A Path to the Unknown

[Richard Stone]

Richard Stone was probably a little more excited then he should be that it was the first day of classes, but that was just him. He loved his job, and today would be the day he would get to meet his new students and welcome back those who were returning from the year before.

Placing his briefcase down on the desk at the front of the room, he opened the case and took out a stack of booklets. He then walked around the room and placed a booklet on each of the tables. The previous year he had the desks sitting in single lines. This year though, he had put the desks in pairs, making it easier for the students to sit beside their friend and share ideas quietly should they feel the need - though he would move people if he felt that they would work better sitting apart.

Once there was something on each of the desks, he walked to the front and took the box that held his collection of whiteboard markers and walked over to the boards. Sliding the white board across so that it covered the blackboard, he opened the box and took out the blue pen and wrote Mr Stone in the top left corner in large block letters. Putting that pen away, he pulled out the black pen and wrote Creative Writing in a neat - yet large - cursive script. Putting the cap back on the pen, he left the box on the tray at the bottom of the board and walked over to sit at his desk.

He welcomed each student as they entered the room and invited them to find a seat, not having a problem if any of them needed to approach him and talk about something. When the tardy bell sounded he rose to his feet, walked to stand in front of the board and address the class. "First of all, welcome to English Lit, I am Mr Stone. I'm not going to make you play silly games to get to know each other's names, I am however going to go over the rules: Only one person is to speak at a time. There are no stupid questions or answers. If you disagree with what someone else says, I'm open for debates, but you will not talk over anyone else." He raised his eyebrows as he looked around. "If I ask you to move seats, you will do so without argument. If there is an argument, you will not be allowed to sit with the person you are being moved from."

He held up a booklet like what was on their tables. "If you haven't already, please have a look through the booklet on your table. You will find that it is filled with pictures of pathways. Mysteriously beautiful paths can be made of cobblestone, brick, dirt, flowers, or just about anything. What makes a path uniquely special has nothing to do with its makeup or location, instead it’s a mixture of ingredients that create the most magical pathways you can walk.

"When you find the path of your dreams, it might lead to something magnificent, or something rather frightening as well. A pretty pathway can inspire thought provoking ideas, or simply let your mind rest and relax, away from the nonstop beeping computers and cell phones." He paused to allow his words to sink in. "Your job today is to look through those pictures and to choose a path that you would like to walk down. And then you're going to spend the next couple of weeks writing a short story that will be between 1,000 and 7,500 words long." He waited for any comments and then continued. "You don't have to share your completed story with anyone but me, and we'll use class time to jot down ideas and things like that. Are there any questions?" Again he paused. "You can get started, feel free to bounce ideas off the person beside you, but please keep the noise level down to what you would use in a library."

Roll Call:
Cara-Jean Kitchi
Elizabeth Toman
@emma
@fitzwilliam
Martijn van der Berg
@samantha
Serenity Oliver
Thomas Oliver

OOC: The pictures came from here

[Cara-Jean Kitchi]

Cara pressed her lips together as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, sure that she had covered everything that needed to be covered, though there was nothing she could do to help relieve the throbbing in her temples... well, there was always the choice to go and see the nurse, but she didn't do painkillers.

Picking up her satchel, which she knew held everything she needed as she had only packed it that morning before she'd gone to gymnastics. She was about to put the strap over her shoulder, and only just managed to stop herself from doing it, and instead held the strap in both hands.

Leaving the House, she followed the rest of the students into the academic building, allowing herself to get lost in the wave of students who were both eager and reluctant to get to class. Slipping into the English Literature classroom, she bowed her head toward the man sitting behind his desk and after a quick look around the room, she walked over to the desk at the front of the room closest to the wall, hoping against hope that isolating herself so much would give others the idea that she didn't want company.

Looking at the booklet on her table, she picked it up and placed it on the desk beside hers, she would look at it when her desk was ready for work. Then she pulled her folder, pencil-tin and glasses case from her bag, and began to set her desk up; after putting the glasses on the case went to the top left corner, pencil tin was opened and she removed her black, blue and red pens, along with writing pencil and eraser, and these were laid neatly at the top centre, while the tin was placed top right. Her folder sat centred in the desk, and opening it, she dated the top of the first page. Glancing at the board, she also wrote down the teacher's name - as she had taken language arts the previous year - and wrote Creative Writing at the top of the page in her neat and precise handwriting. Placing the black pen she had been using back into its spot at the top of the desk, she returned her attention to the booklet. While she was curious to see what was inside, she placed it closed on the folder.

