Concord Krause

They brought in a new batch of kids yesterday. I haven't seen any of them yet, but I know a few of them moved into my hall, so there must be some new girls who are my age. Whoever is new will inevitably bring more strangeness into our hall.

I dressed in my uniform and went down to breakfast. We only have to wear our uniforms from breakfast to dinner, and it's pretty open ended- we can wear almost anything we want provided "it doesn't distract from or disrupt the learning environment", which is a complete joke, as nearly every kid here does something "to distract from or disrupt the learning environment". I know I have, a few times, but that was completely unintentional. Mostly unintentional. Of course, if we're doing any sort of physical activity, we change for that, and going out into space requires a spacesuit.

Breakfast is always awful here, and nobody knows why. Lunch and dinner are excellent, but the food they serve for breakfast is absolutely horrible. As I entered the dining hall, I passed several forged meal cards to those people who had paid for them, and then sat down and ate my breakfast with the usual group of people I eat breakfast with. I don't know them all that well, but we sit together during meals, share a few classes, and occasionally talk.

There's an open seat next to Niele, so I sit next to her.  She's short, pretty, smart, and failing most of her classes. I suspect she's trying to get sent home, but I don't know why and I haven't asked. Charlie is sitting across from us, poking at her eggs with her fork. At least I think they're eggs. Charlie is a year younger than I am, is also short, and is really nice. She doesn't speak too much, but I like her. Except she sometimes says things that are... unnerving.  Kioni sits next to Charlie, and I think she actually likes being here, unlike Niele and Charlie. She likes experiments, but she has yet to set the oxygen tanks on fire and blow us all up. She's nice, but a bit loud, and her room is in the same hall as mine. There are others that usually join us, but it's a bit earlier than we normally eat. I have a project in my room that I want to get back to.

Gemma comes over and sits down on my other side. "I swear," she said, "if Kenner holds one more early morning "optional" study session then I am going to pay that skinny hacker kid in your grade to hack in his bank account and steal all his money. What's his name again, Concord, that one who's in your English class?"

"Alex," I tell her. "Alex Grey-something. Greydale? Greyvalley?"

"Him," Gemma says. "And then Mr. Kenner will have financial problems and leave this school and not hold optional early morning study sessions." She pushes her pink streaked hair out of her eyes and stares distastefully at this morning's breakfast. "Ignore me. This chemistry unit is hard."

"Do you need help studying?" Niele asks.

"I think I'll be good," Gemma says, "but thanks for the offer."

"Have any of you seen Celeste?" I ask.

"I saw her this morning," Gemma says. "She said she was going down to the gyms. What's up?"

"I have a question regarding the nature of foils," I say carefully, because I wouldn't put it past the school to put audio recording devices in the dining hall.

"Some of the new kids are here," Charlie says quietly, not even glancing behind her to where the main door is, "none of them have any idea where to sit, and there's no older kids there. There are what- fifteen, sixteen of them?"

Kioni turns around to look. "I spy, with my little eyes... eleven newbies."

Charlie looked thoughtful. "I could have sworn..." she said quietly. "I guess not."

"Well," I said, "I'm done with my food. I will see you guys later."

"See you, Concord-chan," Kioni says, picking up a piece of a potato with her spoon. Gemma and Niele nod.

I dump my tray in the trash can, then head back around to my room. After I work on my project, it's off to class.

I don't count any of these people here as true friends, and I hope I don't ever have to.

*

I'm going to go draw the Space Shuttle, okay? Satellite zoom zoom.

~Nadia Zoif~

"And here we have Space Shuttle Education's cafeteria," our guide, a thin, brunette woman named Mrs. Forcchi, had explained. "Just smell the delicious food they're serving up this morning!"

I took a deep breath and nearly threw up on what smelled like an old tire. This is what I'm going to be eating for the next few years every morning. Great.

