It was a nice surprise having the staff member approve of Mallory's actions during the conflict between the two chimeras. She responded to the woman's gratitude with an appreciative nod, though Mallory made it in her best interest to not look too flattered for simply doing the most logical thing in a such a situation. Had she been sitting at the far ends of the cafeteria, Mallory wouldn't have even been in the position to stop things from getting ugly, let alone be bothered to.
But this time, Mallory had no choice but to take up such a position. And frankly, what the horned chimera had said was quite the shock.
Soon, breakfast would be over. Mallory took one last sip of water as she heard the blaring announcement coming from one of the professors. In simple terms, Mordhaben was absolutely stunning.
Especially the Arts Building, oh, it was truly a sight to behold. Mallory hadn't seen anything like it before, and the image of something so different, something out of her initial understanding for plant life and extravagant architecture, had her ecstatic; the exploration possibilities were endless. One of the examples of exotic plant life that had caught her eye was a gorgeous blue flower glowing under a nearby tree, which Mallory proceeded to simply poke without any harmful intentions. It was clear some of the plants in this area were only meant to be admired from a distance, Mallory would soon learn as she was blasted in the face with a bright blue powder. Coughing and sputtering and dusting off her hair, she soon found out it wasn't a substance that would stubbornly stick to her clothes, thankfully.
"Well, I hope that wasn't poisonous," Mallory muttered to herself, simply continuing to walk on as if nothing had happened. A few students seemed to be giving her odd looks, though she didn't look bothered about it at all.
The group of new students would then be led into the courtyard, and Mallory, modestly munching on the biscuits she had been given, continued to analyse her unfamiliar surroundings. Although she had a taste for the more extravagant things life had to offer, Mallory appreciated the quaint and relaxed feel this area gave off. The Research Institute she would soon find herself in was also a place of note, and Mallory made sure to remember it. Worryingly enough, she seemed to look particularly enthusiastic at the mention of 'projects' and 'experiments', which was made prominent by some of the disturbed faces of the other students.
The Athletics Compound was also a point of interest to Mallory. Despite her pale skin being like that of a sickly young child, the girl had a certain affinity for physical activity and sport. And oddly enough, she enjoyed doing such things. Although Mallory liked the quiet moments where she could relax by herself and mentally recharge, she liked to spend her time actually being active. Exercising and maintainig a fit and healthy figure was one of her more understandable habits.
The tour came to an end much quicker than Mallory expected, though being on the receiving end of intense info dumping tended to warp her perception of time. Weariness began to sink into her bones, and soon the girl was dying to have something plentiful to eat. Hopefully this time around her meal wouldn't be so abruptly... disturbed.
But before that, an announcement about roommates was quickly made.
Mallory glanced around. She wasn't even the slightest bit familiar with any of the students here, save for the boy she had met earlier in the day, and who she assumed was off limits when it came to rooming. Her curious lavender eyes thoroughly scanned the tour group in search for possible female roommates, and then at the paper she had been given listing everybody's names.
The words coming out of Berke’s mouth were similar to a canister of gasoline, flaring the flames of passion within Mark. The only thing saving his ears from audial destruction was the introduction of a new distraction in the form of the sheep chimera that Mark had set his sights on moments ago. Mark shook his new roommate’s hand with unnecessary force; although Berke’s physical strength probably overrode it and kept the student from viewing another red flag. He responded Berke’s question with a solid “YES” and quickly jogged over to the center of commotion.
The sheep was being toyed around with by a human bigger than him, an act that made Mark remember the events of the previous combat scenario. The other student’s sarcasm was obvious enough to where even he would have understood it, but in order to have done that Mark would have to have seen the situation as a conversation in the first place. In a flash, the silver whistle that hung on his neck was now on his lips. He let out an uncharacteristically small tweet in order to catch the chimera’s attention but avoid activating his powers. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, SOLDIER! DO NOT ADMIT DEFEAT SO EASILY AGAINST YOUR HUMAN ADVERSARIES! USE YOUR BEAST SPIRIT AND -CRUSH- HIM!” The bundle of wooly weakness in front of him would require extensive work if he were to ever become a true soldier, Mark reasoned. Of course, this undertaking would be facilitated now that he wasn’t the only person dedicated to the soldier way of life, as his new friend Berke was obviously just as passionate and enthusiastic as he was, obviously. Obviously.
It took all of Bawen’s mental strength not to teleport as arms wrapped around him. Between the rapid fire commentary and the sudden physical contact (and subsequent movement), he barely had time to register his assailant as human. The fact that Mr. Milit had decided to wheel him over to the object of his unbridled contempt did little to sooth him, and he briefly considered politely objecting to the act. It would be wrong to do so, but he considered it nonetheless.
”My name is not Bo Peep Mr. Bayamaar.” Bawen says, the tweet of Marks whistle breaking him out of the stunned daze the sudden introductions had left him in. ”It’s Bawen Coridell.” He adds flatly, pointedly ignoring the offer the shake hands with as much indifference as he could muster. ”And despite Mr. Milit’s suggestion to the contrary, kind as it was, I frankly have zero interest in befriending either of you.”
”The Dog’s mere presence in a room drags down the collective IQ by a good 40 points and, If I’m being entirely honest, is nearly enough to sunder my very soul with disdain.”, he huffs, electing to ignore Mark’s ‘beast spirit’ comment for the moment. He turns his gaze to Berke. ”As for yourself...I find you’re overt friendliness off putting. Contempt by association is also not an inconsiderable factor.”
He takes a step back from the trio as best he can. ”Now, Mr. Milit. If this introduction was all you needed, would you care terribly if I returned to my previous seat?” He asks with a small servile nod.
As if the tour had never happened, Magnhild found herself back at the cafeteria with a nice, big tray in her hand; just about to get more food. Unfortunately, she had wasted a significant amount of time actually trying to find her way back to the cafeteria after walking into a few pillars, people, and doors. Fortunately, she found a really soft, grassy hill to take naps on on a later occasion. Whether out of complete absent-mindedness or sheer focus, Mag had failed to notice that her bag strap had come off at the very beginning of her escapade.
As luck would have it; something, or rather someone, tapped her on the shoulder. She turn her head slightly, seeing someone from the corner of her eye. She then turned fully to face them. A slightly shorter girl stood before her, the sweat visibly beading on her forehead from.. what seemed to be running? Mag wondered why this girl would be running around before tapping her shoulder, but to each their own.
The young Pangolin waited for the girl to say something, because usually people said something when they wanted your attention, right? But this girl just held up a strap. It was a strap given to her by her foster father on her first day of living with him. A small yellow ball with a smiley face on it. Magnhild smiled back at the girl, albeit less intensely. She merely watched as the shorter girl pulled out a notebook, before scribbling something onto it.
’Your strap snapped off your bag in the courtyard. I got it back to you luckily.’ it read.
It took the Chimera a little bit of time to fully read the writing, her brow furrowing slightly. Her expression softened as her gaze moved back to the girl. "Oh, thanks." She responded simply, retrieving the strap from the girl. An awkward silence fell over the two as Mag kind of expected something else... But didn't get it. Oh! That's right! Pleasantries or whatever they're called!
"I'm Magnhild Voll, feel free to call me Mag.. And you are?" She says in a somewhat formal tone, whatever that may sound like. Since this girl spoke through paper and ink, Mag decided not to push for a handshake. Even though handshakes were the important part, as she was informed by her foster father.
Joseph was simultaneously entertained by how uncomfortable this made Bawen, and surprised by the level of vitriol that came pouring out of him. He had become such a meek little dweeb when confronted back in the cafeteria, so Joseph had thought he wouldn't have the balls to say this shit to anyone's face. But he did, and he did not hold back. He well and truly proved his deep seated contempt for the poor bastards that Joseph had called over to meet him. There was one thing that Joseph took good notice of, and that was the fact that in spite of all the bile he heaped on Berke and Mark, he never once said a bad word towards Joseph himself. He couldn't bring himself to talk shit to the man that had dumped him in this awkward situation.
For Joseph, this little nugget of information only filled him with nothing but contempt.
"No." Bawen would hear as a hand shot out and gripped him by the wrist, a new found disdain disseminating through the vice grip he was now held in. "I called these two over on good faith, and you take the chance to spit on their kindness? I don't think so, buddy boy. I think you should apologise to these two fine gents. Like you mean it." Joseph was looking him right in the eyes now. His words suggested compassion for the cruelty endured by the others, but the look in his eyes betrayed a desire to see Bawen suffer.
