With another term starting, Death City roared with the sound of new students, with each wave more different than the one before. An era of relative peace descended on the world after the Kishn's defeat. The witches signed a peace treaty with Death, and further measures have been taken to prolong and securing peace.

Global threats have ben solved, but new ones arrive, or ones that did not deem too dangerous were left unattended, teaching and training new students is just as important as when Kishin was large at dispersing insanity.

With this in mind, one shouldn't be surprised when special cases of Meisters and Weapons show up. This is a story of a group of such students, made up of sixteen students needing attention and care, for whatever reason.

Death, his two weapons, Elizabeth and Patricia, stood on the stage in the theatre, adressing a small mob of bright eyed people of various ages.

The raven haired principal with three white rings cleared his throat. "Your application papers and test results were, in a sense, extraordinary. Maybe you are in possession of a curious ability, maybe you excel in something most people struggle. Whatever the reason, we have decided to treat you with special attention, and to have an interview with each and every one of you," he finished his speech after recovering from a disturbance. Said disturbance was Pat snapping out on a pair of talkers.

Someone raised his hand. A boy with glasses and a pocketwatch.

"Yeah?" Pat nodded at him, Death hoping she won't started yellink and shooting as she did before.

"Does this mean we have a high chance to get into Shibusen, if not guaranteed?" He asked.

"Good question," Elizabeth said, looking down in her clipboard, "a very high chance. You're practically accepted. We'll just ask a couple of question to see if you really are DWMA material," she answered.

"Thank you," the boy said, checking his watch.

"Please," Elizabeth nodded. "Any more questions?" She answered the less interesting ones. "Okay, we'll be calling you in by alphabetical order of your surnames. If there is already a Meister-Weapon pair, we'll call you at the same time. Feel free to do what you want, as long as you don't leave this room."

After letting that sink in, Death called out the first name, a girl from Europe, with lush black hair and brown eyes. She wore jeans and a red top, sporting a tattoo on her left arm that looked like guitar strings. She was a Weapon, an blood red axe with a black blade. She could appearantly play her tattoo like an instrument, thanks to a technique yet unknown and unique to her.

Following her was a young man the size of a wardrobe, nothing but muscle. His sheer strength was enough to turn gazes towards him, when he stood up and accidently broke the table. He is a Meister with a plain record and ancestors, though, there was a bit of a gray area around his great-grandparents on his father's side.

A small framed boy with thick glasses saundered in, steering clear of the behemoth. Make no mistake, he was big and bulky, but docile. This boy, however, was looking fragile and sickly. A Weapon with great knowledge, his form is of an ornate dagger.

After him, a boy from Western Europe went in, charming and a polyglot, his cold, distant self quickly became apparent for Death almost instantly. He could change into a whip, or turn one of his limbs into a whip. He also wrote 'master acrobat/parkour/gymnast' as a talent.

Next in was a pair, a brother and sister from Western Europe, Weapons, but Meisters in a sense that they can wield each other. Not like they need to. With a proven relation to Pot of Fire and Pot of Thunder, Kilik Lung's partners. This time though, the names are Alexia and Fernando, the girl manipulating water, and the boy manipulating earth.

Pair after the pair, this was between a Meister and Weapon. Two guys, two artists. The Meister, working with pencils and brushes, the Weapon working with music. Now, the focus is on the latter. His form is of a book of sorts, with empty pages, but whatever is drawn, comes to life. For a short while that is.

The pocketwatch person was next, a Meister who claima he can use any Weapon, because he can adapt to anyone's wavelength. Thanks to the Spartli mingling with the new students, this was tested and approved with the help of Tsubaki, Soul, and the Thompson sisters. Further discussion revealed that his mother was a witch. His theme, is an owl, his mantra is 'howl our owl'.

Another weapon walked behind the pulled curtains. A young man with copper red hair and green eyes. The only Death Scythe. An Autonomous Weapon, an Iron Mauden. He cane to DWMA to get the teachings of a Demon Weapon. According to him, he lived in Scotland hunting Evil Humans, and eating the soul of a Witch called Margaret.

