One fine day: A pseudo-typical day for Twelve.

<h4>Out of Character</h4>Who: <a href=http://shadowlack.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=373#stormwing>Okkie</a>…
What: Just a typical school day, minus the weed. xD;
Where: Janardan Academy.
When: Dyo, Day 16, Year 81378 (4). Around lunchtime.
Rated: PG. Nothing bad, just a little reference to heat and menstruation. Boys beware? Heh.
<h4>In Character</h4>The shrill sound of the bell echoed through the corridors, and in through the open door of the laboratory. Okkie looked up with surprise, and peered at the clock. It was noon hour already? Her eyes darted from the time piece on the wall to her fellow dozen students in the lab; they were all putting their beakers in trays and wiping down their lab tables. A few were washing their paws in the sinks, while the quickest of the bunch gathered up their books, their bagged lunches, and their backpacks, and scrambled out the door. Of course, just before they exited, all the pupils shrugged their knee-length lab coats off, and hung them on the hooks to the right of the threshold, the folds of white hiding the rows of as-of-yet unused goggles beneath. It seemed everybody was in a rush to leave, and only a minute after the last echoes of the tone had passed away, Okkie was left alone in the lab. She was still standing at her lab table, holding a beaker in her mitt, peering idly at the rack for the laboratory coats. She was not in a rush like the others — in fact, she had no appetite at all. Thus, it was slowly and with patience that she finally put her beakers and bottles away in their trays, locked her equipment drawer, thoroughly washed her milky paws, and then hung her white jacket up on the rack. Before she finally exited the lab, she raised a white hand to wave at the professor, whom had been politely ignoring her while she slowly cleaned up. Now, he waved and winked at her, and Stormwing hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders and slipped from the room, her feeting padding quietly on the floor as she headed up the hallway.

There were students on her left, and students on her right, standing up against the lockers. Talking, kissing, making fun of one another. Okkie passed the typical group of band geeks, and waved politely when a small female with braces on her teeth and spectacles over her large eyes exuberantly flailed at her. She kept moving then, moving silently and stealthily, her modest black flares and white tank barely calling attention to herself. It was only when she neared a group of black-clad stoners that she finally showed any sign of voice and life, and she slapped a few high-fives. Of course, none of them had a joint lit in the patrolled hallways, but one particularly attractive male winked at the banded pendragon and slipped a sandwich bag into her rear pocket. Okkie pinched his bicep, then gave him a quick hug, and was on her way again, back to being silent. The long hall stretched before her, the courtyard just a few turns ahead. But that turned out not to be where she was going — as she reached an intersection of the corridor, the teenager took a hard right, and shouldered her way into the ladies’ room.

There was a group of insanely thin females hovering around the mirrors, touching up their lip gloss and applying glitter to their eyes. Okkie peered at them, met each of their eyes in the mirror, and smiled a bit. It was something of a sarcastic smile, but none of the femmes took note. They all just waved cheerily, and then began to talk rapidly, something about cheerleading after school. The cocoa youth tuned them out, and headed to the stall at the end of the row, closing the door and locking it securely once she was inside.

Stormwing paused for a long while, waiting for the trio of anorexic preppies to exit the washroom. When they finally did, she sighed with relief, shrugged her backpack off her back, and hung it on the supplied hook. She then sank onto the toilet, her trim bum finding a comfortable position on the closed lid. Okkie then reached into her pocket, pulled out the bag, and examined the contents. Of course, she was rather flattered that the male, one whom she was sure was crushing quite passionately on her, had given her this weed. It was a fairly large amount. But it was crap compared to what the female grew in her own dormitory, absolute fodder. Thus, it was without hesitation that she stood once again, lifted the lid to the toilet, and dumped the contents of the bag into the water. An ounce of pressure on the silver handle, and the marijuana was sucked to who-knew-where. Some sewer rats will probably get a rather wet high, Twelve mused to herself, wiping her hands on her pants and standing quiet for a moment.

