The Gift of Character [1 - School Work]

Damien Vocifero inspected himself in the mirror. Giving a vain smile to himself. For he was considered, one of the most handsome of mages in the land. With his elf-like nimble features and dark red hair, combed to the right, keeping his mysterious brown eyes in the shadows. Full of mystery and the secrets of magic...

Or that’s rather what Flynn’s character looked like. Flynn was writing a fantasy novel and he wanted his character panned out in all details. Damien Vocifero, The Mage of Mages, The Spirit of Nature.

He often got lost in his thoughts of Damien Vocifero. With him more in Flynn’s mind image than what’s described of him in his novel. He often thought of smaller sub-stories of Damien’s adventures and never wrote them down, which was a shame because most of his inspiration came at unexpected moments, just before going to bed, while in school and even on the toilet! Maybe he should carry a notepad?

“Flynn Ryder! So, what is the answer?” Knocking Flynn out of his thoughts he looked up at his stern-eyed teacher, Mr Parsley, Religious Education. He knew that by now that Mr Parsley targets the students who are not listening. Flynn looked at the whiteboard, OK, ‘The Symbolisation of Christmas.’ There were also 3 Questions on the board, he picked 2 out randomly.

“Ermm, Christmas Day?” He saw the faces on his fellow students and knew that he had chosen the wrong answer, or maybe the wrong question. He saw Mr Parsley’s face light up and he knew he was going to milk this wrong answer until it was as dry as a desert wasteland. “So, you think that Christmas Day visited the Virgin Mary? Oh, you are so smart now, aren’t you, I suppose you will not mind writing out the entire Christmas Story with the head of your year if your such an expert?”

Flynn looked down in dismay, by now Mr Parsley’s face looked as smug as a clown. Flynn sighed: “Sorry sir, should I come at break or lunch-break?” With a smug look of justice on his face he said: “Break is next, you can write it out during then.” Then the bell went off, indicating break had started. Flynn sighed once more and rose out of my chair and left the room with everybody else while Mr Parsley was reminding us about our homework to be in for next week.

Flynn fleeted through the halls, rushing to get to his Head of Year’s room, Mr Wordsworth. Flynn never had a Head of Year in his primary school, most probably because it was so small they never needed a separate headmaster or headmistress for each of the years they were in.

As Flynn came to the door he thought of opening it and walking in. But he threw the thought away and decided to knock. There was no answer. He waited outside for five solid minutes, and heard some faint whispering, strange, he thought. Because the door was locked when he checked. Flynn put hid ear to the door and tried to hear there conversation:

“...But one of them may have The Gift of Character!” -Mr Wordsworth’s voice, and what is this ‘Gift of Character?’ Then a squeakier voice came into being, more timid, yet Flynn could hear a tone of leadership when he spoke. “But with The Threat lurking around it’s a challenge to find people with the gift, yet alone with the large enough amounts of...”

The bell went off, pulling him away from my eavesdropping. What were they talking about? It may just be a film Mr Wordsworth was watching, or he may have been on the phone. But why could he hear the squeaky voice so clearly and he was positive it was Mr Wordsworth’s voice, not on a film. There’s got to be hundreds of explanations, but Flynn did not want to ponder on that matter now, he just wanted to get to his lesson’s before he was given another detention for been late.

Flynn checked his planner, my next lesson was English. He winced in fear, it was Mr Wordsworth lesson, apart from been a Year Head he also taught English, he was still hesitant about what I overheard while outside his office and that Flynn didn't do the detention giving to him from RE. Look, your imagination is getting away from you, just calm down, he reassured myself.

Flynn ran up the stairs, two at a time, knowing that everyone else was in there classrooms and the late bell was going to go off in any second now. All the while he was looking back and forth for Mr Wordsworth. Flynn opened his classroom door to see a substitute teacher, he was explaining to the class that Mr Wordsworth called in sick this morning and that he had left a lesson plan for us. That lesson was to design a character. He read A POSITIVE CHARACTER in big letters across the sheet while he was standing at the door-frame. Flynn smiled as he went to his desk and sat down. This would be the perfect opportunity to create a detailed description of Damien Vocifero, he forgot my past fears and got to work.

Flynn brought out my notes and drawings. He decided it would look neater on a clean page, not in his book. He wrote a well detailed profile with the help of his notes and attached a few of the drawings he made and other notes using paper-clips.