[identity profile] focusedfate.livejournal.com
[Today if you happen to be walking around inside the Garden, you may hear the faint strains of music--someone, it would seem, is playing the piano. The first few notes are a little hesitant, but as it continues, the music grows more confident and smoother. It's almost as if the pianist once played quite often but is now just coming off of a rather long playing hiatus. Really, once the individual settles into his groove, he's quite good.

If you follow said music through the hallways, you'll find yourself at the door of the music room. Inside, you'll find Cid seated at the piano; it doesn't look like he'll mind if he ends up with an audience.
[identity profile] bratbeyond.livejournal.com
[If anyone had visited the infirmary these past few weeks, they might've seen a little lifeless kid lying there in one of the beds. Supposedly, right after finals, he'd fallen into a deep sleep and refused to wake up.

Until now. Suddenly gasping for air, Damian immediately sits upright. He's... he's... in the infirmary? He furrows his brows and glances around the room for any clues. The last thing he remembered, he'd been taking finals... and then...

Then he'd been whisked back home. How long had it been? Six months? Twelve?

Slag, Time Compression really hated him. Why else would it drag him back into Garden after experiencing all that? After meeting Green Arrow and Zachary Zatara and that weird Jewish kid who claimed he was Kryptonian... in the context of Garden, it really didn't make much sense. He leans forward, arching his back and trying his best to suppress a sigh as he stares down at his clothes. Dammit, TC! If it's going to whisk him back, at least whisk him back with clothes that actually fit.]

... Here again? Guess I haven't had enough yet.

[A few hours later, there's a brief post on the BBS system:]

Does anyone have the latest issue of that sky pirate comic?? I wanted to buy one over the break, but it sold out before I could. :| That and the one about steampunk mechanics. They're both pretty schway.

Also I think I might need to go shopping. I don't really want to, but nothing really fits. Not even my uniform. 8( So what the slag'm I supposed to buy?

- Damian

[ooc | Damian just went through an canon-updating coma! This basically means that he's a whole year older... and in dire need of a new wardrobe, welp, since he's about 2 inches taller than when everyone last saw him. :c]
[identity profile] kissmydamask.livejournal.com
Right, so I can't be the only one who's noticed that things are getting... a little out of hand, what with the scorch marks, the goo, the Quad pies, the random explosions, the monster dung, the cats --

I'm just going to pre-empt you all and ask what needs to be cleaned up.

- Garden Staff

By the way, can we stick to blowing up cakes and not the toilets? I'm serious, no one's going to be happy if I end up marking those out of bounds.

[Sounds like someone's jogging along the ceiling! Oh, but wait, that would be defying gravity -- oh, but wait, the Prince doesn't care about that.

Look up and receive a faceful of scarf:

> Yes
> No
> How about a falling Prince instead?

Careful, he's kind of heavy...]

(OOC: Thanks to the superpowers event, the Prince gets to reject gravity at will whenever he decides to go wallrunning/ceiling crawling/Spidermanning -- well, moreso than usual. Expect to see him abuse this at every given opportunity.

Please let me know if you'd rather avoid having the Prince falling on your character -- if it just makes things awkward and unfunny, then we can skip that. Also, he'll be making an extra effort not to crash down on any women. Menfolk, however, are in for it.

ALSO ALSO kids on detention, feel free to jump in and complain. He'll be calling on you for help :|b)

5 ☣ boom

Sep. 3rd, 2011 09:57 pm
[identity profile] freewolfmoon.livejournal.com
[Until a moment ago, there was a small tree at this corner on the Quad.


Someone just unleashed some kind of strange concussive blast nearby it. It is now in two pieces.

Quite nearby, there is an elf, lacking his usual tattoos and looking rather shell-shocked. Oh, and he's glowing in the evening dark and floating a good foot or so off the ground.

Do you approach?]


Aug. 28th, 2011 06:03 pm
[identity profile] ukidokiotaku.livejournal.com
I have returned!

I was a little later than I hoped, but a girl had to make a stop on her way back. As for all the new Cadets that I haven't met yet, I'm Renge Houshakuji and from today I'll be teaching all of you Speech & Conduct. I even have the outfit picked out for when I teach my very first class so you better like it.

I am curious though as to what has happened during my absence? Did I miss anything good?
[identity profile] waylights.livejournal.com
ATTN: students in SPC 101 and ROC 101

I apologize, but I must absent myself from class for the next few days due to illness. A subsitute professor will be provided, and in the case of SPC 101, this will not affect your upcoming finals. Any questions concerning the material covered so far should be forwarded to the substitute, and if not, posted here or slipped under my office door to be reviewed as soon as I am able.

