lumbago
Back in Business
Last edited:
-
This section is for roleplays only.
ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.
Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
Fantasy [HIATUS] STC: MAIN
PROLOGUE
lumbago
Back in Business
PROLOGUE
click the beads for supplementary visuals and audio.
When asked about their experiences at Paideia de Amaryllia, the alumni were unanimous in their praise. They called it superior, that its level of education was unseen in other academies on the desert surface. That being admitted into the academy was a guaranteed success in whatever skill you had been scouted for. That it was a paradise, divorced from the monochrome of the desert.
Many of the interviewed played with the idea of returning to their youths. Of reliving their time at the Paideia. And who could blame them?
To ascend through those steps was to pass to a different realm altogether. At the very top, you were greeted, not by the tyrannical heat so intrinsic to Theosmati climate, but by verdant sun rays, filtered through the World Tree’s innumerable leaves. The winds were not so strident there. They hissed no more, whispering, instead, as they passed through, tranquil and transient.
Pebbled across the bark beneath your feet were whole swaths of greenery, little pockets from the past. Offshoot branches, sprouts from the World Tree itself, populated the area, lending itself to a forest-like scenery.
At the heart of this miniature forest was the Paideia itself, an infinite structure that extended throughout the whole cradle itself. The pillars served as the walls for most of the institution, plenty in number, and each a stout figure that held the grand ceiling on high. Small stars, barely imperceptible to the untrained eye, zipped through the pillars, fleeting colours in flight.
A perfect paradise, indeed.
What they never told you, however, was the mind-numbing monotony of paperwork that would follow upon your arrival.
Your first month was spent being tossed around this way and that by professors who, in their words, “had more important things to do than to tell you what forms you were missing.” It was either get it right or be stuck in the strife that was to follow. Sign a non-disclosure agreement this, sign a club registration that. Oh, you don’t have form 3-9ad25j? Have fun tracking down the professor in charge of that!
Suffice it to say, the Paideia was understaffed, and you, overwhelmed. You sign a little bit of your soul away with every new form required of you.
And even after all that, it’s far from over, especially with the Day of Requiem fast approaching.
The Day of Requiem was oft celebrated with much sobriety, as it is then when their God took to slumber and left the world devastated. Coincidentally, it also falls on the same week the welcoming ceremony was to take place. With two events to prepare for, every club has their work cut out for them.
Including yours.
The space delegated to the Archaeology Club was a tiny nook, hidden deep within the labryinthian library. Though getting there was an inconvenience, the club never raised a complaint. Its focus, after all, was rather niche, and usually never had numbers into the double digits.
This year, however, was different. For once, fate decided to favour the club, bestowing unto it a whole host of first years. Now, it’s up to the acting representative to keep that favour strong.
And for his first order of business: getting the group to work on what their stall will be.
Many of the interviewed played with the idea of returning to their youths. Of reliving their time at the Paideia. And who could blame them?
To ascend through those steps was to pass to a different realm altogether. At the very top, you were greeted, not by the tyrannical heat so intrinsic to Theosmati climate, but by verdant sun rays, filtered through the World Tree’s innumerable leaves. The winds were not so strident there. They hissed no more, whispering, instead, as they passed through, tranquil and transient.
Pebbled across the bark beneath your feet were whole swaths of greenery, little pockets from the past. Offshoot branches, sprouts from the World Tree itself, populated the area, lending itself to a forest-like scenery.
At the heart of this miniature forest was the Paideia itself, an infinite structure that extended throughout the whole cradle itself. The pillars served as the walls for most of the institution, plenty in number, and each a stout figure that held the grand ceiling on high. Small stars, barely imperceptible to the untrained eye, zipped through the pillars, fleeting colours in flight.
A perfect paradise, indeed.
What they never told you, however, was the mind-numbing monotony of paperwork that would follow upon your arrival.
Your first month was spent being tossed around this way and that by professors who, in their words, “had more important things to do than to tell you what forms you were missing.” It was either get it right or be stuck in the strife that was to follow. Sign a non-disclosure agreement this, sign a club registration that. Oh, you don’t have form 3-9ad25j? Have fun tracking down the professor in charge of that!
Suffice it to say, the Paideia was understaffed, and you, overwhelmed. You sign a little bit of your soul away with every new form required of you.
And even after all that, it’s far from over, especially with the Day of Requiem fast approaching.
The Day of Requiem was oft celebrated with much sobriety, as it is then when their God took to slumber and left the world devastated. Coincidentally, it also falls on the same week the welcoming ceremony was to take place. With two events to prepare for, every club has their work cut out for them.
Including yours.
○ ○ ○ — ○ ○ ○
The space delegated to the Archaeology Club was a tiny nook, hidden deep within the labryinthian library. Though getting there was an inconvenience, the club never raised a complaint. Its focus, after all, was rather niche, and usually never had numbers into the double digits.
This year, however, was different. For once, fate decided to favour the club, bestowing unto it a whole host of first years. Now, it’s up to the acting representative to keep that favour strong.
