicia was not going to be happy with it at all, but Jocelyn honestly couldn't help it. She hadn't had a decent night's sleep in the past week, and now all she wanted to do while in class was doze off. She'd tried fighting it as long as she could, and she almost succeeded this time around; if only her teacher's voice wasn't so boring.


Jocelyn was a rather odd girl by even the lowest of standards, but given her history it really wasn't much of a surprise. Born to Samuel and Tara Turner, she was the youngest child and only daughter to a perfectly happy couple. Unfortunately, her father died only a week after her birth, and from that moment on her mother blamed Jocelyn for his death; as if the infant had been the one behind the wheel of the car that had crashed into his. Life went downhill from Jocelyn from there. Her mother became psychotic, claiming that Jocelyn was a demon who had taken over the body of her infant, and refusing to take care of her daughter. It was only thanks to her aunt Alicia that Jocelyn survived, her father's sister taking over Jocelyn's care while her own mother wanted very little to do with the girl.


It was on Jocelyn's third birthday that everything came to a head when her mother decided to show the world the demon that she really was by trying to slice her open with a knife. Again luck was on Jocelyn's side in the form of her older brother who had walked into the kitchen in time to catch his mother stabbing the little girl in the shoulder. Tara was carried off to the nearest asylum, while Jocelyn was taken to the Emergency room to get fifteen stitches and spend the rest of her birthday in the hospital. She still carried the scars of that day, the physical wound having healed long ago, while the emotional scars still remained untouched. It wasn't that she was a bitter, angry person, but Jocelyn had major trust issues, along with social problems that no one could even begin to comprehend. She was a loner by her own choosing, and she enjoyed it that way. Her aunt and brother had been trying for years to remedy it, but Jocelyn liked being alone. People were strange, she had learned that early on, but at the same time, she never quite fit in anywhere that she went.


The difference started the moment that Jocelyn could first pick up a crayon and draw. Her talent at even that young age couldn't be denied by anyone, but her drawings always had a freakishly odd quality to them; they were all premonitions. No one picked that up until the day she drew a picture of her brother wearing a cast, and later that week Thomas had fallen out of a tree and broke his arm. From that moment on her only remaining relatives remained silent about her strange talent, but each time they saw her with a pencil in her hand they would begin to panic.


The other differences weren't so easy to notice, from her strange eating behaviors, to the types of clothing that she wore. Her aunt always believed that it was Jocelyn showing her individuality, but when it became apparent that wasn't the case, Jocelyn was sent to whatever doctor her aunt could find, and forced into counseling to find out what was going on inside her head. Eventually it all boiled down to Jocelyn being emotionally scarred due to her mother's attitude toward her, along with a major case of ADHD. They gave her pills and sent her on her way without even considering that there was nothing wrong with her at all, but that she simply didn't feel like she belonged.


Now that idea was being enforced by her teacher, who looked on sternly as she gathered her things and threw her backpack over her shoulder. She tried not to let her smugness show on her face, but she could not help but gloat over the fact that he had gotten under the man's skin. He must have caught sight of her smirk, because he was quick to change his tune. "Actually, miss Turner, how about you simply stay behind after school for detention? I believe that Mister Greene has dealt with you enough this year."

Dropping back down into her seat, her arms folded across her chest, and her eyes narrowed heatedly up at the man. There was no way she could get out of detention, and she was most likely going to hear an ear full from her brother and aunt when she returned home. With a trip to the principal's office, she could have given them some excuse, but with detention she would have to give her aunt a reason. Slumping down in her seat, she caught a glimpse of the boy seated beside her, hazel eyes flickering with unspoken questions briefly before the lids narrowed into a tiny glare. Like the rest of her classmates, Haydn wasn't someone that Jocelyn made a point to talk to, but unlike her other peers she often found herself rather curious about him. She couldn't pin point exactly what it was that made him stand out from other people, but he didn't get on her nerves the way most of the people in her classes did. She shrugged it off as a fluke, but it certainly didn't stop her eyes from drifting over to him again once she was certain he wasn't paying her any attention. Eventually he would prove himself to be like everyone else, and he would be added to the extensive list of people who annoyed her. Until then, she was going to watch and wait to see just how long it took before he began to irk her the same way everyone else did.

