You're Not Doing It Right!

[Oliver Lee Winchester]

The first few days of school were always the worst for Oliver. It was hard for him to get back into the swing of things, but new schools were always the worst. He was still in his first days at Riverdale High, and he wasn't sure if he liked the experience yet or not. The only experience more awkward than this was his first day of school period.

Judy Winchester probably could have scarcely imagine what she would hear about her child that year. He was a little troublemaker, the teacher had informed her. Judy maintained that her son was just curious, and that it was completely harmless.

"Curious? You're telling me he tried to fix the water fountain across the hall to spray the opposite wall out of curiosity?"

Of course, Oliver had. He wanted to see if he could do it, and he passed his mission with flying colors. It soon became clear that he'd done it on a dare from one of his fellow students, who swore that he could not do such a thing. Evidently Oliver took it upon himself to prove this other little boy wrong. It certainly earned him the approval of a few of his classmates, much to his pleasure, but his teacher made sure to keep a close eye on him for the rest of the year.

Oliver was a curious case in other ways, of course. Ways that were an indication of what was to come. "I think perhaps you ought to pay a bit more attention to him. I know it's hard, with five other children, but..."

"Five other children?" Judy had responded in pure amazement. "We only have two children, Mrs. Sanders."

That was rather odd, explained the teacher, as Oliver kept mentioning three older brothers and a younger sister at home. He also mentioned an older sister...the only true older sibling that the Winchesters knew of. Judy certainly planned to talk to her son about this, but there was one other concern that Mrs. Sanders wished to voice with Mrs. Winchester. "He's also having trouble writing his name." The young teacher stated. This was the least of Judy's worries, of course. Her son was five going on six. It only stood to reason that he'd still be struggling with his name. He would learn to write it out soon enough. When the teacher showed her a drawing by Oliver, however, Judy was stunned. His penmanship was that of a typical five year old. No concerns there. No, the problem was that the spelling of the name on the paper could in no way be worked out phonetically to spell out the name Oliver (O-r-v-i-l-l-e), and the five year old had maintained that he spelled his name perfectly. It was this adamant attitude that confused both the teacher and Judy. It was one thing to spell one's name wrong, but to voice with such conviction that you'd spelled it in the correct way?

Nine years later, that boy had finally learned how to spell out his name correctly. He struggled still, occasionally putting down the wrong name on papers even now, but he usually caught it before it was too late. At least he usually only fumbled on the first name and not the last name. Using both would certainly arouse far more suspicions than a blooming mechanical prodigy already was. He seemed to be having an alright time of it at Riverdale High School. No slip ups as of yet, which made him tempted to keep track in his journal of the days he went without slipping up and referring to himself in the past tense.

Oliver was currently seated in the corner of the library, reading a book on the early history of aeronautics. At this point, he was not at all surprised to learn that, well, he already knew most of this stuff! No, what bothered him was the fact that some of the 'facts' about the mechanisms of flight in this book were wrong. Oh so very wrong. It had seemed simple enough at first. He'd taken a pen and crossed out one word, replacing it with another. One thing led to another, however, and now at least ten pages in the books were filled with edits. It hardly occurred to Oliver at this point that he was defacing school property. He was absorbed in what he was doing and therefore did not see a figure approaching him.

Word count: 754
To: Isabella/Dante!
Notes: He's breaking all the rules, dammit! And Isa's got her work cut out for her. XD Poor girl.

[Isabella Jillian Avadore]

Riverdale. Ah, the joys. She liked Riverdale very much. It was home to her, and escape from two little brothers, that while very adorable and nice to spend some time with, did get tiresome. Neither of them had shown the same traits as her, anyhow. Nope. Isabella was a little bit of an anomaly in her family. Past and future, come to think of it. The only real issue with Riverdale was (Leila aside) was the fact there could be a lot of homework at times. But because of that, they'd built a library to suit their students.

However, that was not the reason the brown-haired sophomore was wandering the library. The library was gigantic, which meant she could find whatever she wanted in here, but the trouble was finding it. Fiction, non-fiction, you name it, they had it. Isabella liked to read, and she didn't want to head to her dorm just now. The school closed up at six - by then people needed to be home or in their dorms. But until then, whenever worked. Besides, she had no wants to die via second-hand smoke. Febreze was great, but maybe she'd just read here for a bit. The library was also a nice, quiet spot to pray.

She wove in and out of the bookshelves, pausing to study a title or two, going up to the second floor, where she cracked open a book on biology. She browsed through it, reading the section on genetics in earnest, then into a section on law. Kinda funny, when she through on it. Here was Saint Joan of Arc, who was seriously pondering going into law. Becoming a nun just didn't hold water for her. She hadn't wanted to become one in a past life, either. She might have settled for being a tailor in this life, if it hadn't been for the fact that just didn't seem like doing enough with what she had. She had a sharp tongue, quick wits and she did have a good way with the law, given that she'd held her own for quite some time while being pretty well illiterate. Law and humanitarian work probably crossed paths somewhere...and that would be a fine niche to get into.

She looked up from a book on the history of law, looking around. Through the shelves and down far away, she saw one of the few other people in the library that day. A boy, crouched over a book. She frowned...was that a pen in his hand? He was one of the freshmen, that much she knew. The RSOR leaders and their recruiters had been going at quite a pace to 'scan" all the freshmen for slip-ups, so they could induct them quickly. He hadn't set off any flashing lights...until now.

