"And the war between Hunters and witches ended in..." Mandy Davis trailed off, waiting for someone to supply the answer. Many of them expertly avoided her gaze, and she huffed. "Scott?" She prompted the teenager.
He glanced up from his paper at Mandy and then dropped his gaze down at his doodles. The answer wouldn't be found there, but it didn't stop him from searching. He heard a cough beside him, a muffled number hidden in the sound. "Seventeen-oh-eight," he answered, smiling.
"Very good," there was a pause, "Miss Crow." Miranda blushed and ducked her head, and Scott just shrugged. Remembering facts wasn't really his focus. "If you don't know the answer, own up to that, Mr. Samuels. Miss Crow; it is kind of you to assist your comrade, but save that for field work and let others sink or swim on their own here." Both pupils nodded, and Mandy glanced at her watch. "Alright, I've tortured you lot long enough. Finish getting ready for school. We leave in thirty."
It is 7:45 am in a quiet town in Rochester, New York. Within the city, there is a quiet suburb, Brighton. With a population of 36,753, Brighton is known for good schools, is a good area for families, and a pretty decent crime rating (B+ on crime with an overall A+ Niche grade). In one particular shopping center, there is an unassuming gym. It advertises decent rates, open 24-hours, and top-rated qualified personal trainers. The gym has the corner spot in the shopping center, so at first glance, it doesn't appear to be incredibly spacious. However, once inside, one can see that the building expands further back. The equipment is all state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line, and very well maintained. There's the open gym, a boxing center, and a multi-functional room that hosts the variety of exercise classes taught there. That particular room is reserved from 6:45-7:45 am and 6-9 pm Monday through Saturday. As the clock hits 7:45, the door opens a group of high schoolers spills from the room, splitting up between the boy's and girl's locker room followed by a slightly amused looking trainer.
At precisely 8:15 am, Mandy has always been punctual, the children are ushered from the gym into a large van (it's more of a small, private bus than it is a van). They're dropped off at school at approximately 8:45 am, giving them 15 minutes before the first bell rings. Calvin Knight sits at the back of the bus. He watches the scenery pass as the bus drives. Ethan dropped into the seat next to him, immediately going into a tirade of how useless history, as a normal and Hunter subject, was entirely useless. "If we didn't learn about our History," Calvin pointed out, "Then we wouldn't know anything about witches or other magical creatures."
"So?"
"So," Calvin sighed, "How would you fight something if you don't know anything about it?"
"Pure strength, baby," Ethan flexed his, admittedly, considerable muscles.
Sitting two rows in front of them, Joy Samuels snorts at the conversation between the two boys. "Puh-lease," she mutters to no one in particular. She, unlike Ethan, did not appear to have the strength that she possessed. Standing at 4 foot and 9 inches, Joy has a thin frame, her muscles more toned than they are bulky. Her hair is pulled up into two pigtail buns with feathers poking out of both sides. She's dressed in a pair of dark-wash jeans with a bright blue blouse.
Miranda Crow, scribe-in-training and the very definition of 'mousy,' sits criss-cross on the seat across from Joy with a notebook balanced on her knee, the end of her pen in her mouth as she chewed nervously on the cap. She giggled, though, at Joy's under the breath comment before resuming the pen chewing. She wore a pair of jeans and an oversized, black sweater; her knit beanie was pulled low just above the eyes, while her hair hung loose.
Toward the front of the van Joy's brother, Scott, leaned against a window taking a nap under his letterman jacket, never minding the constant banging of his head on the window as the van bumped and shook.
Much of the bus was the same; some of the teenagers were being teenagers; goofing off, roughhousing, or just chatting about school or killing magical beasts, all standard teenage stuff. Others, like Scott, deemed it too early to be socializing and stared off into space or dozed during the short ride.
As the van pulled into the school parking lot, the students scrambled to exit the vehicle. As individuals, they don't stand out much. As a group, however, they're all a little too graceful, a little too athletic. The image of there being something more about this group of kids is only there for a second, and then it's gone, and there's something to divert the attention of ordinary folk who are always more than happy to explain away oddities that don't fit into their understanding of the world.
While the Hunter children are being dropped off at school, Karen Samuels was at the beginning of what was starting to look like a long day of work. The day had started peacefully enough when she'd first arrived, however not five minutes in and they'd received a call of a body found. The detective and her partner headed out to Persimmon Park to the crime scene. The whole thing had many officers and the M.E. completely baffled; what could exsanguinate a person without cutting the person open? "Think we're dealing with a vampire?" Karen's partner joked.