Bawen stares limply as Joseph grips his wrist. ”You're...hurting me.” he say flatly, attempting to ignore the sensation of the bones grinding against each other. Terror bubbles in the chimera's gut and he bites the inside of his cheek to will away the urge to flee from it.
Bawen still wasn't sure what the humans intentions with the three of them were. But with two humans striking him in one day, he decided he no longer cared. The order was given, and he had no interest in seeing what they'd do to him if he didn't fall in line. He turns his head back towards Berke and Mark, wrist still held in Joseph's grasp tightly.
”I...Apologize Mr. Bayamaar." He says, voice ringing with more refinement and a well practiced etiquette. ”Roommate selection is somewhat stressful, and I appear to have taken it out on you and your friend. I'm sure I would enjoy nothing more than the opportunity to become your friend and discuss our..." His eyes lock with Mark's before he continues, stomach rolling as he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to say. ”I believe the phrase you used was 'beast spirits'?"
He then returns his gaze to Joseph, his face not betraying his concerns about the apology sounding genuine enough to sate the human's whims. ”Is...is that sufficient sir?" He asks, quietly and carefully. @HokumPocus@Etranger@Avant
The taller girl turned back at Rikka after she had gently tapped on her shoulder. Promptly Rikka was gazing over the face and body of the girl. She didn't seem too pleased with Rikka's appearance, it looked more like she wanted to be left alone and not be bothered with the conversation Rikka wanted to have with her. Uncomfortable by the gaze of the taller girl Rikka still continued with what she wanted to tell her.
Magnhild seemed a little confused and annoyed by the fact she had to read from a piece of paper instead of conversing like any normal person. It made Rikka a little scared to what she was gonna tell her, was she gonna get mad at her for approaching her? Her notebook slowly rose up towards her face more and more to hide herself from any unexpected outburst the girl would give her. Rikka's knees softly trembled, as the notebook had risen to just under her eyes so she could still read Magnhild's response. Surprisingly the girl replied with only a few short words and nothing more. Rikka gazed at Magnhild in surprise to how peaceful that answer was, the girl took the strap from Rikka and nothing more.
She just wordlessly gazed at the strap for a moment before looking back at Rikka with the same sharp expression. The notebook softly lowered back down again as Rikka was figuring this girl out. Rikka would have expected a somewhat fiercer response like the usual tsundere kind of way 'It is not like im thankful to you or anything baka!' Something more like that, Rikka would have expected that more of this girl instead of this kuudere stuff.
Rikka her expression completely changed when she knew the girl wasn't at all mad at her. With a kind smile on her face she concentrated back on the lips of Magnhild again to see what she had decided to tell her. The girl introduced herself as Mag which was short for Mangahill Vol. Looking a little confused by what she just said Rikka waited a moment for her to finish speaking. Magnhild had asked for her name as well but firstly, she wanted confirmation on something. Rikka turned the notebook back at her and wrote on it again before showing it back to Magnhild once more.
'Your name is Mangahill Vol? That kind of sounds like a superhero. I'm sorry, can you write it down in my notebook, I'm deaf."
Patiently Rikka turned the notebook to the next page after the answer of Magnhild to write another line on it.
'My name is Rikka Kishimoto. It is nice to meet you.'
Rikka gave a short giggle as she bowed her upper body down for having met another girl. She looked at the plate full of food to see what she was having for dinner. The same curry as she first had was on there. It made her kind of tempted to get another plate of that curry, unfortunately she was still full of her earlier curry. Rikka suddenly noticed the dorm room assignment paper on the plate as well, half under the board of curry. From the looks of the pretty girl she expected that she would have a room mate reserved for herself already.
'You found yourself a roommate already I recon. I don't even know anyone on this school so it is a little difficult to find one.'
Magnhild looked at the writing for awhile with some sort of intense look, only to be surprised when the other girl offered the book to her to write in. This girl was deaf... 'Maybe she's like that old aunty back home.. What was her name? El..Elu? Something like that.' She thought for a moment. Remembering the times that the local kids would play pranks on her. Whether it was because she was a turtle chimera or because she was deaf or both, she didn't know why they did. Mag often helped the old lady with her laundry on occasion.
The chimera pocketed the strap before hesitantly taking the pen, writing into it, her hands shaking a little.
'Magnhild Voll.' it read, correcting the girl's spelling. 'Thank you.' she wrote simply afterward.
It would be clear to anyone that Mag didn't know how to write very well, as her handwriting was akin to a 5 year old's. Given that she's had about as much education as one, it wasn't all too surprising.. to her at least.
"R..Reek..ah?" She repeated aloud as she read the name. "Kee..Shee..motto?" Deep down, she felt like she just completely butchered this nice girl's name, but it's not like she can hear her saying it wrong, right? When Rikka mentioned the dorm assignment, Mag looked down at her curry plate. The sheet was under the plate with a small splatter of orange oil.
"Oh that." She said aloud before remembering the girl's disability. Setting down the tray, she took the notebook, attempting to scribble a message in reply. 'I do not have one. Will you be mine?' it read in very simplistic terms. Mag slipped the paper out from under the plate, putting it in front of Rikka, showing a completely blank sheet outside of the general information already written on it.
The girl definitly was off when she was trying to read. Everytime Rikka wrote something to her she would need a while to read everything and make weird expression while trying to read the words with soft muttering of her lips. It was funny to look at but she also felt a bit sorry for the girl. She must have something special about her that she was like this. Well at least they could communicate and Magnhild had been nice to her up till now.
Manghild was somewhat forced to write her name in the notebook which she seemed to have a bit of trouble with as well. Rikka looked at the cruel text lines in her notebook not trying to show the girl how shocked she honestly was. With an awkward smile on her facr she gave a short bow at the girl to thank her for her name. Rikka wouldn't know how to try and say this at all. Sticking to Mag it was.
Rikka showed Mag her name as well. She seemed to repeat it very carefully as she was trying to read it. Rikka gave a short nod as she seemed to be getting it right from the way het lips moved. She probably looked like an idiot to the canteen lady as she saying it aloud like that but she didn't appear bothered with what anyone else was thinking anyway.
"Mach"
Rikka tried to say Mag her name as well, there was a blush on her face when she tried saying it. Definitly embarrassed to let her voice hear. After Rikka had asked about Mag her roommate Mag took the paper from under the curryplate which was already dirty off course and showed it to Rikka. She didn't expect for the girl to still be alone although. The last few moment with her definitely showed that she hasn't been around others that much. Still, despites that she didn't expect a random stranger just to ask her to become roommates like it was nothing.
Rikka her face lit up with a soft red glow of awkwardness as she frantically started writing on the paper again.
'Are you sure? Isn't that a little to quick to decide >.<'
Mark was competent when it came to reading other people. It was a vital part of his occupation, of course. He was completely and totally incompetent when it came to seeing the bigger picture, a conversation in this case. The results were predictable as he furrowed his eyebrows, chin in hand and listened to the chimera's apology. The boy's final words were aimed at Joseph, but Mark shot out a reply before he or the ever polite Berke could speak.
"DO NOT HESITATE IN COMBAT, SOLDIER. AS A CHIMERA, YOUR SOUL POSSESSES FEROCIOUSNESS AND FERVOR THAT A PLAIN HUMAN COULD NEVER OBTAIN NATURALLY. A TRUE MAN NEVER GIVES IN OR SUBMITS TO OTHERS, TWO THINGS THAT YOU HAVE DONE MULTIPLE TIIIIIMESSSSS!"
The word "times" was stretched masculinely like a flexed muscle, meant to be the killing blow of his sentence that would cause his listener to reflect and adapt like a warrior would. When a fish bites into a hook, a fisherman reels it in! Unless the fish in question has an equally potent amount of charisma, in which case the attempt was useless and has an effect similar to planting dynamite in a pond and then stabbing the body of water with a knife because it wasn't enough. "THE STRENGTH TO PERSERVERE LIES WITHIN YOU. NEVER SURRENDER!" The last bit was taken from a comic book, but his listeners were likely unaware of that.
