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Holmes Academy
Catherine HolbrookAge:16
Bio: Daughter of two FBI agents (now separated) she was raised to be inquisitive and observant. Cat often gets caught looking through things she shouldn't (her parents case files, school records, etc.) She sometimes gets into sticky situations when she mouths off or sees things others miss, (and is a smart ass about it -Cat doesn't always know when to keep quiet)
Mod
Poe or Tennyson?
That was the question, and definitely not the answer, considering that any sentence with the word 'or' in it was technically a comparison or query, not an answer. According to the New Oxford Dictionary, an answer was "the correct solution to a question" and so far I had yet to find one.
I sighed and held both books up before me, studying their leather covers. I could only take one. I had promise myself - one poetry book, one history book, one fantasy novel, one sci-fi novel, one Agatha Christie novel and one notebook in which to write things down. That was all the books I would allow myself to bring...or that world fit snugly in my suitcase.
"Poe or Tennyson?" I whispered, putting the books down and walking over to my bedroom window and gazing out at the fields behind the two-story red-brick house we - my father and I - resided in at present.
The English Moorlands were stunning in the midday sun, which wasn't bright - it was like a light bulb that was slowly losing its power, but you knew it had the potential to leave you blinded if it took the effort. The drizzle from last night had let up and a nice breeze had picked up. Normally I would already be outside, notebook in hand and my kit of paints, setting off to go and sit in the long grass for a few hours, painting, writing or drawing - whatever suited me.
But this afternoon I was due to be on a train to London, so here I was in my room packing my things. But I was stuck...Poe or Tennyson?
Mod
Wester met me downstairs and graciously helped me heave my suitcase down the last few steps. "All packed, Miss Abby?" he asked, smiling at me. Wester had been apart of our household for as long as I could remember. Need milk, cookies or net for butterfly catching? Wester was your man.
I nodded. "I decided on taking Poe," I confided in him. "Tennyson seemed too...morbid."
"Morbid? Tennyson?" Wester shook his head slightly. "I was under the impression that Mr Poe was the more morbid of the pair."
"Oh no. Poe states the truth and does not beautify reality. Tennyson adds too many embellishments. That is morbid as it lures one into a false sense of security and then, when reality hits, bam! You're lost."
Wester inclined his balding head with a smile. "Indeed, miss. My mistake." He lifted the suitcase and carried it over to the front door, leaving it by the old-fashioned coatrack and then coming back to my side. "Would you like something light to eat, Miss Abby, before we depart?"
"That would be great, Wester."
I followed him into the kitchen and jumped up on one of the stools by the bench, watching with my chin in my hands as Wester set about making my all time favourite snack - Eaton Mess. He brought out a punnet of mixed berries, whipped cream, a box of miniature meringues and a pouring jug of raspberry coolie from the fridge.
Wester was a food magician.
"Has my father come out of his study today, Wester?" I asked, feigning nonchalance. Wester looked up from assembling the snack, frowning slightly.
"Miss Abby..." he began and then paused. "Miss Abby, your father is a good man and he loves you dearly. But after what happened to your mother..."
I gulped and swallowed thickly. Like I needed reminding. I tried to push memories to the back of my mind, instead drawing on stories - knights riding horses with their armour shining like bright pennies, assassins flinging sharp blades, men with monocles, ladies who had jewellery boxes with fake bottoms...these were what I used to drown out the echoes of a past sorrow that had dictated my life since I could remember.
"I'm sorry, Wester," I whispered.
Wester's tone was firm. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Miss Abby. You were given an honour - it is not your fault that attending HOLME Academy is a thing that brings your father...painful memories."
My mother had gone to HOLME. She had been talented, beautiful and witty - until the day that she was on the trail of a murderer and was killed in an abandoned alley. They - my father and the police - never told me how she was killed. But I knew that none of them knew who had attacked her. Her office had been ransacked, her notes taken or burnt to a crisp.
Wester awoke me from my sad train of thought by pushing the bowl of yummy goodness towards me and handing me a silver spoon. He gave me a small smile. "Eat up, Miss Abby. We have to leave in half an hour - the train leaves the station at 3pm sharp."
Mod
Age: 17
Bio: Son of divorced parents but lives with his mildly depressed dad. He's amazing with computers and can hack everything. He has an almost photographic memory. He's a troublemaker but almost never gets caught.
((((What time period is this??))))
Mod
Age: 18
Bio: Daughter of separated parents. Mr and Mrs Delinton. Has siblings: Vermona and Abigail. She has OCD (obssessive compulsive disorder) and can notice almost anything from a speck of dust out of place to an out of tune rhythm.
Her Mottos: There is no such thing as coincidence for everything happens for a reason.
There is no such thing as bad or good. Just the path that people choose to take.