 

[Rashuad-012]

From filling out flanking plans for approaching armies, to talking about them in World History. The Civil War was a bloody war, but it's tactics were all wrong. It bothered Hayden to hear about the fall of a capablr army who could have prevailed with proper organization. Instead of the British using numbers and brute force, they could have coordinated attacks using catipults and cannons from the sea. Proper angling would give them enough range to thin out the ranks, then later send in a clean up platton to finish the stragglers. The Americans could have set up traps and proper barricades, or prepared early ahead of the British by digging underground base of operations. War is time consuming, war is work--hard and grueling. If one fails to put in the proper effort for war, they are bound to failure.

Hayden tapped his foot impatiently against the front leg of his desk, holding his head up lazily in his left hand as he watched the teacher go back and forth with Jocelyn. Hearing her words of sarcasm and smart remarks seemed to stand out to Hayden more than her other traits. This was because he was sent to make a review of her maturity, then see if she is fit to take a place in her true society. And so far, she seemed.... a bit human to put it bluntly. If Hayden couldn't sense her growing power and recognize her unique purple hair, he would have mistaken her easily for another common human girl. That would have been hard to explain to the Queen.

After seeing the teacher take his personal shots at Jocelyn, Hayden took it upon himself 'teach the teacher'. He smirked and lifted his index finger from his cheek, then gestured a quickl flick with it. Suddenly, the teacher's arm became paralyzed in place. Instantly picking up on this, the other students around looked on with confusion while the teacher felt his arm in worry. Just then, Hayden flicked his finger towards his cheek making the teacher slap himself. He was met with a few chuckles, and with a quick series of rapid flicks, Hayden made the scoundrel repeatbly slap himself over and over again.

 

[ᴛᴏᴄᴋᴀ]

Still sulking over the fact that at least one hour of her free time was going to be sucked up by detention, Jocelyn sunk into her seat, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes still narrowed at her teacher. Her glare faded into wide eyed amusement as he froze mid speech and began rubbing at his arm. 'Heart attack' was her first thought, but that ended when his arm rose and he began to slap himself across the face. 'Oh look, I've finally driven him insane.' She mused with delight, joining the rest of her classmates in a laugh at her teacher's expense. It was the flicker of movement at her side the finally drew her attention away from her teacher and onto Hayden. It was simple gesture really, one she had done a dozen times when she was bored and needed to exert some energy. It looked as if he was tapping his finger against his cheek, and she might have brushed it off as a mere coincidence had the motion of his fingers fallen in sync with the slaps delivered to her teacher's cheek.

'Just my imagination.' She thought to herself, but she could not turn her eyes away from Hayden, studying him closely to see if she was imagining things or not. Unfortunately for her, the bell sounded, and the class began to disburse before she could understand exactly what was going on. Shaking her head to clear herself of her ridiculous thoughts, Jocelyn snatched up her backpack and began to walk towards the door, growling under her breath when the teacher called out. "I will see you at two thirty, Miss Turner." Unable to control her mouth, the girl turned back to the man, a mischievous smirk on her face. She knew she'd be getting another day of detention out of it, but it would certainly be worth it. "Are you going to perform your slapping act again? I don't have nearly enough crazy people in my life. Maybe they can stick you in a padded cell next to my mother." She hardly found her mother's attempt on her life funny in any way, but watching Edwards get all red in the face with his anger was definitely the high point of an already crappy day. Her assumption that she would get another day of detention was proven wrong when she received it for the rest of the week, but she at least got a laugh at watching the man get all flustered.

It was off to her next class, Algebra, which was equally as pointless for her as history was. She never understood why they insisted on teaching the same things over and over again, and the majority of it was absolutely useless in the real world. 'And they wonder why so many people are thirty years old and still living at home with mommy and daddy.' She scoffed, shuffling her way through the crowded hallways to get to her next class. She was still convinced that she did not belong there, perhaps in another time, but certainly not in this one. People her age were idiots too wrapped up with who was making out with whom, and when the next party was. No one cared about the fact that they were a few months from graduation and they would be heading out for the real world where reality would slap them across the face. 'What do I care? After high school I never have to see any of these idiots again.' That certainly couldn't happen soon enough for her.

