Realistic or Modern Sors University

[FloatingAroundSpace]

Sors University

Per Angusta Ad Augusta


Through Difficulties to Honors

Fall has come and Sors University is once again ready to welcome back its old students and its new. However, this time, the newest class of the best of the best is the most diverse group Sors University has ever accepted, with students from all over the United States and abroad with varying social classes, sexualities, genders, and races.


Turning over a new leaf just as the trees loose theirs, the University is looking forward to a year of improvement and to wipe away the stain that has tarnished its name.


But of course, nothing is ever that simple.


Old resentments and hurtful thoughts still linger in the minds of many and some upper classmen and professors still cling to the image of what Sors used to be. They watch the newcomers with growing resentment and bitterness, believing the University's declaration to be more inclusive pointless.


With the whole world watching, Sors is poised to either skim through this year and prove the harsh criticism wrong, or to crash and burn and go down in history as a failure, with some of the worst reasons why.
​

 

[FloatingAroundSpace]

Mira Primordial

Location: Sors University Auditorium | Mood: Excited | Interacting with: No one
​

The wind was blowing the leaves that were falling off the trees, scattering colors of organ, yellow, and red across the pavement as the newest class of students filed into the large brick auditorium. Among them, Mira Primordial gazed upwards at the colors as they danced into people's hair and scarves, pulling a leaf that had tucked itself into her own jacket and smiling at it before letting it drift off again. It smelled like change in the air, like something new. As she glanced around her, Mira saw faces of all shapes and sizes and colors. They were all gazing ahead of themselves, drinking in the fall sight, preparing themselves for the year to come. There was no telling how the upperclassmen would react and Mira herself wasn't eager to find out. Even though she had been the one to reassure her parents that she was going to be fine, that there was no need for them to worry (or hack into the cameras, as her brother had so kindly offered to do), she couldn't help but allow a single coil of doubt enter her mind.


The rumors about Sors had swirled for years, rumors of darkness that no one wanted to shine a light on until it was too late. She had heard about the university cherry picking out of its own pool of alumni's children, sweeping aside those that might be better qualified. She had heard about them tossing out those that voluntary put themselves down as non-heterosexual or cis and she had heard about the admissions counselors tossing out files that held students of color. Of course, the university would always deny and of course a group would counter that, pointing at statistics that the university would then try to sweep away with a flick of the wrist.


Mira wondered what kind of people ran the school, that they would allow such a tradition to go on (if it was how things were done) and then to change so suddenly, when their reputation was on the line. She knew that not everyone could be swayed so easily, that some people clung to their beliefs and would drown with them on the wrong side of history. As she entered the auditorium, past the gilded wooden doors, she wondered what really happened. She doubted that everyone in charge had had a miraculous change of heart and she doubted that they had bothered asking the alumni or upperclassmen what they thought. The curt nod she had gotten from the senior that was supposed to be showing her to her dorm had told her that.


Mira heard a gasp to her left and frowned, turning to the individual. Their face was craned up towards the ceiling and Mira followed their gaze, her own mouth opening in shock.


There were paintings of angels flying across clouds, ribbons trailing behind them. There were images of animals like tigers and bears and wolves prowling the earth, their bodies captured in mid-movement. She could see fluid clouds drifting across the still sky and a breeze ruffling through the branches of trees and bushes and grass.


Not watching where she was going and still enraptured by the picture, she accidentally bumped into someone.


"I'm sorry," she said hurriedly, taking an involuntary step back.

 

[Marianne]

Lavande de la Lune Patel-Mena

Location: Sors University Auditorium | Mood: Nervous | Interacting with: Mira Primordial @FloatingAroundSpace
​

Post One

Despite the bibliographical history that has categorized this University, better yet known as Sors University, Lavande (legitimately known as Lilac, although her name was French for 'Lavender') found that the atmosphere has complimented the change that was to come with her and many others arrival. It was fall, the end of August, the beginning of September and a stepping stone that will later lead to horrific, or simplistic, trials for the students to alter themselves. At least, all of these ornate thoughts, bouncing like ecstatic atoms in her mind, were orchestrating rather colorfully no thanks to her grandmother.


