RE: The Opulent Quarrel - Round One: Mademoiselle Primfel's
01-10-2016, 11:10 PM
Alex popped back into existence five feet above a bunk, which held up surprisingly well against her best impression of a defenestrated anvil. Most furniture wasn’t usually so gracious. After pulling herself out of the—reinforced steel, interesting—'bed' into the room proper, she took stock.
Second fuckin’ crime wizard of the day? Check.
Gear? Nope.
Team? Nope.
Situation? FUBAR.
… School… uniform…… check…?
She rummaged through her new outfit’s pockets to find a lightly crushed schedule labelled ‘Althyr Almael – Constructs Dorm’. Deliberately ignoring the untoward name, her vision was immediately drawn to the last class: Marksmanship with a ‘Madam Puska’. Most of a day away, if the clock on the wall was correct. She’d probably have to play along until then.
As for now… calculus? Literary analysis? Ugh.
She quickly appropriated the schedule sitting on the undisturbed bunk opposite her own. Now this was more like it. Horsemanship, geology…
Diplomacy? Can’t all be winners.
Whoever Retrowirx Studio-waytoolongname was, they surely wouldn’t mind Alex skillfully acquiring their schedule for the day. Grabbing the backpack lying by her bunk Alex dashed out into the hallway—and straight into a decidedly flinty ten-foot tall golem.
“Eager to get to class, are we?”
“Uh, well…”
“Just what I like to see from my dorm’s freshers” the voice rumbled on heedlessly, “but remember, running between classes is five demerits. Please keep it to a light jog.”
“Roger, uh…”
“Oh, apologies. I am Savta, Construct’s prefect. You are… Alex? Part of the late intake this week?”
Alex, still stunned by the intimidating-yet-polite figure, defaulted to nodding in response.
“I would give you a tour of the dorm, but first bell is in a few minutes. If you would like, come to me during lunch break for one. You will find me in the common room. Now, I won’t keep you any longer – tardiness is a demerit for every minute you’re late, after all.”
“Right. Sounds good. Thanks.” Alex turned and ra— jogged towards the exit. Had she just signed up for a dorm tour? She had better things to be doing, damn it. Golems just… ugh, no point dredging that up now. Back on track. Horsemanship. She headed out of the nigh-empty building into the Academie grounds proper and caught sight of the main structure, which garnered a teakettle-worthy whistle.
This place was big. It stood roof and cornice over any castle back on earth proper, and beat out most of them in architectural ambition. Despite its sheer scale ornamentation was sparse and subdued, presumably modelling the Academie’s guiding principles of modesty, restraint and order. As for the grounds themselves, regimented paths, trees and ponds provided an honor guard for flawless lawns. The grass stretched an absurd distance before terminating sharply at a fence whose spikes were (perhaps unsurprisingly) pointed inwards. Next to it a band of lawn several dozen yards wide stood entirely clear, analogous to a fortification’s killing zone.
She tore herself away from the scenery to take a look at a nearby standing map of the campus, the kind you’d find at any self-respecting institution. The meeting place for horsemanship stood on the opposite side of the Academie proper, necessitating a brisk jog if Alex didn’t want to be late. She set out at pace, more out of interest in riding than any sense of obligation towards Mlle. Primfel’s regulations. Her shell was too heavy for any earth-based horse to support, but dimensional travel was supposed to involve some weird shit.
The pathways around the grounds were efficiently placed, leading Alex directly to her destination without the fuss of navigating innumerable halls. While the ‘Do Not Step On Grass’ signs festooning their edges at regular intervals were definitely inviting, tempting fate would have to wait. While this Madam Ascot probably wasn’t going to tack on (pointless) pushups to punish tardiness, she’d sat through enough instructors’ reprimands for it back in Quantico to develop a modicum of punctuality.
