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Ma Fanfic (not Proofread Yet); the prologue
Topic Started: Apr 20 2009, 12:14 AM (481 Views)
steelerfan92
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Grade Schooler
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EDIT: should this be under the library island section??

One Thug, One Mage, and Thirty-one girls (or Backup Sensei): A Horrendous Negima! Fanfiction

Prologue/Disclaimer(s)
After thoroughly liking the entertaining value of Ken Akamatsu’s Negima!, I decided to put a spin on things and making a slightly (remember, slightly) different retelling of the story through the eyes of a completely made-up character. Even though this has mindless entertainment value, I figure, as the author, might echo some kind of theme (or something that doesn’t really make this thing a waste of your time.) As of right now in the process of typing this thing out, this fanfiction is currently entertainment for my brain. So anyway, reader, let’s begin the story! This story is set like how Negima! starts off. This time around someone else is aiding and teaching class 2/3-A, the class of the rowdy and unique thirty-one fifteen-year-old girls. Good luck, mystery professor.
Note: I’m experimenting with “the stream of consciousness” after reading The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger in an attempt to let the story flow itself. Both outside narration and train of thought continue the story. Like always, please enjoy.

Profiles
Name: DeAngelo Thanatos Az’rael Martin (supposedly)
Aliases: Grim Reaper, etceteras, and etceteras.
Age: Unknown
Eyes: Red (color changing)
Hair: Black
Height: 6’ 1.75”
Weight: 207.6 lbs.
Blood Type: Unknown, probably a mixed version of AB and O
Likes: Setsuna and Konoka (familial), Asuna (romantically and erotically, very erotically), long romantic walks down the beach, and reading his Bible
Dislikes: being misconstrued and swindled
Special Notes: Asuna’s designated protector, Setsuna’s father (DeAngelo hooked up with a hot crow demon…if that is possible)

Name: Theodore “LaRon” Martin (November 12, 1972- September 11, 2001)
Age: 28 (at death)
Eyes: Black and blue (heterochromious)
Hair: Black
Height: 5’ 9.5”
Weight: 189 lbs.
Blood Type: AB positive
Likes: books, guns, cars, football, first-person shooters
Dislikes: girls, raw onions
Special Notes: died in a drive-by shooting, former Crip member, converted Christian from agnostic beliefs, had deep fascination with the Apocalypse, looks like a 33-year-old
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Victor Delacroix
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Type-Mercury
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How is the ghost of a former Crip going to relate to Negima?

I'm also wondering why a man named DeAngelo made a Japanese baby.
And again, it's "heterochromic."
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steelerfan92
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Victor Delacroix,Apr 20 2009
12:23 AM
How is the ghost of a former Crip going to relate to Negima?

I'm also wondering why a man named DeAngelo made a Japanese baby.
And again, it's "heterochromic."

this doesn't really relate to anyone in Negima...yet, but it's the angel that relates to people in Negima in a way. sounds rash, but it worked at the time.


here's chapter 1 (there's a brief background...somewhere)

