The STRANGE: Origins

"His voice is so annoying," sighed the young man as he stared into the mirror, referencing the voice over the intercom. Red eyes stared back at a dark complexion, though the skin was starting to leak. 'Why is it always so hot?' He thought, rubbing his hand through his brown hair. 'I blame you, Jaggerjack.'
'Me? You throw the fault at my name, but I assure you, I am not the one to blame.'
'Really, Jaggerjack? I have a GOD OF FIRE living in my body and, don't get me wrong, the benefits are great, but I'm pretty sure that god would be responsible for this constant heat emanating from my body.'
'...If it's my heat that you hate to weather, why do you insist on wearing a sweater?'
'Not the point!...and it's a jacket.'
As he argued with his inner demon (pun intended), Sam realized that he hated poems.

 

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Anya Kurse heard the announcement, but paid it no heed. "A benefit to society huh? Bullshít..." she mumbled.
She was currently located on the rooftop. It was a perfect place for her. No one hardly ever came up here, and even those that did, the moment they saw her, they usually left. It was the perfect place to not be bothered by anyone else. It was the perfect place where she could be alone. Which is just how she liked things. She needed no one, she trusted no one, it was how she survived and how she would continue to do so. She was technically on school grounds too, so it's not like she was currently breaking any rules. Well... other than the fact that she was meant to be studying, but what she did with her free time was up to her.
She closed her eyes, no longer wishing to look towards the sky. It represented freedom. A freedom which no student here had.
Anya had tried once to escape before, but naturally... she had failed and was punished appropriately. Only her regeneration had gotten her through the torturous punishment that had awaited her. By all accounts, she was lucky she got off with what she had. Even though that was still hell. But Anya cared not for hell. She cared not for anything.
For now she just lay here, biding her time. Even if a teacher came up here, they would see she was making no attempt to escape. So she really didn't care if she was found here or not.
Nothing lasts forever. Neither can this.

 

As the announcement rang out, a smallish girl paused for a moment to listen before shaking her head and continuing to walk once it finished. She glanced back behind her to see her friends chattering away about something or other, normally she would have been there chattering away with them but lately she'd been feeling a bit out of it. She'd been restless, and their chatter did not hold her interest anymore.

The announcement had not helped the way she was feeling. She hated exams, she did not see the point in them at all. She did not know much about the outside world but she was pretty sure if you did a job, they wouldn't just stick you in a room for a set period of time and force you to answer silly questions. At least she hoped they wouldn't. That was the other thing that had been bothering her, all she knew about the outside world she'd been told. What if they'd lied to her? She wouldn't know any better. She wasn't sure she truely believed that they'd lied but still, she'd been feeling so trapped and she just wanted to see it with her own eyes.

It was silly, her feeling trapped, she was the Ghost after all. She could walk straight through these walls that made up her prison, and she could turn invisible so they wouldn't be able to see her or catch her. She could go out and look and return before they even knew she'd gone, she had the perfect powers for it. Yet despite this, she never did, something always stopped her from making the leap of faith and doing it. Maybe it was the fear of getting caught or of the unknown that laid beyond the walls. Maybe it was not wanting to lose what she had here. Maybe it was just who she was, she was R-Class, she wasn't a rebel. Yet the feeling had been growing over the past few weeks and more and more she found herself debating it. She hugged her sketch pad close to her chest.
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At the time of the announcement, a slightly-taller-than-average boy was weaving through the small crowed of students to get to his history class with Professor Daniels. He frowned slightly when he heard that exams were next week. He always did well on them, but he never really liked taking them.

He didn't like Mondays, as everyone usually didn't, so there wasn't really a distinct reason he didn't like them. He also wasn't a fan of Wednesdays. Thursdays were alright, and then Fridays were his second favorite. Tuesdays. Every week, he looked forward to Tuesdays. The musical program at the school was divine, such a great program, so many talented players - he was always happy to be among one of the top, and it was the one place he really felt at home . . . Still, he couldn't say that he didn't like Professor Daniels - he was a great teacher, very thorough in explaining everything. Sometimes, though, Nix wondered.

