A Sudden Entrance [open]

Grey bristled, turning slowly to face the other boy.  "Did you just..." He glanced at Keo, her wincing expression being the only confirmation he needed.  He chuckled deeply, dark eyes suddenly filled with eager intensity.  "You just threatened to put me in a box.  You called me Mr. Kitty.  You, asshole, just picked yourself a fight."

---

"Oh, boy." Keo muttered under her breath, slowly gliding away from her brother.  "He's not going inside anytime soon, is he?  Shit, and we were doing so well, too."

Sighing in complacency, the girl discreetly wheeled over to Connor, gently taking back her things.  "I appreciate all you've done for us so far, and thanks for picking up my bags- but I think you might've gotten yourself into something a little bigger than you bargained for.  At any rate, you're gonna be waaaay too busy to look after these for the next couple minutes, so I'll just leave you to that while I go inside and pick up the papers we need for me and Grey."  Keo grinned, giving Connor a hearty slap on the back.  "Be careful out there, cutie."

Quickly, Keo rolled out of the danger zone and into the school building before her.

---

It didn't really matter that Keo was going inside.  Sure, Grey wouldn't have minded a little backup, but then again, he should've expected her to stay neutral; unlike Grey, a little smack talk had never been enough to get Keo to engage in a duel.  No, his sister had always been more concerned with actions than words.

Grey, however- well, that was a different ball game.  He understood well enough why Keo hadn't wanted him to get in a fight so soon after they'd arrived, but now Connor had it coming.  Grey wasn't a dog, who might just roll over and take shit from whoever came to give it; he was a cat, and not a nice one, either- the only bullshit he'd accept would come from people who deserved to give it to him.

Grey shook his limbs, readying himself for the fast- approaching duel.  His leg muscles bunched, tension flowing throughout his body as he crouched into a runner's position.  Suddenly, the boy sprinted forward and transformed into a cat, using the feline body's naturally stream-lined physique to launch himself six feet into the air.  Just as quickly, Grey returned to his human form and landed a roundhouse kick straight into Connor's left cheekbone, hurtling the boy backwards at least three feet before transitioning back into a cat and landing delicately back onto the ground.  Purring, the feline gave a swift flick of his ear in mockery of his opponent and licked his paw.  Damn, fighting felt good.

Connor kept a friendly smile on towards the boy, apparently his was a very feisty kitty that just need his nap. Connor was slightly shocked that Keo wasn't angry that he picked on her brother. In fact she kind of gave him a kick to fight the cat. She released him from holding the bags and walked away with a friendly goodbye. Before he knew it a screeching cat came hurling towards him. In mid-air it quickly turned back to Grey and kicked him right in the jaw. Connor was pushed back by the force of a grown boy, his jaw was in slight pain, he was just glad he didn't kick him anywhere that would actually cause damage. His green eyes pierced into the cat, as it sat purring and cleaning it's self. Boy was it disgusting, if he was in human form Grey would just be licking his hand or foot and liking it.

Connor stood back up, rubbing his jaw tenderly. "I didn't know we were going to fight with our powers. In fact I didn't tell you my power did I? But if you insist." Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out a decent sized ball of steel. He let the ball return to its original shape, his steel jo staff. See, there was logic as to why he chose this to be his weapon. It was because he was able to bend it into any weapon he wanted, whether it be sharp or dull. Connor decided to keep the staff so he wouldn't cut the cat in half and have to explain to the headmaster as to why there was a dead cat in the main office. Connor held the staff in front of him and waited for Grey to make another move, there was no way he would just charge the cat and smash it with a metal pole.

Grey's eyes gleamed as energy surged through his body.  Damn, he loved fighting as a cat.  The smaller proportions meant that even the minimal amount of energy needed to sustain his human form went a hell of a long way as a feline, making him a lot faster and lighter on his toes than even his lithe and agile cat form might suggest.

Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't still a cat; no matter how much energy he saved up, a mere ocelot would never be much of a fighter, especially in a one-on-one duel like this one.  Over the years, Grey had had to come up with numerous, somewhat creative methods of attack to make up for his animal form's lack of battle ability.

Upon seeing Connor arm himself, Grey crouched, pretending to ready himself for another frontal charge at Connor's face while he thought up a different line of approach.  As a human, that staff could break bones; as a cat, it could easily end his life.  Feline form might be fast, but he wasn't sure using it was worth the risk of death by metal.  The only way he would have a good chance was if he found a weapon for himself.

