RoflsMazoy

L'Mordryn Academy

Came in to say hello.

I'll be bringing a fairly unusual character to this RP, I think. :D

I haven't written anything yet but I should have it done by the end of the day. Hope you won't mind having me

Royal Rumble!

A King's Gambit, 1

"Now!" King shouted.

Would the masked man be surprised that, as he returned to their dimension, Alto had replaced his Blade of Light with King's net? If not, maybe he would be surprised when the scream that sunders dimensions failed to render Alto to dust. It wasn't as if the net could absorb all of it unless he happened to be right in his face, and he wouldn't have been ready for any other attack.

King knew where he was coming, and just about knew when, but without knowing what he would do there was only one way King could prepare. He could just leave the job to someone else.

Alto had faster reflexes than he did, so all he had to do was give him the strongest shield. The masked man didn't use weapons, so if he were to appear outside of melee range it would be for a ranged non-weapon attack, which the net wasn't exactly rated for, but it would work.

There was no pre-emptive strike he could've readied, even with a warship in orbit. When the masked man could slip dimensions like that that means they had to save the bombardment for when they'd really need it.

Alto held the net in front of him feeling as foolish as one could get holding out a net to catch soundwaves which could rip apart dimensional walls. It was strange. Where the net was, not even a whisper came through, but it couldn't cover all of Alto. The net itself was also shaking violently. As it wrenched itself free from his grasp he unleashed his counterattack.

"Hyperlight… Stream!" Alto called.

A beam of light shot out from his finger, racing directly for the masked cultist's neck. At the same time, King came down from behind, bringing his Lightsabre to bear towards the cultist's head.
@KillamriX88

Royal Rumble!

---

"You never told me what those... Tools were for," Alto said.

"Oh yeah, well right now they're for nothing." King said. He put the sack and net in his cape and suddenly they were gone. "It did its job already."

In its place he pulled out his usual weapon.

Another ability, then? Or some sort of technology? Frankly the enigma known as King was one he didn't have the energy to deal with today. Even if the incident ended well, there was a lot of clean-up to see to. Still, if there was one thing he needed to take away from the experience, it was that King didn't wield a simple bag of tricks, he was wielding force here. One way or another it was always hard for him to take King seriously until the fight began. But when the fight began, Alto could feel conviction in his every strike.

There was a lot to King. He needed to know more if he wanted to be his enemy, or his ally.

"Go for the knees, I'll go for the eyes," King said.

No more talking then. Alto would lead in with a God Speed Flash and strike from behind then.

"Proceed," Alto said as they launched into action.

@Gentlemanvaultboy@KillamriX88

Royal Rumble!

The Airship

"Jokey, how's our viewcount?!" Drake called over to her side.

"Enough," He replied.

For a normal captain on a normal ship their station would be at the helm, but they were on the deck right now. The rest of the ship had been emptied of its inhabitants. The boarding lines retracted inwards because it would look weird if they stayed out. Jokey was sitting down with a laptop out in front of him, connected to a slew of expensive looking equipment. It was clearly a recording set-up, or perhaps even a streaming set-up, as well as several other monitors strewn about keeping eyes on various news feeds and surveillance cameras.

"Alright, let's go live in a minute or so, Jokey how do I look?"

She'd managed to grab an appropriate pirate outfit in time for the summons after the rest. Had to look the part, after all.

"You honestly expect me to be able to do anything if you look bad? We didn't bring the right stuff, although I don't know what the hell that'd be for a makeup tech."

"You didn't even grab a mirror?" Drake pouted.

"I'll black out one of the monitors for you, should be shiny enough to see your relfection." He fired back without so much as looking up from the screen.

"Guh, guess it's good enough. I can't really be that picky, anyway, let's get this show on the road." She said, psyching herself up.

The man she called Jokey pressed a button and the equipment surged with power. A digital portal opened in the air, right on deck.

"We're coming to you live from Demon War 1.1! For those viewers only just now tuning in to whatever's going on, we're currently floating right above the big boss at the center of it all. Unfortunately since we don't really know anything else there's nothing else to report on, so let's get to the main event! Log in and get to battle stations!" Drake said to the camera.