Listening to the man's introduction, she released a breath at the news that he wasn't going to make them play games to get to know everyone. She listened as he explained their assignment and she finally opened the booklet, looking at the pictures that greeted her. She flipped through the pages until she finally settled on a path that could be stepping stones up a slope, native flora on either side of the path, and the path itself was scattered with blossoms.

[Elizabeth Toman]

Libby shrugged into her denim jacket, brushing her hands down the skinny jeans she was wearing. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and fluffed her hair, pleased with her make-up. Leaving the bathroom, she grabbed her backpack and floated out of the room. She joined the crowd of students making their way to their respective class, pushing her way past anyone who didn't move fast enough at her cleared throat.

Walking into the room she pretty much ignore the teacher as she walked over to the table in the middle of the room and sat down as though she owned the place. She pulled out the things she needed from her bag and ignored the booklet that had already been on the table.

She rolled her eyes as Mr Stone got the class started. "God, give me home-schooling any day." She muttered as she pulled the booklet toward her, opened it to the last page and looked at the picture of a pathway under the blossoming trees. "It'll do." She couldn't be bothered actually looking through the book, so it was pretty much that the first picture would do. She blew out a breath, fluttering a strand of hair out of her face as she picked up and pen and began to jot down the first things that came to mind when she looked at the picture.

[Serenity Oliver]

Serenity couldn't have been happier that classes were back up and running. She lived for learning new things, for extending her knowledge and all that - something that she used to be able to do outside of school when they were being taught by their parents, but now she was teaching herself it wasn't as easy.

With her blonde hair pulled back into a half ponytail, she wore a black dress that had a bird and floral print and a thin pink belt around her small waist. The dress fell down to mid-thigh and on her feet she wore black pallet flats, her black and pink backpack rested over her shoulder as she made her way toward the academic building, and into the English classroom.

With a quick look around the room, she quickly spotted two of her fellow gymnasts; one who look like she wanted to melt into the wall beside her and the other who wanted everyone to notice her. With a small chuckle, she walked over to a table near the front of the room and sat down. Pulling her things out of her bag, she dumped them on the desk and began to look through the booklet on the desk, her mind already working on where the paths might lead - and not even knowing that that was the reason they were looking at them.

When the class started she sat up a little straighter when she found that what she had been envisioning was actually what they were going to do and she went back to looking through the pictures. They all looked so magickal and mystical that she knew it was going to be hard to make a decision. After she found herself returning to the same picture again and again: A path through a tunnel of trees that did end up looking like a round tunnel in the end - Like Alice through the rabbit hole - and decided that this would be the one she would use.

[Thomas Oliver]

Tommy looked at his hands as he made his way to the academic building, he still had grime around some of his nails, but he just couldn't get rid of it - which was really his own fault for not keeping track of the time when he was helping muck out - and after changing in a clean pair of jeans and a clean black shirt, he'd kind of run out of time to give his hands a complete scrub to make it to his English class before he was late. Seeing that there was still a tide of students funnelling into the building, he knew that he still had plenty of time to get there.

Walking into the classroom he gave the teacher a deep bow and then looked around the room as he straightened up. "Do you have to follow me everywhere?" He asked softly, doing his best to sound exasperated, as he stepped up to the desks that his sister was sitting at. He squeezed her shoulder as he walked past and chose to sit at a desk near the back of the room and slouched in the seat.

When the teacher addressed the class, only then was the teen's attention brought to the booklet that was on his desk - ok, so he was a slow on the uptake - and Tommy opened it, his reaction a lot like his sister's as he looked through the pictures. He finally settled on a path of broken rocks that led between moss-covered rocks and bare trees, a story already unravelling in his mind's eye, all he had to do was write down everything before a wind swept through the path and blew them away.

[Martijn van der Berg]

Tijn groaned as he glanced at his watch, tossing his pitchfork into the wheelbarrow and heading out to dump it one last time. As much as he looked forward to some of his classes, he couldn't seriously say that he wanted to be going to them right about now. After returning the barrow and fork to their proper place, he hurried to the tack room to grab some clean clothes, throwing on a blue and brown plaid button-up and a pair of dark jeans.

After he'd grabbed his backpack, Tijn headed out of the barn and towards the academic building, munching on a breakfast bar as he walked. He joined the students walking into the building and then made his way towards the English classroom, entering and giving a nod to the teacher before he spotted Cara. He walked over and settled in the seat next to the petite girl, smiling over at her, "Morning." After that, he turned to his own things, grabbing a notebook that he'd picked for the class and setting it on his desk before he picked up the booklet that had already been there, to flip through.