Mod
Age: 17
Bio: Son of divorced parents but lives with his mildly depressed dad. He's amazing with computers and c..."
(Modern day)
Catherine Holbrook"Cat, aren't you ready yet?" Mum called impatiently, she was standing next to the front door by the sound of it. "Almost!" I called back, hurriedly stuffing the files into my carry-on bag. "You better not forget that letter, or your passport!" I rolled my eyes she knew I wouldn't forget.
"You better not be taking my case files again! Be a normal teenager for once in your life and take your iPod." I made a face, "But Mum, they're old cases this time! Why can't I take them, besides if you wanted me to be normal you shouldn't have let me enroll in HOLME." Even from my room I could hear her sigh so I gathered my stuff and walked to where she was waiting by the front door.
"True enough," she smiled ruefully and checked her watch. "C'mon or you'll miss your flight honey." I nodded and shouldered my bags. "Is Dad coming to see me off?" I asked almost afraid to be hopeful. He hadn't been around much since the separation. Mum tried to smile encouragingly, "I don't know sweetheart." By the way her face was sagging I knew he wasn't.
"Let's just go," She nodded took one of my bags so I didn't have to carry both. "You know," she turned to me with with a mischievous glint in her eye "HOLME is a very big deal in the UK, it's quite the honor to be invited to attend." I felt laughter bubble up from my chest, I loved it when Mum mocked things that really oughtn't be mocked.
"When you arrive at the London airport your cousin Franny and aunt Jessica should be there to take you to the academy, so just look for them ok?" I didn't bother mentioning that I had no idea what they looked like, I knew she was testing me again. "Oh and don't think I didn't notice that you have more than just old cases." I cringed, sometimes it was really bothersome having detectives for parents.
Mod
"Wait, wait" I said inspecting my suitcase. Abigail was helping me pack my suitcase for HOLME academy. She was the only one with a strong- enough will to stay in the same room with me.
"What's wrong now, Patrisse. Everything's perfect see." Abigail said irritated showing me the suitcase and the interior of it. It seemed perfect from the neatly folded socks packed color-coded to the casual clothing neatly stacked in certain categories.
"Still, it seems wrong... something's missing from it. Wait, I know what's missing. My dis-infectant wipes." I said a grin across my face. How could I forget such a thing, I thought as I left the room and travelled down the spiral grand staircase of the mansion where I lived.
Our parents were pretty wealthy even though they were separated. They both lived in mansions so I wasn't too fussed. Abigail and I lived with our mother whereas Vermona lived with my father.
I was very giddy today considering I had been accepted to HOLME academy. No-one else in my family had been accepted so I was happy. I didn't feel left out for once, I felt unique.
I spent the next two hours with Abigail who was getting more annoyed by the second till finally the suitcase was perfect.
"Thanks for helping, Mom would have gone mad if I asked her to help" I said kindly.
She didn't say anything but looked at me curiously before leaving the room. I took out my pocket-watch from my blue buttoned jacket I was wearing. It was 2:22pm. I had to leave to catch the train soon.
I picked up my bag and left the room giving my very neat, organised, tidy room which was the size of an entire floor a last sweeping glance before I closed and locked the door.
The mysteries of that room and me contained.
Mod
"Choose a window seat, Miss Abby, when you get on. The view is quiet lovely and it will help pass the time." Wester stood at my elbow, carrying my suitcase, using one hand to shade his eyes from the glare as he stared down the empty tracks. "Did you bring your purse?"
I nodded and held tightly to my handbag. "Wester?"
"Yes, Miss Abby?"
"Say goodbye to Father for me."
Wester gave me a compassionate glance. "I will, Miss Abby. And be sure to write about all your adventures."
I smiled in return and fingered my long plait nervously...a habit of mine. I had red-brown hair like my mother, as well as her clear skin and long eyelashes. But I had my father's murky grey eyes, like smudged paint on a canvas, which ruined the effect. I was fairly short for my age, only 1.6 metres and barely reached Wester's shoulder. Which was unfortunate, seeing I had to be that high to properly see over the gathering crowds of people.
Catherine Holbrook"Call me when you land, ok? And tell me what you think about those old cases too." I nodded and hugged Mum for what felt like the 20th time, which was ok. She gave me a watery smile and waved me to security, "ok, I won't hold you up any more wouldn't want you to miss your flight. Have a great time and write me and your father lots ok sweetheart?" We hugged again and I went off to catch my flight.
***
I stretched and yawned "man that was a long flight," I said rubbing my eyes. After going through customs and grabbing my bag from baggage claim I stood looking around at the people greeting travelers.
