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

[Soviet Panda]

Buras came out of the cafeteria with a tray piled pricariously high with food. Now by no means was he not fed when he was in his tribe. He just never had the chance to eat this much food. And it was all so varied, so new! He had eaten the same thing day after day in the prairies, and none of it had been like this. It was like what you would eat when the tribe celebrated someone acheiving adulthood, and even then it all delended where they were at.


He would have eaten it all right then and there except for one thing, it was just all so over whelming. There was to much for him to process all at once, and his simple mind was having trouble keeping up. He would no doubt get used to it eventually, but this wasn't eventually. So had decided to leave the clustered environment of the cafeteria for somethif a bit more spacious. Like a nice open area, without any trees and the sun beating down. Ok, perhaps he was a bit home sick.


And thanks to him being preoccupied with keeping the stack of food upright and off the floor, he failed to notice the girl in the wheel chair. And because he didn't notice her, he accodently bumped into her, and stubbed a toe in the process. But still he didn't take his attention away from the now leaning tower, fir he didn't want it to go past leaning and onto the person he has already caused some amount of trouble. Getting it under controle, he straightens carefully and slowly turns around, stalling as he looked for the right words to say.


"Apologies." he said, fiddling nervously with one of his jaw piercings. Was that the right word? Or did that mean he wanted her to apologies? Well, she was sitting in a chair out in the middle of… where was this? Oh well, didn't matter, he'll find ou where he was latter. For all he knew, people sitting out in random places was completely normal in this culture. And if that was the case, he should apologize for kicking her chair.

 

[animegirl20]

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​

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself. You forget what kind of students come here, they're all here because they passed that entrance exam that sorted the weak from the strong. Some of the upperclassmen can be quite dangerous."


Eruna looked over at him and shrugged. "True but I've dealt with worse. I don't think half of those people could survive my home town." It was amazing that her mother was even able to live there. Considering...... "Now don't judge me by my looks by the way. I'm a lot stronger then I look...Hey will I get to learn Illsion magic to?"


"Either way, they shouldn't bother you too much if our Student Council President is around. Not many people have that much of a deathwish"


"I don't need protection. I can take care of myself." Though she was happy to be making new friends. She sort of had this wall up of don't get to close. The only real way to tell this is the fact she doesn't want help in anything prefers to do it alone. Plus where she's from it was hard to really trust people especially with your life that was one thing you couldn't do.


"Hey, Eruna, would it be fine to call you Runa?"


"Yeah sure sounds cool to me. Never had nickname before."


"I think we should work counterclockwise, then by the end of the tour we'll end up at the residential area, where we can take a break."


"Alright then lets do this! I want to see this place." She stood up tired of sitting there.


@One Mean Ghost


@LeonardPCollins

 

[One Mean Ghost]

​

Kuroneko watched a little amused as the President pulled out her little device that projected a hologram. Although it was detailed, it had nothing on his illusion magic.


"Now don't judge me by my looks by the way. I'm a lot stronger then I look...Hey will I get to learn Illsion magic to?"


"Do you even realize the irony in telling someone that specializes in Illusion magic not to judge something by looks?" He asked raising an eyebrow before laughing quite heartily. "As for learning it yourself.... I'd say probably not. Illusion magic isn't like other magics you hear about... It's one of the two 'Natural Magics'. Divination is the other one. Long story short, it's a magic you either got or you don't. With Illusion magic, you need an imaginative mind capable of designing the illusions, and a natural talent pulling on the Ether to bring them into existence. Lacking either component means no illusions for you." He explained. Normally, he wasn't one to go telling everyone his magic was all illusions. It took away the element of surprise. But even if one knew it was an illusion, it wasn't so easy to convince the body, which responded to fear in different ways.


Besides, from what Kuro knew of the President, she was gifted well beyond her years, as evidenced by her being the President and still a fourth year. Odds are she already knew, or suspected that much. But she had no way of knowing how powerful his illusions are. At high enough levels, Illusions can even FEEL real, to the point it could be counted as physical torture. Sadly, Kuro wasn't at that level just yet, but no one knew that, and he wasn't about to tell anyone that much.


Besides, it looked like Eruna was raring to go. He chuckled softly.


"Well, Miss President, it looks like we have a tour to conduct" He remarked standing up from his seat and picking up his tray, putting it onto the collection carousel before making his way back to the two girls, his tail swishing casually behind him. In addition to this tour, he'd have to actually watch for rule breakers now... Odds are, Miss President (she never gave HIM permission to use her name) would want him to start his job immediately... He wondered if there was some badge or uniform for the Disciplinary Committee he was supposed to wear or something. He'd never actually seen one of the members before...





@LeonardPCollins @animegirl20

 

[CupAndCough]

Josiah Weyland : The Strife Brought-Passion-Filled Bastard Summoner

​

[The Voice of The Raging Heart | Location: Roof] :The cat claws dug into his skin for a moment, a bit of a wince came forth--but surprisingly he held no grudge against the feline. He was a son of a doctor, while he hadn't take any form of an Hippocratic oath to protect and treat those with strong compassion--Josiah merely took it as a patient lashing out


"Aren't you a strange one? Creatures like you tend to be more affectionate when with little kits." He chuckled. Josiah decided to leave the cat alone before he got scratched once more. The healing of his wound had begun as he turned his head. Missing Creighton's attempt to intervene. As if to show no more trouble than he need


Josiah halted for a moment as the door slammed, he felt as if he made a transgression. The sound shook his core for a moment. The boy was scared merely by the sounds, a simple animal like response. A loud noise often would catch anyone off guard, but Josiah felt surprised by it. His summon. Louis. Dealt with sound, it was as if something else tipped him off. Josiah pondered for a moment if the boy heard him, turning his heel and body toward the boy. Josiah wasn't harsh on the eyes, but rather intimidating with a permanent scowl and frown scrawled on his face like some gruff and tough action hero. It was something, Josiah often hated this--but it came in hand for a few situations. Never made him much friends though. Regardless, Josiah turned his body to the boy--a look over the shoulder, eyebrow raised, then a small heel turn. Creighton had returned to playing with his cat, Josiah watched the two. Listening in on the little talks Creighton had with the feline, trying to appease it and play with the animal.


His eyebrow was still raised. It perplexed him somewhat that they allowed pets in this school. Children were cruel and they rather torture those who are held most dear. Josiah walked towards the boy and leaned on the railing. He wasn't too close--but he was close enough to be called adjacent to the boy.


He sipped his flask and spoke "That cat yours? You sure yer allowed to have her around here? I ain't gonna tell anybody, but still--you think you can take care of a cat in a place like this?" . He took a swig of his flask to punctuate his statement, he did seem genuinely concerned however it was an "I'm too cool to care" attitude about it the belied something else

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@LeonardPCollins

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[LeonardPCollins]

creighton r. & elizabeth r.

