Chapter Text
chance
/CHans/
noun
1.
a possibility of something happening.
"there is little chance of his finding a job"
2. the occurrence and development of events in the absence of any obvious design.
"he met his brother by chance"
adjective
fortuitous; accidental.
Yor gazed out of the window, her hat crooked on her head. Chance.. What sentence could that be applied to? A chance. She had many chances.. Exactly 2 left. She couldn’t risk getting into any more trouble, she needed to stay here. So what did chance mean to her? Think, Yor, think!
As she tapped her pencil against her desk she was met with the irritated stares of the girls she was sitting between, causing her to shrink into herself. She pretended to write on her paper as she thought. She wasn’t really thinking about the essay she was supposed to be writing, it was only a rough draft anyhow. It wasn’t due for months, which she found strange but had learned not to question any assignment they were given.
“Miss Briar..” The teacher hissed, tapping the ruler on the board impatiently.
Yor didn’t listen. She was too busy thinking about what she was going to do after school.
“Miss Briar!” The teacher barked, causing Yor to sit up straight. “Y-yes ma’am?” The entire class was staring at her, she felt her skin begin to sweat as many pairs of eyes pierced through her. She had a reputation for sure, it depended on what you heard whether it was good or bad. The teachers weren’t too fond of her, she was spacy and easily distracted.
“Would you read us your rough draft?”
She felt a lump form in her throat. She had spent the last 40 or so minutes daydreaming. Right as she was about to speak the bell rang, saved by the bell! It was her lucky day.
On the other hand, Loid was packing up his things on the other side of the classroom. He lamented to himself in his head about how unprepared that girl was and how this was Eden College and everyone should try their absolute best.. yeah, whatever man.
As soon as he left the building he was brutally assaulted by the noises of girls and boys whispering and/or just talking out loud about either him or whatever the popular thing was, which might have been him. Comfortably at his side walked his longtime friend, Franky Franklin, looking terribly jealous. “You’re literally just your average brooding bad boy.. I don’t know why you’re so popular.”
“It’s just my face.”
Franky shook his head, it was more. He knew lots about women (so he thought,) and all he could think was that good girls always liked bad boys. Loid’s face was always decorated with a bandaid and scowl, THE bad boy. Not to mention his two Tonitrus bolt were from fighting.
From around the corner he notices Sylvia beckoning him and Franky to meet at the spot™ . The two nod to each other and make their way over to a deep part of the grand library. As soon as the two sit down, Sylvia starts her lecture.
“Twilight, Scruffy,” to which she was immediately interjected by Franky with protest that his name wasn’t scruffy. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, then, I have your next mission. We’re calling this mission operation STRIX. Your target is the leader of the National Unity Party, Donovan Desmond. He’s a great threat to the truce between East and West. Your mission is to get close to him and probe and probe any seditious activity.”
“Should be easy enough.. what’s the catch?” Twilight craned his neck, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he listened closely.
“You need to get close to the target’s son, Demetrius Desmond.” Handler dropped the bombshell and sent Twilight into a short coughing fit.
“Of course, of course..” He reluctantly agreed. This would be difficult, but not too difficult for him. It was known to most that Demetrius Desmond was extremely popular and elitist, only associating with the most popular and wealthy.. mostly popular. He was oddly fixated on the whole popularity thing which rubbed Twilight the wrong way. “I’ll see to it immediately.”