Jedly

Academy of the Arcane Artes [Reboot]

Box 23 - Varren Yinyues & Rei Mavan The blinding light which has abruptly enveloped the duos which had formed was manageable. It wasn’t exactly blinding, nor did it have a burning sensation. It was just a little annoying, like the morning sun creeping through window shades. Or maybe it only appeared to be registered by his high in low brightness because of how tightly his hands were cupped over his eyes. Varren was just too noble to admit to being bested by source of light. Sure, his mother or younger friends were explainable, and honestly overpowering by default. The boy remembered being sized up by a woman roughly his size before the witch with void-panties casted her vibrant spell on the student body. Whoever she was, she had a cut of paper crumpled into her hand and was slowly advancing on the boy before the events which led up to present time. Speaking of which, when the boy leviated his arms to his sides. Followed by a few blinks as his eyes adjusted to the change in light, he began to glance around the blank box. He had a quizzical expression on his face with a tinge of worry, yet was overall intrigued with the walling system. Out of boredom, he began to limply swing his arms from side to side as he prospected his surroundings. It was very bland, as the interior designer, which he presumed was the witch, had to mass-produce these encasements on the fly. ”Wonder if we can customize these somehow… That’d be cool~! Maybe there’s a hidden switch, or a hologram console. Oh, maybe it’s one of those puzzles where I have to press the correct puzzle piece.” Regardless of his predicament, he was still acting like a young individual, not considering his safety or the problem at hand by the slightest. Instead Varren was more preoccupied with trying to figure out what his objective was. ”Shouldn’t I have somebody else in this room…? Quite sure my number was issued to another student. Maybe they’re invisible, or super teeny weeny, and I need a microscope. Perhaps they’re the box themselves? The possibilities are endless.” The boy seemed to be lost within his train of sporadic and irrational thought. If he had had his rifles on him, he would have already blown a hole through the side of the cube. Yet one thing was obvious; There had to be another individual present. The boy held his hands out and began to walk forward, trying to see if he would either collide with something or hear a fateful cry proceeded by a crunch sound. While he was blindly advancing, Varren suddenly bumped into something… softy. Even a little squishy. After taking a few steps back from the unforseeable company, he suddenly jutted his finger in the general direction of Rei, ”Either I just bumped into something which I’ll get smacked for, or you have a super duper big triple-quadruple chin!”

Academy of the Arcane Artes [Reboot]

Not quite sure actually, I'm still reading up on the IC before I post. Been a busy week, most definitely, *_*

Free Winds [Reboot]

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeh, lezgoooo. >.> Anyways, will be posting the CS soon.

Academy of the Arcane Artes [Reboot]

Sorry all, might've died from need of sleep yesterday. Will be working on a post today, doe. Good job so far, everybody~

Academy of the Arcane Artes [Reboot]

Yeah, sowwy, been a busy day. Will work shortly, as I've said in skype.

Academy of the Arcane Artes [Reboot]

I believe you've been accepted, since your character was listed in the ice-breaking thing.

Academy of the Arcane Artes [Reboot]

...Welp. Varren's chastity is about to be infringed upon. I can already forsee it. Anyways, gonna read up on the posts.

Academy of the Arcane Artes [Reboot]

Wait, why could we not pick our own partners? @Masaki Haruna we cant partner up like we planned to :(

@BrodZ11711

These aren't permanent partners, just temporary for this ice-breaker.

Academy of the Arcane Artes [Reboot]

Numbers lads, numbers. ER-sama'll have 'em up shortly.

Academy of the Arcane Artes [Reboot]