Creighton laughed as he made the cat run in small circles, chasing the orange feather. This would help strengthen her muscles for childbirth, and hopefully liven up her mood from being alert and on edge to relaxed and gamely. He could tell right away by Snowball's laser focus on the toy feather that she had completely forgotten about the small confrontation with the boy a while ago. Creighton giggled. "Come on." he continued playing with Snowball, jerking the feather up as she was about to catch it between her paws, slipping it from her clasp every time. he pocketed the toy and patted his lap, to which the feline climbed onto. On normal circumstances she would have leaped with giddy energy but now with four to eight kits in waiting she was not as agile. "You're all tuckered out aren't you, Snowball?" he fawned over the ghost-white animal. He laid a hand on her back, and felt the slow rise and fall of her flesh as she breathed heavily. Being pregnant must have taken the energy from her. That's fine. He could sit here for as long as it was beeded. Creighton massaged the area between her head and neck where the nerve endings were clumped, and proceeded downwards to her back, scratching the fur in between. He was becoming relaxed himself, syncing his breaths with his cat as time seemed to pass quickly.


"That cat yours? You sure yer allowed to have her around here? I ain't gonna tell anybody, but still--you think you can take care of a cat in a place like this?" .


He yelped as a voice startled him. Again, his carelessness got the better of him. He had to pay attention more to his surroundings! Now next to him was a tall not to mention gruff figure with a flask. He didn't need to look at him to know, for his shadow told him enough. He was certainly the boy from before who startled Snowball. Creighton, protectively, cradled his cat and quivered in a position screaming, 'If you are going to hurt me, make it quick.'


After Josiah spoke, he unfurled from his defensive position to let Snowball down, "N-no... I found her as a kitten and nursed her... please don't tell anyone. Pets aren't allowed." Creighton may have made a mistake in telling him, as he had made many mistakes putting trust in the wrong people. "Don't tell anyone." He repeated his plea meekly as if he were begging.


Elizabeth

"Right then," She started the tour with a step toward the exit, her hologram map leading the way. "We have a lot of ground to cover, so best we cover it up before dark."


Fron exiting straight out the door she already had her eyes set on the gymnasium set in the distance. it was a rather large structure whose appearance is mostly composed of reflective glass and steel buttresses. It was large enough to cast its own shadow upon another nearby building with the sun at the correct position. Its base took the form of a broad oval. "This is the gymnasium." She started, "It is a recent renovation of the previous one we had which didn't suit a lot of our needs. Now it is a multi platform sports arena and fitness center with several rooms dedicated to contact sports clubs like the Kendo club, fencing, wrestling, magical martial arts and etcetera." It only grew in size as they stepped up to the doors, dwarfing the three in its imposing silhouette. Liz slid her card and the doors parted to let them enter to the first floor multi purpose arena. It was a large coliseum complete with rows of bleachers all poised to the center court that was wood with many colored lines forming the courts of different sports. With a flick of the light switch, even more of the court was revealed including the score boards, ventilation system, and much more.

 

[CupAndCough]

Josiah Weyland : The Strife Brought-Passion-Filled Bastard Summoner

​

[The Voice of The Raging Heart | Location: Roof] : Josiah took a swig as the boy reacted to his presence. Scared. Josiah had no idea why he would be though, it wasn't his appearance he suspected. The fear felt inlaid to the boy's natural reactions. He traced the boy's movement with a sense of analyzing distancing that kept his emotionally detached, Josiah wasn't going to hold this boy responsible for whatever emotional out-lash and feedback Josiah or Creighton could go about having.,,


Being detached felt more powerful in a situation like this. A situation where he couldn't pin-point the tangible ground, the lack of stability in the boy's fear felt daunting for Josiah/. Was this how people normally thought? On how they could manipulate a situation enough to feel comfortable? It felt natural to go into this state. Felt beneficial. Felt like how things in a blue blood world was supposed to go. As he watched the boy fumble about with himself and his companion, The shave head teen let out a small "Hmph". It came from mild and calm amusement. Seeing how easily the boy scared Josiah felt nothing really harmful from him. A wallflower, yes. but not a torture soul willing to start trouble. Was he underestimating him? Was he just thinking the more easily assumed looks of the boy? Josiah's minute form of paranoia didn't help this--but his begrudging compassion shined through/


"N-no... I found her as a kitten and nursed her... please don't tell anyone. Pets aren't allowed." (Creighton Dialog), As soon as those words Josiah sipped forth from his flask. It's shining metal exterior glared into his eyes reminding him of the minor delinquency he was also committing on school grounds, Josiah may have well used it to play to the boy's safety. He finished his swig with a lazily, but stylish whipping of his finger over his heart. "...And hope to die." He finished his cool little display of trust, but with the winds bellowing around them he jutted out his arm to the boy. There in his grasp was the flask. It was silent for a moment as the metal cap jangled by the beating wind slamming it into the rigid frame. Josiah did not directly look to the boy, merely he leaned over the railing with his head half-cocked to the fearful schoolmate. His scowl less harsh than before, but it was stern and silent....


Breaking the silence on the forest grove like roof, he spoke once more "Consider it a pact. My sins trusted to you and yours to be trusted to me., seems fine, yeah?" He said with almost a devilish quip to it. Signing a deal with a grouch was nowhere near as bad signing one with a devil, Josiah was sure of that. As the flask shined, the sunlight gleamed against it. With a fraction of a second, one could see Josiah's face make a miraculous change of fate. Something forced it to change into a new state and form. Etched upon his gruff face.





A smirk. Josiah, of course was being a good person---or so he thought. Peer pressure to drink isn't exactly the morally good, but their sins would be held to them if Creighton chose it. Of course Josiah wouldn't make even the effort to tell the authorities on campus, too much work and too much conversation with people he would obviously nor like.


"Don't feel guilty for taking care of life, I want you to feel guilty for being a part of it". Josiah spoke as he shifted his eyes to the horizon, the way he spoke and whispered those words seemed as if he was reciting it. He spoke further "My father had a book with that written in it. It was said by a fatalist--someone who saw nothing but the terminal end of things/ If we have to live with that life I rather not keep my sins alone. I rather feel guilty for not being able to break the shackles of those who sin. Rather than just protecting it." He chuckled his words seemed a bit convoluted, Josiah spoke too little in heart and to the world, but to a single person he would speak volumes. Perhaps he spoke to much here.


"Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris." He said proudly, if only faintly. "No, I will not feel guilty. I will not feel guilty for living a life, will you? You chose to protect, and that's at least admirable. I chose to drink, and that is at least understandable. This is a part of life and that has been chosen by ourselves. It's only right that it is a bigger sin to regret it than actually doing it, ya know?!."


He shook the flask once more, "To living a life?" The smirk, bolstered with arrogance and brimming with self-satisfaction shined against the flask. It gleamed a light that was infectious. Josiah admired the boy and thus he payed tribute--but it told much more about him....but that's for another time.

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@LeonardPCollins

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[LeonardPCollins]

creighton r. & elizabeth r.