Yes, yes, Isabella was positive he was writing in the book. That was a no-no, and anyone with commons sense should know that! He could just be a vandal. Or he could be correcting the book. Or something. If it was the latter, he could either be a smart normal (which was perfectly possible), or he was correcting his own history, or something. Time to give this a look over.

She slipped the book back into the shelf, and melted away into the rows of shelves, working her way around behind him without being seen. She crept up closer and closer, knowing that the chase was the important thing here. If he saw her, he'd shut the book. Instead of wrestling it open and from him, she'd just peek over his shoulder. And that she did. The book was on early aeronautics. Not something a physics student would riddle out for him or herself, and not something that a freshman would. Furthermore, it was a history book. Alarm bells were indeed ringing. Edits everywhere.

Reincarnate? Quite, quite possibly. And if he was, this was a major no-no. The book would have to be thrown out; not because of defacing, but because correcting 'fact' from memory was not allowed. Isabella herself would have liked to do it on occasion - for the love of God, she had not been intersex, trans, or ANYTHING but female, but nooooo - there was debate. From behind him, she knelt down and snapped the book shut, disregarding fingers or pens that may have been in the book."Let me guess," She hissed from behind him, "You were there when they came up with it." It was a complete and total guess. If he was a normal, he'd just think she was weird. If he was a reincarnate, he might react differently. "I really don't think you should be correcting history books, regardless." Her voice was mad, but commanding. She was going to get to the bottom of this - either way, he wasn't going to be carrying on with this.

----------------
words| 845
tagged| Oliver / Mandee
notes| She dun have a sword, but there are various heavy books... XD

[Oliver Lee Winchester]

It did, of course, occur to Oliver that it probably wasn't the best idea to deface a book, but if he played his cards right, no one would be able to trace it back to him anyway. He was blissfully unaware of any other reincarnations at this point, though he knew that he himself was one. There had to be others out there was well, it stood to reason, but he could scarcely imagine that there was a secret society of them at the very high school he attended, or that one of the leaders of said society was spying on him at this very moment.

Nope, he was too busy correcting textbook errors. He was in the middle of crossing out a completely incorrect statement about the tail of an aircraft when two arms appeared out of nowhere and snapped the book shut. Oliver jumped back, able to get his hands out of the way in time. However, the offending pen was caught in between the pages. Oliver glanced up wide-eyed at the offender at once.

"What was that for?"[/color] He blurted out before he could stop himself. It wasn't exactly the best way to start off a conversation, but then, neither was slamming someone's book shut on them. After a few seconds, Oliver realized what a predicament that he was in. He'd just been caught writing all over the pages of a library book...school property. This girl was probably a library aide that was going to lay into him. "I can explain! You see, there was..."[/color]

He paused at her next words. You were there when they came up with it. How on Earth could she possibly know that? "I was there when we came up with it." Oliver corrected her, again realizing that this was probably not the best way to go about a conversation. There was a bit of annoyance in his voice, but more at himself than at this girl. A closer look told him that said girl was a year or two older than him, probably a sophomore or a junior. Great, he'd managed to piss off one of the upperclassmen not even a week into school.

At her next words, he sighed and looked down at the book once more. "I know. School property and all that."[/color] School property that had the wrong facts about the construction of early aircraft, which drove him up the wall, but school property nonetheless. If it had been a librarian, he likely would have landed himself in some heavy duty hot water - much worse than what he was dealing with at the moment. Perhaps he should have been grateful toward the girl, but gratitude was for later. Right now, he would address his curiosity.


"How did you know what I was doing?"[/color] This was the answer that he wanted answered first. Everything else could come later. But he wanted to how this girl knew that he was writing in the book because he'd actually been there. That wasn't a typical first conclusion to draw from his actions...unless there was something else at work.

Word count: 548
To: Isabella/Dante!
Notes: Ok, in some spots he's just asking to be whacked in the head with a book. Try to go easy on him, he's young (by both physical and reincarnate standards, lol).

[Isabella Jillian Avadore]

This kid had better have a good explanation for what the blast he was doing. Isabella was no library volunteer, or whatever it was, but she did know full well the trouble this could get people into; even if he didn't realize it. Okay, so the librarians probably found books with 'boobies' or whatever written on them from time to time. She herself had ended up with a novel from the library with several such words written on it. Thankfully, she'd been able to erase it. That was one thing. Corrections were another. If they tried to trace it, a reincarnate teacher might find out what had happened. They'd point the finger at someone in RSOR, and in this case, probably Amelia Earhart, who Joan knew wouldn't do such a thing.

On the other hand, if he was a reincarnate, he was showing his true colors right here and right now, which was great. Things like this made it much easier to figure out what people were than by personality alone. He turned around, coming face-to-face with Isabella, who looked very displeased. Not loathingly mad displeased, but even so. "I think you know what that was for." Isabella replied, standing up and looking back down at him. She wasn't very tall, it was quite possible he was bigger, so she'd take the ability to look down while she had it. She did the same with her little brothers, too. She might be taller than her mother, but not her father, and sooner or later, they were probably going to shoot up and the oldest sibling would be the smallest. The boy tried to explain himself, and Isabella looked exceptionally unimpressed. She reached out a hand, one eyebrow arched. "Give me the book. You're not re shelving that one." Hopefully he hadn't done this to more books, or somehow all books on the subject might need to be checked. Isabella told him in his pause.