Alex arrived at the courtyard’s wide entrance with half a minute to spare. The sound of raised voices filtered through its large wooden doors. She slipped inside to find a crowd of girls blocking the way, first bell hardly audible on account of the commotion. Students hovered between the doorway and the courtyard proper in the state of thrilled trepidation common to those witnessing an unauthorized challenge to authority.
Second fuckin’ crime wizard of the day? Check.
Gear? Nope.
Team? Nope.
Situation? FUBAR.
… School… uniform…… check…?
She rummaged through her new outfit’s pockets to find a lightly crushed schedule labelled ‘Althyr Almael – Constructs Dorm’. Deliberately ignoring the untoward name, her vision was immediately drawn to the last class: Marksmanship with a ‘Madam Puska’. Most of a day away, if the clock on the wall was correct. She’d probably have to play along until then.
As for now… calculus? Literary analysis? Ugh.
She quickly appropriated the schedule sitting on the undisturbed bunk opposite her own. Now this was more like it. Horsemanship, geology…
Diplomacy? Can’t all be winners.
Whoever Retrowirx Studio-waytoolongname was, they surely wouldn’t mind Alex skillfully acquiring their schedule for the day. Grabbing the backpack lying by her bunk Alex dashed out into the hallway—and straight into a decidedly flinty ten-foot tall golem.
“Eager to get to class, are we?”
“Uh, well…”
“Just what I like to see from my dorm’s freshers” the voice rumbled on heedlessly, “but remember, running between classes is five demerits. Please keep it to a light jog.”
“Roger, uh…”
“Oh, apologies. I am Savta, Construct’s prefect. You are… Alex? Part of the late intake this week?”
Alex, still stunned by the intimidating-yet-polite figure, defaulted to nodding in response.
“I would give you a tour of the dorm, but first bell is in a few minutes. If you would like, come to me during lunch break for one. You will find me in the common room. Now, I won’t keep you any longer – tardiness is a demerit for every minute you’re late, after all.”
“Right. Sounds good. Thanks.” Alex turned and ra— jogged towards the exit. Had she just signed up for a dorm tour? She had better things to be doing, damn it. Golems just… ugh, no point dredging that up now. Back on track. Horsemanship. She headed out of the nigh-empty building into the Academie grounds proper and caught sight of the main structure, which garnered a teakettle-worthy whistle.
This place was big. It stood roof and cornice over any castle back on earth proper, and beat out most of them in architectural ambition. Despite its sheer scale ornamentation was sparse and subdued, presumably modelling the Academie’s guiding principles of modesty, restraint and order. As for the grounds themselves, regimented paths, trees and ponds provided an honor guard for flawless lawns. The grass stretched an absurd distance before terminating sharply at a fence whose spikes were (perhaps unsurprisingly) pointed inwards. Next to it a band of lawn several dozen yards wide stood entirely clear, analogous to a fortification’s killing zone.
She tore herself away from the scenery to take a look at a nearby standing map of the campus, the kind you’d find at any self-respecting institution. The meeting place for horsemanship stood on the opposite side of the Academie proper, necessitating a brisk jog if Alex didn’t want to be late. She set out at pace, more out of interest in riding than any sense of obligation towards Mlle. Primfel’s regulations. Her shell was too heavy for any earth-based horse to support, but dimensional travel was supposed to involve some weird shit.
The pathways around the grounds were efficiently placed, leading Alex directly to her destination without the fuss of navigating innumerable halls. While the ‘Do Not Step On Grass’ signs festooning their edges at regular intervals were definitely inviting, tempting fate would have to wait. While this Madam Ascot probably wasn’t going to tack on (pointless) pushups to punish tardiness, she’d sat through enough instructors’ reprimands for it back in Quantico to develop a modicum of punctuality.
Alex arrived at the courtyard’s wide entrance with half a minute to spare. The sound of raised voices filtered through its large wooden doors. She slipped inside to find a crowd of girls blocking the way, first bell hardly audible on account of the commotion. Students hovered between the doorway and the courtyard proper in the state of thrilled trepidation common to those witnessing an unauthorized challenge to authority.