It was a testament to her skill. Somehow, by her very presence, Oliver had managed to transform the area surrounding the establishment of the Enigma club into a tense standoff. The boy serving as the new club administrator was an innocent bystander, oblivious to the danger. Oliver herself was the hero. John was the cunning observer, Jamie the inventor, Alec the sexy sidekick/love interest, and Frank was the dashing, brave hero ready to kick some ass.
All in all? It just served to piss Frank off.
“What do you want now?” Frank sniffed dismissively.
“Well, I should think that much is rather obvious,” Oliver said with a quirked eyebrow. Suddenly, she extended a dramatic finger and pointed at them. “You need a fifth member, and I’m offering my services! However, I feel a trade is in order, don’t you?”
“Now you’re talking my language,” John said, rubbing his… Rather, her hands with obvious glee. “What sort of trade did you have in mind?”
“A mutually beneficial one, I think!” Oliver said, wagging her finger. “Tell me, good sir! Does the Enigma club fulfill the requirements for a high arts club?”
“Technically not,” the handsome young man said. “It seems like more of a social club than high arts.”
“In which case,” Oliver said triumphantly. “You will need to join the theatrical club. Jamie can make props, John can coach or direct, Frank is perfect for the - ahem - muscleman roles, and dear, sweet Alec can even pull off a convincing girl should we ever need one.”
“While I suppose you can be the rising star!” Frank yelled, rolling her eyes and tapping her feet impatiently. “Forget it, pal! We’ll find someone else, and then -”
A small hand tugged on Frank’s shirt. She turned around and looked into the irresistible doe eyes of her roommate. If it came down to it, on a particularly bad day Frank’s legs could kick right through steel. Right now, they couldn’t kick through butter. It felt like her heart was about to burst.
“Please, Frank!” Alec said, and to those in the know it was easy to see what was swimming through her head. Images of the dresses that she could wear, in public. A real chance to actually be girly, behave like a girl and have absolutely nobody care a whit. “Let’s join the theatrical club!” A pair of batted eyes, and Frank could barely even lift her legs never mind kick through anything with them. All she could think about was how good it felt yesterday whenever she said that word. All she had to do was say it again, right here, and they could experience it again. It was intoxicating, and so easy to experience whenever she wanted.
But that would be weak, and if Frank was anything at all it was never, ever weak! Still. It was dishonourable to deny defeat when it was staring you in the face, and Alec’s face was just too cute to deny.
“Okay, fine!” Frank harrumphed. “Have it your way!”
“Gotta remember that trick,” John mumbled under her breath. “Could come in handy someday.” Jamie nodded, though all present got the feeling she didn’t even know what John was talking about.
“I’m glad that you’ve come to your senses,” Oliver said, pushing right through the two of them and accidentally on purpose goosing them both as she went by. The boy at the desk didn’t seem to notice. “Since we’re all in the theatrical club, it offers us the chance to arrange meetings far more efficiently.”
“Yeah. Sure. Whatever,” Frank groused while Oliver signed the paper. “Though now that I think about it, don’t you guys have to join a sports club too?”
“Yes, you do!” the boy at the counter enthusiastically said. “Healthy mind, healthy body, healthy soul. Hope you guys don’t mind working up a sweat, ’cause the sports clubs will make every attempt to run you ragged. You might not thank them for it now, but you’ll come away healthier, stronger and with much more stamina.”
Frank twitched a little and looked around at the other four girls pretending to be guys. From what she’d seen yesterday, they didn’t have all that much trouble with stamina. Though there was a niggling part of her that really wanted to put them to the test.
“Now, let’s see!” the boy said. “We got the club name. Enigma club. All five of you have signed… All we need now is a member of faculty to sponsor you, and you’re off!”
“You gotta be kidding!” Frank yelled. “We need a sponsor, too? Why weren’t we told that sooner?!”
“What my colleague means to say,” John interrupted, “is that it is hardly likely we will be able to provide a sponsor when we don’t even know any of the staff members. It is therefore reasonable to assume that we shall have a time frame to operate within, and what are you doing with your fingers?”
What indeed. The boy had started out by leaning on one hand, while holding out the other with all fingers outstretched. His thumb bent into his palm, then a few moments later the pinky joined it, then the ring finger, then the middle finger, and finally the index began to bend -
“I’ll do it!” yelled a pair of breasts that hit Frank’s eye level, then shortly thereafter the rest of her face. “Whatever your club is! I’ll do it!” the voice continued. “Whoops! Sorry, young man! I didn’t see you there!”
“Ish ohay!” Frank said, giving a thumbs up while two pairs of hands yanked at her shoulders while two other voices laughed uproariously behind her. She was going to <i>murder</i> John and Oliver by the end of the week. First things first. Getting herself free of this ridiculous cleavage. And a one - Two - Three!
“Good morning, Miss Cavendish,” the boy said, seeming uncharacteristically bored by the presence of a woman that was - let’s be blunt - tall, stacked and hotter than the sun. Sure, she was wearing pretty thick glasses, but if anything they seemed to draw more attention to her other features. “Suffocate many first years today?”
“Oh, don’t be a silly billy, Billy!” the woman - now named as Miss Cavendish - replied, patting the boy on the head. He flinched a little, like a rabid bear was holding a bouquet of flowers towards him. “I’m clumsy,” she said, adjusting her glasses and striking a triumphant pose, “But I’m not <i>that</i> clumsy!”