And for his first order of business: getting the group to work on what their stall will be.
lumbago
Back in Business
Feral
Your local lackadaisical spirit
Shoya
Burn My Dread
Shoya stands in the back of the nook, leaning up against a wall. He has his face tilted towards the ground, but is keeping the front in his peripheral vision, as to give the illusion of not caring. In truth, he wasn't sure how he ended up signed up for this class, though he figured it was probably in one of those numerous papers he had to sign. Normally he takes something like signing a document serious, but after the 5th, he felt that everything so far had been fine so simply began to sign everything. To Shoya, the idea of a play sounding nauseatingly horrible, but he kept his mouth shut. After all, he really didn't have a better idea. He sighs to himself, thinking about how he lived in Aniketos. He was here now, and he couldn't afford to screw this up. This meant he had to take everything with at least some level of seriousness, which unfortunately for him, included this random club. He hadn't even looked at the people in the club, only keeping vague track of how many people were in the meeting. But that's besides the point. What ridiculous play could they be thinking of? A part of him admittingly had a bit of curiosity, briefly creating a fantasy scenario of playing a character who would monologue about society and lead the rest of the school to realize the horrors of humanity. Though, even he knows that would never happen. All he could do was hope he played some background character or maybe was a person helping from off the stage.
Powowow
one rocky boi
The skies above bore a golden hue, speckled occasionally with strokes of white and blue. If paid close enough attention, you could see the dust suspended in the air, still like the stories shown in paintings.
Almost immediately, her hands itched, eager to do something. More often than not, she was always fidgeting, whether it was fingering the seams of her hair or sketching her newest project, they were always moving. Now though, her hands sat still at her side, not forgetting the harsh words of her teacher.
"Still your hands, girl!" the professor had admonished after he had caught her one too many times doodling away. The horrible treatment had only been offset by the whispers seething behind her back as the students filed out of class.
She promised herself that she would try to stay her hand, but like many things, it became increasingly harder to uphold that promise. After a minute or two, she couldn't take it anymore. She traced her hands along the dirty desk she had taken, drawing forth fantastical creatures upon its face. With the horrid day she had just gone through, she would allow herself this small pleasure.
Still, it did not distract her from the growing desire that gnawed at her with each passing second. She hadn't had time to check the library, what with the school and her poor scheduling. Her foot tapped impatiently as she waited for the meeting to be over with already.
She looked up from her nearly finished sketch, a dragon sprouting six wings, and instead focused her bundled energies on the boy up front. He was discussing something, though the words came out garbled to Phi as she came from her dreary haze.
"–welcome ceremomy coming up. To that end, we need to start working on that stall. Deadline of three weeks. Anyone got a better idea?"
He had scrawled in white chalk at the board the simple message: stage a play. She read the lines three times, the first time mindlessly seeing white letters, and the second registering the silence all around. The third time however finally imparted its meaning into her, and with it, a quickening sense of dread. Her heart thundered in her chest, nearly leaping out of her throat as she thought of standing up in front of thousands.
"Er, sir," she said, rising up from her seat. "M-milord, events like that would require weeks of planning and preparation. I'm not sure our…" she paused for a moment. "...group..would s-suffice for such a task." She tried to imbue her wirds with confidence, but her shaky legs did nothing to boost her esteem as she spoke. She could only pray to the goddess that no one cared to check below.
Almost immediately, her hands itched, eager to do something. More often than not, she was always fidgeting, whether it was fingering the seams of her hair or sketching her newest project, they were always moving. Now though, her hands sat still at her side, not forgetting the harsh words of her teacher.
"Still your hands, girl!" the professor had admonished after he had caught her one too many times doodling away. The horrible treatment had only been offset by the whispers seething behind her back as the students filed out of class.
She promised herself that she would try to stay her hand, but like many things, it became increasingly harder to uphold that promise. After a minute or two, she couldn't take it anymore. She traced her hands along the dirty desk she had taken, drawing forth fantastical creatures upon its face. With the horrid day she had just gone through, she would allow herself this small pleasure.
Still, it did not distract her from the growing desire that gnawed at her with each passing second. She hadn't had time to check the library, what with the school and her poor scheduling. Her foot tapped impatiently as she waited for the meeting to be over with already.
She looked up from her nearly finished sketch, a dragon sprouting six wings, and instead focused her bundled energies on the boy up front. He was discussing something, though the words came out garbled to Phi as she came from her dreary haze.
"–welcome ceremomy coming up. To that end, we need to start working on that stall. Deadline of three weeks. Anyone got a better idea?"
He had scrawled in white chalk at the board the simple message: stage a play. She read the lines three times, the first time mindlessly seeing white letters, and the second registering the silence all around. The third time however finally imparted its meaning into her, and with it, a quickening sense of dread. Her heart thundered in her chest, nearly leaping out of her throat as she thought of standing up in front of thousands.