This wasn't exactly being broadcast onto all the nearby news stations or anything like that. They were just streaming online directly to their viewers. But on the S. S. Cervantes, this act meant so much more. Through the portal small spirit like sprites appeared. This was a very unorthodox way to harness a platform for sure. Those at home tuning into the stream would find that an extra button had appeared on their screens.

For every person who pressed a button, a sprite appeared. Their perspective suddenly changed from the camera to the sprite's.

"It's a few of you each to a cannon, it's the first time I've done this so I can't tell you how many, but it should pop up on your screen if you look at it!"

Controls for the sprite were WASD, space bar for rising, and control for falling. When they went to a part of a cannon, a short tutorial would pop up telling them how to operate each part. Each sprite could only manipulate one part of the cannon, but roles could be rotated without issue. In the end, all of them would be firing the trigger as well.

"Take aim and hold it!" Drake shouted. Administrative controls were in Jokey's hands so they wouldn't be able to fire before he released them anyhow. "We wait for the signal, then we fire!"
@Gentlemanvaultboy@KillamriX88

Royal Rumble!

Return of the King

If a certain person were to sum up the situation, perhaps they would call it unprofitable. The tournament was likely to be cancelled after this. Too many fighters injured, too many souls scarred. Strictly unprofitable. But you can't make a profit without people to profit from. And an apocalypse event would really hurt his baseline.

"Everything's ready on this side," The voice on the other side of the line said.

"You work fast, as always," King said.

He stood on top of the arena looking down at the chaos below. In one hand, a really big butterfly net. In his other, a really big sack full of… something. He had his phone on speaker resting on his shoulder.

"I would've appreciated more warning."

"Me too," He said. "I've got one more visit in order, just send them in. Priority is staying alive, secondary is handling the situation."

With that he hung up and made his way to the stands, to perhaps the only person who saw him up above the arena. Alto.

"You're going to fight, aren't you?" King said as he touched down.

Alto just looked over him with a sour expression on his face.

"What is that ridiculous getup?" He said.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," King said.

He reached into his sack and tossed a tiny device over to Alto.

"It'll stop the bleeding. It uses expanding foam to seal the wound, and your cells will eat it away as you heal. It won't do that much for you right now, but you won't bleed out."

Alto grudgingly used the device. Prideful as he was he had more to do today which bleeding out would've put an unfortunate stop to.

"What a mess of a day this is," King said. "There's no way you could've seen all this coming, I'd say you're doing alright as far as I can tell."

"Cut the small talk. You were ready for this," Alto said. King seemed far too at ease in almost every scenario, but now? Even Alto was hard pressed to keep calm. "What's your play here?"

"Well…" King said, a smile creeping onto his face. "I'm just here to save the day."

A shadow fell over the arena. Up in the sky, emerging from a pixelated portal was a fully armed modern warship. From the ground, its flag was just about discernible. A spray-painted purple Jolly Roger on a grey flag.

"…What did you do?" Alto said.

"I just asked." King shrugged. "A few of them owed me a favour, but this isn't exactly about that. A lot of them are just more virtuous than I am."

To sign up for the Vigilantes there were relatively few hurdles. One of those was you needed a phone number. In this day and age it was always a good idea to have an extra layer of security for personal accounts. However, it did also allow them to do something like this.

It would've been easy to miss in the chaos that the arena had become, but it wasn't for the Vigilantes trapped there, after all.

A mass-text message sent to every registered Vigilante. There were many who weren't participating in the tournament that day for various reasons. It goes without saying but the Vigilantes had many members. Almost innumerable. Having a low barrier for entry however meant there were many that couldn't quite be counted on to show up just at the word of the leader. There were many who weren't the most serious about ideals. Though King had mentioned virtue, virtue was no guarantor. But they did have a sort of unofficial catch phrase. The right virtues in the right places can make all the difference.

"This is DJ Drake asking you one question and one question only!" Came a familiar loud voice over the megaphones. Up on the deck of the ship, a familiar purple-haired DJ stood. "Rhea! Are! You! Ready!"

