Forums » General Roleplay » Class in Session (Highschool RP)

A busy highschool in a large city. Supernatural welcomed. Please feel free to just jump in!

Eerie made her way into her first period class, history. The morning was rainy and dreary, her favorite. Everything so grey and bleak, it pleased her aesthetically.

She wore a white, button up blouse tucked neatly into the waistband of a black, pleated skirt that brushed her thighs. On her dainty feet were thick, clunky looking Mary Jane shoes, and knee high tube socks with black stripes around the top.
To her chest, she held a binder, a notebook, and a black, leather bound sketchbook that she seemed to take everywhere.

Eerie had choppy, messily layered hair cut above her shoulders, and thick, messy bangs cut across her forehead. Her skin was ghostly pale, her dark blue eyes striking out against it dramatically. There was pink pigmentation on her cheeks, giving them a permanent flush, pink pigmentation under her large eyes, and on her button nose. Eerie had a strange look, perhaps considered beautiful if you appreciated that Burton-esque type beauty.

As she walked almost soundlessly through the crowded halls that were teeming with buzzing students, she couldn’t help but stare. Some simply caught her eye, and with her hauntingly big, doll-like eyes, it was easy to be labeled as ‘staring’.
She couldn’t help but look at a silvery blonde cheerleader, who Eerie could see was obviously suffering from an eating disorder. Eerie thought her skeleton looked beautiful pressing against her taunt skin.

She couldn’t help but look at a skinny, lanky boy with large glasses and cuts on his wrists. She couldn’t help but notice a tall, twisted, shadow creature clinging to his back, drooling over his shoulder and staring back at Eerie with empty, hollow eyes.

She couldn’t help but see and stare at the morbid showcase that walking through the high school provided. So many terribly beautiful things. Highschool was a setting filled with darkness, negative emotions, sadness, hatred; it was a feeding ground for those shadowy creatures that thrived off negativity.

Sighing softly through her plump, heart shaped lips, she finally reached her destination and disappearing into the history classroom. She took her place towards the back, nearest to the wall with the windows. Slumping into the chair, she neatly piled her notebook and binder on the right hand corner of the desk, then flipped open her sketchbook in the center of the desk, to a page with a half finished drawing of a feline skeleton.

There was something thrilling about skulking around a high school that Alucifer didn't quite understand entirely too well. Maybe it was because these were humans with their weird humans issues and their sentimentality towards the same routine daily; maybe it was because he certainly didn't belong.

He looked like he did though. He had temporarily traded away his sharp teeth for blunt, straight ones and pointed ears for rounded ones. His normally bright tawny eyes had melted to a soft hazel and his green skin had become a pale peachy colour. Even his dark green hair had blurred into a more subdued blond. He had even stripped himself of his birth name and replaced it with a more human albeit foreign one - Anselm.

He doubted anyone could see him though. He hadn't wanted anyone to see him yet so he had kept himself out of sight of most humans like a normal demon would. He figured if any were able to see him, they would appear eccentric to those around them. But so many of these kids seemed humdrum and dull, it dampened his mischievous ways.

There was one who was looking at something that caught his eye and he curiously leaned over the girl's shoulder. He didn't know her name yet though whether he really wanted to know was up to debate.

He wondered if he could steal the picture away from her. Half finished or not, he wanted it.

He casually reached for the page, brushing past her.

A chill ran up Eerie’s spine, birthing trails of goose bumps on her pale skin. Her senses were alerting her of a presence looming just behind her. Tensing up ever so slightly, she began the process of trying to tell if this presence was something normal and physical, like a nosy classmate or a curious teacher, or something... else.

She wasn’t able to deduce the mystery before feeling a brush and catching a reach from the corner of her vision. Without thinking, her own dainty hand swiped out and delivered a curt smack to the hand reaching for her beloved sketch book.
“Not your’s.” Eerie scolded, again without filtering herself, much too absorbed in protecting the book.

A few of the other students that had gathered into the class, gossiping and conversing until the bell, glanced her way at the sudden pipe of her voice.

