❝𝐌𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝.❞
When brilliant and darkly eccentric Saturday Addams gets expelled from his High School because of a deliciously wicked prank, his parents ship him off to Nevermore Ac...
"Passes to Jericho are a privilege, not a right." returns Mr. Thornhill in his low voice. "It's a brisk 25-minute walk, or there's a shuttle on the weekends. The locals are a tad bit wary about Nevermore, so please don't go making any waves, or perpetuating any outcast stereotypes." He says seriously. "That means keep your claws to yourself," he looks warningly at Ethan. "and no smothering people in their sleep." he glances at Saturday through his wide rimmed, turquoise glasses.
"Are we clear?" he questions to two unmoving figures.
"Great talk." he says as he chuckles lowly.
He opens the door, waves a little goodbye and closes the door softly behind him.
☟☟☟
The next morning, the sky beamed a bright baby blue and Saturday's annoyance only grew.
Foils clattered in the great fencing hall.
Saturday stalks in, in a fully black fencing costume, his annoyance further increased by the appearance of his maid, who was standing submissively by the door, waiting.
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Ever since he was little, he had gotten used to his parents forcing his maid upon him.
He glanced at her coldly, then glanced away. She didn't dare look at him, keeping her head low as always.
He walks past Xaviera Thorpe, who stopped her fencing to look at him, the severed hand peeking out at him from underneath a bench.
A fencer grunts in frustration, the hand quickly scuttles back into hiding.
The fencer grunts again as he is smashed to the floor, the champion reigning above him with his sword raised.
"Coach, Coach, he tripped me." says the loser frantically.
Saturday stops near the tall and lean black boy and, he admits that he was taller, though only slightly, than himself.
"It was a clean strike, Rowan." returns the coach, reprimanding. He had a sultry, French accent, golden brown short hair, baby blue eyes and a tall lean, figure.
"Maybe if you whined less and practiced more, you wouldn't suck." scoffs Bianco Barclay. "Seriously, Coach, when am I gonna get real competition?" he questions as the other boy, Rowan, hurriedly gets up.
The coach nonchalantly holds up Rowan's glasses which the boy hurriedly grabs.
"Anyone else want to challenge me?" challenges Bianco.
"I do." replies Saturday loudly and coldly, Xaviera still looking at him with her helmet off.
"Ohhhh, you must be the psychopath they let in." he says arrogantly, smirking as Rowan watches in the background.
"And you must be the self-appointed King."
Bianco nods while still smirking.
He glances at Misaki in the corner. "Pretty little thing you got there, lend her to me for a bit will you?" he asks arrogantly.
