Author Comments: Before we begin, let's cover the basics. It's alternate universe. And I'm going to be covering a few themes from the real world. Also, we're gonna have a Soul and Maka romance subplot because I'm too devoted to the couple to do anything else. But my goal in writing this is to present the DWMA in a totally new way. Some things will be familiar, some different. I'm trying to write it like this was the world we actually live in, and that world is much more complicated than the black and white of Soul Eater. Also, this actually has little things like history and backstory. It's going to be a little different, as fans of my stuff already know. But as always, enjoy. That's all I care about. Also, I think this first chapter is a bit bad from a pure entertainment standpoint. I promise, it's the only one. Read the rest! Go! Shoo! Read! Now! Don't listen to some idiot talk.
They hold Weapon and Meister orientation separate. Meister orientation is in the auditorium. The air conditioned auditorium. With chairs. The Weapons have to huddle outside, whatever the weather. And at the moment, that weather is pouring, freezing rain. Maka's cold, wet, and seething with rage. She wishes that she had shredded that letter when it first came. 'Congratulations, you've been accepted to the DWMA!' Had read the bright, cheerful letters, with the signature of Lord Death himself at the bottom. Anyone else would have been overjoyed, but not Maka. She had bad memories of this place. Mostly to do with her father. So getting sent off by her mother was not a decision she had supported. But here she was, in the downpour. For orientation. Huzzah...
"Alright!" Bellows an instructor up front. He's tall, caucasian, and has ridiculous, oddly short dreadlocks. Quite frankly Maka finds him annoying. "In a moment you all get to go inside. There, we'll start the choosing process. Remember, it's the Meister's decision who to partner up with, so respect it. They'll be choosing in order of skill, and you all will be arranged in order of power, to help them decide." The instructor clears his throat. "Also, my apologies for the weather, however, it's necessary. We find it's best to put the Weapons through a little hardship. It makes them easier for the Meisters to read. Now. When I call a name, you head into the gym there, and start the line. There's a strip of red tape to mark where it should be." He points to the nearby building. Maka wonders who's going to be called. She has no idea who any of these people are, since she lived too far away to transfer in with friends. No idea who's any good. There's a moment while the instructor fiddles with a clipboard, then calls- "Maka Albarn!" The girl is dumbstruck. Out of all these people, she's at the top? But no time to wonder about it, time to start walking. Maka heads through the doors, her long black coat dripping on the floor. Suddenly annoyed by how utterly soaked she is, the girl tries to wring out her ash blonde hair as best as possible, but it's getting water all over the floor and she feels guilty enough to quit. Looking around, Maka spies the strip of tape, so she takes up her position as more students file in. Next is a tall, raven haired girl in a white dress. Maka pities her. It was clinging to her skin in a really... unfortunate way. Every pervert in the school would be ogling. After her is a pair of elegant, fashionable blondes in tight jeans and red tops. Maka almost snarls at them. She hates girls like that, more concerned with appearance than anything else. Well, at the very least they were as wet as everyone else. Maybe a little vindictive, but she didn't really care. After them she ignores the rest of the procession, until all fifty Weapons are lined up across the gym. A different instructor, this one a scholarly type in a white lab coat, calmly issues orders.
"The Meisters will be in shortly. If you are asked to assume Weapon form, comply. If they tell you to come with them, you're partners. That will be all." He steps into the background as the first of the Meisters walks in. It's a guy, middling height, dressed in black, with charcoal colored hair and a pale, refined face. And dare she say absolutely gorgeous? Maka's eyes are slightly drawn to him as he passes, but then she reverts back to staring at the wall. No. Idiot. Don't do that. He browses the line, walking back and forth, back and forth. How long was this guy going to take? Cuteness notwithstanding, he was getting extremely annoying. Finally a dry, deadpan voice resounds throughout the silent room.
