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Posted: Mon May 08, 2006 10:18 am
The White District is composed of the school, and ends at the School's outer walls. The school itself contains an auditorium and an eating hall at its centre, and classrooms that ring out from there, seperated by the Professor's rooms and then surrounded by the dormitories. In the outermost section of the school are the buildings that connect the school with the outer-lying districts of the Green, Red, Blue and Black Districts. The Stage Zeros are forbidden to exit these outer buildings, and can be tried in front of the Chorus for breaking this rule. The buildings that border the White District with the other colour districts are: the Library leading to the Black District, the Arena leading to the Red District, the Pool and Music Hall leading to the Blue District and the Flora Gardens leading to the Green District. The Classes are held generally in the classrooms, but certain classes are taught in the rooms provided for them. For instance, Physical Education generally takes place in the Arena when duels are not in progress, or in the pool, when music lessons are not in progress. Botany lessons happen in the Flora Gardens when hands-on classes are required. Study and research for papers is done in the Library both in and outside of class time. Certain events, such as duels and performances can be attended and witnessed by Stage Zeros, although most professors will make you write a paper regarding your experiences if you miss class time to do so. The School Year Some people have asked about the timeline. So here's a little explanation of the school curriculum. A school year runs through a set of the 16 classes. These classes are set in blocks of three, between which there is a free Period. A single class will run daily for a period of a couple weeks, the evenings allowed for the student to eat in the cafeteria, and rest their nights. After the block of three classes finishes, the Empyreans are given a period of two weeks of Free Period, in which they can practise what they have learned, complete homework, borrow reference books to learn more about the subjects they have studied, and relax with friends. Then it's back to the next 3-course block. When a student has completed one School Year, that is to say 16 classes, he is allowed to advance. For other criteria see the Empyreans thread. To make up missed classes, please head to the Teacher's Lounge in your Free Periods to make up missed schoolwork with private lessons from the Professors. The Current School Year Rotation began with Dameron, and so looks as follows: 1. Dameron's Literature Class 2. Kortus's Crafting Class 3. Melonia's Rhetoric Class First Free Period 4. Tryna's Cooking Class 5. Elias' Astronomy Class 6. Orrys' Physical Education Class Second Free Period 7. Bardane's Law Class 8. Raelyn's Art Class 9. Paxar's Mathematics Class Third Free Period 10. Eleuthero's Philosophy Class 11. Quenda's Botany Class 12. Tamerind's History Class Fourth Free Period 13. Lelaus' Animal Care Class 14. Abrid's Science Class 15. Nehna's Music Class Fifth Free Period 16. Bellona's Magical Theory Class (You are currently Here) (Graduation Exams for the First round of students) 1. Dameron's Literature Class 2. Kortus' Crafting Class... (Etc.) School is Currently in Bellona's Magical Theory Class. (Up Next: Dameron's Literature Class, Kortus's Crafting Class and Melonia's Rhetoric Class.) The Opening ScenarioWhen a child is brought into the city, fused with Essence and made into a Stage Zero Empyrean, the RP begins... Children are fused between 7-10 years of age, and physically still appear to be in this age bracket. But the fusing of Essence changes more than skin tone and Alignment... The Mind matures considerably, giving the youth an intelligence of a 20-year-old or University level, in both speech capacity, reading comprehension, problem-solving and maturity. In curiosity, learning-curve and innocence, they are still much like children, mostly because of the effects of Essence on the brain, and the lack of knowledge provided them at the outset. While the teachers do their best to answer questions, there are some fact not allowed to be divulged to Stage Zeros, and their official answer in these circumstances is "You are but a Stage Zero yet. Ask when you've transcended." You may start your RP when you have a thread set up for you, and the point at which your Empyrean begins is when your child faces its first day of class. While this is your Empyrean's first day awake and about in the City, they awake with a complete sense of belonging, in that they known instinctually that this is home. The state of mind is one of bewilderment or confusion, but without the paranoia or panic that accompanies amnesia. Through the binding of Essence, the Empyrean Stage Zeros lose all memory of their former life but not their former learned knowledge like language or grammar. They do not possess any curiosity for what came before, merely a puzzlement as to why they can't remember what they did before today. This curiosity is usually muted or overruled by curiosity for all the things around them, and all the things there are to see and do in the school. There are students in the classes and in the school that have been there for a term or two before your arrival. Think of these students as upper classmen, and they can be NPCd as you require. There are also several other students that are new and fresh like you are, feel free to NPC these if they do not have players, and interact with those that do. If at any point you have a question regarding the nature of the school, its appearance, the location of its classrooms, the way the courses are run or the school organized, please ask me out of character in the Discussion thread. If at any time your Empyrean (or you) has questions about things like class material, magic, fighting, the Professors, the world, monsters, or anything else that you might want to learn, please address the Teacher that teaches that subject in character in the Teacher's Lounge thread. (If you don't know which teacher governs that subject, just ask the question, and the profs (NPCd by myself) will answer your queries). Happy Playing!!