Based on what my Mum looked like I assumed her sister would look similar so I tried picking out a short woman with red gold hair. There were actually a few women fitting that description but only one who was standing next to a young girl who looked to be about 13 which was my cousin's age. The girl spotted me and started waving and gesturing like a mad person and I smiled, so crazy ran in the family.
"Hi! You must be Catherine, it's so good to meet you! I can't believe someone from our family is going to HOLME! I knew that Auntie was smart but I didn't know that you were too!" Franny grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously. I tried not to giggle at her inability to speak without using exclamation points.
"Now, now Franny the poor things probably jet lagged. You look dead on your feet deary." Aunt Jessica put her hand on Franny's shoulder in an attempt to calm her down and smiled at me warmly. "We'll get you to the academy right quick to get you settled down, don't you worry." She grabbed heavier bag guided Franny and I to a car outside.
"It's a bit of a drive to HOLME so why don't you try to get some rest, we'll wake you when we arrive." I nodded gratefully and rested my head against the car door's window, letting my eyes droop. Something in my brain clicked seconds before I would have fallen asleep, "It was her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend!" I said sitting up straight. Franny and Aunt Jessica looked at me strangely and I felt heat rise to my face. "Um never mind." I said sheepishly and settled back against the window. I would have to call Mum and tell her I had solved her case.
Mod
I stuffed everything into my suitcase and picked it up. It was pretty lightweight so I could fit in some more stuff. I took my multipurpose pocket knife and flipped the mini screwdriver out. I undid a few screws and took out some of the padding. When I patched everything back together there was plenty of space left.
I carefully placed my laptop inside with it's mouse, USB cords and a few pirated DVD's and games. I slammed the case shut easily and locked it.
"Raymond!" Came a voice from downstairs.
I gritted my teeth. Eww. Raymond? That name must be, what, a thousand years old?
"I'm ready!" I took my suitcase and exited. My father, looking as thin and frail as ever, followed after me as I took the driver's seat.
Ever since I'd gotten my driver's licence I hadn't allowed my father to drive. I was always worried that he'll lose control and crash. He smiled and waved me goodbye as I started the car and drove off. It was easy to leave him behind. I hated how ever since mum divorced him he was too sickly to do anything. I moved on, why couldn't he?
The drive to the train station was short and I met my friend, Chase, there. He smashed me on the back encouragingly and smiled.
"Congrats." He said with a heavy accent.
"Thanks. I'll make sure to hack your emails often." I joked.
He grinned, "Get a window seat. That way I'll be able to throw rocks at you when you leave."
Mod
I was rueing my love of murder mystery novels as I stood in the central aisle of the train, being shoved by passengers and their luggage, looking for a seat whilst trying to hold back a shudder. Murder on the Orient Express ring a bell? Trains were full of mysteries, and people who seemed like one thing but really were psychopaths beneath they black hat brims and lace handkerchiefs.
I spotted a window seat and quickly made my way to it, tugging on my suitcase as I went. I was about to put down my suitcase when a voice from behind me made me jump. "Excuse me, but that is my seat." I turned to see a young guy behind me, holding a silver suitcase.
I stumbled with a reply, but he had already slid past me and made himself comfortable in the window seat...MY window seat. I bit back a nasty comment and lifted my chin, taking the seat behind him, which was, luckily, free, but had little room for my suitcase, which I needed up putting in the overhead compartment.
I was just about to grab a book out of my bag when a familiar head popped up over the back of the seat in front of me, startling me. It was the seat-stealing boy.
Mod
I wasn't one for trains. Who knew how many germs those seats could be harbouring. I was fortunate enough though to find a spare carriage which was remotely clean.
Reluctantly I sat myself down at a window seat after having been driven to the station by my mom and having bid goodbye and stared out at the surroundings. In just 3 hours I would be in London. I was apprehensive, I thought. Scared, but eager for what would be coming at HOLME Academy.
I sat there playing with my nimble yet long fingers. I was sentenced to a life with fingers like this. I also had naturally straight blonde hair which reached my shoulders and which I usually has tied up in a ponytail.
After a while I got bored of just sitting there so I took out my notebook. A fairly, average but neat green notebook.
I opened the notebook to a spare page and took out a pen and began to write a diary entry. But not just any Diary entry I liked to pretend I was someone else from a play, television show or poem and I liked to re-enact their journeys but from my perspective. It really helped me let out my emotion.
Who should I be this time, I thought. I thought of being the Doctor from Doctor Who but I had done many entries using him. I needed someone new, different, unique. A new character I hadn't yet used.
After a lot of brooding I decided to use Puck (Robin Good fellow) from a Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare. One of my favourite Comedic plays. I was very happy with the character I had chosen. A trickster who decieves but knows when to make things right and choose a proper path.
It went perfectly with my motto
There is no such thing as good or bad, just the path that people choose to take.