Ritchie had been quiet all through first period. He was medicated today. His mom had finally convinced him to take the doctors medicine after he was forced to kill his father.

He had noticed Eerie acting.....eerie. He walked up to her in the hall and tapped her shoulder. Ritchie was high out of his mind....he was nice actually, very rare for him. “Uhh....Hello, I had you last period and....I-I wanted to check on you, you were acting strange...” he stopped and almost caught his senses and walked away,but the drugs kept him in the weird conversation. “Who were you talking too?” His Voice was deep and slurred a little bit.

(( may I join?? )

(Of course!)

Eerie was a little... suspicious when she was tapped on her shoulder after leaving her first period class. Other students didn’t often interact with her, especially not going out of their way to attract her attention like this. She turned to see a boy she’d never spoken to, who looked a little not all there.

She studied him with her big, haunting eyes for a moment in silence, before responding,
“I’m fine. I was talking to myself.”

Eerie had learned very early on that going for the option of sounding crazy was much easier than trying to explain what was actually happening. Her classmates already had her labeled as the weird girl, and she didn’t mind.

She peered into his glossy, drug glazed eyes, picking up on his slurred speech and general not-all-togetherness. Then, she glanced just behind him, where a looming shadow figure stood with droopy, hollow eyes. It appeared to be dripping all over, as if it were made of some thick liquid. It gaped it’s stringy mouth and moaned, “moooom maaade meeee...” in a hollow, deep voice that was barely a whisper.

She flicked her big, blue eyes back to the boy, ignoring the shadow being.

Al scowled, feeling like a child. This was almost insulting. He clearly deserved that picture. Humans were so stubborn sometimes. At the very least, he could have hurt her but refrained from doing so.

He had to find some way to get his hands on her sketchbook first.

It took him a bit to realise she had actually touched him and something about that made him feel... Uncomfortable? Unnerved? He didn't like whatever the feeling was.

He did, however, find himself interested in the boy bugging her. He wondered how hard it would be to pester him as he floated around Eerie, partially invading her personal space.

"I wonder what would happen if I shoved you two together like a bad comedy," Al mused to no one, anticipating no answer, "I'd pay to see the awkwardness of it all. Or blood. Preferably both."

Eerie’s big, owl-like gaze flicked over to where Al was hovering, hanging around like a fly.
He was interesting, in a strange way. Interesting because he didn’t seem to be the same as the normal shadow people she saw, he seemed so much more... more? He wasn’t like the grotesque shadow monsters that clung to people, feeding from their sorrow, pain, and fear. This boy... thing(?), was something else.

Eerie frowned in his direction, giving a brief shake of her head, causing her choppy hair to tussle a bit. She knew better than to response to him right in front of someone else, who obviously didn’t see Al too.

I don’t need more visits with the psychiatrist...She reminded herself.

She hated the psychiatrist.
She was very sure that all he wanted was to cut open her skull and eat all her thoughts.

The fact that Al had coaxed a reaction out of the girl delighted him to no end. He was somewhat disappointed she hadn't reacted in a much more active way but he pegged it as a win for himself anyway.

She seemed like she had seen things akin to him before and he wondered if she saw the creatures that ran amuck around here. He personally knew better than to mess with said entities; they did nothing but whine and mope. They weren't very entertaining.

The disguised demon grinned at her, his teeth glinting, and he lazily rolled onto his side in the air.

"That's a shame. It could be fun. Trust me, I know fun well," Al sighed, running fingers back through his fauxhawk.

Eerie ignored the floating boy and cleared her throat softly, glancing back at the shadow being clinging to Ritchie from under her shaggy bangs.

“Daddy’s gooooone,” It moaned quietly, black strings drooling from its gaping mouth. “Didn’t waannnnaaa doo iiitttt.”

Her strange gaze flicked away from the shadow being and to Ritchie’s drug-glazed eyes. She felt a small pinch of sympathy, she hated medication.