A Meister with an exceptionally strong soul came on stage. Shoulder length bleached hair that ends in a rainbow of colours. Her eyes were gray, and her clothes either white, gray, or black. Unfortunately, she had zero experience in fighting in tandem, or against Evil Humans. She could, however do things thanks to her soul.

Another girl followed her, a Weapon of questionable morality. Even her soul was split in two, a green, and a brown side, just like her eyes. She claimed to be a Weapon of mass destruction. She did have records of causing mayhem. She definetly needs supervision. Patricia seemed to find part of her psychotic tendencies in her. Death too, found her unsettling.

An interesting Weapon came after her. She wasn't even a weapon of sorts, she could turn into a telescope, which not only zoomed in on targets, but also enhancing the sounds, easily eavesdropping. In weapon form, she was able to shoot a laser.

There was a bit of waiting before the next person walked up the stage. He was lost in a conversation with the pocketwatch guy. But Patricia kindly convinced him to get on stage, and Death convinced the crazed lady to stop shooting. This laid back individual was a Weapon, capable of turning into a whip.

A large built, muscular guy with close cropped dark hair and a green cap trudged up the stage. He had that stereotypic lumberjack feel. He was a capable Meister, who already took time and effort to talk to other people. He had hands on experience in fighting against an Evil Human at a young age.

The direct descendant of famous detective Joe Buttataki was the last person to be quesioned. Isaac was skilled in reading of people's souls, and wanted to become a Meister, vowing to do everything he could do to help minimize the chance someone ending up like his father.

Witch each of the sixteen candidates interviewed, the interviews recorded, Death stepped out from behind the curtains, and adressed the people.

"Thank you for your patience and cooperation. We will send necessary information to you by both e-mail and regular mail. Information like mandetory materials and know-hows, classes to take, opportunities. Tomorrow and Thursday, you will have a team building days. On Friday, you will pick your partners and team members, if you haven't already," he said. "Thank you, dismissed"

The guy with the pocketwatch raised his hand.

"Yes, this does mean you all are accepted to the Devil Weapon and Meister Academy," he answered the unasked question with a smile.

The crowd broke into a cheer and clapping. Some were wild and danced around, others had a sly smile and reserved claps. The three officials left by the back door, leaving them unattended.

They quieted down to chatter, but then a single voice overpowered everything. It was from a boy, hanging upside down from the ceiling, his leg, a whip.

"Hello hello, yes, up here," he waved his hand, "I'm Trevor, a Weapon as you can seen Single and partnerless, ladies are preferred, gentlemen are fine too," he winked. "Now that we all are a merry class, I thought we could hang out, discover Death City, maybe crash by my place. Ya know, get to know each other. Why wait for tomorrow?"

"Where do you live?" Someone asked.

"Macabre Lane 48, close to the market."

"Cool cool."

"Get down here, let's go!" A sun kissed American said.

Trevor turned his leg back to normal, landed elegantly and seamlessly, and led the troupe.

To much of Amadeus's surprise, everyone soicialized while the interview's went on. He made quite a few acquaintances, actually, he talked with everyone and gained some nice informations. He took out his watvh from his shirt's pocket. He smiled, 'Time spent well,' he thought to himself.

He was around the middle, talking with Aiden, a Weapon from the United Kingdom. It was nice finding someone from the motherland. He is a very sophasticated young man, with logical thinking and a clear out look on life. Very pleasant.

"So there I was, fighting this woman who pretended to be a vampire. She was shrieking and cursing at me, and I have to give it to her, she was pretty close in gettin me. I even let her feel victorious when she grabbed me, and when she was abput to bite me, zoink!" And as he finished, a needle popped out of his neck. "You can't imagine her surprise," he laughed.

Aiden was wearing an orange tee and jeans, he walked with his hand behind his neck, his curly hair, almost the colour of carrot, bounced with every step. His emerald green eyes scanning his classmates like a wolf eyes sheep. Or a big brother watching over little kids.

"Don't mind me asking, but why are you checking the time every minute?" He asked, nodding at the item in question.

"Obsessive complusive disorder," Amadeus said bluntly. "What about you? Why come here, when you are a Death Scythe?"