A prevailing sense of doom settled over the five girls. Well, four of them. Jamie was oblivious - as they were left wondering just what the hell they had gotten themselves into.
<hr>
Simon strode through the crowd of delectable morsels like a shark pretending to be a guppy. That is to say, not very well and with an intention that couldn’t possibly be any more obvious. Still. This particular shark had a pretty good siren’s song to sing, and she’d already picked out more than one potential target for a little fun. Which could easily lead into a lot of fun. From there, who could say?
It was just such a shame that Oliver had disappeared that morning. The poor dear was obviously so very shy. Needed to come out of his shell a little. Give her ten minutes, some hot wax, a bag of Skittles and a length of hollow pipe, and that shell - Why, it would be nothing more than dust on the wind!
“You there!” a second year declared, suddenly seizing hold of Simon’s arm. My, my! How very eager! She liked that. “Join us! Please! Join the swim club!”
“No, wait!” another boy yelled, seizing her other arm and trying to pull her in another direction. “Join the gymnastics club! Please!”
“Yeah, right! As if someone like this wants to be seen in one of your daft, tight-fitting leotards!”
“As if he wants to be seen in your swim trunks!”
Oh, what fun it was. Having two men fight for her affections. Alas, she was not the type to lead men on a road to nothing, so she wriggled free from both of their grips, then spun around to look them both in the eye. Such handsome young men. So well built. “So you want me to join your clubs?” Simon said with a twinkle in her eye. “I wonder, whatever can you do to make it worth my while?”
<hr>
In a rather unusual turn, Reggie was sitting on her bed in a decidedly subdued mood. For reasons unrelated to her brother. While she was intending to spend the day screwing around with Patrick, playing a few headgames with that uptight smartass, she had noticed something kinda weird.
She didn’t seem to have a roomie. The bed didn’t look like it had been slept in. There were no other clothes anywhere, or - Well, any sign that anyone else was in the room at all. Not in either bathroom or anywhere else.
Yet there was another name attached to the room. A Japanese name. Hisoka Okumura. Reggie scowled in confusion. Something about this was bothering her. Where the hell was her roomie? Late arrival? That had been her first guess, but reception indicated that Hisoka had been among the first to arrive! What the hell was going on here?!
“Aaaachoo!” went the wall.
“Bless you,” Reggie said. Then, slowly, it dawned on her what just happened and she walked over to the portion of sneezing wall and stared at it, really, really hard. “Would you like a tissue, mister wall?” she sweetly asked.
“No thank you,” the wall said with a great big sniff. “I’m good. I mean… Uh… Forget I said anything! Super special ninja amnesia dust! Go!”
A blast of white powder hit Reggie in the face, causing her to stumble back, shaking her head. She grabbed at the wall, yanked it away, and -
“Huh?” she asked, blinking. “What was I doing? Hey! Who are you and what are you doing in my room?!”
It was a Japanese man, clad head to toe in loose-fitting black clothes. Only the face was uncovered, and he seemed to be clutching onto the tattered remains of a wireframe which just so happened to have an exact duplicate of the wall on it. After a moment, the boy began to furiously blush and shake in place. He reached into a bag. “Super special ninja amnesia dust! Go!” he declared, then stared at his hand in disbelief. “Oh no! I used all the amnesia dust in that last attack! Stupid Hisoka! Be more careful! Must escape!”
But there was no escape to be had for Hisoka Okumura. Now, it was Reggie’s turn to start trembling. Hisoka began to back away from her, but it was a futile gesture and far, far too late. No amount of ninja reflexes could save him now. No amount of self defense could be sufficient. Because, with a mighty cry of “So cute!” Reggie pounced upon her roomie, pinning him to the floor and embracing him with the most enthusiastic glomp the campus had hitherto encountered.
“I am captured by an enemy agent!” Hisoka screeched. “I must endure the torment of her soft, yielding flesh being pressed against mine! She will not break me! I will not allow it!”
“… Hold on, wait a minute. Back up here,” Reggie said, still maintaining her tight grip on the adorable wannabe ninja like he was a stuffed toy. “You know I’m a girl? How?”
“Enemy agent is attempting interrogation! I shall not reveal my secrets! Must not reveal fact I saw her change, lest she hit me very hard! Ow! Yes, just like that! OW!”
Ooh! The nerve of this boy! The only man that she ever wanted to see her in a state of undress was certainly not some creepy Japanese ninja boy! The pervert! If he thought he was getting away with this…
Squeeze.
“Ah!” Reggie said. Her anger gave way towards a new set of emotions, in particular returning to rising curiosity. “I see how it is. You’re not a creepy ninja <b>boy</b> at all, are you?”
“Ack!” the would-be boy squacked. “The enemy agent is cunning and sharp! Escape is now my top priority! But her grip! It is as tight as her skin is soft, as inescapable as it is peculiarly comforting!”
“Shut up for a moment,” Reggie sharply said. “You’ve got some explaining to do… Or would you prefer it if I brought you before the faculty and revealed your true gender for all to see?”
- Simon seduces the two older boys, and considers her plans for the contest.
- A little more detail on Reggie’s roomie, please!
- Hisoka is able to escape Reggie’s clutches for the time being.
- The Enigma club gets to know their sponsor a bit better.
- Other characters join clubs.
- Something else
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