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Fantasy Mountain of Roses: A Futuristic Fantasy Act 1 (On Hiatus)

"Hah, I wish. My mother freaks out at the sight of a small burnpile, and my father can't stand the smell of sulphur. I'm the first in the trade! That is, if you don't account my uncle. We uh, don't talk about him too much." Ross spoke quietly the second he mentioned his uncle, and couldn't help but wince. He remembered the very last time they spoke. It went something like: 'Hey Ross, watch this' quickly followed by 'don't tell your mother, okay?', which hit a crescendo with an ill-fated 'whoops', a bright flash, and finally a bang. Ross can still remember being forced arse-backwards by the blast, and hearing sound of barking all around him as soon as his ears stopped ringing. The distinct smell of burning fur permeating the clearing. He could even almost feel the seven-year-old scar on the back of his ankle. Almost, but not quite. He's not quite that melodramatic.


"Let's just say that he was a little more unstable than we expected." Ross spoke a little uneasily, trying not to frown as he spoke. No need to ruin the mood with a few bitter memories. He continued to speak, though choosing his words carefully to try and not turn this into a sad-sack of a conversation.


"He also probably needed a thesaurus, seeing that not one soul shared his definition of 'surprise'. To him, a 'surprise' was something that was designed to get a laugh at the expense of others, be it a nephew, or the local forest rangers." Ross chuckled slightly at the mention of the forest rangers. He felt slightly guilty for hiding so much from Reiner. It was never his intention of becoming naught more but a tease!


Ross finally stopped speaking, and smiled as he eyed Reiner, raising and lowering his eyebrows in anticipation. When the latter just stared and nodded, Ross figured it couldn't hurt to say one more thing.


"But to answer your question, maybe! No, I'm serious here! Like, it's no secret that my uncle's a crazy, so I don't know whether or not to count him as family or not. I mean, would you?"


@GasMaskie
 
creighton r. & elizabeth r.




Creighton

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Okay. He's gotten thus far without being beaten up or picked on. So far so good, right? Creighton only found it too early to tell. Okay... Just calm down. If you don't seem too much of a frightened sod, maybe he wouldn't kick you around for yucks. Even as he spoke to himself in his thoughts, his voice quivered as he did in the most literal sense. He needed to appear less of whatever he is now, and more like any other person. A self esteem, that would be the first step. He is far too familiar with the kind of person that would become violently irritated at the sight of the extremely pitiful--case and point, he has annoyed these types before in violent confrontations. It was a hunch of his that they replaced sympathy with annoyance, or that his meek and small disposition made him so punch-able.


But, for the sake of appearance, Creighton needed to compose himself. He sought comfort in stroking the back of Snowball. In fact it was good a bet to guess that he found it more relaxing than the poor pregnant cat, who flashed the boy a glare of annoyance. Creighton got the message rather quickly upon seeing the warning look in her bared-teeth scowl. Being more mindful of his feline companion, he should have known better than to have stroked her one too many times. Cats are such mysterious creatures--and not always in the majestically mysterious manner, more like illogically fickle. Apologetically, the boy lifted a sweaty, cat-scented palm from the creature's back and allowed it to scurry to its make-shift scratching board, or whatever was left of it.
Guess I can't rely on you forever. He laid eyes on the animal, and then took them off in lieu of grazing the tall boy with his eyes, as he turned his head, appearing that he intended to look into the sunset, while in actuality he just wanted to capture the expression on the boy's face. It was hard to tell, given that he now looked into the horizon. He sighed, I suppose I could say the same about Liz... Always there to make sure I'm okay, happy... He was always openly grateful for any form of assistance... but secretly, he hated it, being helpless and allowing others to do the things he so badly wished he could do himself. A pained scowl directed at himself tugged at the edges of his lips as he blankly stared into the green of the university foliage.


"I Still won't tell anyone, kid. You gotta hide her better thought--teenagers are tough." Creighton heard Josiah reinforce his previous statement, or at least attempt to, snapping the former out of a thoughtful daze that he almost mumbled an apology. Still with that scorn, still with that smirk. Will he ever get used to it? He wondered. All he wanted to do was to wipe that knowing grin off his face. He hated it. Every one who wore that smile always reminded him of his bullies. Then, something that Josiah did made a muscle of Creighton twitch. He wasn't sure what in particular as it happened in a flash, but all he knew was that a spark of anger lit up inside of him. What could have Josiah have done to make such a meek boy feel so sullen? A simple chuckle. He hated the sound of a chuckle for the same reason he did the smirk.


He tamed his fire with a simple exhale, quiet enough to go unnoticed by Josiah, relinquishing any grudge he had for the very innocent, yet provoking gestures. Now he could rationalize. He shouldn't be so irate, especially with someone he barely knows. But going back to what he said, was that a threat or what? The first half of his statement was fine and dandy, but the latter bit, about teenagers being rough, only served to make Creighton suspect him. Was he saying that he was rough? It was hard to find any good in people if you were like Creighton, always clouding his own judgement with pretenses of lies, betrayal, and the sort of things that make for good old-fashioned grade school drama. Perhaps, like with Celine, he could do the same with Josiah... he just appeared so intimidating, but spoke in a manner that would contradict his stature, experienced, earnest.
"I'll do my best... I want to find her a home, like I did with the other of my pets, It's just that she's been with me the longest and I don't want to see her go." Pathetic. As he said those words, he held in tears. For the longest time, he had adored the puff of white fur since she was a kitten, and only loved her even more as a soon-to-be mother. "I want to take care of her... as she did me, maybe not knowingly, but it seems only so fitting a repayment, after years upon years of cheering me up." He endearingly strayed his vision over to the cat for a while before looking at the fine line where the land and sky meet, where the big blue and ever rolling green stopped.