- Instructor Elika


[ Elika is laid up in her room, skin ash-gray from the pain that she's been carrying for a few days now. It flickers on and off, in increasingly powerful bursts. At first she grit her teeth and managed, but it's become so unbearable lately she's been forced to take leave.

What's worse is that no one in the infirmary could see signs of anything wrong: no redness, no welts or swelling, nothing strange in the blood or skin, no change in diet or exercise. Eventually, forced to admit they couldn't find a cause, they sent her back to her room with orders to rest.

The pain is strongest in the throat and chest, but it snakes all the way to her arms and even her feet. She would normally use her magic to dull the pain, but her powers seem weakened by the illness. Seems all she's got left to do is bear it until it passes. Come visit her with well-wishes? ]
[identity profile] kissmydamask.livejournal.com

Hey Garden.

Guess what.

You're now trapped in the elevator.

Maybe you were too lazy to take the stairs; maybe you just needed to get somewhere and this was the quickest way from A to B, despite the janitor's warnings (and the signs on every floor).

Whatever the reason, it's too late! You're stuck in here. The lights are out, none of the buttons are working (or maybe they're jammed?), and it's unlikely you'd be able to pry open the doors — this elevator is one sturdy son of a gun, and between floors, there's nowhere to go.

Anyway... who's that with you?]

Cut for meme-speak! )
wrnpcs: (Default)
[personal profile] wrnpcs
[Night has fallen on Balamb Garden; the halls of Garden are mostly deserted besides the stray student walking about, and even the usual faculty members are missing from their posts around the school. There's a certain festive energy through the air, the source coming from the happily decorated Ballroom located on the second floor.

At exactly 2100, as soon as the dinner rush ends, the Garden chime sounds and the intercom clicks on. The Headmaster speaks to the Garden.

The Homecoming Dance is now beginning. Your attendance is requested at [2F] Ballroom.

I repeat, the Homecoming Dance is now beginning. Your attendance is requested at [2F] Ballroom. The ball will run until 2400. Students leaving the ball after curfew are to return to their dorms immediately.

The ball and its festivities tonight are being sponsored very generously by the Garden Festival Committee.

[After the announcement, the intercom falls silent. The faint sound of music can be heard from the second floor of the building.]

A mod note )
[identity profile] waylights.livejournal.com
OPTION 1: training centre

[ Elika is having fun keeping juuuust out of reach of a t-rexaur's massive teeth, dodging, rolling and flipping out of range, making it turn around and around in an effort to keep up with her. She dashes forward beneath its belly and whirls, vaulting over the sweep of its tail and onto its back. It tries to thrash her off, but she climbs, using its crest as handholds until she stands, balancing on the monster's head. Her fist glows briefly, before she brings it down with a swift crack--right between the exhausted creature's eyes.

Stunned, the beast goes down. Elika easily leaps off and tumbles into a crouch, watching the animal go crashing onto its side. No, it isn't dead, and she isn't going to kill it. Others are welcome to 'finish it off for her', if they so wish. ]

OPTION 2: quad

[ Sunday afternoon and Elika is enjoying the sunshine. Sitting on the steps, she has an acoustic guitar on her lap and is practising, a sheaf of scores lying next to her. She's not the most advanced, but she's far from terrible. She's at that particularly awkward intermediate level where she's good enough that people want to request things, but she isn't confident enough in her technique to try. Come bother her anyway? ]

[[ooc. just put your desired scenario in your subject line and we're good to go!]]
[identity profile] nvrstrikestwice.livejournal.com
[Scenario A: Morning]

[Anyone who decides to come into the cafeteria on this fine morning may just find Lightning at a table near the back, an empty plate near a notepad as she jots down notes. Anyone who gets close will see that it's a lesson plan for her classes, but there's a second smaller pad half hidden under it with words like "doubles?" and what look to be tactical plans for...something. It's all in abbreviations, making it ridiculously hard to make out, and it's unlikely that she'll talk about that one.]

[Scenario B: WTR 301 Class; 1400 to 1500 hours]

[Good afternoon, class. Feel free to walk in on your pink-haired teacher doing some last minute gun checks on that row of handguns you can see on a low counter, while a few meters behind there's another counter with cans of varying height and width. Once everyone's in the class and seemingly ready for this, Lightning will gesture over to the cans.]

You'll be shooting these today. The fewer shots you use to take them all down, the better.

[No nonsense tone is get; Instructor Farron isn't playing games, but...then again...when does she play games?]

[Scenario C: after class]

[With classes over and notes attended to until late in the night, anyone who finds their way to the Quad will find Lightning sitting on a bench, performing routine maintenance on one of these, seemingly without a care to the world around her. Feel free to approach and ask her just what kind of weapon that is, or to just stare. Though that second option is likely to get you an odd look, she won't bite.

No promises on the lack of linefacing, though. She does that a lot.]