She made it to her class with a few seconds to spare, her body dropping into her desk, but she made no move at all to gather her books from her bag. Fortunately for her, the teacher here rarely paid attention, and she could nap as much as she wanted to without getting in trouble as long as she turned her homework assignment in the next day. Propping her head up with her hand, Jocelyn let her eyes slide shut and her mind drift off, trying to think of anything at all that was more interesting than equations.

 

[Rashuad-012]

His next class was an hour away in his mind, when really it was nonexistent. Hayden's IQ surpassed the majority of the school's inhabitants. That played as both an insult and a compliment; them being insulted and he being complimented. It granted him the option to come and go as he pleased, or sign a few papers and he could be on his way to college in their world. But what would be the point in that? Elven society may still believe in the sword and shield, but they're still far ahead of human reckoning. Bridges made of indestructible ironbark, houses constructed inside the base of massive golden trees with lush, green tops that tickled the sky. Thier insides would glow a tranquil light of teens and blues, teals and cyans as the night sky drapes over the land.

Hayden could remember his home well. The sound of the cool breeze brushing through his silver hair, with the rush of the cool, stream under the Royal garden bridges. He can still smell beef roast in the distance, the audible chimes of harps, tunes of flutes, the strum of guitars, and smooth whistles of flutes in his mind. The music sounded so clear and easing for it to be an illusion. And yet, his senses returned to reality; back to the pale colored lockers of the empty halls.

He awoke from his daydream in the central hallway of B-building. As he looked, he realesed a quiet sigh as he took in the modern cave that was the human world. A realm trapped in greed and suffering, the ever prideful starting wars on the ground, and senseless debates in politics. Maybe it was also a test? Maybe the queen wanted to send her child's guardian to assess the mortal world and see if it was ready for her existence? So far, the answer was no.

 

[ᴛᴏᴄᴋᴀ]

The rest of her classes up until lunchtime were all completely boring, and what she considered a waste of her time. She wanted to sleep through them all, but unfortunately every one her teachers seemed to be honed in on her lethargy and made it a point to pay her extra attention. Once lunchtime finally rolled around, she was eager to get out of the building for a breath of fresh air and some space around the idiots in her class. Most of the students left campus for lunch, a freedom that only seniors were entitled to, but without a car, and not a huge fan of fast food to begin with, she was forced to remain at the school. It didn't faze her too much since rarely did anyone bother going outside. She had her own little spot on the opposite side of the baseball fields, closer to the small patch of woods at the back of the school building.

That was where she sat, silently, doing nothing at all but trying to clear her mind of the endless prattling of her teachers and classmates. She hated the need for constant noise, as if everyone thought the world would come to an end if they suddenly went silent. Jocelyn preferred it, but she also seemed to enjoy a great many things most people her age did not. She actually liked reading, not the senseless dribble that her teachers tried to stuff down her throat, but actual stories that held a point to them rather than a state requirement. She liked healthy food, and would not touch fast food if it was standing between her and starvation. She hated what people called music, and she couldn't stand TV or movies. She was an oddball if there ever was one, and her classmates picked up on that in a heartbeat. The fact that her own mother had attempted to kill her certainly didn't help, and when her first grade teacher decided to warn the class ahead of time of Jocelyn's circumstances, the stigma carried over through the rest of her years in school. She was Jocelyn the freak, whose own mother couldn't even stand her, but strangely she liked the reputation; it kept others away from her.

On this particular lunch break, Jocelyn wasn't focused on her classmates, or bothered by anything at all. She was too busy drawing, the only thing that she actually enjoyed in her life. That wasn't to say she was neglected or deprived of attention, if anything her older brother and aunt often suffocated her with it, but Jocelyn could only tolerate it for so long. She loved her family, but there were times that she wished they would simply leave her alone. Yes, she felt like an outcast at home as well, although she never let it bother her.

So she sat, her sketchbook held on her crossed legs and her head bowed over its pages reverently, the pencil in her hand flying over the paper in a flurry. Today she wasn't really drawing anything in particular, simply letting the pencil move as it wanted to. However, the image that became apparent on in the book was one that was all too familiar, and one that she honestly could not get out of her head. 'No more Tolkien for me.' She grumbled as she stared down into the regal face of the woman who constantly haunted her thoughts. One day she'd figure out exactly why she was so fascinated with the woman, but for now, Jocelyn was content to simply draw away and figure out who she was at another time.