Put a smile on your face.

<blockquote>http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=12Okatteiru Stormwing.</a>
Early morning, Tria, 49, 81379.
All welcome, though no more than two.
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A slight rustle could be heard, as Stormwing folded her newspaper, and set it before her on the table. She took a brief moment to peer about the Caféteria - nearly empty, seeing as it was only seven o'clock on a Saturday morning - then leaned forward to resume poring over the periodical. Next to the laid-out paper was a small white dish with two slices of dry toast, as well as a mug of coffee. As the young thill read the morning news, she intermittenly sipped at her black coffee and nibbled at her toast. Whenever a crumb or two fell upon the newspaper, she absently brushed them away with a white hand, and continued to scan the pages laid out before her.

This calm reading and breakfasting went on for a good half hour, and then Storm looked around again, ears twitching. While it had been nearly silent when she had arrived earlier, she now heard several voices, as well as the sizzle-pop of frying bacon and eggs. A slightly annoying scent, one the pendragon easily identified as smoke, tickled her nostrils, and she turned around to eye one of the food stalls behind her. Not surprisingly, a young cook-in-training was fanning her hands over a smoking toaster. Nearby, Stormwing spied two charred pieces of toast, and she clicked her tongue and smiled.

Turning around in her seat, she gingerly folded her paper again. She left the dish, with its left-over crusts, but grasped the mug of coffee. The newspaper was easily tucked beneath her arm, then, as Stormwing plodded from the Caféteria. Once the early crowd started to filter in, it would be noisy for the rest of the day — and though Winger had known hard parties and loud crowds in her past, nowadays, she preferred solitude, calm, and quiet.

It took less than five minutes to reach the doors, and the brown thill easily pushed through, despite her small cargo. She peered around with her hybrid eyes, and saw no more than two other teenagers inhabiting this small branch of the Courtyard. Stretching as much as she could, considering the items in her grip, Storm padded over to a stone bench, and sat. The Tria sun had already managed to warm it up, and the female sighed in contentment. She gingerly placed her mug next to her, as well as the newspaper, but she didn't take up her reading again. Instead, she drew her demin-clad legs up onto the bench, and twisted them into a pretzel-style arrangement. She then folded her white hands in her lap, and peered calmly around the stretch of the Courtyard.

One of the other individuals she had seen, a thill, had already proceeded into the Caféteria, but an arden was still present, his nose buried in a textbook. With a small smile playing of her muzzle, Stormwing watched him, curious. He shifted from foot to foot while she watched, and his lips moved as if he were murmuring to himself. Not noticing that he was being watched, he eventually began to walk, though his muzzle remained buried in the book. He slowly strolled up the flagstone path and into the Caféteria, never once looking up, gracefully maneuvering his way into the bolding.

"Alone at last," Stormwing murmured quietly then, though she hadn't really cared about sharing the Courtyard with others. She tilted her head upwards and backwards, letting the sun soak her chiseled features. "I love Tria, god, how I love Tria," she whispered as she did so, loving the feel as the sun's rays stroked her countenance.

As the sun kissed her eyelids, Storm let her thoughts stray from the early morning sun, and the warm Courtyard. She began to think, not for the first nor the last time, about all the events that had led up to her being here. It had only taken a few weeks, scarcely more than a month, for her entire life to change drastically.

It had, of course, started with her drunken conversation with Koani Grader at The Watering Hole, and had led to the attack on Ajita. After that, the path of life had led her to Krokino Prison in the heat of the desert, where she'd remained for only a short time. She had been released and a settlement had been reached with her victim, Koani Grader, outside of court. Stormwing, as well as her best companion, Shriker, had been surreptitiously granted a large fortune. It was "reparation" for the severe injustices Koani had forced upon the other two thills, but Storm knew it was also given to them so that they'd shut up and leave the Grader alone. Not that she minded, not that Kakos had minded, either. With their new riches, both had gone on to begin their more comfortable, wealthy lives.

Of course, though they'd been closer than ever during the ordeal at Krokino, and though Stormwing would always consider "the Evil One" to be her best and truest friend, their paths had diverged somewhat as they had scrutinized their separate, though equally large, sums of money. Winger had no clue what Shriker had done with hers, but the infamous "Ms. Stormwing" had purchased a large abode in Watani, as well as a few other things. She had also opened her Janardan dormitory room to roommates, and had become fast friends with Radin Dragyn and Cayson Lapices, whom now bunked in her room for free. But, besides the house, none of her purchases were of major importance — except for the guns.

