Arrival

[Morkutsu]

"Welcome to Arcane Academy."

A voice sounded as the doors into the main corridor of the academy slid open to reveal it's newest student. With the light shining behind him, leaving him to only be a darkened form, he gave off a nightmarish feel. He had his right hand up, holding a bag that hung low over his shoulder. The bag was old, tattered and ripped so much that his stuff was almost falling out. The darkened form paused for a moment at the door, not allowing the sensors to close the doors behind him yet. He took a deep breath, and allowed his eyes to scan the area. Of course with his right eye, this scanning term was more literal then expected. Soon he stepped through into the academy, allowing the doors to slowly shut tight behind him. He had a disgusted look on his face. He was bothered by the fact this place had such a friendly feel. He was only here to learn more about the Nosferatu, not to worry about table manners and becoming a member of the community. He watched as many eyes shot to his chest. With his trench coat open, and his bare chest shown, the octagon shaped-steel plate was shown sewn into his skin. As they stared he allowed his un-hidden eye to shoot toward them, which made them turn away quickly. He didn't appreciate their eyes on his body, especially when he knew the extend of the power of magical eyes. He walked forward to the counter, surprised to see it was run by a magical machine. As soon as he stepped up, a card slowly rolled out through a slit it the front, and he grabbed it, pulling enough to snap it out of the machine. All their held was a number. He looked left, and right, and found there was no doors, and no numbers in sight. Well, until his other eye did the searching. A few floors up were the dorm rooms, numbered doors. He saw his, and wasn't happy to see stuff already in it. That meant he had to share his room with some other, simpleton of this academy.

"Sickening, and the stairs to the floor are on the other side of the academy."

He walked past the machine into a hallway, heading down toward the stairs. It was strange, this academy was for magic that was practiced in old times, yet it was a floating modernized building. He felt himself coming toward a bigger room. His eye soon after told him he was right, and that the room was the cafeteria of the academy. He pushed open the door, and allowed his feet to take him farther in, sitting down in the chair. H let his right foot to hit the top of the table, fully extended. He slouched back with his right foot on the table, and he brought up his left foot to press against the edge of it. This allowed his knee to come up beside his head, so he had a resting place for it. He could only hope that he wasn't approached. Of course, in this school, he knew he was wrong. Someone sat in front of him almost immediately.

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

The cafeteria was crowded. Students everywhere, talking , sharing minor spells, etc. Torm was hungry, and had just moments before piled his tray high with all manner of foods, but with a marked predilection toward meats. Looking about, he sees a few friends waving from here or there about the place. Waving back, Torm grins but makes no moves to sit with them. He's in no mood to talk; too much work to be done, and talking delays eating. 'Eat every meal like it will be your last one for a long while,' my Uncle Bob used to say. Of course, he was overweight, had acute diabetes, and died of congested heart failure... Torm spots a table that's empty except for one student who appears to be sleeping and sits down, quietly, of course, so as to avoid waking the fellow. As he begins to eat, Torm eyes the man in his peripheral vision. At least he's got some style...Maybe I should try a collar like that on my next coat...And that metal plate...creepy, but we've all got our idiosyncrasies

[Morkutsu]

Mork heard the man sit down in front of him, his red eye shot open. Since any view of it was shielded by the mirror,it still would appear both of his eyes were closed. He allowed himself to stare at the boy through his glasses, watching his reactions to different parts of his body. He saw the boy's eyes staring at him, and to the truth, wasn't so happy about it. His body stayed still but his mind left him. Decision, should he say anything. Obviously this boy had sat with the quiet man for a reason. Whether it was to break him to make him a happy-go-lucky little snot, or to have peace, was not known. Of course, Morkutsu was not about to share his utmost respect for this man, who stared at him so. He decided he would say something from his position. He leaned his head back, allowing the light to directly reflect off his mirror lens. While one of them was able to see his good eye, the other was white with light, shrouding his burnt eye from any other eyes. He allowed a dark small smile to cross his face. His lips parted slightly, just so the whites of his top teeth could be barely seen, and then the two corners of his lips curled up. A small chuckle came from his mouth, his chest pumping in and out slightly with it. Soon he leaned back forward, his face facing the man, and his good eye shot open.

"I would appreciate if you stopped staring at me. Pesky children should not bother their superiors."