​

Creighton

It was at this point that Creighton recognized this person as a non-threat. He dare not look up any more than his boy's presence would allow. It didn't help that he was holding a flask, a general violation of school policy, not just in Damasceane but in most schools as well. It didn't help that he looked the type to beat someone up at a moment's notice. Call it descrimination, but Creighton has learned whom to avoid, which was generally anybody that resembled a thug. Then again, he had his fair share of betrayals from, dare he say, smart-looking people. It was always the glasses of some geek that lowers his guard around them. It was the presence of a disability in relation to his own condition. HE felt safer around weaker people, or at least weaker-looking, because in a dust-up he knows who would probably win or at least be able to get away effectively. But with this tall, boyish student standing next to him, he felt like there was no escape, especially with pregnant Snowball. With long legs, he could out run him easily, no doubt. With burly arms, he could strangle or grapple him. A 'please don't hurt me' was muttered, albeit shallowly, far too shallow for the taller boy to hear as every word Creighton hoped to muster died before reaching his lips. It was pitiful, how weak he was. Good enough to enter Damasceane Integrated University, yet not enough to stand alongside with the rest. Surely there were others in his position, right? HE treated the boy next to him like a bear. Maybe if he were to stand still for a while, he would lose interest and walk away. That was what he was hoping.


However, what happened was far from what he hoped, but at least it provided some sense of security. The tall, rugged boy crossed the tip of his index finger over his heart, vowing to keep a secret. It'd take a lot more than a drunken gesture to convince him to trust him. Was that all he did to lure him into trusting him? Even Creighton mentally scoffed, yet still remained looking afraid. In one quick motion the flask was trusted right in front of his face. It took a moment to realize what in Essidor was happening. Did the tall boy want him to drink? Some kind of blood pact? A shake of the hand, hell even the assurance of not telling a soul was perfect and dandy, but offering a stranger, not to mention a minor a drink was crossing the line. Would the tall boy react violently if he were to refuse? Creighton feared the worst he could do was to rough him up. "Sorry, I don't drink." The words he has been meaning to say had finally erupted in a short burst. He felt both proud of himself to have conveyed his refusal, in spite of how intimidating the person offering the drink was. But at the same time, he felt doubly as fearful as to what his reaction could be to his abject refusal. "Thanks." He would follow up. "But I don't like alcohol." The strong smell, however faint to many others, still was enough to make him gag in revulsion. But he dare not show his disgust for the foul liquid.


From a flask to a lecture on philosophy. The still recluse Creighton imagined that there was more than just alcohol in what he was drinking. The first set of words that he gave made no sense to him, with no bit of context whatsoever. Then the next made it seem less obscure, less nonsensical. To Creighton, Philosophy was only a subject of reading, nothing to ponder deep into. He was however not unfamiliar with fatalism. It was bleak, and possibly pessimistic. It reminded him of something he used to say in grade school as an excuse for his failures: 'Whatever happens, happens.' As if everyone's fate was sealed, etched in stone, written on a book of some deity. There was something crucial missing from that, one word, which was 'reason', thus forming 'Everything happens for a reason.' It is in this that he was able to escape his fate of being a grade school flunk. He recognized the reason in his ill trending grades, and fixed it with determination and hard work. Looks like he advanced two years for a reason.


Creighton listened once more to the philosopher drunkard. Everything the philosopher said made his small head shake. "I disagree. A life lived badly is worth feeling guilty of, definitely. It all sounds like an excuse to live however one dictates it." He muttered at his final point, "It's not a sin to regret at all. Regret reminds us not to leave it all up to fate. Perhaps we didn't have a choice then, in that which caused us regret, but it at least gives direction." Creighton would know this better. He wasn't particularly happy of what he did when he was younger, stupider.





@CupAndCough

 

[Ariel]

Sandra Cross

​

It really was a lovely day wasn't it? And it certainly helped create the image in her story of a sunny day atop a hill where a Prince and a Princess stood together. Love was a funny thing wasn't it? Hard to understand. And sometimes easy to feel, develop, and share. If love was something one was able to grasp, what would it look like? Feel like? Would it be red or pink maybe like people often described hearts and little lovely things? Was it warm? It had to be warm if it was love. Sandra also assumed it would be sticky and hard to be rid of, always leaving a residue in it's place after the original substance was gone, a reminder for what was once there. Now, it started to sound a little like blood...


And there Sandra was, going off on a tangent again within her thoughts. Floating higher than the clouds and making her own world up there. She pulled open the second book on her lap which wasn't a novel at all but a journal and began to scribble down notes; abstract thoughts that might later build another story.


She was a little stumped on how to word something that so vividly picture itself in her head, her tongue just barely jutting from between her lips in an expression of deep concentration when she felt a light bump against her chair. Sandra had been so deep in her thoughts that she hadn't seen the person who had walked up to her, supporting a leaning tower of food. But instead of saying anything at first, she looked surprised. The precariously dangerous tower didn't seem to worry her any either.


After getting a closer look at the male, her eyes widened. He's pretty.


Sandra went right back down to her notebook, now furiously scribbling down notes and even trying to draw a neat little rough sketch of the feathered man before her. Usually this meant she would incorporate who or whatever she encountered in a story later too. Considering she had never encountered someone like this before, she'd probably do some research too. It was a bit difficult to meet a person of a race she didn't know at least something about nowadays. A challenge even. Learning; Her second favorite thing to do. When she was satisfied with her notes, she closed her journal with a light thud and looked back up at him with a gentle and open smile.


"It's alright," Sandra assured him softly.


Then she waited silently, with the same faint smile on her lips to see if anything would happen. It might have been awkward to others when she did this, but she was rather patient. It was possible Sandra might have remained like that for several minutes, just waiting if another person was willing to just stand there too. One might think she might go about life impatiently because of the possible fate she might meet, but Sandra was a "Smell the roses" kind of girl.


After a few moments, Sandra suddenly thought of something to say and pursed her lips as she thought it over before it left her lips.


"Would it be rude of me to ask where you are from?"

 

[Soviet Panda]

Buras stood there, looking at the girl who was in turn looking at him. He had gotten it right, that was good. But now what? The way she was looking at him made him feel like there was something more to it, let alone the way she had furiously scribbled in one of her books after seeing him. Was that normal? He didn't know, probably. So, not knowing what else to do, he stood there, food still untouched. Well, maybe not for long. He would eat it eventually, standing or otherwise, whether he was being interrogated or not.


Then the girl spoke up again, this time with a question. Where was he from? Well that was simple. He knew where he had come from. "I'm from Uros. Clan Todo." he said pridefully. And why shouldn't he be proud of where he came from? They had done well without the eastern countries, and that was something to be proud of. But they did have to accept the fact that they did need to advance, and that they would either have to keep up or die. But that's why he was here. "I am Buras Todo. Son of Narsoon, son of Falur." he continued, preemptively, 'Was that the right word?' he thought to himself, answering the question for his name. Unless they didn't do that here, then he just looked like a fool.


