The Return (Open)

[Onira]

A foot found itself into the open corridors of Arcane Academy. Everyone seemed to be in class already, which was okay, because the returning student only had three classes that day. The first starting in about half an hour. The reason he had so few, was because his return was after quite a bit of trauma. The Academy decided to take it easy on him because of this, but Onira didn't agree. He didn't know anything about the school because he had lost so many of his memories, but even so, he was quite excited to get started. He had a feeling he'd enjoy his stay.

The young man continued through the halls, eyes wide with joy. The place seemed to grow a light from a couple of the windows every couple of minutes. Onira figured they were spells of some sort, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe the teachers just liked disco. Then again, one could only hope.

The clack of Onira's shoes moved steadily through the hallways. He didn't wear what he had been known to. No, now he wore a simple long-sleeved, black cotton shirt. A pair of blue jeans, and of course, black dress-shoes. He liked the attire. It was comfortable. Not saying he didn't try the white cloak he had found earlier, but it felt too formal. Didn;t really felt like he needed it.

"So... this is Arcane Academy huh?"

Onira's eyes were somewhat more relaxed now, and his body not quite as tense. Already he was getting used to the environment. Sort of like riding a bike. Even when your memories wiped clean, you don't forget. But, Onira couldn't really use that analagy, for he never remembered riding a bike. Just another thing to add to the forgotten list.

"Hey... that's..."

Onira looked at a newspaper pinned up to the student board. It stunned him to look at it. Seemed to give him a kick to the gut. The reason? Well, on the page, was a picture of Onira, and just above it was the headtitle.

Suicide Hits Arcane Academy

"Strange."

Onira let it blow off and continued down the hall, deciding to just keep that out of his day's summary. Too depressing.

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

Torm strolls down one of the Academy's many corridors. It was a free-period for him, and he was using the spare time to test a new type of beetle he had built a bunch of the night before. About two dozen of the little critters are zooming frantically around him like electrons around an atom, and their glossy, yellow topside shells glisten in the sunlight coming through the arched windows lining one wall of the passage.

Looking up ahead, he sees a young man walking along. Onira! Torm strides over to him, saying, "Hey, Onira, how goes the...bug...project..." Torm trails off, seeing the newspaper clipping on the nearby board, announcing a suicide. Onira's suicide. Torm does a double-take, clearly confused. That's...odd. I guess he was always a bit weird. Yes, thinking back, I guess this seems the sort of stunt I would have thought he would pull. Man, I need to read the paper more often or get out or something...I had no idea... He shifts his ladder to his other arm to fill the awkward-ish pause, and a few of the beetles clang off it as the unexpected obstacle enters their flight path. "How...how are you feeling these days, Onira?" he says in a friendly manner. Might as well tread carefully and be tactful 'til I know whats going on in that noggin of his.

[Onira]

Onira puffed his cheeks and gave the newcomer a confused look. He couldn't really remember his face, but his attire seemed somewhat... reminiscent. Seemed like something he had seen before. But of course, it wasn't easy to forget. How many people carry around with them a ladder? And how many people have beetles flying around them? Yeah, the new stranger seemed like quite the person. Almost scary.

"Bugs?"

Onira knew his memory was lost, and had a pretty good idea that this 'bug project' was something he was working on before he jumped. But even so, he had to ask himself what he'd be doing with bugs. Was he disecting them? Was he recording their behavior? He didn't know what he was supposed to be doing with them.

"Excuse me sir but... do I know you?"

Something was itching at the back of Onira's neck. Something telling him that he did know him. That he did know the odd-looking stranger. But he couldn't put his finger on it. It was really quite the annoyance.

OOC: Shorter...

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

He...doesn't remember me at all? Torm scratches the back of his head, still confused. I guess I won't be getting that stuff I lent him back, unless he finds it in his room or something. Torm looks the guy over again. Surely this was the same Onira! There was something about him that was a little different, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Well, if he doesn't remember me, I guess we might as well start fresh.

"Sorry, Onira. I guess I just had you confused with...someone else, perhaps... Yeah, someone else." The obvious flaw in that, was, of course, that Torm had already called Onira by name, but he opted not to try to make up an excuse for that unless Onira asked about it.

"Maybe we met in a crowd or something. Or while drunk; that sort of thing happens to me from time to time. The name is Tormaigh, or just Torm." he extends a gauntleted hand. Still a little confused inside, but now smiling broadly again, he continues, "...Welcome to the Academy!"

[Onira]

Onira gave a knowing yet oddly chilling smile. Like one of the mysteriously powerful evil kids you tend to see in cartoons and anime, who are like at the top but don't look like they should be. It was the smile they use and then the second in command like gets all nervous and fearful. However, with Onira, there wasn't really much to be fearful about. His creepy factor had just been going up since he had returned.

"You don't have to pretend. I know where I met you. Well, sort of. I probably knew you before I jumped. I think I lost my memory that day. I dunno though. I guess that's a little bit of irony though isn't it. I don't know if I lost my memory. Logically I don't think I should. But then again, logic can't really be spoken of here can it? Magic isn't logical. Me being alive isn't logical. Hell, me even being able to walk isn't logical. But, I guess sometimes defying logic works out for the best huh?"

Onira puffed his cheeks out for a moment. He did that whenever he was thinking, but also whenever he had nothing to say. A sort of habit of his. Or, so he figured. He wasn't too sure what he knew about himself anymore.

"Oops, I guess I rambled a bit, huh? Well, it happens. Atleast, I think it happens. I wonder..."

He puffed his cheeks again.