Suddenly dozens of ropes rolled out from the sides of the ship. Then they came. Some of them known Vigilantes, some fighters from the Midnight Tournament, even Vigilantes in school uniforms who very clearly hadn't had stopping an Demon Incursion on their schedule that day but had decided to come regardless.

They came down on the ropes, or in free-fall.

"Well, I said virtue but we're more of a fame and fortune type of group in the end." King said. "There's enough adrenaline for the junkies, enough blood for the fight addicts, and enough cultists for everybody's five seconds of fame. But, even if I bring them all, against him, it might not be enough. I'm not sending anyone to fight him. Technically I'm not sending them anywhere, but they can't fight him."

The masked man in the arena. The Demon. It was impossible to discern his expression, what he thought of the situation. Alto understood King's plan now. It was clear he knew something more, but it wouldn't matter. It was clear enough that if Alto and King didn't engage the Demon in the centre of the Arena, something undesirable would occur.

"What do you say, Child of Light? Do you want the guts? Or the glory?"

Alto gave King one last look before sighing and drawing his sword to his side.

"Glory it is."

@KillamriX88@Gentlemanvaultboy

Royal Rumble!

[Previous post pasted elsewhere, pending changes]

Royal Rumble!

Galliere, the Knight

"A moment thee hast already claimed. A few more may not cause harm." Galliere replied with her back turned towards William, before she dramatically turned around on her boots, her white cape flowing up as she did, taking a pose with one hand at her blade and the other by her waist. Not in a combat-like pose, more the kind you would expect to find in old drawings.

"Thine name dost precede thee, sir William. I know whom thou art. This mutual acquintance thee speak of herein, be mine brother."

The blonde young woman took a few steps forwards, down some short stairs, her metal boots causing an echo in the chamber they both now were within.

"Be it slander if it be the truth? Not always is the truth beautiful nor be it something thee want. Despite so, some go seeking for it relentlessly. What be this agreement thou seek, sir William of the Ascots?"

William gave a slight bow. "Two people are corrosive to the defense of Rhea against a future 'Greater Evil'; Vittorio Twinveil and your brother, Galbrek Ravenovich, and this corrosion cannot be cured by their deaths - if anything, their deaths would just cause greater damage to Rhea's capability to protect itself. No, rather, they need to be... Resolved. Thier issues have to be settled in a way that is healthy for them and would also add to the numbers of Rhea's defenders."

A pause. "Your fellow Vigilante, Alexandria Sova, or Andras, Lady of Despair as she prefers to be known, is helping me ressurect Vittorio's friends and family; a true ressurection instead of mere imitation. One more can be added to the list of people to bring back, one more that will create a vital bulwark for this city."

Another pause. "I believe you know who I am speaking of... But therein lies the rub; Andras will not be willing to do something good for the one who has ordered her kidnapping multiple times."

Galliere stood silent hearing out what William had to say.

"I do not know of this Vittorio Twinveil. In regards of mine brother however. He does what he deems to be right. Be it any different from what thee believe is right? Methods may differ, but many believe their way is the right one to tread."

"I dost know of Andras. She hast found comfort in the library, amidst the company of books. As hast I." Galliere took out a book hidden by her belt, just under the cover of her white mantle.

"A happy ending where all the dead of the world come alife anew. How many dost thee believe hast perished since the beginning of life? How many deserved it? Would they too fall into thine quest?" Galliere sheathed her sword and began to open the book she had retrieved from her belt.

"Every story hast a beginning and an end, not all whom were there at the start be there at the end. Not in physical form, only in the memory of those they leave behind as long as they pass their story on. But it is thanks to those memories that others be able to take the necessary steps forth, be they for good or evil. Whom art thou to decide if people die or not? Art thou flawless nay a god?"

Galliere began to draw a symbol using a finger midair. "Gaze upon thyself from the eyes of others. Those whom thee hast judged, let them judge thee now instead."

"Reincarnation!" She spoke out in a clear voice, a chant of magical nature. A spell? The are would seem to fill with magical darkness and to begin to be flooded by William's memories. She would show William visages, drawn from William's own memories of people and animals he may have willingly or unwillingly hurt. Allowing him to feel their happiness, but also anger, pain and sorrow. How his own words and actions have caused ripples and effects to those in his surrounding. She would wait until her spell would fade, she had been unable to move or do anything while focusing on her spell. Neither had she been able to get any glimses into William's mind.