Behind me, a girl muttered something in a heavily accented voice. I couldn't quite make out what she said, but I did hear the words "disgusting" and "garbage", so it was probably about the food.

Mrs. Forcchi was an optimist, I'll give her that. But so far, everyone I've seen looks like they'd rather be somewhere else. I'm one of those people--there aren't sunflowers or warm breezes or grassy plains on the shuttle. Just lots of metal.

I'm still trying to decide, though, if I'd rather be isolated up here or surrounded by the people who hate me. The people who forced Dad to send me away.

Today, the cafeteria doesn't smell any better. Most kids have a plate of mysterious white blobs. My best guess is eggs, and I really don't want to know if I'm right. At the edge of the cafeteria, a dark-skinned girl points at us, counting. Then she turns back around and whispers something to her group. I hear the word "newbies."

I walk around, trying to find a seat, getting strange glances from everyone. At least I'm not alone--everyone who had to sit through Mrs. Forcchi's tour yesterday is treated with the same suspicion. I accidentally bump into a shady-looking boy, who hisses "newbie" with such feeling that a glob of spit goes flying from his mouth onto my uniform.

Forget what I said earlier about choosing between isolation here or my enemies at home. I think all I'll end up making here are enemies, too.

The scan is terrible and I created it after the whole "breakfast" thing, so I'll zoom into that before we get to my terrible little panels.

So. Noah. I get to write you. This'll be awkward.

Noah~

Newbies this morning. I barely noticed. I was too busy, sketching, plotting, thinking of this. I have my own lunch table, per usual. I see someone I don't recognize, that's nothing new, I try not to know anyone, but I assume they're a newbie. I give them a smile that wards most people off, but not this guy.

"Hi. I'm Andrew," he tried. He seemed nervous.

"Noah Greenplyer." I smile. "Go away."

"That's warm," he mumbles to himself, but he doesn't leave my table. I reason the best thing to do is leave myself.

Everyone is in their uniforms. I know I'll get called out again for not wearing mine, but I don't care. I drop my tray into the bucket. It was clean in the first place, I don't eat breakfast. I walk out into the hallway where many students are already bustling by. A notice comes on the loudspeakers.

I open the door to the principal's office and scowl. It's pink. The whole pink and blue "friendly" environment ticks me off. I pull my hands behind my back and enter the pricnipal's room with a sense of false vigor.

"I see you're not wearing your uniform," he glowers at me, the first thing he says.

"Yes, yes." I glance up at the ceiling. "I haven't got all day."

"Ha. Like you're one to talk."

"Well I haven't necessarily done anything drastic recently."

"It means you're plotting." 

I bite my lip for just a moment. Theci knows that I was the one behind my school's crime. I don't know why, but he knows. I don't know how. And people say I scare them. The principal was easily the scariest guy I knew.

"What if I am?" I ask, and I stare at him for a second, hold his gaze with a look of defiance.

"Nothing can get you out of here. Nothing can get any con out of here, least of all you."

"Take that back! I'm no criminal!" This is one of the few times I raise my voice. When I really, really need to and when I'm with the principal.

"Noah Greenplyer," he says, and I'm sure there's nothing in the world he could say that would make me suprised.

I was wrong.

"Noah Greenplyer, I want you to make friends." 

What kind of classes should the Space Shuttle Education have? Also, Theo, I enjoy your comic. You're actually a good artist, not just one that everyone says is good but actually is quite bad.

Class will start in half an hour but first I should probably eat breakfast. Momo-chan teases me, "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Andrew. Eat it up and make your mother proud." As the only girl among us, she occasioanlly acts like a mother figure, but only when she really feels like it. If she's in a bad mood, she'll punch you just for suggesting it. The breakfast food here doesn't look like food at all. I don't really want to eat it. Ao begins to hum "Toki no Kaiiro", "Corridor of Time", a song from a video game I reallly like. The song is from my favorite place, the kingdom of Jiiru. It's a place of magic, where dreams can come true. I dreamt about Jiiru a long time before I played the game, but no one believes me when I say that. It has its problems, but I like it there. There's lots of books and things to think about. And dreams. All the things I like. There's magical people too. Magic is good and it isn't shunned. I wish this space shuttle was Jiiru.