Creighton felt as if a great weight has been lifted off of him, allowing him to breathe... and so he did. The crisp, morning air delighted the boy as he took in the wholesome experience, filling his lungs and exhaling without even shuddering one bit.
Thank you. He would have wanted to say to Josiah... but maybe another day. Creighton sat, cross legged, spine supported by his arms as he leaned backwards. He listened to Josiah, and listened well. (As I was typing this, I realized that this was a redundancy... because I was looking at the wrong reply while responding. My bad. Anyway, take it as what it is)


Josiah answered him, and openly too.
Weyland... It only took a brief moment for Creighton tor realize that he knows nothing of said manor, if it is indeed a house at all. Perhaps not one in Damasceane, as he was familiar with the aristocracy, or rather former aristocracy, in Damasceane. They didn't hold as much power as they did before the establishment of the university of Damasceane many centuries ago. But they were not reluctant at all in relinquishing their power, as even the royal bloods realized that it would be destructive to the community to form small polities within the state. Only one government, one body of authority to rule. It is the most efficient, and effective way. Creighton, and most Damasceans would subscribe to that idea. Bah, even in my own mind, my thoughts are cluttered. Them not being royals would explain why he wasn't known, or rather his family. Cybernetics was an issue in Damasceane that is hotly talked about by the people. Some would argue that it is beneficial to the community, others would argue that it is detrimental, as it would only diminish humanity. But as far as Damasceane cybernetics law is concerned, body augmenting and the sort are still being barred from being practiced in clinics, in spite of the doctors receiving standard training in the trade. As for those who are already augmented, and happen to be accepted into the city, no law has been made to screen them. It was in this respect that Damasceane has not quite 'advanced' in like the rest of the world. As for the medical world, Damasceane had its own separate standards and methods. Controlled Mutation is a standard practice in Damasceane not widely accepted in the world, as the technology of other countries isn't as advanced as that of Damasceane that allows for the body to heal itself not through magic, but by medical advancements and a special kind of light that mutates cells into reproducing.


Creighton felt sorry for Josiah as he talked about his family further.
Try the grade school here. He was tempted to crack a joke, and allusion to his rough growing up in said school. In this isolated environment, the laws that applied to the city didn't to the school. The Damasceane youth would usually wait till college before shaping up, of course there are the exceptions. "Same here." He unwittingly said, and nodded, "Here, as long as you keep your grades up, it's hard to get kicked out for misconduct."


Creighton chuckled. Josiah had him pretty figured out.
"It isn't easy trusting people left and right if you were me. He answered, uncharacteristically confidently. "All boils down to what you're made of, yeah? The same water that softens the potato hardens the egg. If you're a potato like myself, you'd understand."


"First year, if you would believe it." He replied, standing up, "D-bags." He corrected. "It's hard to find them alone. You either pick on one and face his posse, or not at all. And the entire school is headed by a board of fourth to sixth years. Mostly fourth years as the older students are busy with their theses, and projects. Thanks for being honest with me." He might as well tell him his full name but it might be too early. He almost forgot to be not so trusting. Josiah Appeared good, but that's about as far as Creighton knows. To trust him he probably needs to see more of him.


Elizabeth


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"Whoa"


Liz heard the orange haired girl say, mouth wide agape. It almost tempted Lic to push Runa's jaw back in place before she did. She went on about the sports and clubs, and found the gatoman quieter than before. As a second year, she sort of expected him to pop in every now and then to add on top of what she said as she wasn't even trying to go into detail with the tour. She led them from the multi purpose court to a hallway that encircled the first floor, and reached an elevator. It was at this point that she heard Runa ask Kuro if he ever played sports.
"Sure he does." She answered, as a joke, "There's one where he chases a laser red dot around the room. Very good cardio if you ask me."





@CupAndCough @animegirl20 @One Mean Ghost
 
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Axel - Cafeteria


Axel smile at Zale and thinks ‘this Guy sure can eat a lot but then again he hasn’t eaten in a while so I’ll let it pass.’ He couldn’t help but cringe at the noises being made while he ate and in turn the brown-greyish colors he saw corresponding with the sounds. Looks like he was going to have to deal with it for now. He smiled at him and said “nice to meet you Zale and thanks for the invitation.” The guy was odd but he seemed nice enough. He then notices another guy sitting next to Zale introducing himself but from the looks of things Zale was going to be occupied with his food for a while. He figured he would take zale advise and make “friendly friend”, chuckling at the words he used.


He turned to the new guy and said “hello there, the names Axel Reed nice to meet you.” He begins eating his own food, while humming a very melodic tune. He first day of school was going better than expected, at least he didn’t have to deal with his parent constant control. That when he spoke again “Also I forgot to mention before but I’m a siren.” He didn’t want to be confused with a human considering he was proud of his race. He wants all to know who he was and want the race is capable of. He wondered what these two were capable of and how strong they actually are.


@Rantos @Pyosimros
 



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When they had entered the massive gymnasium, Kuro's ears had perked up. He was listening for something, so intently that he actually didn't hear Eruna's question. His eyes narrowed, and just as he was about to say something and his focus returned to where he was, he heard Elizabeth's comment. "Oh very funny.... I fall for that ONE TIME and I never hear the end of it..." He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest as his tail swished irritably behind him. "Anyway, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take an early leave of this tour.... I hear something that sounds like something the Disciplinary Committee should take care of..." Kuro remarked. "You'll have to save my formal initiation into the Committee for later. You can give me whatever uniforms or badges I'm supposed to have later.." He remarked as he walked off with his hands in his pockets.