As burgundy, cherry, and apricot leaves fluttered to the dying fingers of the grass beneath them, Lilac found herself absently looking heavenward as her feet took a mind of their own. Carelessly wondering who her roommate may, or may not be, what lay in store for her, and if she will enjoy herself. Upon entering the large, dirt brick building t'whom which belonged to Sors University Auditorium, Lilac was wondering if this was the best course of action. Coming here to this school, struggling with an acceptance letter due to the stubborn behavior buried within the Administration Office walls. For, there was no actual reason regarding the change of heart she has heard in the news, and she was not about to dig her nose where it didn't belong. Not only that, but her financial stability had belonged to her grandmother, and her grandmother was not alright with sending her granddaughter to a school that would later turn out to be a waste of money. Stealing a subtle glance around the interior of the building, Lilac decided that hopefully all of this would be worth the controversy.


Tucking a brown strand of hair behind her rounded ears, a loose earbud hung in her right ear as rhythmic blues shaped the moment into a pleasant one, admirable gazes and whispered to and fro. Students gathering, pointing, a small handful pointing at things they hadn't expected to see.


Like tourists in New York, Lilac thought. Her soft pink petals curling between her teeth as she subconsciously took a step forward, Maybe not.


Three minutes passed and Lilac found herself listening to a commercial, one that would last for just about half a minute as her hands buried themselves deep into the folds of her casually pocketed blue jeans. Her leather black ankle boots clapping against the floorboard heavily, as she kept her gaze low, head high, whilst looking around. She tried her best to look interested, feeling very self conscious that she could be watched as of yet. She wasn't sure if the students were exactly like the conflicting traditionalists that ran this University. It was when she tucked her left bud in her ear, taking out her iPhone to skip a classical Nat King Cole, and choose a befitting La Vie en Rose by Louis Armstrong, had Lilac heard the nearing footfalls of someone heading her way. Unfortunately, she couldn't make out her face because it was too late, and already Lilac bumped into someone unexpectedly and rather unfortunately. Her phone nearly flying out of her hands as her buds detached themselves and flew elsewhere.


"I'm sorry," she heard, but Lilac was too busy searching for her headphone's to put together an accurate response. "It's okay," she mumbled nervously. Her mousy behavior was unlike her, but who could blame her? She felt like a puppy in a new found environment, vulnerable to many things.
​

 

[Tiny Turtle]

Fish Johnson

​

Location: Sors University Auditorium | Mood: Excited | Interacting With: Mira Primordial & Lavande de la Lune |

Fish walks into the school with confidence. They know that the school has a reputation for denying people like him, but that didn't stop her from applying and then going to the university when they accepted them. So here Fish was, eying the upperclassmen with something in between judgement and curiosity. For Fish, this was an opportunity. They have plans. Big plans. To change the school, make it more self accepting, because Fish knows that the closet is a deep and dark place, but not one with a couple people here and there. For Fish, all they want is to turn the light in the closet on and let all the quietly queer students who maybe don't even know that what they're feeling is normal to leave the closet and live a life of happiness. So here they are, at a university that has students who probably want to kill her.


As Fish walks, he takes in the crisp smell of the autumn air, and the wonderful feeling of the pavement beneath their black converse shoes. Fish enjoys the way the wind blows through their hair, and how comfortable their bulky black sweater, two sizes too big feels. Their jeans are ripped in all the right places, making it so that there's the perfect amount of airflow for Fish.


Fish can't help but think about the place they lived before. The liberal school, classmates. Fish's Ex. The thought of Tamara sends a bitter taste in her mouth. She misses her. The walks in the park, the late night talks. The sex. Oh the sex. Now that was one perk Fish'll really miss. But Fish knows that thinking about it will only make it worse, so they shake off anymore thoughts about Tamara. Maybe later they'll give her a call. But first, a call to Fish's parents are in order. So Fish fumbles around their far too big pockets until they find their phone, then they plug their earbuds in and give their parents a call.