It was only when she was sure that no one was in the room, and nobody was approaching from outside the door, that Okkie gingerly unzipped her fly and pulled her pants down. She ever-so-carefully lowered herself onto the seat of the loo, tipped ears pricked nervously. The young female could not explain it to anyone, but she had an irrational fear — or was it embarrassment? — of having other pendragons listen in while she was using the restroom. She hated public bathrooms, and almost always shied away from them, and the only reason she was here today was because she was on her period and needed to change her Sunguz sungym. She did this easily and noislessly, her ears pricked the whole time, just waiting for some group of nosey girls to barge in and lean their ears against the door of her stall, snickering as they listened to every movement inside. Of course, this never happened, and Okkie was able to go about her business without interruption. After she was done, she flushed the toilet once more, then slunk from the stall, her backpack held loosely in one hand as she trailed to the row of sinks.

The Kanji-marked juvenile washed her hands, then studied her reflection, turning her head from side to side, making sure every hair was in its proper place. Though she did not easily let onto the fact, she was quite a vain pendragon. Most of the time, she cared about her appearance as much as the next pendragon. Perhaps moreso. She wanted to be as attractive as possible… though she never really knew why. Sure, her looks had gained her a nice bit of populalarity and notoriety in the school, and they sure as hell had worked their magic on Javelin. But, beyond that, she could not explain her need to be pretty. It was just a simple obsession of hers. Hence, it was without bashfulness or hesitation that she ran her hand over each cheek, smoothing her scaled fur, and then it was without any sense of shyness that she pulled eyeliner and mascara out of her bag for re-application. Five minutes later, she was satisfied with her façade, and she drew back from the mirror to get a closer look at the rest of her bodice. Quite thin, perhaps not exactly healthily so, but she would have to work on that later, eh? Finally finished, and feeling better than she had ten minutes ago — she even had a growing appetite now — Okkie pushed against the door, and exited the bathroom, now making her way towards the courtyard, hoping to meet up with someone for lunch.

 

When she finally emerged into the open and airy courtyard, Okkie paused for a moment to soak in the sudden sunlight. It felt great as it cascaded over her bare arms and shoulders, and she tilted her head backwards a bit to let its kisses whisper against her muzzle. She closed her eyes as she did this, allowing the mellow light to press gently against her eyelids. Then, thoroughly warmed by the illumination, she lowered her cranium to its normal angle, and peeled open her oculars. One glance told her the courtyard was already crammed with students, all doing different things. Some, of course, were opening sandwiches and taking gigantic bites, and others were digging into potato chip bags. Two chubby little basics were at a picnic table, heartily devouring a rather large birthday cake, and Twelve chuckled as she watched them for a brief moment. She then peered to the other side of the openness, and saw a large group of teenagers, flirting and cavorting, two males wrestling jovially in the grass. Part of Okkie urged her to gallop on over and join these pendragons, her friends, the supposed in-crowd. But a feeling of aloofness still hovered over the femme, and she did not want to be too close to males right now. Her heat cycle had ended, yes, and her receptivity was greatly dulled, but their keen noses would still pick up on it, and she would be teased and shoved and pinned down, their playful lust using her as an outlet. Which was something she was not so sure she could tolerate today, and so the banded female veered away from her usual group, and swung behind a tree before they could notice her and be offended by her avoidance.

For a few seconds, she hovered behind this tree, and then ’Kie shrugged off her backpack, and set it on the grass at the base. She squatted next to it, and began fishing through her items. Her paw sifted through notebooks, scrap paper, a sketchpad, dozens of pencils, a few markers, a stuffed sheep, and a few empty bottles of water. Digits then found what they were looking for — a slightly crinkled paper bag, which contained her lunch. Okkie straightened, leaving her book bag unzipped at her feet, and opened the brown sack. Inside, there was a few fruits and vegetables, a perfectly square of moist meat, and a carton of milk. And even a small, carbohydrate biscuit for dessert. It would give her the energy she needed for water polo practice after classes. Not to mention the fact that it balanced out her lunch perfectly.