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Posted: Fri May 26, 2006 12:34 am
The hallway was well lit from the technomagus orbs afixed on the ceiling above the milling students and teachers. The Empyrean students moved about the halls heading to their classes, and teachers milled between classes, offices and the teacher's lounge. A lone student dressed in slate grey, and bearing the Digamma Ouroboros on his shoulder stood in the hall in the frame of a door. Behind him, his impecable dorm room could be barely glimpsed through the ajar door. Grave shifted his weight and took a level look at the hallway before him, eyes overwhelmed by the sea of colours from bright to dull. These people were no more than a mosaic to him, he knew no names and he recognized no faces. He tried to think. He could recall that he ad known things before this, but it was as if the memories no longer lingered in his brain. When Grave tried to comprehend a time before this place, this room, he drew a blank. He felt nothing, no longing for the memory, no anxiety over the loss of whatever had been before. This was his world, his home. He knew it, comprehended it, and yet he had no memories of this place to connect to it. Grave frowned very slightly and calculated the movement of a group of students talking together excitedly. The three girls were all coloured bright oranges and reds and yellows, and they chattered to one another, heads bowed together, faces bright. Grave slipped into the traffic of the hall seemlessly, closing his door in a swift silent movement as he joined the flow. He followed the golden group before him and made mental notes as they effortlessly followed corridors and entered archways. The group of giggling girls entered a classroom and found their seats near the front of the class. Grave froze at the door and looked around the room. A few seats were filled, mostly near the front of the room, but most of the pews and ledges still sat empty. Grave picked his way down the isle and found an empty row near the front of the class. He sat down and glanced at the students around him, and mimicked their actions. He drew a book out of the wooden pocket crafted to the back of the pew before him like the others did. He glanced at its title, The War of Lerajes and opened the bound cover, as the others did. He glanced over a few lines of its text and found he could read it easily. He glanced up at the others and saw they were examining their books, talking with their neighbours or staring at the door expectantly. Grave flipped forward and stopped when he reached a painted illumination. It showed a handsome man with Melancholy features and ornate dark armour drawing a bowstring. The caption read The Lord Lerajes strikes fear into the masses with arrows of fire, plague and madness. Grave closed the book on the ledge before him and turned his eyes to the door instead. It seemed the other students were waiting for something. Grave decided to wait also.
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Posted: Fri May 26, 2006 9:28 am
Amelia was nervous. She'd been rethinking her potential day over and over, running it through her mind again and again. She wasn't quite sure how she'd gotten here, but somehow, it felt like she belonged. She walked out of her dorm room, which looked as if it had been newly redecorated, and into the crowded hallway, which was streaming with other kids about her age. Some looked to have friends already, and though usually Amelia would feel awkward about being all alone and knowing no one, she stoned herself for the time being, sure she would meet at least one person.
Heading toward the classroom where her first lesson would begin, she stopped in the doorway, searching for a seat. Most were up front, and though Amelia didn't usually like to stand out, she decided to make use of one of the empty chairs.