So I set about writing an entry through Puck's perspective and was pleased how well it had came out after I read through it 30 minutes later.
Puck's Diary Entry
Alas, King Oberon has entrusted me with a task. A task to find a flower entitled love-in-idleness.
Let it be seen to thou that King Oberon and Queen Titania had been having a dispute,
over a little changeling stolen from an Indian King. This changeling is what Oberon
wants and he vows as one would vow to love that he will not stay
alongside Titania if he does not have the Indian boy.
Thus, I be led here roaming the woods of Athens to find the flower of which King
Oberon talks; for Oberon plans to use the magical properties of this flower on Queen
Titania whilst she sleeps so that when thou wakest thee shall go under a trance
and shall fall in love with that of which she first sees and hears.
But this, this I know is not the clear path of Oberon's revenge.
Though, it may be clouded it is clear that thou hopes for Titania to
fall in love with some hideous animal so that thee will easily hand over
the changeling to the hands of King Oberon.
My first task, to find the flower for King Oberon has all come from jealously and dispute.
But finding Love-in-idleness proves to test my knowledge and skill. I know I must
be quick in completing this task for King Oberon will be awaiting my arrival
any minute to be given the flower to follow out his carefully- thought out plans.
I agree to the plan of King Oberon, for I am a trickster and messing
with the world is what I do. Messing with ones feelings
and emotions brings my amusement to a higher level.
I feel empowered thus I feel on top of the world by depleting others.
Though, there is still a turning point on the path chosen to follow. One must know
when to turn around and fix what is broken if it is right to do so.
Thou must know that I, Puck, the trickster must stay true to my morals.
Looking through the woods and different gardens I come across one garden.
Oh, how beautiful it is with all different colours. Their properties
could fill an entire rainbow and take you to the Pot of gold on the
other side.
As I walk away a spark of light catches my eyes and as I turn I find what Oberon
has ordered me to find. Love-in-idleness. How beautiful it looks, as if the flower
contains no flaws at all.
Going as quickly as I could I find King Oberon overhearing the conference of
an Athenian youth and women. I keep quiet until the two disappear thus
I make my entrance. As usual, Oberon has been awaiting my arrival. Thinking,
I have done my part in his plans I hand over the flower only to be given
a half of the flower in return.
Another task is to be completed. An Athenian women I am told, is trying
to find love with an Athenian youth who is as despicable as a youth can be.
I am told by King Oberon to find this Athenian youth who wears Athenian
clothes and squeeze some of the juice into his eye whilst he sleeps so
that when thou wakest true love will bloom in the air and the Athenian
women will have the man she so very desires.
I take the flower and go on my way to find this Athenian youth who
wears Athenian clothes and create love that was meant to be. Why, there
is the Athenian youth in his Athenian clothes sleeping, drifting away in
his dreams. I squeeze the juice into his eyes whilst he sleeps. Let it
be shown to thou that when thou wakest thee shall fall in love with
the Athenian women and love that was meant to be will be.
Walking away, I feel ever so sorry for that lad, the Athenian youth.
Although, their love was meant to be I feel it is not right to meddle
with love in such a way. It is not right for a man to be in love with
a women under a trance when really he loves her not at all.
But, it is King Oberon's orders and they must be followed. And who knows
it could be fun to watch a man woo over a women he doesn't really love.
As I go to report to King Oberon I feel ever so confident that I have
succeeded well in both tasks which he ordered me to complete. I know
that when I report to King Oberon I will have made him ever so proud.
X Puck
I put away my notebook and then wondered. I wonder if there's anyone else on this train going to HOLME Academy.
It was likely, I thought. So I picked myself up and went searching through the carriages for anyone who might look like they were going to an Academy.
Catherine HolbrookI slept the entire 45 minutes it took to get to HOLME. I grabbed my stuff from the trunk of Aunt Jessica's car, "Thanks again for driving me all the way here." Aunt Jessica waved my thanks off like it was nothing, "Now love, most of the other students will be arriving by train later today so you should try to get settled before they all get here. That way you can get a little more help if you need it," She smiled slightly, "although I'm sure you won't need it, you are Vicky's daughter after all. We'll let you settle everything and come visit another time, you're welcome to call whenever you like. We'll be waiting to hear from you."
I waved goodbye to Aunt Jessica, who smiled and Franny, who waved back energetically. I shouldered my bags and turned to get my first good look HOLME academy.
Mod
"Upsie daisy" I swung my suitcase over the brown-red head of the girl. She glared at me as I shuffled back into the window seat I had taken from her.
I took out my PSP and started playing a game. I had made my one-of-a-kind customised character by hacking into the game system files and changing a few pictures around. It felt cool knowing that my game was unique.
