January Registration

(OOC: All you guys need to do is walk in the door and wait to be assigned classes and dorm rooms. Don't create NPCs, especially ones that will process you. Just post who you are, what you look like, and wait in line for the next available registrar person thingy, I.E., me) January

There was a reason that cars had trunks--so you didn't have to carry everything around with you. Sellar, with nothing but the clothes on his back, sauntered into the registration office. Given that he wasn’t trying to be stealthy, his black oxfords tapped an off-beat tune on the floor, a dull thud on the bare wood or stone and a muted thump on the carpet. It wasn’t too long after he’d first pulled up to the main door of the keep, and he’d yet to find the restroom, so his pitch-dark hair was still a tousled mess from the wind and he still needed to relieve himself. Thankfully, he wasn’t quite to the point where every step seemed to squeeze his bladder so that it felt like bursting. Had the drive been a half hour longer though, he might have been considering using the potted plant cowering in the corner of the office.

“Hey, anyone here?” called out the man to what seemed to be an empty room. His voice, a subdued tenor, radiated deeper into the office like the warmth of sunlight spreading across the landscape at dawn. While he waited for an answer, he took in his surroundings. An idle hand smoothed across the untucked bottom of his shirt that peeked out from beneath his navy sportscoat like a white mat around a painting of the ocean. His hand slid across the fabric and had as much success as a ship trying to iron out waves with its wake.

To the man's truthful dismay, there was no one in the office. When the man would walk in to see if anyone was there, there would be a note standing up, sitting on the counter, along with a few clipboards. The first one was a pile of clipboards of general usage for sign ins, about seven or eight in total, with pens attached to each clip board. Right next to it was the sign that says "Please fill out applications to the left, and sign in for room to the right. Keys will be delivered to the dorm room after 7 pm." To right right was a clipboard with a sign in sheet for whichever room the person needed or desired. The back of the office, strangely enough, was unoccupied. Everything was exposed, possibly ripe for the taking. Nevertheless, there was another sign to the right of the clipboards that said "Warning, do not cross this line or suffer an disastrous death." If anyone knew Riley well, the whole place was booby trapped with sawed off shotguns, claymores, and anti-personnel mines. If anyone were to cross the line, at first, there would be a warning buzzard that would go off. If a person did not step back into the waiting area of the room, then they would find out the more dangerous results of not heeding proper warnings.

Regardless, Riley was out of the office today!

An empty registration office hardly seemed acceptable to Sellar as he found the erect note on the counter. The instructions were simple, but even so, he would have expected to be told them, not read them. Giving a soft scoff, the sound seeded with annoyance, Sellar fetched one of the clipboards from the stack. His deft fingers wrestled the pen free from its niche before scraping its across the page with several swishes, each leaving a drying trail of ink in its wake. Even as he scribbled the information required to fill in the blanks on the form, Sellar kept his irritation with the missing administrator on the back burner.

In a few minutes, Sellar had finished the paperwork and set his clipboard, the pen returned to its place, beside the stack from which he’d taken it originally—he didn’t want it to be confused with the blank forms and lost. Afterwards, he perused the clipboard listing the dorm rooms. Without giving it much thought, he simply signed in for the next teacher’s suite.

Giving an annoyed grunt, Sellar turned and exited the registration office. Without even talking to a member of the administration, he’d completed the registration process—or at least his part of it.

[Exit]

"Now are you sure you want to do this by yourself?" Inquired a female voice from a expensive looking car with darkened windows. The car had pulled up to the main administrative building of the school and was still running as two people in the back seat were conversing with one another.

"Yes, I'm sure I want to do this myself." A male voice replied in a frustrated voice. They had been having this argument for a month now which had delayed the registration process that far. The people who took care of him after the Zan-High School incident in Japan were now a bit over protective of him and his unique 'abilities' which were described during his application as a 'ticking time bomb ready to go off'.

This had originally put the administration in a dire straight and they held concerns about James' abilities with his 'care takers' to ensure the safety of the school population. Even in a school of 'extraordinary special people' James' case seemed unique.

"Alright, just remember, if you need any help call and we'll be here." The female voice responded, this time sounding more professional than maternal as the car-door opened.

"Sure whatever you say 'White Rabbit'. By the way, you've changed a bit from the last time we met. Is it that girl?" James retorted with a smirk. The only response he got was the car door slamming and he was on his own again... In a way it was quite empowering.

"Let's see..." James muttered to himself as he removed a small piece of paper from his coat pocket and looked through it. Various instructions were scribbled on it from the simple, how to get to the office to what classes his 'caretakers' recommended for his strengths to the more nefarious - how to use his abilities in 'surprising' ways.

"Blah, so typical" James frowned as he slipped the sheet of paper into his pocket. He had walked away from fighting at his last school and didn't intend to repeat the incidents here. Though, things did seem to follow him so he'd need to be careful.

---

After strolling along the hallways, not particularly going toward the office but merely in the general direction that it was in, the male finally made it to the admissions office. Looking around, it didn't seem like anyone was here yet. Upon closer inspection however it seemed like someone had just left. There were two piles of forms - well one pile of forms and a single lonely sheet of paper that was filled out.

The black haired male in the trench coat looked over the filled out administration form and then looked back at the pile of blank papers. It was only then that he saw the instructions for the filling out of the paper but failed to see the warning about crossing the line.

"Well... when in Rome." James muttered again and grabbed a sheet of paper as well as a pen and began to write. basic information was easy enough but for some things he actually went back and referenced that accursed paper in his pocket.

"I'm definitely giving these people a 1 out of 5 stars for the friendliness of staff." James added on in speech as he placed his completed form atop the form that was filled out before he arrived.

Room registration:
Sellar - N on the male wing.
Synn - O on the male wing.

Sometime after leaving the admissions office the young man was strolling around campus when he suddenly received a text-message.

[ xxx - xxx - xxxx : Octane]
Hey, you're in room O in the male dorm. Have fun in school, try to blow some shit up, relax and have some fun k? - Octane

Looking at the text message, he wondered how that girl knew what his dorm room assignment was. Just as he was about to reply with his thoughts to the text message, he received another text message from the same number.

[ xxx - xxx - xxxx : Octane]
Oh and if you're wondering how I know wht your room is. The school has a Blackboard online system. I swear you and technology.

Quite frankly, he was amazed by how quickly she knew about this. Then again, he spent most of his childhood in japan and the kind of things he did on his cell phone were no less wondrous. Still, who had ever heard of a mystical school for werewolves, vampires and gifted humans having standard university technology. It was very weird to him. Still, he had to guess that all institutions of instruction needed this standardized curriculum and technology to be recognized by international education bodies....

"Blah, why am I thinking about all this" James thought to himself and began to try to find this 'Dorm O' that he was supposed to be in.

[Topic Exited]