"Them." He says, pointing at the pair of blondes. "Kindly change, merely to satisfy my curiosity." The pair glows, becoming a pair of stylish silver pistols. The guy grabs them out of the air, inspecting them. Finally he nods in approval. "Follow me." He says, stalking out of the gym as the two change back and trail after him. The instructor from outside, who is manning the door, bows deeply as he passes. Now what was that about? But Maka doesn't have much time to worry about it. New Meister in the room. It's another guy.
"Hmm." He mutters in a deep, rasping baritone. This one is somewhat tall, with tanned skin and spiky gray hair that radiates around his head. He's wearing a black leather jacket, matching jeans, and a bright orange shirt. And to top it all off his eyes are an unsettling crimson, so bright they seem to glow. But they're quickly closed in concentration as he repeats the ritual of the weird kid from earlier. Like a pendulum he swings blind across the line, sometimes inspecting someone like a cut of meat. Maka finds him extremely unsettling. He's actually really cute when he doesn't move. But when he starts doing anything, there's this sense of subtle unease coating his every action. Finally he stops at Maka. "If you wouldn't mind." He asks. It isn't really phrased like a question. The girl is already closing her eyes, reaching for the well of power deep within her. There's a brilliant flash across her vision, leaving little spots. And suddenly she's in her Room. It's sparsely furnished with two chairs and an artistic coffee table between them. The floor is tiled black and white, and the ceiling fades into darkness like an infinite starless sky. But it's the walls that are really interesting. They wrap all the way around the room, showing her the world outside. She sees the Meister, holding a sword. It's a single edged, silvery white blade, slightly curved at the end, with a handle carved in intricate runes that smoothly transitions into the blade. There is no guard. He does an experimental twirl and Maka can almost feel the rushing breeze as the sword cuts through the air. "You can turn back now." He tells her, and she's mostly glad it's over. She wasn't picked, oh well, he was kind of a creep anyway. There's another brilliant glow and Maka is back in the gym, dripping on the floor. "Follow me." He says. Wait, what!
"Uh..." She starts. What was going on here? They were partners? Why did he just choose her? Out of reflex more than anything else she starts walking beside him.
"I said c'mon. Do you need a change of clothes or something?" He asks as they go out through the doors, pushing past this short, muscular, blue haired guy. Well. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. I mean, he was the first freaking person to ask that. But Maka was still in a state of partial shock. The person she would be spending the rest of her education with, possibly life with, and it's decided in two words from someone she doesn't even know. The girl already had a headache. This was way weirder than she had deluded herself into thinking it would be. Like, how could she have ever thought this would be even close to normal? How did she manage to convince herself that on the way here? If she could only figure it out she could make a fortune as a hypnotist.
"When we're done I have some in my bag... but I don't know where it is. They said they'd deliver it to my residence, whatever that means..." He grunts. "So..." Maka is going to make conversation if it kills her. "Hi. I'm Maka. And you are?"
"Soul Eater." He replies. Ok. Definitely creepy. They're turning and twisting down a maze of stone hallways, and Maka is thoroughly confused about where they are. She hasn't really been paying attention, instead studying Soul, and trying to calm the whirlwind in her head.
"Where are we going?" She asks.
"Office. Need to get signed up. Then they're going to give us some idiotic 'get to know eachother' homework and we're going to head out."
"Head out to..."
"My place." He replies. Once again, what?
"I'm going to your house!" Maka squeaks. Didn't they have dorms or something? If at all possible Maka would even take a cardboard box in an alleyway over staying with this... Soul person. She doesn't know him at all!
"Apartment, actually. But yup. Standard DWMA rules." She can almost hear the sarcastic air quotes when he continues- "It fosters community among Weapon and Meister as they begin their journey together." Maka can't help it, she giggles a little. "But yeah, sorry if it freaks you out. It's not my decision. And to be honest I'm kinda a slob so..." She realizes he's probably just as uncomfortable with this as she was. Therefore, she's going to be cheerful. Things had already been done, because presumably he couldn't take her back to the gym and ask for a refund like he was returning a broken record. No... she would have to make the best of it...