After a bit of silence,he answered in a low voice. "I never really got proper education," he pulled a finger to his lips, "but shh, that's a secret," he said.

"Interesting," he said, scratching his nose. He started to have a real bad sickly feeling in his stomach. "I graduated on the top of my class, I'd be glad to help," he offered. He crossed his fingers. 'Please don't think I'm trying to flirt, lease don't think that,' he repeated over and over in his head.

"I'd love that, thanks," he extended his hand, and they shook.

"Little known fact that might be obvious," he started, "my people skills are poor, so if I say or do something awkward, please forgive."

"Ha!" Aiden laughed. "We are perfect pair. You're the genius, I'm the people person."

"But I don't think so pairing you up with someone is a good idea."

"Yeah, no. Iron Maidens walk alone, or Meisterless at least. Though we could be in a team."

"That'd be nice."

"Cool," Aiden nodded.

At the start was Trevor, talking with another pretty attractive representative of his gender. Trevor was wearing dark blue shorts and a blue sweatshirt, having his wavy nutbrown hair fall aimlessly behind his ears.

His conversation partner was wearing a striped white wifebeater and denim shorts, strutting around in flip flops. He had sun bleached brown hair, and skin that had equally visible effects of the sun.

"Where did you say you were again?" Trevor asked.

"The Frech Riviera, Côte d'Azure, the place for the rich and famous!" He said each part of his answer with equally deserved dramatization.

"And the good looking," Trevor added.

"Well, that goes without saying," Pierre said with a wink. "And you?"

"I'm from LA, home of stars," he said proudly. "Turn left here."

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"To a bar. I think everyone is of legal age. Death City has it at eighteen. But I also know a cafe, and after we could go to the park. There is one nearmy place and it's fully equipped."

"Sounds nice."

"It's good. It has a basketball court, ping pong tables. It even has work out machines. The other half has all the regular park things."

"So you like working out?"

"Hitting two birds with one stone. Being fit is a plus in life, mandetory for us now, and people enjoy looking at something pleasing. I'm glad we share this philosophy. Do you do sports?"

"Yeah. I was in my school's basketball and baseball team. But I did soccer, swimming, and surfing. Not counting parkour and gymnastics."

"Damn boy, you are the definition of a jock. Ya know, without all the negative things. I didn't so much, soccer, american football, tennis. But I did do a lot of weights."

"That's good too."

"Yeah, hey. Just gonna come clean and confess. You seem like a pretty nice guy, and you have a personality, and you're fit, you look darn fine-" Trevor said,but Pierre cut him off.

"Dude, are you asking me out?" He sounded more disgusted than surprised.

"What? No man! I'm a Weapon, you're a Meister, we could pair up. I think we could make a good team."

"Oh, oh okay. I was worried for a bit."

"Wow. Really. You honestly thought I'd do that?"

"Weirder things have happened!"

Trevor pointed to the right, a large appartment building.

"I live here everyone!" He yelled to the back.

"Hey, I live here too, on the third floor," Pierre nudged him.

Saying that Hans was nervous, would be the understatement of the year. He did get into the Academy, which was nice. Going back to his family wasn't a choice, they made it quite clear that he won't be welcome anymore. Sure, he got in, but what if he can't do something basic, he'll be expelled.

He'll have nothing to do, and...and...

"Haans? Yoohoo, are you here?" Alícia waved her hand before him.

Her brother, Alonso, whispered something in Spanish to her.

"Oh shut up," she pushed him.

And then there was them, two Magic Weapons from Spain. The girl was cutr, with blond hair, a few highlights in it, and light eyes. She had a short top on, andjeans. Her brother had dense dark hair and darker eyes, sporting a white shirt and shorts.

Alícia was nice, talkative, kind. Her brother, the opposite, reserved and spiky. They turned into large arm guards, and could use water and earth as weapons. Or so they told him.

"Sorry, I just got lost in my thoughts," Hans excused himself.

"That's quite insulting," Alonso said, "it means our company isn't good enough for you."

"Jesus, go bother someone else. Not everyone is a social butterfly."