((@Stamper))

 

[CupAndCough]

Josiah Weyland : The Strife Brought-Passion-Filled Bastard Summoner

​

[The Voice of The Raging Heart | Location: Roof] : Josiah's visage did not shift as Creighton denied sipping from the flask. However the sense of fear felt less gratifying at the moment, feeling as if he was being looked as a threat in someway rather than a person. He chuckled as he tried to grapple with the thought. Somewhere these contradicting emotions were a bit too harsh on him being able to enjoy humanity and those around him. The meek mutterings the boy had weren't entirely comforting either. Where was this kid's backbone? His sense of pride and enjoyment? Boy of the smaller frame perplexed him so, different than most children or teens he knew--the few that he did know. Josiah's arrogant smile stained his face for a bit longer, lasting as still kind as it appeared--even as he recoiled his arm to the boy's denial of the flask. He hoped he would understand that this gruff looking dude wouldn't put that much effort in getting him in trouble.


"I still won't tell anyone, kid. You gotta hide her better though--Teenagers are rough", Josiah spoke with a bit of earnest emotion and experience to his voice. A bit of scorn and swallowed pride, but glazed over with the arrogant smirk. He took another gulp from his flask, listening to the boy further. He openly chuckled and snickered as the boy admitted to his dislike alcohol. 'Is that how kids are supposed to be? Am I supposed to be like this?'. The boy's voice felt as if he was talking to someone a bit broken, somehow he felt a kinship in that regard. Being broken by the trials of life in a way. The shaven head boy ponder upon the idea of himself appearing this weak, did this become of those who had no fire once broken? Was he that lacking in spirit?


The talk of fatalism and the thoughts of being broken in by the trials and tribulations spark a bit of rage in him. It was confining to think such weak thoughts. Josiah scorned himself for showing this much emotion, but it was nothing like the rage he felt towards the concepts that philosophy like fatalism tried to deal with.


Josiah's life was broken in for what it was, a year or two without the use of his legs, without being able to feel anything--right after the loss of his mother. What kept him from being someone like this boy? Rage? Determination? As he theorized he listened to the boy. His eyes widened a bit as he debated the idea of not feeling guilty for one's actions.


"I disagree. A life lived badly is worth feeling guilty of, definitely. It all sounds like an excuse to live however one dictates it." (Creighton), Josiah's face turned to a neutral position. Agreed somewhat, but it felt as if the boy held his own projection to the idea of feeling guilt.


"If I were to follow your words, I would follow it with the intentions that regret is a motivation." He reflected upon his mother. Upon the research team. It was a cross he felt he need to bear, something that kept him going. That tug on his soul that forced him to move forward. But in the end did that mean that regret cannot be shifted into something else? Metamorphosing into something different.


"We all have our sins, our regrets--but is the choice to let them not become something is our choice. I don't subscribe to fate, I see you on that point...However." He held his thought for a moment and flickered his eyes to the boy for a second "Regret should not stay regret for long. It should turn into rage. Into determination. Fate is just giving up on free will, a Destiny is just folks feel comfortable leaving their lives to. I rather fight and claw my way through life. Save as many as I can, regret those who I couldn't--but still walk forward with the same belief that I need to save everyone."


He turned silent, shuffling his flask into his coat. Josiah folded his arms over the rail and leaned forward. He continued "I rather not say I have regrets, rather I have motivation for moving forward. Pretty sappy, ya know?" He chuckled, realizing how easily he went back on his ideas of not regretting anything. "I don't make much sense do I? I guess I do and don't have regrets, but I do not feel guilty for having those regrets--only the actions I failed to make. But that subsides to my drive, what I need to do. A purpose. Then it's not regret anymore, ya know? Therefore I have no regrets", A cheeky smile appeared on his face. He looked towards the horizon, the wind felt cool on his skin. The booze was beginning to heat him up, the cool air felt calming to his skin.


There was a long pause till the scruffy looking teen piped up once more, "The name is Josiah.", he ended his thought on that.

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@LeonardPCollins

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[Dead]

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Light.


That was the first thing Luseia could process with her somnolent mind as her closed eyelids flinched at the burning sensation from a crack in the curtains letting the rising sun leak into the dark room. She flinched again and groan in annoyance, not wanting to wake up just yet and rolled over to the other side of the bed to flee from the light. Curling her body into a tight ball, she snuggled deeper into the comfort of her pillow and hugged the stuffed animal in her arms tighter in hopes to fall asleep again by keeping enough body heat to doze her off back to dreamland. Smacking her lips, she was slowly falling back into a hazy state close to falling asleep until she felt a rumble shook her and gurgling noises indicating disturbance in the pit of her stomach wincing to be satisfied at once.


A battle fought in Luseia's mind on her body's needs of both sleep and food but, of course, her stomach would always come out victorious. Rubbing her face in her pillow to savor the comfortable spot, she soon shot up from her bed - throwing the blanket off in the process - and discarded her stuffed animal on the bed while she got up to grab the things she'll need in the bathroom. Throwing a towel over her shoulder and grabbing her uniform, she headed straight towards the bathroom to get ready for the day while returning a greeting to the AI as the news was broadcasted on the glass screen.


Thirty minutes later...


Watching the news for a few minutes, she soon shut it off and finally gave in to her stomach after a few groans of protest, "Alright, time to grab some grub and get the day going." Luseia mumbled to herself and grabbed her belongings she would need (ID, headphones, etc.) to get through the day. Slipping on her shoes, Luseia exited out of her room towards the cafeteria as she recalled the directions given last night from DIU's representative. Following what was instructed before, it didn't take her long to find it as the sweet scent of food filled her senses. Another groan escaped her stomach as it caught the message that food was near and without a second to waste, Luseia made a dash into the room, not even noticing the commotion as her eyes were glued to the wonderful dishes awaiting for her, "Time to stuff my face off." Grabbing whatever her stomach desired, her tray was towered with an assortment of dishes that could feed at least five people. Licking her lip in anticipation at the sight of food before her, she quickly took a seat at some random table seeing that there was an empty seat and gave her thanks before she gobbled down - with some manners - to recharge her energy.

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????????? Damascean Integrated University (D.I.U) - Cafeteria


??????????? ????? @Food


???????? Get some breakfast and fill the tummy [COMPLETED]


??? ????? This is a testing BBCode post, the style may change, also, I'm still reading through everything so I haven't got her to interact with anyone yet... Feel free to poke her ;w;[/border]

 

[BauxiteMechanism]

There was a light buzz in Ross' ears as his vision blurred. Dizziness almost overcame him as he struggled to remember where he was, and what was happening. Time and space seemed to bend and twist around him, as fluorescent lights glittered right at the edges of his vision, just close enough to where he could see them, but too far away to get a good glimpse at them, before they flitted away. 'Am I dead? Is this what hell is supposed to be like?' Ross thought. That wasn't satisfying enough to him, so he decided that saying it might help. The instant he opened his mouth, harsh buzzing filled the technicolor chamber he found himself locked in. 'Perhaps it would be better if I just didn't speak' Ross' mind decided. He didn't remember thinking that, and when he tried to protest, he remembered the buzzing, so he let his mind go on a joyride. This felt wrong, like an alien was running around in his body, corrupting and controlling his mind. Minutes passed, then hours, then days, maybe even years. Like a kid in a candy store, time bent for Ross, and time seemed to break free from its linear restraints. So there he was, floating on in a sea of Christmas lights and food dye for all eternity. Of all the depictions of hell that Ross was familiar with, this was by far, the most disappointing. of them all. Then with the intensity of a concrete wall, reality hit him, and his vision cleared in an instant.