Her next words were something of the test. And when he corrected her, he may well have just passed it. He didn't react by giving her a look of 'what're you on?'. He took it literally, and he corrected her. "You think you're the Wright brothers or something?" Sarcasm was dripping from her voice; like she didn't believe he could have possibly been there and that he was just some weird little freshie, but her eyes weren't sharing the emotion. They were searching this kid. He may have just let his status slip, but she wanted to be sure. If he took the bait, even if he had nothing to do with the Wright brothers; he could just be...who knew, Issac Newton or Ernest Rutherford, or some other scientist from any time between. There was no divine intervention here for her to be leaning on, after all.

"And you're doing a little more than defacing school property, you're correcting the textbooks! Why would you do that?" Isabella asked, laying out some more of her "tests" for him. Now, it was totally possible he'd just get up., flip her the bird, and leave, but then she'd have to go on watching him or get another freshman to do it. "And as for figuring it out, it's not hard to see you from the right angle." She wouldn't say where she was; if this became a worse-case scenario, he might be spurred on to continue, and if he knew where she'd seem him, he'd do better to further conceal himself. Sometimes her strategic thoughts could pay off in this day and age. Or she was just going overboard. or both.

----------
words| 659
tagged| Oliver / Mandee
notes| Boobies. Eheheheheeee.

[Oliver Lee Winchester]

Despite her height, Isabella's demeanor was enough to make Oliver feel smaller in his seat. This probably was not aided by the fact that he was sitting and she was standing, and therefore she was up higher than him, but Oliver did not much feel like getting up from his seat at this point in time. The fourteen year old bit his lip. Yes, of course he knew what it was for, but it still came without warning. Who approached a random stranger and closed a book on them, especially while the stranger was in the middle of using said book? Anyone would react the way he had! Fortunately, Oliver had the sense not to use this argument out loud, for it would only make an already volatile situation worse. He'd calmed himself from the original surprise at this point, and thus was able to think more clearly.

Oliver handed the book back to Isabella, still not saying a word. No, at this point, he was thinking about what his next move would be. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go at all. First off, he was not supposed to get caught, and then he wasn't supposed to be intimidated by a girl who oddly reminded him of his sister - Well, both sisters, really. His past sister and current sister.

Isabella did not even have to be watching Oliver closely to see the color drain from his face at her next words. He wasn't paying attention to the eyes, so he failed to notice that her eyes did not match her derisive tone. "Of course not, that would be silly."[/color] Oliver tried his best to make his voice sound confident at this point, but he had a strong feeling that he'd failed miserably. Adding up both lives, he had a grand total of 90 years of experience under his belt, yet nothing could prepare him for the awkwardness of this experience. He realized how crazy it would sound if he admitted who he truly was.

However, the girl's next words stirred something up in Oliver once more. He glanced in her direction once more, able to meet her eyes this time. "Because it's wrong."[/color] Oliver looked back toward the book. "I mean...they got most of it right, but based on all of the other books I've read, they have the configuration for the tail on the Wright Flyer totally wrong."[/color] If Isabella was any other person - well, any normal person, she'd hopefully accept this answer. And honestly, Oliver had nothing to go on to give him any hint that she was anything but an average student, save for her insistence on poking her nose into his business. Of course, Isabella wasn't normal. Oliver, by making that comment, more than likely dug himself into a deeper hole. He hadn't read about the tail of the Wright Flyer in a book. No, he could distinctly recall having had too much coffee and lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling as Wilbur snoozed on a few feet away. He recalled the idea gradually coming into his head. A movable rudder that would help to counteract the control issues they'd been having with the flying machine. He knew the proper configuration for the tail of the Wright Flyer because he was the one who formulated the idea for it, and helped put it together.


Word count: 582
To: Isabella/Dante!
Notes: He's doing a pretty bad job of 'saving' himself here. :/ Still better than I'd probably do in his shoes, lol.

[Isabella Jillian Avadore]

She was scaring him. Isabella could see it in the way he bit his lip, in how his protests thus far had been minimal. By the look of things, she was two or so years older than him. He looked quite young, after all. Fourteen, perhaps? Maybe just turned fifteen. Maybe. He wasn’t arguing with her, either. That was good. When Isabella got set off, she got set up something major; and often in that case gave the finger to sainthood for a little while – she’d get even, and even played rough and tough. He handed off the book without complain, and she took a half second to opened it up, to see more scribbles.

“Do you have any, ANY idea what this means?” She asked, clearly not referring to the contents of the book, since he probably knew what that meant– he hadn’t started laughing or made dumb comments thus far, so he was unlikely to have been filling the book with lies for shits and giggles (she wasn’t that mechanically minded – she wouldn’t be able to tell on a glance if it was wrong info he’d put in) ...besides, if he’d wanted to simply deface it, wouldn’t he just write obscenities like the book covered in ‘boobies’ she’d once encountered? “Anything at all?” There was so much ado with this, on more than one level. Superficially, that was one less book. More deeply, it could well mean one more scientist for Edison’s team and maybe even pilot pal for Earhart? Quite possibly...

She watched him become pale at her sarcasm, and she had to wonder how that happened. Was she scaring him THAT badly? That was a little much, if she was. So, she liked being in charge, but she wasn’t a tyrant. But then he spoke, sounding like a miserable liar. Funny – anyone normal would think he was just scared. Not lying miserably about something that people didn’t believe to be possible. Unless you were Buddhist, at which point very little or none of this would surprise you, wheel of rebirth and all. “If I didn’t know anything, I’d say you’re lying. You sound terrified, sweetheart. Can’t you be confident about a fact?” She asked, bending down and looking him in the eyes. Her words sounded scathing, but her eyes were searching. How would he react? That was everything. She may not have had a lot of years under her belt – only 35; less than every reincarnate she’d so far encountered, but she knew what she was doing with situations like this. She’d been on the other side, last time. Illiterate (which he sort of was, since he had no idea what he was dabbling in, reincarnate or not) and interrogated. At least there was no medieval torture in any risk of being involved.

