Alira overheard the conversation behind her. She thought that the girl with the pink hair might be being a little harsh, but she did have a good point. "You do not play magic," she chastised the young man who was picking up his cards. "Magic is not a toy. It can be extremely dangerous, if you don't know what you're doing." Her tone of voice was completely serious, with no hint of irony... it would be obvious to anyone who overheard her that she believed in magic.
"Rick?" Alira said. "That's a good strong name, a warrior's name. You should be proud of it." It certainly did have an intimidating sound to it... it was almost like the noise a blade made striking bone.
"Alira," she replied. "And you are?" She realized she didn't know anyone in the classroom's name. A voice whispered in her ear, and she resisted the temptation to react to it... no need to make anyone think she was crazy just yet. Besides, where she was from fairies talked to people all the time.
I'm about to introduce some more characters -- a fairy who is at school with Alira but using an invisibility spell to hide herself from the other students for reasons that will become fairly obvious later, and a vampire who is basically Alira's evil counterpart and will be trying to recruit the Chosen Ones to the dark side (or kill them). Not sure how they're gonna get us out of the classroom just yet, though.
She's actually right though, Ape. Trust me on this, Virginia's not that much more urban than Ohio but we do have some fairly good-sized cities with passable club scenes here. Most of the clubs I frequent you're more likely to find black lipstick than neon green, though. Gotta make a distinction between goths and ravers.
"Poetry doesn't have to be complex to be good," Alira said. "Some of the best poems are more emotionally satisfying than they are technically proficient." She gathered from the context in which the author's name was used that this Frost guy was rather famous. She didn't comment on that, though, since a detailed discussion about a famous person she had never heard of was bound to make her look stupid.
The young man's nervousness hadn't escaped her, but she took it for something else. Most soldiers weren't very good in social situations, due to the fact that other people were usually targets for them. She was still confused enough by the leather to think he was a warrior, and assumed that was the reason his conversational skills needed polishing.
Alira watched as Rick picked up a book and started reading. A Boy's Will was the title. She didn't recognize it, but that was par for the course in this world... everything was new to her here. "Is that book any good?" she asked him in a low voice. She was used to being fairly well-read, but there wasn't a lot of good literature on this side of the portal.
Banks still hadn't regained his composure, and was basically just letting his students read for now. Some of them chose to engage in conversation instead, and a particularly lively game of Magic: The Gathering got underway at the back of the classroom. He made no attempt to stop any of this. Something odd was going on, and he was too busy trying to put his finger on what it was to worry about whether his students were actually learning anything.
Alira sensed the heat coming from behind her, and tensed for a physical confrontation. She started gathering her power, in preparation to summon her daggers. But then she sensed the warrior calming down, and relaxed back in her seat. Her nose wrinkled, and she quickly pinpointed the source of the alcohol. None of the humans would be able to smell it, but Elves had heightened senses. She glanced over at the girl with the pink hair and gave her a wink, as if to say 'Your secret's safe with me'.
Professor Banks let the "whatever" hang in the air without responding to it. Instead, he shuffled the papers on his desk nervously. He had just admitted to his class that he had a criminal record, which was probably not a good thing. His train of thought was interrupted by a metallic clang as a ridiculously heavy silver paperweight -- one of the more hideous gifts his mother, whose tastes ran toward the kitschy, had sent him -- was knocked off the desk accidentally and clattered to the floor. He bent to retrieve it, and rolled his eyes when he saw that the girl who had ended the argument with Rick wasn't wearing panties. "Oh, for f**k's sake," he muttered under his breath. His students got weirder every year.