"Hey, look over there. There's a kid in a top hat over there. Let's go sit by him," Ao says.

"He's alone, so you won't make a complete fool of youself when you fail," Kaze points out. Aoi's in control, so Kaze can't really do much. They're both equal in strength, but it's very different kinds of strength. I don't really want to go sit by him (I have a book I'd like to read. Kin's in control as well, but he's controlling my mind while Ao just has my body.) but Ao-kun steers me towards him. 

"Hello," I say, sounding shyer then Ao feels. Aoi's never shy. "I'm Andrew." 

"And a whole lot of other people besides," Kin says dryly which nearly makes me laugh. 

"I can't introduce myslef like that," I tell him.

The boy in the green hat says, "Noah Greenplyer." He smiles. "Go away."

"Congratulations, Kaze! We've discovered your human counterpart! He's just like you!" Momo-chan laughs. He does remind me of Kaze, but Kaze hurts more. 

"That's warm," I say, without really thinking. I sit down anyway. I've put up with much worse. Kin takes over while Ao goes off to sulk. 

"That guy's a jerk! Wow! Would it kill him to be nice?" Ao-kun yells.

"Actually, I hate to break this to you, but some people have more things to do then sit around and pretned to be civil. I'm sure you lesser intelligent being would never understand," Kaze replies calmly.

"While you two duke it out for the title of World's Loudest Yeller, I'm going to go to sleep. Ao-kun, don't do anything stupid. Kaze, don't kill Andrew or anyone else for that matter and if one of the Extremes wakes up, wake me up too," Momo-chan yawns.

"You were plenty awake earlier when you were singing. Were you competeing for World's Loudest Yeller early?" Kin says tartly.

"Aoi, not do anything stupid? He was created to be stupid," Kaze reminds Momo.

"How would you know? You weren't born yet, idiot! i'm older than you!" Aoi yells. 

"I was still connected to Andrew but I saw everything stupid thing you made him do and that's why he got hurt!" Kaze yells back.

"Ever consider that people might need to sleep sometimes? Oh, I forgot, you're just a robot! You certainly act like one!" Momo yells at Kin. 

"Shut up, all of you!" I moan, cluching my head. When they're all in my head and having enormous arguments, it hurts, literally.

Some people turn to look at me. Oops. Most of the time, I can talk to the others without anyone hearing. Occasionally, I'll end up saying it out loud and people always look at me funny for that. I learned a long time ago not to talk to myself outloud. It's okay when you're really little but... I remember in fifth grade, how I used to hide after school fromt he fourth grade girls running around. "Hey, magic boy! Mr. I Have Magic! I have magic too! Come out, wherever you are, cause I have magic!" I remember their laughter. 

I stand up. I can't eat this disguting thing called food. I dump my tray in the proper spot and leave the cafeteria. 

I think the classes should be like normal classes, except they offer a lot more advanced classes than most schools.  

I'm gonna turn on the Green Day Pandora station, because I think that's what Gemma would listen to. 

Gemma~

I run down the hall back down to my room.  One of the newbies tries to ask me a question, so I blatantly ignore him.  No time now.  I have a job I have to do.  When I get there, the kid is already waiting for me.  "You wanna get into the gravity room?" I ask.

The kid nods.  I take the remote out of my pocket and point it at the door.  I accidentally lost my key card last week, so that's the only way I can get into my room anymore.  Carelessly, I drop it on the floor.  I race to the hollow book I keep my keys in.  I forgot the combination to it a long time ago.  Honestly, if I wasn't good at picking locks and cracking safes, my forgetfulness would make my life hard.  The key I made to the gravity room is in the book-safe.

