School Days chapter nine: Haunted part one: Before.-*-.
As it turned out having about six hundred boy in one building wasn't a smart idea. The whole morning was filled with broken lips and fake farting.
Franken had been smart enough to wake up and shower, but Spirit hadn't. Twice someone had tried to break into the bathroom, and ended up stabbing someone with a fork. But that wasn't even compared with two floors above them two twin British redheads tossed a firecracker in the bathroom of a showering Native American boy.
A 6:40 Spirit sat down next to Franken and grabbed a large stack pancakes and started to shove them down at a neck breaking speed. Franken watched him for a moment for separating in the ingredients in his hash, morning them so they were in alphabetical order, and then are them slowly.
Spirit watched Franken with a small smile before grabbing the strawberry jelly and tucking it in his pants for later.
Victoria turned to look at her class of first years. "What is a soul?"
A hand was raised before Victoria was done
Soul Eater/HP Crossover: Enemies of the heirFranken Stein and Spirit Albarn walked through the Hogwarts halls, just having gotten done with a mutual detentions, and concerting how they had acted they'll be getting another one.
Spirit was still laughing. He untied his Gryffindor tie and tied it around his forehead. Franken shrugged and followed suit with his own Ravenclaw tie.
Spirit wasn't popular with the other Gryffindors. They believed him more Hufflepuff than Gryffindor, but Franken's seen another side of him that rarely comes out. A side that Franken really didn't understand how it could exist under the redhead's exterior personality.
Spirit stopped, and Franken copied. Spirit pointed towards the window. “Have you ever seen spiders acting like that?”
Franken looked around the older student to see the spiders. They walked out the window in a long, straight row.
“Arachne's probably messing with the spiders again.”
Franken shrugged, but when he started to walk his shoe fell in something wet. “Wate
School Days Origins: Blind Bullet Catcher.She was a strange girl; blood red dress, gray skin and hair. Her eyes held wisdom that was beyond her years.
A jack of spades twirled between the fingers on her left hand.
This town was new to her, which was always a good thing. She saw something colorful out of the corner of her eye so she turned.
The card became still in her hand.
As she read the poster she caught a bit of yellow out of the corner of her eye.
She ripped the poster off the wall and raced after them. She passed under two tall dancing lover. As she watched them they didn't look at her.
She went back to following the two headed person. She found a peep hole in a tent and looked through.
A songstress that seemed to be half goat. A crazy boy that ate dead flesh. A brother and sister sharing a body.
She leaped back. What in the world is this? This has to be stopped.
She heard footsteps behind her. As she turned she saw something heading for her face, heard a scream, and everything went black.
School Days Origins: Crossing PathsMarie knew that her family had money troubles. She knew that the fights that her partents got into were about money. How her father had lost his job and her mother didn’t have one to begin with.
She knew that they were scared. She also knew that her sisters were scared. And that she was scared.
Fear circled throughout the family, causing fights and tears, but the source was ignored.
One day Marie woke up and her mother was gone. She snuck out of the house and into the woods to find her when she heard a scream.
She ran over to see a boy not much older than her wearing dirty clothes. He was holding his arm to his chest.
“What happened?” she asked as she knelt down beside him.
“I think it might be broken,” he gasped, avoiding her question. “Go get your father.”
Marie nodded and ran back to her house, bringing her father back to where the boy was, but he wasn’t there. There was only a cross carved into the tree.
She didn’t notice that h
Death of Day,
I am overly fond.
Burial of the sun,
Birth of the moon,
The tragedy of day
is over so soon.
That’s what happens
in the dead of the night.
School Days chapter eight: New Beginnings.-*-.
Joe walked onto the balcony with his hands in his pockets.
"You're back," a voice to his left said.
Joe nodded, but kept looking at the figure before him. The figure's back was turned. The three were silent for a moment.
"So, you've met them," the voice to Joe's left said as she pulled her dreadlocks into a ponytail.
Joe shook his head. "Only a few. Franken Stein, Spirit, Marie Mjölnir, and Hecate. And it seems that Spirit and Hecate new each other. He called her 'Raven Tail'."
"Oh, God. Where have I heard that before?" the girl tightened her ponytail.
"How many are there total?" the boy turned to the girl. Joe took a few steps closer to the pair as the girl look at a list on her lap.
"Nine. The oldest is Spirit, then Kami Graves, Hecate, Peggy Roland, Arthur Penbrooke, Marie Mjölnir, Cécile Bertin, Azusa Yumi, and the youngest is Franken Stein."
"Why'd you take the time to put them in oldest to youngest?" Joe asked as the boy took the list.
"That's the way Vick
Spirit's SongGilded cage,
Life was gone before it started.
The Furies came,
and found me, centered in all the blame.
then lost me again.
Blue madness was my only true friend.
Sugar sweetened my bitter drink,
but was snatched away at the brink.
Good hunted us, and claimed many as their own,
and the information queen lost her thrown.
Red roses marked the people around me.
Death came, along with something more to see,
My life had found new meaning.
twice something was taken that should have been given,
Secrets flew out,
trust was thrown about.
A new ring brought endless joy,
but soon the blame had come back.
Red lips pressed against my wrist,
reminding what I missed.
Sewing my past together.
I had always been good at hiding my scars,
it was easier because no one looked.
People I lost.
Memories I fought.
And then it stopped.
They wouldn't hear, so it stopped.
And it wouldn't come back.
Willow TreeWhy am I here? On this world where no one cares about what I say or do. Willow trees to my back, water surrounds me, darkness rises. Secrets fly away on the wind, when they know they should stay close, like the little flowers that bloom at the bottom of the tree. Light falls, but so does rain, like tears on the Willow tree. I make things awkward with my presence. Why am I like this? I want to climb to the top of the tree and be all alone, where everything is so much better. By myself, where insanity overrides the loneliness.
Fake LoveIt takes him a moment to realize that she's smiling at him. Not that twisted bit of lip she does when she's accomplished something. Not that superior smile she looks down on him with, even though he is taller. Not that coy, grim slash of mouth she gives him whenever he does something wrong, no. She's smiling at him, as though her heart wasn't black, as though he wasn't a freak, a monster. She's smiling at him like this is the most normal thing in the world.
Maybe it is. He didn't know. In that moment the only thing he knew was that when she smiled at him he sees something that isn't an evil witch, a seductress woman, the person who kidnapped him. He sees something that he didn't want to see. Something deeper.
So he tells her so, and she just shakes her head sadly. Her hand moves forward, and he thinks that it's going to choke him, but she touched the part of his chest were his soul rested. And she just looks at him.
He wants to push her away, call her names until she's mean and narciss