1:00 PM, August 6th, 1210PW. 51 Degrees Fahrenheit. Overcast.'Terraphage' purpose identified! New laws have recently been passed restricting the formation of new industrial zones near the Deadlands for the safety of Unoctocan citizens. Furthermore, Deadlands expeditions will no longer use fuel operated machinery, lest they prompt Terraphage response. - The Parliamentary Watch
Some time passed. Boorkat Malkin and some of the other staff members kept things running as smoothly as possible while some students stayed in the dorm quad for lunch, and Professor Volkova accompanied those who decided to have lunch at the cafeteria building. Either way, it seemed to them that the students had begun to choose their roommates with some measure of success. After a while, students handed in their papers, while others were given roommate recommendations. And eventually, the staff came to some decisions regarding roommate and dorm room assignments. Not all of the students had finished choosing their roommates, but the staff still took that into consideration with their pairings.
Volkova tapped Magnhilde and Rikka on the shoulders, flashed them a quick smile, and gathered their papers. "Congratulations, you two. You're officially staying together. You will be staying in Room Q1-221. When you're finished eating, the Kio-Farat boys will help you get your dormitory room set up. Just talk to the R.A. - her office is in the southern common room in building Q1, on the west side of the quad," she said, then she turned around to give other students in the cafeteria their room assignments.
Back in the dorm quad common area, it had started raining, though the Groundskeeper's magic was somehow keeping everything from staying wet for any more than a split second and the warmth of the plants kept it from being terribly unpleasant. Boorkat stayed quiet, instead opting to let his granddaughter handle the dormitory assignments. The young third generation lobster chimera quickly dashed about, taking up peoples' papers. Those who hadn't yet signed their papers but seemed to be getting along exceptionally well were put together just as those who had signed their papers were. All others were assigned at random.
L'ilisht, Arkan Higaeyt - Q4-121
Mark Steel, Berke Bayamaar - Q1-224
Bawen Coridell, Honehe Bitter-Tooth - Q2-107
Magnhild Voll, Rikka Kishimoto - Q1-221
Jhin Naugna, Lucannus Murdoc - Q2-108
Mallory Mortimer, Jesse Belladonna - Q2-210
Matt Dorn, Ohon Katann - Q2-310
Alexander Breckenridge, Joseph Milit - Q1-114
Louis Martin, Elyse Steiner val Hattan - Q2-218
Yrhen Oharra - Q3-414
Mionrask ar Wahaca, Deegon Bigknifestabby - Q3-212
Mycona Frisa - Q3-172
Boorkat's granddaughter translated for the humongous lobsterman again, giving the students their assigned rooms and some quick directions to their dormitory buildings. "You're free to speak to the Resident Assistant in your dormitory building to get your key and move your furniture in at any time between now and 18:00. You have a little under five hours to get yourselves situated, after which point you will be provided with only the very barest furnishings until you figure out how to move everything else in yourself. Have fun, don't get yourselves into too much trouble."
Some of the listed roommates were missing.
Later That Day
1:30-6:00 PM, August 6th, 1210PW.
Over the course of the day, various groups of students moved into their dorms. There were quite a lot more than had been in the group at the opening ceremony, and overall the campus seemed much, much more lively than it had been only a few short hours ago. Where there had been only the occasional old scholars shuffling around before, now far more younger people had come out of the woodwork, including the Kio-Farat Fraternity - large, musclebound humans (and one bonobo-esque second generation chimera), who helped assemble furniture brought over by truck from the Warehouse, organized furniture choices, and teleported peoples' belongings and furnishings directly into their rooms.
When students entered their dormitories for the first time, depending on whether they picked up furniture before or afterward, they encountered a sparse room perhaps 8'x10' with a thin blue carpet, off-white walls, a large curtained window with a small balcony, and a tiled area directly to the right of the entrance containing a magically enhanced icebox, a sink, and a gas-heated range, all in rich mahogany. On either side of the room lay two doors, which opened into mirrored opposites of bedrooms, which were much smaller with only barely enough space for a bed, a small desk, and a dresser, though there was also a tiny coat closet on the side towards the dormitory hallways. At the back of each bedroom was also a tiny bathroom with a toilet, a small sink on a pedestal, a mirror-cabinet, and a circular shower pan afixed with a pipe framework holding up the showerhead and curtains. The room looked like it would get very wet very quickly if one weren't careful.
Students were able to bring in their own furniture, or choose from a series of different styles, depending on their needs. Beds ranged from classical human style beds to stone slabs to boxes of sand to small circular cushions. Couches and lounge chairs had similar differences, though many had their back rest elevated above a gap meant for tails. Essentially, every biological need was covered, and within a matter of hours, every room had what it needed, though the rooms lacked any sort of entertainment. If someone wanted a radio, they would've had to have brought it themself. Otherwise, the library and athletics compounds would be their best bets for entertainment - as well as New Mordhaben, the small college town just a couple miles down the road leading southwest through the forest and across the railroad tracks. Finally, special needs students had their dormitories modified (often magically) to meet their needs.
At the end of the move-ins, the loudspeakers and information boards around the school provided the new students with vital information: They would be taking their entrance exams at 7:00 AM the next morning, and would be woken up an hour prior to that.
The missing roommates still hadn't arrived.
The Written Exam
6:00 AM, August 7th, 1210PW. 44 Degrees Fahrenheit. Still dark, slightly windy.
The next morning, after moving in and meeting roommates, students were woken up - loudly - by the school loudspeakers. Rikka's special accommodations involved her bed violently shaking and a notice teleporting onto an info board next to her bed, just like the other students with hearing difficulties had. The school loudspeakers and the written notices honked five times (the written notice quite literally had 'HONK' written across the top repeatedly as the result of a speech-to-text artifact being built into an automatic printer), followed by instructions:
New students are to report to the cafeteria for breakfast and placement examinations in 30 minutes. I repeat, new students are to report to the cafeteria for breakfast and placement examinations in 30 minutes. Other students may disregard this message.
At the cafeteria, staff were lined up and getting trays of food for themselves. Many of them were just as sleepy as several of the new students were, though a handful looked no worse for the wear: primarily the military professors and some of the more 'unnatural' ones. The school apparently had gotten a new shipment of Guavl - a type of stimulant beverage similar to extremely potent coffee, though with a more 'woody' flavor - and a pungent odor. A handful of upperclassmen who had never had it before took a single sip and their pupils visibly dilated, and the woodlike and acrid scent of the drink flooded the cafeteria.
The day's breakfast "special" was a bright red omelette made with Hakakos (a type of enormous flightless bird) eggs, diced whip vines, and stoneflower petals, and it had the taste of very lightly fermented flame-roasted beef, courtesy of the unique enzymes present in the stoneflower. The dish was packed with more protein than some students would have in a week at home, and the chefs in the Unoctocan quarter made sure that everyone knew it. Imported tropical fruits from southern Swazivan were served with the omelette as a side.
After breakfast, Professor Volkova (once again) gathered the new students together - this time making absolutely certain that everyone joined them immediately. "The placement exams are starting shortly. Follow me," she said, and the group made its way to the Social Building. Downstairs, in the basement, there was a large and warmly lit room packed with desks, each of which was pre-prepared with a pencil, a booklet, and an answer sheet. The desks themselves had visual barriers etched with complex runes along the edges of the outside, presumably to block both vision and Vision. Trying to see through them or around them while inside their area effect was futile as the result of a harsh glow that filled one's sight if one looked away. More observant students would notice that the runes etched along the edges of these screens were identical to the runes lining every single dormitory bedroom's door frame, and they would also notice that the screens were attached to wires that dove down into ports in the well-trodden purple-carpeted floor.
"Take a seat, and do not lift your pencils until instructed. You will have thirty minutes per section of the test. Follow directions to the best of your abilities."
When the students had all been seated, and Volkova had led Louis to a separate desk containing a braille booklet and a microphone inside a noise-dampening screen (which she pointed out), she spoke up again: "You may begin."
The written test covered basic reading and writing skills in the first section, followed by mathematics, followed by general science skills, and finally, followed by general magical knowledge (mostly regarding Foundation, Vision, and Compromise). A fifth portion was given five minutes, and was in the form of one question: "Why are you here?"
After the written exam, the group was led to the Field behind the Athletics Compound. They hadn't seen it during the tour, but it wasn't surprising that it would be present. Like the indoor court, the field included a series of adjustable goals of varying shapes and sizes, and was covered in astroturf. A concrete track with lightly banked turns made its way around the field, with some very rudimentary aluminum and concrete stadium stands equipped with adjustable seating for multiple body types standing on the north and south sides of the field.
Two young third-generation Chimeras were waiting for them: an avian Chimera with wings in place of arms and white, blue, and black feathers, and a wolflike Chimera with strawberry blonde hair kept in a long braid. They were professors Fiona Shenfield and Alison Jakar.