He went on tyring to make feeble excuses for what he'd been doing, and that was only confirming her status in his mind. The trouble was, that there was almost always the moment of uncertainty where she had to sound bathshit insane. Where she and the other recruiters risked exposing RSOR for what well could be nothing. It was risky. But so far, in all its history, nothing terrible had happened. So, she pushed a little harder. She was going to make a reference, start getting into deeper stuff. If he was like he was, it was quite possible he's either catch on, or he lead along and pass the tests unwittingly, which was fine, either way.

"You found it completely wrong, huh? Who died and made you the resident authority on these things?" She asked, emphasising 'died'. Maybe he'd realize that she knew that he had memories. And if he was just a smart normal, he might not pick up on it, or she was just misplacing her emphasis completely. "After all, you're just a freshman, not an expect on early airplanes, aren't you?" A sly smiled crossed her features, and she glanced around quickly, then back at him. Now what would he say...

--------
words| 740
tagged| Oliver / Mandee
notes| I have no idea why making covert references about Isa/Joan's boobies amuses me so.

[Oliver Lee Winchester]

Oliver could not really understand why her demeanor was bothering him so much. Perhaps it was the realization that if he admitted the truth, he would sound completely batshit insane. He was already on the odd side, what with his mechanical talents, but it was one thing to just be a mechanical genius - It was another to come out and tell someone that you were the reincarnation of one of the Wright brothers. While he had told his sister at age eleven, he witnessed how well that went. From what he could tell, she pretended to believe him, but their relationship had never been the same since.

He might have been overreacting. There were plenty of other things that occurred when Oliver was eleven and Cindy was fourteen that could have changed their relationship. Cindy started high school, for one. Then, the year after, the Winchester family moved to Riverdale. All sorts of things were thrown into the picture that could potentially alter a relationship between a previously close brother and sister.

"I know it means I'm in trouble. Means I'll probably have to pay for the book. I can do it, it's no big deal. I could even keep the book." Oliver honestly wouldn't mind that so much. As he did not know of the RSOR at this point, or that there were others like him at the school, he wasn't taking into account Isabella's fear that his corrections could be traced back to the RSOR. He didn't even think that he would be identified as a reincarnate at this point. He didn't know that there were others like him, plenty more, in his classes, in the cafeteria, even teaching classes. More scathing words, but this time she bent down, meeting him in the eye. He saw something there he'd never seen before. She almost seemed to be studying him. This struck him as odd. If she were simply chastising him for writing in a book, why would her eyes look that way? It was only a tiny glimmer, but it was enough to hint to Oliver that something else might be at work here.

The next question made his suspicions grow that much more. Sure, on one hand, it sounded like another interrogation. And, in a way, it was. He caught the emphasis on the word died. This time, his eyes were searching hers. He was picking up on the hints, now that he had a closer look at her own features.

Finally, the smile. The words made it sound like just another comment trying to push him off as crazy. She wouldn't be smiling like that though if she were trying to be derisive. He knew he was taking a huge risk at this point, but he had to take the bait at some point. He could always try to weasel his way out of it if worse came to worse. It wasn't like he was going to come out and say 'hi, I'm Orville Wright'. Not yet at least. However, there were other ways to answer questions without using literally terms. Oliver met Isabella's eyes once more and returned a sly smile of his own. Two could play at that game, and Oliver had plenty of practice at the game with siblings in both lifetimes. "You'd be surprised."

Word count: 555
To: Isabella/Dante!
Notes: He's catching on, finally. =P Just takes actually LOOKING at the girl.

[Isabella Jillian Avadore]

"You must have known you'd end up paying for the book and stuff if caught. It doesn't add up does it?" Isabella was getting more and more direct. It wasn't like the boy was going to out and out say it from the blue - not right now, (even their most insane members were crafty), but she'd have to prod him more. And keep going, until he got it or gave her a red flag that she couldn't ignore. That was the trouble with recruiting for RSOR - many red flags might crop up, but sometimes you have to ignore them in their context. It was all very touch-and-go, these things. "No one sane corrects textbooks on risk of getting punished for it, or looking like a smart ass, or any number of things. But here you were, doing it." She continued to provoke, figuring if he hadn't gotten up and left yet, he wouldn't until she was through. That and she had the offending book in one hand, tucked against her hip, which might count for something, as well.

When she bent down to meet his eyes, she was met by his own gaze. Nothing. Nothing yet. Something wasn't clicking in there...not until she mentioned dying. Now he was trying to search her, perhaps? There was a change in his look, something that told her maybe she'd taken another vital step forwards.

And then he smiled. Aha! That might just be what she was looking for, but still, he was silent. Silence was good. maybe. It could just mean he was thinking of what to say, or that he decided the look in her eyes was one of insanity and he'd just not speak to her now. But speak he did. And reference he did. Very good. Old dogs learned new tricks; hell, any RSOR member was proof of this. "I'd be surprised?" She asked. "It takes a lot to surprise me. I mean, I may look pretty young, but you can say I've lived life, I know it's tricks. Try me, freshie." She looked around, peeking out from the corner of the bookshelves, and sat herself back down. She crossed her legs, book in her lap, watching him closely as she rested her chin in a hand.

