[font=times new roman]W.O.O.H.P: The Sequel

Two months have passed since the first year of training was completed at W.O.O.H.P Spy Training School and our accomplished students are set to return once again.

This year they will be joined by many new recruits: some whose talents have just been discovered, some who have been transferred from foreign academies, and some who have dark pasts and have yet to reveal why they have been asked to join W.O.O.H.P.

The second year of training will hold much the same as the first, as the growing students will have to face the trials and tribulations of still being young, merged with the pressure of having to be mature and save the world (as cliché as the saying sounds).

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To The New Students
Dear ...
I am proud to tell you that you are invited to join W.O.O.H.P Spy Training School for it's second year of training pupils.

You will be entering your first year, a year below the six graduates who successfully completed a year of training before the summer that has passed.

Whatever the reason for your acceptance may be, (be it talent or movement) do not question it. W.O.O.H.P is a fine institution for young students and for spies, and wishes you only the best in lifestyle and education.

We wish for you to be at Harbour 6, Hevenfeild Road at Midnight, September 3rd, where a boat will dock to take you to W.O.O.H.P. We regret to tell you that if you do not board that boat, you will not be taken to W.O.O.H.P.

More information will be given to you by older students once you have boarded the boat.

Jerry.

To Returning Students

Dear ...
I am very proud to welcome you back to another year at W.O.O.H.P. I know I can spare the formalities with you and can expect to see you at the same meeting place where you began your journey as the new recruits.

Look forward to another great year.

Your friend,
Jerry.
My Post

Name: Alex Richards
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Appearance: I'll keep this as a simple list: Thin, about 5"7, Long dark brown hair, Hazel eyes, pale skin.
Personality: Rather lively and energetic. Loves to read, so is often quiet. Never shy around her friends and always pays attention to the mission she's working on. Refuses to drink but finds any of her friend's drunken action amusing. (Marry me!) There's nothing she values more than her friends; she would die for any of them.
History: Lived in London with her father her whole life, before moving to the outskirts of New York for a year or so to study journalism. There she received her W.O.O.H.P email and changed her life plans by going to the training school. She never lost her accent.
Relations: Best friend: Rox.
Other: Has a fear of spiders.

Alex

Midnight was leering closer as I drilled my nails along the arm rest of the wooden bench, a dull echo making its way partly across the harbour before fading out. There were already a few others here. The first to show up were always one of two things: eager to leave (whether it be for past or future) or living not so far away that it truly took them time to arrive here. Sometimes they were both.

There must have been a few spies here also. Jerry would have sent a few of the fully graduated spies (already reaching a prime age) on a mediocre guard of sorts, any other sort of guard would have arrived long before I did. Like some of the newcomers, the distance made it hard for me to come here quickly, but W.O.O.H.P certainly wasn’t hesitant to help me out. After all, all last year’s graduates would have to be here before the boat left. This year it was they who would be introducing the ‘young ones’ – as Jerry had named them with a chuckle, though the fact was far from true – to the whole new world that W.O.O.H.P would present to them…and to warn them of the dangers.

My watch already read 11:50 and by now a steady flow of newcomers was entering the harbour. If I looked close enough, I could see confused and curious faces. I smiled to myself, reminded of being sat on the harbour, shivering slightly from the cold, back when I was new. Gosh, that felt like such a long while ago. A year at W.O.O.H.P was like a miniature lifetime.

I stood and made a quick walk around the harbour, watching people interact and swap stories that weren’t so personal that they gave away why they had agreed to be here, but were personal enough to hint at a growing bond. Most of the students seemed to be here now, and I didn’t feel the need to look for Sam and Eevee: I knew they’d be here on time.

I wandered back over to the wooden bench and waited for the boat to dock, closing my eyes and smiling to myself.