Chapter 1: I am Mr. DeAngelo Martin

The M&M alarm clock read 8 A.M., the new start time for Mahora Academy. DeAngelo, face down, still sleeping and snoring the minutes off until he heard the late large church bells resonate throughout campus about five minutes after (technically, they are like church bells, but not exactly.) His head popped out of the fluff of cotton, Dammit all. Overslept on the first of the job. God, please give Konoe-san a merciful heart. He bolted out of his bed quickly getting dressed in semi-formal clothing. He decided to use his nice jeans, a pair of 550 Levi jeans instead of Marc Eckos or Dickies. Dammit I’m late. He put on a green and yellow plaid flannel button-down shirt over his white T-shirt yawning and brushing his teeth at the same time. (He recently arrived in Tokyo about five hours ago.) Once he washed himself up, he looked in the mirror just to check if he was suitable-looking for the new job as teacher at an all-girls junior high school. Dammit I’m late. He reached to the bedside for his white gold Citizen Eco-drive watch and a green Detroit Tigers baseball cap, and his shoes a newly bought pair of Air Force Ones with a deep green Nike swoosh, sole, tongue, and back lip. Lucky for him, he did not fall right asleep once he landed in Japan. He somewhat unpacked to a certain degree. Dammit I’m late. There was a nicely stacked pile waiting for him on the coffee table was his laptop case and a role book of who’s who he will teach for who knows how long years in Mahora, and not to mention a magazine-sized guide to the Japanese language.
Out of all the classes he will teach, he figured Class 2-A will probably the most fun. Negi Springfield, the person that DeAngelo will help out for the first term. He was pretty lucky and unlucky at the same time as a novice teacher to be with Springfield. He provided him many materials to be geared for the class. The one that Mr. Martin found helpful was the class role with someone else’s notes; they were more likely Takamichi’s. Dammit I’m late. As he strolled quickly towards the lime green Hearse with a 350 V-8, he threw the classroom materials into the right passenger side and dove through to the left side to start the car. He also decided to bring his flat mint green 1970 Chevrolet Nova with a 396 V-8; we will see that later. His car growled off quickly with all eight cylinders running and his heart racing to the rhythmic sounds of the Chevy Ridin’ High Remix by Dre, Fat Joe, The Game, Rick Ross, and Pusha. He finally put his sunglasses on. There were the kind that old grandparents wore, but it was good for him because he wore glasses. They were dark enough to fool anyone to believe he was wearing just huge shades. Dammit I’m late. The fucking plane’s fault, if it wasn’t delayed I would’ve have some time.
For him, it was a quickly drive about ten minutes. He could’ve walked, but never really like walking entirely unless he had to. He pulled right through the gates and beeped his way through the front of where the Class 2-A would be. (2-A is his first classroom. In Japan, the teachers move around, not the students unlike in America.) Racing up the stairs to the teachers’ lounge to see if he had to do anything else, he met the dean (Konoe) of the school to his dismay, Damn, didn’t want to see him yet…it can’t be avoided. Oh, well.
“Well, it looks like you rushed your first day here…” the dean welcomed DeAngelo with a joke.
“Sorry, dean, but the plane came in late around quarter to midnight. I hardly had time to get ready for school. Couldn’t get hold of a good reservation for a plane ticket or a room.” Dammit I’m late.
“Don’t worry about housing. You can live on campus if you’d like.”
“As long as it is cheaper than the motel, I’ll be glad to take anything I can get.” DeAngelo was still frantic because he was late.
“Hey, glad you’re here,” it was Takamichi T. Takahata.
“Oh, hey! Long time, no see. Still smoking?” He’s here, too. I won’t be that lonesome here.
“On and off, mostly off.”
“I know what you mean. It’s tough to smoke the blunt again after being sober. Assuming Negi is already in the classroom. Anyway, I was checking if I had any papers to collect around my desk. It doesn’t look like it.”
“Nope, Negi sent you all the stuff in advance, you should thank him.”