It was at that moment he had the thought that only confused students, and people that have been in a coma have had. Well, it wasn't one thought, rather several; including but not particularly limited to: "where am I?", "what did I miss?" and Ross' particular favorite, "is Reiner staring at me again?".


Ross opened his mouth to speak, remembered the buzzing, and quickly shut it again. When no buzzing seemed to occur, and Reiner was, in fact, giving him a quizzical look, Ross felt it'd be for the best to pretend that didn't just happen. He went back to the last topic that he could remember.


"Damascean royalty? Which one? Are you sure it really isn't just some guy from pretending to be both a prince from Southern Joppa, and Damasceane to scam people to make quick money?"


Ross really wanted to scream "what year is this?" but this topic seemed the most appropriate for the time being.


"I think uh... I just had some sort of migraine." He wiped his eyes as he spoke, realized that he probably hasn't blinked for about a minute.


"It feels like I've been gone for days."


Ross paused as he got the strange feeling that something was watching him, and wasn't particularly pleased with what it saw.


"Anyway, I'm starting to get tired of this place. Do you have somewhere to be, or can I hang with you for a bit?"


@GasMaskie

 

[LeonardPCollins]

creighton r. & elizabeth r.

​

Creighton

Make no mistake, Creighton was not unkind. Only weary of whom to show kindness to. He dealt with everyone in school in this manner, which resulted in a small circle of friends that he is very comfortable with. Rarely did he ask for help, and rarely was he asked, if never at all. Thank the goddess for that. The tall boy's arrogant smile, and overall laidback disposition didn't help Creighton accept his presence any more than their exchange of philosophies. But perhaps, if he were a brute, he was a smart brute, or at least regarding philosophy. His smile though, it poked at Creighton. It annoyed him just by how much it reminded him of the taller, more magically inclined students that wore the same grin behind a scowl. But he would do best not to show his disdain lest he provoke the stranger. Creighton held onto his much beloved Snowball, stroking her fine coat, to calm the beast. This is probably why he adored animals so much more than people. They were simple, honest, responsive, and safe. Safe in the sense that the trust he would invest into the animals he cared for wouldn't be betrayed just as he was so many times ago. Never more will he unwittingly walk into a relationship of any manner that he wasn't assured to hold firm.


"I still won't tell anyone, kid. You gotta hide her better though--Teenagers are rough"


Was that a warning or a threat? He could perceive it as a threat in that with knowing that he was in possession of an animal, which was against school policy. Or was it simply a piece of advice to keep it well hidden or suffer the consequences? And boy does he know that teenagers are rough. It was around the ages of his tormentors, from their teens onward depending on how quick maturity sets in and how quick their hormones subside. It was probably the fault of the latter in fellowship with Creighton's own doormat disposition that resulted in the years of torment, if he could call bullying that. But there is always a silver lining. Perhaps, he theorized, that if he were not as pushed as he was, bullied, teased, ousted, abused perhaps he wouldn't have strove as much as he did to get to where he was now, or perhaps he wouldn't have gotten as far at all. It was funny that, perhaps, after all it was not only those who helped him along the way that he should thank, but those that tested him as well. There was an old Damascean saying that sounds like The strongest blades are forged in the fires of battle. Of course it is to be taken as an allegory, not as an absolute truth. The only swords being forged in the fires of battle are broken ones, after all. Wait. He needed to focus. He shook away the thoughts he had strayed to, away from the situation he was in. Still, he was in this stranger's imposing presence.


On fate, they could agree. This talk was going much better than he had thought. He couldn't get a reading from the guy, however. He rambles a lot, or at least, it seems that way to Creighton. He's definitely a talker, the one type of person Creighton would admit to dislike other than hooligans and ruffians. He would be asked a question, but he made very little out of it so he just politely nodded his head. Oh Goddess, what if he shook his head on an agreement he didn't intend to? He just listened some more, and absorbed as much as he could from the boy. Well, you could use regret as determination, but it will always be there. He thought, but nodded in agreement. "Creighton." Now that he has stupidly said his name, he has wittingly made himself an associate with this person who he still regarded a stranger, and by extension a possible threat. Josiah was not a common name for a Damascean. He was probably a foreigner. Studying his rugged features, Creighton concluded that, from his readings on Racial Phylogeny, he might have a bit of Oneshian in him, that much was certain. The rest, he had yet to decipher. Creighton made sure not to seem like he was staring in fear of being questioned why.


Thankfully, he hasn't had enough run-ins with Oneshians in his lifetime to bear a grudge against them, and their sort of backwards ways in the mountains, and their history with Damasceane. His uncle however, would be a prime example of that racial hate for Oneshians, especially the dwarves that once enslaved the people of Damasceane. But that was two millenia ago. Letting bygones be bygones wouldn't even begin to describe the opinion of the rest of Damasceans against those who still hate Onesh. But perhaps that hate was what preserved Damasceane. Leon, the first king of Damasceane, and his people were slaves before crossing the great forests of Veneziene, tilling on Oneshian soil. In relation to what Josiah said, this determination did serve Damasceane well in becoming so much more than the rest. It was weird how Creighton saw the parallelisms between himself and his own country. Well, he supposed if he hasn't hurt him this far, it wouldn't hurt to talk to him more. He stroked Snowball's back as he spoke, "Where are you from?"


@CupAndCough

 

[GasMaskie]

Admittedly, the awkward silence and dead eyed staring was strange enough to make Reiner question what had happened. Maybe it was an allergic reaction? Or perhaps the first symptoms of some strange magical disease? Whatever the case was, it took him a few seconds to regain his train of thought before speaking up again.


"Nein, nein. And although that does sound highly specific, it also sounds like something that's unfortunately very common. A change of scenery would be nice, ja." Reiner looked around the cafeteria once more before standing up. He adjusted the old uniform's collar and dusted it off. He was still curious, so he turned and began to walk over to the lone girl who had been sitting with whom he believed to be the Damascean prince.


"I just want to confirm this before we leave Ross, it shouldn't take too long." He glanced back to his companion and spoke softly as he weaved through students who were already leaving to continue the rest of their orientation or to go explore the city. As he approached, he folded his arms and took note of the actual book she had on hand and her rather petite size. He still couldn't recognize her, although she seemed to give off the aura of nobility. If she did turn out to be one of them, he'd keep this exchange short and head out with Ross immediately. Dealing with foreign dignitaries and the snooty upper class reminded him of the parties his parents hosted.


"Entschuldigen Sie, but the young man you were sitting with was from the Damascean royal family, correct?"


