Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Ah, they're here."

There was a long pause before a figure emerged from the room behind the drawn curtain; she wasn't very tall, and looked rather petite. Despite her size and how ordinary she looked compared to some of the Horsemen of Conquests, however, she carried herself with such grace that it wasn't hard to believe that she was one of them. Her robes looked like it had many layers, and her every step was calculated so that her feet would never be seen under the folds of her long, pale blue dress.

"Welcome, welcome..." She moved to stand in front of the low table, her black eyes scanning the many different faces, "With a Clan name such as Conquest, you must think that you are here to learn the art of war and battle. However, we believe that there is more to life than just your skill on the battlefield... We also believe in the importance of artistic and academic excellence!" Yes... An all-rounded education was only proper.

"I am Zhang Liulian, one of your mentors during your short stay here. You may call me Professor Zhang, since I've heard that students such as yourself are used to addressing their mentors in that manner," She went on with that same, consistent smile, "There is another, and he will be joining us soon... Ah, there he is."

Another horseman of conquest emerged from behind the curtain, taking his place behind and to the side of the teacher. Though he was taller than Professor Zhang, he carried himself with such humility that she seemed to tower over him. In fact, he didn’t seem that much older than the students.

“Ah, welcome, students.” He bowed his head. “My name is Lan Shanzhu, but you will address me as Assistant-Professor Shanzhu. I have spent many years studying under Lady Zhang.”

"My best pupil." She smiled fondly, "Now, before I continue, please note that we value and respect our elders. If you wish to speak, raise your hand and wait to be called. If you wish to take your leave, raise your hand, stand up, and bow to your teacher before you move from your seat. I do not take well to... Ill-manned children. Perhaps an exceptional child shall emerge yet."

Day 2, and the student would return to the room only to see that the low tables had been rearranged and split into two groups with some tables on one side of the classroom, and some on the other side... Put in such a way that they faced each other.

"Welcome back, students. I have prepared this the previous night, under the instruction of Lady Zhang," This time, it was Assistant-Professor Shanzhu that was addressing them, with Professor Zhang seated at the low table behind him. From where he was standing, he procured what looked like a scroll from the sleeve of his robe, and rolled it out down the middle of the classroom, dividing the circular classroom into two semi-circles. Upon closer inspection, the scroll painting was actually of a grassy green field with a bamboo forest in the middle; the area was surrounded by tall mountains.

"Your task in today's lesson is to design and paint a creature on the paper laid out on your table, using the ink that you had made yesterday. To complete your beast, draw in the eyes - once that last step is done, a spell that had been cast on the paper will transfer the beast over to the landscape you see before you."

A short pause, "Like before, you may leave once you are done with your assignment, but remember your manners."

Day 4, and you found yourself sucked into the painting the moment you stepped through the classroom door. Unlike before, this time, you landed on a harness that had been tied around the body of your beast; at the back of the harness is a huge bamboo basket with heavy nets in them.

"Now, you must understand," The two Professors were seated on the edge of a cliff overseeing the field, behind a low table with teas and snacks, "In a battlefield, your plans might not always go the way you want them to. You must learn to think fast and be creative; brute force is not always the best way to go about things. Sometimes, you need to slow down and use your brain instead. Go on, comb the area for a Wild Beast and try to capture it; however, you have to weaken it first... You only have one try, so try not to kill it either!"

Standing up, she clapped her hands and the earth in the painting started to shake; soon, there were Wild Beasts everywhere.

"As usual, once you are done, you will be sent out of the painting and may leave the classroom," You could see her smile from where you are, or maybe you imagined it, "You will know how you fared for this class the day after."



At the bottom of every post you make, please add this to help you (and me) to keep track of your progress!



On your last post, please post this at the top depending on if you succeeded in capturing a Wild Beast:

Lumi had no troubles removing her shoes before entering the elaborate building. It only seemed natural, as she stepped across the thresh hold she couldn't believe her eyes, every inch of the class room was decorated beautifully and skilfully. Her ears twitched at the sound of movement, she turned to see two instructors come in to the class.

Bowing respectfully to the two before she took a seat. It was respectful back home and so much of what she was seeing here was like home she only hoped it wasn't frowned upon.

((Sorry if I posted early))

Ink well, please be well...

Lumi took a seat at the table and looked down at the paper, water and cake. Oh this looked like fun. Watching the instructor she was hesitant to lift the water, with her luck it just might go everywhere, but she carefully pour a little water, it was just enough possibly a little more then needed but at least it didn't go everywhere.