"Darla; the doll girl who died a second time," William said as his head and shoulders slumped down. "Wolf, Vera, Vernon, and Alexander, my brother. Meredith, Andras herself, Fegin, Adam, and Bak. I've hurt so many, I've hurt so much."

But he didn't lose himself in the pain and anger; it was the sorrow that did it. "It's my ego, isn't it? My narcissism and desire to justify it with self-righteousness. There is also my desire for a neat and happy ending."

As he said this, he noticed that part of him was refusing to yield, even to such sadness. This part wept with them, but stuck to its guns, stuck to a position and never gave way. And when the spell faded, William had this to say, "I hurt so many and I want to stop. For once in my life, I want to stop my activities, my web, and my desire to be important. I just want to enjoy my childhood and studies and my life."

He breathed hard. "Galiere, my pride has played a part in all this; my grand designs are as nothing compared to this cold hard reality."

Facing her, he spoke, "But how can I just watch as so much that was good, that can still be good, rots away before burning itself out? How can I just watch people suffer and do nothing to help? And all the while... There is a threat approaching us all; the very Greater Evil that King believes in. How can I just stand by and watch ruin come?"

A further look, then a sigh. "But that doesn't exempt me from having to watch myself. It doesn't exempt me from the responsibility not to hurt others. My cause does not make all of my actions sarcosanct."

"Darla hast died? I see." Galliere said in a questioning manner, but one that wouldn't need replying to as she nodded softly.

"Indeed. Thee art only one of many in the world. I too desire the ending to be a happy one. So do most people. Think of what makes thee happy, join those who share similar a vision. No matter what thee will always have enemies and those who refuse thine future."

"My brother, Galbrek believes that humanity deserves to be destroyed for the things they hast done. Be he wrong? Why be he wrong? My answer is because evil takes many forms, it does not only lie within humans alone. This is where myself and my brother differ."

Galliere softly exhaled. "The hatred is what drives him forth. It blinds him from past and future. His greatest weakness is his heart, which only one living soul has been able to touch. What will happen the day he realizes that soul belongs to a human? He will be unable to proceed the way he has done. He will cease to be. His view on humankind broken."

"Sir William. Keep fighting what thee believe in but do so with consideration to those around thee. Ally or foe. Know what thine act shalt bring."

A smile from Will, and another nod. "Thank you. Does this mean that other than a reminder to be humble, no other help will come from you, though?"

Galliere partly repeated herself. "His heart can be reached and breached by a human soul. The first of the many. The one which lingers no matter how hard the wind blows. The one whose trying to fill up the hole left behind. Only by losing that will he realize his error." Galliere turned to walk back up to the altar and the stage of the chamber. "What else do thee need sir William, than thine determination firm... thine mission and vision clear. Nothing else dost thee need apart from time. Treasure it dearly."

"Thank you; I will," William said. "And I will be more honest to those whose help I need; Andras first."

"That I can not help thee with. Look around if thee so wish, but do not cause trouble." Galliere answered before sitting down on a chair at a desk, placing a large book down at it before dipping an ink pen to begin writing something.
"Mayhaps the library holds the answers thee seek, sir William."

William smiled, and then began to head out of the room... Before turning back and asking one last question:

"One more thing, Galiere; there are rumors of the Priest who still owns this church being here. Where can he be found if it is allowed to seek him out?"

"Thou shalt have to ask King, sir William. He may answer more than I am allowed or prone to tell."

A nod at that. "Then I will ask King. Thanks!"
And with that, he left the room.

Royal Rumble!

The Tournament Begins

This was his 5th time hearing it now, the roar of the arena. Like harmonious thunder, like being engulfed by a hurricane and standing in the eye of the storm.

He had to wonder, hearing the cheers of the crowd, and looking back at the expressions of the other students of St. Laurel's, he wondered if anyone else saw the world the same way.

"St. Laurel's School of Academic Excellence!" Came the announcement.

The roar reached a crescendo as they entered the arena.

