Note:

I don't own Weiss, but I promise I'll return it when I'm done.

Do not, I repeat, do not try to enroll in the WFA through the review board. Your application will not be accepted. Fanfiction.net guidelines forbid me to use the review board for anything but feedback. If I do so, my story will be removed. Please send any and all applications to my e-mail address, jiasachanyahoo.com. The format to use is at the bottom of chapter one.

The Weiss Fanfiction Academy

Once her feet were on solid ground, Clara felt marginally better. She spent the bus ride to the Academy campus trembling, but was relieved to find that her heart had not yet imploded. When the bus halted, she staggered onto the campus grounds, and followed the flow of the crowd. Signs pointed the way to dormitories, classrooms, and the main office.

It was several hours before Clara made her way into the office. She lurched up to the window, and blinked at the woman behind the glass. "I'm supposed to get my schedule?"

The woman adjusted her glasses, and turned to the computer. "Name, please?"

"Clara Henderson."

Clara couldn't help noticing that the woman never touched the keys. With fantastic speed, she pulled up the information on her computer and printed it out. She handed the schedule, campus map, and dorm information to Clara, who flinched. It was still hot from the printer. She waited, slightly impatient, for Caoimhe, who was close behind.

Caoimhe gnawed thoughtfully on her lower lip. "What classes do you have?" she asked.

Clara scanned her schedule. "'Characterisation: I Am Not a Cardboard Cut-Out,'" she replied. "Uhm . . . 'Yaoi: the Lemon, it Burns!' 'Eyes are Not Gemstones: De-purpling Your Prose,' and 'Remedial Reality.'"

Caoimhe stared. "You're a yaoi writer?" she said. (1)

"Yeah . . ." said Clara. "And?"

". . . Oh." replied Caoimhe.

There was a long moment's silence between the two. Clara stared at her shoes.(2) Caoimhe became suddenly very interested in her chipped black nail polish.

"Uhm, we've got Characterisation and Reality together," Caoimhe finally said.

"Cool," Clara managed.

The treck to the dorms was spent in rather stilted conversation. They were in the same building, only a few rooms apart.

"So, I'll . . . uh, see you in class," said Caoimhe, still a bit uncomfortable.

"Right," replied Clara. She fumbled with her key, and eventually managed to jam it into the lock. It turned with great difficulty, as if the lock had rusted with disuse. She had an eerie feeling, however, that it was doing this just to spite her(3). She glared at the door.

It smirked.

"Worse than the damn computer," Clara muttered, and gave it a kick. Her foot throbbed unhappily. The door didn't budge. She slammed her shoulder into the door, and it flew open. Clara landed in a heap at the feet of a short girl with glasses and a long braid.

"The door's a bit troublesome," said the girl. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"No," Clara said, massaging her shoulder. "Not at all."

Clara, with some difficulty, got to her feet and followed the other girl into the dorm room. A quick glance gathered that her possessions had already been brought in.

"My name is Fury," said the girl. "And you are . . . ?"

"Clara."

"Well then," asked Fury. "What are you doing penance for?"

Clara blinked.

Fury opened a desk drawer and rummaged in it, searching for something. "You know. Your trespasses. The reason you're here."

"Oh. Uhm . . ." Clara leafed through her papers, and pulled out her list of Crimes. "Use of purple prose, horrific characterization, vomit-worthy fluff, grossly inaccurate view of sexuality, over-use of commas . . ." She flinched. I never knew I was that bad, she thought. "What about you?"

"Well," said Fury, pulling what appeared to be her own list from the drawer, "when they built the university, they found me under a rock."

Clara stared.

"I jest not! Then they found my computer under another rock. I think Yohji's precise words were 'purpler than Aya's damned Sue-eyes.' Anyway, my punishment was, after they had finished building, to paint the entire university. With a paintbrush of this size!" Fury indicated about the size of a sharpie pen (4) with her hands.

"Uhm."

Fury grinned.

Clara looked about the room, and decided this was entirely possible. Some of the walls had up to three different colors on them.

"Anyhow," said Fury. "Shouldn't we be going?"

"Where?" Clara wondered.

Fury pointed to Clara's schedule. "The orientation," she said. "We've got . . ." she glanced at the clock. "Fifteen-point-three seconds. Let's see . . . the Great Hall is near the main office, so . . ."

"So we're doomed," Clara finished.

Fury thought for a moment. "Yes, basically," she replied.

It was a rather sweaty and out-of-breath Clara that stumbled into the Great Hall and found a seat near the back. She received a disapproving look from a woman who, after a moment's shock, she identified as Manx.

She nudged Fury with an elbow. "Fury . . . did you see?"

"Manx. Yes. And I ran into Aya this morning. Canon characters all over. They're most of the staff, plus some Kritiker and Rosenkreuz members. There are a few others. Militant fandom purists, mostly. They're the ones who created it, but supposedly the rest of the staff was more than glad to help."

"Ah."

Manx glared at them.

"I think we need to shut up," said Clara meekly. She sank lower into her seat, glancing back at Manx through the corner of one eye.

"Achem," said a voice from the stage. The microphone screeched unpleasantly. "Achem . . ." (SCREEEEEEEEE) "Oh, for frelling . . . oh, there we are." The woman smiled brightly. "Hello, students. Welcome to the Weiss Kreuz Fanfiction Academy. My name is Ms. Grim. I am headmistress at this esteemed university. If you try your hardest and follow the rules, you and I should get along very well. If you run afoul of me, you can expect pain, and many hours of hard work."

Fury shuddered, lost in memory.

"I expect you all will do your best," Ms. Grim said. There was a manic edge to her cheerful expression. "Now. I would like to introduce you to some of our staff members."

"It's not as if they don't already know who we are," said a flat, cool voice.

"Very well," said Ms. Grim. "Well. I would like you all to give a respectful welcome to the staff of our university."

At this point, Clara realised who the other figures on the stage were. "Oh, my--"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!" came the collective screech.

Fury clapped her hands over her ears and ducked under her chair.

Ms. Grim's hand tightened on the microphone. She twitched.

Clara followed Fury's lead.

"QUIET, FOOLS!" bellowed Ms. Grim.

The Hall fell silent.

Ms. Grim cleared her throat. "Achem. Well, then. I suppose that's all," she said. "Enjoy your term at the Academy, students. You may go.

(1) For the uninitiated, it may be in order to explain that "yaoi", or "hot guy-on-guy lovin'", is a subject of great controversy in anime fandoms. The writers belong mainly to two camps of thought. The first is "Eeeeee! Aya and Ken look so CUTE together!" The second is ". . . but I want them!"

(2) They were good shoes. They'd lasted three and a half years, despite continual abuse involving magic markers and a lawn mower.

(3) This was not, strictly speaking, inaccurate. You see, the doors, beds, tables, desks, and chairs in the university are all built with 100% Germanic Fighting-Pine.

(4) Possibly one of the most useful inventions known to man

Questions? Comments? Snide remarks?