Speaking of food, the Kanji-marred youth wiggled her nose as a strange scent wafted past her nose. She closed her lunch bag and held it in one fist as she peered around the tree, her eyes searching. What kind of odor was that? It smelled like rotting meat, and blood. But sort of salty, too, like fish. Her mismatched orbs floated over the sparse crowding of students around her, until her steely gaze fell on an ivory femme sitting alone on a bench just a few feet away. The cinnamon-and-marshmallow hybrid froze, the stagnant scent of blood washing over her again, and then she pawed forward, her every movement smooth and calculated. The aroma of blood was slightly alarming to her, because, even though the majority of pendragons were at least omnivorous, most meat was cooked. But whatever this blood-banded female had was definitely not cooked at all. In fact, as Okkie came right up behind the other, the scent of raw flesh was simply undeniable.

“Is that sushi? Quite a strange meal for a student,” she commented as she swung her feet over the bench and sat, one milky foot on either side, straddling the block of wood. “Oo, and what nice fangs you have.”

 

Her position on the bench, though quite far from being lady-like, had its own subtle purposes. By now, Okkie was a seasoned spy, or at least she would like to think so. Though she had never been on a field during a true mission, she had been putting her skills to use as long as she could remember, on far less important people. Such as the students in the courtyard during Janardan’s lunch hour. They encompassed every sort of personality, appearance, and social status that existed on the planet — from nervous nerds to scantily-clad baby prostitutes to rich preppies sporting the hottest new shoes. The student body here made an interesting pack of pendragons to spy on, and ever since she had come to the Academy, the young Stormwing had been keeping watch on them. She had sharpened her ability to follow a roaming student, silently and stealthily, and to listen to their breathing patterns to see how they were feeling. She also knew how to move into earshot without seeming intrusive, to retrieve many juicy morsels of gossip from those groups of girls that liked to cluster around each other and giggle. Many other aspects of her art were fine-tuned, but one of Okkie’s personal favorites was positioning. Her professors had pounded into her head the importance of stance, and how it communicated dominance and intimidation when a spy was questioning one of their suspects. Thus, as she straddled the bench there in front of the duo-banded stranger, she was perfectly aware of all the signals she was sending to the other female — her stature was trying to convey boldness, fearlesness, and an in-your-face quality. It was a tactic not meant to scare or alarm the milky white stranger, but it was definitely meant to play on subtleties that would, in time, make her gradually less and less comfortable in the presence of Stormwing.

So far, however, the ivory femme did not seem to be in a state of discomfiture. After Okkie had spoken her piece, the other put in her own two cents, without looking up. She continued to fish through her wares, until the stench of raw meat grew stronger still. Okkie watched as the unfamiliar female pulled a small, squished bag from her pile of items. Inside, there was a mess of color, and Okkie grimaced despite herself. She was not a fish-eater, though she enjoyed crustaceans and some other seafood, and the scent of the sushi made her lean back, disgusted. However, her basic carriage never altered, and once the smell faded into her olfactory tissue, the Kanji-marked female leaned forward again, eyeing the other’s lunch without any sense of bashfulness.

“It is not so peculiar that you like to eat it, it is more odd that you decided to bring such a stinky meal to school. You’re probably offending half the courtyard by now, with that smell. Not, mind you, that I care. Half of them deserve much more than dirty smells to be shoved up their noses. Anyway — about your fangs. By any chance, would you happen to be a blood-sucking vamp?”

She was only voicing the first conclusion that had sprung into her mind. The fangs, and the odd repast, had set alarms off in her head. Not to mention, one of her subcourses on spying had been focused on the cultures of enigmas like weredragons and vampires. She knew that, when in public, night hunters could not consume blood, lest the general audience become aware of their secret. But, the next best thing — any sort of raw meat — was a favorite snack amongst them. Thus, Okkie’s suspicion about the curving teeth and the sushi were not misplaced nor too pretentious. In fact, as she peered at the fellow banded pendragon, waiting for a response, she was quite confident that her quick deduction was right on the money.

 

Bi-colored oculars watched raptly as the white stranger pawed at her ruined lunch. Okkie was disgusted by the squashed hunks of raw fish, and their smell was beginning to overpower her senses again. But she tried her best to ignore it, and to keep her attention strictly upon her latest victim of ruthless interrogation. There was so much to study about this unfamiliar pendragon, so much to discover! She knew there was far more to the marked feline than sharp fangs and an appetite for sanguine juices. This pendragon had to have a family, perhaps a mate, maybe she had even popped out a kid or two by now. Then, of course, she had to have a history, a past, a story to tell. Was it interesting? As Okkie eyed the stranger, she had to wonder. Once she found out more of the basics about this vampire creature, including her name, then perhaps she could dive deeper and query further. But that would take some calculation, and some very precise wording. After all, it took smarts and genuine intent to build trust, and trust was the requirement here. Once you had that, you had it all. You could dig deep, and find out anything you wanted to know.