Nix was always wondering. Always wondering what the real sky looked like, what the fresh air outside really smelled like. What the world was really like. Always wondering. He would produce his fantasies of what he wanted the world to look like through his music, such beautiful sights in his mind.

"Also, will the individual who used acid to graffiti the men's bathroom on the 2nd floor please report to my office. This means you Edward."

Nix also wondered about students who got in trouble, for even the most meaningless pranks. One wouldn't see the punished for a while after being called to Mr. Blood's office.

"You are here to help benefit society."

Society, what society? There was no "society".

But Nix was a musician, not a fighter.

And so he walked into Room 105.​

 

A conscripted soldier, taking orders from veiled authoritive figures.
That's what Lance felt he was, as the voice over the intercom informed them all of what was expected of them today. Or so he believed. It was a matter of opinion as to whether or not he could truly feel anything, whether he was really who he thought he was, or just some machine that thought he had been human. What did it matter anymore; there was no past for him, nor anyone else, and his belief was as good as theirs.
Despite all their complainings, people never tried to escape. Sure, occasionally sometimes the staff would report a failed escape, a student would go missing and be proclaimed dead due to the 'many high-level security measures', but where was the evidence? Fights broke out sometimes. Powers would go out of control, a student would forget to hold back just a little, and bang, you had a dead student, sometimes without even a body.
No, he was sure of the truth without even thinking about it: truely the most dangerous security measure this school had was the threat of dangerous security measures. And as he entered Room 105, he realised that he really didn't care one bit.

 

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The voice of Mr. Blood, the dear School Counselor amplified into the four walls of Frida Logan's room. The young girl groaned, getting her arms free from under her sheets and grabbing every pillow that surrounded her, throwing them onto her head roughly with the hopes of completely blocking out the noise from the speakers.

Morning announcements.
Ugh. Just, shut up Mr. Blood! No one wants to hear you.

A short while after, there was a little crackle through the speakers that signaled the announcement to be over. The young girl breathed a sigh of relief. However, to her dismay, the morning announcement had already woken her completely and there was no returning to her sweet slumber. Realizing that she had lost her last hold onto the hopes of returning to sleep that day, she shoved her pillows out of the way and stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Acid-graffit." she mumbled, "How incredibly minor, Edward." she then spat out. She didn't actually even know this vandelizing fellow, but she just needed something, in this case someone, to be bitter to. Frida absolutely hated mornings. Getting up for school - to actually start learning - was the worst part of them all. Yet, she always seemed to get to it anyway. She began to untangle herself from the mess of sheets that wrapped around her little body like a cocoon. Once she was free of its grasp, she walked over to her desk where she grabbed a brush and began to comb her candy coloured locks.

Frida's vibrant hair was completely natural - at least, in a sense. Frida Logan is classified under the G-class meaning that she had been genetically mutated to form her into the being that she was now. That being was known to be the petite little lady with a lot of spark - literally. Yes, that meant she could cause a few sparks here and there. If she could, she would cause a whole shebang of incredibly fascinating but deadly sparks for her school. She really would if she could - and she can because Frida's powers were incredible and she knew that for herself. However, that would just backfire on her and that would destroy all the fun in her life. Fun usually being finding things to mess with and having trouble chase after her mischievous tail.

Frida pursed her glossed lips and ran her fingers through her hair one last time as she looked at her reflection on the mirror. Deciding that she looked decent enough, she grabbed her bag that contained all sorts of junk and some books and made her way down the hall after closing the door to her room tightly. She walked ignorantly past the other students, walking in the center of the hall like she always does, not caring if she passed in between individuals conversing. As she walked, Frida began to wonder how study week would go about. She began to juggle the thoughts of ever studying at all this week or actually trying. When she did study, it was usually because there was absolutely nothing else to do. Her grades seemed to do fine without it, but at the same time she could be doing a lot better.