She forced a laugh and didn't bother to tell the poor man that he was probably very right. There would have to be an emergency meeting that evening.
He glanced up from his paper at Mandy and then dropped his gaze down at his doodles. The answer wouldn't be found there, but it didn't stop him from searching. He heard a cough beside him, a muffled number hidden in the sound. "Seventeen-oh-eight," he answered, smiling.
"Very good," there was a pause, "Miss Crow." Miranda blushed and ducked her head, and Scott just shrugged. Remembering facts wasn't really his focus. "If you don't know the answer, own up to that, Mr. Samuels. Miss Crow; it is kind of you to assist your comrade, but save that for field work and let others sink or swim on their own here." Both pupils nodded, and Mandy glanced at her watch. "Alright, I've tortured you lot long enough. Finish getting ready for school. We leave in thirty."
It is 7:45 am in a quiet town in Rochester, New York. Within the city, there is a quiet suburb, Brighton. With a population of 36,753, Brighton is known for good schools, is a good area for families, and a pretty decent crime rating (B+ on crime with an overall A+ Niche grade). In one particular shopping center, there is an unassuming gym. It advertises decent rates, open 24-hours, and top-rated qualified personal trainers. The gym has the corner spot in the shopping center, so at first glance, it doesn't appear to be incredibly spacious. However, once inside, one can see that the building expands further back. The equipment is all state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line, and very well maintained. There's the open gym, a boxing center, and a multi-functional room that hosts the variety of exercise classes taught there. That particular room is reserved from 6:45-7:45 am and 6-9 pm Monday through Saturday. As the clock hits 7:45, the door opens a group of high schoolers spills from the room, splitting up between the boy's and girl's locker room followed by a slightly amused looking trainer.
At precisely 8:15 am, Mandy has always been punctual, the children are ushered from the gym into a large van (it's more of a small, private bus than it is a van). They're dropped off at school at approximately 8:45 am, giving them 15 minutes before the first bell rings. Calvin Knight sits at the back of the bus. He watches the scenery pass as the bus drives. Ethan dropped into the seat next to him, immediately going into a tirade of how useless history, as a normal and Hunter subject, was entirely useless. "If we didn't learn about our History," Calvin pointed out, "Then we wouldn't know anything about witches or other magical creatures."
"So?"
"So," Calvin sighed, "How would you fight something if you don't know anything about it?"
"Pure strength, baby," Ethan flexed his, admittedly, considerable muscles.
Sitting two rows in front of them, Joy Samuels snorts at the conversation between the two boys. "Puh-lease," she mutters to no one in particular. She, unlike Ethan, did not appear to have the strength that she possessed. Standing at 4 foot and 9 inches, Joy has a thin frame, her muscles more toned than they are bulky. Her hair is pulled up into two pigtail buns with feathers poking out of both sides. She's dressed in a pair of dark-wash jeans with a bright blue blouse.
Miranda Crow, scribe-in-training and the very definition of 'mousy,' sits criss-cross on the seat across from Joy with a notebook balanced on her knee, the end of her pen in her mouth as she chewed nervously on the cap. She giggled, though, at Joy's under the breath comment before resuming the pen chewing. She wore a pair of jeans and an oversized, black sweater; her knit beanie was pulled low just above the eyes, while her hair hung loose.
Toward the front of the van Joy's brother, Scott, leaned against a window taking a nap under his letterman jacket, never minding the constant banging of his head on the window as the van bumped and shook.
Much of the bus was the same; some of the teenagers were being teenagers; goofing off, roughhousing, or just chatting about school or killing magical beasts, all standard teenage stuff. Others, like Scott, deemed it too early to be socializing and stared off into space or dozed during the short ride.
As the van pulled into the school parking lot, the students scrambled to exit the vehicle. As individuals, they don't stand out much. As a group, however, they're all a little too graceful, a little too athletic. The image of there being something more about this group of kids is only there for a second, and then it's gone, and there's something to divert the attention of ordinary folk who are always more than happy to explain away oddities that don't fit into their understanding of the world.
While the Hunter children are being dropped off at school, Karen Samuels was at the beginning of what was starting to look like a long day of work. The day had started peacefully enough when she'd first arrived, however not five minutes in and they'd received a call of a body found. The detective and her partner headed out to Persimmon Park to the crime scene. The whole thing had many officers and the M.E. completely baffled; what could exsanguinate a person without cutting the person open? "Think we're dealing with a vampire?" Karen's partner joked.
She forced a laugh and didn't bother to tell the poor man that he was probably very right. There would have to be an emergency meeting that evening.