He left the gym, making his way around campus and following the sound he was hearing. It was the telltale rhythmic sound of someone getting punched... Just outside the cafeteria, a helpless first year was getting the tar beaten out of him by a couple of older students. Kuro recognized them as some upperclassmen who made the mistake of targeting him the year before during the lawless first week. There were five upperclassmen, two holding the first year's arms back, the other three taking turns clobbering him out in the open for all to see. It was a fear tactic designed to get all first years to bow to the upperclassmen. Ideally, this scare tactic would have first years basically working as servants for the upperclassmen for a year or two out of fear of a similar beating. Odds are, this first year made the mistake of refusing to carry books or something for the upperclassmen. Kuro calmly walked towards the group, his hands still in his pockets as his eyes glowed and he vanished from sight entirely. One of the thugs had noticed him, and the color immediately drained from his face. "It's the Black Cat!" He screamed, trying to take off running but Kuro seemed to reappear out of nowhere, his knee driving into the boy's stomach before he grabbed the boy's throat, sweeping the legs out from under the boy as he slammed him on his back.


One of the thugs glared at him. "you've got an awful lot of nerve to attack upperclassmen here where anyone can see it.. You realize you won't get away with this right?" he hissed. True enough, when an underclassmen attacked an upperclassmen, there were always repercussions, as the upperclassmen liked to keep an air of superiority about them, and if that superiority was challenged, more would join in besides the usual thugs...


"Actually, I'll get away with this just fine. It's my job. As of this morning, I was recruited into the Disciplinary Committee." Kuro smirked, cracking his knuckles as the boys froze with fear. If he was the Disciplinary Committee, no other upperclassmen would try and help them.. "And school rules strictly prohibit fighting outside of sparring classes and training drills... Got anything to say before I do my job as appointed by the Student Council President?" Kuro asked smirking at the men as they took a step back, before scattering like cockroaches, some of them screaming. Kuro's eyes glowed bright as Giant Terracotta soldiers rose up in front of the four fleeing fighters. They stopped in their tracks, backing up as the giant stone soldiers advanced upon them. One attempted to hit it with a fire conjuration spell, but the spell just bounced off harmlessly, at least that's how it appeared.


In truth, the spell had gone right through the illusion, but Kuro had adeptly hidden the real fireball and showed an illusion bouncing off his illusion.


He walked up to them casually, his tail flicking behind him. They were too focused on the statues to see him. He grabbed two, slamming their heads together before doing the same with the other two, leaving them in an unconscious heap. He smirked. "I swear, they make it too easy..." Kuro remarked as the Terracotta soldiers descended back into the ground and the glow left his eyes. He was usually quite careful to wrap up his illusions as if they were other kinds of spells. He didn't want people to be readily aware of when he was using an illusion and when he was using an actual magic that could cause harm, after all.


It seemed his first job as Disciplinary Committee had gone swimmingly.


He still wanted to know if there was a uniform or badge or something he was supposed to get...
 
Michael Snyder


Tags: @Rantos and @loyalwolf


Location: Cafeteria




Turns out, the person was named Zale. Fact Michael didn't think would be more obvious, was that this guy liked food. As in, it was an addiction. It could be a little bit of an overstatement, but watching Zale consume his food at this very moment, the back of Michael's mind wanted to believe it was true. Negligence of the cutlery given to him enforced this belief, and well, the obvious display he was showing everyone. It's been...a few seconds of staring at the boy maybe? Enough for Lydia to lightly slap Michael's arm to get his attention however. "Michael! It's rude to stare!" She hissed softly at a rapid rate to Michael, if he wasn't with her all of his life, Michael wouldn't have the slightest clue as to what she said. Though he did, and he was quite proud. Worthy of putting it in a resume, he presumed.


"I know! It's just-!" He jerked his hands to gesture to Zale. Noticing that he was making a scene, Michael immediately slammed his hands on his food, a failed attempt to act normal. At this moment, all Michael wished was that Zale either didn't notice what was happening, or was a really calm and forgetful person. He needed to talk. Bring up conversation to completely shove away what just happened, so he looked over at the other person. He was pretty sure he was named Reed, which meant he had no need to introduce himself to Michael. But he did anyways. "Hi Reed! My name's Michael and this, is my sister Lydi-aaaa get your hand off me!" Michael protested tried to recoil his arm away, but his sibling's grip was too tight. It felt like he caught his arm on a door that was getting slammed.


"Lydia. It's very nice to meet you two. Now, my wonderful brother and I must talk privately," She finished, giving a sweet smile, leaving the last sentence with hidden venom within it. As she dragged Michael with her to the other side of the cafeteria, Michael tried to make the situation somewhat more normal to onlookers, often waving his hand and greeting them.


Within a few seconds, they were out of earshot, and Lydia stopped her death grip. Once out, Michael took two short steps back. It wasn't ideal to dodge something if she was right in his face. Now that that was done, it was time for words in retaliation. "That there, was unneeded. I wasn't like I accidentally threw a child out a two story window!" He protested, leaving a second to breathe, before continuing. "Now, my breakfast is getting cold. And I don't know about you, but I don't enjoy cold, toasted bread that was accidentally put into a cup of Sprite," He finished, taking a step back to the table, before he was stopped once again. Groaning for a second, he responded with, "What do we need to talk about now?"


"Look, I know this is a new place and we're meeting new people. And frankly, I may have over-exaggerated a little bit due to tiredness. And also, yah true, first person we met likes food. So what? That doesn't mean you have to stare at him for a minute," Michael opened his mouth to protest. It definitely wasn't a minute. It was ten seconds at most. However, Lydia read his mind and followed it up with, "And yes, I counted."


Michael closed his mouth, and they walked back, and sat down in unison. He was quite surprised as to how they pulled that off, but it was an idiotic thing to acknowledge out loud at this moment. He simply attempted to pluck out his piece of bread out of the glass. His expression was one of slight disgust, mixed seriousness. Lydia on the other hand, tried to revive the conversation that died when she left. Out of the corner of Michael's eye, he saw her look over at Reed. "Oh, a siren? That's interesting," She said, probably out of any comments to say about now.


Of course you remembered or bothered to listen to what he said.
 
