The waltz of polymaths and prodigies continued on into the night, more and more couples joining the floor as they realized that the entire party may pass before any of them could actually find a partner to take out on a spin. The lights in the room shone warmly, exuberantly, as the automatic orchestra gained a new brilliance under the guidance of the mixed-blood maestro, restrained instrumentals serving as a counterpoint to the soulful strings of Ling-Ling Zamloch. Such musicality wove itself particularly well into the ears of the more inebriated of the party, Franz, Ryuuko, Shou, and Hana all enjoying an altered state of mind amidst the glamourous opulence of the Hall of the Greats. For once, Vienna’s Universal Genius found himself following rather than leading, Ryuuko’s constitution and distaste for traditional roles driving the young lady to pilot them through the controlled chaos of the dance floor. Her years in Germany had served her well, and though she may not have been the better dancer under normal circumstances, when both parties were all loosey-goosey from Hana’s concoctions, it was little wonder that an Egoist would do better in keeping their wits together and their body controlled. Shou and Hana enjoyed the circumstances as well, the latter’s recreational opioids granting both Egoist a look perhaps at what Technologists see on a daily basis. The light that reflected from brass instruments and chandeliers, from wine glasses and marbled pillars, all seemed to disseminate into their base constructions, a kaleidoscopic brilliance that encouraged a bubbly joy within the two as they slipped between the gaps of fellow couples, quickstepping with the audacity that only two Egoists could possess.

Not all though, had the benefit of joining the dance floor. For all the suitors she had waiting back in her fatherland, for all the hands that normally would have taken hers in any of the Royal Society’s galas and parties following an architectural discovery or a historical breakthrough, Nazca found herself frustratingly alone, watching as the one hand she had wanted to take was whisked off onto the dance floor by some German who didn’t even know how to dance. Kalil had certainly expeditated the usual ballroom ritual of asking a lady out to a dance once he sensed the [i]former[/i] princess’s approach, perhaps unwilling to be pulled between two equally stubborn choices once more and was now half-stumbling across the dance floor with someone else more than a foot shorter than him. A merchant’s guile may have taught the young man how to talk to short people, but it definitely didn’t prepare him for the experience of dancing with them. After all, the little princess of the Konigsmahnes had eschewed so much social experience in pursuit of her technologist obsessions that she knew little of what to actually do on the dance floor beyond following the basics ardently…basics that were mismatched for how Kalil himself was taught to dance. It was a small disaster, made only bearable by Lucretia’s inability to really comprehend how bad of a dancer he was, and Kalil being unable to really appreciate how embarrassing this was due still coming off his high.

If that trio was a disaster, however, Valeriya was a star, her flaxen hair shining in crystal-hued lights and catching the gaze of all bystanders. Other Egoists may possess more physicality than her, but the dance moves of the Occidental had always been designed for a flesh-and-blood human rather than some animalistic mutant, and the Ministry had prepared her well for the finer craft of socialization. She passed into the arms of many gentlemen and ladies that night, always a witty observation or a fine compliment on her lips as she changed partners, while off in the corner the one who originally invited her sat on a chair, tie loosened and sweat still dripping from his bow. Bang [i]had[/i] been a good dancer. He always had an image to fulfill, after all. Being a ‘publicly adored’ Egoist meant knowing things that the War Gods of Vietnam did not need to, and he had performed admirably for one dance before his old wounds began catching up to him once more. A glass of chilled fruit juice subdued his fatigue though, and the cheerful frenzy of the dance floor pulled at him once more. The last song of the night was approaching. It was only right to accompany Valeriya one final time.

