The Opulent Quarrel - Round One: Mademoiselle Primfel's

The Opulent Quarrel - Round One: Mademoiselle Primfel's
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RE: The Opulent Quarrel - Round One: Mademoiselle Primfel's
Oh.

Okay.


Is the response one would give to something like ‘we’ve run out of peanut butter’ or ‘we’re going to be 5 minutes late’.

It is certainly not an appropriate response to ‘you’ve been forcibly conscripted into an interdimensional fight to the death’, that’s for sure.

But here Wren was, ‘oh okay-ing’ it with the best of them. Like a Grand Battle was naught but a small inconvenience. When you spend your free time hunting down freaks of nature, being jerked around by the ‘omniscient’ was just par for the course. Wouldn't be the first ‘god’ to mess with Wren, and she was going to be damn sure that it wouldn't be the last.

Wren took out her pipe and took a gander at her surroundings. She found herself in a hallway with hundreds of lockers hugging the walls, going straight to the ceiling 100 feet in the air. In between lockers was the occasional door leading to a perilous sheer drop or a billboard advertising various extra curricular activities, nothing fun mind you, just calls for extra revision of subjects. Along the floor a checkered patterned stretched seemingly infinitely, warping and shifting as the hall stretched on.

Wren sighed heavily between puffs of cerulean smoke (Yesterweed, reeks of liquorice, relieves anxiety, stress and mind control), she hated school with a passion. The uniforms, the lessons, the teachers, oh god, especially the teachers. Authority figures were something Wren never took a liking to but teachers in particular really got under her skin. She always ended up being kicked out of classes or being outright suspended from school for talking back to various tutors over the years. Unsurprisingly Wren spent most of her formative years skipping classes to smoke behind the bike sheds, something she still doesn't regret.

Wren glanced down to her left hand. She noticed that she had been clinging to a school uniform this whole time. It was a sickeningly infantile thing, neatly folded and wrapped in a see through plastic bag. Attached was a small postcard adorned with very fancy calligraphy.

‘Please put this on. - S’.

Underneath this was some crude handwriting, written in a purple glitter gel pen.

‘or not! sup to you!’ - T’


More calligraphy, the ink still wet.

‘It is in your best interest (and mine) if you wear this. -S'

And again, more chicken scratch.

‘but that’s not something a delinquent would do! >:) - T'

Wren couldn’t help but to snicker. At least her captors had some amount of personality. Not that this would bestill any amount of unyielding wrath that Wren was going to deliver on those two clowns. Someone was going to get hit very hard at the end of all this, no amount of personality was going to stop that.

At least one of these jackasses knows me too well Wren thought to herself, as she slammed her uniform into a nearby trashcan, delinquent that she was. The hunter picked a direction and started walking, the place that she found herself was labyrinthian in layout, winding hallways with no defining features and no one to talk too. It took a solid ten minutes of aimless meandering before Wren finally found another soul in this wretched maze. A tiny girl, couldn't have been older than six, meekly thumbing through some school books out of an open locker, she was covered with white feathers and had the eyes of an owl.

Wren cleared her throat loudly to get her attention, the young student ignored her, visually shrinking in discomfort. “Hey.” Wren spoke up. The little bird girl turned away from the hunter sharply and started to speedily walk away. “Hey, I need your help!” The student stopped and turned back slowly, fear in her wide eyes.

“It’s against the rules to talk in the halls.”


“What?”

“It- It’s against the rules to talk and loiter in the halls.” The girl looked around nervously. Wren couldn’t help but frown, it broke her heart to see someone so young so visibly anxious and afraid. She dropped down to her eye level and put on her best ‘I’m someone you can trust!’ face on. “And whose rule is that, then?” The owl girl’s grip tightened onto her books, her gaze affixed to the floor. “The disciplinary department.” Wren glanced around the completely empty halls around her. “Well, I don’t see any ‘disciplinary department’ around here, so maybe you can bend the rules for me?”

The owl girl looked around conflicted. “I can’t help...you don’t need my help. Aren't you a student too?” Wren scoffed a little “Ha, you flatter me, but I’m a little old for a place like this.”

