Randall: Into the Fold
Posted: Thu Sep 22, 2011 12:08 am
Note: Decided to radically change Randall's past; I've got a general idea in my head of all the events that turned him into who he is today. Wondering if I should add in the Romance element so I can make this a pseudo-submission for the Meta-contest, but then I might as well go with the Stray-and-normal-Human story of A Tapestry Unbound.
The interior of the limousine was plush, of the sort that was more for show than comfort, such was its design. The boy who was its sole passenger stared out the tinted windows at the featureless fields which sped by them, the incessant classical music which played from the speakers around him boring a hole in his mind.
Randall Kayne was sullen.
From what he'd read of Pebbleton in the months he'd had before today, it was a sleepy town born of the retirement dreams of a select number of high-rollers; including among them Messrs. Dalton, Aios and Fukami. Those days, though, were long gone, and while Pebbleton remained known only for its world-class school, to the best of his knowledge it remained in as shabby a state as could be expected of any other small town.
And yet he was going there to school. MVD Private High was a renowned institution, to be sure; while it was exclusive enough not to be listed in most public rankings, it had earned its reputation nonetheless as the premier establishment for the privileged. Yet from what little he'd read of Pebbleton, he instantly dismissed the town around the school as mere periphery. The sleepy seaside town seemed more the type for geriatrics seeking some fresh air than the cities he was used to.
Randall Kayne wouldn't have been the type to consider himself overqualified despite the Kayne family's knack for learning (in every sense of the word), but even with such diverse recommendations, he had to wonder at the provenance of his sources from the dull view which extended beyond the bulletproof glass of the vehicle.
As the limousine cleared the last of the sparse forest and exited the highway, the boy got his first look at the town that was to be his prison until he'd finished his education. The roads here seemed hardly ever used: not a good sign, he noted to himself. In vain he searched for the hallmarks of the city he was used to: the single lone spire of what he recognized as Materion Towers was perhaps the only bastion of commerce he recognized among its shorter, more stunted cousins. His mind abuzz with statistical details of the town's demographic, he found his convictions only strengthened at every turn.
This was going to be a dull few years.
The interior of the limousine was plush, of the sort that was more for show than comfort, such was its design. The boy who was its sole passenger stared out the tinted windows at the featureless fields which sped by them, the incessant classical music which played from the speakers around him boring a hole in his mind.
Randall Kayne was sullen.
From what he'd read of Pebbleton in the months he'd had before today, it was a sleepy town born of the retirement dreams of a select number of high-rollers; including among them Messrs. Dalton, Aios and Fukami. Those days, though, were long gone, and while Pebbleton remained known only for its world-class school, to the best of his knowledge it remained in as shabby a state as could be expected of any other small town.
And yet he was going there to school. MVD Private High was a renowned institution, to be sure; while it was exclusive enough not to be listed in most public rankings, it had earned its reputation nonetheless as the premier establishment for the privileged. Yet from what little he'd read of Pebbleton, he instantly dismissed the town around the school as mere periphery. The sleepy seaside town seemed more the type for geriatrics seeking some fresh air than the cities he was used to.
Randall Kayne wouldn't have been the type to consider himself overqualified despite the Kayne family's knack for learning (in every sense of the word), but even with such diverse recommendations, he had to wonder at the provenance of his sources from the dull view which extended beyond the bulletproof glass of the vehicle.
As the limousine cleared the last of the sparse forest and exited the highway, the boy got his first look at the town that was to be his prison until he'd finished his education. The roads here seemed hardly ever used: not a good sign, he noted to himself. In vain he searched for the hallmarks of the city he was used to: the single lone spire of what he recognized as Materion Towers was perhaps the only bastion of commerce he recognized among its shorter, more stunted cousins. His mind abuzz with statistical details of the town's demographic, he found his convictions only strengthened at every turn.
This was going to be a dull few years.