I looked up at the girl, who was still glaring at me, "What? There's plenty of other seats, sit in those." I told her.
All the window seats were taken but there were still plenty seats free.
Mod
Searching through the carriages I came across one carriage which was really full. I hated full carriages. I looked to one side of the carriage and saw a guy who was playing on a PSP. I also saw a girl in the seat behind him who looked agitated. I could see from here that it looked pretty cramped where she was sitting. The guy probably stole the seat from her.
I looked at the girl who was reading a book. I looked intently at the book from my distance and saw a picture of a Raven on it. Edgar Allan Poe, I thought.
A brilliant poet, I thought. Though I was more fond of Shakespeare.
I had a feeling, more so a hunch that she and the guy in front of her were both travelling to HOLME Academy.
I made my way to the seat next to the girl and sat down. It was really cramped but at least it was neat.
I didn't say anything though. I just sat that looking from her to the boy and back again.
I was trying to see what they were like from a physical aspect. The girl seemed like someone who loved books and was probably interested in mysteries etc. The guy looked like a laid-back to anything to get guy.
I sat there watching them intently which I had a feeling made them uncomfortable. After a While, I got sick of staring and thinking so I decided to make conversation.
"Hello," I said directing my conversation to both of them.
Mod
"You know," I said, surprising myself, "Right now if I had to pick the murderer you would probably be my first suspect."
The boy put down his PSP and stared at me. "Ah...what?" he asked, looking bewildered.
"Agatha Christie. Murder on the Orient Express." I put down my book and gave him a once over. "You don't seem overly shifty, but who knows with a psychopath?"
He blinked twice. "I'm sorry...what?"
"But then again..." I paused and bit my nail, thinking. I never had been good at keeping my opinions to myself. "Your rude and obnoxious attitude could be hiding a secret intention and your PSP could convert into some sort of gun or weapon-device-thingy. Like in that story where-"
"I'm sorry," he repeated, this time angrily. "But you are stark raving mad. What on earth are you jabbering on about?"
Mod
"As good as I am at those sorts of things, I'm not going to change my gaming consoles into a weapon." I turned back to my game, annoyed, "the files would go corrupt and the game wouldn't work."
I shook my head and unpaused my game. I swear, just because I have a black stud in one ear doesn't mean I'm a criminal.
Mod
"You seem to know an awful lot about criminal activities and console structures not to be," I reasoned. He shot me a dirty look and I gave a shrug. "Besides - if you weren't a criminal wouldn't you be arguing with me that you weren't? That's standard criminal activity - it lulls the victim into a false sense of security," I finished matter-of-factly.
The Angry Dude sighed loudly and put down his PSP, pausing it with the press of a button. "Do you ever shut up?" he asked, in a tone that meant to inflict hurt but which I just took in my stride.
"No."
He stared at me. "You are so weird."
"You've said something of a similar nature already, I believe," I said, pulling out my book again. "I'll be keeping an eye on you," I warned, raising an eyebrow. "Criminal or not, there's something not right about you."
Mod
I huffed angrily. Jeez, what a nice place to be. No way out and two psychos behind me.
"Yeah? What if I told you there's something 'not right' about you either? It's not like I'm going to blow up this train with my piercing, so just.. piss off."
I couldn't concentrate on my game with a blondie drilling holes in my head with her eyes and a freak who thought I was a criminal so I decided to surf the net. Normal PSP's didn't have the internet but then again, this one wasn't normal.
Mod
None of them replied so I decided to talk to the girl since the guy seemed to weird.
" hey," I said to her hoping she would reply.
Mod
I glanced up and saw a girl, who did not look like the criminal type and had a very nice shade of nail polish on her slender fingertips. "Hey," I said. Then I jerked my head at Angry Dude and asked, "Do you think he seems like the criminal type?"
Mod
I looked at Angry dude and once again surveyed him. " I don't know. He looks like a guy who wouldn't care about anything, you know a laid back guy. Criminal... maybe... but unlikely"
I replied. I looked up at Angry dude who was now looking at us now. "Are you the criminal type ?" I blurted out randomly trying to start a conversation.
Mod
I snorted at the blondie's question, "No, are you stupid? The closest thing I've done to a criminal activity is hacking the sub teacher's computer and changing the lesson plan."
From maths to a Water balloon fight in minutes.
Good times. Good times. I grinned.
Mod
And he thought I was crazy.
"The closest thing you've done?" I repeated, sharing a bewildered look with the blonde girl. "You HACKED a computer - that is illegal, a breach on a person's privacy and probably also breaking several school rules."
Mod
I shrugged,"It was a substitute, our class would've started mucking up anyway so why not take stress away from the sub by pretending it was a planned activity? Besides, it was boiling. Here in England it's always cold and cloudy but back in Australia you could fry eggs on rocks."