Though the Krokino wards had given back her twin pair of Glock-like pistols, she'd expanded her arsenal soon after buying her mansion. She figured that now that she was rich and, to a degree, famous, she could use a few more weapons. It had been with great delight that she'd handpick her models: a Luger, with a thin barrel and a gleaming wooden grip, a Desert Eagle, and a modified Colt .45. Her prized possessions. She carried one with her at all times, usually one of the latter, hidden in a holster beneath her shirt. Now, as her thoughts came full circle, and she smiled delicately at the memory of buying her beloved guns, she reached under her gray tee shirt to feel the Colt laying there, cold and steely. It was heavy against her ribcage, but she felt comfortable and safe with it there. Neither Koani nor anybody else would ever be able to mess with her — or her friends — again.

Now lowing her short, sharp muzzle away from the sky, Winger opened her mismatched eyes. The wisps of her most recent memories faded, and she blinked to get the sudden light out of her gaze. Although she had five majestic guns now, and though she would always be the fierce, aggressive, and furiously just pendragon she was born to be, Stormwing favored relaxation and tranquility these days. Whereas she would have, in the past, sneered and thought narcissistic thoughts about the group of young pendragons marching across the yard and towards the Caféteria, she now only gazed with intensity but serenity. They looked back, and whispered behind their hands, probably something about her famous capers. Though, of course, part of her mind wanted to rip and tear at them, and though she almost opened her mouth to tell them to shut up, instead, she tilted her head, then looked away. A bird in the distance chirped, as if in some peculiar affirmation of her positive actions, and she leaned back on the bench, braching herself with toned arms.

"The coffee's cold, and the paper's read. The day's just starting, and it's already hot. Sounds sort of miserable... to some. To me, sounds like the start of a great day. Maybe I'll go gun-shopping again... or maybe I'll sign a few autographs," Storm joked to herself. As she spoke, she freed one arm from her body weight, and dug in one of many cargo pockets in her black jeans. Before long, she withdrew a small round blob, with tentacles dangling from it. It looked sort of lifeless and odd, until it turned over and blinked its protuberant eyes at the pendragon in whose grip it found itself. Squeaking, it blinked some more, sleepily, and then wrapped its tentacled arms tightly about Stormwing's hand. "Don't you agree that it looks like the start of a great day, Scooter?" His owner queried, to which the small familiar answered with a hearty mewl.

The young pendragon slowly untangled her "pet's" tentacles from her hand, and then flopped the small creature into her lap. She then leaned back again, once again soaking in the Tria morning's sunlight, becoming oblivious as more and more early starters began to head towards the Caféteria, some glancing her way with furtive, admiring glints in their eyes...

 

It was the last year that Tsuj would be attending Jarnardan, deciding it would be a fine morning to eat in the often crowded cafeteria. She sat at a random table near the back end of the room, sipping at her coffee, a copy of Ramathian Times in her hand. Slowly reading through the boring articles at the front, she smiled. Her bright red fur absorbed the heat of the rather enjoyable Tria sun. Despite the usual happenings of the day, such as her boring paper, or her plain coffee, she thought of the day as being almost, nice. It was odd for Tsuj Najkoji, one who sought prefection in everything. That was the dragons biggest flaw. She smirked, noticing other dragons enter the room, wondering if they would also have the same schedules day after day. If they sought prefection.

She needed fun, and now. Hopefully nobody was looking. She drew a small onyx figuire from her bag, in the shape of a house cat. "Come to me, Niisha" she whispered, and in seconds the cat appeared, eyes glowing lavender from the light of the sun. At times she got lonely, having barely any friends. Niisha helped her on such days. She streched her hand across the animal, petting it's soft, black fur.

She stretched out on the chair, adoring the beautiful day, but something was about to go wrong.

