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Inaere had never seen a more motley assortment of fools in all nineteen years of her life. A farmboy or whatever he was, a girl with pigtails, a girl with a dog, some guitarist-boy -- Oh, and Skorn knew what else. It was a laughable scene and one worth throwing your hands into the air at.

However, Inaere had a dirty secret. She was actually enjoying the scene now. A fifth swig of her special draught (Trisani ale) and she began to realize just how interesting and funny it all really was. In fact, she suddenly knew that she was going to like this place after all.

Besides, she'd heard rumors about people getting so drunk that they saw pink elephants -- but she was seeing pink bears. If Trisani had ale that strong, it was a place worth staying in.

Inaere took a sixth swig and ran a hand through Danny's hair, patting him on the head. "You're a damend genius, Danny. This town is perfect. There's enough booze here t'make a puppet show look's magnificent as a dragon." The pair was walking out of the auditorium at the moment (along with most all the accepted applicants) and Inaere wasn't bothering to lower her voice. The result was her words being magnified thricefold as they rose into the air. "And, y'know, there's some pretty-as-hell foliage here, too. Good to look at as ya relieve y'self, eh?"

As any wise child would, Danny put his fingers into his ears as Inaere talked. "And what in Skorn's name is a 'dorm'? If that's part of the house we're gettin'... Wait, we're gettin' a house?" Inaere stopped mid-walk, just narrowly avoiding bumping into someone, and stared down at Dan. He removed his fingers from his ears and blinked.

"... By the fathers of all the infernal bastard-sons of Gur'gash," said Inaere, her voice awed, "we're gettin' a house, aren't we, Dan?" Her expression was one of sheer amazement, her jaw dropping. She began to laugh a bit, then grabbed the now surprised child under the arms and lifted him into the air.

"It's about damned time we weren't sleeping in a tent or a two-copper shit-inn!" roared the woman, hugging the child close to her, the harp's cart rolling to a stop near her.

Danny, however, was not so pleased. He was in the present and... somewhere else, and neither was good. In the present, he was thoroughly disturbed. Regarding the past, his face appeared wistful. The child let out a short, unhappy cough, which caused Inaere to stop in her act of jubilance.

"... If anyone ever mentions this," she whispered to Danny, "I'm killin' them." Then, Inaere quickly set the boy down in front of his cart and walked outside to meet with the senior students.

"Alright, where in Hell is our house and where in Hell is the mess hall?"

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FACT:

Ayaka felt herself perk up, changing from frowning towards the ground to a sort of suppressed joy. Hearing her name get called, well more of hearing it awkwardly roll off the tongue of the woman announcing names, was more than she ever could have wished for. Her mother was hoping to death Ayaka would make it into the academy, "At least someone in this family will be respectable!" She would always say when Ayaka talked about thinking about applying to River's End. She hadn't wanted to disappoint her mom, she was just trying to reaffirm within herself that this was something that she wanted, not something she was doing for someone else. Honestly, why would she want to work so hard for something she didn't truly want for herself?

Being pulled out of her thoughts, she had remembered the woman's instructions, standing up, her long thick golden curls suspended by the aqua colored orbs, curls that hung down to her shoulders gently brushed off of said shoulders and fell behind her. She gracefully and elegantly strode to the back of the auditorium, getting swallowed up by the crowd those who were students and those who wanted to be students. She almost felt sort of bad for those who didn't make it, but then again, they tried out just the same as her, it wasn't her fault if they were simply denied.

Pushing that thought aside, she finally got out of the auditorium and made her way to a group of students that looked to be seniors, she was pretty sure they were anyway, as other people who had gotten accepted seemed to be grouping there as well. She shyly made her way over to the group of seniors, awaiting her schedule and escort. It was like being a little fish in a big pong all over again, except this pond was more like an ocean.

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Could he have, Raleigh would have whooped with joy at hearing his name being called across the room. Instead he simply threw his arms up and leaned backwards, laughing a silient laugh. The stress lifted of his shoulders in that second seemed collosal, his sore joints from the days travel somewhat soothed. He stood, looking around at the others whose faces became lit with joy and smiled. Soon enough though, the calling of accepted students was finished, leaving a heafty majority with down-trodden looks and teary eyed faces. All Raleigh could offer them was a sigh as he grabbed the thick rope of his cart and trudged onwards to the auditorium.

