Part 5: Wherein Mary Gets Fresh

Chapter 4: Wherein Mary Gets Fresh



"After all, it's only for a week, right?" I ask.

"A week, and no more," Damien vows, as I take his hand. "Of course, there is the matter of my making it up to you," he adds as he pulls me up.

"Yeah, about that? I think we're pretty much okay without having to do that," I tell him, but he shakes his head.

"Oh no, no, I insist!" he says. "In fact, it's the first thing I order you to accept as your senior!"

"I thought you said it's only for a week!" I protest.

He laughs. "Indeed I did- but seeing as I gave the order this week, it's legally binding!" he grins.



"All right, if you... insist," I say. As we walk to the door, I ask again, "Okay, serious time now- what should I expect for the rest of the week?"

He shrugs. "More of what happened today, mostly. We'll boss you around when we see you and make you say and do embarrassing things- and that's it," he repeats. "Like William said, anyone tells you to break the school rules or put yourself in danger, inform a teacher. If you trust your senior, or know one whom you can trust, tell them too."

"Find a teacher if I get into trouble," I nod with all mock seriousness. "Got it."

"Oh Mary," he sighs theatrically, "you wound me."

I shake my head. "No, I don't. Trust me, you'd know if I did."

He smirks, and I mentally kick myself. "I look forward to it. Hey, don't look at me like that- you left yourself wide open."

"Yeah, I know," I say with a grin, despite myself. "Stopped clock, twice a day, and all that."

His smile only grows wider at my statement. "You're saying you know what makes me tick?"

"Tick?" I reply. "William ticks. My roommates tick. You? You're Big Ben, Damien. Full of dongs"

"Oh, bra-vo, Mary! I din't know you had it in you!" he says, clapping slowly as I mentally kick myself again. Thankfully, he doesn't press the iss- argh, I did it again! "And yes, I do admit I can be a bit transparent. In any case, we'll all act silly and make fools out of you first-years for Initiation Week, and on Friday everybody hugs and makes up. Look at it this way- I made it through alive, and I'm insufferable!"

"Good point," I laugh. "So, 'Sir Damien', what are my orders for this week?"

"Hmm, let's see now..." he considers. "I would like you to study Blue Magic this week, as much as you can after Monday."

"That... was awfully specific," I say suspiciously.

"Yes, yes it it," he grins, and I sigh. Great, we're barely out of the auditorium and he's already got Plans.

I can't wait.



Well, who am I to refuse a senior's order? A little White Magic to help clear out our magical roster, and a little Rest right at the end; as I'll be savescumming for magic, poor Mary will end up with 27 Stress by the time Friday comes around, not a good thing by any means.



I gulp slightly, and take my seat in the back of the class, near the doors.

"Good morning, starshines~!" Potsdam says. "I see we have some new students here, so if the rest of the class doesn't mind, I'll repeat what I said during our first class last week, all right? Oh, don't scowl like that! You get some free time to doodle, or chat, or whatever it is young people do nowadays! As for the rest of you, now that you're seated, rest a little, relax! Keeping a calm and stable state of mind is important when using White Magic!"



"In some ways," she adds, "you could think of White Magic as a combination of both concepts; it is the tool you use to reach the spiritual realm. Ghosts, dreams, creatures from other planes, even the thoughts of those around you. With White Magic, you can communicate with things which is usually hidden." Her face grows stern as she adds, "There is one thing I must warn you about- some people have tried to use White Magic to control minds and spirits, instead of simply asking them for aid. The consequences of such have been very... final, from many points of view. Have I made myself clear?"

White Magic's a lot scarier than Black Magic, and that's not even counting the fact you're teaching it, Potsdam. Gotcha. Hoo boy, do I ever gotcha. I spend the next few hours stressing myself out a bit- well, a lot, actually, as it's spent on lessons on trying to focus one's mind, and keep it safe against intruders. I think Professor Potsdam complimented me once or twice, but I was too busy getting the oogie-boogies about having my brain receiving the old Vulcan mind molestation I space it out. Heck, I'm so stressed, I fall asleep when I hit my bed again and totally miss Ellen and Virginia. When I wake up the next morning, they had already gone for classes, and I was almost late myself for Blue Magic class.