“Already did,” he smiled leaving the room. DeAngelo gave him an antique 1906 magic revolver gilded in Italian white gold chambered in a .44 Magnum. It was a piece of work that he fashioned during the Great War (World War I). Not that mages were embroiled in worldly events, but do have a hand among all the hands. It more often aiding the sick and wounded, not for offensive means. If they did, they were usually like any other footsoldier with a bolt-action rifle. In DeAngelo’s case, he would not because of his heaven-ordained title of Death Angel. (He tends to be in a ghostly form most of the time, so no one can tell.)
“Hey, I’ll lead you down to the classroom. You probably had a hard time finding this place.”
“You’re right. It took me about ten minutes just to find the office.”
Jogging down to Class 2-A, he noticed that there was commotion already in the classroom. Most of the noise was the adoration of Negi’s small size and, to DeAngelo’s dismay, cute demeanor. Everyone was asking about his background. He suspected a prank; he carefully let the door slide its way open letting inertia do the job. DeAngelo first noticed the group of girls to the side (Nodoka, Haruna, and Yue), “Hey, um, Ne…I mean Professor Springfield. You need some help, and sorry for being late. I just got off the plane last midnight-ish,” he slowly popped his head in. The girls were silent, for once, and giving a seemingly blank stare, “Dammit, perhaps bad timing?” DeAngelo gave a weak smile, “Um, okay…this is kind of weird…um, hello?”
“Well, it looks like the teacher has been acquainted to the students,” Takamichi chuckled.
“Professor! I knew you would’ve come!” (Asuna…who do you think it might be?)
“Wait, we have a male student in the class!” one of the girls cried out.
DeAngelo grimaced at the shock of things and quickly turned to the mass of overly excited girls. Yikes. He calls this an “oh, shit” moment. Am I this attention getting? This is going to be one hell of a ride!
“No, wait! He’s an aide!” Takamichi coolly spoke before anyone got a hold of DeAngelo. “Please, sir, come in right in.” (Negi)
“Negi, don’t address me that way. Just go by my name.” A yank on his T-shirt collar made him lose balance and stumbled awkwardly to the front. Holy shit. At the same time, DeAngelo managed to pick the little 10-year-old up, “About to be gang raped or something. I can see why you need me around, kid,” he crossed his arms, “you need protection, son, from becoming a plaything.”
“Well, it looks like you two are fine from here. Class, these two will be teaching you since your original teacher is on maternity leave and will not be likely to teach anymore,” he directed his attention to the two, “Good luck,” the door slid closed.
“Excuse me, but are you going to teach us as well?” One of the twins asked.
“On and off. I’ll be doing the paper work side of things, but I am 100% capable of teaching. Me and this boy are here for teaching experience,” DeAngelo quickly sensed whispering. He assumed they were commenting on how hot the two boys were, “Oh, by the way, to get things started. I suggest all of you get in your proper seats, and we will gladly introduce ourselves.”
“I already did that,” Negi added.
“Fine, it’s my turn. You girls seem to be curious about just as much as I am curious about you,” he rashly head-counted wiggling his finger left and right, “Okay, thirty-one of you. Other than being Negi’s aide and compatriot. I am Mr. DeAngelo Martin of good ol’ United States of America. Los Angeles, California to be exact. I am fifteen years old and I do have a Bachelor’s Degree in Teaching, Marine Biology, and Religious Studies with a focus on Judeo-Christian theology from the University of Southern California. (Go Trojans!) I have played football for my alma mater (that does include high school). Hm, I think that’s all…”
A hand raised (Asuna Kagurazaka), “Wait, you’re a teacher!” DeAngelo noticed that she blushed a little at DeAngelo’s figure. His sharp eyes softened when he gazed on her. Wow, she still wears those little bells that Takamichi gave her. I guess she places him very dearly. Cute, but it’s a weird couple.
“Yup, more like an assistant though. The little one will most likely teach most of the curriculum.” Wow, she grew up…she somehow looks like Nekane. I’m wondering how she’s fairing out with just Anya.
Another hand (Konoka Konoe, related to the dean), “Mr. Martin, Are you going to be here for the whole year?” Hmm? The dean’s granddaughter, too? Fun stuff…sounds ditzy as hell.
“Until they say I can’t work here or at least I don’t feel like it anyone, I’m here for life.”
“Are you a gang member?” (The other twin)
He sighed, paused briefly, and scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, about that…I turned away from that for good. It’s tempting to go back though.”
“This person should make to the front cover…”