Grey grinned.  He knew just the thing.

The cat grasped his hoodie- previously forgotten in the heat of the fight- securely between his teeth.  He launched himself towards Connor, swerving at the last second and darting into a nearby tree.  From there, he was back into human form, reaching into his hoodie pocket for the one thing he'd kept from his past life in the cult: an ivory blowpipe, given to him by his father on his seventh birthday.  Each dart that came with the blowpipe had a different property: white meant normal, and therefore least effective; red had a hooked point, which made it difficult to remove from the skin; green made one nauseous and dizzy; blue had metal tips instead of ivory ones; and black, his personal favorite, had been dipped in a poison deadly enough to kill even an elephant.

Of course, it wasn't Grey's intention to kill Connor.  Sure, an insult was an insult, but there was still no need to use the black darts, even now.  The green darts, though- Grey smirked- surely Connor wouldn't hold it against him if he used those.

Reaching back into his pocket, Grey sought out a green dart with his fingers, other hand poised to load it into his blowpipe.  Finding one, Grey removed it and-

Fuck.  Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.  Where the hell were all of his darts?!

A small note fluttered out of his pocket.  Grey snatched it in his hand; he could pretty much guess what it said and who had put it there, but a tiny sliver of hope still caused him to take a peek.

"Dear Broski (Poio, that's you),

I hope you don't mind (jk you are totally going to mind), but I decided it would be for the best if I relieved you of your darts- at least for the first couple days at Beata.  You know I trust you- I do, I promise- but I also know that everybody makes mistakes, and I'm worried about what might happen if you accidentally use a black dart when you thought you were using something else.  With you, this is especially necessary, because- and I know how much you hate my reminding you of this- you.  Are.  Fucking.  Colorblind.  Stop pretending you're not; I know you think colorblindness is a dog thing, but your denial isn't going to do anybody any good. Someday you are seriously going to kill something you didn't mean to kill, and I'd rather it not be a student at Beata Academy.  Besides, you promised me you wouldn't get into any fights within the first week, so you won't be needing your darts anyway,right? Uh huh, didn't think so.  Luv ya!

Yo sistah,
Keo"

Hahaha, Grey was screwed.

Now that Grey was in human form he would be easier to follow for Connor. Instead of making his move right away he watched Grey jump around and grab his hoodie. Connor strained his eyes to see what the cat pulled out, if he was correct it was a blow dart. A look of shock fell over Grey which gave Connor the confirmation that cat-boy had no darts on him. A smile crept over his face as his staff started to split up and form small metal darts. "Would you like some of these?" Connor brought one of the darts to his hand and held it up to make sure Grey could see what he was holding. "Here don't worry, I can bring them to you." Five of the darts shot up into the air and floated around Connor. They all sped towards Grey, he needed pay back for the kick in the jaw.

Grey's eyes lit up to see Connor make darts out of his staff.  Ok, yes, they were basically just blue darts without the blue, and ok, yes, Connor had complete control over them at this point-  but if Grey managed to grab even one of them...  Well, that would be that, wouldn't it?

As the darts sped towards him, Grey quickly returned to cat form in order to evade Connor's attack.  Four of the five darts flew past the tree, making  a wide turn before returning to Connor's hand, but the last of them found itself embedded within the tree's wooden trunk, unable to dislodge itself without assistance.

Plucking the dart from its prison, Grey quickly slid the metal shaft into his blowpipe.  Even if Connor wanted to control the dart, he couldn't now- Grey's father, masterful as he was in the dark arts, had imbued this particular weapon with the ability to ward any sort of power from affecting the darts that had been loaded into it.  The magic was so potent, in fact, that the spell didn't fade until after the dart had become dislodged from the blowpipe for approximately six seconds; this would be more than enough time for Grey to kick some ass.

Well, Grey hoped anyway- it all relied on whether his father's so-called magic actually worked.  Grey had never actually had an opportunity to try out the blowpipe's properties before, so at this point all he could do was use it and hope to hell that things would go the way his father had said they would ten years ago.

Catapulting himself from the tree, Grey began zig- zagging around Connor.  Sometimes he was a cat, sometimes he was a human; at this point the boy was simply relying on his instincts to tell him where to go.  He'd need to be human, of course, to shoot the dart- a cat's mouth wouldn't allow the blowpipe to function properly and Grey would need complete control to make a good shot.