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"There's one where he chases a laser red dot around the room. Very good cardio if you ask me."


Eruna laughed at Liz's comment. Though Eruna herself in cat form didn't mind chasing the laser that much. She looked over at Kuro seeing his reaction.


"Oh very funny.... I fall for that ONE TIME and I never hear the end of it..."



"Haha well hey you are a cat." She said grinning teasing him. She then put her hands on the back of her head. She felt like relaxing outside. Though she couldn't do it they way she wanted to with these to here. She wanted to shapeshift into her cat form and lay in the grass.


"Anyway, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take an early leave of this tour.... I hear something that sounds like something the Disciplinary Committee should take care of..."


"Awe ok see you around." She said smiling. She then looked over at Liz seeing if she was going to leave to. If she does I can lay out then maybe walk around in my cat form.


@One Mean Ghost


@LeonardPCollins



 

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Axel Reed-cafeteria




He watched as the two siblings went to have their own personal conversation. In his eyes they both seemed very odd. He figured that he shouldn’t say that out loud because it would be rude so he sighed and continued eating. It very strange that the first three people he meets, don’t seem to be the most normal of people, but it could always be worries. He nod his head towards both Lydia and Michael and respond back to them “nice to formally meet both of you.” And then smirk “that doesn’t look very appetizing man. Then again soaked bread might be your thing so to each there own.” He figured poking fun at Michael breakfast, wasn’t the nice thing he didn’t care at the moment.


He then looks over to Lydia and said “nothing really interesting about us sirens. It’s not like we have a history of great things. Most of the time we just sing and lure people to their death so not really that interesting.” He was smirk happily as he talks and then processed to whilst, a very pleasant and happy tune. He hopes they didn’t take his comments to seriously, he was trying to be fun. He knows his humor can be considered very dry and dark but they will come to understand it.


@Pyosimros @Rantos
 
creighton r. & elizabeth r.




Elizabeth

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Liz watched the numbers of the level indicator above the lift archway tick downwards as the lift approached their floor, the ground floor. Rather than a bell ringing, a synthetic, broad bleep that was easy on the ears sounded to signal the arrival of the tubular glass lift. As the doors flung open, the gatoman gave his retort to her tease. Consequently, she rolled her eyes, arms crossed. "Are you sure about it being only once?" She shifted her weight and raised a brow to continue the onslaught, but alas, he had to go. "Alright. I'll see to that you're added to the database the moment I get on the administrator network. So far you're the only one... and don't go running around arresting people, not until you get your licence!" She made sure she was audible enough for the boy to hear her, though she wasn't hopeful that he would listen anyway. Well, there goes public order. She shook her head. Now I can only hope that he doesn't stir something out of nothing. It was in these situations that she felt the need to rewind time, and not have said anything. She imagined the gatoman getting into brawls for nothing. In fact, she was probably right that he would get into one the moment he exited the building. Well, there's no point in thinking what could or could not have been. She only hoped that the gatoman, regarding his history of fights, showed restraint in a professional, orderly manner. Dropping the look of worry for one that of eagerness, she turned to the orange haired girl. "So, shall we continue?"


She showed the girl all the floors the gymnasium had to offer, and even some of the club rooms that were still under preparation. Above the high ceiling multi purpose arena first floor was the training and exercise center of the building. It was unmanned, of course, and the lights were off when they arrived, giving the room an eerie appearance to it with large, inhuman shapes of large machines masquerading as monsters and shades. However, with a press of a button on the panel of squares and rectangles, the LED lights flooded the room in bright, afternoon sky light. To their left, from exiting the elevator was a reception area complete with a coffee table and couch for waiting students. Directly in front of them was a hallway that ran through the entire width of the Gymnasium, whose walls segregated rooms with different types of equipment for different purposes such as a room dedicated to weights, and one dedicated to aerobics. They only went as far as peeking into these rooms that were otherwise inaccessible if not for Liz's security card. The walk to the other side of the gymnasium was short, if you were distracted like Liz and Runa with all the machines to process. Even if it was her fourth year, never has the beauty and availability of facilities failed to amaze her. On the other side of the Gymnasium, they were met with another elevator. She called for the lift and it arrived only within seconds. Of course that would change when students come piling in.
"You know what?" A thought just occurred to her. "Why don't we just take the stairs? It's the gymnasium, might as well get something out of it while touring, right?" Liz led the way to the stairs and started to ascend with Runa in tow. The third level, which is actually the sixth with the first floor arena reaching as much as four floors, contained a number of club rooms. She wouldn't want to spoil too much, so she didn't use her access card to peek into the rooms like a child into her present during the Winter Solstice Celebration. She just mentioned the names of clubs like the Wrestling Club, Fencing Club, Danaa Martial Arts Club, Spellsword Club, and the list went on.


no slide
Tags
@animegirl20 @One Mean Ghost
 
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((Announcing it here so everyone will see))





19 hours from the time this post is made, I will prohibit any further posting in order to set up the start of school, the first chapter in our story. I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck with this rp thus far and I hope this will only grow bigger!


 
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Sandra Cross




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The gentle and calm expression did not leave her face as she watched the strange creature, one she found quite interesting despite the negative connotation that phrase gave him without her meaning to place such a term on him. What else could she call him? Bird man sounded a bit derogatory and she still did not know what species this person was. So, that improper term would have to stay for now. At least until she learned what type of race he was.


Had it not been offensive, Sandra might have simply asked, 'What are you?' Though, that probably would have sounded very offensive and because she did not know how he might react, she decided not to ask such a thing. Sometimes it was difficult to balance mannerisms and curiosity or fascination. Sandra was lucky to have been born with some sort of filter.