They both looked shocked.
"Plus, it's not like I changed or looked at anything important or private. Just the lesson plan." I added.
Mod
Hmm...lack of conscience. Tick one on the 'What makes Angry Dude a Murder Suspect List'. I noticed the blonde girl was still standing and gestured to the seat beside me. She smiled gratefully and took it.
"So," she said, smiling brightly. "Where are you two headed to?"
"I'm off to a new school," I said, not sure whether HOLMES was public knowledge or some sort of top-secret place for young rapscallions. "In London."
Mod
A new school in London? I swear if they're going to HOLMES as well I will go back to Australia.
"Which school, SHERLOCK?" I didn't know if the school was secret or not. Anyway, if they were going to the school, they would know what I was talking about.
Mod
"Let me guess..." I said lowering my voice to a whisper "HOLMES Academy"
"Whoah," Both of them said at the same time.
"How the hell did you know" The Angry dude said startled.
"Well you guys looked like you'd be someone who goes to the Academy, plus I'm going there too" I said.
'Really ?" The girl said.
"Yes, really" I said.
We sat there for the next few minutes in awkward silence before I broke the awkward silence.
"So, don't you find it really weird that we don't even know each other's names ?" I asked.
Mod
I clicked my fingers, "Yeah!" I said with false enthusiasm, "That's right! I should make sure I know your names."
"What's your name?" I asked the red/brownie.
"Abby." She introduced.
"Awesome." I pointed to the blondie, "What's your name?"
Mod
"Patrisse," the girl said.
I shook my head. "To answer you question...no - acquaintances are normally the better for not knowing each other's names. Their relationships then form on the grounds of how they perceive one another and personal interactions rather than on the label or name given. There was this one book-"
"Yes," Angry Dude interrupted. "It is really weird." I shot him a look which he ignored.
Mod
"There was this one book this. There was this one book that." I waved my hands around, "Is that all you do? Read books?"
Abby looked insulted but I continued.
"I mean, really. Go play footy or something. Go into the outside world." I gestured widely as if the 'outside world' was a majestic place.
I leaned closer, "Stories aren't going to help you. You know why? Because those stories you read, They. Aren't. Real." I snarled.
(((*Cries* how can my character hate books so much?!?!?!)))
Mod
"Umm.... excuse me. What do you mean they aren't real. Is this real ?" I asked. This guy was so rude. He had not a clue what he was talking about.
'What do you mean ? Of course this is real" He said getting more agitated by the second.
"How do you know ? How do you know we're not just pawns in a game. You don't know. So how can you say stories are not real, when you don't even know what real is ?" I said ending on a note which said end of discussion.
He looked at a loss for words. Abby looked at me like I was the weirdest girl she ever met. What, I liked philosophy.
Mod
"Well," I said, trying not to let my hurt show in my voice. "You - Angry Dude - obviously need more literature in your life, seeing you act like you've had one to many footy balls collide with your head."
Partisse snorted. "Losing braincells by the minute - but does he really have a brain? Do any of us?"
Mod
I laughed, deciding to ignore Patrisse's creepy comment, "Angry dude?! That's a terrible nickname! If you really read as much as you seem to, why can't you think of a better name?"
"Then what is your name?" Abby asked.
I grinned, holding up three fingers, "You have three guesses. If you figure it out then I'll leave you and your books alone." I gestured around the train, "There's plenty of clues around."
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I smirked. "Three won't be necessary...your name is Raymond Karler."
Angry Dude's mouth dropped open. "What...what the hell? How-"
I grinned and pointed to his PSP. "The paused screen...your username or file name is Karler and these's a tag saying 'Karler' on your suitcase. Oh, and by the way - there's a guy standing on the platform outside waving a sign that says "See you Raymond!" one it. You might want to check it out."
Angry Dude Whose Names Is Raymond looked out the window and swore. "Chase!" he said under his breath. "Thanks dude, thanks."
"Nice work," Patrisse said. I shrugged.
"It was nothing. Really."
Mod
I cringed at Chase's sign. He grinned from the platform. I whipped out my phone and sent him a text message.
Dude! "Raymond"? We talked about this! I swear if u don't change that sign now I will get out of this train and murder u rite now.
He gave me a thumbs-up after reading and took a black marker out of his pocket, scribbling over the sign. He replaced my actual name with my awesome nickname.
I pointed to the to girls behind me, gritting my teeth "Don't call me that."
They looked shocked by the sudden change of atmosphere.
"Don't call me by that stupid name, okay?" I growled. "My name is Rayne."
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"On our parades?" I asked and Patrisse laughed outright. Angry Dude (and yes, I will continue to call him that internally) looked confused.