“A girl is made a proper lady not through age but by strict tutelage and proper discipline.”

A voice boomed down from the corridor, followed by light footsteps. In the distance a human teenage girl, wearing a distinct sash over her uniform came into view. “Some girls take much longer to learn this than others. But I’m sure you’re more than aware of that, aren't you?” The owl girl hid behind her books, quivering in fear. Wren rose up to stare down the new student, stoic and unwavering.

“Connie! You know the rules. No talking in the halls.” The student flicked out an electronic device, litle holograms danced in front of her face. “That’s a Demeritt to your record.” Connie bowed down, her face flush with fear. “No! I’m so sorry Prefect Yana! It won’t happen again I’m so sorry!” Yana glanced up from her device coldly, she started down the owl girl for what felt like an eternity, before finally sighing heavily. “You get a verbal warning, this time. Now go to your class, Connie.” Connie continued to bow “Oh thank you Miss! Thank you!” She then darted off, flying up through the corridor, leaving a trail of puffy white feathers.

“Now you. Oh man, where do I even begin?” Yana began to close the gap between her and Wren, flicking a stray wisp of white hair from her face as she went. ”Loitering in the halls is one Demerit, lack of school uniform is fifteen Demerits, discussion of breaking the rules is seven Demerits and smoking contraband is twenty.” The prefect looked up from her device smugly, “It takes twenty-five to net you a trip down to Madam Gibarti’s office, and you just got forty-three in the space ten seconds, I do believe that’s a new record.”

Yana flashed a condescending smile towards the hunter, Wren smiled back, nonplussed by anything this girl had to say. “You can take those Demerits...” And shove them up your AAAAAAAASSSSSSSS “And put them on your own record, prefect. As a member of the faculty I will not abide such disrespect in my school.” Yana scoffed, “Yeah, okay, that one’s new. First of all you get another six Demerits for lying to a prefect. Second, I know every teacher in this school and you are not one of them.”

Wren puffed on her pipe and played with a feather in her hand. “That’s because I’m a substitute, bright eyes.” She blew smoke right into the student's face, who angrily wafted it away. “Oh yeah?” Yana retorted, not to be outdone by this rule breaker, she had one more card up her sleeve. “Then why do you have a student ID?”

Uggggghhhh. Why have you got to make this difficult for me?
Whatever. Work with it. Roll with it.


“ID number 910034. Student Wren…”
Yana trailed off in confusion, presumably at the lack of a surname on this student's record. Wren took this moment to offer her explanation. “As a temporary member of the faculty there is little point in registering me into the teachers record. Naturally I can’t go through Mademoiselle Primfel's without being on any system at all so they elected to simply register me into the student identification system to expedite the process.” The prefect looked dumbfounded at Wren, who showed no signs of stress and anxiety at all (Yesterweed working its wonders). “Look, if you are still suspicious, simply check on your little Kindle for classes in need of a substitution.”

Yana squinted at the tall smoking woman before reluctantly going to her ‘kindle’ to check if everything was legit. A keen eye would of noticed Wren tensing up, lowering her body and holding her breath. She mentally prepared herself for the worst case scenario, I’m a seriously prepared to punch this child in the face if everything goes tits up? The tension was palpable.

Yana’s eyes widened and a bead of sweat slowly trickled down the side of her head. Sure enough, there was one class in need of a substitute. Her demeanor and body language changed on a dime as she realised her ‘mistake’. “I’m...so sorry miss, I apologise for my suspicion.” Wren smiled calmly, completely unfazed by the students allegations. Of course on the inside she was flipping the fuck out holy Christ I cannot believe this worked. “That’s alright prefect, how about you show me to my class and we can just chalk this up to a simple misunderstanding.”

“Certainly miss! You’re in room 102b teaching Calculus, follow me.” Yana turned sharply, her face flush with embarrassment. Wren followed lackadaisically, a trail of smoke and the scent of liquorice wafting behind her.
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RE: The Opulent Quarrel - Round One: Mademoiselle Primfel's - by Lankie - 01-03-2016, 04:15 PM