 

<blockquote>Hm... Elsa, I originally posted this before I saw you'd replied, and was going to edit it, but I thought it would be okay to leave it. Your character seems to still be in the Caféria, unless I'm mistaken? And ours are in the Courtyard, outside. I don't know if you already had planned to do so, but I think it will work just fine if your character comes outdoors in your next post?
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After another long spell of bathing in the sun's golden glow, Stormwing tilted her head downwards again, eyes scanning the Courtyard once more. Not to her surprise, there was now a dozen or so pendragons milling about, some chatting amiably with friends as they headed in and out of the Caféteria, others lingering by themselves, scuffing their feet on the ground and simply floating about. The brown thill studied each stranger in turn, and found no familiar faces, although she hadn't expected to. Her group of friends here at the Academy shifted and mutated, almost more liquid than water, and the fact that the school was enormous didn't help matters much. Though she'd spent several years here, she had barely clung to any true friends, with three exceptions to date: Kakosenas Shriker, Radin Dragyn, and Cayson Lapices. Except for the former, she couldn't really be sure that she'd found longtime friends, but she had a feeling about the ardens, and it was a good one. It was the reason she'd offered them space for free. They'd been extremely appreciative, though she had a feeling their affection was not only due to her random generosity, but also because of the fact that she was well off, and, well, because she had a relatively good ass.

Chuckling to herself, Stormwing sat up. Scooter slipped from her lap, squeaking and squelching, and settled next to her coffee mug. As his owner asbsently scanned the Coutyard again, the jellyfish-like creature slowly lifted a tentacle, reached it over the brim of the cup, and inserted it into the cold coffee. He then drew it back out, and held it up to his small 'o' of a mouth. Scooter then suckled, and as he did so, he used several other of his prehensile arms to open the newspaper to the comics section. Contentedly settling down, he sipped the cold drink and read, his wide eyes filled with amusement over the brightly colored comic strips.

"Enjoying yourself?" Winger said shen she finally turned her head to see her familiar. She grinned at him, and gave him a pat. As she did so, she noticed that he was rather dry. He was probably overdue for a nice swim, and the thill vowed to take him to the Janardan pool in a short while. She hadn't been there in ages, almost since she'd dropped from her Captain's position on the Academy's water polo team. As she remembered those days, and how well she'd played, she also remembered the many thills she had known on the team. Nowadays, she'd be hard pressed to recognize any of them. It was just that too much had happened, and they were in separate worlds now. Not that it mattered to Winger. As she stroked a white thumb once more over Scooter's head, she realized she had all the friends she wanted and needed.

"Hm... you're feeling a bit crispy there, mate. I'll take you to the pool as soon as I get out of my Advanced Ramathian course. Gah... I hate that class. I mean, make no mistake. I love this school, I love this campus, and I love coming here a few times a week. But that class makes me feel like I've been hung from the ceiling by my toenails," Storm jabbered to her valli. "Oh, well. It's only an hour and a half. Then we'll swim... and theeen..." She pondered a moment, mindlessly fishing in a cargo pocket as she did so. "We can grab lunch, visit the boys..." At this, Scooter paused in his readings and squeaked boisterously, bouncing a bit, as he loved Radin and Cayson, "Then we can go home and have a peaceful afternoon. Or something. Right now, I just need a smoke."

The hand that had been rummaging in a cargo pocket withdrew, a cigarette and a lighter deftly held within angel-white digits. Stormwing easily plugged the cigarette into her mouth, and then lit it, exhaling happily as she sat there on the bench, valli at her flank, sun on her face, and strangers milling by in ever-growing multitudes. Many individuals pointed at her, and whispered, but she paid them no attention. She simply smoked and waited for the clock to strike half past eight, because that's when her Advanced Ramathian class would begin.

In the meantime, a thin haze of smoke surrounded the female pendragon, which she dragged on with subtle enthusiasm. She was so focused on hammering another nail into her coffin, that it surprised her somewhat when she heard muttered Ramathian behind her. Jerking slightly, she looked up, to see an arden hovering nearby, looking... constipated. Scooter, too, looked up, a tentacle pausing in the air in the middle of turning a page, and another also in midair, dripping with cold coffee. The pair stared quietly at the mumbling stranger, and then Storm coughed. She held her cigarette between two fingers on her right hand, and waved the smoke away from her face with the other.

"Iyoj fyjts amani, hoh? Fhi't shus?" She asked after the miasma had cleared and she could peer openly and curiously at the stranger.