Thoughts of joining the dance at any point was totally out of the picture for James, however. The infamous Professor Poison, terror of Britain’s secret underbelly, was currently reclining on a sofa, a damp towel over his face as he suffered the down that came with the high of whatever twisted cocktail of drugs that the blasted Prodigy of Dhaka had, well, blasted him with. The music was simply too damned loud, and every footfall sounded like a hammer to his skull, a reminder that he seriously should have upped his tolerance to drugs and poisons rather than obsessing over the functionalities of his gas mask. It didn’t help, of course, that he could hear the high-pitched chatterings of one Inti Ruq’a, intent on making friends with any asocial wallflower that didn’t want to join in on the dance. Even through rejections and noncommittal responses to his conversation starts, the Aztecan youth was having the time of his life. A waltz was fun to watch even when you weren’t in the thick of it, after all, and seeing how more monstrous Egoists adjusted to accommodate for their non-standard limbs was a sight to behold. A sight that became even more worthy of beholding when one of them practically tossed another up a whole three stories into the air, the fabrics of that girl’s dress closing like a flower bud upon ascent, before blossoming open on descent.

Such revelry was not what Jeanne had interest in partaking in though. The buffoonery of supposed geniuses only exposed the ignorance and immaturity of her peers, as if they truly believed that the Academy City of Bermuda existed as some symbol of peace. Alone in an opera box, a goblet of sanguine wine swirling in her hand, the Flame Witch of France watched with cold eyes at the proceedings below, the light refracting from her wine glass casting a crimson hue over her pale features. They didn’t understand, did they? Perhaps they would never understand, truthfully. Geniuses bound by conventions, children still treading the tired roads of the adults before them, when they ought to be stepping upon the shoulders and the skulls of their forebearers instead, casting their gaze ever higher, ever brighter.

Or perhaps their gaze should be kept towards the horizon instead. Though he had been prepared for the party somewhat, Kiran had still found the opera hall to be somewhat stifling in its grandeur. As those that sought him had hopped off to join in the dance, the young explorer had sought solace outside the Hall of the Greats instead. The music was muted now, and he found himself staring at the falsified sky outside, breathing in the balmy air of the equator. Even here, the faint roar of the ocean could be heard, and as the time ticked closer and closer to the end of the party, double-decked trams began to converge upon the hall. The muted music crescendoed, the heady warmth of the night gave way to the cool breath of the near and distant ocean. Perhaps there would never be a true winter in Bermuda, but there would always be the familiar seas.

And that was fine.

As the first of the trams arrived, as the last notes of played out, Kiran got himself the first choice of seats.

The night was over. It was time to see their accommodations properly.

[center][sub][b]EE 87, May 4 | Night[/b][/sub][/center]
[sub][@Medili][@Jumbus][/sub]
Was this a sick joke? Was whoever in charge of assigning students to their rooms actually some perverted psychopath? Did her family pay good money for this bullshit? Beyond the pleasant surprise of realizing that her dance partner was also apparently her roommate, Ryuuko, stepping off the tram and being directed to the apartment, would realize that the entire building was designed as a Japanese ryokan, with sturdy wooden walls partitioning the property from the streets and austere gardens of swept stone and crooked trees framing the wide, three-story array. She could practically [i]smell[/i] the tatami at this distance. Perhaps it was novel, even enjoyable to the other students who had been assigned to this building, and there definitely seemed to be an eclectic mish-mash of nationalities around her, but wow. Just wow.

Ryuuko would have to do a fair lot of renovation, for sure.
[sub][@banjoanjo][@Liotrent][/sub]
The grandeur of [i]La Nadine[/i] was not lost upon Bang and James, both who had a moment to marvel at the French architecture that informed the design of the seven-story hotel, before they were whisked in by the staff to get their room keys. The first floor had both a communal dining room, a gym, and an entire [i]swimming pool[/i] tucked in, doubtlessly meant to be a public space for all occupants of the hotel, while the two Polymaths themselves found themselves rooming together in a spacious four-bedroom, three-bathroom, two-kitchen space, already furnished with plush furniture and floral prints. There was no doubt now that Bermuda was meant to accommodate even more students than the initial two thousand, and it undoubtedly boggled the mind to consider just how much luxury could be afford when the unified wealth of the nations was concentrated in one stop.