Her brother growled something in their language, then left them to talk to Isaac.

"You have to excuse him. He can be prickly. He also doesn't like guys talking to me. But he's nice, once he gets to know you."

"How come he's so protective? My brothers usually beat me up, " that earned a concerned look. "Oh no, not like that. We are four as brothers, and we wrestle and fight and everything. Just for the kicks. Nothing serious. We are very close, and jump when someone messes with one of us."

"Okay, I was beginning to worry. Well, you know, guys in spain are total gym bunnies who only want snu-snu."

"What's a gym bunny, and what's snu-snu?"

Alícia looked at him like he grew another head, and smiled. "A gym bunnybis somene who goes to the gym for the sake of looking good. Alonso is a bit of gym bunny," she said thelast part quietly. "And snu-snu is...how should I put it," she sighed, then formed a with her index finger and thumb, and moved her other index through the hole.

"That's shallow."

"Pretty much. There was this guy who was a bit too persistant, as in, he stalked me. Then he attacked me once, but I ended up killing him, and collecting my first Kishin Egg," she said, "I was ten."

"Wow, that's bad. And good, that you defended yourself, but, bad that you were attacked."

"Eh, he had it worse," she shrugged. Hans asked why. "He exploded. It was gory."

"Remind mme to treat you right."

"Damn straight, you don't mess with mama," she snapped her fingers in Z formation, and twirled her neck. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I heard you had a job before decidng to come here."

"Yeah. You know Scandinavia, large mountains, lots of forests. My family is the largest wood supplier in the whole of Europe. We make ship everywhere, for every reason. But we also do a lot of planting,so forests won't die out."

"That's cool. It also explains why you have arms like trunks," she said and grabbed his arm, then gave it a good squeeze. They continue walking like that, Alícia's arm around his. "Have you met Megara?" She asked.

"Who?" His voice was weak.

"Meg. You know, black hair, red top. Tall girl, bit flat. Pretty."

Hans thought about it, yeah, he remembered.

"You should talk to her. I think you could make a great pair. Ironic too, because she can turn unto an axe."

"Really? I'll be sure to talk to her then. Thanks," he said. Alícia nodded cheerfully.

The students marched into a park, and pooled around a fountain. Trevor climbed up on it.

"Okay, we could either go bar raiding, or send a couple of us to buy snacks and drinks, or just hang out here," he said. "Haven't got that far in my head."

"I think we should stay here. Give us a time when we should meet, and we're off. It's a big park, I'm sure we can occupy ourselves," Isaac said.

"Sounds good?" Trevor asked everyone, and they agreed.

People dispersed, Isaac and Yzma said their goodbyes to meet new friends.

The former left an impression on the latter. Did Yzma develop a crush? Maybe, maybe. But that's no problem. He is good looking, has a good sense of humor, he is a bit too innocent though. Nothing that can't be fixed.

She could feel her classmates' souls, some were already making connections, friendships growing. Isaac had the uncanny ability to read someone's Soul Wavelength like a book, while she she could detect finer things in them. Things like, their next action, or thoughts.

Yzma went to a booth to buy some ice cream.

"I'd like a vanilla and a tiramisu please," she said and put exact change on the counter.

"Here you go," the vendor said.

"Thanks."

Isaac could be someone she can love. At least until she got in control of her powers. Hearing random thoughts while walking on the street can be disorientating. Maybe she could hit on the red head, or th lumberjack. Either way, Isaac is a good person.

'Oh my god. Her hair is the bomb,' she heard a female thought. Yzma looked around and found a classmate of hers looking. 'Shit. She noticed me. Now she thinks I'm a creeper. Not like I'm not one, but I don't go around advertising it.' She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the black haured girl. 'Okay. Here we go,' she heard her think.

"Hey, sorry. I wasn't creeping on you," the girl said.

"It's okay. A lot of people stare." She scooted over. "I'm Yzma."

"And I am not Kronk. I'm Kate," she said ans sat down by her.

Yzma fought down the urge to say 'I guessed so,' as it freaks people out.

"I love your hair," Kate said. "Tried it once, I'm too tall for short hair," she smiled. "How did you make it like that?"