He'd never seen such a massive room in his life, his eyes sparkling at the thought of playing in such a room. The girl in front of him, who walked with a younger boy, was talking quite loudly which sort of ruined the moment, but her voice carrying across the room only made Raleigh more eager to see how his music would roam across all the empty space and bounce off the walls. He was so distracted by his thoughts he nearly bowled the girl over when she came to a sudden halt. He cringed a bit as the piano came sliding into his back, but his smile was quickly restored by the girl snatching up the lad and giving him a hug. He stood silent and waited for them to continue moving, following in their wake. It was a perhaps a good thing Raleigh could not speak, as the girl sounded quite serious about killing anyone who mentioned the affectionate display.

Lee wasn't sure whether to feel overwhelming joy at the prospect of being accepted, of being able to move on, learn more about that which gave her sight, even if not in the most basic sense...or empty sadness at living away from her mother. Since she was born, the longest time she'd spent away from Ariane was a few days, going to the market to trade wool and cloth and things like that.

There was something special about Ariane. It was she with whom she'd learned to 'see' people when they spoke. When Ariane spoke to her, kissed or touched her, she could see Ariane's bright eyes, friendly and firm, like her strong hands. She could see the woman's dark hair, peppered with silver a face creased with laughter and stern frowns.

For a moment, Leony was tempted to decline, to go back and tell her mother she hadn't been accepted, and she'd have to wait, maybe years, to go back. But that would be feeling sorry for herself, turning her back on something she'd earned for selfish reasons. That wouldn't be finding happiness for herself or giving it to others. And mother wouldn't abide that.

So, Lee gave Roe a long hug, then, one hand on his head, allowed him to lead her to the auditorium. As soon as she stepped in, she knew it was large. She could vaguely make out the walls, but the vaulted ceiling was beyond her, and moreover, she could hear by the sounds of the distant, sweeping echoes that the place as more than cavernous.

"Roe," she whispered, a smile in her voice. "Roe, you mustn't bark when we're in this room, alright? That little piece of you would wander for centuries and never find a wall, and we don't have time to sit around her waiting for it to find us again."

She grinned, hearing other voices--well, other voice--in the room. A girl's voice, who, by the sound of things, was roughly her own age. She sounded the kind of girl who knew exactly what she wanted, and how to get it. She also sounded like the kind of girl you didn't want to keep that thing from, if you had it. She wondered briefly if the girl was musician here, but dismissed that thought quickly. The girl didn't sound as though she needed a piano, guitar, flute, or otherwise to make herself known.

Lee made a point of introducing herself at one point or another.

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Phillipe rose from his seat and moved to the back of the chamber. His green eyes danced about as the newcomers reacted to being selected [or not selected]. He felt a pity for some but most went whimsically by as he studied the ‘fresh meat’. As head of house, it was his responsibility to show the newcomers around. He had already spotted a few in his group and was eager to begin. After all, it had been hours… and hours… and hours since he had first arrived to watch the try-outs.

He made himself a beacon atop the main aisle. Handsome devil that he was, he made sure to put on his best smile and hummed a tune he knew very well softly to himself. As the crowd began to disperse and the junior students mingled towards the seniors, Philippe unleashed a gracious note that started very low and rose steadily and with great control to the upper end of his range somewhere in the low upper alto region. Light radiated from him and warmth spread with the glow. He drew his eyes around making sure to wave Ayaka and Iyria over as he caught them wavering for direction. As the breath within him began to fade, he drew the note back into himself reducing its volume. Just before his about to stop it, he lifted his voice to a falsetto fifth and the light became white and gold moths that flew away as the sound faded from the ears of those nearby.

Phillipe, satisfied with his display, clapped his hands together a few times and then raised them in the air. “Those wishing to find the House of Life should come to me.” He winked at another senior student who obviously was not pleased with Phillipe’s egotistical display. He then let his eyes fall back towards the oncoming group. He had hoped that this year would be as fun as the last few had been.

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The first word had barely left her lips when it was met with the sound of a dull, fleshy thud that preceded a hail of three wooden knocks, muffled through the thick door.

Low amber flames cast the majestic room in dimly-lit shadows, flickering this way and that across the walls of books, their edges faded with time and wear. That single flame upon the massive mahogany desk did little to illuminate the farther reaches of the office, where ornamental instruments of all sorts lay about haphazardly on their fixtures, more often used than observed or admired. What was perfectly lit, however, was the tower of parchments that lay scattered across the desk in varied levels of disorder. Though substantially lower than it had been at the outset of the festival, cluttered stacks of unsigned lesson plans and unapproved schedules silently demanded his attention. A Maestro's work, it would seem, was never done.