“Well, I’ll cya.” Eerie bid in a soft and quiet voice, before stepping around the drugged out boy on her dainty feet. She wasn’t sure he’d even remember having this conversation.

As she began off down the crowded hallway again, she peered over her shoulder at Al. Was he going to keep following her around? Sometimes that happened when one of them realized she could see and hear them, they’d follow her, cling to her, desperate to be acknowledged. This certain being didn’t seem quite like those others though, he seemed more lively. It was quite strange.

“Who are you?” She asked quietly, casting a side ways glance towards Al.

"Do you always talk to clearly supernatural strangers or am I just special?~" Al teased, glancing back at Ritchie and his 'friend' before returning his gaze to the girl, "I suppose you can call me Anselm. I'm a bit surprised you're even talking to me - considering you wouldn't even let me take your sketch."

The more he talked, the more apparent his British accent became. He didn't bother pretending it was anything else.

He looked around the hallway, watching other people and their entities meander about in an almost robotic way. Something caught his eye for a second, something shiny, but he chose to ignore it. He was interested in trying to find out as much as he could about his companion of sorts.

It was incredibly hard for Al to find anyone able to see him.

"Am I the only thing you're able to see or just the only thing you can coax a response out of?"

Eerie kept her face angled slightly down, so it was less obvious that she was speaking to seemingly no one, while her big ol’ eyes were looking up through her shaggy bangs to watch where she was walking.

“I only speak to the beings worth speaking to, Anselm.” The small girl replied, answering both his first and last question.

At the mention of her dear sketchbook, she tightened her grip around it, clutching it tighter to her chest. She cast her doey gaze over to him as she spoke, “You shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest! Starting a conversation with someone is the polite thing to do before trying to take their things- which you’re supposed to ask for, not just snatch. Don’t you have any manners?”

Her pace began to slow, before she dipped through a gathering of students chatting to get to the library doors, where her study hall period was held.

"I'm almost flattered," Al said, coquettishly waving a hand in her direction, "but it's a little obvious that I'm worth talking to. No offence to the other creatures around here, but they don't very much compare."

He watched the way she clung to her sketchbook as though it were a life preserver and she was drowning at sea, protective in every meaning of the word.

"It's not my fault that most people don't see me and you do. In any case, manners are for peasants. I'd be certainly more polite if I had to be though. I just simply don't feel like it. It's a bit bothersome." He crossed his arms and looked at her destination.


"Where are we and what's happening?"

“My, you’re certainly very entitled. I can see now why you assumed you could just take.” Eerie whispered, turning up her pink, button nose with a small, disapproving, “hm.”

She slipped her way through the large, shelf maze that was the school’s library as if she were a ghost herself. No one looked up in her direction, no hints of acknowledgement. She lead him to a small corner caved by towering book shelves, where a single table was crammed.
There were books on the history lesson she was currently studying, and some lined papers covered in dreary doodles spread about the table top, making it quite obvious not many other people came back here.

“This is the library,” She explained finally as she wiggled in to take a seat at the table. “We’re- I’m here for study hall.”
After taking a seat, she flipped open one of the old looking library books, one about the witch hunts that plagued early America. It’d been one of her favorite topics since she was about ten, so she was very pleased when they finally came to this point in history class.

Her round, wide eyes twitched across the yellowish page, trying not to look up at the presence hovering near, so distracting. She picked at a loose string on the end of her black skirt, pulling at it down her creamy pale thigh.

“Why are you here?” She asked out of the silence, a bit bluntly. “Do you often haunt high schools?”

*₴₵Ɽł฿฿ⱠɆ ₴₵Ɽł฿฿ⱠɆ ₴₵Ɽł฿฿ⱠɆ*

He never was able to write quickly, AND neatly.
The boy pursed his lips together, and shifted anxiously as he sat beneath a stray desk in the library.
He glanced around nervously, jittering, and drumming his fingers with his pen still between his fingers.
5 minutes had passed.
"How was that possible? It has been hours? Days? Weeks? No. Stop it. Focus.” the pale faced boy mumbled very quietly to himself, returning his attention to scribbling his story out in the semi blank page of the black, and white composition notebook he had pressed open.