@BauxiteMechanism


@nebulachan

 

[Basement Spaghetti]

With all the commotion going on and people coming and going from the cafeteria, Celine was unbroken from her concentration on getting ahead in her hardest class's reading. She pressed on for about half an hour before more of the common rabble began pouring in. Mostly unannounced to her, there was a great deal of whispering going on. Many people were beginning to notice Celine; what she wore, how she sat, how she acted, and immediately began flipping through photos on their phones. Some people stopped on a recent photo of an article belonging to a site that wrote trashy articles about foreign royalty going to the DIU, and Celine's face was plastered all over them. It was as the whispering became more loud around Celine that she looked up, around, and gave a pleasant smile and wave, before returning to reading. It was always with these Damasceans; flipping their lids the moment they saw a foreign royal. How truly sad living in Damascean must be.


It was at this point that she was approached by a strange looking man with a stranger accent. The accent sounded incredibly similar to the traditional language of the Sud, but his pronunciation of some words quickly informed her otherwise. This was not a Sud, but instead someone else speaking a similar language. She sighed, put on her fake smile, and looked up before the man spoke. "Sorry, I'm not doing any photos today." He continued without acknowledging her statement, asking about the boy. Creighton. What a sweet boy he was; one so much for the manipulating. She wondered momentarily if she could get him to fall in love with her. That would make him putty in her hands, and in a strange land for the second year, she could use pawns. Powerful ones. And the question the man asked made her conviction for the boy oh-so sweeter. She knew she had seen his face before, or at least, something similar. A Rozenburg. She knew it from the distinctive features he possessed. He looked so much like his father.


All of these thoughts flew through Celine in an instant and she returned to reality all the happier, but not giving any hints as to her true intentions. She cleared her throat. "Unfortunately, that isn't who you think it is. In fact, I had the same thought, and that was why I addressed him so... Commonly, as it were." God she hated speaking this way. But an act is an act after all, and what are we all be actors anyway? "He said his name was Brian. After checking the records briefly, I can safely say there isn't any Brian VonRozenburgs. In fact, there isn't anyway in recorded history of the VonRoseburgs with that given name." She stroked her chin in thought. "It's a shame; he could pass as a double for those people any day."

 

[GasMaskie]

"...Mmm, that so? Ah well." He walked back towards Ross, somewhat content with the the idea that he probably wouldn't have to deal with someone like that in the future since he'd be avoiding her like the plague. There was no way she'd end up assigned to the same squad, no sir. The Wyrmblut quivered slightly in his step, the way she spoke wasn't enough to fool him. If anything, it just proved to be another grim reminder of how dearly the privileged relied upon their masks to conceal their fangs.


"Anyways Ross, let's head out and explore the campus. It might help once classes actually start for the first time. I don't think that fated day where the clubs set-up stalls and start advertising to new students is today so once we're done exploring it might be nice just to head out to the city." He glanced around, briefly surprised by one girl who had enough food to host a feast.


"Hrm, Ross, you haven't heard of the Red Baron, have you?" Reiner posed the question as he opened the door and walked out. His aviators served him well as he kept the door open for his fellow classmate. As he stood against the door, he stretched out a leg and briefly allowed his tightly coiled tail to loosen up. In a way, aside from maintaining a more human appearance, keeping his tail wound up helped keep it strengthened for when he'd be up in the air. Dragoon equipment often mounted a tail extension and a fin of sorts to a Wyrmblut's tail and they often used this as a stabilizing mechanism.


@BauxiteMechanism

 

[Rantos]

Zale - Cafeteria


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/To.Aru.Majutsu.no.Index.full.840067.jpg.d9bbd42988621f158dc6e305a87e9cb5.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="96599" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/To.Aru.Majutsu.no.Index.full.840067.jpg.d9bbd42988621f158dc6e305a87e9cb5.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

The sunlight hit Zale's closed eyes, forcing him to slowly rise after a long night spent on the ground. The first night of school, and Zale elected to sleep outside, in the grass, without a blanket. A few people in the night stumbled across him, they offered to guide him to his room, he politely declined. Some other people to pass by the sleeping Zale, the older students and staff, forced him to go to his room. Zale did not resist when they pulled him up and carried him to his room. However Zale did leave his room only a minute after and found his sleeping spot outside again. Needless to say, the night on the ground was one of the bests he had spent in a while. Someone even brought him a pillow half way thought the night. But Zale forgot how to use one, so he just kind of chewed on it before falling asleep again.


But now Zale was awake and ready to face the day. He grabbed his cane that was leaning on a nearby tree and, with the pillow in hand, used the cane to get up. Now on his two feet, Zale thought about his next move. It didn't take long until the grumble from his stomach warned him of impending hunger. Zale recalled that someone made an announcement about where the cafeteria may be, but like hell he remembered. So, Zale just began walking aimlessly. It was early in the morning, so many other people were most likely going to get the morning grub as well. So Zale followed in the direction he saw the most amount of people heading in.


Zale's cane tapped on the concrete walk ways in a rhythmic fashion. It was clear by the way Zale walked that one of his legs was not disabled, both of his legs work fine. But Zale has not the physical strength or energy to support his own body for long periods of time. So Zale adopted using a cane to help support himself. Zale was extremely glad Shara convinced him to try using a cane.


This would be Zale's first time in a school of any kind. After Shara was gone, Zale wondered what he would do. Shara always wanted Zale to aim for the top, be at the highest peak possible. So Zale wondered, he searched and some how, out of sheer luck, came across this school. How much higher could one get then saving the world.


With enough aimless walking, Zale finally found himself at the cafeteria. A large mass of people were also trying to make there way into the cafeteria as well. It seemed as though if Zale wanted in, he would have to be swept along in the current of people. Zale stared down the sea of hungry teens, trying to pick the best way to aproch. In the end, Zale found it best to just dive in, he took in a large amount of air, storing some in his puffed up cheeks. Then, he entered the wave of people.


It was dark, he couldn't see but Zale knew he was moving. He felt the bodies of others, moving past him or pushing form behind. His feet moved on his own as he was too scared to stop. Zale just kept on moving, he didn't know if he was even heading in through the doors anymore as he couldn't see anything else other then the heads of many students. As Zale moved forward, he felt a separation in the crowd. He opened his eyes and gazed at the wide selection of food that lay before him. Never had he seen so much food in his life. Why Zale was so happy he practically danced into the breakfast fine, picking out one of every kind of food he could fit into his plate. When his plate was stacked a mile high with all kinds of food, Zale found himself a seat at an empty table and began to dig in.

 

[loyalwolf]

Axel - Cafeteria

Axel was sleeping peacefully in his bed, he was a very light sleeper, he was immediately awakened by his annoying alarm clock. He woke up to the blaring, unmelodic sound of random beeping. Not only did he hear the annoying beeping but he had to see the flash of obnoxious orange flash, that corresponds to the noise. He sighs and said to himself “I really should change my alarm especially if I’m planning on moving into the boy’s dorm today.” he got out of bed and headed to his shower to get ready for the day. when he got out he put on his normal outfit, not bothering to style his hair, and grabbed his phone and headphones. He then processed out of his room to the front door, where he grabbed his backpack and a violin case.


He began his walk toward the school, keeping his headphones on even though he wasn’t playing any music. As he walked his took in all the sounds around him and also all the color that came with it. it sometimes wondered how other people would handle having synesthesia, after all he enjoys it but that doesn’t mean everyone would. The walk was very short and was very boring, nothing interesting happen, which he found depressing. That when he stomach started to growl, and he laugh because he forgot to have breakfast.