“Does it bother me? Not at all. The one thing I embrace the most is diversity, and the justice it requires to preserve it. As long as you do not attempt to suck my blood, I will have nothing but respect for you."

Suddenly, just across the yard, a bout of shouting erupted. Okkie was momentarily distracted from her task at hand, as her mismatched orbs slid away from Odi and towards the source of the clamor. Coyote-like ears, tipped in porcelain milk, pasted back to her nape as her gaze focused on a pair of males. One was a bright, flashy crimson color, with white markings, and he had muscles rippling all over his young body. He was quite draconic in appearance, and the benefit of intimidation was definitely his to wield. And he was doing just that — the other male in the fray was his victim. Dark indigo, with black eyes, the smaller pendragon cowered in front of his attacker, a kitten in both appearance and personality. He was cradling his wrist, which was bent at an odd angle, and staring at the ground. Okkie could almost feel the tears springing to his eyes in her own watery oculars, and a tongue of rage licked up her spine. For a moment, she remained still, watching as the red male laughed over his so-called triumph, then turned to high-five a few other asinine jocks. When he turned back to scoff one last time at his victim, the female’s wrath burst forth in a blood-curdling snarl. Now completely distracted from Odi and everything entailed, Okkie launched away from the bench, towards the small group of younger males, bristling and growling. Clear, unbridled hatred for the bully flashed across her façade, and harsh words erupted from her maw, unchecked, but still cuttingly political.

“How dare you kick around another pendragon as if he is your subordinate. Do you really believe you are stronger, and he weaker? What does your physical show of egomanical bastardism show? It just makes you look like a sick, twisted individual who has no other way of boosting his confidence than by making others feel lesser. Your actions are a mask to cover your truly weedy personality. One day, you will receive your punishment, when he uses his intelligence to reach the stars, while you rot in some prison, your sentence for using your muscle to show off. Get an attitude adjustment right fast, because if you don’t, I will make it my personal mission to see you sitting on the thirteenth shelf of hell."

By now, several lunch and recess monitors had arrived on the scene, and they watched the chastisement apprehensively. They should have stepped in, told Okkie it was not her place to scold students — it was up to faculty and staff to deal out punishments for misconduct. But the passion in the banded pendragon was so acute, and her words so chilling, that not one adult dared to mess with her speech. Not to mention, half of them knew her by reputation, and were aware that she was one of very few pupils at the Academy who truly wielded more dominance than most of the teachers. They would have risked self-esteem, dignity, and perhaps even their necks if they tried to intervene. Thus, it was with a sense of discomfiture that they held back, until the Kanji-marked youth finally turned away, disgusted, and prowled back towards her interview with the vampire.

“My apologies. I have an incredible sense of fairness instilled in me, and I cannot just stand by and let stupid crapfaces like that push the nice people around. Now, mind you, notice that I did not turn to the one that was victimized, and offer sympathy to him. He has to learn to stand up for himself, and my empathy will not help him in any way. I just hope my words inspired him to have more control the next time a thing like that happens."

While she spoke to Odi, Okkie watched the disbanding group across the yard. A monitor was leading the injured youth into the building, and another was leading the culprit towards the Janardan offices. The female smirked, her eyes cold and hard like ice chips. There was a great sense of satisfaction in her, which was only deepened when the indigo male with the sprained wrist turned to her just before vanishing into the building, and gave her a look, fire dancing in his eyes.

 

The look he gave her was one of liquid fire. It said, Next timeÂ… No, wait. There will be no next time. I will be the one intimidating. Not the other way around. There was conviction in his gaze, solid as stone. He no longer looked like a pathetic pendragon, victimized and kicked around, knees dirtied as he bent over the ground, tears springing to his dark oculars. Though he cradled his wrist, fractured, it was without shame. It was to be the last time he would be hurt by a bully. It was his mark of change. And he knew it. He smiled delicately, a single sharp fang emerging over his lip, and then vanished into the building, leaving a silent legacy of empowerment behind him.