The physical exams were fairly simple and fairly short. Students were given a number of tasks to complete in the form of a kilometer run (completed as quickly as possible), a long jump, a test involving pulling a heavily laden wagon, and a flight test for those who were able to take part. The tests were individually rated, and the professors jotted down the results in their notepads. All in all, the tests took another couple hours, and the students made their way to lunch alongside the professors.
Thankfully, the cafeteria wasn't quite as smelly anymore, though they were still serving Guavl. The lunch special was a type of Swazivani sandwich made with Sunloaf cheese and roasted spikeweed, with a slightly toasty and mildly fungal flavor, served with a side of barley-based pasta swimming in a creamy and spicy white sauce. More cultured students would note the presence of ground cricket in the sauce.
The magic exams (first technical, then practical) were coming in fifty minutes, and upperclassmen were bombarding those new students who would listen with stories about how horrifying the magic placement exams were. Not all of the stories were made up.
As much as Berke was dismayed by the initial hostile reaction of who he learned to be Bawen, he was a touch disturbed by how things developed after that. While he would like to believe that Mr. Milit was honestly acting out of concern for them, there was something a little too sinister about the way he did it. Berke began to feel deeply uncomfortable about the whole situation. It only got worse when Mark seemed intent on provoking a fight between the two of them. "Um, uh, well, uh, apology accepted, Bawen. I believe me and Mark had best be on our way..." He turned to Mark and said, "We still need to turn in our forms, yes?" He hoped that the suggestion might distract him from his designs on conflict. If not, Berke for one would be getting out of there quickly. All this conflict did not suit him, and if he could not diffuse the situation, it was best he just left.
---
Eventually, the new day began, and the exams came with it.
Berke had come somewhat prepared to take a written test, though his preparations were not entirely adequate to make a good showing here. While a few subjects had improved, for some his studies had not covered the material included on the test, and for those he had never been good at he did as poorly as he usually did. His performance would no doubt be overall middling with wildly vacillating grades between subjects. As for the question of why they were here, while Berke was not overly eloquent, he could certainly speak from the heart, and wrote a great deal on his desire to do right by his community and the lessons he had learned back in Altay. He had no idea if this was the kindof thing that the institute wanted to hear, but it was exactly what had brought him hear, and Berke wasn't one to embellish himself to sound better. At the end of the day, he wasn't remotely sure if he would pass this section, but he had given it his best effort.
The physical exam was closer to Berke's talents. While he was not able to run terribly fast, he could certainly run for a while without getting puffed. The long jump did not go so well, as Berke was akin to a flying brick in that situation. However, he would shine brightly while pulling the wagon, as if there was one thing he could hold in high esteem, it was his strength. Where others struggled and strained with the task, Berke pulled his wagon along with ease and finesse. He was not one to boast, but if he were, he would have boasted about how easy he had found it.
On the verge of the magic exams, Berke was cooling off in the cafeteria, enjoying his native sandwich. As a Swazivanian himself, Berke had eaten this one back in Altay, so it was like a touch of home had followed him here. All he had to do for now was to sit and await the start of his final test.
Mycona Frisa
Mycona had been informed that she could not be in a room with her new friend. In fact, she had been informed she was not permitted to sleep in a room with anyone. Her attempts to elicit explanations from the staff ended in failure as they seemed to only grow more and more frustrated with her ceaseless questions, ending with one of them simply guiding her to her designated room and telling her to remain there until further notice. Mycona inevitably spent a lonely night contemplating why she had been separated from anyone that could explain things to her.
Mycona dutifully reported in when the morning announcement rang out. She did not fully understand the instructions she received, but it seemed she, among others, was to sit down and work out the problems presented on this piece of paper. Mother and father had walked her through how to do "maths problems" back home, and so she understood how to answer many of the questions presented, though not all of them. There were many questions based on random facts that Mycona had read about in books, and so she answered exactly as the answers were presented in said books. She even copied entire sections from handbooks from Mordhaben's from memory. However, when it came to the question of why she was here, she was much less eloquent in her answer. She simply wrote "to learn how to magic" and left it at that.
As for the physical exams, Mycona did not initially understand what they wanted from her. Her questions to one of the staff members only seemed to frustrate them deeply. Eventually, a nice lady with long blond hair and golden eyes came out to explain things more carefully for her. Mycona soon understood that they needed to test her physical capabilities for their own purposes, and Mycona was content to oblige them. After being walked through what to do by the nice lady, Mycona managed a middling result in her physical tests. She could run fast, but had no exceptional stamina, and she was only slightly better at dragging the cart along than others. Mycona was quite tired out by the end of it all.
In the cafeteria, Mycona began to devour sandwiches like she had never eaten a single thing in her life. Her earlier exertion had worked up an appetite for her, and coupled with her usual penchant for stuffing food into her face, she was consuming sandwiches like a machine on overdrive. All Mycona understood was that there was one last test that had to do with magic to attend. The nice lady told her that.
Magnhild gave Rikka a small nod at the way she attempted to pronounce her name. The other girl got it completely wrong, but she couldn't ask too much of someone who wasn't used to speaking. She remembered some people 'talking' to aunty Elu back home, they used their hands to talk somehow. Too bad Mag didn't know any of it.
The chimera noticed that the girl's face went a shade of red after she asked her to be her roommate, but she didn't really pay much attention to it, since she didn't know what such an expression meant. "Well.." She started before feeling a tap on her shoulder. She looked up to see a familiar looking woman, she had already forgotten who it was, but she was certain that she was a staff member. The chimera couldn't help but feel confused as the woman took their papers. They were completely blank, but she ended up just going with it, giving Rikka a shrug.
---
The room that they were assigned looked quite luxurious compared to what she's used to. Her Foster father didn't have such appliances in his home as he lived simply and neatly. Mag didn't have any extra furniture to bring into the dorm, other than the small bonsai that sat on a circular table; her small suitcase sitting on what would be her bed, which happened to be a massive, dark green circular cushion. It was her bed from her caretaker's home, much to her surprise. A small smile played across her lips as she looked fondly at the cushion.
When the Kio-Farat boys had left, Mag decided to make herself comfortable, taking her hooded jacket off. Underneath it, she wore a black singlet, exposing the hard scales that covered her shoulder-blades and the back of her upper arms. One would deduce that her entire back was covered in these scales.
Throwing the jacket onto the cushion, she promptly went to go take a shower, the warm water running down her scales. The scales were truly bothersome when it came to cleaning. Mag had to use what was effectively a giant toothbrush to brush the dirt from between her scales.. although it felt nice anyway. After such a nice shower, she flopping onto her cushion, slowly curling into a ball as she fell asleep. After a rather eventful day, another was to begin. Mag almost had a heart attack as the wake up alarms went off. For a moment she sat there wondering why there was so much noise, only to have to internal questions answered by the loudspeakers. It was exam time. The chimera sighed as she got up to go clean herself before rushing off to the cafeteria. The mixture of scents that flooded the cafeteria made Magnhild's head spin a little. She was quite used to fresh air and the smell of grass rather than the smell of... something weird. However, her hunger got the better of her as she wolfed down the breakfast special.
---
It wasn't long before she found herself sitting as a desk with a booklet in front of her. Most of the instructions given to here were generally ignored as she attempted to decipher what was written in the booklet. Upon commencement, Mag flipped through the pages of the test, frowning in intense concentration.. She couldn't read more than half of the content in the booklet. Foundation? Vision? Compromise?
She answered a few of the questions in the basic reading and writing section, however her handwriting wasn't neat enough to stay in any kind of box provided.
Upon reading the question "Why are you here?", Magnhild simply wrote 'To learn magic.' before closing the booklet. There was nothing else she could do but leave about four fifths of the answer sheet blank.
---
The physical exam was something Mag was more okay with than the written one. Instructions felt simpler and everything was straightforward. She completely the kilometer run, however not as quickly as the others. The long jump was.. not very long, and she couldn't pull the wagon very far at all.
During her meal, Mag just sat somewhere to eat, not really paying attention to who might be around her. As she ate, she noticed something about the sauce.. What was it.. It tasted like.. crickets? She didn't know how they hid crickets in this sauce, so she attributed it to magic. She used to eat crickets that she caught in the forest, and she remembered their size being quite.. large. Perhaps that was because she was little at the time.
In the back of her mind, she was a little worried about the magic exams, since she didn't even know how to use it at all. She shrugged internally, thinking that she'd eventually learn it. This was only just the beginning.
