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Rain pours down, turning maroon around his feet. His his shifting rapidly between colors, his hair doing the same. Cassius's face is blank as he kneels next to her. A smile on her face as she opens her mouth, her bell like voice chiming yet the words never reach his ears. Replaced by a horrible screeching, Cassius startles awake. Groaning he runs a hand through his hair, its colors turned a chestnut brown and his eyes a soft green. Sitting up he huffs and glares at his hair, "Damn thing always messes with me..." he says softly as he focuses his hair back to its deep black color and his eyes to a soft silver. His preferred look that has never seemed to fail him, sitting up he looks at the small bedroom for what will be the last time in weeks if the letter on his cherry nightstand had anything to say about it. Taking the letters in his hand he holds it tightly, taking a deep breath he puts on his usual mask of indifference, a weapon to be worn on his quest. "I will make the black family great as it used to be." Repeating the vow he made one night when he learned of his origins. Getting up from the green quilted bed he gets ready for the day.
Cassius looks at his mother and father. Both look tired but excited for him, he holds back his emotions as he is hugged tightly by both. Gently hugging them both back he looks at his father, both nodding to eachother before he heads onto the train. Entering he goes towards the middle row of compartments, setting his trunk by the far wall (not bothering with putting it on the rack) he relaxes into the plush seats. The train being a luxury he will willing say he wants to keep. Glancing out the window he looks at the families coming and going. One does catch his eye, a group of five. An old man who was in an odd military like coat and pants set up, he and the man walking behind him where tall, able to easily see over everyone. The old man had a pipe in his mouth, his salt and pepper hair contrasted by deep blue eyes, he can't help but compair it to the other mans chestnut brown hair and lighter blue eyes. The woman next to him was a blond woman, her hair was in a overzealous updo, in his opinion, only to be outshines by the deep contrasting in her almost blackish blue eyes. Between them all three was two girls who looked the same age. One was a dishwater blond who's appearance was an attempt to only be a fancy ass clown. Her attempt to look doll like was pitiful, however it was nothing like the atrocious look of the girl beside her. The white haired girl had to be already nearing 6 feet, her hair done up in a ponytail with rainbow star pins, and her eyes hidden behind hippy sunglasses with an iridescent shine to them. Her bright yellow hoodie was paired with red ripped jeans, leading down to gold trainers. Her lips where painted with a bright shade of jade, which he can only assume is matched with her eyes. He groans and rubs his eyes, the colors where not a bad combination in moderation, but this girl took it to a fucking thousand and made sure her color pallet was eye destroying. He rolls down his window shades to protect what little eyesight he could from the horrifying site. Taking out his potion book he starts to read it diligently, his first step to remodeling his family started now. He takes his notebooks and starts to write in it. Making sure he takes several notes of differences between slicing and dicing when the door to his cabin open. Looking up he sees the girl from earlier but artworks are caught in his throat by her Ruby red eyes. They simmered in the light like gems. "Yo? This space taken? It seem that-" she stops as he changes his eye color to match hers. Blinking she backs up and just says, "Nope. Fuck that." Closing the door he scoffs at her language. "She was most likely raised in a barn." He mutters going back to his notes quickly.
The white haired girl hums as the walks down to a more abandoned car, ignoring the quiet she knocks on the only door at the end of the train, the others being full. "Helllo? Knock knock? No one in here is an eye stealer right?" Not hearing a response she huffs and enters looking around. The seats look untouched in years, a small layer of dust covering everything. Shrugging she plops onto the train seat and sneezes at the dust. "Geeze they really hate cleaning huh?" She sniffs and scans the room, her fox backpack sitting next to her. She looks at the carving in the wall of the train and hums. "Huh, TMR? Who could you have been, probably something stupid like Theodore Marshel Rodrick." She takes one of her hair pins and with a flick of her wrist it transfigures to a cherry wood wand with thestral hair, the initials of FSD are carved above TRM with a sleeping fox laying on top. "Their, see Mr. Theodore. This is how you make your mark and make it memorable. Hm... now to plan my next outfit, obviously can't let that dumbassdoor topping me at the feast." She mutters opening her bag and starts shifting through it happily.