When Mr. Stone started talking, Tijn nodded briefly at the information that they wouldn't be playing 'get to meet people', although that didn't bother him too much. He knew Tommy from around the barns, and Cara of course, so that was enough for the moment. He could figure out the rest, who looked familiar as well, soon enough. When they were released to work on their assignments, Tijn nodded and turned back to the booklet, finally picking the autumn lane path, which had two dogs roaming along it. He could work with that!

[Richard Stone]

Richard was surprised when silence descended on the room as the students began to look through the pictures. He had hoped that they would create at least a little conversation between the students, but he was happy for them to work in silence as well. He then wondered if he should have music playing in the back ground - just softly mind you - so that they weren't working in silence, and nothing too loud that he would have to shout over the top of it. He would look at that for the next class though, perhaps put out a poll for the students, so they could have a say in the kind of music that was played?

When there were no questions on the assignment he arched an eyebrow and wondered if the students were even awake an listening to him. "Alright, I am hoping that you have at least picked a picture by now? You have until the end of this class to work on what you want to write about, and before you arrive for the next class, I at least want you to have the background of the story in process." He paused to allowed the words to sink in. "I realise that everyone write differently, an no everyone will know how their story is going to end before they start, but you will have some idea of the direction you want the story to go in, and that's what I want you to work out." He held his hands up in a peace offering. "Ok, ok, I'm going to be quiet now. If you have any questions though, I am here." He walked up to the board and began to write up everything the students needed to remember:

Length of story: 1,000 - 7,500 words
Must be G-rated (something you'd let your grandmother read)
Write up an outline of the story before the next class

[Cara-Jean Kitchi]

Cara visibly tensed up as someone approached her, but the person's voice registered before she made a moved to draw away and she relaxed again, or at least returned to as less tense as she had been before Martijn sat down beside her. "Morning." She replied, her voice a tiny whisper.

Once the introduction was over, Cara pressed her lips together as she studied the picture she had chosen to adapt into her story, and she began to jot down ideas half way down the page she had titled:

*Are the petals from the trees above the steps, or are they a trail left by another person?
*Will the main character of her story be a villain or hero?
*Is the main character escaping from danger or entering their version of utopia?
*Human or animal?
*Past, present, future, alternate reality?

Cara closed her eyes when she had nothing more than a bunch of questions, and she released a deep breath. Story writing wasn't one of her strong points as she had little to no imagination, and often struggled to put herself in someone else's shoes, and because she read almost no fictional novels - unless assigned for classwork - she couldn't even use what she had previously read to assist her story

She looked up at what the teacher was writing on the board and she quickly wrote this down at the top of the page as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth again. Yes, the man had said he was available for questions, but she didn't want to voice what was on her mind, as she refused to admit that didn't know how to write a story. As far as she was concerned, failure was not an option, and disclosing her shortcomings were a sign of failure in her books.

She opened the folder an took the sheet of paper she had been writing on and moved it to the left so that she could look at it while she tried to get an outline for her story down on the clean sheet of paper. She sat there for a few minutes, but nothing would come, and she clenched her teeth in frustration as she let the blue pen she was holding slip from her fingers and onto the paper.

[Elizabeth Toman]

Libby looked at the picture she was going to use for her story and tapped her pen on the paper in front of her as she tried to work out what she was going to write about. She released a slow breath when Mr Stone said they only had to have at least the outline written before the next class, though that did mean she'd have to have someidea of what she wanted to write about.

She returned her attention back to the picture and she could almost see it as a scene in the book of Black Beauty, of when Beauty spent his summer days in the orchard at Squire Gordon's property. She pressed her lips together as she nodded and began to think about what she could write about:

Child riding a pony to town, takes a turn down an unknown path that is lined with blossoming trees. She knows that she should turn back and head back to the road that she knows will take her to town, but when she turns, it's like she hasn't turned at all.

There was a part of her that almost wanted to use an almost Beauty and the Beast twist, but she wasn't too sure.

She read over what she had so far and nodded, now she just needed to get the story started, and she refused to start it with the words Once Upon a Time, because that was just too over done. She looked at up what Mr Stone had written on the board and she quickly jotted the information down under what she'd just written, chuckling at the G-rated bit, especially at the fact he'd added the word "grandmother". So rather than writing a story that was suitable for General audiences, they were writing one that was suited for Grandmother audiences?

[Serenity Oliver]

Serenity looked up as her brother spoke and she arched her eyebrows. "If you hadn't noticed, little brother, I was already seated before you even entered the room." She gave him a bright smile as he headed toward a table at the back of the room.

Once the teacher had fallen silent, she looked at the picture again and pursed her lips, scrunching her nose up in thought as she planned out the outline of her story. The picture did really look like the path led into a tunnel. Her first thoughts of Alice down the rabbit hole came back to mind, but she didn't want to go down that path - excuse the pun - but rather than a rabbit, what if it was a mouse hole? There were books about people transforming into wolves or bears. What if her story was a person who morphed into a mouse?