"I'm not as mechanically minded as you are, but I really do hate the defacing of a book. In fact you'll find about forty percent of the school hate it." She mused, wondering how well he'd get the code. She hadn't exposed anything too out of the ordinary. Forty percent of Riverdale students, roughly, shared the same secret. Normals - those who looked into it, wouldn't find it too hard to figure out what percentage of kids were RSOR. Why the numbers were so high here and nowhere else on earth, she had no idea. Fate, maybe? God? Why? So they'd have a home? A haven? Maybe some souls got trapped, and maybe this was His way of giving them safety, in His way. And she knew quite well, His way was often a little odd.

-----------
words| 550
tagged| Oliver / Mandee
notes| >> -kicks this post- I dun like it.

[Oliver Lee Winchester]

Oliver let out a small chuckle. Actually, the idea that he might eventually get caught hadn't even crossed his mind. It was a bit sad, he realized, but it was the truth. He was a bit reckless when it came to these things. What he needed was a bit of stability to balance himself out. He needed Cindy. He needed Wilbur. He needed...

To not be accused of being insane, for one thing. He became incensed at this point, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I like the way that you are talking to me. It was stupid, yes. Thoughtless, yes. I don't think insane is the right word." The more he and Isabella talked, the more Oliver was able to push back. He certainly didn't like being called insane for something that he knew was true. There were ways to prove it, too, but Oliver couldn't think of a way to do so in front of Isabella...and even if he did, he still wasn't entirely sure if he could trust her yet. Oliver and Isabella were participating in a dangerous game of tug of war that might land either one of them in hot water, if the other wasn't what they thought they were.

As the sophomore sat back down, Oliver kept his eyes on her closely. He wanted to watch her every move at this point. There was something off about her. She was playing games too, he could tell.

Her next words came, and Oliver's eyes widened just the slightest bit. The way those words came off...she looked young, but she'd lived life and knew it's tricks? It all sounded rather suspicious; like something that he would say. In fact, he might have said something of the like if Isabella hadn't beaten him to the punch. He toyed with the idea of commenting on this, and finally his curiosity won out. It usually did. "You look young, eh? The way you say that, it makes it sound like you're not as young as you look."[/color] He arched an eyebrow and grinned slightly. Was it really true? Was this girl like him? Or was he reading way too far into things? Wilbur had always said he had an overactive imagination.

Then she presented him with a figure. Oh goody. A rather odd figure, if he had to say so himself. Only forty percent of the school hated the defacing of books? Honestly, he would have assumed it was a higher percentage. Unless... "Like I said, I wasn't really thinking when I did it..."[/color] He trailed off, furrowing his eyebrow as he looked at the book once more, then back at Isabella. "I know more than you seem to think I do. I have more experience with early aircraft than you seem to think. I may look young, but I've lived life and know all of it's tricks."[/color] He chuckled, then met her eyes with an even larger grin as he repeated her words back to her.

Word count: 508
To: Isabella/Dante!
Notes: Don't know if the way she worded that was meant to be a hint, but I took it as such. XD

[Isabella Jillian Avadore]

Aha, so the boy could bite back. When she questioned his sanity, he stated that he was stupid and thoughtless, but not insane. No reincarnate claimed to be insane, but then again, neither did a normal. That was how she was thinking just now. She didn't care that he'd tried to snap back, she was too busy adding up everything in her head. Isabella wasn't as mathematically minded as this boy (quite obviously, moreso if she was correct with her suspicions), but she could manage this sort of addition. "No one insane ever claims to be as such. Don't take it so hard. In this school defacing nonfiction - particularly history - is a form of insanity. Now, on the other hand, if you made a claim to what others would call insanity, but you knew you were perfectly sane, where would you be? But that doesn't matter. Just don't deface the damn books." If he wasn't what he might be, he might claim SHE was insane, at which point Isabella would laugh and talk her way out of it. That was one thing she was good at.

She sat herself down, as the boys eyes widened. Funny, she would go so far as to say knew so his secret, but not even his name. Funny how that worked out, where the fabric of life and death spat out some interesting...singularities...in the system. Time to push it to the last level, with his words. He was wising up, and playing back. Either he was trying to play along, or he was what he was. And people usually didn't play around by this point. "Biologically, I'm sixteen. And my guess is that biologically you're around...hm, fourteen?" The emphasis fell on biologically - like it didn't already stand out of the sentence like a sore thumb.

The brown-haired sophomore watched as he, at first, seemed to take the figure at face value, stating he didn't think when he did that. Well, obviously! He might just have told someone else about his memories that really weren't. yes, at this point, Isabella was convinced to the point where she might just expose herself. It was scary to do, but there would be nothing without the occasional leap of faith. What sort of leader was she if she couldn't risk making herself seem nuts in front of a kid. Worse come to worse, she'd just have to make sure he didn't share the little chat with anyone else. There was already a senior normal or that probably had a very, very good idea of what RSOR was. Erin Martens, her name was. How she worked it out was anyone's guess, but they had to keep an eye on her.

He used her own words and she returned the grin, sold on it. "Is that so?" She asked, voice dropping to a whisper, looking him dead in the eyes, "You must know about leaps of faith then, taking off, doing something no one's done before. I've done that too. Not planes, mind...I'm not a planes expect. I know about medieval warfare, particularly in France. If I had been there, I would have put an end to the hundred years war, I'm sure." She leaned forwards some. "You know exactly what I'm talking about...right, 'Wright'?" Now, of course, her play on two 'Wrights' was nothing more than a guess. He could be any pioneer of airplanes, and frankly, she didn't know about too many of them.

