((This RP is backdated to right before Fallon became Ares. It falls right after the night that Linarite crept into her room to make sure she had a civilian starseed.))


Why did things have to change? Why did the world insist on revolving so damn fast all the time? Fallon had asked herself this many times over her short sixteen years of life. Change came as easily to Fallon as rocket science did to pandas. She could hardly bear switching her schedule to meet someone half an hour later for lunch (assuming they neglected to give her the proper 24 hour+ notice). But moving schools? Going to the hospital? Waking up to find mystery footsteps marring your meticulously vacuumed rug and sleeping through your classes?

Unacceptable.

When Fallon woke up following Linarite’s late night visit, she screamed. She screamed good and long. So good and long, in fact, that not one but two administrators came rushing to her door and used the master key to open it up. They saw only a panic-stricken girl screaming in the middle of her perfectly manicured room. Words would not soothe her, and Fallon began to thrash in her bed, rocking back and forth until the nurse was called to give her a sedative.

The two administrators stood over her bed and watched until Fallon fell asleep again. Her vision blurred, but the voices stood out distinctly from one another in her fuzzy mind. This was what they said:

“This is troubling, very troubling.”

“I never thought she was Crystal Academy material in the first place.”

“Oh, come on. You know what she’s been through. An organ ring. No normal teenager can handle that.”

“We have other students who do just fine. Serenade and Elke -- look at those two. Models of coping with crisis. Why can’t she be more like them?”

“Really now, that is unfair. Not all people are built the same.”

“Yes, some are missing important screws and bolts.”

“Stop it.”

“What about the others? We took in many of those children, and not all of them behave like this.”

“It’s a traumatic experience. Everyone reacts in different ways.”

“I’ve read her file. Did you see her behavior report from Morningstar Elementary? She is a problem child. They were expelling her all over the place before those parents of hers shipped her out of the country.”

“She was a kid then.”

“She’s a kid now.”

“I stand by the decision to keep her here. What better place than Crystal Academy to nurture a young woman who needs it? That is our job.”

“You speak as if we’re some kind of shelter for disadvantaged youth. Take that attitude to Hillworth then.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“The world’s a terrible place though, isn’t it? A place where organ rings exist and where people fall into comas. Might as well face the music.”

“Maybe.”

“This one needs a roommate. Enough of this special privileges nonsense. She gets a roommate like everyone else. It’ll be good to have another set of eyes on her.”

“She isn’t a bad kid. She just needs special attention. She sees her therapist very regularly and--”

“Call him. I want another evaluation on her mental state. I won’t have some girl screaming her head off in my school to get out of classes. I’m tired of people telling me that their nightmares made them do it. Ridiculous.”

“The students have complained about nightmares. A lot of them. Even... I’ve had them.”

“Call her therapist. Maybe you two can have a chat too. I’m off. Make sure you stay with her.”

A door shut briskly. After a few moments, the remaining administrator pulled a chair up to Fallon’s bed and placed a hand over her forehead. “I’m sorry, honey,” she said, voice low. “I know you’re trying. It’s okay. You’re doing a great job.” The words were too muddled for Fallon to make sense of under the heavy daze of the sedative. Her nerves were on high alert, everything buzzing and ticking.

Someone had been in her room. Her parents were getting a divorce. A roommate would be invading her personal space. She had to go through another psychological evaluation.

Changes, all of it. Too many changes for one little girl to handle.