Meanwhile, his enemy, the carmine youth, began to struggle with his escort. The monitor shrieked with anger as the nioti twisted from her grip, and she glared daggers at him as he wheeled away from her and paused. He grinned at her, a loathing, teasing smile, and then began to trot back towards the courtyard. The monitor followed him at a brisk pace, looking around for back-up. But the other monitors were off doing other things, and this one was left alone to deal with the little brute. His friends were added to the equation when the red male crept amongst them, using their bodies as a barrier betwixt himself and the adult. She was intimidated by the cluster of youngsters, all whom looked at her with scathing eyes, but still she persisted, reaching out an arm to grab her target. He dodged away, and a young female swiped at the monitor’s mitt, growling as she did so. Taken aback, the mature female backed away. Part of her had desired to strike back, let the youth know its place in the school system. Yet, abuse of pupils would not be tolerated. It would be considered a sign of irresponsibility and incompetence. Especially with the rest of the situation to take into account — she was supposed to be delivering the young red male to the principal right now, but here he was, frolicking with his friends, playing games with her head, and quite possibly pushing her towards termination.

Luckily, just the right set of eyes had latched onto the entire situation, from beginning until end. Okkie watched with hatred gleaming in her eyes, once again forgetting the presence of Odi next to her. Her attention was entirely trained up the little beast, his young muscles rippling beneath his leathery skin as he danced just out of the monitorÂ’s reach. She wanted to reach out and kill him, just like that, to relieve the frustration and anxieties of the innocent monitor. But, alas, murder was not exactly acceptable, especially in such a public place. Another confrontation would have to do. For the second time, Okkie unwound her legs from her seat, and slunk across the courtyard, this time her expression livid and wooden. Her claws were unsheathed, and her large ears pinned back. Lip was curled as she stalked closer, and tail switched to and fro. Her appearance was one of dominance and wrath, and as she approached, several of the culpritÂ’s companions saw her, and fled in silence. Even the monitor saw her coming, and backed down, already weakened by her chase of the delinquent. She watched on with wide eyes as Stormwing came closer, and closer, still, until she was standing right behind the little red demonÂ… whose shoulder she tapped with a single claw, as if she were some stranger wanting to ask the time.

“Filthy little piece of dirt," she hissed when he swung around, and she grinned when he shrank back at the sight of her. “No lesson learned. A crying shame, you know. To have wasted my breath on a little shit like yourself. Now, look, you have me swearing. Which means I am really, really mad. So mad I can barely speak. I will have to keep this short, and to the point. Little bastard, if you do not follow that monitor into the building, and sit down in front of the principal, and ’fess up to how much of a little crap cake you are, I will take you to my proverbial office. I will lay into you until you scream for mercy and can only run home, crying for your mama. Sure, I will be suspended, perhaps expelled, but the gods will thank me for whipping the ass of a little piss like yourself. Now — go. Or I will make good on my promise."

Her earlier speech was a nursery rhyme compared to her current words. Each was delivered with precise venom, injected with controlled fury which spread itself out like wildfire, surrounding the juvenile delinquent. He quivered where he stood, the tip of his tail shaking as she grimaced and stared at her midsection. Too afraid to stare into those hateful, hybrid eyes. For a full two minutes, he stood there, submissive in front of her, every last scrap of egoism having melted from his frame. Then, the monitor finally stepped forward, nodded to Okkie, and grabbed the red devil. She dragged him back towards the offices, and this time, there was no fight left in him. He followed like a beaten mongrel.

“Stupid fucking kids," Okkie spat when she once again returned to the picnic table. She smiled apologetically at Odi, her eyes dancing as she looked upon the white stranger. “Sorry, don’t mean to poison your ears, it’s just that I really hate… anyways. You still think I’m gallant after that? Hah. Thanks for the compliments, anyhow. I would return them, if only I had grounds for it. You will have to tell me about yourself so I can flatter you just as much, eh? Oh, and by the way, you can call me Okkie."

She reached out a white mitt, claws still unsheathed, for a handshake.