Remember, remember, the 5th of November! 

Remember, remember, the 5th of November! 

OOC

(( Right after I say “I’M IN A ROUGH SPOT” 

I go ahead and dream about everyone on my dash. )) 

OOC

(( Aaahh I’m sorry for being lame and not doing anything. I haven’t been really up to it recently, sorry! If you want to contact me ( I’m really friendly! ) my email is panty-shot at hotmail! I hope to be active soon, you guys are really amazing! ♥ ))

It’s been really quiet lately…

Apollo hasn’t shown up to the agency for a while. 

Artemis hasn’t, either. 

You’d think it wouldn’t be that hard to leave a voicemail, at least! 

…. 

OOC: My headmaster, the magician

(( Since dash is dead, I’ll tell you a story.

I dragged myself into school that morning. The automatic doors struggled to separate themselves to let me in through the frozen winter. My shoes squeaked down the hallway as I pushed the door open to the biology room. 

My classmates were shocked to see me at school, but that’s not to say they weren’t pleased. At least, I would hope that was the case. 

The teacher wasn’t there yet, so everyone was lounging around in various parts of the room, discussing things and telling jokes.

I greeted a friend of mine, the class clown, you could say. She’s smart, popular, beautiful, and always a little off. A childhood friend I’d recently reconnected with.

Heaving my bag with me to the back of the class, I slumped myself over my desk in the far corner of the room. In front of me usually sat several kids, so the teacher never got quite a good glimpse of me. 

I always felt guilty whenever we made eye contact. 

I considered opening up my netbook-which I had recently gotten for school, but I decided against it. Class hadn’t started yet, and why I came in at all, or this early for that matter, still boggled my mind. I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about the information that would be gone over in class, the homework I’d never received, the projects that I’d never started, the inside jokes I’d never heard of. It was a very unpleasant feeling being so left out. 

The door swung open. 

"Good morning, class!" 

A tall, balding, middle aged man announced to us. It was the headmaster, the principal, whichever name you’d like to give him. 

"Would you like to see a magic trick?" 

He proudly marched to the front of the room, pulling something out of his coat pocket. 

I sat up a little to watch him, he’d always been good entertainment. 

The rest of my classmates silenced themselves and turned to watch as well. 

"This may look like an ordinary pen, but…" 

He held out a pen. A long black pen. He waved it once towards the side of the classroom.

"Alakazam!" 

It wasn’t a pen. 

It was a flamethrower. 

I was awake for the rest of week.  ))