Note:

I don't own Weiss, but I expect you knew that already.

Just a reminder for everyone-- do not try to enroll in the WFA through the review board. Your application will be ignored. 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.

Note to applicants: I realize I didn't ask you for a physical description in that form. If you want to supply one, go ahead. As a general rule, I'm really just making them up.

The Weiss Fanfiction Academy

Day one of classes

It was early. Really. Early.

Clara peered out from beneath her thin dormitory blanket. She wished she'd brought one from home-- she'd spent the night shivering on the mattress, which had all the softness of a brick, and wondering if the staff had taken it upon themselves to make the students as uncomfortable as possible.

She'd been awoken by the sound of Fury walking about the room, talking to herself under her breath. The girl was now seated on her bed, pulling on what appeared to be hockey pads.

"What are those for?" Clara asked, barely managing to control her tired vocal chords.

Fury shrugged. "You can never be too careful. I have Characterizationfirst, and I've heard tell that Farfarello teaches it."

Clara gulped. "Really? That's my first class, too."

Note to self: buy body armor. Soon.

"Have you written Farfarello fanfiction, then?"

"Well," Clara hesitantly admitted, "there was one . . . a humor fic, and, er . . ."

Fury was silent for a moment. She watched Clara's nervous expression. She rubbed at a scratch in the paint on the wall. Then she turned back to her roommate, and said, "Whatever happens, my friend, know that you have my deepest sympathies." With that, she finished tightening her kneepads, and strode out of the room. "Class in ten minutes!" she called back over her shoulder. "You might want to get up!"

Clara swore. She threw her blanket off and pretty much leapt out of bed. The Characterization class was in the main building, on the opposite side of the campus. She pulled a sweater on over her pajamas, yanked on her shoes without socks, and bolted from the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

She ducked through the crowds, mentally cursing the large amount of people who seemed to be taller than herself, and finally, made her breathless way to the main building. At this point, she realized that she'd forgotten her room key. (1)

Clara found the classroom with relatively little difficulty (2) and staggered to an empty seat. The bell rang. Muscles she hadn't known existed relaxed. She wasn't late. Oh, thank the gods of yaoi, she wasn't late.

She glanced about. A few seats were still empty.

A deep voice at the front of the room chuckled softly. "Those of you who were on time can feel lucky. There are more to come, and they will soon be very unhappy."

Clara shuddered. Fearfully, she peered at the speaker from the corner of one eye. Farfarello, of course.

The door creaked open slightly. Farfarello's pale lips formed an eerie grin. He stared intently at the door. Two students, a boy and a girl, crept in, heads ducked low, and had made it nearly to their seats when they were stopped.

"Hello, students." Farfarello stood in their way, gazing a rather long distance down at the two.

"Hello," the boy responded, eyes suddenly gone very wide. He grinned nervously, and a bead of sweat stood out on his temple.

The girl stood in frozen silence.

"What are your names?" Farfarello questioned, head tilted to one side.

"Ehm. I . . ."

"Well?"

"Dani," said the boy. "I'm Dani. Can I . . . go sit down?"

Farfarello said nothing, only focused his gold eye more intently on the boy.

". . . Please?"

"And you?" asked Farfarello. He looked at the girl. "Who are you?"

"My name is Camilla," she replied.

Farfarello nodded. He strode across the room and sat down on a tall stool near the blackboard. "Sit down, Camilla. Dani."

The two slunk to their chairs, and, exchanging uneasy glances, sat.

"Welcome to Characterization, students. This class will be vital to your writing. We will tear apart stereotypes and cliches, fix common misconceptions, and many other troubles beginning writers seem to have . . ."

As Farfarello continued on, Clara noticed both Camilla and Dani visibly relaxing. Dani propped his chin up on one hand.

Suddenly, Farfarello's low, even speech was interrupted by a loud BAM, and a yelp.

It appeared that Dani's desk had exploded. A moment later, Camilla's did the same.

The class surveyed the smoldering wreckage. Clara felt faint suddenly. Neither of them were moving . . . she prodded at a piece of charred plywood with her foot. Beneath it, Dani emitted a muffled "Eep."

"Now. You won't be late again, will you?" Farfarello said pleasantly.

1) This is the sort of thing that is inevitable. When you are late, you have always forgotten something vital, such as keys, notebooks, shoes, pens, or getting dressed.

(2) "Relatively" in this case, may be better read as "without falling into a pit full of spikes concealed by discarded fanfictions."

Having a bit of trouble with Farfarello's character. He should improve soon.

Sorry for the short chapter-- next one will be much longer.

Questions? Comments? Snide remarks?