Finally! A person who doesn't think her hair is an abomination.

"Simple, really. First, I bleached my hair out, which wasn't very had, because I'm naturally blonde, but the really light milky one. Then I just told my hairdresser to dye me."

"It's really nice. I love it when people do little things to make themselves stand out. I usually do it with my nails," she said and raised her hands up, palms facing in. Each of her nails had the former Shinigami's mask.

"Sweet! Me, I'm not much good at decorating my body. I can hardly apply eyeliner, much less do something like that. I like your hair too. Always wanted long hair, but when I grew it out, it was heavy, and it got in the way, and it was just a nuisance," they laughed.

"I'm curious, why did you change your name to Yzma?" Kate asked.

"Let's just say, I would not like to meet the ones I left behind," she answered grimly.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't know it was a sour topic."

"It isn't, but it will when they find me."

"Why? Are you a wanted woman?" Kate jested and they laughed again.

No one knew how happy Yzma was that it wasn't Isaac who asked this question.

"You know Hans?" She prompted a new conversation topic.

"Do I? Pft, he's a total ass." Kate rolled her eyes. "He's hot, but what he did to Anna was cruel. I can see why he did what he did, and I salute to Disney for the twist, but still. Feels."

It took Yzma a second to realize what was going on, when she did, she laughed. He is such a sweet guy, a bit sheepish, but fun, why would anyone hate him?

"I ment our Hans," Yzma corrected herself. "The lumberjack." Kate had no idea. "Fine guy in the typical limberjack outfit. Plaid shirt, sleevs pulled out, jeans, boots. Has wider shoulders, smaller hips. Kinda big, but not like Goliath."

Goliath was the nickname everyone used for Jack.

Kate sucked air in through her teeth.

"That guy has the booty. Yeah. I've been eyeing him. He looks pretty darn fine." Yzma agreed with her. "Why? You want him for yourself?"

"I can step down sister, I have two other choices."

"You player," Kate bumped her shoulder to Yzma's. "But really, why ask?"

"With all due fairness, I've heard you can turn into an ax, and he cuts trees with an ax, so I thought, huh, a match made in Heaven."

"So his look isn't just for show?" She asked. "Yuss!" She formed a fist and pulled her hand down in a victory pose. "I will make him mine."

"You mean like a boyfriend, or like a slave?" Yzma asked with a wide smile.

"Yes." she answered with a serious, blank tone.

Then they laughed again. This time Kate snorted while doing it, and Yzma sounded like a dying seal. Ah, the magical sound of true laughter. Now they were just laughing at each other.

So many people. Like, twenty. That's a lot. Friends? Maybe. Enemies? Maube. She couldn't decide, just that there were a lot of people, and she didn't like it when there were lots of people. She was scared It'll come.

She sounded a supressed screech from her throat.

She doesn't like It. It doesn't like, people, animals, order, or basically everything that isn't chaos and death. She moaned. Why did she join? The symmetry guy must have seen that she was different. Oh yeah, that is exactly why. Maybe they can help. They must help fast though, before It comes.

Someone yelled at her. She flinched. No, not at her, towads here. To get her attention. She looked, and saw that a ball was flying at her. She panicked. Nect thing she knew, the ball was going away from her amazingly faced, and slammed into the wall withbsuch firce it burst.

She shrieked, and ran away, apologizing.

Now she was in a different place. Lot more quiet. Good. Quiet is good. Alone, surrounded by green. What did Whipfist say? Three hours? Four? They are sure to search for her when she doesn't show up, right? Right?

She pulled her legs up to her chin, and rocked back and forth.

Someone ran into her and fell over, tossing her to the ground, causing her to scream as she got up. Someone attacked her! They'll take her back! Shr was about to counterattack, when she found out it was a girl, who was equally scared.

"Aah...aah...calm down. Okay, no need to cry," she said softly, both to the girl and to herself. Then she remembered. "Here, do you wantvsome candy?" She showed her what she held in her palms, colourful pieces of delights.

"Mom said strangers have poisoned candy," the girl said between big gulps of breath.

She popped a pink one in her mouth.

