Hi, my name is Max Kaline.
I'm a hunter. More specifically, I'm what's known as a 'Fae Hunter'. I hunt down and kill faeries.
One late morning, the cyan scratches of a blue sky were being poked and prodded at by a towering center for education.
"So, this is it." A youthful teenager, dawning striking and wavy hair, set foot upon a concrete sidewalk. "This is the school for hunters." Walking further along the concrete path, which led to a set of two doors, this particular and young male was stopped by a second figure.
"Who are you?" this other individual stood next to the doors, his arms crossed over a white dress-shirt.
"I'm... Maximus. Maximus D. Kaline, but you can just call me Max." the adolescent boy with the wavy hair stood with an excellent posture, setting his arms beside his brightly olive-colored jacket. With a smile, Max brushed a stray hair behind his left ear.
"I see. Well then. The name's Chimner. Kyle Chimner. And I'm tough on new kids. Perhaps it's because I like to give newbies a hard time so they can get better with having a fire under their ass and all... or perhaps I'm just a sadist. A calculating sadist." Kyle, a bespectacled and blonde student, stood near a pot of flowers as he uncrossed his arms. "You're early to your first day of school, newbie. That's a good habit to start with. Also, jeez. That's a wildly stupid color to dye your hair."
Max blushed, quickly grabbing at the side of his red and long locks. "What? Oh, this. I was... born with it." Still frozen in stance over the hardened asphalt, Max never broke eye contact with Kyle.
"Well. That's impressive." Kyle, revealing a heavily enriched and silver watch with a blue light and metallic ring around it, slipped a very plain backpack off his shoulder. "I remember hearing a dirty myth about red-headed kids, once. Parents must've had unclean sex or-"
"Shut up. Don't mention my parents." Once possessing a friendly and timid demeanor, Max Kaline was suddenly now peeved. His knuckles turned purple as both fists were clenched in response to Kyle's comment.
"Hmph. You just told an upper-classman to shut themselves up. Pretty bold of you, newbie. I like that. You've got spunk."
Max turned his head to the side, staring at the pot of purple, blue, and yellow flowers. "I- uh. I didn't think I'd get so emotionally compromised on my first day here. Uh. My apologies." His burgundy bangs falling over his eyes, the young Kaline stole another look at Kyle's hairy wrist. "If it's not too intrusive to ask, may I know where you got your watch?"
"Shut up, newbie. Don't mention my parents." Kyle shook his head.
"Oh. Uh. Oh. So your watch has something to do with your parents too? Uh. Sorry."
"Nope. I'm just making fun of you."
"Oh." Max took in a deep breath as the gaze of his eye grew. This guy... is pretty rude.
Kyle, raspily cracking up, took out a piece of parchment from his potato-colored backpack. "Do you have your schedule on you? I'd like to escort you to your first class of the day. Help you find it and all."
"Sure!" Max took out a crumbled sheet of paper from the pocket of his deep-blue jeans.
"Jeez. Your poor schedule."
"I mean... I didn't think to bring a backpack. This is a school for combat, right? Sounded sporty so... I imagined we'd be in locker rooms a lot. Also, why are you helping me? I thought you 'wanted to give the new kids a hard time' or something."
"I guess you won't need a backpack very much. That's true. And... because I know that new kids have difficulty finding their classes in a new environment and I don't want you to be having a hard time with that because I want to be the one to give you a hard time, newbie. Make sense? Now, let's see- oh! You have Ms. Meloncrop." Kyle stretched Max's paper out, squinting his eyes through the frames of his glasses.
"That's a name if there ever was one." Max whistled, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
"You're telling me. Anyway. I'm in that class this year too. Along with... Natalie Carwell."
"Natalie Carwell. I didn't stutter."
"Who... is that?"
"Only the most beautiful girl here. She's gained a slight reputation which lends her the name, 'The Screaming Petunia'."
Max stepped back, trying to stifle a chuckle as his lips went up regardless. "The 'Screaming Petunia'?"
"Yes. The 'Screaming Petunia'."
"Because her way of winning against tenacious opponents is being really fucking loud." Kyle closed his eyes as he spoke. "You have to see it with your own eyes, man. Those emeralds of yours will be put to the test trying to watch people duel in the arena."
"Emeralds?" Max blushed. "That's pretty... complimentary of you to say, Kyle."
"Hmph. I fuckin' hate emeralds."
"Oh." Max slumped his shoulders, rolling his eyes. "Of course you do."