One Ring.


Two Rings.


Three Rings.


"Fishie! How are you? Sweetheart your child called." their mother says, her voice full of its usual excitement.


"Hey sweetheart! How are you?" Their father calls, his voice farther in the distance.


"I'm good, I'm good. Just wanted to call to say I'm here and I'm safe. I've gotta go now, but I'll call you two later! I love you both!" Fish replies.


"We love you too hon! Bye bye!" her mother says, and Fish can hear their father giving them a kiss through the phone.


Then, Fish hears the beeping of the phone hanging up. Fish turns off their phone and removes their earbuds from their ears and shoves those back into their pocket along with their phone.


As they walk, Fish notices two people bumping into each other. One of the people's headphones fly off, and Fish grabs them off the floor.


"Hey." they say, walking towards the pair. "You dropped these."

 

[Nyxione]

Francisco Castañeda

★⌝ location Auditorium ... ... ★⌝ interacting with None

Crunch. This was the sound that reach into his ears as he took another step forward. The leaves were falling all over the place and all Francisco could do was step on them, not intentionally of course. It would've been childish for him to seek out the sound of leaves crunching beneath his feet, not to mention insane. The sound was actually driving him mad. The Spanish lad found the crunching noise to be irritating, but perhaps it was just his awful mood affecting his point of view on things today. You see, the winds today kept on messing up his hair anything that messed up his hair always put him in an unpleasant mood. It was one of the rare days when he didn't wear any styling wax. It wasn't that Francisco forgot, it was just that he wanted a change--and also his tub was now empty. He could've gone to a nearby convenience store to get some more but he was a picky person when it came to the styling wax and only used a brand that wasn't stocked in just any regular convenience store.


Francisco pulled the scarf wound around is neck a little higher such that it started to cover his mouth. Just as he did, another gust of wind passed by and more leaves fell to the ground. He let out a muffled groan. He was more than certain that his hair was now even more of a mess than it already was. Francisco needed to get himself indoors pronto otherwise his mood was only going to get worse. "What a way to start the first day" he grumbled to no one in particular as he quickened his pace and walked past some of his fellow freshmen who seemed to be in awe at the building ahead. Francisco didn't understand what was so fascinating about it. Have they never seen archirecture like this? He shook his head as he stepped into the auditorium.


Once he was inside, Francisco pulled his scarf down and away from his mouth. First order of business: Hair. The Spanish boy took his phone out and checked how he looked through the front camera. Francisco was pleasantly surprised when he saw that his hair wasn't as bad as he thought it was. Looks like he was worried over nothing. Still however, he ruffled and combed his free hand through his hair a bit just to get it more to his liking. When he was finished, Francisco tucked the phone back in his pocket and looked around. A lot of people seemed to be looking up for some reason. Curious, Francisco went ahead and did the same. All he saw however, was a mural covering the entire ceiling for the place. Francisco raised an eyebrow. Sure the fresco was beautiful, but there was just nothing about it that he found striking and noteworthy.


He started to walk around, looking for something that would interest him.

 

[Felix]

Trystan Lewis

Location|Auditorium Mood|Alert Interacting with|Fransisco Castaneda

A black car drove down the avenue towards the Auditorium. The tires made crunching sounds as they rolled through the autumn leaves. It pulled over next to one of the trees. 'We have arrived, sir.' The driver said. 'I am sorry,' A voice that was definitely not from around these parts replied. 'If I remember correctly I asked you to drive me from the airport to the Auditorium of Sors University. Not somewhere in between.' It was silent for a moment. The cabdriver was thinking on what to say. The Foreigner was right. The man did ask to be brought all the way. The man would probably leave quite the tip. However, Sors University was no place for cabdrivers. That place was only for the elite of the elite. The cabdriver didn't want trouble. Still if he got paid for it ... 'Another 50 bucks and I'll take you to the front door personally,' he said. Another silence. The cab driver feared that he had gone too far. 'You Americans are quite insolent people. Fine, if money is all it takes.' The cabdriver relaxed. He did it, he got his payment, but now for the dangerous part. He started the car again and hoped for the best.