"Well, it'll be fine. So, describe it to me! Your apartment I mean." Maka says, already adjusting. If there was one thing she could do it was settle into a new place, what with traveling all over the world. Her mother always said she was too much of a restless soul to settle down, which basically meant Maka was somewhere new every six months. It had become a way of life. Now if only she could extend that to this, things might settle into something resembling normalcy.
"Uh. My apartment... let's see. There's a living room in the middle. A bedroom. Guest room. Kitchen. Bathroom in each of the bedrooms." He shrugs. "It's pretty basic." Well, it sounded larger than half the places Maka had stayed in in the past two years. That was something. "Though I'm gonna need to clean out the guest room." That was something, but not in a good way. But before Maka can ask more, Soul says- "We're here." They're outside a pair of unremarkable glass doors, just like hundreds of others they had passed. Soul pushes open the door and they head in, to be confronted by... is it a mummy? Maka can see a strip of chocolate brown skin with hazel colored eyes around a mess of bandages covered in a nurses outfit. Long, twisted ropes of hair stick out at odd angles from what Maka assumes is a head.
"Afternoon Soul. Or is it morning?" Comes a soft, soothing voice, like dripping honey.
"It's morning Naigus." He tells her, stepping up to the desk that the mummy is seated behind.
"So, who might this be?" The mummy thing asks.
"Maka Albarn." Maka replies.
"Humm. Albarn... Albarn... ah yes. Very high marks. Quite commendable. By the by, a small question."
"Mhmm?"
"Is your mother Kami Albarn, by any possible chance? I went to school with her you see."
"Yup. That's my Mama." Maka can hardly believe this bandage wrapped monstrosity was as old as her mom. That was... more than a little strange.
"Ahh. You should be proud, little one. She did after all create Lord Death's personal Weapon." Maka narrows her eyes. The Weapon in question was her father, and any mention of him was liable to send her into a fury. Stupid, cheating bastard. He was one of the few things she felt comfortable swearing about, though only mentally. "Or maybe I shouldn't bring that up." Naigus mutters, scribbling industriously on a form. With a brief ripping noise she hands it to Soul. "Here you are. Merely have this ready for all your teachers on the first day, then you can throw it out."
"Ok. Thanks. See ya." Soul calls, a series of short, sharp sounds. They're back out in the halls, going down a flickering, torch lit staircase.
"So, who's she?"
"The nurse. And she fills in for the secretary when she's... indisposed."
"Indisposed? What do you mean?"
"Uh, no. Not answering that one." They descend into a large, spacious garage. Soul pulls a set of keys out of his jacket pocket, spinning them around his finger as they walk along the concrete slab. He pauses at a big, black motorcycle with stylized orange designs chasing across it. Maka has to admit, it's a really sweet bike. Soul sticks in the keys and twists, producing a steady thrum from the engine. "Get on." He tells her.
"Do we have helmets?" She asks, eyeing the thing dubiously. Sweet bike yes. But less so if she falls off and kisses the considerably less sugary pavement at sixty miles an hour. Soul chuckles dryly, already seated and ready to go.
"Do we have helmets." He laughs, and Maka sighs. That would be on her list of things she definitely needed to buy. Hesitantly she climbs on behind him. Does she wrap her arms around his waist? That's what they did in movies. But for whatever odd reason, like maybe him being a complete stranger, she doesn't want to be all pressed up against him. Though admittedly, he seems pretty cool so far. Maka eventually decides on holding onto his shoulders. It may not be the safest, but it doesn't involve any awkwardness. He revs the bike and it roars, then sends them shooting out of the garage and onto the road.
Author Comments: Ok. So I don't like this chapter much, but I am really digging the second one. Also, it starts a bit slow kiddies. The goal here is for this to be a real, novel length story. So bear with me if I get into exposition. But really, go read chapter two. Pretty please?