[ooc: interact where you please~ just stick which scenario in the subject line and you're good to go!]
[identity profile] ofherfate.livejournal.com
[Stacked in her arms are books. She may have read these particular books multiple times already during her stay at Garden before leaving to travel the world, but they have always been her favorite in terms of politics. Padmé's on her way from the library and cautiously weaving her way through the cadets towards the quad to exit out into the courtyard to read under the sun.

Padmé's dressed in an elegant choice, clothing she was transported in, with her hair half pinned back and the rest left to hang in loose curls around her shoulders. She looks to be managing just fine, but feel free to walk with her if any instructors wish to or if there are any cadets in (or interested in taking) her two courses; (PSI 101) Political Science & (INT 101) International Relations.
tortileghostwriter: (Default)
[personal profile] tortileghostwriter
[First, a private message...]

PM to Jade Strider )

[And then public.]

for better or for worse it seems ive been roped into this ridiculous date auction
while ill deal with the cause of the problem i suppose that while my presence as part of the proceedings is bothersome to say the least it cant hurt to entertain it
the banquet doesnt start until i enter the mead hall after all

on a much lighter note garden allow me to share a particular track with you all
it comes from the album that changed the face of drum and bass forever
ladies and gentlemen prepare
to hold

- tortileGhostwriter

[And then an audio embed, courtesy of a file transfer from the Hubtop...]


[After all of this, David can be found in the Training Center. As opposed to his standard saber, or the weapon with a remarkable resemblance to a lightsaber, he's holding something...different. A scimitar with a black blade, crackling with energy, looking less like it was there and more like a scar on the world, like dead pixels and is it shifting? A group of monsters is across from him. He holds the junctioning device in his offhand, looking at it for a moment. The name "YGGDRASIL" still stands out on the interface. Better to be sure...

He junctions her.]

Little solace comes...


To those who grieve...

[Darkness descends. The temperature in the room drops to precisely freezing.]

When thoughts keep drifting...

[The walls, floor, and ceiling of the room turn black. Featureless.]

As walls keep shifting...

[Vast endless corridors open up on the walls.]

And this great blue world of ours seems a house of leaves...

[A spiral staircase forms behind him, leading down somewhere. Who knows where. A noise like a low growl becomes audible throughout the room.]

moments before the wind.


[A sound comes, like the shifting of great tree limbs, like a great rustling of paper. A great hulking thing, vaguely human and female in shape but clearly monstrous, a face like a mask, bearing a smile like empty windows. A vast cloak of paper, long arms, with hands that were less hands now and more tentacle-like claws. A soft, definitely female voice, came almost like a whisper.]

David dear, don't be afraid...

[He dismissed her. Quickly. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he couldn't deal with her actually being present. The room swiftly returned to normal appearance and temperature, the light and heat returning. Now, to deal with the monsters.

Simple enough.]

[OOC note: Though it's a YouTube embed OOCly, for IC purposes, it's audio.]
[identity profile] freewolfmoon.livejournal.com
[Lunch is almost over, and cadets are just starting to filter (reluctantly or otherwise) back to their classes when a distinctive newcomer walks in from the front gate. Take your pick of what makes him so distinctive: the spiky black armor and huge sword slung across his back, the tense scowl, or the pointed ears. He moves slowly at first, with a tension-filled caution, but picks up speed as he makes his way into the lobby. In one hand he holds a course catalog--at a slight distance from his body, as if he finds it distasteful. He finally stops not far from the directory.]


[The foreign word is spat out in a low and bitter voice like the swear it probably is. Then his hand tightens on the course catalog, the sharp claw-like fingers of his gauntlet puncturing it, and with a jerk of his arm he flings it off to the side. But none of the tension leaves his body, and when he strides forward to scan the directory, he continues to glower.]

They do not lie, I see. Their Garden even spreads out like a wheel, the better to crush the weak beneath it.

[Fenris is rarely in a good mood, but the past few days of acclimatizing to this new world, learning what goes on within it, and resigning himself to accompanying Balamb Garden in its travels have left him more bitter than ever. This is hell, and he is not out of it.]


Jul. 16th, 2011 08:44 am
[identity profile] kissmydamask.livejournal.com
Languages. I know you all speak them. Doesn't matter if you're using the translator or not, chances are you're speaking and writing in something.

I'm gonna need to know what that is, how well you do it, and if you can handle more than one.

This is just out of curiosity — no need to panic, unless you're the punk who left the Latin on the ceiling in the men's.

I'm onto you.

(OOC: No he's not. Feel free to attribute that graffiti to your character if it suits, though!