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Room 105 finally appeared in Frida's line of vision. Of course, it wasn't much of a long walk. The petite girl was still just trying to get over the fact that the morning announcement had unpleasantly interrupted her slumber, which made everything a little more sour at the moment. She had a displeased and annoyed look on her face as she followed towards the room after the boy with dark hair- unable to recall his name simply because she didn't really care. Another male, however, stood by the door frame peering out into the hall as she entered. She eyed at him as she passed. Now, She knew of him slightly but with what she knew, Frida was certain she'd rather not know anymore. This white haired man was powerless - in a sense. He had no superhuman powers but was just really skilled in other things, which is impressive but not to the small girl with a lot of spark. Frida took much pride in her powers, and thought little of people who had none. It felt unfair to her, that they were treated the same way people like her were - who obviously have something a little more special. Of course, to Frida's dismay, not everyone thought the same as her. Hell, the class for today - History and Geography - was taught by a non-power user. The teacher was known as Professor Daniels. He's known to be a nice man who was close to some students, but Frida didn't like him one bit. She always had one thought in her mind while he spoke or was at her presence. He didn't deserve to be teaching here. Maybe it would be acceptable if he taught those who had no super powers either, but to teach a class with some or most students who had great super powers was always off to her. He didn't deserve to teach superpowered students such as herself. Frida always felt that she, a genetically mutated super power user, was far greater in respect to mere non-super power users - even her own professor.

Always with a bitter thought about this class, along with her bitterness towards this specific morning, she slumped into a seat somewhere relatively in the center of the room and closest to the door. When the class ends, she would have a quick escape route but also, she was sure to keep distance from Professor Daniels. Lucky for her, since it was study week, the torment of this class wouldn't last as long as it usually would. Quickly, she scanned the other students who already made their way into this classroom. They weren't plenty, but it was a fine number for the current time of day. A sigh escaped her lips, she sort of wished no one was around yet. She didn't wish to converse or even see other students yet. It was just far too early for her, especially during such a horrible morning she's been having (even if it usually went like this). She straightened up, properly fixed her things by laying some notebooks and books on her desk and placing her bag away beside her neatly and cleared her throat before saying, "No one talk to me. If you do, I will personally make your morning as terrible as mine." She didn't look directly at anyone, and simply just addressed it to everyone in the room or anyone who seemed to be listening. With that done, she folded her skinny arms onto her desk and lay her head on them shutting her eyes wishing only for the morning to be over.

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Alice quickened her pace slightly as she walked to class, having just spotted a clock. She'd been too caught up in her thoughts to have been paying attention to time. She didn't care much for the exams but that didn't mean she wanted to get into trouble and today she was cutting it much closer than usual. She gripped her sketchpad closer to her chest and her hair flew out behind her as she made her way to room 105. She was determined not to run and make a scene. She was just well aware of both the time ticking away and of anyone looking in her direction.

She flew round a corner and was relieved to see her room, not started as of yet. She slowed her pace to enter the room and flashed a smile at the white haired guy in the doorway before he moved to sit down. She didn't know his name but he seemed nice enough. Perhaps today wouldn't be quick so bad after all. She quietly slipped round him and took her seat, taking her stuff out of her bag. She didn't care that much for the subjects but she'd listen and probably fill a page with doodles by the end of the lesson. She just sat back and smiled at anyone who looked her way, she wasn't in the best of moods but everyone else seemed so miserable.
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Nix had since situated himself comfortably at a desk in the back corner. It wasn't that he was anti-social or anything, but he usually prefers people to talk to him first. He watched as the students of the various other classes walked into the room, observing each of them a bit. He recognized a few of them, the fully-armored one named Lance, another, and another . . . faces he recognized, but didn't know.

He lazily set his head on his desk, still silently detesting Monday mornings. For a few more minutes, it was quiet, and then someone must have come in, mentioning how he was probably not the only one who didn't want to be here. Nix, of course, didn't look up or say anything to agree, but he nodded, rubbing his forehead against its resting place on his arm.