--------------
words| 647
tagged| Oliver / Mandee
notes| Here we goooo....

[Oliver Lee Winchester]

Every single word she spoke hooked him that much more at this point. At the school it was considered insane to correct history textbooks. In this school. Why had she put the the focus on the school? He could understand why one would believe that correcting a history textbook would be insane, but why only at this school? There was something that she wasn't telling him, and at this point he was getting positively frustrated that he hadn't been let in on the secret yet.

Then again, he hadn't exactly let her in on his own. Not just yet.

The 'biologically' comment might as well have sealed the deal. It pretty much did, as far as he was concerned. No normal person would refer to someone's age as a biological number. Not unless...not unless they were someone like him. Some who was both fourteen and much older at the same time. In all honesty, it felt a bit refreshing to be fourteen again. He could pass off his mechanical fascinations as childhood curiosities and not as anything truly suspicious. Of course, people had been suspicious. He hadn't done a very good job of covering for himself as a child, simply for the fact that he didn't quite understand what was going on at the time. He was in the mind of two different people, after all. The only logical explanation for the longest time seemed to be adoption. That way, he could be both Orville Wright and Oliver Winchester. That one science class changed everything, however.

"Biologically yes, I am fourteen. Biologically." He repeated, putting his own emphasis on the word. This was actually growing to be quite a fun little game! He was convinced at the word 'biological', just as she was soon convinced by his turning the tables on her.

Oliver returned her stare, listening to her next words and mulling them over in his head. Except there wasn't much mulling over to do this time around. Her sentences were packed with puns that broke the serious gaze that he tried to maintain on his face. So much for that charade.

His mind didn't begin reeling again until she mentioned medieval warfare and France, and what she would do if she'd been there. Obviously, at this point, Oliver knew there was more to it than that. "Wow, I'm impressed. By the way, I never did get your name."[/color] He whispered just as quietly back to her. A small smirk came across his face. He wasn't asking for her name in this lifetime, of course. It might help to learn that too, but he wanted to know who she was. He was sifting through his historical knowledge, and had an idea of who she was (she'd been made a saint during his lifetime, after all, and he'd been nearing fifty at the time, so it wasn't as though he could push that off as being too young to remember), but didn't want to go forth unless he had a full fledged answer. If she was who he thought she was, he really was impressed. Hard not to be impressed by a teenager putting an end to a war.

She, on the other hand was more bold, something that Oliver had to admire. "You would be correct, or, as you say it, 'Wright'." He leaned forward in his chair to whisper even more quietly to Isabella. "You know, it's a clever pun, but it kinda gets old after the first 100 times you hear it."[/color] He shook his head. "Just as I'm sure it has to get tiring being asked if God has the answers to the pop quiz in math, am I right? Well, of course I'm 'Wright', but you know what I mean."[/color] Eh, what the hell? She'd been upfront with him, he was going to do the same back. There was nothing to lose now. Of course, the chance to make another pun was not lost on him. Though he pretended to be annoyed, he secretly found it rather amusing. He'd always enjoyed puns.

Word count: 704
To: Isabella/Dante!
Notes: Ah, the puns.

[Isabella Jillian Avadore]

At some point or another in their lives, ever reincarnate had a moment where they were able to be classified at such, but someone who was knowledgeable on it. For some, there were many, many moments. Some happened early on; she randomly spoke French one day, instead of her native Spanish, and even singed her name in crayon - the one word Joan of Arc ever learned to read or write (the rest of the letters she dictated, and trusted the man would write her words honestly). This took it for a misspelling of "Jillian", her middle name - after all, Isabella replicating a signature of a saint in crayon in kindergarten was just silly. And then there was her fire-fear, which she made no effort to (or could, even if she wanted to) hide; but she hadn't feared fire until after death. It was an Isabella trait as much as a Joan one, and that was how most traits were passed off. French? Talent for languages. Perseverance? Came fro her dad's side. Military brainiac? Okay, that was new...but she was a clever girl, after all, who loved to play games like Risk. She probably just had a knack for those games, and put it into capture the flag. The ways to hide some traits were nearly endless...unless you knew where to look.

And here, she'd looked in just the right place. He replied to her guess at his age in the same way Isabella had stated hers. They both knew, at this point. It was a secret that was just waiting to be said. Just had to be said. A secret that would let loose all the other secrets the school hid, but for the legends that walked the halls. Legends - that case and point, right here, were from everywhere. Domrémy, France to Kitty Hawk, to Victorian England and Ancient Egypt...here it was. "Thank you." She said with a smile. "Your actions are quite something as well." The airplane had quite literally changed the way the world worked, after all. Isabella looked around, making sure that they weren't being eavesdropped on, and spoke again. He already knew, but she'd confirm it. "Joan of Arc, known typically around here as Isabella Avadore." There. The leap of faith was not so much a leap of faith anymore, but a simple confirmation of things.

Now who was he? Isabella smiled as he played on a pun. So he was one of the Wright brothers...hm. The other hadn't shown up yet, but she supposed the other one could be anything from a baby to a baby boomer, a just not in Riverdale. He went on, and she chuckled at the bit about the pop quiz. Oh, she'd found herself wondering a couple times why He couldn't tell her that, but of course, He was silent as a stone. "So if I'm correct, which 'right' are you?" She asked. She'd told, he might as well. "And that makes 101 times now...though I wish He had the answers to the pop quiz...He's more concerned about stopping my brother getting run over by a truck, or something blowing up, or the like. Or, sometimes, even when it comes to doing my job. Not today, but sometimes..." This boy was who he was. She knew it. She just had that...feeling inside her.