What he was aiming for was the boy's windpipe.  His adoptive mum had been a doctor, and as a result, had studied a fair amount about acupuncture.  Grey had been interested, so he'd asked Mum to teach him; if he managed to hit Connor's windpipe just right, the boy would lose consciousness until the dart was removed and Grey would win the fight.

Getting such a clear shot would take time, however- for now the only thing he could do was dodge as many darts as he could and wait for an opportunity to strike Connor down.

Connor sighed as he watched Grey pick the dart from the tree. He obviously took the bait and all he had to do now what wait for the perfect moment. He can bend any metal any time, nothing can restrict him. Connor threw a few more darts at Grey just for fun, causing Grey to run around with the darts right behind him. If he put his mind to it he could have sped the darts up and easily prick Grey in the back, but the cat still thought he had superiority, even though he was just an initiate that has barely practiced with his power.

Once grey transformed back to human and had the dart in hand Connor had it separate in to a ton of tiny balls, they flew up into the air and came flying down to pin Grey to the ground. Connor walked over to Grey who was furious at the turn of events. His grin quickly faded as he slammed his staff into Grey's gut hard enough to leave a bruise to remember. Sure it was low, but the cat needed to know where he stood. He was still new and had no authority at the school yet. Connor released the balls and placed them back on his staff, which grew long with the sudden increase of metal.

Pain raced through Grey's system as the bo staff struck into his abdomen, knocking the breath from his lungs.  Okay, he had not been expecting that; perhaps he'd been putting a little too much faith in his father's reassurances.  It was a good blow, too, hitting right beneath the ribcage where he was most sensitive.  Perhaps Connor was a bit more skilled with that thing than Grey had originally thought.

   That didn't, of course, mean Grey would just lie down and take this turn of events.  No, now he was angry, far angrier than he was before.  Hitting the cheekbone in the beginning had been a calculated move; that particular part of the face wouldn't bruise easily, even when struck with a fair amount of force.  Actually, if anything, it would only shatter- but the cat had made sure not to apply enough pressure behind his kick to make that happen.  Grey hadn't started this fight looking to leave a mark.

   But the abdomen- well, that was a different story.  Unlike Grey's attack, Connor's blow was sure leave a lasting impression, and considering the fact that Grey usually found himself shirtless far more often than he would like, such a bruise would undoubtedly be noticed by anybody who saw him.

   So, okay.  The game had changed.  Now he supposed he had better hurt to mar.

   "Sorry, Keo," Grey muttered under his breath.  "Pretty Boy might not look so pretty after I'm done giving him a facelift."

   Before the other boy could react, Grey was swinging his legs under Connor's, knocking him to the ground.  The cat- boy rolled on top of his opponent, knocking the staff several feet away in hopes of granting himself a little time; he had no idea how fast Connor could make metal move, but even half a second was better than no time at all.

  "I hope you're not allergic to cats, asshole," Grey snarled, pinning Connor's hands and feet to the ground. "Or you might have to go to more than just the nurse's office."  Then, he was a cat; his hind claws sank into his opponent's shirt to prevent him from moving, and his front paws rose into the air, poised to carve two long claw marks into Connor's perfect little face.

The push against his legs sent him flying backwards onto the floor, the cat did have some skills. Connor kept control of his staff which was only separated from him by a couple feet. 'I'm actually not allergic to cats...' A small smile appeared on his lips as the staff came flying back throwing the cat off of him, he quickly jumped up ready for another cat-attack. Grey laid limp on the ground after the sudden impact, Connor stepped on the cats tail causing it to yowl in pain and return to human form. Connor pushed the staff into Grey's stomach and snarled at his opponent, "Look, currently you don't have any place at this school. So if you want to act all big and mighty and have respect you better stop fighting with your fellow school mates." He shoved his staff harder into Grey and sent him flying back. 'Cats are supposed to land on their feet right?'

At first, Grey was a bit confused, a little disoriented.  He hadn’t expected Connor to catch his tail with his foot, nor had he been expecting the subsequent blow to the stomach from Connor’s staff.  Now, seeing Connor’s strange expression of horror and regret, Grey wasn’t sure what to expect; all he knew for sure was that it certainly wasn’t anything good.

Rubbing his aching neck, the back of which had been slammed into something from the force of Connor’s thrust, Grey turned hazily to survey his surroundings.  There was the arch of the building and two statues to his left; to his right stood more of the same.  Above him was the sky, a muted gray- blue as always, and below- Grey’s heart skipped a beat.