When the names left her lips, she cocked her head to the side, trying to recall if she had heard the name before. With her memory, it was hard to lose anything. A quick sweep of her mind for some sort of recollection left her a bit surprised and all the more fascinated. She placed her hand over her mouth in a simple gesture which almost seemed, to her at least, that it was a way of keeping all the babble and curious questions at bay. It also hid a part of the friendly smile she gave him.


The way he presented himself was also very charming. It was something that reminded her of older stories, heroic tales and epic poems from a different time. It was the way a prince or lord presented them self. A hero. Something somebody would say in a sword battle or in the throne room of the king. It wasn't something she expected to hear someone say at this school.


"Won't you sit here and keep me company for lunch? Unless of course you may have somewhere else to be," Sandra added politely, seemingly not bothered by whatever his answer may be, but secretly hoping he would stay. A large part of it was a ploy to get to know more about this 'Buras'. But, truthfully, she would also very much enjoy the company. Even Sandra craved socialization sometimes.


@Beowulf
 
"It would be my… It would… I… Yes." he said, fumbling for the correct words to say. Why was this language so hard to speak? He could keep up with all but the fastest speakers, but when it comes to saying more then two words he could barely form sentences. Perhaps it was the beak and how his mouth was different in general. Oh well, he could get through the year with few words, right?


Moving closer to the wall, Buras drops to the ground, crossing his legs and resting the tray in his lap. And with that, he went about reducing the pile of food. E had to go about it logically, one did not grab something from the bottom unless they wanted something on top falling on them. Top down, that's how it's supposed to be done for many things. And food was no different.


In between bites of food, something dawned on him. It was simple etiquitte to ask for their name in return for giving his own. So, around a mouth full of food, he asks, "Name?"


((@Stamper))
 
Wyvern sat on his bed with his back against a wall. Upon first look, anybody would have thought that the teen was sleeping in. However, on closer inspection, a cord could be seen connecting the back of the teen's head to a smart-phone sized device.


Computer couldn't sleep, machines couldn't dream. Despite this, the device Wyvern held allowed him to do just that by playing different relaxing simulations. Just now he was a turtle swimming in a large pond, then a driver speeding down an endless curving road, then he was himself sitting on a bubble floating among countless other bubbles. Now, Wyvern was flying over and endless forest as a bird of prey, looking for his next meal.


Wyvern's eyes snapped open as he checked his internal clock. It was around 8am. The teen unplugged himself and got off of his bed. Although almost none of his body was organic, it didn't mean that he couldn't get hungry. Packing up his supplies and equipments, Wyvern left his dorm and headed for the cafeteria.
 
Josiah Weyland : The Strife Brought-Passion-Filled Bastard Summoner






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[The Voice of The Raging Heart | Location: Roof] : Josiah listened to the boy further. Sympathizing with the tears welling in the boy's eyes. He hope the soon-to-be-mother cat would be safe and from that safety made the boy feel at peace. Josiah could not bare with with himself if the cat had met a terrible fate.


Josiah tried to sever his connection somewhat with such emotions, guilty was not an emotion best left to carry the weight of world. Josiah had much to talk about on where he hailed from, but doing so would perhaps paint him as a revolutionist. Or better yet as revolutionary. A child torn between the worlds of the victors and losers of war. The oppressors and the oppressed. The weak and the barbaric. Choosing to hold the past within his heart, using it as motivation. Thinking society needed to change. What havoc would someone like Josiah bring to the D.I.U. The shame it would bring upon the Weylands, and forsaking the begrudging gratefulness he gave his absentee father.



Josiah would not feel sorry, but he knew his choice would seem disgusting later on. However he knew if he was to walk a path of a revolutionary and stalwart barrier to protect the forgotten man and the reveal of the scourge of history....People would hold him accountable for terrible things. Things that he may or may not do. Josiah suddenly felt embarrassed, but he did not show it openly as he felt Creighton's would come into focus...



Josiah kept smiling along, confidant and strong--or so he thought. Perhaps he should have listened. As he returned for the daydreaming world of thought and angsty splendor, Creighton continued to talk about himself, Josiah was content with the revelation of him even talking. It was something of a prideful moment for the teen as he felt he was beginning to crack open the boy a bit.



"It's hard to find them alone. You either pick on one and face his posse, or not at all. And the entire school is headed by a board of fourth to sixth years. Mostly fourth years as the older students are busy with their theses, and projects. Thanks for being honest with me." (Creighton). Josiah smirked as he realized the boy may be more familiar with these thugs than originally thought. He was a bit thankful that he was confiding in him, but now a bit furious that bullying was an issue. Something had to be done about it. Josiah had to stop it. No more forgotten people. No more second class.



"Hey, why don't you just point me in the direction of the bastards and I'll set 'em straight for you huh, how does that sound Creighton?" Josiah rolled back his sleeve to show his bicep, Josiah was trained and honed. A man with strength, maybe he could take them out for Creighton. For the entire school




quotes
@LeonardPCollins
 



Disregard the previous announcement, as I suppose it would take some time for me to type up the prompt for the first chapter. Instead, everyone is free to roleplay as they wish until I post the prompt.


 
"Mmm, it doesn't seem like he was that bad of a person. I mean, you still liked him right? I'd take someone like him over my immediate family." The Wyrmblut shuddered, not wishing to dredge up any unsavory memories of his own. The young man leaned back in the seat, placing both hands up against the back of his head.


"I hope our schedules align Ross. I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other a lot over these next few years and I look forward to a continued friendship with you." Reiner spoke out once more, although speaking freely like this was something he was unaccustomed to. Still, if his imported comics taught him anything, it was to be true to one's feelings instead of assuming that the other party could read you like a book. Misunderstandings led to drama which boosted sales and caused a series to run for 10+ volumes and over 200 chapters.


"Oh right, did you have any plans to join a club?" Reiner's own choice was clear. There was bound to be something related to aviation, though in the event there wasn't he could always fallback and join a group that pertained to his interests. Smirking slightly, he imagined the possibility of some cliche fanclub being formed to worship a popular student of the university. That only happens in stories Reiner. There's no way something like that would happen in real life the Wyrmblut mused.