Quietly, he wondered what thoughts were flowing through the minds of the other students and -

"No one talk to me. If you do, I will personally make your morning as terrible as mine."

At this, Nix sat up, his red eyes dancing around for the owner of that voice; a girl with candied-color hair and fairly pale skin. Ah yes, that one . . . He only recognized because of the hair, but . . . she wasn't the most delightful to be around. He had seen her a few times before and each time, her behavior was more dislikable - she was prideful and feisty, always one to speak her mind, and not that he really minded it much at all, but it was annoying when someone came stalking into class, in a mood that's less than content, and then not even caring that more than half of the room is feeling the same.

Then again, she was G-Class.

He saw one more girl walk into class, with a quick smiled passed to the N-Class student hanging out in the door way and then finding he seat swiftly after doing so.

Nix laid his head back on his desk - it was Monday. He hated Mondays. Smile through it . . .​

 

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As she rested her head on her skinny arms, she found her mind rambling on a couple things: She could feel her lashes gently grazing over the top of her wrist. Mornings were absolutely ridiculous. She probably shouldn't have announced to the class about not wanting to be spoken to - since no one was really talking at all, though there was nothing she could do about it now and not that she cared to do anything about it. More students started entering the room - their footsteps were ringing in her ears. Why did she wear the outfit she was wearing at the moment, A black, white collared, sleeveless dress which had some white detailing and stopped at the mid-thigh length along with black knee high socks, sneakers, and star earrings to match. She should have not wasted the outfit on a silly, unimportant Monday. Why couldn't they just have hands on training instead? Did History and geography even matter when she could just zap through appliances to gain information ASAP? However, the most current thought was:

Why did someone sit next to me? It's not the only unoccupied seat, for sure.

Hearing the chair beside her shift, Frida opened her eyes immediately. Without raising her head from her arms, she slowly turned to look at the individual who decided to sit beside her so early in the day. Her rosey coloured eyes caught the familiar face of the white-haired boy who stood by the door frame a while ago. The non-power user. A small grunt escaped her when she laid her eyes on the man. The nerve of this guy... sitting beside me? Oh, today will not be good at all. With her laziness overpowering her disgust towards what was currently happening, she simply rolled her eyes away from the guy trying to ignore him. However, as she took a quick glance again, the boy was looking at her with a smug expression on his face. A second of rage hit her and her fists clenched and teeth gritted together. She just glared at him for a moment juggling her options on how to react to this. She could stand up and leave for another seat, maybe a few rows back or she could stand up and teach this guy a thing or two. However, with Frida not being a morning person, she decided to fall to her third option: to remain in her seat, let her mind go manic over things she wanted to say to this boy at the moment but would probably end up regretting after, and just try and survive another Monday. Rather immaturely, she raised her head slightly to this boy, stuck her little pink tongue out at him and sharply faced the opposite direction.

Really? Just. Ugh. Where's Professor Daniels?
I can't believe I'm even thinking of this. A number of other students had already entered, where the hell is that man? The faster he gets here, the closer it gets for this to be over.

The petite girl released a little huff.

Mondays are silly.

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"Er...hey."

From how close that greeting sounded, it was probably being addressed to her. This was a problem. Why? It seemed to be coming from the one beside her. The white-haired man. The non-power user.

She raised her head and looked at the man who dared speak to her - even after her announced warning. The white-haired, non-power user man really was addressing her. Okay. That's it. This guy is totally just disrespecting someone he should have thought over before messing with. Non-power users. They're always so rude, clueless, nonchalant and utterly useless. She was absolutely ready to bash at him with the thoughts that ran through her crazed mind. However when she opened her mouth to speak, she found herself shutting them together because the boy began to speak even more.

"I'm not dreaming, am I? Is this place--and you--for real? It's all a little...strange."