Slowly, not daring to believe it, the boy stood on shaky legs, brushing small bits of rubble from the seat of his jeans.  His back, still bare, was covered in various cuts and bruises that had been sustained from his fall, but as Grey turned around to survey the damage his foolish fight had caused, he couldn’t help but conclude that his current injuries would be the least of his worries once Keo came out and saw what he had done.

A single statue lay in pieces on the ground, broken into three by the weight of Grey’s body.  Golden wings, mottled and bent, had been completely severed from what had once been the back of an angel, and even the wall of the school building had suffered a couple scuffs. Removing his foot from where it had landed atop the statue’s plaque, Grey slowly read the name of the now- desecrated monument with growing trepidation.

Arai Fidelta
Born April 30, 1994
Died June, 2024

---

---

"Enrollment papers for Keo Van Schwantz and Grey Blacker, please, ma'am," Keo requested, leaning slightly into the counter as she addressed the woman at the front desk.  After a few moments of shuffling, the papers were found; the young girl gave a quick smile of thanks before settling down in one of the office chairs that lined the room.

Although Keo was a bit disappointed that Grey hadn't even managed to keep his promise of peace for a full day, she supposed she could be a bit understanding of his need to reinstate his pride.  Connor's comment about the prison box had been fairly uncalled for, considering the fact that the only thing Grey had done was call the kid a loser, but sometimes Keo wished the cat was able to exercise a little more self control when it came to fighting.  The insult had been low, sure, but it was something Grey could have easily walked away from without making any trouble for anyone else.

Now Keo was stuck in here.  She didn't exactly mind, of course- as long as she had a pencil and paper she'd even spend a day in Hell- but an inconvenience was still an inconvenience, and Keo would have much rather drawn in the seclusion of her dorm room than out here in the office hallway.  Besides, she was running low on paper, and from the annoyed expression on the office lady's face, Keo didn't think the woman would be willing to spare any of her own from the back room.

Shrugging, Keo shuffled around in her backpack for a pencil and a piece of paper.  Unlike most artists, the girl couldn't say she had much of a sketchbook; most of her best sketches had been scribed onto cheap printer paper, and Keo saw no reason to try for anything different.  Though she hated to think of an art medium so nonchalantly, paper was paper.  She didn't have the time or the money to waste precious resources of expensive parchments she didn't need.  Besides, at the moment she didn't have anything else to work with, and some paper was always better than none at all.

With a flick of her pencil, Keo began.  Grey often told his sister that she was a different person when she was drawing, and Keo supposed that could be true.  The girl never focused on anything as intently as she focused on her artwork, and she always felt so much calmer with a pencil in her hand.  Most of the time Keo didn't even know what she was drawing until it was almost finished; most of her pieces were as heavily influenced by her creative imagination as they were by reality.

This time, however, was a little different.  The statue of her mother outside the office doors had already provided Keo with enough inspiration to last a lifetime, and the girl was dead- set on recreating it on paper so she'd never be without her mom again.  Slender frame, bright eyes, long, billowing hair- every detail had been imprinted into Keo's memory forever, and she was determined to keep it that way.  No doubt she'd be visiting the monument countless more times during her stay at Beata Academy, if only to ensure it wasn't being neglected; she loved her mother, after all, and anything that held the woman's image must be kept in absolutely perfect condition.

Several minutes passed in seclusive silence.  What had started out as a quick sketch was quickly evolving into somewhat of a masterpiece as Keo began to add streaks of color and hints of background; after almost every stroke, the girl was holding her work up to the light in search for undetected errors.  After what seemed like an eternity, she was finally satisfied.  Signing her name in looping handwriting at the bottom of the page, Keo tucked her pencil behind her ear and started for the door.

Surely the boys had fought long enough by now.

---

Grey turned towards the sound of papers and bags hitting the floor for the second time that day, his heart falling into his stomach.  There were certain signs that suggested that his sister had been drawing inside while she waited for the boys to finish their match: a pencil at her ear; a couple stray bits of paper sticking out from within her open backpack.  She'd exchanged her roller blades for a more practical pair of tennis shoes.

Keo certainly wasn't drawing now, however; all the girl could do was stand shell- shocked silence as she stared at the rubble scattered about at Grey's feet.  Stooping, she picked up a piece of her mother's hand that had landed near her feet; Keo stared at it for a long time, as if unable to comprehend its existence.

"Shit,"  Grey cursed.  He'd come here to protect his sister, not hurt her.  "This is my fault, isn't it?"