"You're mechanically minded." She stated simply. "You had to have guessed the odds or being one of a kind were very few...did you ever wonder that maybe, somehow, in one place, the odds were pulled the other way completely? That instead of one of a kind..." Isabella trailed off, raising an eyebrow. This was exactly why she had came. To give him a place.

-----------
words| 670
tagged| Oliver / Mandee
notes| Nupe.

[Oliver Lee Winchester]

Oliver's moments had, of course, been passed off as well. Actions of a slightly odd child, yes, but it wasn't as though other kids didn't get into things all of the time. Oliver just had a talent with machines, that wasn't too big of a deal. The misspelling of his name to Orville was a bit weirder, but even that could be passed off as just mixing up the letters of his name.

The only one that really cause any alarm was the mention of other siblings, and being adopted, and he knew better than to bring that up again when his mother started crying after he asked her one day when he was seven if he was adopted. He'd learned about adoption in school, of course, and what better way to explain memories of a different family? He was starting to realize something was off, but wasn't quite old enough at that point to put the pieces together. Not until he was starting middle school.

"Thanks,"[/color] Oliver responded to her reassurances that his actions were quite something as well. He turned a small shade of red at this. It felt strange having this kind of attention on him. Back in the past, he would have hidden behind Will or Kate and let them do the talking, while maybe saying a word or two himself. He didn't have that luxury this time around. He didn't even have Cindy at the moment, as there was no way in hell she believed his crazy claim a few years back.

"Which do you prefer?"[/color] Oliver asked with a small grin. "Might have a hard time remember two names in my old age..."[/color] He tapped on his head with a grin. Of course, in some ways, he really was a fourteen year old. He'd never been in a hurry to grow up in his past life either. He'd spent his entire life tinkering, and had died after suffering a heart attack while fixing a lightbulb. In other ways, of course, he was wise beyond his years. He chose not to acknowledge that most of the time, as it would only cause unneeded suspicions, but he could draw on it when he wanted to, and it was quite a comfort.

Oliver had no problem with sharing who he was after Isabella confirmed that she was Joan of Arc. Joan of Arc, wow. His father (the Milton Wright one, now the Ed Winchester one) had been a minister, so Oliver was raised in a religious family. Though both he and Wilbur (as well as most of the kids for that matter) slipped away from the church as time went on, Oliver could still remember all the stories from Sunday school.

"Orville, known to the rest of the school as Oliver."[/color] Oliver started laughing at this point. "Hated having to learn how to write my name when I was a kid...least your names are different..."[/color] He didn't know Isabella's middle name, of course, so he didn't realize that her attemps to write 'Joan' in French could be misconstrued as spelling her middle name wrong. Oliver laughed even more at Isabella/Joan's next words. "So there's no hope in you finding out about who kissed who at the party on Saturday? Aww man, that sucks."[/color] Oliver teased. In all honesty, he thought it only made sense that such messages were reserved for important matters. Then the full impact of what she was saying hit him. "So wait, you still hear God? I mean, I guess it makes sense, I still have all my mechanical knowledge from before, but...what do you mean He helps you with your job?[/color]

Now it was getting down to the nitty gritty. The subject suddenly changed back to him, and how he had to have guessed that there were others. He snorted. "Of course! I just didn't expect to come across someone else so..."[/color] His eyes widened as he listened to the rest of her words. The odds were pulled, so that in one place... "Are there others here?"[/color] It was refreshing enough meeting Isabella...er, Joan. The idea that there were others, probably even others who were on the same wavelength as him. Other inventors. Maybe even Wilbur. He'd know that there were other reincarnations wandering around, but the idea that there would be more than just he and Joan in this school? It was...fascinating, to say the least. His biggest smile yet came over his face.



Word count: 747
To: Isabella/Dante!
Notes: ...you know it's bad when the first thing that comes into your head at the post number is a Boeing 747. XD

[Isabella Jillian Avadore]

Isabella smiled when she saw him go red, but didn't say anything. She really couldn't understand so well all the physics that made a plane fly, and he'd come up with the basics of it. Albeit by fiddling around over doing a whole ton of math, but still; he and his brother had made a great advancement in technology, after all. When her family came to America, they'd used a plane; rather than take forever by boat. Amelia would like to meet this kid, most certainly...

"Joan, at least when I can be called that." She told him, when asked which name she preferred. It was her first name, after all. He true name; though she'd never been greatly confused by the fact she had tow names. At first she just thought she'd had a gift of all these thoughts that weren't her own, some Gift from someone far away and long ago before she realized that, in fact, they were the same. "I think you'll be fine, old man." Isa said, sticking her tongue out playfully. Yep, he was older than her, if they combined both lifetimes - but yet biologically, she was the elder one. Only with the reincarnated would such things pop up. It didn't matter which of the Wright brothers he was; he'd be older than her