While Rikka and Magnhild were chatting about becoming roommates the woman from before that had handed out the forms came up to their spot. She was quick to determine that they were done with filling it in already taking the room assignment form from their table. Rikka could not follow what she was saying and just assumed the woman decided to pair them up with someone random. It took Rikka a moment to realise after seeing that their paper was being taken that it wasn't filled in yet. Rikka couldn't decide on a roommate so quickly but she wanted some reasurment at least that it wasn't a random person she didn't like. The sweet question of Magnhild that did want to room with her made her at least a little confident to sit in a room together for a few years.
"Ah no!"
Rikka softly fumbled a few words out of her mouth she could muster to get the attention of the woman and rushed over to her trying to stop her in the most frantic way possible. Rikka had the woman show her their paper again, the woman explained once more how she paired them up already which made Rikka stare at her for a few minutes before turning her expression into a radiant aura of happiness and cheerfulness. She smiled and gave the woman a gravious bow till she was out of the canteen again. Rikka strolled back towards Magnhild who was sitting at one of the tables eating her food. She gave a joyfull smile at Magnhild and a nod that they had become roommates. They sat down for a while longer untill Magnhild was done eating her second lunch. She paced alongsides Magnhild to the dorms occasionally giving a short glance at the girl to see if there was any emotion on her face during a few scenarios.
They both got their keys and went in. It was nothing of unordinary. Just a dorm room with living room and separate bedrooms nothing to special but very cozy. Mag went into her room to decorate and move stuff so Rikka decided to do the same. Rikka hung a newly bought whiteboard with many colored pens on the side of her door entrance to her bedroom so she could write stuff to Mag and the same back if they wanted to chat. She didn't push trying to chat with Mag all too much feelimg rather anxious if she would grow tired of having to talk like that. Despite that she still wanted to ask Mag a lot of things but she was at least sure it was gonna happen sometime. Rikka unpacked a few things and placed them over her room before calling it a day, grabbing dinner and heading off to sleep wishing Mag goodnight. She had yet to see any of Mag her room and her scales but she would take it easy on her for now.
Rikka had started sleeping early so she could wake up on time but found out there actually was a say of waking her with those modern things called alarm clocks. Rikka had been awake for a few minutes so that was a relief at least instead of being woken up by being violently shaken around in your bed. With wide eyes and goosebumps on her body she sat next to the bed ogling her eyes at the monsterous bed. She had looked for an off button for a while but was lucky to find out it went off automaticly. With a deep sigh and a morning head she sat down for a cup of coffee before showering, cleaning herself, make up and dressing to find herself a new day of school. Firstly a nice meal at the cafeteria which consisted of some weird looking dish from any weird tropical island she didn't know to a few exams which were lucky not all to hard for your standard stud and a physical test which did drain all her energy for the remaining day. They had one more exam coming up which was the magical exam. Rikka didn't know what to expect of it and was feeling a bit anxious about it being something special but was luckly distracted by her saturated hunger. Another day of curry for Rikka!
She sat down infront of a random stranger by the name of Myconna not stressing about her too much from having to few things in her belly. She ate a few spoons of curry as her mind took her back to the test for a minute. An answere which she still found hard to answer. About why she wanted to be at this academy.
'I want to become one of the top students at one of the most populair schools around the world so I can get good recommendations for any future schools I will attend.'
It was mostly a silly answer. She did want to be one of the top students at this school but didn't think that would be an easy feat. Rikka looked up while munching her food and noticed the somewhat weird looking girl. Her hair didn't look like hair, her skin color was pale and off, her eyes had a red hue about them. Was she one of those chimeras as well? A student chimera. Rikka stared at her for a while longer before realising she had been staring an awfully long time at the poor girl. With food still in her mouth she tried apologising.
"Gom-"
She quickly shut her mouth with wide eyes of knowing she just did some bad manners and chewed the food as fast as possible even swallowing it too early resulting in almost choking herself on the food. She stomped herself on the chest a few times to make the food go down her throat. Started coughing from earlier, took a quick sip of her coffee to ease her throat. Sitting tear eyed at the table for a few moments. And as big final tried bowing as deep as possible accidentally slamming her head onto the table. With both her hands covering her forehead and tears in her eyes she looked up at the girl with sad puppy eyes from being hurt.
Mark quietly followed Berke’s suggestion and accompanied him in turning in their forms, confident in his speech abilities and eager to follow the directions of his superiors.
Mark’s body remained stiff as a board as soon as he slipped his tail through his chair. A written test! He stared at the sheets of paper in front of him as if they were wild animals to be dominated and trained. The vision-blocking magic surrounding him was bewildering and intensified all of his emotions in the way that a sensory deprivation tank does. He gazed harder at his test.
Mark answered the reading and writing portions mediocrely. He was well acquainted with the world of spelling and grammar due to being such an avid reader, and occasionally creating his own comics every now and then (a badly kept secret) so questions covering the basics found themselves conquered. Although anything more complex than that was incredibly confusing, he wasn’t about to admit defeat and leave a single question go unanswered. Thus, no matter how little he knew about a given subject Mark would find SOMEthing to fill in the blanks with. And how little he knew.
Mathematics was a completely foreign subject. He knew what numbers were, but anything beyond counting them one by one was on the same level as rocket science, magic, and rocket science magic. The science section was just as confusing, maybe even more so, as a diagram of the female body made Mark experience twelve different emotions simultaneously. He quietly drew a gun on the male body and continued.
The general magic knowledge portion of the exam was the liberation from the madness, since it contained questions that he was equipped to answer. His favorite superheroes oftentimes gave lengthy dramatic monologues over magic types and magic classifications, so Mark had the information engraved inside of his brain. Filtering that information from everything that was attached to it was another problem entirely, however and the end result were answers that were technically right but consisted of blocky paragraphs that relied heavily on examples. “FOUNDATION MAGIC IS WHAT SUPERHEROES LIKE THE STEAM STRIKER USE DUE TO THEM INVOLVING……. LIKE IN VOLUME 34 IN THE BEGINNING WHEN ALL THE UNOCTOCAN FIGHTERS USE FRIENDSHIP TO…… SORT OF LIKE THE CHARACTER….” It was possible that his answers weren’t all the most correct, but they were certainly the largest. His handwriting only added to the overwhelming effect that his responses gave off, consisting of exclusively capitalized letters that were surprisingly neat and written with extreme, unnecessary pressure. Writing is a window to the soul, they say.
The question “why are you here?” stood out from the others, and so did his answer.
“BE THE BEST SOLDIER. AND ASSIST IN UNLOCKING OTHER’S BEAST SPIRITS ALONG THE WAY.”
The second part was tacked on as he recalled the chimeras around him who were unwilling to embrace their monstrous characteristics and use them to their advantage. Coaching others was naturally implied from the start, but recent events made it seem like something that should be explicitly mentioned. With that question answered, it was time for the physical portion.
The one kilometer run was a positive activity for Mark, as it had been awhile since he had exercised. His above average endurance helped carry him through with no major problems. The long jump was a short affair thanks to a nice and agile frame. He did an average job at pulling the wagon, but once again maintained a steady and passionate attempt. It is important to mention that he was unleashing battle cries at various points throughout his challenges.
In the cafeteria he listened intently to what the upperclassmen had to say over the magic exams that would soon take place. They were entertained by his peculiar behavior and had taken various creative liberties throughout their accounts in order to rile him up as much as possible since it beat eating the same old pretentious soup and sandwich. Repeated cries of "WHAT HAPPENED AFTERWARDS" rang strongly inside the building.
Bawen blankly stared at the door to his room, a lone bag hung lazily over his shoulder. He'd some how managed to escape the dog chimera mid tirade as the Boorkat made his announcement.
Collecting his luggage was a welcomed distraction from the awkwardness of...whatever that mess was in the cafeteria. He was beginning to wonder if the room was somehow cursed to make his life more difficult.
Stowing the thought away for the moment (he'd have to devise some sort of test to run at a latter date), he gently knocks on the door. "...Hello? I pray that you are clothed because I'm coming in."
Upon opening the door, the visage of a large lupine monster would be revealed. Staring up from his seated position, reading over a letter, a wild smile came across his face, although Honehe's smiles tended to appear sinister due to the shape of his face. "Ah, you must be Bawen Coridell." The wolf began, raising from his seat. "My name is Honehe. I believe we are to be roommates at this institution. I humbly bid you welcome." Standing at full height over Bawen, he extended his hairy hand in greeting.