Perhaps it was even a bit uncomfortable for the two of them…but on the other hand? It was about time they could live it up, as individuals of true genius and popularity!
[sub][@Yankee][@SgtEasy][/sub]
Subdued elegance was what Inti and Kalil came to as they marvelled the Venetian design of their four-story apartment. Formed in the design of a horseshoe, with the inner side becoming an open plaza for dining and socializing amongst a well-maintained garden, the apartments had a wonderful beachside view, and the interior that the two were housed in followed that same trend of classy, cool charm. Patterned tiles clicked beneath their feet, while firm and warm rugs ringed around the furniture in the room. With a private bedroom and a shared living space that had an open-concept kitchen, the only fault that the apartment had was perhaps the lack of a bathroom…which honestly wasn’t a problem, when there was a [i]thermae[/i] and a whole ocean within walking distance.

The colors in the room may be lacking the complexity that each of the boys’ respective heritages and cultures had, but certainly, that was an easy thing to fix. 
[sub][@Psyker Landshark][@Izurich][/sub]
Perhaps there was some irony to be mined from Valeriya being expected to live in what, by all accounts, looked to be a British castle, but Lucretia was easily at home with it. Roughly-hewn stonework gave the exterior of the castle-apartment quite a bit of medieval charm, while the suite that the two Europeans were actually expected to share was fortunately still equipped with all the facilities one could expect out of any modern suite. A massive hearth, equally massive chairs, and the mounted head of a stag, all generated a real sense of rustic, aristocratic coziness to the space, while the four canopy beds that were present in the singular bedroom was decked with fine embroidered silks. It was perhaps a bit excessive to have such beds, when piping wove in and out of the stonework to heat up each room regardless, but it brought forth thoughts both of resplendent comfort and archaic times, when privacy could not be guaranteed no matter how wealthy one was. Well, privacy wasn’t too much of a concern in the end. It would be easy enough to partition off the bedroom into two halves, and there were four separate studies within the suite too.

It looked to be very comforting, having this place as a home, even if it was unlikely that there would be any good hunting to be had on Bermuda.
[sub][@Zombehs][@Silverpaw][/sub]
Dark, thick timbers and sturdy brickwork made for a rather traditional Germanic set-up for an apartment. Three stories tall and painted the brown, white, and green of any old-fashioned inn, the building was nothing if not comfortable for Shou and Kiran, removed from the flimsy opulence of the opera hall. It was auspicious that two men of the sea found themselves roomed together in a space that was humbly-furnished but still remarkably spacious. The small windows of the suite were a bit unfortunate, and the beds were a bit too big for what both of them were accustomed to, but otherwise, it was a comforting place with a simple coloring theme. Two bedrooms, a small fireplace and dining room, and a well-equipped kitchen made an austere impression, but one that gave Shou and Kiran plenty of room to make their own design choices if they so wished.

And if they didn’t? Well, what sort of traditional German hostel didn’t have a full tavern right underneath?
[sub][@Click This][@GreenGoat][@Vega7285][/sub]
The waters of the swimming pool that laid in the inner courtyard of the lime plastered apartments was wonderfully, beautifully blue. It was almost a pity then, that neither Nazca nor Hana nor Jeanne would be able to dip into that pool until the morning. The three had been assigned separate rooms in the three storied building, where stone pillars and plentiful archways contrasted with tiled roofs and wooden railings. Large glass doors led to patios that offered both views of the pool below, where lounge chairs and sunshades stood, as well as to the natural reserves beyond. The suites themselves, single bedroom establishments with a kitchen close to the patio to encourage outdoors dining, had wonderful Incan-style rugs to give some color to the interior, while tasteful Renaissance paintings adorned the walls. And of course, one could not forget to comment on how gorgeous the clawfoot tubs of the bathrooms were.

Undoubtedly, this would be a wonderfully clandestine retreat for the ladies of the apartment. And if they ever wanted to socialize and show off their swimwear…well, a scenic pool was just downstairs.