"No poison here. Just strawberry," she managed a smile, calming the girl.

Unsure at first, the little girl took a candy and put it in her mouth, but after she tasted that disgustingly sour taste, she spat it out.

"Ew, gross, lemon," she whined. "Do you have grape?" She asked the girl.

"Of course," she said and gave a purple one to her.

"Sorry I hit you," she said, sucking on the candy. "I didn't see you."

"It's okay. Sorry I screamed. You scared me," she said, trying to this was notmal to say.

"You have really pretty eyes," she said. "Were you born like this?"

"Thank you," she blushed. "Yes, I was," she lied. She actually doesn't know, but she read that everyone is born with blue eyes, so probably no, she wasn't born like this. "You have a really pretty, uh," she looked atvthe girl. She was seven, eight years old, wearing a yellow summer drrss. Ugh, she hates yellow. "Smile. Real pretty. I bet all the boys like you."

"Blegh. Boys are like lemons."

"When you cut them you can make a drink?" She felt It crawling up her windpipe.

"No silly," the girl giggled, "they are gross."

"Hehehe, wait ten years and that will change," she smiled, but she was wildly thrashing around in her head, trying to run away before It does something.

"No it won't," she said, so sure of herself. "Boys eat buggers, and they smell, and spit and it's really gross."

"They will change too, believe me." She stood up. "But now I must go and" what? Tell her that she'll find another place she can be alone? But the little girl grabbed her leg.

"Can you stay a while longer? Please?" The little girl almost pleaded.

"Why?" She asked, and got her question instantly.

The bushes parted, and a man leaned in. He was in his thirties, looked normal, but something was off. Maybe he was tired, that's why he had baggy eyes that were a bit blood shot. She looked like that too sometimes. Still, he scared her and she had to bite her tongue not to attack him.

"There you are darling," the man said with a smile. The little girl tugged het leg a bu)it harder. "I'm sorry if she bothered you. She has a wild imagination," he said apologetically.

He was hiding something.

Then, she saw it. Eyes too dark, too red, teeth too sharp, nails too long skin too pale. Twitching. And the man knew she saw. And she saw the man

was thinking, and thinking, and he thought himself adventorous, so he lunged forward, teeth bared and nails ready.

It surfaced.

Her mind went black. Then it turned on again, but now, it felt like she was watching a movie.

The man attacked, but she sent him flying with a right hook. She jumped up, grabbed the man by the legs, and slammed him to the ground. She began stomping on him, feeling that music of crushing bones. She flipped him up and grabbed his head. Bodily fluids escaped him in little rivers and volcanos. She turned and pushed his head into the wall of the maintenance shack over and over again, and he was screaming, and she was screaming, and it was so nice.

People were watching, staring, dumbfounded. They even called the police. Oh how surprised they will be when they see the truth. The man was still alive.

"I really should start training," she said to herself.

"Please...no...more..." The man breathed out.

"Halt! Let him go and raise your hand!" A policer officer said, hiding behind hus car and gun. If she'd be in full power, those two wouldn't help him.

She felt a sharp numbness by her side. With her free hand, she touched a protruding something. She looked down, and found a knife coming out of her body.

"Ha ha ha...bitch" he smirked.

She now just realised she heard her classmates call out to her. Pocketwatch must've talked to them, because they knew her name.

The policeman was clearly a newbie. He had no idea what to do.

Rita slowly turned to face her audience.

She lowered the man in front of her, who fell down to his knees. She then grabbed the top part of his mouth from above. And with a sleek motion, ripped the man's head off.

Well, half of it, but that wasn't the case.

There was no blood, or body. Just a flurry of black smoke, and a soul with red markings were left behind.

"I claim your soul," Rita said, after gulping it down.

AN: Please forgive the hiccups, I will do my best to correct them. Also, please do review. Like a character, don't like something. Enjoyed a part or not. (Please be constructive.) Thank you!
HA HA HA. So you can't make paragraphs the old fashioned way. Whatevs.
If you end up spotting all the references, write something you'd like to happen (make it realistic guys(which is hard given the small amount of information, but still)) and it might just.