They marched forward with well-practiced steps. St. Laurel's were the bearers of the last year's mantle of championship. St. Laurel's boasted the record for most consecutive years keeping the mantle, as well as overall years holding the mantle. It was a heavy burden to bear, or so it should've been.

But in Alto's hands, it felt light. However, it wasn't because the pressure had been lightened. The burden was just as great as before, however now it teetered back and forth so unsteadily he could barely feel the weight of the flag he bore.

"Mephisto's School for the Wickedly Inclined…"

Opinions were mixed about Mephisto's. Most people didn't like their methods, obviously. But there were a surprisingly large amount of people that liked them. They fought dirty, and they had a very distinct presence on the battlefield. They had no reservations openly cheering for them, because after all, as far as they could tell Mephisto's was just a school with some weird quirks. They'd been able to rest the title from the hands of St. Laurel's, a feat no one before them had managed to do, despite the dubious nature of their victories.

The favour of the crowd was something they'd had to build up. They were good at riling up the crowd one way or another, but to make the fever pitch tip from anger to cheering required a fair amount of effort and preparation. Those cheerers of theirs were their allies, whether they knew it or not. If there were enough to balance the scales, then there was enough to tip them.

The mistake of the Tournament's board of directors was making the judgements subjective. Human judges could be swayed, in fact they were placed here exactly to be swayed. They still needed to win, however Clara would not let her advantage go to waste, no matter how small.

"And now the Vigilantes!"

The cheers halted. And then reignited into an even louder crescendo. If there were one group who reigned in the excitement of the crowd, it was the Vigilantes. Mix the under-dog nature of their group with having a healthy mix of dirty fighters and fair fighters from all around, it was no wonder they had no shortage of fans.

There had been rumours circulating before the tournament that they wouldn't be participating. This year. Indeed, the tournament entry fee was sort of a deterrent to rogue-like organizations like the Vigilantes. The price was relatively steep, but the government paid a portion depending on the nature of your organization, so it was far less expensive for educational institutions than for most other organizations. Yet it seemed that financial troubles hadn't fazed the Vigilantes at all.

They kept on coming, dozens of members, lined up behind their leader, King. Whether you believed his words or not, there was no denying he made himself in where he stood. He had the charisma to lead, and the sense to use it. He didn't need anything else.

The three leaders looked across at each other. It was just about a guarantee that they would be their team's leaders. In a few moments, this place would become their battlefield.

"Now let the Capture the Flag tournament begin!"

Royal Rumble!

The tournament's beginning soon, and the first post will be starting right when everything begins. To act as a primer, this post will contain all the rules of the tournament.

The main event of the tournament consists of a 3 on 3 capture the flag tournament in which every team currently registered in the tournament participates in. In fact, signing up for this event specifically is the base received for paying just the minimum to register a team. The other events are more or less for the larger schools to show off the quality of their students. Ranking can be gained here, but due to the unique nature of the main event, a person who didn't participate at all in any other events might have a chance to shoot past whoever scored first in all of them.

The battles will take place on a field roughly equal to a soccer field, with various walls and terrain to limit approach options. The field is symmetrical along the longer side. To win a match involves taking the enemy team's flag and reaching your team's home point while still holding the flag.

You can even take your team's flag, and use it as a weapon. Bopping someone with any part of it will activate a medium-strength repulsor shield which will knock enemies away. Planting it into the ground at any point will also create an impenetrable shield, only small enough to contain the user for a few seconds. You can only use the shield once per round.

The first rounds are fought as a best of 1, so if your team loses that round, that's it. Semi-finals and the finals will be a best of three. Winning in the quarter, semi, and final finals will gain you ranking even if you lose afterwards (can't lose after the final final round of course). The amount of ranking gained increases per level, but generally speaking you'll at least end up above the opponent you defeated.

The specific amount of ranking gained however, is decided by judges. You'll gain a certain amount of ranking depending on how they felt you performed in the match. This judgement can be based on performance in previous events, you can say that they build the expectation for your performance in the CtF tournament, but for the purposes of the RP it's not going to really affect much.

The faction leaders will be taking the role of team captains. Participating schools and organizations assign a leader for their teams. One leader can lead every team, or they can have many leaders for multiple teams.