Plopping down next to a young man with dark blue hair and lavender skin, she pulled the same book out from behind the seat in front of her, leafing through it's pages. "Good morning," she said, smiling shyly at the boy. "I'm Amelia. I think I'm new around here," she said, feeling a bit uncertain.
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Posted: Fri May 26, 2006 5:46 pm
Grave took his clear blue eyes away from the door and slowly let them settle on the pale girl who'd taken a seat next to him. He offered a distant and polite smile and watched her steadily. "Hello." The one word was all he offered at first, his smooth voice cool and confident. He turned his attention back to the door, and seeing still nothing but students trickling in turned to face the front of the class. "It is my first day too." He glanced at the girl again, almost as if to see if he could see anything about her that differentiated her from the students who already seemed at home. White hair, icy blue skin...his eyes scanned her clothing quickly, picking out the rings on her clothing that aside from colour looked like those on his own clothing. On the girl's skirt was an image of a snake biting its own tail. Ouroboros... The word sprang into his head, familiar and attached itself to other terms that he seemed to know, but had no memory of association before. Phlegmatic...Academic...Empyrean... "You're a Phlegmatic aren't you? I'm Melancholic." He said to her, his slender fingers moving over the cover of the book in his hands smoothly. Grave's attention was distracted then, when he heard the sound of girls squealing, and boys whispering excitedly under his breath. He snapped his head over his shoulder to catch sight of a tall and slender Empyrean enter the classroom. His skin was deepest indigo, nearly black, his hair was silver fading to blue, a small pair of spectacles balanced on his nose. The man's strange features seemed in no way out of place, such as the long silver horns sprouting from his forhead, the single leathery wing flexing subtly behind him as he walked, his nose in a book. Grave saw the other students stare after the man with dreaming eyes, sighs and whispers and felt his own breath catch in his throat as the man passed, graceful and steady, a whiff of his delicate scent reaching Grave's nostrils. He shook his head to clear his thoughts of this Empyrean and caught sight of the long and ornate silver sword hanging from the man's hip and pondered on why he'd not seen anyone else with such an item. When the man reached the front of the class he turned smoothly and continued to read. Almost by instinct the class began to settle down, and gradually grew quiet. As the last bit of whispering died down, Grave whispered to his classmate, "I'm Grave." And then he turned both eyes and head forward and sat up straight, eager to hear the alluring man speak. The man snapped his book closed and looked up at the class. "Good Morning, Zeros. I am Dameron, for those that don't know, your Literature teacher. Welcome to the first class of term."
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Posted: Fri May 26, 2006 6:39 pm
Amelia was a bit unnerved by the boy's quiet and calm demeanor. He was so unlike all the other students who were running around, tittering about this or that. He seemed quite comfortable in his surroundings, even though it was his first day as well. "Well, you certainly seem like you know what you're doing," she asked, shifting in her seat, her cheeks slowly turning a darker shade of blue. "I'm surprised you've not been here before." She looked down to her hands in her lap and let out a nervous laugh.
"Yeah, I'm a Phlegmatic...Academic. Are you an Academic as well?" Her questioning time was cut short as everyone turned to watch the silver and blue haired man walk down the main aisle. He was quite majestic looking really, and had an air of grace that she'd never come across before. The professor--Professor Dameron--must be a Melancholic as well--just like the boy sitting next to her now.
She watched as the man neared the front of the room and continued to read. It was quite amazing to see the class quiet down fairly quickly, and Amelia opened her book once again, waiting to see where they would begin.
She looked over to the boy as he whispered to her. "Nice to meet you Grave," she nodded and gave him another small smile, then sat toward the front once again. Now, it was time to learn, not socialize.