"A few more minutes, and you would have had detention, Miss Sue," Grabiner says as I hauled myself, panting and gasping, into the class room.

"Yeah, but I wasn't late, was I?" I say through gasps.

"Not today, Miss Sue, not today," he says, with a slight grin.

I've said he was a jerk, right? 'Cos he totally is. In order to show him up, I study extra hard. Today, we're learning about how to control and enclose magical fields. It sounds complicated, but as I practice more and more, it seems quite easy, almost natural, as if I'd done this a thousand times before. In the end, I decide to show off a little- I encase a little arcane energy inside a tiny bubble of magic, and then build a larger bubble over it. It's harder than I thought it would be, but easier then what I feared. In the end, with a little mental discipline and focus, I 'pop' the smaller bubble while keeping the larger one intact- and the results are exactly as I had predicted. The sphere of energy is now emitting light! It's not much, but if the power's out, it's better than a flashlight, that's for sure!

My exultation breaks down a bit as I realize everyone is staring at me, and probably have been doing so for the past few minutes. Grabby's one of them, and is the first to break the silence. "An excellent display of shamanic magic," he sniffs, "and a good, if naive, attempt at trying to appease me for you coming in late. However, for those of us who want to live in an age where personal grooming beyond picking lice out of one's fur is considered acceptable, there are far better methods- methods that don't involve one sweating and grunting like a constipated boar. I trust you have the requisite wisdom to learn said methods? Don't worry, on the off-chance that you have more brain cells than you have teeth, it shouldn't be too hard."

...just so you know, Grabby, you're on a list. Lists. All the lists.



And here you see Mary's first spell ! You get spells if you reach the following levels in a school of magic in class*: 5, 7, 10, 15, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 80, 100, for a total of 12 spells from a school of magic. If you take more than one school, you could expand your magical repertoire even further, as some 'hidden' spells require a knowledge of two or more schools (say, Red 25, Black 25 etc.).

*By this, I mean if you reach these levels while taking classes. Some events and study sessions can increase magic levels, but you won't learn any spells from them- you need to be in class. That said, all spells you don't have are retroactively added when you reach the proper level; if you somehow reach level 99 Red Magic without learning a spell, and you take a single successful Red Magic class, raising your score to 100, you get all the spells you would have otherwise have learned.

What's worse, is that after class, I run into that big, poofy-haired pinball guy from the arcade. Turns out his name's Big Steve, and joy of joys, he's a senior. Thankfully though, all he wants is a coffee from the cafeteria- right across the Academy from Grabby's Blue Magic class. Unthankfully though, he says it in a tone that tells me a story of how he's woken up late, is still sleepy, and needs a coffee before he lays waste to the school grounds. Which is how THIS happens.



"Hello yourself," I grumble. "Sorry, I can't talk right now- Big Steve wants a coffee."

"Ah," Damien begins. "But is he your senior?"

"No, but-"

"Then by the rules of the Academy, you and I have time to talk!" Damien laughs. "And besides, it's about time Steve got penalized for sleeping late."



I sigh. "Damien, I've just been demolished by Grabiner and yelled at by Big Steve. I haven't showered at all, and-"

"Whoa, whoa!" he says, laughing. "First off, don't worry! Keep calm!" he adds. "Look, as your senior, I'm supposed to give you commands, so you can demonstrate your obedience- and making you do things you're willing to do don't exactly contribute to that. That being said, I won't make you do anything publicly embarrassing, and certainly nothing that would hurt you."



"All right," I say, "I suppose I can-"

"I want you to write me a love letter. I've always wanted a love letter," he says wistfully.

Beat.

"Is this why you cornered me before I could get Big Steve's coffee?" I ask him. "Before I could get him his hot, scalding, specially-requested-to-be-brewed-with-holy-water-just-in-case-the-heat-doesn't-work coffee?"

