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 Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 11:40 pm
The Student Council Elections had yet to take place, but already Sparrow had begun his campaign. At first he had started small; the booth at the festival had given him a good idea of what sort of thing to prepare for, as well as a general idea of what he could bring to the school, were he elected. There were things to do, people to say, places to go; and since the elections were looming ever nearer, now was the prime time to act as the best example that he could.
Which meant putting on appearances most of the time, but it was not as if Sparrow did not enjoy doing what he was doing. He passed by the students of the school with a smile on his face, greeting everyone with a nod and a wave, small conversation if he had a spare moment. And so far, everything seemed to have gone rather well.
And Sparrow could not really tell his folks that he had lost the Vice Presidential election (they would understand, but Sparrow himself may or may not be ashamed, should he lose), which meant that he had do everything in his power to convince the students of Amityville High that he was, in fact, the perfect candidate for the job.
Which was why, early on a Moonday afternoon, Sparrow was idly making his way down one hall of the school, gloved hands slipped into the pockets of his trousers. There were a few students milling about here and there, but not many; class had started, and although a few latecomers were booking it here and there to try and get to where they needed, this particular hall was mostly deserted. It left Sparrow alone with his thoughts, his eyes moving from door to door of the classrooms, memorizing not only what he could of the school, but the names of the teachers written neatly on each classroom. This way, at the very least, he could say he was knowledgeable about the school's layout, should he act as tour guide for new students (which he had already done once or twice).
As he turned a corner into an empty hallway, an odd sort of scent caught his attention. Frowning a little, Sparrow's steps faltered, slowing down as he sniffed at the air, trying to discern from which direction it had come. It took him a few moments, but it had come from the third door on the left, which Sparrow made a beeline towards, hesitating only a moment before he reached out and pushed the door open, poking his head inside and peering around cautiously.
There was a boil in the otherwise empty classroom - a boil with - wait, wasn't that -
"...Nukpana, isn't it?" said Sparrow, with some surprise, vaguely recalling the boil from before and hoping he had gotten the name right. "What are you doing in here?"
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Posted: Sun Jan 13, 2013 6:56 pm
Moonday morning. Of all the days of the week, it was very likely that it was the least looked-forward-to day, except to those really obnoxious nerdy kids who 'JUST LOVED SCHOOL SOOOO MUCH!!!!!!11!!one!' Dreaded by most, the hallways and dorms were a symphony of groans and dragging feet, the picture of despair. But not Nuk. In was Moonday, which meant Nuk was not in class. Nor was on his way to class, although technically he was still in a classroom (which counted, in his mind.) Not because he had study hall, or was assisting a professor, but because he was, once again, skipping. In fact, he seemed to be skipping more classes than not these days, his attendance record even worse than last year, which said something because he had skipped so much last year that the professors were surprised when he showed up. In his defense though, the classes were getting super hard, and they started really early in the morning, and the professors wanted him to turn in homework...
Normally, Nuk spent most of the time school was in session in one of two places: either on the roof, or underneath the third stairwell by the bathroom the ghosts haunted. On that particular Moonday, however, the school was under a bit of renovation; the roof had been declared 'unsafe,' and the holes in the staircases were being boarded up, forcing the skinwalker to relocate. Slinking through the hallways, head down, hands shoved in the pockets of his old, faded jeans, he'd wandered the halls aimlessly, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Now, a few hours later, Nuk had no idea what classroom he was in. He had sorta just chosen the most inconspicuous, dustiest, most deserted one he could find, propped up one of the many haphazardly-displaced chairs, flopped down in it and lit up. Because no one but another delinquent would be in this part of the school.
And then Sparrow showed up.
There were many students in the school who could have easily been considered Nuk's opposite, for any number of reasons. Mot, for example, was the Cowboy to Nuk's Indian (although not to brag, but he looked damn good in a cowboy hat.) Riley was the ambitious to Nuk's lazy. Xiu was the nice to Nuk's mean (hey, he WAS mean. Don't hate.) Amrita was the cute to his... well, not. It wasn't hard to be the skinwalker's polar opposite -- he was everything a sane individual tried to avoid. If you looked him up in the yearbook, he was listed under 'Most likely to be used as an example to Snots of how NOT to act.' But if there was ever an example of his true opposite, someone who best represented the opposite end of the spectrum, it would probably have been someone like Sparrow. Ambitious, congenial, with a strong moral compass... not to mention impeccably dressed. He was probably pretty smart too; there was no way the boil didn't at least make Ahh!s and Bees, although he wouldn't have been surprised the reaper had turned out to be one of the smartest kids at Amityville. Definitely a goodie-two-shoe type. He probably listened to classical music and played something elegant like the violin or the flute.
Nuk had seen him before. Who hadn't? Sparrow had been campaigning for one of the Student Council positions, which included everything from banners to booths to awkward speeches to weird little plushies of themselves. (The creepy ones even talked. Those were the first to get swirly-ed.) It would have been more impressive if the skinwalker hadn't known who he was. Still, the skinwalker looked completely and utterly unperturbed as probably the worst person to find him actually managed to do so, looking up with a look of mild interest as the door squeaked open, cigarette hanging precariously between his lips.
"Hey bro," he replied amiably, lifting a hand lazily and leaning back further in the chair, "Want one?"Kurotomato WOW SORRY THAT TOOK SO LONG ;;; Next post won't, promise orz
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Thu Jan 31, 2013 7:50 am
Polar opposites was probably the best term that could describe Sparrow Heartreed and the skinwalker Nukpana, Sparrow decided, as he stood in the room with one hand still on the door, a look of consternation on his face. He did not entirely know the other boil all that well (they'd only met once previously, that he could recall), but he did not have to know Nuk well to know that he simply was not the type of person with whom Sparrow would normally associate.
Not that that was necessarily a bad thing. It was not as if Sparrow disliked very many people (Roch immediately came to mind, though they had sort of worked through their issues. Sort of.), and he did his best to keep himself above such things as discriminating against any of the students because they were slightly different than he was. And besides the hunters and the horsemen, Sparrow did not really have any enemies.
Hopefully it stayed that way.
Sparrow idly tugged at the cuff of his sleeve, straightening out the fabric and smoothing down the material over his gloves, as though he needed something to do with his hands.
"So you...came in here to smoke?" he asked, resisting the very strong urge to wrinkle his nose. Smoking was not exactly on his list of Things I Like to Do. Plus insulting Nuk was rather rude. "That's not really good for you, you know."
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