"Ah...what?"
"Rayne on our parades. Damper. Rain. Droplets." His brow furrowed and he glared as he caught on.
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I held my hands up, finally getting the joke, "Watch out refridgerators, HERE is what's cool. Lame puns: Totally 'in' right now." I said sarcastically. My phone vibrated and I took it out of my pocket. It was from Chase.
Sorry Raginmund, forgot about your name thing. :P My bad.
I cringed, quickly hiding my phone from the nosy onlookers behind me. I peered out the window and saw Chase still there. I flipped him the bird and he pretended to take something out of his pocket. He took out his hand with his middle finger up, grinning.
Name: Maya StewartAge: 16
Bio: Of Indian-British origin, the only daughter of the couple. She lost her mother at a very young age, so is brought up by her widowed father. He is the Head of the Department of Technology at the HOLMES Academy. Maya is very good with any sort of gadget, is very good with anagrams and puzzles. Observant and cunning (in short, a smart-ass). Has a very good memory.
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What an Idiot, I thought.
Abby seemed to be thinking the same thing.
"So, where's your luggage ?" She asked me.
'Oh, it's back in the other carriage, don't worry I remember where it is so no problem there." I replied.
After a couple of minutes of silence the train finally began to move and soon we were on our way to HOLME Academy.
Catherine HolbrookIt was official I hated Mrs. Dewhurst. She was supposed to be giving me a tour of HOLME but instead she was taking her time mocking everything. She was one of those people who was terrible in an almost oblivious way, say for example that you happened to like the color red, she would state everything wrong with that color before realizing that you liked it and when she did realize she would say sorry in a haughty tone that was obviously sarcasm.
"Look, just because you didn't get to marry the man whom you were in love with does not mean you can bully the people around you." I said trying to look as intimidating as possible. Mrs. Dewhurst flared her nostrils and had a shocked look on her face. I rolled my eyes, "you had a picture of someone who was not your husband on your desktop and you kept muttering his name.
She stared daggers at me, "and how did you know he wasn't my husband?" she didn't say it aloud but I had the feeling the word twit was implied. "Because there was another picture of another man who had "Dewhurst" on his name tag."
"Tours over, get back to your room." She said flatly. "Wait but I don't know where it is." I objected but she was already walking away. "Figure it out, you should be able to." She replied over her shoulder, smiling vilely. I let out a few choice words that would have had my mother washing my mouth out with soap as Mrs. Dewhurst strutted away.
"I guess I will have to find my own way, geez maybe next time I'll think before saying something like that." I ran my hand through my hair and pulled it back into a knot, then grabbed my bags and started looking more closely at HOLME.
Isabelle wrote: "Name: Patrisse DelintonAge: 18
Bio: Daughter of separated parents. Mr and Mrs Delinton. Has siblings: Vermona and Abigail. She has OCD (obssessive compulsive disorder) and can notice almost anyth..."
((Can I be one of your sisters? For a change :) ))
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Age: 18
Bio: Daughter of separated parents. Mr and Mrs Delinton. Has siblings: Vermona and Abigail. She has OCD (obssessive compulsive disorder) and can no..."
Yeah sure, why not =)
Abigail DelintonI sat on my bed, already missing Patrisse. I was excited that she had got invited to the fancy school, but now I was all alone...
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I glanced around the train. I couldn't help but feel something was going to happen. I stretched my legs out and tried to shrug the feeling off but it stayed like an irritating mosquito.
I glared outside, watching the scenery blur by. Graffitied walls sped past like multicoloured waves. I tucked my PSP into my bag, keeping an inconspicious eye on the rest of the carriage.
A redhead two seats ahead of me, blackberry phone. Old man in the middle, newspaper, balding head. Pregnant(or very fat) woman in the corner holding a bag of groceries. A family with two kids and a wailing baby tucked into its mother's arms.
None of them looked suspicious, but that didn't stop my imagination from making up stories. I sighed and rested my chin on my palm, looking out the window again.
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Halfway through the trip, I decided to take a tour around the train - self-guided, of course, but a tour nevertheless. I left my seat, shrugged on my coat and walked in the direction of the main carriage.
What excites me about trains, or theatres - or even those delightful shopping 'villages' - is that they are full of people with interesting stories. I sometimes wonder what they're thinking about, where they're going and most importantly what their intent is.
Intent is a flimsy thing and sometimes we're intending not to think about our true intent or even masking our true intent so that it looks like our true intent when really our true intent is to appear to have an intent when really we don't - besides the intent of masking our intent.