"Mmmaybe," he grins. "And I want it to be a really romantic love letter. One where you proclaim your undying passion, in the most flowery words, and little hearts to dot the i's and sealed with a kiss. And you can stop looking at me like that- making you do embarrassing things is the whole point of the Initiation! No, really, stop looking at me like that, it's starting to scare me. Mary? Uh, Mary? Please tell me your face is turning that shade of red because you're blushing. Uhm, purple now. Yes, that is definitely purple. Er... I think it goes well with your hair? You can breathe now, Mary. Breathe. Please? There are witnesses!" he says, pointing to the students all around us.

"Fine" I hiss.

"Excellent! Hand it to me tonight- and make sure it's juicy!" he says.

Another beat. Another heartbeat.

He gulps. "You'd probably want to get Big Steve's coffee right now."

And so that's why I'm now spending my after-class time tapping my pencil away on a piece of cardboard, all sorts of arts and crafts material around me. I flatten my hands on the desk's surface to keep from fidgeting, and sigh. Suddenly, I hear a commotion coming from the hallways- a loud yell, a sharp gasp, and the sound of things dropping.



"Yes, Lady Angela!" Ellen gasps, her bag and some of her books at her feet. As she lowers herself, though, the senior lowers herself down as well.

"You're still taller than me, freshman!" she sneers. "Lower! Lower!"

To hell with Initiation Week. I'm not going to stand around and let someone do that to Ellen. I move forward. "Hey, you can't do that to her!" I yell. "Just because you're a senior, you can't-"

"Can't what, freshie?" Angela says, turning her sneer and full height (5'11") on me. "Is this little thing your best friend? What I'm doing is perfectly within the rules, and you're breaking those rules by interfering!"

"Those rules are meant so that everyone can have a little fun and laugh about it later," I say, rephrasing Damien's words from earlier. "Not to give you an excuse to bully others!"

"We'll see about that once I-" Angela begins, when a voice interrupts from the stairwell we're arguing in front of.

"Angela, that's enough."

"Isobel!" Angela gasps. "This one's yours?"



"Tch, whatever," Angela sniffs, and huffs her way out.

"Sorry about that," Isobel says. "Dorms and classes ought to be safe, so that you can all concentrate on your schoolwork.I know I'm not your senior, but I am a senior, so if anything like this happens again, just find me- I'll be more than happy to help. That being said..." she adds, as she turns to me, "you really shouldn't have done that."

"I'm sorry- no, wait, I'm NOT sorry!" I say as firmly as I could. "I'm not going to stand by and let my friends get bullied! If the rules say I should stand by and let people rag on Ellen, then screw the rules!"

"Oh no, what you did was perfectly within the spirit of the rules," Isobel laughs. "And the spirit of any rule is what's important here. No, I'm talking about making Angela angry!"

"What?" Ellen asks. "Is that a bad thing?"

Isobel shrugs ruefully. "Imagine every stereotype you've ever heard about arrogant spoiled rich girls. Give that girl actual talent so she's got a reason to be arrogant, and you've got Angela."

"Man, I'm just racking them up here, aren't I?" I sigh. "First Grabiner, and now this Angela. Wonderful."

"I'm sorry," Ellen says.

"Don't be," I reply, smiling to reassure her. "Just because I don't like it, doesn't mean I would have done differently."

"That's very good to hear," Isobel says, grinning widely. "I can see you two getting along just fine."

"That's right!" I say, seizing Ellen by the waist. "Mary Sue and Ellen... Ellen..."

"Middleton," Ellen volunteers.

"Yeah, Mary Sue and Ellen Middleton against the world!" I exclaim, and Isobel laughs.

"Well then, I suppose I'll leave you two to it then," she says, and waves us goodbye as she heads off. For my part, I help Ellen gather up her things and bring them all to our room.

"Thanks for the help," she says, as I shoulder open the door.