He made it to the lunchroom and was amazed by the amount of food they had. He waited in line patiently, after all patience is a virtue. He grabs himself a nice amount of food and then looked around the room for a place to seat. He didn’t know anyone at the school yet so this was very awkward for him, but he figured now the prefect time to make a friend or two. He continued to look until he saw a kid seating by himself and figure this was his best chance. He walked over to the guy and pull out an empty chair and said “Excuse is this seat taken by anyone? If it isn’t would u mind me seating with you, the names Axel Reed and im a first year so I don’t really have anyone to sit with.” @Rantos

 

[Pyosimros]

Michael Snyder


Tags: @Rantos




Morning. A blessing, and a curse. If it was a day without school, Michael would relish in the comfiness of this bed and the infinite relaxation it gave him. It let him wash away all his problems, and he felt like he could just lie there for hours. With only the sounds of his soft breathing, it felt like no danger would ever reach him. In the future nor the present. However, today was sadly, not one of those days. Groaning for a few seconds, he noticed he would not take any consequences from his superiors if he just fell back asleep at this moment.


Closing his eyes, the thought, Okay. Back to sleep. He opened his eyes suddenly, going against what he just told himself, and shot straight up when he remembered something. At this moment, his sister was probably waiting for him. She always woke up an hour before the assigned time, which slightly upsets Michael. Getting up slowly, Michael took a few seconds to mentally prepare himself for the hours that will follow. Getting ready, and then eat breakfast. Those goals were what the next hour would take, and he hoped that the latter would be good. Good, is a minimum however, anything higher would be much appreciated.


With relative haste, Michael finished everything in under a few minutes. Now, it was time to walk out and get some lunch. As he stepped out of his room and headed out, he soon found himself in the middle of the hall on the way to the cafeteria. The hall was decently large in size, and it was filled. Most were heading in one direction, ahead of him. "One with the herd, I suppose," He murmurs, getting pushed to the side by a few unknown students who were still walking. These nameless people, were probably never going to be identified by Michael, which could be good for their health. After a couple more seconds of useless thinking, Michael kept walking, finally reaching the entrance of the cafeteria, where her sister was found leaning against the wall. Michael was quite surprised that she could take up a spot so close to the cafeteria, but he didn't bother pondering this. "You're late."


"I'm not late, I'm five minutes early in fact, you, however, are extremely early," Michael argued back, though he wasn't really in the mood for an annoyed tone at the moment. Now, he was in the mood to eat. Getting in line, the first thing he could see was this tower of food originating from a spot in which they don't serve food. The obvious fact that Michael took from this was that someone was hungrier than himself and his sibling combined. He decided to ignore this however, and simply waited. A couple minutes went by, and Michael was about to shove everyone over to get food. However, to his luck, he was in front of the trays. Grabbing one, the line moved, and Michael stacked some food on it. Various food items that Michael would probably like, though he only payed half of his attention to the food, and looked over at the person with the food stack.


"What is it? A girl that seems attractive to you?" Lydia asked, looking off of his shoulder, squinting her eyes for a second. Michael could already tell she didn't know who he was looking at.


"No, it's just this guy with a cane and a gigantic stack of food," Michael stated in the simplest manner as possible, and slightly pointed at the person for a few seconds before putting his hand on his side once again. Now, he had his food. Problem was, everything was in disarray. His eggs were in a cereal bowl, some bread was over his drink, and various fruit items were scattered around like stars in a night sky. Shrugging this off he felt a compulsion to sit next to that person. "Let's go meet that person."


Navigating through the people still choosing their seats, Michael finally made his way onto a seat next to the person. "Hi! I'm assuming you haven't eaten yesterday?" He smiled, getting into a relaxed position. Hopefully, the stranger would be kind, and Michael would feel lucky if he wasn't an awkward person with gluttony.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Buras stood there, looking at the girl who was in turn looking at him. He had gotten it right, that was good. But now what? The way she was looking at him made him feel like there was something more to it, let alone the way she had furiously scribbled in one of her books after seeing him. Was that normal? He didn't know, probably. So, not knowing what else to do, he stood there, food still untouched. Well, maybe not for long. He would eat it eventually, standing or otherwise, whether he was being interrogated or not.
Then the girl spoke up again, this time with a question. Where was he from? Well that was simple. He knew where he had come from. "I'm from Uros. Clan Todo." he said pridefully. And why shouldn't he be proud of where he came from? They had done well without the eastern countries, and that was something to be proud of. But they did have to accept the fact that they did need to advance, and that they would either have to keep up or die. But that's why he was here. "I am Buras Todo. Son of Narsoon, son of Falur." he continued, preemptively, 'Was that the right word?' he thought to himself, answering the question for his name. Unless they didn't do that here, then he just looked like a fool.


((@Stamper))

@Stamper

 

[animegirl20]

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​

She listen to his explanation about Illusion magic and was slightly disappointed. "Ah to bad...then again maybe it's a good thing I can't do it."


"We have a lot of ground to cover, so best we cover it up before dark."


"Mmmm? Why before dark? Isn't that when most of the fun happens?" She said as she casually put her hands behind her back. The ymade their way out the door and their first stop was the gymnasium apparently. It huge from far away but as they closer you could really tell it's size. "Whoa." She listened as Liz talked about the different clubs ad sports teams they had. "Man it's almost big as the queen's castle. She stood there for a moment looking at it then. Looked at Kuro. "You play sports?"


@LeonardPCollins


@One Mean Ghost

 

[BauxiteMechanism]

"Red Baron? Which one? There's at least two every decade. You know, dresses up in his finest red jammies, spray-paints a crimson skull onto a rickety scramjet, and takes potshots at commercial flights until he gets shot down for being an aeropirate."


Ross walked through the door just as Reiner had let go of it. He briefly considered holding it open for the girl behind him, but her head was buried into her phone, and that could take ages, so he just let it close, hoping she walked just slow enough to avoid a transparent, glassy surprise. Resuming walking behind Reiner, as it became obvious that out of the two of them, only one had a sense of direction, Ross continued to bang on about aeroplanes.


"Anyway, I've got the feeling that you're about to tell me something really important about the real Red Baron. Like he's your dad or something or-" Ross grows quiet, and and his mouth goes agape as the thousand-meter stare overcomes his eyes.


"You're the Red Baron..."


Ross can't keep the look for more than two second before his face melts into a huge grin.


"Okay, not likely, I know. But's it's fun to think about! Imagine the recognition, 'Reiner-The Red Baron strikes again! Millions in fear!'. That'd be kinda cool!"