Team leaders act as team coordinators for the most part, managing the team's communications and relaying tactics to proceed. They have an overhead map of the battlefield with their current team's positions, as well as the position of their flag. They can only see the battlefield through cameras affixed to an emblem on their teammates clothing. Taking out the emblem will also disable communications for that teammate.

Team leaders are judged based on how their team performed, and how much it seemed like the leader did to boost the performance.

That's about it for tournament rules. Quick note on rankings, I made one because it's a huge part of high school tournament stuff, but in the end I don't have a real good way of utilizing it, so for all intents and purposes ranking won't exactly give you anything in this RP, and probably isn't going to be tracked.

I'll try and get the tournament intro post done by the end of this week, and then once I've got the map sorted out we can start.

Royal Rumble!

Red Intentions

((Collab Post between RoflsMazoy and Letter Bee))

On Rhea's edge there lay a loe hill which made part of Rhea's wall. An urban island almost, surrounded by chain fences and barbed wire. Here were whew Rhea's most dangerous criminals were kept. Deep underground where the latest technology was used to hold all manner of powered criminals.

For some, regular power dampening wouldn't be enough. This place was also home to those criminals who couldn't be housed elsewhere. Today's story didn't take place in the depths of the compound, but above in a brightly lit interrogation room.

A middle-aged man with greying hair, wearing a red-suit and looking all the world like he'd only been arrested just moments ago. There was the signature hum of power dampening pylons, one of which was in the room sort of off to the side.

This was not the first interrogation. The man had come quite willingly in the first place, and had been happy to answer questions. None of the answers were anything that wasn't already known. It seemed he'd known them all ahead of time, in the end. There was no confession for any crime he'd been arrested for, and they were pending a trial as of this moment.

But the Ascot family had recently come into possession of some evidence which may have implied this man, Mephisto, was far more than they had assumed him to be. For the purposes of investigating this possibility, Alexander Ascot was here now.

The door opened to let in Alexander Ascot, now clad in his formal Juvenile Officer's uniform. Alexander would sit in front of Mephisto across a table, keeping his clipboard, ballpen, and notes close by. Taking a deep breath, the young man would say, "All right, Mephistopheles Erdigan, time for us to talk; I only have 90 minutes or so and I have to make this count."

His lips pursed. "From the looks of it, you've been a model prisoner, answering all the usual questions. Which is why I won't ask the usual questions. Instead, I'll just ask this - Do you truly count yourself as part of Rhean Society and on the side of Rhea, the City?"

Mephisto greeted the question with a warm smile.

"Ah, what a refreshing question! The officers here only ever want to know about my wrongdoings. It's always crime, this, crime that, and they never seem satisfied even if all the evidence is right in front of them." He said. "Although I will say that I don't quite understand where your question is coming from, I think I can provide a satisfactory answer."

He puffed out his chest and he seemed genuinely happy to receive the question from Alexander.

"First and foremost, I am a business man. I came to Rhea more than two decades ago to conduct business, and I'm not ashamed to say I fell in love with the city at first sight. Rhea is a place like no other. I decided to stay, and I even have a daughter now.

"I've become a full citizen of Rhea, and have some businesses which operate for the benefit of Rhea itself. My primary intention first and foremost is profit however, so unfortunately I can't say I'm on the 'side' of Rhea the city, but what businessman can?"

He chuckled a little at that statement.

"Rhea is just a city, after all. Society will go where the people go, and I do count myself as a person of these people. I must say, I really can't understand what your intention was with that question."

Alexander nodded, saying, "The intention is this; to tell you that if you regard yourself as part of Rhean Society, that the quest for profit must also profit other people than yourself or a small group of intimiates. Tax Fraud on such a scale, fraud, and other business that goes beyond legality, as well as the maintenance of a School that encourages the pursuit of base urges at the cost of other people...how do you justify this? How do you justify setting one of your students to murder another human being, or encouraging him to think you support such?"

A pause. "I believe you know who I am talking about."

Mephisto tilted his head quizically.

"I don't think I would say being part of a society includes benefiting all of it. That's not even including your accusations of me, but if you asked if I considered myself a 'member'. I am by definiton a member of society as someone who lives by it, criminal or no."

