Gelatinous Cube

Welcome to Marchand!

I just set it up, so you could find a way to make your entrance there somehow.

Welcome to Marchand!

Orientation now over, the students began milling out slowly to find their dorms and settle in. Ray supposed it was time he too left as well. He had to focus on preparing his lessons and ignore everything else. He was utterly determined to make sure none of these kids fell prey to another man like Mathias. The nightmares had never ended, though the panic attacks were under control now. He still occasionally thought he caught sight of him in the corner of his eye on the street, or the subway or in his old apartment. He had to attribute part of his (now cured) narcotic dependency on the paranoia, but he couldn't cure the fact that Mathias had entered his brain, to manipulate him into joining a cult he knew nothing about.
He would die before letting another kid become a victim. It was just about the only resolve he had left, and he clung to it like a drowning man would a lifesaver in a storm.

He had become so wrapped up in his thoughts that he had blocked everyone else out around him and didn't realize he was scowling. Students he passed by and just barely avoided bumping shot him wary glances, and a few whispered to each other. He was a nobody in the grand scheme of things, but the higher noble houses were always after some piece of crippling gossip to tear somebody down with. Ray didn't think he registered enough interest, but he had been aware of the rumours revolving around him ever since basic training. He managed to silence them by being - even he would admit - a bloody good soldier. A ferocious man on the frontlines, possessed by a hatred for the Cult that his brothers in arms could only speculate upon behind his back.
He suddenly felt his shoulder brush roughly past somebody, and was met with an icy chill upon the contact that made his shudder. Ray looked up and his breath caught in his throat.
"Oh, Professor Montana. I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

Welcome to Marchand!

Well, it's high time I got Ray to leave the common room, so perhaps they could bump into each other and have a little interaction.

Welcome to Marchand!

Not entirely sure what to do with Ray at this point in time, so I'm going to be pretty quiet. I'll still be here, fiending for more updates though. I'll be ready to jump back in when the time is right.

What Are You Listening To?

On their next album I hope Coheed go back to big epic sounds like this. A massive 20+ minute epic wouldn't be unwelcome

Welcome to Marchand!

The council had not forewarned him of any of this. Could even they in all of their omniscient precedence have predicted that the first day -hell, the first few hours of the first day - would unfold this way?
Between feuding noble houses and bitter war heroes, Ray could scarcely figure out just what the fuck he was doing here. Nothing gave that question more of a weighted exclamation point than Roderic Montana being here.
Ray wanted to look away from him, pretend like he wasn't here, but his gaze was stuck on the enigmatic figure. The pair had met on two different sides of the war. During Ray's inauguration into the Doomsday Cult, and then on the front lines of battle on the side of the Council.
Roderic had witnessed first hand the moment Ray's hands had plunged that dagger into an innocent mans heart. Why he later showed up on the Council's side, Ray didn't know. He didn't care to know. He didn't even care to be here.

His attention was suddenly snapped away as a soft voice cut through the tension, like a doves wings in the wake of a thunderstorm. Once he saw who it was, Ray managed to relax. Madison Lovette was one of the few members of faculty that didn't make him nervous. He recalled their first encounter, and the mild embarrassment that ensued.
"Ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you," he had said. She had politely corrected him, without any shred of offense in her voice. Ray had apologized profusely as his cheeks reddened, but the way Madison had laughed the little error off had almost instantly endeared him towards the unusual man.
Ray was glad to have him in the room, directing things to their intended course.
He stood up now, holding his folder of papers behind him as he clasped his hands behind his back. Time to keep it together, it was just school after all, not the damn war.
Despite the number of recurring figures.

Welcome to Marchand!

The Matheos family are basically middle class nobodies. Ray was the malcontent, so if anyone has a connection to them it would be exclusively through him.

Welcome to Marchand!

With a cry that was like a bullet shattering glass, the whole room seemed to turn upon the violent nucleus of disruption in the room. Ray shot up out of his chair out of instinct, his half-eaten croissant bouncing on the floor under his chair, instantly forgotten. He looked to Oren and Maeve but saw that they were doing nothing, which perplexed him. If those two weren't springing into action, then was it really something that needed to be stopped? Ray knew their reputation and in limited dealings with them had come to find almost immediately that they did not suffer fools lightly. At the same time, Kora screamed like a banshee being fired out of a cannon, and wielding bowls of yogurt with the prejudice of a doomsday zealot.

His train of thought was halted abruptly by the calm, casual stride of a tall, dark individual. He felt his whole body freeze. Unlike Oren and Maeve, Ray had been in this man's presence before. Roderic Montana, a mercenary whose reputation in the war had preceded him. You didn't earn titles like "The Betrayer" or "The Devil Himself" without being one scary, scary motherfucker.
Even that was putting it lightly.
Before he could even realize what was going on, his felt his stomach clench and a wave of nausea flowed through him. He felt the powerlessness that could only be nullification. He wasn't close enough to be disabled, but he felt the residual effects of its dissipation.

His breath suddenly returned to him and he sat slowly back down, trying to appear calm and collected. He didn't think it would be too hard, nobody was paying attention to his side of the room anyway.
Fuck me...looks like peace time hasn't dulled his edge at all.

What Are You Listening To?

@SleepingSilence

I listened to about half of Act I and I thought it was great. Definitely a band I will pay close attention to.

Welcome to Marchand!

I'm sure they will be a lot of fun to teach...or try to teach, at least.