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Posted: Fri May 26, 2006 10:12 pm
Grave's manner was alert when the teacher continued speaking, and he held his book ready, one hand poised on the front cover, ready to open it, to turn to any page required, to read, to learn to understand more of what was going on. "You seem to know what you're doing..." The Phlegmatic girl had said. Not in the least. He was keeping his composure by keeping his senses occupied, taking in every detail in the hopes that things would become clearer, or some memory would arise and everything would be settled. The teacher spoke. "Today, our lesson is regarding the tale of Lerajes. While Lelaus may paint a different picture in his class - fanciful and colourful and filled with monstrosities and horror...this is not his class." Dameron's voice held a note of absolute authority, though his tone did not rise, and his voice remained quite mellow. "While the story-telling of the war is quite beautiful, the actual composition of facts will not be important until later lessons. For now I want you all to focus on the use of passive and active sentances. As Professoras Melonia and Bellona will no doubt inform you, the difference between a Passive and Active sentance can alter entirely the strength and direction of magic." Dameron paused and his eyes swept over the room, calculating and reserved. Then, swiftly he turned, and his wing stretched and fluttered before folding in tightly to his back like a bird unsettled. The leather appendage folded and lined up with a long row of stud spikes that erupted from Dameron's spine. Grave unconsciously began to count the spikes, intrigued. Dameron paced across the front of the room. "Take out your quill and a sheet of paper, everyone." The class erupted into a bustle and scrape as students drew quills from the rings on their clothing, or out of bags or pockets. Grave blanched and let his eyes sweep over the room. He did not have his supplies with him. To his great relief many other students in the room were sitting dumbly as he was, staring forward with empty hands and crest-fallen faces. Without looking up at the students, Dameron called out clearly: "If you did not bring your Quill and paper with you to class, there are spare supplies in the pockets before you. Remember, for next time." There was a quiet, nearly cold note in Dameron's voice as he added his last comment and turned back to the class. Grave felt his cheeks heat a little and felt a sting in his chest. Disappointing his teacher already... Quietly Grave reached forward and drew out a ratty-looking quill, a few sheets of looseleaf and a bottle of ink. "Here," He said to Amelia. "Do you need some paper?"
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Posted: Sat May 27, 2006 6:38 am
Amelia listened intently to Professor Dameron, taking in his every word. Active and passive sentences? This would be important to know if she wanted to further her spells and abilities.
She took note of the professor's single wing and row of back spikes, wondering if they were simply growths of this spine, or if they were extra appendages. She'd never seen anyone quite like him, and just watching him take command of the room was entertainment enough for Amelia. He didn't have to rule the class with an iron fist--they already respected him, and looked as if they even feared him almost.
"Oh, that's okay," she said to Grave, who was now pulling out the school's quill, ink and parchment. "I brought my own," she continued, reaching into her bag and pulling out her notebook that was to be used for school notes. It was a light blue, paper-covered book that looked much like a book one would use to take a college exam in, but much thicker-the size of a regular notebook. "Did you need anything?" she asked, trying to be friendly and helpful.
She pulled a quill and inkpot from her bag as well. The quill was white, with a spot of black at the tip of the feather. She set the inkpot on the desk and removed the lid, then opened her notebook and dipped the quill into the ink, prepared to write.