He said calmly.

"And I don't believe I know who you are talking about either. You've spoken quite badly about my 'school', but it all sounds like unfounded conjecture with no basis in reality. What cost are you referring to? What urges? What encouragement? I'd say it's quite bold to make so many assumptions without even a scrap of evidence."

He leaned back in his chair and sighed, as if he'd gotten bored of Alex now that he knew what he was going for.

" If there were some uninvolved bypasser here they'd call your words nonsense. Besides, my school is just that, a school. Am I supposed to be responsible for every action my students take? Am I supposed to monitor their every step? Their every move? If one of them commits a wrongdoing, you capture them and punish them, do you not? Or has the law changed in the few weeks since I've been imprisoned?"

Alexander had no time for sophistry and replied, "Let's cut to the chase. Vittorio Twinveil is one of your students. So is Galbrek Ravenovich. The first one tried to kill me as I got in the way of his vendetta against Alto, after several threats against the latter's life, while the second one tried to kill my mother by totaling her car. As the owner of the school, yes, you have an actual responsibility, if only because you are above the actual principal in the chain of command. The buck for not passing disciplinary action against Vittorio and Galbrek stops with you."

His eyebrows burrowed further into confusion.

"That first name doesn't exactly ring a bell. I don't know where you obtained your information from, but the more pressing matter is your pinning the blame on me. My school is not a correctional facility. It's against the law for me to force my students into a correctional facility. I am not their legal guardian, nor can I say I have been in a position of great influence for either of them. My hands are, quite literally, tied, and there is currently no longer anything I can do for them, or anyone for that matter.

"My personal assets remain frozen while my charges stand. My businesses can continue without me, but if you want them to do something, you'll need to go through my lawyer to do so. So with all that out on the table, what exactly do you want me to do?"

A gamble was needed to get even the tiniest bit of useful information here, and Alexander didn't like it. "I want to know why you admitted them into your School in the first place. I for one do not believe that you didn't know about their existing obsessions and fixations. And clearly, admitting them into your School was not about 'giving them an opportunity' or 'attempting to improve their situation'."

The gamble itself was revealed in the officer's next words, "There's a threat greater than the Ancient Evil coming; King is right and correct about that yet he is rectient about the nature of said threat. So anything that undermines the security of Rhea and denies valuable talent to those trying to defend the city cannot be tolerated. I have reason to believe that you admitted Galbrek and Vittorio, adopted Clara, and founded Mephisto's School for the Wickedly Inclined disregarding that fact at best, and trying to weaken the city with internal conflict between its magical youth at worst. And feel free to charge me with having an active imagination! The fact remains that Rhea's security is still undermined."

"So you came here knowing your conclusion already, and then asked me about things which you had already drawn in your conclusion, and then you didn't accept, consider, or refute any of what I'd said, and then you just gave me your conclusion? I take back what I said earlier. At least I had to figure out what they wanted out of me before. You just laid out your every intention and I didn't even have to ask. Let me spell it out for you,"

Mephisto said, suddenly serious.

"You just made an awful trade. For the opportunity to level accusations at me angrily, you gave me an insight into what you want, and why you want it. You showed me where your emotions lie, what you were hoping for, and your weaknesses.

"And for what? There was no guarantee I would give you anything. A negotiation is a battle of leverage, and you turned it into a negotiation as soon as you let me ask a question. You weren't in a position to make this move, Alexander Ascot, but you made it anyway."

Mephisto sighed again.

"You should cut your losses here. The fact of the matter is, you came here to level accusations at me with no evidence, to leverage a conclusion which can't stand up on its own. You have one and a half months until my trial to mount a case. Instead of gambling on a move which had such a low chance of success, I suggest trying to play your game on a board I can't reach."

Alexander nodded, his face an impassive mask, and said, "I admit defeat. But at least it's a defeat I can learn from."

He does not know that William is on his case. He does not know about William at all. And he most definitely does not know about my daugther.

He got up and walked towards the door, but not before looking at Mephisto one last time, impassive expression still on. Then he opened the door and left.

3...2...1...I feel like such a fool. But I will learn from this defeat.