Bouncing the pen against the paper, she pulled her thoughts into order and then began to write.

Armonía was orphaned at birth - or at least that's what she was told. In truth though, her parents were the king and queen of Pontíkia (pontiki is mouse in Greek), and they abandoned their daughter on Earth to keep her safe.

She remains looking human until she begins to morph when she comes of age (14). On her sixteenth birthday she is discovered by the people her parents wanted to protect her from and so starts her journey to get away from them and she stumbles upon the pathway that will take her from Earth to Pontíkia and as she runs down the path, it really does get smaller and smaller as she transforms from human to mouse form...

Serenity looked down at what she had just written and couldn't help but chuckle away, she was going to have fun writing this story, she would just have to be careful to keep it within the word limit that Mr Stone wrote on the board.

[Thomas Oliver]

Tommy studied the picture that he was going to use for his story, and waited for the story to literally just walk of the page and begin to write itself - it happened in movies, why not in real life? He looked at his sister, and grinned when he say her deep in thought. "Keep it down up there." He hissed in a stage whisper - which wasn't really whispered. "I can hear the wheels grinding from back here!"

He went back to the picture and began to write out the first things that popped into his mind.

Group of martial artist teenagers, sent on their rite of passage journey and they stumble upon a broken path and find themselves chased by trolls and rock hoppers. Teens then have to work together to find out how to outsmart and out-pace their enemies by using fighting as their last possible form of defense...

He shrugged as he looked at what he'd written, it could work, he'd just need to work out how many teenagers there were going to be and if the ones he was writing about were the only ones sent out. There could have been more that had chosen to take another path from this group and then at the end they could join up again at the shrine they are heading toward.

He drummed out a silent beat on the desk with his fingers as he turned his attention to the board as Mr Stone started writing something down and he quickly grabbed his pen and messily jotted the notes down - at least he knew his mother would say it was messy, though he could read it just fine - and went back to thinking about his story. He pulled a face at what was writing on the board. He raised his pen in the air. "Yo, Mr S? Does the G-rated thing mean no blood and guts, Game of Thrones style, or just no x-rated material?"

[Martijn van der Berg]

Tijn noticed Cara's reaction to his appearance, but was even more surprised to see her visibly relaxing when she realized it was him. Grateful, at the same time, of course, since it appeared he hadn't overstepped his bounds after all.

When Mr. Stone kept talking about requirements and deadlines, Tijn copied them down dutifully before he started thinking about his own story. The dogs, or at least, the dark dog, looked like he was returning home from somewhere far-off, somewhere he'd struggled to come back from. He was intent on his goal, looking towards whoever had taken the photo, or rather, the person whose eyes they were viewing the scene through. His red friend was much less comfortable about where they were going, looking to him for reassurance.

But where had they been, and why? His thoughts were interrupted as he heard a soft noise from next to him and saw Cara's pen drop and roll. He took a moment to glance over what she'd written, guessing at which picture she'd been looking at by the petals reference, before speaking quietly, grinning, "The petals were dropped from the queen of nature, a deer-like creature whose antlers flower with the seasons. The fact that they're falling so early in the spring bodes trouble. The main character is a hero, looking to help the queen restore nature to full health. What they don't know yet is that it's because something important was captured and held by the villains, so once she learns that, she'll want to go and free it. It's set in an alternate universe, where nature has physical forms that can talk to humans." He shrugged, "Or any of the above, if it helps you with any starting point. Not much of a creative writer?"

[Cara-Jean Kitchi]

Cara placed her fingers over the pen to stop it's escape and pressed her lips together as it was obvious that she had disrupted the attention of the boy sitting next to her. A week ago, if asked if she would ever be comfortable with a boy sitting next to her, it would have been almost laughable, but she was comfortable in his presence, and this alone terrified her, but she would think of that later when she was alone and had time to think about her inner thoughts.

She looked at the picture and frowned as Martijn offered ideas, her frown deepened as she tried to visualise what he was saying as she wrote them down. "You look at the picture and see that?" She asked as she looked at him, her soft voice softer than normal, just because it was class time and they were asked to talk softly among each other.

She licked her lips as she shook her head. "I look at the picture and all I see is a very beautiful moment of time that some fortunate person has managed to capture with their camera." She caught the edge of her bottom lip between her teeth. "My creativity exists when I need to put a floor routine to music." She closed her eyes and turned her head away from him as she lowered it. "Creative writing? I don't do the whole fantasy thing. Thank you for the ideas though."