Home / Fantasy / MEMORA, academy of magic / Finnick Black's notoriety.
Finnick Black's notoriety.
Author: Jeremiah
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

Finnick Black was a notorious figure in his small Old North State community, renowned for his acerbic wit and penchant for vexing authority figures. His repute as a troublemaker was further solidified by his penchant for openly mocking substitute teachers, while his persistent annoyance of school administrators, hall monitors, and cafeteria staff only served to cement his infamy. Despite the efforts of guidance counselors to assist him - prompted by his tragic background as an orphaned child - his caustic demeanor and sharp tongue left them wishing for his absence. He was easily recognizable by his perpetual scowl, unkempt brown hair, and piercing gray eyes. A devotee of skateboarding, although his proficiency in the activity had been hard-won, as evidenced by the dents he had inflicted upon several cars during his initial attempts. He was often observed loitering outside the premises of comic book stores, arcades, and video game stores. Even the Mayor had personal knowledge of him, having been unable to forget the incident in which he had surreptitiously liberated a naked mole-rat from the clutches of a pet store during the annual May Day parade, moved by compassion for the visually impaired, wrinkle-skinned creature's helplessness. He had also liberated the store's stock of white mice, who were destined to be fed to a boa constrictor, as a matter of principle.

He had not anticipated the rodent population to run rampant amidst the parade participants, as they possess limited cognitive capabilities. Similarly, he was taken aback by the reaction of the spectators, who demonstrated a lack of discernment, as his father had succinctly articulated post-event. Despite being absolved of responsibility for the parade's disruption, he was met with blame and condemnation, particularly by the mayor. To compound matters, his father had compelled him to relinquish the mole rat, as his father held a strict moral code against thievery, viewing it as a transgression on par with the use of magic.

As Landon sat restlessly in the uncomfortable chair outside the principal's office, he pondered the likelihood of his return to school and whether anyone would notice his absence. He incessantly ruminated on the various strategies he had been instructed to employ in order to fail the mage test, with the desired outcome being a conspicuous and dramatic failure. His father had repeatedly enumerated the potential methods of failure; such as rendering his mind completely blank, focusing on the antithesis of what the examiners sought, or directing his attention to another student's examination. He massaged his calf, which had been causing him discomfort and pain earlier that morning, a common ailment that seemed to worsen with his increasing height. He took solace in the fact that the physical aspect of the mage test, whatever it may be, would be a simple task to fail.

The auditory stimuli emanating from down the hallway permeated the eardrums of the individual as he discerned the distinct squeaks of athletic footwear against the polished surface of the wooden floor, accompanied by the boisterous vocalizations of his peers engaged in physical education class. A sense of longing luminous with longing and regret enveloped him, as he yearned for the opportunity to partake in such activities, despite his physical limitations. Despite his eagerness, and the boundless energy that coursed through his being, he was exempt from the mandatory physical education requirement due to the ailment afflicting his lower limb. Even during his formative years, when he attempted to partake in recess activities such as running, jumping, or climbing, a vigilant monitor would approach him, reminding him to exercise caution to prevent injury. Persistence in such endeavors would result in him being confined indoors.

As though a mere smattering of contusions were the epitome of misery that one could endure. As though his limb was destined to deteriorate further. Fin exhaled a sigh of resignation and fixed his gaze through the transparent portals of the educational institution, where his father would soon arrive in his unmistakable Duesenberg, gleaming in a brilliant dark green. There was no other vehicle in the city that could compare to it. Fin's father operated an antique establishment on Main Street, named Retro Redo; He relished nothing more than taking dilapidated objects and restoring them to a pristine state. To maintain the car's functioning, he had to tinker with it almost every weekend, and was constantly imploring Fin to clean it and apply some peculiar vintage automobile wax to prevent it from rusting. The Duesenberg functioned flawlessly... unlike Fin. He lowered his gaze to his sneakers as he rhythmically tapped his feet against the floor. When he wore jeans, one could not discern any ailment with his leg, but as soon as he stood and began to walk, it was apparent. He had undergone numerous surgeries and various forms of physical therapy since infancy, yet nothing had truly alleviated his condition. He still walked with a limping gait, akin to attempting to maintain balance on a vessel that was constantly rocking from side to side.

As a youthful individual, he would oftentimes indulge in fanciful reveries wherein he assumed the guise of a piratical marauder, or even a valiant sailor with a prosthetic limb, succumbing to the tumultuous depths amidst a prolonged engagement of cannon fire. He would embroil himself in the personas of pirates and ninjas, cowboys and extraterrestrial explorers. However, he never entertained the notion of incorporating elements of magic into his imaginative escapades. The rumble of an approaching engine caught his attention, causing him to rise from his seat, only to be met with disappointment upon realizing it was not his father's vehicle, but rather an unremarkable red Toyota. Shortly thereafter, Sophia Williams, a peer from his academic cohort, briskly walked past him, accompanied by a teacher. "I wish you the best of luck at your ballet audition," the instructor, Ms. Patel, exclaimed before departing to her classroom.

With an expression of gratitude, Sophia acknowledged the remark, and cast a discerning gaze upon Fin, as if to appraise him. It was an unusual behavior for Sophia, as she had never before exhibited such scrutiny towards Fin.

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    The indomitable Master Eldritch strode forth with ire, leading the cohort down the corridor with purpose, away from the examination chamber. The pace of the procession was rapid, rendering it impossible for Finnick to keep pace. His injured limb throbbed with pain, and the scent of burning tires emanating from him was overpowering. He hobbled in their wake, ruminating if there was ever a failure of similar magnitude in the annals of Memora. He dared to dream that they may grant him a premature discharge, both for his own well-being and that of his peers."Are you faring well?" Lance queried, slowing his stride to fall in step with Finnick. His countenance was affable and benevolent, as if their fellow group members' avoidance of Finnick was a trifle."I'm perfectly fine," Finnick replied through gritted teeth."I am at a loss to explain your feat," Lance marvelled. "The expression on Master Eldritch's visage was akin to..." He attempted to imitate the visage, furrowing his brow, dilat