As I walked down the main aisle, I glimpsed a family - a mother, father and a sleepy baby who was curled up in the young mother's arms - as well as a group of four little old women who were laughing as they clacked their knitting needles together at lightening speed. Two schoolboys with navy caps played chess, a young woman with a blonde pageboy cut sat staring out a window as she clutched a handkerchief to her heart. An old couple sat opposite one another, reading two copies of the same book. Entering the next carriage, I saw it was empty besides a family of four and a businessman in an elegant suit, his tie green with a gold pin.
"'Scuse me, miss," said a middle aged man, almost bumping into me as he headed in the opposite direction. He was almost at the door when, in a flash, the businessman had him pinned against the window - a knife to his throat and a deranged look in his eye.
I sucked in a breath and felt my knees turn to water. A quick glimpse at the family of four alerted me to the fact that no one else knew what was going on. No one. I backed up against the wall and glanced into the compartment.
"Tell me where it is!" hissed the businessman. He had a strong jaw, without a trace of facial hair and his head was bald. Cold blue eyes stared hard at the struggling man before him. "Tell. Me!"
"I...shit, mate, I haven't a...a clue where it is - God, mate, I told 'ya what I know now...now let me out! Out I say!"
"Not until you tell me!" There was a strangled cry as the knife nicked the struggling man's chin. I bit back a gasp and felt my heart thud faster. This was real. This wasn't a novel, nor a film. This was R.E.A.L, REAL! I blinked quickly and struggled to think of a solution. What would a heroine do?
"Shall I make you lose an ear?" The businessman's voice dropped and his tone was deadly calm. I checked the next carriage but it was empty. The family of four had opened up a container of sandwiches and were munching away happily - oblivious to the commotion in the next compartment.
"No...no! I told 'ya I haven't got a clue where it is...I...I swear!" The other man's voice was strangled and desperate, cracking at the end.
"Tell me now or it goes."
"I. Don't. KNOW!"
I reached a hand into my coat pocket and searched wildly for pen and paper. Finding a small notepad and a blue pen, I scrawled a message, ripped out the page and then - grabbing a metal box that sat on a table in the aisle - slipped the paper into the front casing of the box and then threw the box through the compartment's glass door.
I ran, locking myself in one of the nearer - but not too close - compartments and getting out my book with trembling hands. I stared hard at the words, breathing in and out. I heard a shout, a cry and then the stomping of footsteps. Breathe. Breathe. The footsteps grew louder and I watched from the corner of my eye as the businessman stormed past, heading for the next compartment.
The note clutched in his hand. I knew what it read. My dear friend, I see you are wasting your time playing the fool. Your true lead on what you're looking for is long gone.
I had a vivid imagination - I had known that the businessman was obviously searching for a lead, so I had led him astray. Hopefully he had left - or jumped off - the train and was searching for the lead that didn't exist. Still breathing fast, I slipped out of the compartment and left the carriage, not bothering to check on the other man.
I didn't want to see if...well, if anything had happened.
I returned to my seat and got out the book again, staring hard at the pages.
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Abby had left to go somewhere and had then come back and sat down most probably immersing herself in a book.
I started to get bored just sitting there with Raymond in front. So I decided to go back to the other compartment to get my luggage which I'd left behind.
I finally found the compartment, slid the door open got my luggage and took it back to my seat before slumping back into the seat.
I was so bored. I had so many unasnwered questions in my head that I decided to ask one just to start a conversation.
"Ok, umm... random question... but would you rather live in a world without science or a world without Religion ?" I asked to both Raymond and Abby.
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"Without science," I answered immediately. "Because religion is the human races' way of trying to find its origins, in order to keep hope, faith and the belief in something better alive. Without religions there would be no greater meaning to science. Why search for life on other planets? To fuel the curiosity? No. We search for answers and conduct what we call 'science' because we are searching for a truth we believe is out there. And the various religions help give fuel to this belief."
HOLME Academy is a school which not anyone can go to - based on your background, abilities and other information that HOLME have gleaned from their surveillance, you are sent an invitation. At the end of each year, only the best students will be given the chance to join the ranks of HOLME and prove themselves in the field.
But the action doesn't only go on once schooling is done. On the contrary - it seems that the school itself houses more mysteries and secrets than the ones solved by Holmes himself.
You are cordially invited to HOLME Academy, England - watch your step, be on your guard. You must pass your lessons and the tasks set for you, but beware...not everyone is what they appear and as mysteries arise even friends can turn to foes. It is up to you to pass, be chosen into the ranks at the end of the year and manage to solve all the mysteries that confront you during your stay.
It's rather elementary.
_______________________
My character:
Name: Abby Dallington
Age: 17
Quick Bio: The daughter of a widowed professor. Abby has read one too many books and likes to constantly make references to things she's read - this may come in handy, because often crimes have patterns similar to those she's read. She is curious, observant and loves to ask questions even when she shouldn't.