Also, Instructors/SeeDs/staff! This is your chance to bombard the Prince with clean-up requests. Don't worry if they seem small or insignificant, the Prince has a job to do and you're just ~*~helping him out~*~. The sillier, the better!)
[identity profile] shotgunbunny.livejournal.com
[Teaching is quite a pleasure. So many brilliant students who work hard to hone their skills, and yet some who prefer to crack jokes and laze about. Well, Fran doesn't like it, but then, she doesn't give much warning, when their grades go to them and they see that they need to make definite room for improvement.

She's found that all it takes to convince a few troublemakers to shape-up is to fit a bow with a thin-pointed, tough, arrow, and let them watch as it tore into set target after target. Easily impressed by danger, she's found.

For now, she's trying to think of what work she will assign for the next class. She doesn't want to continue running through training when she could introduce her students to slightly difficult, but flowing tactics. She will have to voice her thoughts with the headmaster...see if he has any suggestions.

...after she finishes hitting target after target with her bow and arrow in the training room.




the arrows go.]
[identity profile] bat-cookies.livejournal.com
It was his way of alerting the others of his presence quietly. His hot butter raisin scones were popular back in Wayne Manor and they did have a distinctive taste and smell. Alfred left the door between the cafeteria and the kitchen open although not conspiculously so. Just a tiny bit to encourage company.

He knew he'd be expecting them shortly. If you were to walk in you would see a middle age man taking some buns out of the oven. Strangely he wears white gloves, even under his oven mitts, and he's much more formal looking than an ordinary cook would be.

Without even turning around he tells you, "Please, do come in."
[identity profile] kingslain.livejournal.com
[Rasler's no stranger to what's said on his acceptance letter in hand, although he is somewhat surprised at Balamb's use of sponsors. That's definitely new to him, he doesn't recall Galbadia ever doing things that way. He's already paused at the directory to get a feel for where the dorms and the cafeteria and training area all are, and so he's currently making his way to the dorms section now.

With a backpack of his possessions and clothing slung over a shoulder he might look like any other newcomer but while wearing a Galbadia Garden jacket (partially left open at the collar), there's something a little off about him if he's wearing a uniform that belongs to another Garden.

Rasler slows to a stop.

Another look down to read what's on his letter and he flips open his course catalog. It says he can do whatever he wants with his free time and take some extra classes here at Balamb while waiting for his field exam-- maybe he'll look into it.

If it means he'll be one step closer to returning to Ivalice.
[identity profile] focusedfate.livejournal.com
[Cid was, in all truth and honesty, not an usual visitor to the training center. He took no real pleasure from killing the monsters here, as it tended to only remind him of the brand he bore; Cid far preferred other methods of training, methods that didn't involve magic and the like.

And yet, here he was.

The original plan had been to come here to fight and get his mind off of things, but that had failed rather spectacularly. Sure, Cid had taken out all the Grats that he had come across, but now that he had a T-rexaur standing before him, he felt like doing little more than keeping it dazed. All excitement vanished after the beast succumbed, and it was just a matter recasting the spell when necessary after that. Cid idly tossed a few ruins at the beast before becoming bored of even that and casting doom on it.

He sighed heavily as the spell slowly but surely counted down. His mind was clearly elsewhere.
[identity profile] bratbeyond.livejournal.com
I've tried asking the teachers this already, but it looks like I'll need tutors this Quarter. Again. Not for languages this time - unless any of you know Japanese - but for actual classes I'm taking this Quarter, like Boxing, Survival Skills, and the "age appropriate" math classes I've been forced to take.

If anyone's interested, let me know. I'll pay you well in something, even if it isn't in cash.

- Damian

[Sometime later today, after he's made his BBS post, Damian's chilling in the Quad underneath a shady tree. (There's even a banner for "VOTE AANG FOR HOMECOMING PRINCE" over his head.) He's got a math textbook on his lap and a pencil in his hand as he's attempting to do math homework. Judging by the amount of eraser shavings, it looks like he's struggling a little bit... with basic 7th grade math.

There's also an old-fashioned (by Damian's standards) phone lying a little to his side, but it's not immediately obvious until someone's sitting next to him. As it is, he's not really aware it's there. After a moment, he hits the back of the tree in frustration... and immediately sticks his hand in his mouth. Right. Some things just can't be solved with violence.]
feedmyglitch: (♥ Sora: Feral grin)
[personal profile] feedmyglitch
Greetings once more. Before, I have asked you about the heart and friendship. Today, I give you a change of pace.

How is it you decide someone is your enemy? Why is it that you humans are so easily consumed by hatred and desperation? So much negativity, you truly make it easy enough for me to feed. And all of that darkness... It truly is hard to keep from devouring some poor soul's heart. But that's another topic altogether. I digress.

Why are you humans so full of such negative emotions as opposed to positive emotions? It seems almost detrimental to survival.

[[OOC: School staff with the access, feel free to put a name to ID#, if that's possible, to get on to him.]]


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