Knight on a Watchtower[[Open]]

[Date Masamune™]

There the boy sat, trench coat tail flapping in the wind. He sat at the edge of the school's rooftop. His dark blue hair would flow towards the left as he stared down at the courtyard. The people down below all doing their own things. They looked like ants. It had been oh so long ago that he had gone to this school. The boy wondered if he would still be as strong as most people around here. When he had left 552. The boy had peaked. There was no way for him to get even stronger than he was if he stayed over there. And strength... strength was important in this world.

But what happened if one forgot the reason that they required strength? What happened when forgot the reason that they fought anymore? A fallen knight that couldn't quite figure out how to pick himself up. He had lost his motivation. He couldn't remember his inspiration. He didn't know what to fight for anymore. So the boy had moved all the way over here. Away from the person he cherished the most, under the falsified pretenses that he needed to watch over his idiot apprentice.

But what good would a fallen knight do to watch over something so important?

[Jayr Byrne]

The Queen

Resemblance of such had been in her dreams since she were a girl, the youthful imagery of the pretty princess in pink and all sorts of regal colors not to mention the jewelry attached. It wasn't until she'd come of age that she began to understand the falsehoods to that perspective of life, the fact that often it was the Queen or Princess that were farthest from reality.

It'd come to Jayr on a mid-fall's afternoon; like much other days she'd been fawned over with the wool about her eyes as she did so, arrogantly prophesied as a goddess by many but she'd never understood the hardships of others. When she'd turned to look about at her young Friend Jezabelle who'd lived her life by the cloak, brandished and disregarded from society until she died from it. Not merely just the blade that'd deepened into her throat but the absence of those who could have resisted such thoughts to be resonating in her mind.

It'd been but six years since that occurrence and still the guilt built itself within her. Jays was determined to assure that those around her would come first. Such Jaded presences wouldn't absolve her deeds, certainly the ideals of Marie Antoinette wouldn't be her way of life.

Regardless as Jayr progressed about her day; a pair of shredded jeans matched with a sweet elegant low cut white top, she'd enter the residence of her new school somewhat estranged by the familiarity of it. While truthfully she'd not come across any of those out for obsessive power she'd have bartered that she'd have her opportunity here or there, but more importantly like before she sought to change things.

Ambition be her demise but it was too far sewn.

Ambling up the front walkway of the courtyard Jayr would stop hesitating but a moment as her gaze cast over towards a group of foul mannered boys. She could tell both by their attire and simply by the gawking expressions. Quickly averted towards an innocent boy who was rather feeble by comparison.

"Hey tard!" Without sense they knocked him to the flat of his back, snatching up the boy's bag and hoisting it above their grasps.

Instantaneously Jayr's grip would relinquish on her own books straddled behind her entrenched arms. The binding grasp also dropping her purse slipping right from her shoulder to clatter to the floor. Almost in a jogging sense Jayr would lunge across the yard, her pace graceful yet hurried in a sense.

"Stop It!" A commanding and unintimidated tone emitted as she went.