[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/01989c3a-cdd4-7239-bbf7-969d978789bc.webp[/img][/center] [hr][center][color=298e25]Location[/color]: Hall of Ancients, Strange Academy [color=298e25]Grimoire[/color]: [color=298e25]Skills[/color]: [url=https://i.pinimg.com/736x/d6/67/d6/d667d6aff85379764e1832ae3b61dde8.jpg]Current Outfit[/url] [/center] [hr][hr] Strange Academy was always a warm place. Not exactly warm physically, though it was that too. The lights and lanterns around the place, the general hum of people unafraid to talk to one another, and the shared reason for being here all made the grounds feel [i]alive.[/i] All the ambient chatter and the musical number being played was more noise than Rohan was accustomed to. It had been some time since he'd been here, in a place as [i]social[/i] as this. After the last semester ended, he'd gone back to the place he was most at home in, the forest. No forest in particular, but just [i]the forest.[/i] One copse of trees here, one rolling field of moss there, he went wherever [i]they[/i] weren't so immediately noticeable. And when they showed up, he just moved on like an animal did. Those woods were always quiet, and not like this. He walked onto the school grounds loaded down with all his things. His sword, his staff, his mask, and all the usual magical bits and bobs a wizard of his ilk often carried. Rohan looked as if he hadn't even stopped to do more than the bare minimum to make himself presentable before coming back to civilization. And that was because he didn't. He stopped by a creek somewhere far off to wash the soot from a campfire from his face and hair, cut away sheets of moss from his clothes that were keeping him mostly dry since he didn't need them here, and smoked some cuts of unnatural from a dead beast or two before he set foot in New Orleans. Here, people were keeping to themselves and interacting like there was a preconceived level of noise deemed acceptable. Rohan was used to dead silence, it was almost a surprise coming back, and it always was. Showing up to the hall he'd never been in before was interesting. The sheer size of the statues was [i]impressive.[/i] The cursed wizard pondered them with a bite of rabbit, as he walked along. Professor Croan's nose wrinkled as Rohan approached, a handkerchief quickly coming up to protect his nose. "Ah. The reason why I submitted resolutions on student hygiene." "Croan! Don't be so closed minded! 27 billion light years away is a planet whose mystics let their natural oils build for several revolutions before using it as a fundamental resource in their castings. Perhaps young Rohan is experimenting!" Mikkail reprimanded enthusiastically. "Ah! You're Rohan! I hadn't put a name to a face yet but I cannot [i]wait[/i] to get my hands on you." Sariel shoved her colleagues away and madness glinted behind her eyes. "I have wanted to get your sap in my lab for ages and now that you’re my advisee, we'll see how far we can push the limits of your curse." Rohan gave the three a lackadaisical smirk. [color=298e25]”How about you say that a little louder, just in case [i]someone[/i] didn’t catch that, miss?”[/color] He didn’t like flaunting that his soul was twisted and gnarled. Whoever knew it knew, whoever didn’t just didn’t. [color=298e25]”Don’t mind me…”[/color] He walked up to the fish tank labelled “Catch one.” Curiously, he withdrew an old hunting knife, made from bone and metal, sharpened to a wicked point. He flipped it around into a murder grip and leaned over the tank. Rohan watched the fish swirl around, waiting patiently for them to slow down. And eventually, one floated a little higher and then came to a near stop. [i]Thunk.[/i] He skewered one on the blade and promptly pulled it free. The fish distorted and blurred, until it wasn’t a fish any longer. It was a [url=https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/01989525-5e43-738b-a1a1-7c79d376f4db.webp]key[/url], dangling off the blade by its ring. It looked like a candle, was that on purpose? [color=298e25]”Hmm.”[/color]