Luckily for this Maestro, however, his focus wasn't on his responsibilities. Instead, those wide and animate sapphires were on the four colored spheres that flew through the air before him, guided by his dexterous hands. Red, yellow, cobalt, green, and red again, his nimble digits juggled the balls in the air before him with the steady grace of an experienced gleeman. A few gentle tones blown through his oboe could have just as easily danced the wooden orbs, if not easier, but long hours at work while the world outside got to play drew Caltrin's eyebrows to furrow and his smile to wane.

This, however, a return to his humble beginnings as a street performer, eased his anxious muscles and soothed his mind. So much so, in fact, that Raina's voice, syrupy sweet and just as smooth, startled him from his revelry. Flustered hands overshot the red ball to send it knocking against his left temple, and it was all he could do to throw up his hands in defense at the rain of fist-sized bullets as they fell from their pattern to knock, one, two, three, against the marble floor. What pain, guilt and surprise he should have felt was engulfed in the overwhelming sense of elation that darted through him then, shooting upright in his seat to stare at the door.

It's her!

Through the wood she could make out the sounds of parchments shifting and fluttering, whipping through the air to the accompaniment of clatter against the marble.

Palm to the parchment, paper and stationery alike flew as Caltrin vaulted over the desk. Just barely missing the candle's orange tongue, his loose-fitting garb and jerkin ruffled from the nimble motion.

The resonant build of drumming came soon after; doubtlessly the stubborn Maestro was working in poorly-lit conditions, despite her constant reminding otherwise.

Drumsticks fell like rain against the taut skin of the bowl-shaped instrument, rat-a-tat-tat. The pattern he played, tongue to his lips in idle concentration, sent the singular flame of that lone candle to swell and expand. Building to a triumphant finale, that short-lived rhythm ended with a loud clap of both sticks against the skin; with a whispering hiss all of the remaining candles in the room burst into life, casting the expansive office in their honey-gold glow.

The jogging plod of boots against the marbletop, growing louder as their wearer made his way to the door and then... silence.

A breath to steady himself, a moment for repose. For Light's sake, Caltrin, calm yourself! You'd think you've been away from her for months! As lithe digits righted the collar of his forest green shirt and straightened the pleats of his slacks, a smile sneaked onto his smooth, boyishly handsome face. Muses take me, but it has felt like it, hasn't it? Unable to stand another moment of the anticipation, he gripped tightly the handle and opened the door.

Raina!

The words could not, would not ever leave his lips, but one wouldn't know it, seeing the expression of sincere delight on the young man's face. At twenty seven, the Maestro of River's End somehow managed to look like a lad again, arriving just in time to escort his childhood sweetheart to the Winter Fair. As strands of the purest blue fell about his face, one of the many unexplained oddities Caltrin proudly sported, his eager-yet-anxious sapphire eyes found her gaze. In that moment, she was the only person in the world to him, drinking in the sight of her as a thirsting man did water. A breathless sigh accompanied a disbelieving shake of his head, the faintest of blushes touching his cheeks.

Ms. Trelavé, you look simply stunning.

As though he'd suddenly realized he was all but staring, he drew his fingers back to scrub away at the unruly azure strands that threatened to veil his gaze and took a step back into the room. A wide gesture bid her to enter, excited and expectant eyes asking her for the news he was sure she was just as eager to tell. Welcoming her into his office, he guided her to the leather-bound chairs that made up his sitting area and awaited her to choose her sofa before he took to his recliner. Go on, he seemed to entice, tell me everything.

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Robyn raised an eyebrow as she surveyed the collection of new students from where she was leaning against a pillar in a picture of nochalance.

"So," she said dryly, "You are the new selection of motley brats who are going to annoy me to hell and damnation. Which ones of you are Sparkers?"

She ran a hand through her shoulder length copper coloured hair and straightened up. Robyn had always been a thin young woman, probably owing to her frequent disregard and disdain for food and the consumption of. Despite being thin, she was not malnourished, and she was fit. Robyn was the sort of person who would get up at Sunrise and go for a nine kilometre run every single day, back in her old town, she had always been trying to out-do the local lads.