“What was that, um, Who’s seat number 2?…oh, yes, Kazumi! Kazumi?” Most angels have excellent hearing, DeAngelo especially.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Sure, sure. That’s they all say. Whatever happened to seat 1? Does anyone know about the person that sits next to you Kazumi-chan?”
“Don’t know. She’s always been in the role though. She’s probably really sick or something.” No, she’s a fucking ghost…I can see her quite clearly. I’m just playing along the game, Sayo. First seat since 1940…that’s a history. Poor girl lost in this world. Curious to know why God wants me to leave some wandering spirits here, don’t they all deserve to go somewhere? Right…I can see her clearly.
“Hm, I’ll look into it,” Not like he will though, “So, let’s get started with the lesson, then. Right, Negi?”
“Oh, yes, the lesson. Are you going to assist me?”
“Just tell me when. I’ll just kick it in the back,” hands in his pockets, DeAngelo sat next to seat thirty-one, Zazie Rainyday. DeAngelo thought that was an interesting name, but decided to keep quiet throughout the class. He opened up the role book again looking and writing notes through it. Sayo…Supposedly missing? Kazumi…probably works for the paper. Keep secrets away from her. I like the hairdo…Hmm, Asuna Kagurazaka. She looks familiar…I think we met at one point…but probably doesn’t know me too well. That was about nine years ago, maybe even longer. Man, she’s all grown up and lookin’ pretty well, too. Funny how she still wears those bells. Konoe, eh? How nice we’ve got ourselves family here. Wonder how’s the father doing in Kyoto…that’d be a nice place to have a vacation. He kept browsing down the list…Holy shit, not her. His finger stopped at Evangeline A.K. McDowell. Damn vampire. Can’t die can she? Gotta tell DeAngelo about it. Funny she not be here…poor girl has to be holed up in here. Till she graduates, too. At least, Nagi has some time prepare for it.
There are three DeAngelos and an Angela, and each of them signifies the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Strife (Conquest)…the girl, War, Famine (and disease), and Death (through any type of cause: age, sickness, other elements in the world)…yours truly. Death and War are actually brothers. The rest of the Horsemen are scattered. War is touring the Middle East, again. Strife is vacationing in Israel. Famine is touring Africa for shits and giggles. Well, Death is stuck here on the thirty-second seat.
For pure entertainment, he put a picture of himself and wrote the name in the rolebook. Seat ??? DeAngelo A.T. Martin, backup sensei/complete loafer. Very nice. Future plaything of the 31 girls above. DeAngelo chuckled. This girl, Nodoka Miyazaki, she looks kinda emo with that hair. He looked up. Small and cute, I suppose. Needs to take care of her hair?? Setsuna Sakurazaki. That’s a nice name; interesting hairdo. He completely froze over her name. Oh, that’s right I remember her from a long time ago. Eishun told me about it. God, that’s was about seven years ago or something like that. She was the cutest thing ever! He kept reading…Ayaka Yukihiro. A blonde Japanese girl, the hell is going on. Aiming to be a white girl? Class representative, perhaps total pushover and bitch. I don’t know. Got some nice looking ladies, indeed. This is going to be fun. Thirty-one girls and two guys. What’s going to happen? Just don’t let Negi turn into an ermine. Speaking of ermines, where’s Chamo-kun? That would suck totally. Glad, I have an upper hand in this magic business.
DeAngelo was no master mage, but was very excellent in dealing magic and mystical stuff. Yet, being an angel from God in spirit, he could do almost anything. The Four Horsemen were just as powerful as the archangels such as Gabriel and Michael, but they used their powers for the negative things in the world judging simply by name. DeAngelo had no certification or even stepped into any formal education in magic academy. They only way he was able to do magic was the informal training learned by several rabbis that also had this awesome “divine power” (all the more likely as retired angels). Instead of Western magic, he learned Middle Eastern magic. Holy Land magic is usually not verbally chanted (it can be, though), but conjured by tapping into God’s and one’s spirituality by earnest prayer, or “language of the mind”. If one is inclined to evil, it’ll be dark magic (and tap into the Devil). The same with good people. In his circumstances, he has the special capability to be good and use dark magic, which is probably why he gets mixed up with the Devil all the time. He does not have the full power only because he would run rampant, and the human population will sink like a rock. Even he is not in full strength; he is still rather effective since he can cast any spell he wants. Most of his “incantations” were in Hebrew or Aramaic. Some were in Greek, and very little was in Latin (even though he was pretty good in Latin, he never bothered to do it). The bell rang. What the hell…oh, class is over. That’s funny we burnt our time without my aid.