 

Sitting up, she called her magical cat back into the onyx figuire. She casually tucked the statue into her bag, which was then slung above her left shoulder. Tsuj gathered her things, throwing the coffee cup into the garbage to her side, as well the old copy of the newspaper. The sun shone bright today, a good sign in the eyes of the female dragon. She decided to venture outside in the courtyard, perhaps to test her skills in pyrokenesis. She did have a test in the next few days, her teacher had been rather harsh when telling them that it was worth half of the entire term. She shook her head, walking outside of the overly crowded room and into the halls.

Many panicked dragons seem to be in a hury, running down the halls, crashing into the walls of the school, and even one crashing into her. She ignored the dragon, who appeared bewildered and not having any concern for her well being.

By all standards, Tsuj was not a popular female in the Jarnardan school. People rarely stopped to talk to her, with the exception of her only friend, Baal Deathwing. But even these days he was into a new crowd, and besides, she was leaving the school next year, meaning it would be rare to see the charming dragon. Sometimes she wished that people would be more accepting of her manor, and accept the fact that she was different from everyone else. It was a gift, something not meant to be shunned.

She smiled at the passing people in the hall, finally reaching the turn out into the courtyard. She looked around, shrugging. There were a few people outside today, some looked rather nice. One she reconized, not from class, but from seeing her inside the building. Her name was Stormwing, or something of the sort.

Tsuj walked out into the sunshine, remembering all the pleasant Tria afternoons she had spent. It had to be her favourite season, for she found peace in the warmth outside. She sat upon the steps, reaching into her bag for her leather gloves, which her teacher always warned her to wear when casting spells, because she was different.

 

<blockquote>The smoke had nearly dissipated, save for the small tendril that drifted up from the business end of Stormwing's cigarette, and she thought her politeness concerning it would make this male more at ease, in the case that he didn't like smoking. As it turned out, he made a somewhat repulsed face as he looked at the smoking thill, and began to turn away. Then, it seemed, her words penetrated his ears, and he spun back around. His clipped utterance caused Storm to blink — what hadn't he understood? She'd spoken clearly, in the same tongue he had. She'd just repeated what he'd said himself. But she quickly brushed away her quizzical expression, and said, "You said you were your own worst enemy, and I just want to know why."

Her voice was strong, but her gaze was stronger. Though the strange arden was not outwardly fidgeting, she got the impression that he was confused, or nervous. She wondered what was on his mind, and why he seemed so scatterbrained about what she'd said. Despite her thoughts, though, she offered him a small smile, and then took another drag on her live cigarette. Having easily noticed that the arden was not fond of smoke, she took care to blow it away from him, before looking back, eyebrows raised, expecting some sort of rejoinder.

Even as her eyes pinned on him, Stormwing saw another interesting individual in her peripheral vision. She turned her cranium slightly, eyeing the unfamiliar thill sitting on the steps that led to the Caféteria. She was tugging on a pair of gloves, and Winger thought it looked as if the stranger was preparing to work in a lab of some sort. Just as this thought struck her, and her mind filled with images of a mad scientist doing her work out in the open Courtyard, a rustle sounded besides the banded pendragon. Glancing sideways, it appeared the valli had grown bored of the proceedings. He turned a page and continued to read, this time scanning an article about a niotie that had been abducted, then heroically saved.

"Hm..." Stormwing said, watching Scooter for a moment. Her eyes then slipped to the thill on the steps, and back to the disgruntled looking male, still waiting for that answer of his.

 

She looked at the other dragons once more, who had appeared to be in conversation. Sudenly a bright orange flame surrounded her hands, up to the area where the gloves stopped. She looked around, making sure that no teachers lay in the courtyard at the moment, and decided to have a little fun. "Nui ri sha vlunat vli ni tyol" she cried, forcing her hands into the air. The flames grew larger, speeding into the sky, then they disappeared into ash.

She gasped, exasperated. That had taken much out of her, especially concidering the little sleep she had the night before. Shaking the ash out of her hair, she removed the gloves, placing them into her bag. It was amazing that they had not even been affected by the flames. Perhaps her teacher had placed a charm on them.

She smiled once more, looking to the sun for inspiration. It was a beautiful day, as she had thought many times before. For some odd reason, Tsuj was not at ease. She had too much on her mind these days.

 

<blockquote>"I don't speak Ramathian."