Her eyes were a sort of tawny gold colour, their former brown bleached away by frequent passionate playing of her instrument as a younger person and letting her powers roam freely. Since coming to the school she had learnt how to control her playing, but her eyes remained a disconcerting amber. She was pale, and yet lightly tanned from so much time outside, and her fingers were very long and very thin. They were pianists hands. Her nails were long and neatly cut, but Robyn had been known to use them as weapons, on occasion.

There was a long, thin scar along the side of Robyn's left arm, it was an old wound that she did not like to think or speak about.

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Clicky for Kate ---v---

Crisp, clear, heavenly notes sounded through the air, weaving there way around as though the notes themselves were people dancing in an elegant hall. Not one thought passed through the mind, not a care in the world could possibly disrupt this flow of music so precious to the musician. But, this peace didn’t last long as the sound of many a voice drifted upward, almost drowning out the song of the white silver flute. “Ah yes, the new arrivals to the academy. How could I forget about such a thing?” said a breezy voice that passed through ruby painted lips. Looking down at the new faces with bright purple spheres, she giggled at remembering the time when it was her first day at the blessing that was River’s End. That feeling of being accepted into a world of music and magic, feeling like she finally belonged with people that she could relate to had made her giddy that day.

Rushing down towards them, the breeze seeming to follow close behind, Sunset could see the other two senior students, each gathering up their share of new students. With flute in hand, she stopped just on the other side of Robyn, nodding her head in a way of saying hello. She did the same gesture towards Phillipe before turning to face the freshmen. “Any of those that wish to make home in Aeolus Hollow to practice the magic of wind should follow me.” Sunset’s purple eyes looked as though they flashed with excitement as she turned on her heel, skirt with a mix of garnet and ruby reds twirling around the hips in gentle folds, and looked over her shoulder to see which batch of students would follow. Of course, with this being their first day, it would most likely be nothing but hell. A smirked formed at this thought, but the back of a hand hid this well.

Once again, she glanced at the other two seniors whom she’d seen and conversed with now and again. The look she was giving them was, in a way, saying ‘good luck’. But then again, they didn’t it at all. “Come now, woodwind users, the Hollow is this way” she told them, going up a flight of stairs, and turning to wait patiently at the top for them. Aeolus Hollow was almost the top most part of the school, which only made sense due to the workings and teachings behind woodwinds. Sunset would explain this all in good time to the nervous freshmen, but she would let them get used the their surrounding before showing off the brilliance of the academy as they explored their new home.

An awkward cough, forced in its obvious attempt to gather attention, came from behind the group. There stood young Donell, all limbs and length, yet with his hunched shoulders and perpetually downcast eyes he seemed of average height. He licked nervously at his thin lips, peeling back the wavy curls of dark mahogany that fell to cover his eyes. The only thing about him that spoke of power and skill were the telltale uniform of the Senior Student, more militant and form-fitting than the looser garb of Junior students. "I-if Earth students, th-that is to say, any of you who play a Brass instrument, c-could follow me, we will begin the tour of Ri-ri-ri... Ri-ri... the Academy s-soon." A scowl passed over his face like a shadow, annoyed at his own speech impediment. "R-right this way." Gathering the few studentS who had paid attention to his announcement, Donell began to lead them from the auditorium, already a few sentences into a welcoming speech he'd obviously practiced for d-d-days.

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She could hear it, no, she could feel it.

"Is someone... Calling me?" she whispered to herself, looking all over the room, she slowly allowed her gaze to drift across the shuffling bodies, analyzing one person after another for the source of that feeling. She then saw him, a senior on the other side of the room who seemed to be calling for her. She then noticed he was also motioning for her to come closer with his hand. She did so and began a confident stride across the room, weaving in and out of the bodies of other students.

Approaching the senior who had been summoning her, she reached him and bowed graciously.

"Hello, my name's Ayaka Komatsu." She said slightly nervously, looking around to see if any others were coming this way.

"The House of Life?" she asked, Ayaka knew she had applied to be a student under the magical musical styling of vocals, but she must have not been paying attention when anyone said something about "Life". Is that what she was going to be studying? Either way it sounded so interesting, the senior boy who had just called all the students of Life, which probably meant anyone who was accepted for their skill with their voice, looked like a fairly confident kind of guy who seemed to be hiding something all the time. She tried not to make any sort of judgements before she got to know him but it was just so hard. She just then noticed the vastness of the room they were in. The walls made her feel like if she said another word that they would steal her voice and bounce it back and forth for centuries!

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