The cat started towards Keo, hoping to apologize.  He reached out a hand in an attempt to comfort her.  "Keo, I'm so sorry- it was an accide-"

Blinking out of her reverie, Keo ripped two paper bracelets from her wrist, revealing a tightened fist that was heavily reinforced with plastic and wood.  Drawing it back, the girl punched her brother clear across the face, knocking him to the floor.  She glared at him, expression filled passionate indignation.  "Accident my ass," She snarled, gesturing angrily at what had once been her mother's monument.  Her voice rose with every word.  "This is what happens when you fight, Grey! Things. Get.  Broken.  Why can't you exercise some fucking self control every once in a while?  Is it that hard just to walk away before something gets hurt?  Maybe you could, I don't know, grow a fucking pair of balls and stop fighting all of your problems away?  You're a fucking cat, Grey.  You aren't even a feral cat- you're a domestic, short-haired, Scottish Fold cat with a cream body, one white sock, and a couple of brown spots.  You look like a fucking pet, and yet you're wasting your transitions on fighting like you'll actually win.  That's how you plan to waste your life away?  Really?  Using up your daily transformations in a feeble attempt to be something you're not?  You probably don't even have any transformations left, do you?"

Grey didn't answer, holding his nose to stop it from bleeding.

"Do you?" Keo repeated, refusing to back down.

"I've got one left," Grey finally admonished, staring at the ground.

Keo laughed bitterly when she spoke again, her voice was full of sarcasm.  "Oh, one.  How great!  Sorry, my bad- guess the fight wasn't that bad after all, huh?  I mean, it's not like you started out the day with fucking twenty-five.  Well, since you've got one left, you might as well use it- I'll be looking forward to not having to listen to your fucking bullshit for a week."

After a moment of tense silence as Grey struggled to decide whether his sister was being serious, the boy finally relented.  "I'll just... go wait by the luggage," He mumbled, transforming into a cat once more and slinking away to safety.

Still not entirely satisfied, Keo turned her fury on Connor.  "And you," she seethed. "What the fuck is wrong with you?  What, you think that having a nice-looking piece of meat attached to your backside is a free pass to be an asshole?  My brother called you a loser, and you think a reasonable response would be to lose your fucking shit?"  She pressed a finger into Connor's chest.  "Not to mention," the girl continued, "You don't have the right to 'put my brother in his place' if you're the motherfucker who coaxed him out of it.  Sure, Grey's a little cross, sometimes, and he starts a lot of the fights he gets into, but this time he was civil.  It was you who threatened him when you said you would force him into a box.  Of course he's gonna want to fight you; after an insult like that, he'd probably challenge you to a duel even if he was weak and dying."

Connor said nothing, opting only to stand there and look sorry in hopes that that would be enough to quell Keo's rage.  The girl clenched her fist again, clearly tempted to deliver another punch- but at the last minute she thought better of it and relaxed her hand with a huff.  "You're lucky you're so fucking pretty, you bastard,"  She growled, moving instead to pick up the pieces of rubble that had once been her mother.  "Now help me gather these up so I can fix this."

After the two had finally amassed the broken statue into a pile, Keo retrieved the drawing of her mother she had completed only moments before.  She stared at it for a moment, unwilling to part with something she had put so much effort into, but eventually returned to the desecrated monument with her art in tow.  Wordlessly, the girl placed the paper onto the jumble of rubble, hands still keeping careful hold of either side of the drawing.  As Keo pushed her paper downwards, the surface of her drawing glowed; slowly, pieces of rubble passed through it, reassembling in accordance to what she had drawn.  Finally, after many seconds of tense concentration, every block of rubble, including the mottled golden wings, had passed through the artwork; her mother's statue stood once again, seeming almost as if it had never been broken.

Keo tucked the corners of her drawing underneath the statue.  "I can't remove it,"  She explained curtly as she worked, "The further a creation is from the paper it originated from, the weaker it gets.  Keeping the drawing here will ensure that the broken pieces won't fall apart unless something crashes into it again."

Finally, the girl stood and brushed herself off.  Going over to her pile of bags, she picked them up one by one; Grey, now trapped in cat form for the remainder of the week, leaped onto his sister's shoulder and meowed.  "Yeah, yeah, we'll go to the dorms now," Keo muttered.  "I'm still mad at you though, so don't come crying to me if they won't give you your own room because you look like a cat."

Wordlessly, the three students trudged their way to the initiate dorms; they may have thought themselves tired before, but only now could they truly consider themselves to be exhausted.

End of topic.