"Before I go and do this, I want my payment," I say after I've picked up the remote and gone back outside.  

"If you get caught, I was in my room."

"Yeah, I know.  Just hand it over."  The kid handed me an iPod classic that was as good as new.  I took a second to gaze at it in awe before pocketing it.  The school gave is laptops, but I had never had an iPod of my own.  My family couldn't afford it and I never stole for myself.  I only stole money that became an 'anonymous contribution' to my parent's finances.  The one time I tried to give them money directly, they sent me to this place.  The only reason I keep my grades up is because of Gramma Frieda.  

Sneakily, I make my way to the gravity room.  Luckily, there's a bathroom next to it, so I have an excuse if I'm caught in this hallway.  I just can't get caught in the room itself.  When I'm sure no one's coming, I open the door and slip in.  

Once I'm in, all I have to do is flip the switches labeled "classrooms", "dorm rooms", and "common areas/ dining halls".  Hopefully, my room isn't upset too much in this escapade.  I flip the switch and run out, down the hall and into my room.  Now, time to study for chem as I float around.

OOC: 

I didn't give the client a gender on purpose just in case one of you wanted to be the client.

Here's an awful pencil sketch of Gemma.  The dark thing in her hair is the pink streak.  I totally just wrote a random band name on her tee shirt.

Sorry, the art isn't showing.

Admin

~Italia

After the government discovered that I could speak every language in the world, they forced me to work as a negotiator with other countries. Although they do pay me enough to feed my family, the work is annoying, especially since I'm only thirteen years old. I want to have time to play with my old friend Maria and to work on my sketches. My parents also thought that I was overworked and needed to have more time off, so they went to the government to ask permission for me to get time off. That plan did more harm than help because the government only added to my work load. I couldn't take it any longer, so my parents came up with Plan B: Space Shuttle Education.

***************************

At midnight, when no people were wandering around the streets, my parents and I silently made our way to the SSE take-off center. I was wearing a dark brown shirt that brushed against my ankles and a blue and white striped shirt. My hair was braided in one long line along my back and a fresh yellow flower was pinned by my ear. Mama smiled sadly at me as we neared the glass doors, "Sii buono, fiore. Mi mancherai". (Translation: Be good, flower. I will miss you.) "Ti amo," I whispered back while hugging both my parents. (Translation: I love you.)

***************************

I arrived on the SSE later for orientation. "This is the cafeteria", a perky woman said, "The food is delicious!" My nose said otherwise. The lady showed us all around the shuttle while I imagined who I would meet here. Maybe I would make some new friends from other countries, or maybe I'd find someone from Italy. Our tour ended at the dorms, where we were each assigned a dorm and a mate. My dorm mate was a girl named Charlie who smiled at me as the names were called.

_________________________________________________________________________________ 

@BHR

If you don't want Italia and Charlie to be dorm mates, that's fine. I just needed to use someone. 

The italics means English translated from Italian.

Celeste--

"Miss Porte, please, the cloak and the-" our teacher points at the mask.  I start speaking to him in rapid fire Italian.

"And you're a goat and you can't paint for your life and do you really expect me to believe the octopi and no, I am perfectly fine without shoes." Not that he understands anything, of course, that's part of the fun, just spieling lies in a language he has no idea how to pronounce.  That's one of my techniques for survival.  Two years haven't really aided my sanity any, and what my parents expect to do with me when I get off this spaceship is beyond me.  I can't go to the Olympics, because who seriously watches those, and you can't read books for a living.

"I don't speak Italian," the teacher says.  One girl who came today is tittering in the corner.  Her name tag says Italia.

"And neither does the eggplant, genius," I reply.  More tittering from the girl.  The rest of the students' minds have wandered off, all perfectly displaying their various quirks.  The only one closest in age to me is Gemma, who looks like she's minutely improving her hair pin with a fingernail.  She'll probably end up stealing into my room and (pardon the expression) stealing something of mine.  I don't care, really.  Worse things have happened.