At this statement, Stormwing blinked, and then gaped somewhat at the unfamiliar arden. How could he have spoken it, then, if he didn't know the language? Absently grinding her cigarette out on the stone bench, then tossing its squashed remains into a nearby wastebasket, she mulled over how such was possible. She considered that, perhaps, this pendragon was simply repeating a line from a movie he'd seen, but that would be only a slight possiblity — almost all entertainment was strictly in the common tongue, not that of scribes and scholars. The only films that featured common use of Ramathian were classics, and documentaries, and she hardly believed the line he had spoken had come from something like that. Likewise, she could scarcely believe he was reciting a line from a song, either, as those were all in the universal language. Finally, after pondering the possibilities, she cleared her mind, and continued to stare at the male, nonplussed. It was only as she was peering at him that she realized he had elaborated while she was deep in thought, and now her mental processes back pedaled in order to register what else he'd said.

"Sometimes I scare myself. I think and say things that don't fit with my general idea of personality and control."

This was an obvious attempt at explanation, but Storm was no less confused than before. So, this arden was a schizophrenic, or a general mental case. That didn't really explain it for her, but it would suffice as a reason... although, on that note, she wasn't so sure she wanted to be in this guy's proximity, much less talking to him, if he wasn't 'in control' of himself.

"Um..." Winger tried to think of something dismissive to say, so that she could stand and leave. It was nearing half past eight, anyway, and her Advanced Ramathian class was going to be starting soon. "I have to..." The brown thill found her feet, and gathered Scooter, the newspaper, and her cup of coffee. Momentarily distracted, she trailed off, but then she looked up, and blinked her mismatched eyes at the stranger again. She wasn't afraid of him, of course, especially with her handy Luger heavy against her, but she was unsure, nevertheless. "I have a class, Advanced Ramathian, and I need to—"

"Nui ri sha vlunat vli ni tyol!"

Sharp muzzle snapped around, as Stormwing's intense gaze flicked towards the female on the stairs. Even as her eyes focused upon the unfamiliar thill, a ball of flame consumed the other's gloved hands. Storm watched with a bit of awe, but also a little bit of contempt. What was this pendragon doing out here in the Courtyard, casting flame spells? It was fairly audacious; she could hurt someone as she showed off her skills. Soon enough, though, the conflagration was put out, and the other female studied her gloves. Stormwing paused a moment, wondering how to react to this, if at all. Then, deciding she had at least a few minutes to spare before class — and wanting this excuse to leave the weird male's company — she prowled over towards the "mad scientist," as she was beginning to think of this stranger.

"Hey, not only was that dangerous, pretentious, but the line you screamed was totally lame." She gave a tight smile, as her tone of voice was half chastising and half joke. "Besides, you were late. I could've extended my lighter's lifespan if you'd only lit that fire a few minutes later."

 

She let her head fall down, sadness in her eyes. It was usual of the dragons in Jarnardan to do this. They had no understanding of her. She needed to cast her spells at least once a day, or something bad might happen. It would be the first day of school all over again, and that was something that Tsuj would rather not remember.

She turned her back to the dragon who had spoken, knowing that her feelings were right. She could never be at ease. It was just that Tsuj was always being teased, and her feelings often got hurt. It was too late. She was already upset, something which she had no force over. Running, far from the two dragons in the courtyard, she began to feel warmth, spreading from her hands to her toes.

"Oh, not again!" she cried and suddenly her body became surrounded by blue and orange flames. They faded after a few moments as she calmed her mind, thinking of better times. Then she turned back to the dragons, hoping that they were not scared, or even laughing at her.

 

<blockquote>Apparently, Stormwing's joke was not well received. The unfamiliar thill did not respond, but instead turned her back, an upset air about her. When she stood, then scrambled away, Storm was left behind, once more nonplussed. Her perplexity only grew as she turned to watch the other female, only to see her stop, scream, and burst into a mighty orange and blue conflagration. Had the banded pendragon not known that the other was a practicing pyrokinetic whom took jokes badly, she may have yelled, "Stop, drop and roll!" But, she knew that was probably not a smart thing to do. Especially since the fiery female seemed exasperated, upset, and frozen, despite the fire which engulfed her.