*₴₵Ɽł฿฿ⱠɆ ₴₵Ɽł฿฿ⱠɆ ₴₵Ɽł฿฿ⱠɆ*

He began to notice just how hard he was pressing against the pages, realizing he was on the verge of tearing through the paper as he wrote the word “Passionate”
He paused, staring unmoved at the page for a good 20 seconds, before going back to writing as if he hadn’t stopped.
He listened to the shifting above, hearing whispers, the shuffling of heels, and the sound of the clock that was conveniently placed just high enough above the desk to hear.
A full half hour of this period without having to pay firmly attention to a teacher, he loved being here.
It was quiet, the desks were big enough for him to hide, and sprawl out under, and there was just enough light peeking though so he was still able to clearly see, whilst underneath.
“11…12…13” He counted, moving upwards on his leg, keeping mark on which stripe he was passing, as he moved up the pair of stripped tights that hugged his petite legs. “17…18…”

"This is the library”

!!!!

The dark haired boy softly gasped, and jumped, a bit startled, hearing the voice so near, and so suddenly, snapping him out of his daze.

“We’re- I’m here for study hall.” the voice spoke from the desk above.

Jives froze in place, his green eyes darting around in panic, realizing there was someone sitting at the desk he was hiding underneath to finish his writing.
He shifted, staring at the girl’s feet for a bit, blinking cautiously not to be around her legs in case she suddenly jerked her feet.
‘Ohh bad. So bad oh man oh bad oh bad oh man.’ his mind rambled, not entirely knowing how to handle this situation.
No one had ever really sat at the desks he was sitting under without knowing he was there.
He figured he should say something, lest she discover him on her own, and think the worst.
The antisocial boy moved forward about to poke his head out before-

“Why are you here?”

He froze, feeling his heart skip a beat.
He let his head sink down as he sat back on his legs feeling as if he had just gotten caught, and was now obligated to give an answer for his strange behavior (once again).
He swallowed hard, reaching up and tugging shyly on the bill of his black newsboys cap before opening his mouth to respond before "ᏖᏂ-ᏖᏂᏋ ᎧᏬᏖᏕᎥ-“

"Do you often haunt schools?”

!!?

The boy’s eyes paused, and turned upwards in confusion.
He tilted his head, unsure what she was asking, and even more unsure if she was speaking to him.
He made a face moving towards the other side of the desk, and letting his fingers slide up.
He softly gripped the edge of the table, pulling himself up, so only the top half of his face poked out from underneath the desk, so he may have a look at the person seated at the desk.

"..??"

(You may!)

From the edge of her big, wide eyes, Eerie noticed the tips of fingers immerging from underneath the desk. Her face slowly tipped up more to follow them, watching with intrigued curiousity.
Was it real?

Her doey, blue eyes seemed to grow even more when a boy’s face appeared, peeking over the edge of the table at her.
Eerie stared.

A frown creased under her shaggy, black bangs that hung over her forehead.
Some boy? Hiding out under the table? What if he was looking up your skirt!

“Hey!” She huffed, her pale face burning pink. “What were you doing down there?”

"Entitled is a bit strong for what I am, you know. I just have a different point of view on these things," Al explained with a slight hint of indignation.

He looked at the papers and books around him with slight interest, skimming over words and images. He particularly enjoyed the topic of the books though he was personally more a fan of European witch hunts. His opinion was more biased due to his time spent living through them.

Al was about to answer the girl's question when he then noticed the new arrival and found himself amused at the predicament that was now at hand. A peeking Tom was much more interesting than any spiel about hell.

"Well, obviously, he was enjoying the view," Al taunted, grinning through his teeth at the girl, "I suppose that hormones are one hell of a drug. Imagine if this was the start of a beautiful friendship. Imagine the story you'd tell. It's brilliant, I tell you."

He floated closer to the boy and scrutinised him.

"Can we keep him?" Al asked her, "I'll take good care of him, I promise."