Kicking Things Off

After wiping off the remaining residue of the frozen projectile, Varren found his own place in the disorganized river of students. Although he would have gladly stuck a conversation with those he had already labeled as fellow first years, time was of the essence, and the boy had not the slightest second to spare. The outside of the building was capped with a circular roof, supported by finely and artistically grooved pillars, fleshed out by carved etchings of masterpieces embedded within portions of the building. At the base where the entrance lied, staff members were busy ushering in while attempt to control the flow of students. After all, having a student trampled to death on the first day was not an ordeal they would like on their hands. The academy itself was a homage to a few thousand students, small in comparison to most, and thus had to establish a building large enough to house their youthful souls in one confined space. The boy gritted his death while dragging along his luggage, wincing at the occasional bump or nudge he would receive from others. He would rather get into a close quarters quarrel with the devil himself in the lowest circle of hell rather than have his frail figure endure such a ruffling. If he was able to do so, Varren would have held his suitcases at each side and attempted to clear a path for himself with a tornado maneuver. Yet he was surely no superhuman or average orc, so that was all but a distant dream. The decor of the hallway leading to the main room was definitely glamorous, but its luster dwindled in comparison to the breathtaking appearance of where all of the students were residing, a sight even more awe-inspiring than the griffin flight he had just been on a few minutes prior. The room itself distinctly resembled an auditorium, with rows upon rows of seating leading down to a stage, the focus of the spectators’ attention. Rather than being organized vertically, year sitting was set horizontally, with the first years in the front and the fifths in the back. Already it was apparent that some sort of a hierarchy system had been established, given the older years presiding position over the first years. Yet this tact wasn’t an attempt at denouncing of the youngsters’ worth. Instead it was to motivate them to manifest a mountain reaching the clouds out of a chasmic molehill. Varren pulled his luggage into a mostly empty row and shuffled his way into his seat. The boy leaned forward as the spotlights on the stage suddenly flashed light in unison at a central point. Almost instantly had all of the veteran years ceased their chatter, leaving the first years still in the middle of their conversations. Soon enough they picked up on the sudden change in volume within the room and ended quieting themselves up. Perhaps it was time for the headmaster to make his appearance? ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ It was not a manly, grizzled war veteran-esque person that walked up onto the stage. Nor was it a sexy, bespectacled, well-endowed mistress that stood at the pedestal. It wasn’t even a normal, homely older gentleman that strode onto the stage. Instead, it was a child, with hair so light that it was only a shade away from white. Much shorter than the majority of students present, the little boy, dressed in a black, plain uniform, took the steps two at a time. Each step resounded heavily throughout out the auditorium, the wood creaking under his footsteps. Yet there was no other indication that there was anything abnormal about the boy, and he continued toward the pedestal unobstructed, before finally facing the masses of students seated in the main hall. The golden light that shone down on him made his blue eyes sparkle with boyish innocence, before he took the mike in his delicate, unmarred hands. Then, without any change in expression, he crushed it with his grip, turning it into scrap metal in a screeching, violent instant. “Sup, you meatsacks! And good morning to all those who aren’t flesh-based as well! Glad to have you back, old years! How does it feel, having spent more years in the Academy than I have spent consciously existing? Oh yeah, I’d say something to you greenhorns as well, but seeing how none of you have made yourself worthy of my attention yet, sucks to suck, eh?” Brushing his pale gold hair to the side with a flourish, the boy’s black uniform expanded in size, before changing its shape into that of a massive suit of armor, complete with thick gauntlets and spikes jutting out every which direction. With a proud smirk, he said in a booming voice, “As you probably coulda guessed by now, if you had actually been listening to Mailov’s introduction, I’m the Headmaster of the school! I’m also your primary combat instructor, as well as examiner? How can I do all these things without succumbing to sleep or exhaustion? Because I’m a Gemstone, and I don’t need that weak shit.” “Now, if you’re here to half-ass your way through school, or use your talent as a crutch, consider yourself expelled. You’ll probably die like a bitch if you think like that, and I’d rather not soak in the tears of your parents, so get your ass in gear or get your ass out. Really though, I’ll say this straight-out.” In an instant, all of his arrogant flamboyance faded, his blue eyes becoming chips of permafrost. “If you’re not going to fight, leave. Now.” In that same instance, all that disappeared, and he said, in a friendly, yet still superior tone, “Anyways, my name’s Ier-Briar Thorn-of-the-Shield, my assistant is Mailov Rice-Tan, and we’ll be starting a fun little icebreaker now, so go check underneath your seat, yeah? You should find yourself a number there!” ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Under Varren’s seat was a bolded twenty-three scrawled onto a blank piece of paper. He glanced at the other students surrounding him, unable to peer at the numbers on their sheets in the dim lighting.