@GasMaskie

 

[CupAndCough]

Josiah Weyland : The Strife Brought-Passion-Filled Bastard Summoner

​

[The Voice of The Raging Heart | Location: Roof] : Josiah was at least a content the boy did not leave his side. At the moment for nothing seemed too bad of situation. Sure, he had to worry about scaring off the smaller boy, but nothing too erratic, it was the atmosphere that really took Josiah somewhere. The slight buzz and scent of booze off his own breath. Being able to release some steam off to the boy in the way of words. Something he rarely did. He had very little in way of trouble, it felt uplifting--if not a little embarassing. It was silent enough here, and in some strange way he could easily discuss the idea of fate and decisions--even if he just went with the flow. Josiah's gaze turned elsewhere into the horizon, not knowing what exactly to say next. As he Looked toward the horizon for more answers, silence happened once more atop the roof. The absence of sound outside left Josiah time for some internal critical thought. Unfortunately Josiah had long forgotten the consequence of such avid "thinking" and to who exactly was listening to these thoughts with such a focused, crystalline, looking glass--peering into the top layer of thought. Josiah had long forgotten about his avid ease-dropper.


Seems the idea of fate held resonance for both of them, but Josiah had not question exactly 'why' he was doing this. As if he was being slightly dictated to go about and chat. To search for lonesome or at least make due with what was strictly apparent in seclusion.


As Josiah looked to the boy, he analyzed him further. It seemed that, to Josiah at least, Creighton never actually seen a brutal combat situation in his life. Never dealt with some as horrible abominations from a rift or mending the guts and sinew on a cold medical table. He felt pity for him. Josiah took himself back realizing that he had not had the most clean and natural childhood. Josiah still saw Creighton as a boy, he could tell that he was a bit broken from the life he may have had, however it made him fearful.


It struck something with Josiah and his nature to help, his mom rubbed off on him like that with her bringing her work "home". She was a natural caretaker and generally nice person to be around, she was everything you actually needed in a mother. Attentive when she had the chance and always smiling. As he nestled himself in these thought he soon felt obligated to exactly pity the boy as a caretaker would see a patient--Feeling some sense of concern.


"Creighton" (Creighton). The name made his ears perk, at least he was still responding. Wonderful. Still it was one word, but he couldn't complain for the response. "Sounds strong, a bit intimidating to be honest." He chuckled as he looked towards the boy, wondering if he could fill those shoes. He wondered what kind of magic that boy brought to this school. It felt something he should not ask so openly. Especially in the flow of their conversation


"Where you from?" (Creighton), The idea of loyalties to a nation perplexed Josiah, but this wasn't exactly the question. Where was he from? Should he say he was born in Oneshian? Should he just say Damasceane? The nationalism in Damasceane. was intolerable for their actions, but accepting that he was from Oneshian would lead to social suicide. However he felt pride in that heritage, he felt driven by it somewhat.


"I am from Manor Weyland. We aren't royals, however we do have a pulse on the cybernetics and the medical world." He rubbed his nose, faking his pride. He chose not to say his heritage, his eyes shifted as he answered the question. ]"That Manor is...uh, not the nicest place for a kid to grow up. Get picked on a bit, I was never like them so it was hard to uh...get along." Josiah nervously rubbed his arm a bit, he thought back on how he was teased and picked on at the manor for being lame, for him not being able to use legs. I did not help Josiah hailed from a bastard heritage, his father never actually marrying his mothers . It wasn't long before the boy lashed out and snapped. People either coddle you or attempt to appease you in power. When Josiah took the eldest of the Weyland Family's son and broke him, he was to be avoided or appeased.


Josiah was fine either, for a while...


]"Guess I don't really look the most easy to get along with, ya know? Must be really straining yourself not to run from a brute like me, ya know?" He asked openly, ]"Not that I don't mind--I look like this for a reason, but you either get tougher by the punishment or get weaker. I chose not to leave myself to fate." Josiah smiled a weak smile, looking to his open hand for solace. Only to have it clench into a fist, bundled with a bit of rage and animosity. "So you a freshman? I just got here an' all. Dunno how much is run by who and who's the big guy on campus. I'm always down for a fight with a d-bag" He laughed at the thought of ending some bully's career

no slide

quotes

@LeonardPCollins

​

 

[GasMaskie]

"Ja, it would be. But no, I'm just his favored successor at the moment. Even so, I've still got a long way to go before I inherit my Opa's notorious legacy." Reiner wrung his hands as he strolled through the large expanses between buildings that were apparently referred to as 'quads' in this country. The Wyrmblut chuckled slightly, amused by the thought of mere aeropirates running around playing pretend with the old ace's title.


There were still a few people sprawled out on the grass relaxing, although it didn't seem as filled as it should be. He took a deep breath before settling down on a bench by the sidewalk. A pleasant smell wafted into his nostrils, a blend of the freshly cut grass and the distant smell of the cafeteria's food. The amount of greenery in this land was something that he'd be unable to find up on the peaks of Edelhut, although there was no way he'd ever trade in the amazing views from the top. The Wyrmblut leaned his head back and basked his face in the sunlight for a few moments before turning to Ross.


"Mmm, you're not related to some infamous bomb-maker though, are you? You have mentioned your hobby a few times." As far as Reiner was concerned, Ross would make for a good friend to last him for the time he'd be spending here whether or not he was actually some crown prince or just a normal guy. Still, there was something gnawing at his mind - perhaps he was hiding some great secret or perhaps some unusual talent. Or perhaps this was just part of the mindset that Reiner had grown up with - one of doubt and a desire to dig under someone's surface.


@BauxiteMechanism

 

[Rantos]

Zale - Cafeteria


It was pure bliss, no. It was a Heaven on Earth, no. It was Heaven! Never before had Zale partook in such a glamorous feast for both the eyes and stomach before! Every bite, every sip, every time anything touched his tongue delectable flavor, that of which Zale had never had the pleasure of knowing, simply erupted onto his taste buds. Stimulating every nook and corner in Zale's mouth to a degree that Zale had previously thought unimaginable. True euphoria.


Unbeknownst to Zale, he was looking like a total pig. This is was also one of the first times in a while Zale has had the option to eat his food with forks and spoons and knifes, Zale elected to eat his food with his hands. His side of the table was a mess. More then a mess even, it looked as if a pig came by, sloshed around in Zale's food, then left without so much as a goodbye. But Zale couldn't stop. He didn't care what others thought of him, he wanted to just eat the cafeteria out of food. Zale's gaze was fixated, his mind blank with only the thought of food. At least until he heard the voice of another human.


The boy asked if he could sit down, Zale nodded yes, then began to swallow the mouth full of food he had. The boy said his name and then something about being a "first year" and honestly, Zale had no idea what that meant. As soon as Zale finished the last of what was in his mouth, he looked over at the boy. "Yo. Nice to meet cha Reed. Names Zale Bones. If ya ever seen an empty spot next to me feel free to stop by and sit down."


As Zale shoved another unknown article of food in his mouth another person seemed to step on by. Zale waved to the newcomer and tried to swallow his food as fast as he could. Which resulted in a bit of choking, followed by a violent coughing fit, and finally a few pieces of food flying onto the table. "Ill eat those later. Sup! New person, names Zale, Zale Bones. I can't remember but I think it's been a week since my last full meal. You two talk while I finish up, make friendly friends." With that, Zale again started to eat his food in a sloppy manor, accompanied by an occasional grunt of happiness.


@Pyosimros @loyalwolf