Smiling happily she looked at the mortar and the cake, Placing it down up on the stone she slowly pounded the cake down turning the water in to a beautiful inky black after some time. Happy with the results of day one. She looked at both instructors and raised her hand. She was planning on leaving for the day. As she was looked at she stood up and bowed to show respect.

"If it is okay I would like to take my leave."

She said softly to both instructors.

Ink well, please be well...

The slimer felt that he was going to enjoy this class as soon as their teacher said, “paint.” He had painted so much that he would humbly consider himself nearly professional. Though, he did have little time actually making the paint. He felt that it wouldn’t be different from mixing the paint products he had.
He watched the teacher. He watched how she carefully poured the water, and how she delicately crushed the cake of ink into fine powder that eventually blended perfectly with the water. He watched it excitedly. His eyes moving down to the set and table in front of him, and back up at the teacher until it was to be his turn.

And so, he sat, and took a breath in, and then out. He lifted his hand, to pull up his sleeve, and tipped his cup of water of the stone slab. The ghost gasped. He picked up the cup. He placed a bit of his sleeve at the edges of the slab as the water overflowed from it.

He frowned upon looking at the drowned slab of ink while the water seeped in through the threads of his clothes.

Once his sleeves had soaked enough of the water from pouring over the slab, the ghost took the pestle and began crushing what was left of the ink cake. Thankfully, it was mixing well enough, not even close to how the teacher had taught them, but it was close.

The ghost’s face was mute; flat and expressionless. He was rather disappointed at himself at that moment.

Ink well, please be well...

Yin was not the most observant when it came to signs. He disliked most of them, because they required reading. He did however, know what a shoe rack was, though he had not seen any at Amityville. Any time he went to the temple he had been expected to wear shoes, to arrive looking his best. As soon as they got there, they took them off. So he reached down, sliding of the tough but yet almost flimsy slips over his clawed toes (if they could be called that), leaving them on the shoe rack without ever needing to read the sign. This clan made sense to the mantodae.

The marble floor was almost painfully cold against his bare feet, but it was bearable. The room was itself was large but...serene. It was well decorated, the simple details that were there and could easily be taken for granted, or admired for hours, depending on the viewer. He was the sort that noted them, felt a small pang of nostalgia, appreciated them, and moved on. He was no artist, and he could not fully appreciate the craftsmanship of them. He found himself standing around the edge of the room, facing a table with a set of cushions, waiting patiently for the class to begin.

He was not waiting long when Professor Zhang Liulian came through the doors. He knew who she was, she had been at the dance class, and he bowed at her entrance, a reflex rather than any conscious effort that other visitors may have needed to make.

He was quickly disappointed when he discovered that they were not, in fact, waiting to leave the room and head out to the sparring fields. They were here to do something artistic. He was uncertain, but perhaps he was glad that he had taken the arts and crafts class at Amityville after the trials, though he doubted that knowledge of living(?) beads would help him here.

And now Assistant-Professor Lan Shanzhu appeared. He listened to the remaining instructions, knowing well enough to bow to his instructors, though he had not been doing so while at Amityville. This served to remind him of how lax his manners had truly been in recent months, and he was slightly flustered by the realization.

Tables were being sat up and while he moved forward to help the servants knew what they were doing and he could only stand there uselessly and then take a seat, trying not to become excited. This. This was what he was accustomed to. A brush not completely dissimilar to the sort that he had been taught to write with as a child. And everything was natural, no technology or odd devices such as pens here. He had never made ink before, that was not something that a scareling was allowed to do, and as he had not gone into academics he did not get far enough in school for it to be deemed of importance. Really, a boil going on the track to becoming a guard? No one, including himself, had really thought he was going to write more than his name for the rest of his life.

So he found himself watching in intrigue as she began to make the ink. So long as he did not stare at her face or meet her eyes it was not rude, this was a demonstration after all. So, a simple drip of water, and then grinding the ink. He could manage that. He reached for the water, eyeing the stone slab in front of him. Just a drip? He managed to get a good grip on the cup and carefully poured precisely the right amount onto the slab, setting the cup with the remaining water back down.

And now it was time to pound the ink down with the mortar. He went at it with a fair amount of enthusiasm, possibly pounding the cake of ink just a bit too much, but the ink and water mixed well enough. So, there was no guarantee that he could make any sort of artwork worth saving, but at least he could mix ink together.