"Hey, we're friends, aren't we?" I ask. "Friends help each other out through thick and thin- well, obviously you shouldn't stick with a friend if they're in the middle of doing something dumb, but otherwise? Yeah, I've got your back! Ellen?" I ask, when she doesn't respond for a moment. Heck, she doesn't even move for that moment.

"...thank you," she says. Oh my God, is she crying? She is! "Nobody's ever said anything like that to me before."

"...well screw them," I tell her, "I think it's about time someone did."

Spoiler alert!:

Just so you guys know, while there is a confrontation between Isobel, Angela and Ellen in the game (and yes, Angela actually says 'this one's yours?'), Mary Sue is far from an active participant. What actually happens is that Mary hears a commotion outside, but Isobel interferes before Mary could. Personally, I found that unsatisfying, and rewrote the scene to provide Mary with a more active role, as well as expand more on Ellen and Angela's personalities.

*~Just like my fanfictions~*

As we walk into our room, Ellen spots the cardboard piece I was writing on, along with all the glitter, pink craft paper and stuff I was experimenting with.



"Oh, that? It's not homework, it's some stupid love letter I have to write."

"Oh my!" Ellen gasps. "Already?"

"What? No, no!" I protest. "It's not a real love letter- my senior just asked me to write him one for initiation. Wants it, ugh, 'really romantic and juicy', though he'll back off on the latter if he ever wants to have children. With someone else, let's be clear. Thing is," I sigh, "I have nothing to say."

"Well, why not try quoting Shakespeare? Shakespeare's romantic," Ellen ventures.

"No, Shakespeare's porn," I counter. "Seriously, Hamlet was, like, a dick joke a minute in some places. Maybe I could try some of his sonnets... nah, it wouldn't count as writing if I just cribbed the Bard."

"It's not a real love letter either," Ellen points out.

"Yeah, but I have to be professional about this," I reply.

"I don't know," Ellen says. "It sounds like you don't really like the guy, so why take the letter seriously?"

I sigh again, and lean on the table. "Look, don't get me wrong," I begin. "I don't really dislike him- I mean, he can get infuriating sometimes- but I don't hate him or anything. Besides, it's only a week- if I cannot put any serious effort into what I'm doing now, how would it make me look to the seniors? To the teachers?"

"Good point," Ellen nods. "Oh, I have an idea!"



I have to admit, it's a very good idea. Now, what can I compare Damien to...?



As I'm deliberating my decision though, I suddenly become aware of someone looking over my back. "Hi, Virginia," I say.

"Hi Mary! Whatcha writing?" she asks.

Before I can answer, Ellen pipes up. "She's writing a love letter for Initiation. And no, it's not a serious love letter, just one she has to write for a joke. One of the seniors asked her to do it."

"Oooh, juicy!" Virginia says, and I bury my face in my palms.

"Please, don't say that," I whimper. "The word 'juicy' has been permanently tainted for me."

"That bad, huh?" Virginia says sympathetically. "Can't be as bad as my senior though."



"Ellen really lucked out though," Virginia pouts. "Guess who she got, guess- my brother, William! You'd think he'd throw the vote a little and give himself first choice, but nooo, he said it'd be favouritism! Hmph! Anyway, who did you get, Mary? If he's cute, maybe this whole 'love letter' business won't be so bad."

"Cute?" I consider a moment. "Well, I guess you could say Damien's cute-"

"Wait- Damien?!" Virgina gasps. "As in 'Damien Ramsey'? Wings and blue skin and everything? That Damien Ramsey? He's evil!"



"I mean, he's annoying, yeah, but not evil," I say.

"Yeah, but look at him! He's a demon!" Virginia counters.



And there you have it! Our next set of choices are:

What should we compare Damien to?
- His voice is like butter <3
- His teeth are like knives <3

And how should we respond to Virginia?
- Whoa, hold on there- demons are real?!
- Don't judge by appearances!

Voting ends at 0000 GMT Tuesday, June 12th!