Bawen gives as firm a shake as he can manage (which isn't saying too much,but still). "Likewise....Though, and forgive my directness on this front but..." Bawen says, slowly looking up at the canind. "...is this room actually large enough to accomidate you comfortably?" "....also they've made the wolf lie down with the lamb, so to speak. I dont think that is an issue in all likely hood."
"Fret not." Honehe replied. "I may be of robust size, but I can manage in here just fine. I am not unfamiliar with tight spaces." "And I should think we are both intelligent enough creatures that our anecdotal rivalry should not matter. It isn't that you find me intimidating, I hope? People have been known to suggest that to me. I promise, I do not bite."
"Not esspecially no." Bawen states simply."I was raised in the unclaimed territory to the south, so I've seen far more esoteric examples of monster species...unless you perhaps find me intimidating?" He asks, half jokingly.
"I hope you'll forgive me for saying so," He began, chuckling slightly. "But not in the slightest.
"Alas, my fluff and horns have failed to fill the hearts of men with the darkest of eldritch terrors." Bawen says, closing the door and placing his bag on his bed.
"It is intriguing that you hail from the south. It so happens that I hail from the north. There are many examples of monsters there too, but they have intentionally gathered in comradeship. I don't suppose you've ever heard of the Akamina Free Commune?"
"To echo your statement before; I hope you'll forgive me, but not in the slightest." Bawen says dully.
"It is no bother. We are a small place for now. Many do not appreciate our message of unity, but we grow slowly." A glint appeared in his eye. "We are in truth a gathering of both monster and chimera under one banner. I know, you are probably wondering how such a place could even exist. We struggle with the inborn prejudices of our kind and others, but my father has a dream to bring together our peoples, and so we do so. In time, we hope everyone will forget the division between those with monstrous blood."
Bawen goes weirdly silent. "Ah...I see. Well..." He begins, now legitmately regretting not having asked for a roommate before."I am familiar with living with chimera and monsters. However that was a long time ago. And I cannot say the idea of doing so in exclusivity of humans holds much interest to me anymore."
"No?" Honehe cocked an eyebrow at this response. "Now why would that be?"
"After the war between Airelosia and The Empire ended, my father..." He pauses. "A human to be clear. Was kind enough to furnish myself and my mother with a very privileged lifestyle. With no small amount of controversy to be clear. Monsters and Chimera were previously hunted for sport in the region. So I am rather loyal to humans as a matter of principle. Him and his family especially."
"I can appreciate that, to an extent." Honehe stated, while not entirely pleased. "Then again, does it not seem a travesty that monster or chimera should be hunted for sport to begin with? Your father's kindness may be a mercy, but the problem was created by human hands."
"If such is the case, then are not you and myself accountable to the deaths caused by feral monsters?" Bawen asks simply, unpacking a set of thin sheets. "To be frank with you, our kind typically lack the resources and organizational skills to hold large communities, much less full blown countries. Human do and have, Airelosia not withstanding.There may be problems, but there is a fundamental element to their system that works. Far more so than anything we've yet to achieve. It is silly not to work to ingratiate ourselves with them."
"My my, you almost sound like you're one of them." Honehe remarked sarcastically. "In this case, I must bend to the wisdom of my father. My tribe's history recalls a time when humans were not nearly as advanced or developed as they are now. Through collective effort, they transformed themselves into what you see today. In the case of our species, my father argues that it is a lack of identity that holds us back. Many of us are nothing more than the same tribal mess that we were many moons ago. All we need is an awakening. The Commune hopes to be that awakening. And I should think it clear that we, capable of higher thought, are hardly responsible for the actions of sub-sentient creatures eating to survive."
"I am sure that is a great comfort to the people eaten by some of them, yes.Not at all dissimilar to when a friend of my father's showed me his rather expansive collection of stuffed heads." Bawen's face twisted at the thought. If there was one thing he wished his father would make a priority for their territory, it would be destroying every example of those macabre things.
"Indeed?" Honehe remarked. "Again, while I can understand some appreciation towards your father, when you tell me that one of his friends was a headhunter, I must admit I cannot see how your loyalty can be so broad."
"Because if I wasn't, I imagine the consequences would be rather unfortunate." He says simply, holding a corner of a bed sheet for Honehe. "Hold this for a moment please."
Honehe acquiesces, gripping the sheet in his bulky hand. "Then it is not loyalty, but fear, that motivates you?"
"Thank you. And no, I simply understand what there is to gain in being loyal." Bawen carefully drags the other end of the bed sheet to the other corner. "After the war, my family's holdings as well as a few others in the region were promised entrance into the Empire in thanks for our efforts. A promise that the empire decided to renege on." He tucks the bed sheet in. "Leaving everyone in that territory, human and otherwise, vulnerable to retaliatory attacks. My fathers goal is to correct that grievous error on the empires part through my efforts here."
"Is that so?" Honehe remarked, now infinitely more curious. "A lofty goal. But I must confess I fail to see how your attendance could be expected to encourage such a grand endeavor."
"I was selected to...soften the image of the territory. Less likely to think them barbarians if they permit my kind to act as a liaison. The school presents a good opportunity for me to create a name for myself in a hopefully long and productive career.The better I perform here and more positive press I generate, the more likely it will be that talks can be reopened."
"A reasonable belief. But if your territories' past experience should have taught them anything, it's that this Empire is hardly honest. The cynic in me says it is unlikely they will agree without true incentive. Wouldn't you agree?"
Bawen considers this for a moment. "I never said it was likely to happen in the immidate future. Other corner if you please." He says, tucking in the other corner. "But if nothing else, I can atleast help improve relations to the point that a possible protectorate status might be achievable within five to ten years. Resolves the more pressing military concerns of the region."
Gripping the other corner, Honehe continued. "Would they even do that? You said these territories to the south. That would extend their obligation to protect much closer to the deadlands. I would imagine they would need a significant strategic benefit to agree to such a dangerous prospect."
"Not that far west. We've got the gulf insulating us from the worst of it. And, as stated before, there is a rich local tradition of dealing with deadland visitors. And it isn't as though the region doesn't have its own standing military. Much of which operated with Imperial forces smoothly not long ago. We simply lack the resources and military berth of a developed nation."
"That is better. But I feel you're missing my point. A state is usually loathe to integrate a territory that doesn't give them benefits that outweigh the costs. What does your land have to offer the empire?"
"A standing, and formidable, navel asset for starters. While Brigader General Helmwulf might have taken the opportunity to claim, really steal, the recognition for himself, the Coridell forces in the southern gulf were doing all the dangerous missions. This is not even accounting for the other naval families in the area. But I suppose they also gain access to the southern gulf through the lands. Which, as a military asset, gives them more options for deployment should we enter another war with Airelosia."
"I see..." Honehe murmured, ruminating on the information. "The possibility certainly exists. In future, you may wish to consider how liberally you share information about your homeland. If the empire is truly concerned about the barbarity of their territories, I imagine they would be deeply concerned to learn of your father's friend's hobby. While it may mean little to tell me, others may spread the information around at their whimsy."
"Duely noted." Bawen says with a nod. "And likewise to your commune dream."
Honehe smiled once more. "I always try to be discreet. Although I would say we have nothing to hide as of yet. We certainly don't desire to integrate ourselves into this empire, and it would be foolish to hide our presence or intentions. The empire knows of us, and our intentions, but as my father says, they also know we have yet to become worth worrying about. Really, we shouldn't ever be, unless the empire takes exception to the idea of those with monstrous blood organizing." The last part was largely ironic, as Honehe was convinced the empire would indeed take exception to them organising once they became large enough to be a threat.
"Unlikely. The empire is...too tolerant." Bawen snorts, " If said commune doesn't expand southward, and culls their ferals, then I do not foresee it being an issue."Atleast in the intimidate." If Bawen has further issue on the subject, he doesn't air it.
"Of course." Honehe replied, although he did not believe a word of it. The empire merely held pretenses to inclusiveness in his mind. Taking a look out the window, Honehe continued, "Ah, but as much as I would enjoy continuing our discussions, I do believe it is getting late. We will no doubt have a full day ahead of us tomorrow. We should call it a day here. It was intriguing to learn from you, Bawen." He ended, intending to leave for his resting area when appropriate.