That silenced her. Completely. She stared at him blankly for a moment, only blinking as a response. Did the man really just say what she thought she had heard? Was this some kind of sick joke? Was this to piss her off in one way or another? She just blinked again, motionless for a moment. Suddenly, Frida broke herself from her silence and bursts into an array of giggles. She didn't embarrass herself greatly from giggling so much, since she wasn't much of a loud individual - however the room was very quiet so maybe that told another story. She pushed against the table, causing a grinding noise on the ground as she straightened herself up to speak with this boy more properly. "A-are you for real?" she says to him in between giggles.

Oh my golly, this guy. He's actually really amusing me right now. Who knew that N-classmen were actually worth some time? 'I'm not dreaming, am I?' oh my. And 'strange'? Is he trying to make some kind of bad pun? Oh dear. Someone hold me. I dont' know if I can stop this hilarity. And for a short time, she laughs for a bit more but then she licks her rose-tinted lips and clears her throat. "You're really something. Hah. You're so pathetic. Am I dreaming? Are you even serious? No, don't tell me. You're high or something, aren't you?" she says rather jokingly, but still with a rash, sarcastic tone. She gives the situation another quick chuckle before finally taking what the white-haired man said more seriously. Frida smirked at him. "You know, if you like, I can totally just use my powers and zap some sense into you. Would you like that?" she said, making sure she emphasized the word 'powers'. She definitely did want to electrically shock someone right now. It would make for her a much better morning and as of now, this boy was at the top of her list in the 'morning zaps'.

Then, she gives the man a decent smile, "I can tell you now though that I, myself being Frida Logan if you'd like to know a fantastic super powered lass, am very much legitamate. I'm as real as anyone in the whole school is ever going to get."

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Alice's pencil glided over her paper, drawing all sorts of doodles that were probably good enough to be classed as art in themselves. However, she wasn't paying much attention to what she was drawing; instead she was listening in to the conversation going on in front of her. She knew she shouldn't really eavesdrop but the classroom was really quiet and they were quite loud.

She’d taken an instant dislike to the blue-haired girl who had just identified herself as Frida. Alice had heard about her before but had refrained herself from judging as the rumours going around this place were often really exaggerated. Unfortunately, it appeared now that they’d been true and she was as elitist as they said. Even though Alice had powers, she still didn’t like that girl's attitude; just because they had powers didn’t mean they were better at all.

On the other hand she’d taken a further liking to the white haired guy, he wasn’t being unreasonable and didn’t deserve the threats, yet despite that he’d still remained calm. As to what he was saying, she’d admit initially the way he’d put it made her laugh, but now he’d got her thinking maybe he had a point. “A strange one.” She muttered in response to his question before she could stop herself. “I don’t know, maybe the school is real but is what they’ve told us about the world outside? We only have their word to go on, they’ve removed all our memories after all. Perhaps they’re hiding something from us.” She spoke quietly and giggled slightly after. She didn’t know how much of what she said about them lying to her she actually believed but it was food for thought. Her penicil moved faster after speaking, feeling people look at her and wondering if she should have spoken.

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Nix was listening into the conversation that was going on between the students closer to him. He didn't know whether to sigh, roll his eyes, or smile in understanding. ​

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"I don't know, maybe the school is real but is what they've told us about the world outside? We only have their word to go on, they've removed all our memories after all. Perhaps they're hiding something from us."​

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"You know," he began, lowly enough for only those three students to hear, "I hope you're all well aware that there are ears everywhere. If you're going to talk about something that's nearly strictly forbidden, I would highly recommend doing it somewhere less . . . public." Because he knew the other students were listening, and he didn't feel comfortable with that. Although he had nothing to do with the conversation, he wouldn't want to see these three go to Mr. Blood's office and not come back for a while.​

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He looked at the girl named Frida, "Not everyone has a strong perception of actual reality, so to be honest, maybe you're not real." he said calmly, "Also, I believe having special powers doesn't give you leeway to be unkind to the people who have amazing natural abilities."​

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