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Posted: Sat May 27, 2006 2:36 pm
Grave tightened his lips a little when the girl next to him pulled out her own school supplies. He caught sight of the book, and a memory entered his head of a reddish coil-bound book. He knew he'd left it on the desk in his room. Well, looseleaf would need to do for now. He lifted the bright green feathered quill in his hands and wrinkled his nose for a split-second at the ugly contrast it made on his pale skin. He unscrewed the lid of the inkwell and saw a brownish-red ink. Lovely. Grave turned his thoughts away from these hand-me-down supplies and looked up to the professor, waiting for information, ready to distract himself with the handsome Empyrean's words. "Let's read from chapter 4, page 47, paragraph 6." Dameron put his tome down on the desk and lifted a worn school copy, flipping it easily to the required page. Grave noticed that Dameron's hand never broke contact with his book which lay in stark contrast on the wooden desk, shiny and oiled. Dameron's eyes swept cooly over the classroom and he began to read. "'Leraje drew from his guilded quiver an arrow of the foulest nature and drew back on his bowstring as the choirs of the monster howled from on high. With a mighty cry unto the heavens, the mighty Archer released that foulest of bowstrings and let fly the arrow into the enemy ranks. It its solemn arc, the shaft split into fragments in midflight and an ominous glow filled the air. "With thy divine wrath, O Mighty Belial, smite these enemies of mine! Take unto thy legions their unworthy souls!" Leraje cried out, full of madness and zeal.'" Dameron paused and stared intently at the class, watching them. Grave felt his skin prickle, shivers washing over him as in his mind he watched the story unfolding. Grave was barely aware of the sound of Dameron's voice fading into the words and the story itself taking precedence, consuming Grave's imagination where the past re-enacted in brutal colour and rich scent and deafening sound. As soon as Dameron stopped speaking, the room grew still. The images faded and Grave was left sitting stock-still and quieted. His breathing felt shallow. His hands felt clammy. In that moment, Grave understood fear.
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Posted: Sun May 28, 2006 5:30 pm
Amelia flipped her book open, ready to receive any and all knowledge that Dameron could impart on her. She had a thirst for education--to receive information and pack it into her brain.
Turning to the proper page, she read along as Dameron described Leraje's arrow, full of smiting power. A shiver ran up her spine as well as the poignant words rolled from his tongue. He was an excellent storyteller, she thought as she imagined the war-torn fields of an Empyrean that she'd never seen. He made every detail seem important to remember, and Amelia made sure to write down the most important passages as he read them, wanting to commit them to memory. She would need to know about the history of their land, she was sure.
Amelia glanced up at Dameron wide-eyed as he described the rest of the story, pausing for what seemed to be dramatic effect. She looked over at Grave, who seemed to be taking the passage more seriously than even she did. He looked awfully uncomfortable, she thought, and she reached out with her hand and patted the top of his, hoping that he'd stop looking as if he was ill. "Are you okay?" she asked him in a whisper.
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Posted: Sun May 28, 2006 10:15 pm
Mathiaz yawned and stretched lazily. He'd woken up a few minutes ago feeling as if he should be ... somewhere. But he ignored that for the moment, taking the time to look around. He was pretty sure he'd never seen this place before in his life, but at the same time, he knew that he lived here. This was ... his dorm room. Ah. So he was in some kinda school. He made a face, as he didn't particularly like school.
Hm. So the place he was supposed to be must be a class of some sort. He finally sighed and rolled off the bed. He picked out clothes at random, though everything pretty much matched since it was same colors ... just different patterns. Running a hand through his hair, he headed out the door, snagging the strap of a slightly beaten and worn bag automatically on his way out.
There wasn't much of anyone in the halls ... which meant he really must be late. Ah, well. This was his first day here, he could probably blame it on that. Or something. Mumbling to himself, he wandered down the halls, eyeing the doors lining them. But he didn't actually go -into- any, as he wasn't sure where this class he was supposed to be in was.
But then he heard the sound of someone reading from behind one of the doors. He paused, listening. A war story? Well, that was interesting. He grinned and opened the door, going in and sitting in the first empty seat he could find. He glanced around, seeing more people ... probably also students. And they all had books ... hm. He soon found one though, in the pew in front of him. He plucked it out and opened it, but more to look as if he was paying attention than actually out of a desire to read it.