The voice was dark, and in the deepest tone. Soon Morkutsu leaned back, and allowed his eyes to both shut again. Luckily for him there was one thing he couldn't see through, and that was his own eyelid. He let his lips go back into a serious look, and waited for some sort of response from the boy. This was his first test, judging by this, respect could be given, or taken even more-so away.

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

(OOC: Welcome back, by the way. I was wondering if you'd return)

"I would appreciate if you stopped staring at me. Pesky children should not bother their superiors."

Torm is taken slightly by surprise by the man's remark. Despite his grizzled exterior, he could not be more that twenty, maybe eighteen, whereas Torm would be twenty-six on his next Naming Day, but still, he had referred to Torm as 'child.' Torm unconsciously strokes his beard. Judging from the fellow's slightly crazed demeanor and that metal plate and everything else, I'd say he's probably been through a lot more hell than I have thus far; maybe enough that I really am the child here. Torm thinks, shrugging it off internally. Perspectives are a bitch, but everyone's got their own.

Torm looks over his shoulder nonchalantly and stares around at the other people eating, chatting, and laughing in the cafeteria. "Hehe..." he chuckles, and turns back to face the reclining man, and a conspiratorial grin spreads on his face.
"Yeah. Maybe we should just make them all go about their business elsewhere, eh?" he replies.

He takes another mouthful of food from his heaping tray and chews it thoughtfully. After a moment, he continues,
"You'll understand if I don't apologize for the staring; Wanted to get a measure of you, is all. You're new, of course." Torm gestures vaguely. "New here, I mean. Do you have a name you go by?"

[Morkutsu]

The eyes of the dark man opened wide once again, his god eye stared directly at the man, but his other moving independently, scanning the room. Making sure there wasn't anyone or anything listening to his conversation. He allowed himself o take a relieved breathe when he saw nothing, and then once again allowed himself to scorn the child. His lips peeled open, and soon his point was made.

"Your pestilence is not welcome in my presence. The title I was given has absolutely nothing to do with me, and is therefore unimportant for your sudden interest in me. New or not, I am not exactly here for the same reasons as others. I have no intention of making friends, or being social. If you wish to pester someone, do it else wear. I have no intention of getting to know you, nor do I wish to spend any further time talking to you. If you do not stop bothering me, I am afraid your very life well be at sta-"

Morkutsu stopped himself from talking any more. His eye shot to look behind him, and entering the cafeteria was one of the teachers. Mork leaned back yet again, keeping one good eye on the boy, and a cursed eye on the teacher. He glared at the boy, his dark expression showing his intent for the boy to leave before he cracked his neck. He was in no need to be pestered by a child, however, something suddenly occurred. He knew exactly what had to be done to rid himself of this pest. He leaned forward yet again, whispering so only this boy could here him.

"This is just an act, meet me in the training grounds in an hour and we can talk in private."

With that Morkutsu removed himself from his chair, and stood up, walking hurriedly toward the hallway that lead to the dorms. he would drop off his stuff, and go there a little late just to make sure the kid was there before he went in.

ooc: You make the thread please.

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

(OOC: I'll make it, sure, but first, I'll close this up a little better...)

Torm stands and strides after the man, his tray forgotten for the moment. An act, my ass. Torm was definitely getting a weird vibe from this guy. Who the hell marches into a crowded cafeteria, tries to take a nap, and gets pissed and runs off when someone speaks to him? Well, there was one reason, but Torm wasn't about to snap at that bait. Still, I think I like this guy; he's not just another of those fair-weather mages that this place seems to be full of. However, I won't be tolerating this superiority complex of his...

Torm's long legs carry him past the man and into the exit, blocking his way, and speaks in an even, non-aggressive tone. "Listen here, you. It's clear you don't think much of me, and I'm none too impressed with you, either, so I hope you don't expect me to be at your beck and call, like some slobbering dog." he says in his Irish brogue.

Torm raises a hand and points towards the man, and his face twists into a rakish grin. "We'll have our 'talk' at some point, but I will let you know when I've got the time for it. I have to be in the city today, pretty much right after I finish my meal, and I don't intend to return tonight."

Torm begins to move back to his seat, but turns back, as if a sudden thought strikes him, and his expression is suddenly mock-thoughtful. "You know, if you really want to talk sometime, I train every Thursday morning on the grounds, around 6:30 AM." With a wink and a shrug, Torm saunters back to his seat and goes back to eating. Maybe all he wanted was to get me to leave him be, but then why come in here in the first place? Strange fella...