After 500m the car stopped again. The driver got out and opened the side door. A young man stepped outside. The man looked really out of place. The contrast of the man's skin and the warm orange, red and yellow made the skin look sickly pale. His movements were gracious, but stiff, unlike the wind that ran freely through all the leaves. The only thing that matched the season were his eyes which looked stormy and were rapidly taking in the scenery. Those who didn't look at the nice weather and beautiful university buildings had their eyes fixed on this strange young man. The man handed the money to the cabdriver. 'This is far enough thank you.' He said. Now that he saw all the judgmental glances of the university people he could understand why the cabdriver did not want to drop him off at the entrance. The people were not diverse in the least. White people, mostly men, in expensive coats. They were already trying to size him up. Trying to find out whether he was one of them or not. The cabdriver handed over the foreigners suitcase, mumbled a goodbye and drove off. The man put down his suitcase, wheels clicked underneath. He started walking towards the entrance, as gracious and awe-inspiring as he could, making sure everyone could read the name on the side of the luggage: Trystan Lewis.


Trystan walked inside, immediately analyzing his surroundings. The room was crowded. The new students were easy to pick out, because they were all looking up. Trystan followed their gaze. There were nice paintings on the ceiling of animals and flowers. However, if you looked better you could see a few flaws, typical American Craftmenship. The people were much more interesting anyways. In here the people were slightly more diverse. A few individuals stood out among the crowd of rich white youngsters. They were the new arrivals, the scum of the earth, at least according to the Sors University standards. He could see an African girl who had bumped into a girl dressed in not so formal clothing. Not far from them stood a punk girl. These were the reason Trystan had come to Sors University. The proud white ambitious philosophy didn't really interest him, but the sudden change of management did. It was a mystery, something Trystan had to solve. Why would a university built on elite morals and discrimination, allow this group of students to join? Was it really to improve the reputation or was something darker at play? Whatever the case Trystan wanted to find the answer.


First things first, he had to find out where he could check in for his dorm. It was also a nice opportunity to meet some of his fellow students. A pretty boy with an ear piercing caught his eye. Trystan walked over and said: 'Good afternoon, my name is Trystan Lewis and I would like to go to the administration. Can you tell me where that is?'


@Nyxione

 

[FloatingAroundSpace]

Mira Primordial

Location: Sors University Auditorium | Mood: Excited | Interacting with: Lavande de la Lune Patel-Mena (@Marianne ) and Fish Johnson (@Tiny Turtle )
​

Mira glanced at the girl she had bumped into, noting to herself that the girl was slightly shorter than her, something that did not happen often and she was glad for. Even though she knew that height should not matter, she was always the shortest within the family and her brothers commonly called her their "little" sister instead of younger as a result. She had always disliked being called "little"; she wanted to be big, in the world and in the university. She wanted to make a stand and a splash and she couldn't do that if she was constantly thought of as little.


Mira turned her head as another person approached them, looking fairly feminine themselves. "Oh," she said, realizing that the force she had used to knock her over had caused the other girl's earphones to spiral out. She had never thought of herself as particularly strong but given the surprise, she didn't see it as too far out that someone she ran into might have lost something because of her.


"My name is Mira," she said immediately once the earphones were back with their owner, sticking her hand out to shake. "Mira Primordial. I'm sorry for running into you, I was just mesmerized by the paintings up ahead."

 

[Nyxione]

Francisco Castañeda

★⌝ location Auditorium ... ... ★⌝ interacting with Trystan Lewis (@Felix)

Unfortunately for him, Francisco found nothing around that caught his interest. Other students on the other hand, seemed to have taken to socializing with each other. He found it rather curious though how the group of teens gathered in the auditorium were... a diverse bunch to say the least. Sure he also added to the 'diverse' count, but that little fact just happened to slip him. Francisco didn't familiarize himself with the university's reputation. It was his parents who decided he would be attending Sors and Francisco wasn't one to question nor doubt his parents' decisions. There was a reason why they wanted him to go to Sors, whatever it was Francisco didn't bother to find out. He knew that his parents would never put him in an awful school. But perhaps maybe it'd do him good to read up a bit. Thankfully he had his phone with him. He could always use it to look up more information regarding the University, especially that of its reputation. Besides, nothing interesting was happening around him anyway so he might as well distract himself with some reading.