"Er, sir," she said, rising up from her seat. "M-milord, events like that would require weeks of planning and preparation. I'm not sure our…" she paused for a moment. "...group..would s-suffice for such a task." She tried to imbue her wirds with confidence, but her shaky legs did nothing to boost her esteem as she spoke. She could only pray to the goddess that no one cared to check below.
Last edited:
Idea
The Pun Tyrant
Interacting With:
lumbago
Feral
Shoya
Powowow
SomebodyElse
Historia Calamatium
KookyJar
Mentions: N/A
Might Also Want to Read:
AriAriAbabwa
KaramelKarmaStep 1: Use the appropriate version. If you're on a computer Coded is the right one, if you're one a phone, the phone version. If you don't like my code (understandable) or have some trouble with code in general, feel free to use the semi-coded version.
Step 2: Click on "Insert Coin" to move out of the menu and into the post
Step 3: Scroll through the middle (horizontal) of the post to see the text (coded version) or through the one after the box with the "play" symbol on it (phone version)
Step 4: Read the post
Step 5: Enjoy
Step 6: ???
Step 7: Profit!
Step 2: Click on "Insert Coin" to move out of the menu and into the post
Step 3: Scroll through the middle (horizontal) of the post to see the text (coded version) or through the one after the box with the "play" symbol on it (phone version)
Step 4: Read the post
Step 5: Enjoy
Step 6: ???
Step 7: Profit!
Last edited:
AriAriAbabwa
Don't lose Ari~♪ Shine bright Ari~♪
Feral
Your local lackadaisical spirit
Last edited:
lumbago
Back in Business
Historia Calamatium
the golden rule is there is no golden rule
Lavi dreamt of blue skies and a gentle breeze as the clouds over head moved lazily across the horizon above.
What he would give to be cloud drifting aimlessly in the wind.
Free of expectations.
Free of demands.
Free of deciding what the archaeology stall would be for the welcoming ceremony????
'Why in the world would that even be a concern of mine? Lavi found himself wondering until his blue skies and cumulus clouds were swallowed by the abyss of waking.
BANG!!!!
Sitting or rather slouched in a section mid-way in the back of the room, Lavi awoken to a intense discussion on quiz shows or stage plays or something to that effect. He wasn't really listening. He didn't really care. His attention now on the pair up front.
Of course he recognized the Sword of Mallum, Alfen Lumiel. Or was it the Shield of Mallum? Lavi never cared to remember. The second person was someone he only knew by name. Adelaine Hali Onda. The saintness to be. Lavi pondered for a second as he shook off the sleep weighing down his body if this Nikias fellow was blessed with good luck as he seemed to be amassing quite the collection of talent.
"I vote for YAWN whatever is easier." Lavi stated as he tilted back in his seat not making any effort to stiffle his yawn. "Though I will admit if your goal is to sell the club a quiz show works. Also less work for me. Win-Win in my book."
What he would give to be cloud drifting aimlessly in the wind.
Free of expectations.
Free of demands.
Free of deciding what the archaeology stall would be for the welcoming ceremony????
'Why in the world would that even be a concern of mine? Lavi found himself wondering until his blue skies and cumulus clouds were swallowed by the abyss of waking.
BANG!!!!
Sitting or rather slouched in a section mid-way in the back of the room, Lavi awoken to a intense discussion on quiz shows or stage plays or something to that effect. He wasn't really listening. He didn't really care. His attention now on the pair up front.
Of course he recognized the Sword of Mallum, Alfen Lumiel. Or was it the Shield of Mallum? Lavi never cared to remember. The second person was someone he only knew by name. Adelaine Hali Onda. The saintness to be. Lavi pondered for a second as he shook off the sleep weighing down his body if this Nikias fellow was blessed with good luck as he seemed to be amassing quite the collection of talent.
"I vote for YAWN whatever is easier." Lavi stated as he tilted back in his seat not making any effort to stiffle his yawn. "Though I will admit if your goal is to sell the club a quiz show works. Also less work for me. Win-Win in my book."
Idea
The Pun Tyrant
Interacting With:
lumbago
AriAriAbabwa
Mentions:
Feral
Might Also Want to Read: Everyone basically
Step 1: Use the appropriate version. If you're on a computer Coded is the right one, if you're one a phone, the phone version. If you don't like my code (understandable) or have some trouble with code in general, feel free to use the semi-coded version.
Step 2: Click on "Insert Coin" to move out of the menu and into the post
Step 3: Scroll through the middle (horizontal) of the post to see the text (coded version) or through the one after the box with the "play" symbol on it (phone version)
Step 4: Read the post
Step 5: Enjoy
Step 6: ???
Step 7: Profit!
Step 2: Click on "Insert Coin" to move out of the menu and into the post
Step 3: Scroll through the middle (horizontal) of the post to see the text (coded version) or through the one after the box with the "play" symbol on it (phone version)
Step 4: Read the post
Step 5: Enjoy
Step 6: ???
Step 7: Profit!
Users who are viewing this thread
Similar threads