@BauxiteMechanism
 
creighton r. & elizabeth r.




Creighton

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For just one short moment the boy glanced quickly but not at all noticeably at his partner, whatever Josiah could be called at this point, before returning to the apparently captivating horizon that was only a topological phenomenon before a veil of silence befell the two on the boy's dorm roof deck. Perhaps it wouldn't be as distracting if some more was said between the two. As to what more to share was up to mostly Josiah, as Creighton would only match up to his responses. Returning to the look on his face, which was now retained in Creighton's memory, he wondered if it was one of sympathy or pity. it was hard to tell the difference of one from the other. Receiving more of the latter conditioned Creighton to such an extent. if it werwnt so pathetic, he would have laughed at himself. But perhaps, for this stranger who showed him such gentle attention in spite of his appearance that would betray his actions, he was willing to wager his trust for the assurance that he wouldn't turn his back on him like so many before, willing to believe that appearances aren't everything.


But would it even matter after all? It was not the first he has confided much trust into a stranger since being dropped into this school, and not the first to befriend him. So little effort was put into meeting up and maintaining communication with the people he knows, with the obvious exception of family. This time he would blame himself for the distance between him and associates, as he was horrible with names, and unless one has made a strong impression on him, it was likely that he would remember. However, Josiah seemed to have etched himself into his mind, and his name was not at all common. Maybe it wouldn't be the case that he would forget him completely when school starts.



Although open, their conversation seemed to be limited, in the sense that Jodiah was holding in something from him. Creighton should know, he was too. It was in the fidgety and general unease he showed when he mentioned his family. Perhaps it was just genuine discomfort towards his past. It wasn't worth it, holding expectations so high as that. His smug grin, he had yet to get used to, however.



Creighton shook his head when he heard Josiah's suggestion to go out and beat them up. He didn't like the idea of sending someone after another, much more being defended for something he can stand up against... or at leaat he thought he could. He still had dignity for a coward, and prefered to keep whatever was left of it intact for there was nothing much left after many evaded confrontations.
"Just let the school council deal with it."


Tags
@CupAndCough @animegirl20 @One Mean Ghost
 
Zale - Cafeteria


As Zale seemingly stuffed his face endlessly with heavenly food he watched the scene unfold. As silent as his messy slurping would allow, Zale watched with wide eyes. Zale did not find the boy's staring strange, in fact, Zale gazed at the boy with the same intensity while still chewing. "What a pretty face." Zale thought to himself as the two continued to stare at each other. There was a slight amount his dissatisfaction with the fact that Zale had to stop looking at the boy's face. But the girl sitting next to him seemed to think that the act of staring too long was rude. It reminded Zale of something Shara would say. He committed it to memory, staring for too long was rude.


He watched as Axel, Michel and the girl, Lydia, made friendly friend talk just like Zale had asked. He loved it when people made friendly friends with others. Hearing a little bit about Axel's heritage and there past didn't make Zale worry too much. Axel seemed like a nice guy, in Zale's eyes at least. When he started whistling though Zale found his chance to make a joke. Increase the friendliness!


"I hope that's not what you are trying to do right now." Zale said with an impish grin.


Finally finishing his seemingly bottomless plate of food, Zale let out a huge sigh, patting his belly as he did so. A drunk grin spread across his face as he was finally ready to join in on the conversation. "Siren eh? I think that alone is pretty interesting. I'm sure yalls history goes a little deeper then just killing pees with song magic. And if it doesn't, then you could make history by punching something! Really, really, really hard!" Zale clenched his hand into a fist and began waving it in the air like a mad man to further the point that history can be made by just punching something really, really, really hard. "So Reed. Know any good ditties? You get vocals I will handle drums." Suddenly Zale grabbed the two nearest spoons, not from his plate, and began playing a simple beat on the table. "Michel, Lydia, jump in with the spirit moves ya!"


@Pyosimros @loyalwolf
 
"I didn't really think that far ahead, why? Did you have a particular one in mind? No wait, don't tell me, I know exactly where you're going!"


Ross donned a suspiciously pleasant smirk, and paused for that special effect.


"You're one of those anime club fanatics!"


Ross could see it now. His mind conjured up terrible thoughts of Reiner's secret stash under his bed. We're not talking just two or three holodisks crammed into the underside of the bed frame, this was an extreme case. Garish posters plastering the wall, with impossibly proportioned girls with eyes the size of dinner plates crammed on each page. Ross could almost make out a hidden Space Vixens poster at the very back of the room, right next to the purloined hotplate and Reiner's collection of mint condition figurines. In fact, if it wasn't in the wash, Reiner wouldn't be wearing those fatigues, he would be dressed full on in cosplay, sailor fuku and all.


Ross was half grinning, half cringing as his mind wasn't sure whether it should melt itself after picturing Reiner in skimpy suit, or it should just pretend that it never conjured that image up in the first place.


"So am I right or am I right?" Ross said, as his snapped his fingers and emphatically pointed at an unimpressed Reiner. No doubt a gesture he learned from seedy used car salesmen.


"C'mon, you can tell me! You don't even have to worry! Your secret's safe with me, they'll never have to even know about your viewing 'habits'."


Smooth.


@GasMaskie
 
Axel reed - Cafeteria




Axel laughed at Zale's comment about him trying to lure them, with his humming. He wondered if he could ever use humming as a form of attack. He would have to look into that, but he got distracted by the fact that this guy is like a bottomless pit. He couldn't believe how much food this guy just ate and seemed to have no issues with it. He tried not to stare at the food that just disappeared, but he found it hard not to. That’s when Zale said he should change his people’s history by punching something really hard. That earned another laugh from Axel, this guy is hilarious he thought.