Francisco had just fished his phone from his pocket when someone walked over to him and spoke. "Good afternoon" He looked up from his phone and found himself looking into a pair of piercing blue eyes. That wasn't what caught his attention though, it was the fact that while both irises may be blue, one was evidently of a darker shade than the other. Francisco found them to be rather intriguing, heterochromia wasn't a common thing after all. He continued to look at his colour imbalanced eyes as the man continued to speak. "My name is Trystan Lewis and I would like to go to administration. Can you tell me where it is?" Francisco couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at the question. Did he look like some sort of map or something? It was tempting to say what he was thinking, but his mother taught him better than that. It would be rude for him to say something along those lines...even though the expression he currently wore probably spoke magnitudes of what he thought.


In any case, Francisco didn't know the answer and thus shook his head. "Sorry. I'm a new student as well so I don't really know the campus all that well yet." He ruefully said. It was true though, Francisco didn't know where administration was, even if he'd already been there prior. There was a reason why he--'!!!' An idea suddenly flashed in his head as he recalled the contents of his pockets. Francisco's free hand started to dig in his pocket. Seconds later it emerged with a piece folded paper. He unfolded it to reveal a campus map boasting the university's name on the very top. It was something which he got when upon enrolling. He figured it'd be handy to have a copy of it so as not to get lost. Sure the campus map could probably be looked up online--Francisco wasn't certain since he hasn't tried before--but still, he thought it'd be a good idea to have a hard copy with him; just in case.


"Here. I don't know where administration is but this map should be able to point you to where you need to go." He said as he held out the map in his hand.

 

[Felix]

Trystan Lewis

Location|Auditorium Mood|Alert Interacting with|Fransisco Castaneda (@Nyxione)

No shit Sherlock, Trystan thought when the boy mentioned to be a freshman. Your ear piercings gave you away. They were not exactly part of the schooluniform, so to speak. The boy clearly wasn't used to be spoken down to since he gave Trystan such a disdainful look. His clothing looked simply casual, yet stylish and made of high quality materials. The boy walked graciously and his hair and teeth were well taken care of. His soft hairless cheeks- Focus! Nobody was allowed to notice it. Especially not on his first day. Anyways... Apparently the new program did not only consist of queers and differently colored young adults, but also some people from high society like this boy and Trystan himself. Maybe some superiors had forced the management to enroll some of the standard elite. If only they knew...





The fact that the boy had thought of keeping onto the map made Trystan increase the expectations of this boy's intellect and personality. He certainly was not neglectful. As the boy held out the map, Trystan looked at it closely. 'Thank you very much,' he said. 'But I do not need it anymore. You can keep it for yourself.' The quick glance was enough for Trystan to memorize the map, one of the perks of having a photo-graphical memory. Bzzzt! Bzzzt! 'Please excuse me for a moment.' He picked his phone from his pocket. The screen read 'M. Lewis'. His old man didn't give him a moment of rest. He was not in the mood for a conversation with his father. Not yet. He swiped the neglect call button. 'Pardon me again. Where were we?' Trystan asked. 'Oh yes, thank you for showing me that map, mister ...? I cannot recall that you introduced yourself. Did you?'