Finally, the Wright brother gave her his first name. Orville Wright, the younger, but the longer-lived. Funny how close his names came. Now granted, she didn't know his last one, but Orville and Oliver came very close. She hadn't gotten anywhere near, except with her middle name. But then again, she hadn't had a last name last time, either. "That one must have been a hard one to explain! Which name do you prefer?" Isabella said with a small nod. It must have been disconcerting for his parents, and siblings, if he had any, to have him under some 'delusion' of being named Orville. "I used my past signature, but I was illiterate...funny as it sounds, it probably helped." She said with the slightest of laughs, watching him laugh as she listed off some of the things the Voices had told her, and how He wasn't concerned with a math quiz, but wasn't so amused with that particular tease. "I've haven't kissed anyone." She said, her voice neutral. That was true. Her campaign in France had been supported largely by the fact she was a virgin (otherwise it was just some sort of plain common sense she was a witch, in the times) and this life around, well, she wasn't sure if she could break that chastity. She was a saint, after all...and He hadn't given her an answer. Well...damn. Pardonne. Then he seemed to realize everything she'd just said, and she giggled. "Yes, I still hear the Voices; and I'm not some skitzophrenic, thank you. Ever since I was thirteen, same as before." She left the part about her job alone for now, and instead went on about the odds of finding another reincarnate.

He interrupted her, but then quieted down as she didn't acknowledge him and went on. She watched his eyes widen, and asked about what he was implying. "Mhmmmm." She murmured, before getting up and checking the whole area around them, and taking a jog through nearby aisle. That was the trouble with the library. People could be anywhere, but it was deserted. She returned in a second, and sat down next to him, whispering in his ear.

"There's a school club called RSOR. R-S-O-R. Reincarnte Society Of Riverdale, or you can flip it and call it Riverdale Society of Reincarnates, which is what I prefer. My job is helping lead it. There are six leaders...one of them is Amelia Earheart, incidentally; but anywho, we're about forty percent of the school - and some of the teachers are, principal included. But not all of them, so not all teachers know. And every year, we go around and see if among the new students we can find more of us. That's what my job is, and sometimes Voices point them out. Not today, but it's happened. Why here, why this school and not the town itself, I don't know. Fate? Maybe so. But that's how it is...now, I'm going to have to give you some forms and crap, because if you're lying to me at this point..." She drew a line across her neck. Joan of Arc wasn't a natural-born killer. But if it came down to killing or exposing RSOR, she would kill.

"But if you're one of us, you're in after the aforementioned forms and crap." She finished, a small smile on her face.

------------
words| 884
tagged| Oliver / Mandee
notes| And it's all out!

[Oliver Lee Winchester]

"Alright Joan, I think we can manage that."[/color] He grinned at Isabella/Joan. He'd never had the chance to introduce himself under his true name in this lifetime, yet it felt so right (no puns this time!). He snorted as she called him an old man. "A few minutes ago I was a little freshie, now I'm an old man. Make up your mind!" Though the words conveyed irritation, his eyes twinkled with mischief, showing that he was indeed only joking with her. Physically, he was a little freshie. As far as combined years from both lifetimes, however? He was older. He had more 'years of experience', so to speak.

"I prefer Orville...I spent a couple of years when I was a kid insisting that I was spelling my name correctly on papers. Thank God I never had to put my last name down at that age - that would have caused even more problems."[/color] He blushed and grinned at the thought of what administrators - and his parents - would do if Oliver consistently wrote the name 'Orville Wright' down on all of his papers. Of course, the idea was rather disconcerting, but it was also amusing in a dark sort of way.

Oliver laughed. "Probably did help. I guess I'm lucky that Will did most of the writing before. And when I wrote stuff, I usually used a typewriter. Except for letters within the family..mainly to my sister." He missed Kate almost as much as he missed Wilbur. He also wanted to apologize to her for being a bit of a jerk to her in her last few years of life, after she went off and got married - Jealousy and loneliness could do some nasty things, unfortunately, and Orville grew to regret his actions, but by then it was too late.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "There you go flipping things again. First you were calling me insane, now you're insisting that you're not insane."[/color] He grinned. Now that he felt like more of an equal to Isabella/Joan, he did not feel so intimidated by her presence. He felt as though he could joke with her, as if they shared a deep secret together...and they did. However, they weren't the only ones.

"Well, honestly, if one just looked at the evidence they'd know you're not schizophrenic! I mean, it all comes true, doesn't it?[/color] In both this life and his past life, he wasn't sure about the existence of God. However, something was certainly communicating with Joan/Isabella, and something seemed to be getting everything right. She wasn't crazy, in other words, he could tell that much.

"RSOR? So that's what..." Oliver had heard about it almost right after coming to the school. Even with the freshman, the rumors were spreading like wildfire. Now, suddenly, Oliver knew exactly what it was...and he knew it was a place where he belonged. He smiled at the mention of Amelia Earhart. "Good...I'd like to meet her again."[/color] He'd met her a couple of times in their past lives. It only made sense, of course, given their fame in the same field. Oliver found his next words coming out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "You haven't seen my brother there, have you?"[/color] He wasn't sure if he wanted to meet Isabella's eyes for this one.

As she continued on and mentioned the forms though, Oliver managed a small smile once more. "Well, I'd like to sign them, but right now my pen is currently trapped between the pages of the book that started this whole thing."[/color] He nodded his head toward the 'Early Aeronautics' book that Isabella still had in her position. As he saw her draw her finger across her neck, he bit his lip. Not that he had anything to be worried about, really, but now he knew why she was such an intimidating figure at times...and she had the reputation to prove it too. Joan of Arc was a Saint, yes, but she didn't get there sitting around doing nothing. She could act on her word.

"Come on, would a normal kid really be correcting the tail configurations for the Wright Flyer? Of course I'm in."[/color]

Word count: 704
To: Isabella/Dante!
Notes: ...you know it's bad when the first thing that comes into your head at the post number is a Boeing 747. XD