Kyle took in a deep breath, then signaled for Max to follow behind him as the two students walked into the school.
"You know, I like your fashion sense... even if it is a bit overdone. Perhaps very overdone." Kyle spoke up again, his larynx going down and up. "You're almost spiffy. Green jacket, white shirt with buttons, blue jeans... and that crimson hair! Wait a minute. Do you ever have the decency to fuckin' match? Every color on you is extremely different." He cackled raspily again as he sped down a hall which had many windows.
"Oh yeah?" Max bit his bottom lip. "Well, your backpack has too many dumb zippers!"
Kyle whipped his head around. "You can never have enough zippers, newbie."
Max shook his head slowly as he made it into Ms. Meloncrop's room. Man, this guy is so annoying.
As Kyle stood beside him, the two young men noticed a buxom girl. Wearing a form-fitting and grapefruit-shaded dress with a rosy necklace, the blonde student approached them. Her harshly fruitful colors would've assisted her greatly in standing out amongst the crowd, but the lack of a very populated room had been a stark reality anyway. Her eyes, an extremely light-blue, gazed upon Max's face.
"Kyle? Who's this?" The girl's gaze, eyes stuck statically in focus, never fell away from Max.
"This is Max. He's a new student here." Kyle pointed to Max, shrugging.
The stares of all four kids practically burned into Max's skin. He tried not to make eye contact with any one of them.
Skid marks rested on the vanilla floor as the ceiling of the classroom had been painted to form a dark blue. Outside air could only be accustomed inside through a small window which was stamped near a cluttered corner.
"You never escort new kids to their first class of the day unless... you see potential in them." The girl inhaled slowly. "Wow. I'm impressed. Well, hi Max. My name is Natalie Carwell." The young woman put her hand out for Max to shake.
"Hi." Max shook her hand. "I'm Maximus D. Kaline."
"What's the 'D' stand for?" a fourth voice entered the conversation.
An enormous afro rustled from the back of the classroom. The figure was so hidden by a laptop that Max almost didn't see it when he came in. With a freckled face to contrast the extremely wiry hair, the boy introduced himself by slowly getting up from his desk. He had such bad posture that at first Max thought he didn't even have a chest.
"My name's Tony. Tony the Hunter. One day, I wanna make my own cereal company. In the meantime, though, I wanna get good at being a hunter."
Max nodded, furrowing his brow. "A respectable goal-"
"Man, I can just tell that we're all gonna be good friends soon enough." Natalie smiled, clasping her hands together.
"Uh. It seemed to me like you already knew Kyle, though. Ha." Max scratched the back of his head awkwardly, trying to pass a forced smile.
"I did." Natalie nodded, unfolding her hands. "But not Tony... nor you."
"Ah. Yup. That'll do it then." Max sighed.
Kyle looked to the entrance of the classroom, where he and Max had previously entered, with a charging zeal. "Well... what are we waiting for? Titanium-Corps Academy is a combat school. And newsflash, newbie, there are really only four kids in this class. What you're seeing right now is what you're gonna get. It shouldn't be a surprise that not many kids go to combat schools. In fact, all the classes here are only ever about a handful big. Now. Let's not waste any time. I wanna go to the arena already."
"Uh? Already?" Max turned awkwardly, his carmine-hued hair whipping about.
"Yeah, I'm with Max on this one, actually. Where's Ms. Meloncrop?" Tony cowered back towards his seat.
"In the arena, you doofus." Kyle crossed his arms and scowled down Tony through his glasses. "You aren't a new student. I thought you'd know by now. Teachers like to begin classes in the arena, not even commencing any kind of 'role-call' in their classes prior."
"Well I guess that'd make sense but I don't know." Tony shook a little. "All my teachers last year never did that. Maybe Ms. Meloncrop is just... the slightest bit impulsive."
Kyle pushed the bridge of his glasses up his nose. "I'm a little impulsive from time to time. And I say we should head to the arena. I wanna mess with those Cobalt Katanas again. Or how about the Bauxite Guns. Maybe break something with a Mistral Shield. You boys ready for the thrill of a lifetime?"
Max was apprehensive at first, looking to Tony. In the next moment, however, his lips turned to a toothy smile as he faced Kyle. "Yeah. I guess I'm ready. I came to this school for a reason, after all."
"I like that kind of talk, Max. You're finally starting to impress me, newbie. Mind me asking what that reason is?" Kyle patted his new classmate on the back.
"To... avenge my parents."