 

[Marianne]

Lavande de la Lune Patel-Mena

Location: Sors University Auditorium | Mood: Nervous | Interacting with: Mira Primordial @FloatingAroundSpace and Fish Johnson @Tiny Turtle
​

Post One

She had figured that her ear buds were not in all the way, however, she hadn't thought it such a big deal. She never really enjoyed pushing them all the way anyways because she wanted to still hear others, just so she wasn't be rude. Anyhow, it was not as trivial once they were returned to her, and she was going to be okay. "Thank you," she replied to the peculiar person whom returned them to her. She wrapped the buds around her neck, tying them in as loose bow about her collar. "My name is Mira," she heard and that was when she took a fair glance heavenward at the girl who appeared to be taller than her. It had felt like they were at the same height, although Lilac new she was shorter. "Mira Primordial. I'm sorry for running into you, I was just mesmerized at the painting up ahead." Knowingly, Lilac nodded before her hand instinctively held onto Mira's for a gentle hand shake; "What a pretty name," she thought aloud.


Straightening her shoulders, Lilac's lips parted, "It's quite alright. I am a tad bit dramatic, and I can understand the paintings predicament. Everybody is captured in their beauty at the moment." When Lilac removed her hand, she was kind of shocked. Mira's hand was surprisingly soft, albeit softer than hers that she wounded up rubbing at the base of her own palm subconsciously before her hands were tucked in to the back of her pants pockets. "Well," Lilac cleared her throat a tad bit dramatically as she identified herself. "My name is Lavande de la Lune Patel-Mena. You can just call me Lilac though, it's preferred unless we become friends," she paused and gave a teasing sigh, "then you're open to call me other things." A natural smile played about her lips as she addressed Mira whilst she blew gently at her hair in order to rid herself of the few strands of hair that was caught in her vision.
​

 

[Nyxione]

Francisco Castañeda

★⌝ location Auditorium ... ... ★⌝ interacting with Trystan Lewis (@Felix)

His brows furrowed in confusion when the male didn't take the map and merely glanced at at. The word 'arrogant' popped into his mind as he fought back the urge to scoff right there and then. It was hard to believe that the boy could memorise the map with a simple glance as Trystan had seemed to have done, but Francisco chose not to question it. Quite frankly he didn't care whether or not the boy got lost. He was no one but a stranger to him. In fact, he wouldn't have helped him if he hadn't approached him first. Sure his mother raised him well and taught him to help those in need, but really, Francisco could easily turn blind eye to those who need help unless they asked him directly for it. He's well aware that some people simply don't wish to be helped and he'd hate to offend them by offering a hand. The boy was simply not the type to reach out to others. Past experiences have encased him inside a protective bubble he's built. It worked out in his favour anyway, he gets to keep his map. It was an assurance to him, an assurance that he wouldn't get lost. Francisco relaxed his brows quickly and nodded as he proceeded to refolding the map and tucking it back into his pocket. 'Don't blame me when you get lost.'


Seeing as their business was over, Francisco was just about to excuse himself when the boy named Trystan beat him to it, excusing himself to attend to his buzzing phone. Francisco could've left then and there, cut off the interaction before any more words could be exchanged, but he didn't. It would've been rude for him to do so. He may care less for strangers such as the man before, but he was in no ways a rude person. Azalea made certain of that and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his mother even if she wasn't around to see. So he stood there and waited patiently for Trystan to finish talking to whoever it was phoning him. Francisco didn't have to wait long though. It seemed that Trystan had chosen to ignore the call instead. While it confused Francisco, he once again didn't question it. It was none of his business after all. Curiosity wasn't about to make him step out of line. Instead of thinking about it, he focused on what the blue eyed boy was saying.


"Pardon me again. Where were we? Oh yes, thank you for showing me that map, mister ...? I cannot recall that you introduced yourself. Did you?" He asked. Francisco shook his head. "No, it's fine and you're welcome. Glad I could help." He paused for a moment, contemplating on whether or not to introduce himself. It only seemed right for him to do so, and would be rude for him not to. But he was hesitant. They say that building bridges was always a good thing, Francisco begs to differ. Experience has told him otherwise. He was now more cautious. But then again, introducing himself doesn't automatically line them up for friendship. Francisco mentally braced himself before extending his hand out for a handshake. If he was doing this, then he was doing it right. "Francisco. My name's Francisco Castañeda."