"Likewise Honehe." Bawen says, taking a seat at his desk and starting to work on something. He saw no real point in going to bed yet, and the review would be helpful. Sleeping at this point seemed rather wasteful anyway.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bawen stares at the final question of the written exam. He’d blown past the other subjects, barely needing a moments consideration for..any of them really. Years of late night study sessions under the watchful (and frequently disgusted) gaze of his fathers many many tutors had honed his mind to a razors edge for most topics. But be that as it may, those four little words were currently left him searching for an answer.
He doubted going on a tirade about the injustice his family faced post war was what they had in mind, and there likely was not enough time to do the topic justice. And given his conversation with his roommate earlier last night, he was in no mood to speak of it right now. He flicks the pen in his hand experimentally a few times, feeling his teeth grind together has he struggled to find an answer. Eventually, he gave up, deciding to wait patiently for the staff collect their exams. If he didn’t know the right answer, then putting nothing was the least likely thing to cause offense.
The physical exam had not been noteworthy in his mind. He’d started strong during the kilometer run, able to keep a fairly respectable pace going for the entirety. However, his attempt at the long jump was...well. It caught the examiners attention at least. That he’d managed it by virtue of tripping over himself mid jump and landing flat on his face was less encouraging. His performance at the wagon pull was equally poor, though thankfully the chimera girl he saw the day before (petting the dog...Mark?) seemed to be struggling as well.
Thankfully it was over and, for now, he could mentally prepare for the next exam, a thin dot of calm in a sea of worried freshmen. He wasn’t going to bother pestering senior students for information. The staff probably had a rotation of exams they used for this purpose, so there was no guarantee that he’d learn anything useful. Beyond that, he had a good grasp of spell casting for his age. Really the only concern was what would happen if he was paired with a foundation user during the practical exam, but there was no point in worrying over that now. The food held equally little interest to him. He’d managed to eat this morning, and despite the exercise he still felt fine.
He was tempted to just leave the cafeteria and go review some information on his own when someone sat in front of him, digging into the pasta being served. Now that she was a little closer, he realized his earlier guess of turtle as the other half of her heritage was wrong. She was armored, definitely, but there was no indication of a solid plate. It looked more like...scales. Lizard maybe?
He huffs, deciding to probe her for conversation. It was better than reviewing his own spells for the fourth time. ”You seem nervous. Think you did poorly on the other exams?” He asks his head resting lazily on his palm as he stared through her.
L'ilisht decided that it would be best to escape the insanity that was going on in front of him. He was growing to truly dislike his current classmates, moreso than even the general population. They were loud, noisy, and worse than regular people, they seemed to be rude specifically for the purpose of annoying other people. In the end, he'd been assigned a roommate. Somebody he didn't know, obviously, and somebody he didn't meet. For the entire first day, his roommate never showed. This would become a pattern, in fact.
The second day...was worse. So much worse. Waking early wasn't exactly foreign to L'ilisht, but this Guavl stuff certainly was. It was like drinking a cup of coffee that was supercharged on some kind of coffee steroids. Except that it didn't taste exactly like death. No, it tasted like the good whiskey he got once or twice a year when he had some money to spare from a particularly good hunt. It was a nice feeling, actually, even if it wasn't the most appetizing thing.
The written exam, though.
The written exam. It was more like mental torture. More like cruel and unusual punishment for some imagined crime. L'ilisht was harshly reminded of one of the reasons he wasn't exactly keen on coming to Mordhaben's: he couldn't read very well. Lack of formal education would do that to a kid, really. Most of the phrases, idioms, and words larger than a single syllable went completely over the blue chimera's head.
His annoyance was evidence by the second test. "Do I have to do this?" His voice was...grating. It was harsh, and sounded totally synthetic, owing to his heritage. The sound matched the appearance, to be perfectly frank: fitting the "human" mold, but only just barely so.
Going through the tests not knowing what most of what anything meant (including the entirety of the magical knowledge section, unsurprisingly), L'ilisht finished only when the time ended. He was here for a reason, and if they were testing him, he'd at least try. Even if almost every single response section was totally blank or simply included a question of his own.
The physical exam, though. That was where he shone. For each of the different sections of the exam, L'ilisht took a moment before starting to let the familiar warmth spread through his bones, magic flooding his body and enhancing his natural abilities even further beyond their naturally extreme levels. The results were perhaps most noticeable on the wagon run: L'ilisht seemed to barely be slowed down by the wagon at all, helped by both his second pair of arms and his magical enhancement.
To anybody bothering to use Vision, he would be extremely obviously utilizing magic, but it would also be obvious that his magic was completely self-contained, affecting only him.
Mycona had barely noticed that anyobdy, let alone Rikka, was staring at her. It was only when the girl started choking and making a scene that Mycona actually noticed. Mycona had no idea why she had done any of it, nor why she was apologising. However, a much more important fact occurred to Mycona; she was bereft of a friend with the first one having been separated from her, and she needed another. This girl had spoken to her without prompting, and so perhaps she made the perfect candidate for a new friend.
Standing up, Mycona said to her, "Hello, I am looking for a friend. Are you a friend?" She then stared at her, blithely unaware of the mess that the girl was in, expecting an answer. Mycona was aware that just the other day, her first friend had told her this was not the way to find a friend, however Mycona still had no idea what the correct way to find friends was, and so she was forced to fall back upon the simple method of asking bluntly.
The girl that she tried apologising too with every fumble that she could possibly make just looked back at her unknowingly that Rikka was even there in the first place. Rikka just stared in confused fashion at her while her chin rested on the tray in front of her, her hands still covering the hurted forehead. This girl wasn't so fast in reacting to anything. A bit of an airhead it seemed. It was even weirded when the girl decided to stand up with no reason. Well Rikka hoped she didn't have a reason at least, it would be bad if she suddenly jumped onto her and started fighting her.
Rikka moved her head from the table as well and sat back up straight again to confront the girl in polite manner. The girl spoke to her, Rikka carefully read her lips. This girl was looking to find a new friend it appeared. Rikka tilted her head giving her a questioning look to why she would ask such a thing to her. With Rikka having messed up so bad just now it felt like even a weirder question. Did this girl like her for that or something? This girl didn't look very normal either, maybe Rikka was still used to the human ways of doing things, she hadn't met all that much chimeras yet apart from the professors so maybe it was quite normal for a young chimera to ask these questions.
Slowly she gestured for a moment of patience while she picked the notebook out of her various aray of books that were stationed in her bag for the moment. She moved to the page just behind the last page she shared words with Magnhild with which could still be read upside down from Rikka her point of view. Rikka wrote a few things down and held the notebook out towards Mycona so she could read it.
'You are looking for new friends? We don't know each other very well yet but I hope we can get along at least...'
She didn't mind being friends, but it was a little weird calling each other friends right off the bat without even knowing each others names. Rikka waited a moment for the girl to finish reading and writing or talking back to her again before turning the page showing the next thing she had wrote already.
'What is your name? My name is Rikka. Do you mind if I ask how your hair is like that? It looks original.'
12:00 PM, August 7th, 1210PW. 58 Degrees Fahrenheit. Sunlight leaking through heavy cloud cover.Presenting, the Valkenhaut C1! Why's its nose so short? It's simple: We moved the engine to the back to free up space for the rest of the car. Feel the freedom of parking your C1 in spaces too small for your A19, or any of our competitors' products! We streamlined the C1's shape too, so your fuel efficiency will be THROUGH THE ROOF! Go to your local Valkenhaut outlet now, and support the Empire with your purchase! MSRP 400U, one year warranty guaranteed upon purchase. - Valkenhaut Advertisement on all Imperial newspapers and radio channels, Summer 1210.
Lunch passed uneventfully, at least compared to the previous day's breakfast. Many of the staff members in the lunchroom were visibly relieved - dealing with cafeteria squabbles in the middle of placement exams would've thrown off their entire rhythm and left the students unfocused. And focus was absolutely necessary for the next steps.
A short, swarthy man with a dirty blonde buzz cut and an Institute logo emblazoned upon his uniform stepped into the room from the front entrance and approached the staff tables in the Unoctocan quarter, where he whispered something to Administrator Malkin. The gigantic lobster nodded to him, then nodded to Professor Volkova, opting not to speak through his mouthful of rice and fish. Volkova had the announcement papers anyway, and she quickly shoveled her salad down her throat, staring at a clock on the wall. The instant the second hand struck 11:59:30, she picked up her megaphone, stood up, and made her way to the entrance. At precisely 12:00:00, she reached the front of the cafeteria and made her announcement.
"All new students, please make your way to the street outside the cafeteria. The Magic exams are starting now."