Negi being all tired after the first class of the first day of school. His body plopped on a chair. At Mahora, things were different, it was the students who did the moving. At least we don’t have to move all the time. “I figure you’re going to need a break. We’ll switch off alternating periods.” Negi nodded. Poor guy dealing with girls older than his age. That’s why I’m here…where’s Albert when you need him?
“At least they didn’t run over you.” DeAngelo turned on his iPod speakers to play some rap music off his system. Something new, shockingly new…I like that…It was playing Living in Pain, a posthumous song credited to Notorious B.I.G. Welcome to school, kids.
“Music?” Damn right it is.
“Yeah, just for shits, giggles, and the birds…good thing I came late, but I think we’re going to be the headlines at Mahora for a bit. I’m pretty sure that Mahora’s got some teachers from other countries I’m assuming, but people our age. That’s a head turner. I mean my appearance and all; I should try a more professional look, but I was in and all-,” the next period walked in, “Ok, class, welcome to English! We are your teachers, Mr. DeAngelo Martin and…”
“Negi Springfield…”
This would reoccur until lunch break. The two were teaching review lessons learned from past lessons in English. DeAngelo got equal attention as Negi did. Negi had this “cuteness” thing due to his prepubescent age, and DeAngelo had a very muscular body and acted very collected and casual. He kept his Tigers hat on the whole day and his Locs (a brand of sunglasses fashioned by gang members) on keeping his piercing icy blue contact lenses out of sight. Sometimes he swore that whenever he had his regular glasses on; people would freak out in pure fear. DeAngelo had piercing red eyes (no human has yet to know about it) that echoed an old violent background. The lunch bell rang to his delight.
At Mahora, everyone participated in some form of athletic activity even if it meant walking around the track for the whole hour. DeAngelo decided to take the liberty to work out during the hour. His workouts were based on his time during his high school and college football days: a quick 200-meter dash, thirty minutes of various agility drills on lateral and straight movement, and thirty minutes of weight-lifting. (Weekends were the time to rehabilitate his muscles usually a hodgepodge mix of martial arts in a pool.) He was quite noticeable (he wasn’t wearing anything except his shorts and an armband to hold his iPod during his dynamic warm-up); the girls gagged over DeAngelo’s nicely cut form with a six-pack and well-toned muscles. The guys gagged too, but it was the intense speed and the immense amount of weight being moved around by his powerful body. (Someone doing a 750-pound bench-press would definitely garb attention. DeAngelo’s maximum was infinite in his true form, but being somewhat watered-down he could only do so much because of his human form). He is a football machine. Of course, that left some amount of time for a hasty dash to the showering rooms and getting changed to his ordinary teacher garb. More often than not, he forgets a few things in the locker room, “Dammit, I forgot it again…Class, just stick around.”
After the two hundred plus names he had to memorize (most important was the homeroom he shared with Negi), he opened his twentieth bottle of mineral water and plopped tiredly on a desk in classroom 3-A. Thank God! I survived through this. Perhaps teaching will be fun…I’ll let this go accordingly one day at a time. Wait, where am I going to stay here? I’m going to need a room by Wednesday! “Hey, see you tomorrow morning,” DeAngelo bode farewell to an equally stressed out Negi. He, too, left with him, but turning to another direction. Where am I going to stay? Perhaps I can sleep on a couch in one of my student’s rooms…that’ll work out someway and somehow. But, goddamn! The uniforms look like crap.


If it hardly made any sense to you, that means you overlooked his thoughts. obviously, it didn't make the time to indicate his thoughts, so you'll have to be on your toes.

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