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Posted: Mon May 29, 2006 8:07 am
When the girl's hand touched his, Grave started, nearly jumping a mile. The spell of words Dameron had spun broke in that contact, the images faded completely and Grave was suddenly painfull aware of his surroundings. He blinked his clear eyes a few times to gain his bearings and swallowed. "Yes, thank you...I'm fine." Grave whispered softly under his breath. He offered a small smile and ran his hand through his hair. He was unnerved still, but fighting the feeling. Having someone near that could ground him to the real, and not let his active mind run away with him was comforting, even if he didn't know her well. He offered another small smile and furiously began writing down notes. "Good Morning, Mathiaz," Dameron's voice rang out clear over the class. "How nice fo you to join us. I only hope your dreams were as educational." Dameron stood in front of the desk at the front of the class, the school book held limply at his side, his hand firmly perched on his personal tome. The professor's head was held high and he was staring intently at one of the students. Grave followed the lnie of his gaze and caught sight of a Sanguine male. Late on the first day. Grave felt a small twang of pity. He may have forgotten his supplies, but at least he was on time. Grave turned his eyes back to the professor. What will he do? Grave wondered, in awe.
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Posted: Mon May 29, 2006 11:12 pm
He shrugged one shoulder, appearing unconcerned at his late arrival. "Sorry, I wouldn't know if they were or not," he answered a bit flippantly, leaning back in his seat. He'd glanced around a bit at the other students as he came in and now noticed several of them looking around at him.
He looked right back, raising a brow at a few in particular that seemed to be rebuking him silently. It wasn't their business what he did with his time, after all. Geez.
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Posted: Tue May 30, 2006 6:59 am
Grave briefly locked eyes with the Sanguine called 'Mathiaz' and hastily bent over his papers. He looked over his notes. Rhythm and cadence affect words to make them hold power over the listener. Perhaps certain sounds have more power than others? Will look for patterns. Grave tapped his borrowed quill on the paper. What else had he noticed? His attention was stolen back to Dameron when the Professor started speaking to the whole of the class again. "The previous passage demonstrated an Active reading. Active sentances, in other words, when the doer of the action precedes the verb, have direct power on their subject. For instance, 'Lelaus fed the beast.' This order of words gives precedence and power to the nominative - the actor - Lelaus. If I was to say, 'The beast was fed by Lelaus.' Where would the power lie?" Dameron asked to the class. Grave could not tell if the question was rhetorical or not. The nuances of the teacher's voice were so subdued he was having difficulty differentiating between intentions and having even more difficulty picking up emotion. Grave scribbled down some notes as a girl in the pew to their left raised her hand. Dameron nodded for her to speak. "The power would lie with the beast. Meaning it would enhance the healing the beast would receive from being fed." The girl said, assured of her answer. Dameron nodded. "Precisely. We can use an Active wording to direct a result - whether it be good or bad - onto a target. Whereas we would use a Passive wording to defend the assailed target against an agressor." Grave scribbled down more notes and began to write down some examples to remind himself later, "Grave casts at the monster." ~ active "Grave is attacked by the monster." ~ passive "Grave defends against the monster." ~ active
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Posted: Tue May 30, 2006 8:21 am
Once the teacher's attention was off of him, he ceased to care very much and didn't particularly pay attention to the lesson. It was a bit confusing anyway ... active and passive and feeding beasts? I mean ... come on, what kind of school was this anyway?
Bored now, he looked around him for something to do. Eventually, he just pulled a notebook out of the bag he'd grabbed and started doodling on the front cover of it. He didn't even really make an effort to pretend he was taking notes.
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Posted: Tue May 30, 2006 4:53 pm
Amelia had been taking notes when the brightly-colored boy walked into the room. She knew he was a Sanguine from his colors, and she was shocked when he kicked back in his chair with little respect for the professor. It was interesting to watch the interaction between the two, and it seemed that the late boy--Mathiaz--had no fear of Professor Dameron. She stared at him for a minute, and realizing she was being rude, she looked away quickly, blushing.
Focusing on her notebook once again, she began to scribble notes, short and sweet.
Active and Passive Voice
Active: Amelia pets the dog. Passive: The dog was petted by Amelia.
For magical purproses~ Active: to direct a result, good or bad, onto a target. Passive: to defend the assailed target against an aggressor.
Looking up again at Dameron, she waited for the next thing she'd need to make note of. She looked back at Mathiaz again, and noticed he was drawing on his notebook, not a care in the world.
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