The crowd gathered in front of Laboratory Building 2, and Professor Brovak opened the door on the western side of the building leading into a long, tall hallway with blast doors along the left side of the hallway. Each blast door had a number on it and a clipboard hanging on a nail with a list of timeslots. The clipboards showed that every one of the laboratories had had space reserved for the exams. At the middle of the entrance hall, Brovak stopped and turned around to speak to the crowd, text floating above his head as he spoke. Those with innate Vision talent would notice that he had nothing to do with the text - rather, it was conjured by Administrator Malkin.
"The Magic test will be twofold. You will first demonstrate your current magic skill to your assigned professor in the main rooms of each laboratory. Afterwards, you will be directed into the testing chambers deeper within, where you will use your magic along with any other skills you may possess in combat. You will be evaluated for the potency of your magic, your potential for learning magic, and your creativity in using your magic. Professors, take your students, please."
The shuffled shuffled about some and went to their respective laboratory doors, and Volkova raised her megaphone, along with a list of students and their assigned rooms and professors for testing. There were still roughly three dozen new students taking the tests, and it took a short time for her to make her way through the list. Floating text appeared above her head as she spoke, and students wandered over to their doors as they were called out. She went in alphabetical order, or at least as close to it as possible with the cultural name variations.
"Bayamaar, Berke. Door One, with Professor Emilya Vance." "Belladonna, Jesse. Door Four, with Professor Hans Vance." "Bitter-Tooth, Honehe. Door Two, with Administrator Malkin." "Breckenridge, Alexander. Door Three, with Professor Xander Thorne." "Coridell, Bawen. Door Six, with Professor Robert Brovak." "Frysa, Mycona. Door Five, with Professor Zayid Leere." "Katann, Ohon. Door Four, with Professor Hans Vance." "Kishimoto, Rikka. Door Two, with Administrator Boorkat Malkin." "L'ilisht? ...Am I saying that right? Door Six, with Professor Robert Brovak." "Martin, Louis. Door Four, with Professor Hans Vance." "Milit, Joseph. Door One, with Professor Emilya Vance." "Mortimer, Mallory. Door Five, with Professor Zayid Leere." "Murdoc, Lucannus. Door Three, with Professor Xander Thorne." "Naugna, Jhin. Door Three, with Professor Xander Thorne." "Oharra, Yrhen. Door Four, with Professor Hans Vance." "Steel, Mark. Door One, with Professor Emilya Vance." "Steiner, Elyse. Door Five, with Professor Zayid Leere." "Voll, Magnhild. Door Six, with Professor Robert Brovak." "Mionrashk ar Wahaca. Door Two, with Administrator Boorkat Malkin."
Once the sorting was complete, each professor introduced theirself to their six assigned students, then unlocked their respective laboratories' blast doors and stepped inside. The rooms were sparse, with no equipment or furniture of any sort save for a table on the right side of the room from the entrance, a second, heavier blast door directly across from the room's entrance, and a noisily shaking cube covered in a black sheet in the far corner on the left. Along the lefthand wall, to the left of the covered cube, were a series of Unoctocan military species-universal Gaaspazeten-G2 gas masks - heavy hoods of rubber infused black cloth that draped over the wearer's head, with a pair of huge 'windows' acting as eyeports. A hose hung down from a space roughly four inches below the space between the eyeports, with a ring of slightly more rigid material covered in clamps at the bottom and three securing straps at different positions along the 'neck' area for adjusting the hood to the head. A grey canister with a pair of clothing clips mounted to its side hung at the bottom of the foot-long hose. The canisters were labeled with the volume of air they could safely filter corresponding to roughly 1200 breaths for an average size human, or roughly an hour under minor exertion.
The aluminum tables in each room were populated with a stack of blocks of different colors, sheens, and compositions, along with many bottles of differently colored gases. The blocks and bottles were each labeled with their respective element, and those versed in chemistry would recognize every element from hydrogen to xenon in sequence. The other known elements were too rare and expensive to bother stocking each laboratory with each, though a number of "common" non-elemental materials were also present, like wood, water, and the like. On the bottom shelf of each table were a series of clearly magical artifacts of different types - one stone tablet reeking of foul energy, one gearbox that continued spinning without a visible power source, a bowl of slime that squished around in circles as though it were alive, a book with very little obvious trace of magic, a salad fork with no obvious oddities, and a pen sitting in an inkwell atop a piece of paper. The professors each gave their students roughly the same speech (with some variations), to the tune of:
"Step forward one by one and demonstrate what magic you already know. Even if you do not know how to harness your magic, we will assess your magical potential based on the energy your minds put out. Don't bother trying to impress me: save your strength for what lies beyond the other door. You are free to use any of the materials on the table in case your talents require other objects."
Once the students had shown off their magic (or lack thereof) and the professors had jotted down their performance in their clipboards, the professors spoke again, this time saying something to the tune of:
"Alright. Now that that's done, on to the combat test. Inside that room, you will have to defeat one of the most dangerous breeds of Monster in the Deadlands. Does it sound bad? It should. These creatures are responsible for the vast majority of deaths on Deadlands exploration expeditions, and it's important that everyone know roughly what kind of threat wildlife can pose to research teams, frontier towns, nomad tribes, or anything else that regularly encounters them."
With that, the professors ripped the black sheets off of the cages in the corner, revealing a much smaller creature than many students would expect bouncing about the thinly wired cage wildly. It didn't seem very dangerous at first glance, but those who knew anything about the Deadlands knew otherwise. The creature was vaguely insectoid, two feet long and brown-carapaced, with four compound eyes each sitting atop a foot-long eyestalk, a short and round jawless mouth, and six large, segmented legs tipped in tiny, hair-coated feet, the rear pair of which were significantly larger than its four forelimbs. The bodies were not segmented in the same way as normal insects, though, and their 'head' sections seemed to blend into their upper torsos perfectly, which explained the need for eyestalks over fixed mount eyes. Every so often, they would flip open the back of their carapace to reveal a set of buzzing wings as they tried to fly upwards and escape their cage. Outside of the buzzing sound of their wings and the rattling of the cages, the creatures were completely silent, and their eyestalks flailed about wildly, staring directly at each person in the room in turn from behind the wire mesh.
"This Monster is called the Ashhopper. These Monsters live in the dense mushroom jungles of the Deadlands, where they live on a steady diet of slime mold, and an intermittent diet of ash and charcoal after forest fires. They are relatively harmless to us, but they are still the number one killer of explorers and researchers for one reason: They steal and eat the gas mask cartridges that Humans and Chimeras need to survive in the Deadlands. The pure carbon in a filter cartridge is a great enough meal that a small Ashhopper can grow in size several inches and push other, smaller Ashhoppers out of their territory."
With a press of a button, the second sets of blast doors opened to reveal the inner experiment chamber, which had been flooded with exotic plantlife, almost all of which looked particularly dangerous to the touch, either by merit of looking toxic, or by merit of looking extraordinarily sharp. Glasslike tufts of crystalline, blueish-purple transparent "grass" sprouted from clumps of earth surrounding the bases of the trunks of shroom trees of a strange, twisting breed that no students save for those who had been to the Deadlands had ever seen. A few gigantic 'flowers' with bulbous, spongelike, and sickly yellow-green-white 'heads' surrounded by bright red leaves wilting and creeping along the ground 'coughed', spewing a puff of spores upwards into the air inside the room. Overall, the room smelled faintly of almonds, dirt, and decaying plants, with a tiny hint of the smell of rotting flesh emanating from the spongy plants. The room's main lights were off, but the bioluminescent parasitic vines creeping along the trunks of the treelike fungi lit the area in faint shades of pink and purple. Hiding places were everywhere. It looked almost exactly like the few photographs of the Deadlands that had made it back to the Empire, save for it very much not being black and white.
"During the test, you will put on one of the Gaaspazeten-G2 masks on the wall -- I'll check the seal for you -- and you'll enter the test chamber. Your job is to kill any Ashhoppers in the room. If you fail the test, you'll know the instant your throat starts burning and you start to lose consciousness. It's not lethal like it is in the Deadlands, but it's definitely not fun, and the gas used will even effect Monsters to keep things nice and fair. I recommend that you try to win before your filter expires. You there, you're up first. Put your hood on and step inside."
I'd prefer it if y'all pinged me on Discord to work out a chatplay collab for the combat aspect of the magic test. That'd make getting through this thing a lot easier and faster than just bouncing back and forth in the IC for days. ;)