"Hey... it was a joke. Hey, are you okay?" She called out, just as the flames stopped licking at the other female's body. "I didn't mean to—"

As she was calling out, movement caught Storm's eye. She momentarily turned, to see the odd male, heading towards the Caféteria. He seemed mindless to the predicament, waving absently, as if one of their peers had not just burst into flame across the lawn. Storm sort of wanted to kick him for his lack of attention, but, instead, she reached out and grabbed his arm.

"This girl needs our help," she said, importantly, as if she had half an idea about what was really going on. "And, I'm sorry. You're weird, and I'm weird, so, we can probably help her, because she's hella weird. You know what they say about birds of a feather, flocking together... so, c'mon!"

 

Tsuj smiled, almost catious of the two dragons motives. She turned back to Stormwing for a second. "Ignore me" she replied, worried as ever. She reached into her bag for a moment, pulling out the onyx figuire once more. A tawny, black cat appeared in her arms. She whispered something to the cat which sounded a different kind of language. The cat nodded, and took off down the halls, towards the classrooms. She focused back on the two.

Her mind was blurred. Tsuj felt very dizzy, and in moments she had slipped between worlds. She was standing alone in a crowd of gray, floating figuires. Ghosts? A dream? She could see the area where she still stood, almost frozen. It was weird, a different form of feeling. She shook her head, and her own white figuire floated back inside her body, standing some ten feet below.

That was extremely weird she thought, looking around. For a second, it almost felt that she had died.

 

<blockquote>"I actually have no idea," Storm admitted to the arden whose arm was in her vise-like grip. "Well, first things first, though. What's your name? You can call me Winger," she provided for herself. Before allowing him to pause and answer, she tugged him towards the other thill.

"Ignore me," the female was saying as the pair of strangers approached her.

But Stormwing didn't stop, or even pause. She drew up beside her, the arden's arm still in her hand. Luckily for him, she dropped it when the other female withdrew a figurine from her pack, and somehow magicked it into a living, breathing organism. Surprised, but not yet startled, Storm watched the cat leap from its owner's arms and dash towards the Caféteria. Mismatched eyes did not follow it, however; they were pinned to this strange thill.

"What's wrong? What is it?" Winger asked. Just as she spoke, she noticed the the stranger female swayed a little bit, and looked slightly dizzy. Had the brown pendragon not feared that her arm would be singed, she would have reached out and tried to steady the unfamiliar girl. "Are you okay?"

She wondered if her voice was even penetrating the invisible fog into which the strange thill was obviously overcome by. If not, Storm only hoped that the brilliant sun would somehow be able to pierce it, and that she and the arden would be able to reach her.

 

After a few moments she stuck out her hand to the dragons.

"I'm Tsuj". She had begun to felt rather rude, but still, she was not to be trusted. The surge of flames could burn them at any moment, any time. Perhaps that was why nobody enjoyed her company. She shook her head once more, the black cat returning to her side, almost out of nowhere. As if it had ran out of the shadows. It ran into her arms, as she smiled.

"I'm sorry about before" she said, hoping that maybe she could make some friends. She needed another coffee. The feeling of leaving her body was hopefully from lack of sleep. Her teacher was being rather hard on her.

 

<blockquote>All of a sudden, it seemed, the strange female was back with them. She thrust a hand at Stormwing and... Turmoil, he called himself. Storm stared at the proffered hand for a moment, but didn't reach out to shake it. She smiled instead, an almost apologetic smile, which seemed to say, I'd rather not get burned today.

"Hi... Tsuj. I'm Stormwing, although you can call me Winger. Erm, if you don't mind my asking, what just happened here?"

She was, of course, referring to Tsuj's odd actions: running away, bursting into flame, taking a mental trip into space, and then returning as if nothing had happened. Storm only hoped the question wasn't somehow offensive, and that Tsuj wouldn't carry out another, similar episode. It had been peculiar enough the first time.

Even as she waited for the other thill's answer, Stormwing found herself thinking back to earlier in the morning. She'd been enjoying some freshly roasted coffee... some dry toast... an interesting newspaper. She'd had peace and quiet, and then she'd come out here, expecting serenity and sunshine. Now, she was stuck in the middle of an odd situation with two strangers. She could practically feel the road towards a more Zen lifestyle crumbling beneath her feet as she tried to reign in her patience and her wits.