He smiled at Zale and said “you're most likely right dude. Siren’s aren’t exactly known for their physical strength and abilities. The only problem is that I’m not exactly the strongest person in the world, or for that matter in this room. I’m sure if there was a fist fight I would the first one on the floor with a bloody nose.” He laughed at his own comment. The truth was that his talents didn’t include fist fighting, but he hopes that maybe that will change. These guys seem like they could help him, if he ever did get into a fist fight.


That's when Zale’s began to play a simple beat with some spoons. Axel didn’t really know any ditties, but he could always improvise. He watches the sounds of the beat carefully, trying to catch the rhythm that was being made. He saw the colors of the beat being as a simple blue, he was able to easily fallow and memories the rhythm of the beat now. He didn’t really have a song in mind so he simply began by singing simple notes. That's when word began to form in his head and he laughed as he begins to sing the song in a very happy, bright tone. He sang “One fine day, in the middle of the night, two dead men, got up to fight, back to back, they faced each other, Draw their swords, and shot each other.” It wasn’t much of a song, but rather a nursery rhythm but he felt like with his voice he could easily make it a fun song to sing along to.


He knew he got a lot of attention from this, but he was trained to be a musician, so he had to be used to getting the attention of the other. He just hopes that he doesn’t scare away the siblings with his display of foolishness. It's not like it was that embarrassing, he was just having fun after all.


@Pyosimros @Rantos (I had to look up what ditties were lol)
 
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Josiah Weyland : The Strife Brought-Passion-Filled Bastard Summoner






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[The Voice of The Raging Heart | Location: Roof] : Josiah raised his eyebrow at the words of the council being able to take care of it. A little of his fragment of the vast amount of rage that Josiah could produce welled forth. He gritted his teeth and bore a tiny hint of his fangs, a small furrow of his brow. Josiah hated that side of society, leaving it up to a council or group of peoples that somehow attained power beyond that of a normal person. As if their word mattered more than the common man. He looked to Creighton for a moment, a flash of his rage showed--but then quickly subsided as he realized his rage was apparent to the boy. He rescinded his rage and stared out to the horizon.


"That's the wrong way of thinking Creighton. You see leaving it up to the council is akin to leaving it to fate! We could have the choice to do something. Something that would be better for everyone. It's the way of thought of leaving it to the powers at be that continued tragedies happen. A faceless and insensitive government or an apathetic lord of region. It must be the people that decides." He stared off into the distance, his burning resolve and passion soon becoming worn on his arm like a badge of valor....There was an abrupt pause to the boy's speech. A sigh. A bellow of air, he collected his thoughts on the matter. "So yer a victim too? So what has the council done about it so far? Let it happen? Who would want that to continue to happen? To allow another to be tortured like that?" He turned to Creighton for a moment, his resolve and passion building in his words and eyes. Like azure flames setting ablaze.


"I don't want to live in a world like that. Where people settle for the powers at be to take charge. To allow themselves to get hurt because they waited too long. Creighton how many times will you wait? Wait for a systematic answer to a living and breathing problem, something that doesn't give you the safety you wanted? How bout magnified to everyone having the sample problem, what would you choose? Would you watch someone be hurt, and then be ignored with a synthetic answer?" Josiah's emotions and beliefs spiraled towards Creighton as he spoke, facing him fully. He clutched the boy's shoulder, leading him to the horizon. "I don't. I don't want someone to come here because they have no choice. I want them to come here and enjoy it because they chose so--not because they left it to the powers that be."


Soon a voice chimed in his head. The passionate one ignored the silent commentary within the annals of his thoughts and secretive holdings. Josiah smiled to the boy, lifting his firmly placed hand, coarse and rough, off of the Creighton's shoulder. The taller male turned away from Creighton, facing the lip of the roof.



"So, What are their names Creighton?" The boy folded his arms on the rail, sinking his shaven head onto it, resting with a pout. His voice had calmed, but still commanded something worth commanding. Truth and valor. Josiah wished for the boy to answer his call to arms. And more than that he wished for the boy to feel rage. To feel passion. To feel deserving of a life, rather than sadness.




quotes
@LeonardPCollins
 
creighton r. & elizabeth r.



Creighton


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Oh, so now he starts showing his true colors? How easy it is to make a wolf bear its fangs when one knows how to provoke it. And it appeared that Creighton's innocent reply to leave the enforcing to the ones authorized to do so had the same effect on Josiah. Consequently to Josiah's sudden flare of rage, Creighton's mind automatically marked him as a threat and the rest what Creighton did was up to reflex. First, his arms cradled the white cat, then he took off to a distance from the teen, and neared the roof access doorway with his back towards it, eyes full of fear upon the possible threat. In situations like these, he wasn't sure how his partner would react. Will his anger subside? Or will he give in and take it out on Creighton and Snowball? All amount of trust he had placed in Josiah seemed to have wavered. If it were himself or Snowball, Creighton would prefer the latter to be safe, which is why he stood between Josiah and the cat, whom he had let down next to the cardboard pieces. Anger was an ugly emotion. Not only did it show the undesirable features of one's appearance, but also one's temperament. Thankfully Josiah seemed to have simmered down as he peered into the horizon. The trust that had wavered slowly came back, that is, until he heard his critique on authority.


The words that he said made Creighton only trust him less, however good his intentions were. Perhaps, maybe even a fatal wound to his trust should he act upon his impulses. These words only proved to Creighton that Josiah was likely to cause trouble, and that he was right in not completely trusting the teen.
"In what manner is my thinking wrong?" Creighton asked, in a manner not unlike one who is seriously offended. Call him a doormat, but Creighton still held pride in what he thought. "Leaving it to fate is to let things happen rampant, without control. How is that the same in trusting a council who are sure to do their best? Have you been in this school long enough to judge it? Well, stranger?"