Ugh, my go-to image posting site doesn't seem to work on here!

Does this work?

If it does, this is Gemma.  Dark thing in hair is pink streak.  Really bad sketch.

Sorry, Melody, still no art showing.

Admin

~Nadia Zoif~

I get bored sitting all by myself in the crowded cafeteria, so I turn to one of my favorite pasttimes--people watching. The dark-skinned girl who counted the newbies sits with a few other kids--some boys, some girls--and I think one of them might be my roommate. I'm not sure. A couple tables over, I notice a boy wearing a green top hat conversing with another kid. He has long, black hair and slumps; I think he was part of the newbie crowd on our tour yesterday.

Suddenly, another girl sits down next to me. She wears a flowered skirt over her SSE uniform that flows as much as her brown hair--oh! I recognize her! She was the one complaining that the food was garbage on the tour.

"Um, hey," I say, trying to make small talk. Conversation is a welcome distraction. "Thanks for making that comment about the food yesterday. Trust me, it's really that bad."

"I'm not taking any chances," she replies, in that same heavily accented voice, then laughs. After squinting at me for a couple seconds, she launches into a torrent of words. "Nadia Zoif, right? You stood in front of me on the tour--brown cap--nice cap, by the way. You kept tapping your left foot throughout the whole tour. I peeked at your roommate sheet and you're a room away from me."

I stare at her.

"Sorry," she says, blushing. "Photographic memory. Annoying, right?"

"No," I reply. "Extremely cool!" I would tell her about how that would help me remember every detail of my explorations, then decide she doesn't need to know about how the late Mr. Peterson's pinky bone ended up in my dresser. Or the peculiar Latin text in the abandoned shack. 

Or the night at the barn.

The girl grips my hand in a warm shake. "I'm Italia Berilli," she says cheerfully. "And I'm from Italy. So to remember my name, just think--Italia from Italy! Italia from Italy!"

"OK, Italia-from-Italy," I respond with a smile, a little overwhelmed by her exuberant personality. I stab at my eggs--despite being jiggly, they're rock hard when I touch them. "Bacon would really ameliorate this situation."

It's Italia's turn to squint. "Hmm?"

I sigh, sometimes forgetting that the general public doesn't know some of the more complex words that manage to escape my mouth. "Ameliorate. To make something bad better."

"Oh, right! I knew that, I knew that." Italia pretends to slap her head. "Just early morning fog."

We talk for the next few minutes until the dark-haired kid screams "Shut up, all of you!" so loudly that it reverberates throughout the cafeteria.

Italia and I exchange uncomfortable glances. No doubt some of the kids at SSE are volatile enough to start a fight; we ought to be leaving before one of us takes a visit to the clinic.

"Who's your roommate, then?" Italia asks. "I didn't catch her name when I saw your sheet. Maybe she's a...whatever they call us. Newbie."

"No, it's a girl named Niele Talong," I answer. I didn't see her at all last night or this morning. Maybe she was in the office. Or pulling a prank. Or whatever kids here do.

"I'll see you some other time. At least we're on the same hall!" she replies, then calls "Ciao!" as she walks towards the door.

I walk to my first class with a surge of hope, happy to have escaped a potential brawl--though based on the lack of gossip from the surrounding kids, it was probably just something else. The hope is crushed when I find the newbie-counter from breakfast (who turns out to be named Kioni) and the boy who accidentally spit on me in my first class, Advanced Chemistry. The teacher is an aging bald man who looks like he would find great pleasure in tossing something flaming at us.
Then, a few minutes after class starts, the boy in the green top hat stomps into the room and hands some sort of Principal's Office pass to the teacher. He takes a seat behind me to whispers of "Again?" and snickers.

I rub my lucky newsboy cap. Splendid.

--------

Elizabeth, it's OK if you don't want Niele and Nadia to share a room.