"I have." Creighton paused, to allow the teen to react. However he may react, he went on, holding his ground as a proud student of this school. "I know the people in office, especially the president. She loves this school, and wants the best for it, but if no one volunteers to take part in disciplining bullies, of course it's going to be hectic. So whose fault is it then? No matter how good a council is, without the manpower projects will only remain projects. It isn't their fault, then, for it is only the idleness of good men that allow evil to flourish. But that doesn't mean you should go around like a vigilante, actually, exactly like a vigilante. If people do that, what keeps them from doing otherwise? They're no better than delinquents. If there is to be order, trust should be formed between the disciplinary committee and the students because people like you will only begin to flourish. So before you go around throwing punches like some caped crusader with a hero-complex, get the badge to back up your actions. Chaos begets chaos. Order never begets chaos. Showing people that they can do what they want without a badge will only undo any work the committee has made. If people are shown that the committee is control of the situation, even the delinquents will back down. As to the good they've done for me, and those who can't stand up for themselves, they've done a good job quelling most of the delinquents."


But he made it a point to add on top of his defense of his school council.
"You are naiive to think that bullies are the only people that are bothersome." As for people not having a choice in coming to the DIU, Creighton expected him to know better. Of course it's a choice to come here or not. "I'm only telling you the names when you join the committee. Even if I don't tell you, if you join them, you'd know. It is not yours to hunt them down. Just maintain the peace, lest you be hunted yourself. This isn't my battle nor is it yours, it's the committee's. I hope you understand that"







no slide
quotes
@CupandCough

 
Lydia Snyder


Tags: @Rantos and @loyalwolf


Location: Cafeteria




Upon coming back, Lydia inspected Zale's food. Empty. She was half expecting that, but she stopped thinking about the food and focused on Axel's response. "Nothing really interesting about us sirens. It’s not like we have a history of great things. Most of the time we just sing and lure people to their death so not really that interesting," He had said, as if murder wasn't that interesting. It took a few seconds for Lydia to formulate a response, and she found two ways to handle this situation. Make light of it like Axel's doing at this moment, or go the sensitive route. The latter, would probably lead to negative results.


"Well it's-"


"Nothing really interesting? Everyone enjoys a good murder story, wether it's real or fake. Though depending on the circumstance, I usually prefer the latter," Michael smiled as he looked up at the people engaged in the conversation. Not really what Lydia was planning to say, but at least now Lydia could use Michael as a scapegoat if they get judged. After the talk of sirens was over, Zale attempted to get the table engaged with some music and other such things.


"Michel, Lydia, jump in with the spirit moves ya!"


There was a problem Lydia faced with this. What were spirit moves? She felt like an idiot for not knowing, though even if she knew what they were, Lydia would most likely refuse. A beat started to get set, it felt like eyes were laid upon them, something Lydia wasn't very familiar with. Michael stood up, probably joining in. However, he had his food tray in his hands. He began to walk over to his sibling, and softly spoke over her shoulder. "I'm getting some edible food. Call me over if anything interesting happens."


Michael left, humming a short tune, which left Lydia alone for the time being. She wasn't sure if this was an excuse to leave and explore the perimeters, though Lydia couldn't care less. "And it'll be more pleasant with your absence," She murmured. The beat kept going, like she was in the middle of a performance and Axel, began to sing. It was quite pleasant, which is mostly because of his siren heritage.


Looking down at her food, she noticed it was getting cold. Lydia had no interest in doing whatever Zale told her to do, for she would rather eat instead. Slowly putting a piece of an egg in her mouth, it felt like the song wasn't going to stop. Though it didn't mean that was a bad thing.
 
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The cafeteria was still bustling when Wyvern arrived. Being a cyborg didn't mean that he coulc forgo eating entirely so he quickly filled a plate with some food and looked for a table to eat at. He didn't want to sit with talkative strangers lest he be dragged into needless awkward conversations.


He eventually found a table with only a lone girl. She was speaking to a boy who snapped pictures of her while asking quetions but other than that, there was nobody else seated at the table. He walked over to an empty chair at the table. He reasoned that the girl would be too busy answering questions to notice his presence but decided to ask anyway.


"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"


@nebulachan
 
Celine sighed as yet another Damascean began hounding her for attention. He was kinda cute, but kept snapping photos and asking questions for some sort of interview. Celine had a hunch as to the source of some of the uproar of her arrival, and it was this guy. She waved away all of the man's questions with her hands and a gentle smile, a little distressed by the sudden attention that was starting to draw a scene. It was then that she heard another voice, and caught a figure out of the corner of her eye.


"Is this seat taken?"





Celine seized her chance.
"It was a pleasure, sir, but I was waiting for my friend here!" The cameraman looked puzzled briefly, and finally shrugged, heading off after taking one final photo. Celine thought it might have been out of spite. Nonetheless, she was saved from the paparazzi for now. Thank Zustel. She turned to the boy and began to size him up, giving him the rundown she had given Creighton and the weird military man before. She sighed when the cameraman was finally out of earshot, and relaxed into a slump. "Thanks for saving me there, pal. I really owe you one."
 
Beowulf said:
"It would be my… It would… I… Yes." he said, fumbling for the correct words to say. Why was this language so hard to speak? He could keep up with all but the fastest speakers, but when it comes to saying more then two words he could barely form sentences. Perhaps it was the beak and how his mouth was different in general. Oh well, he could get through the year with few words, right?
Moving closer to the wall, Buras drops to the ground, crossing his legs and resting the tray in his lap. And with that, he went about reducing the pile of food. E had to go about it logically, one did not grab something from the bottom unless they wanted something on top falling on them. Top down, that's how it's supposed to be done for many things. And food was no different.


In between bites of food, something dawned on him. It was simple etiquitte to ask for their name in return for giving his own. So, around a mouth full of food, he asks, "Name?"


((@Stamper))
((@Stamper))
 

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