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'So it begins.'

Professor Oren Kovalenko, an angular figure with dark hair and a long blue coat, watched the numerous new students filing in, passing through the front office and signing off on forms with a sceptical eye. Well, one eye was on the throngs of their new intake, the other was on her phone where she was busy informing any staff members that were not already aware that the first large bus had pulled up and the place was beginning to fill up.

And she didn't expect a group of young mages to maintain any standard of behaviour for very long.

Especially not ones that were more often than not rich, privileged, sheltered, and had never been taught how to properly behave.

Speaking of that-

Norwegian shouting from the entranceway. Oh christ.
From where she was standing Oren could make out three figures at least a head taller than most of the people filtering around them. A woman in he late thirties with long, grey-flecked ginger hair and a crimson coat on, and a hulking man with a beard you could lose a family pet in, both hugging and saying their goodbyes to a third figure. Younger, but still with nearly a foot of height on the Professor, with a mop of red-orange hair and a voice with a strong nordic accent that was carrying over near enough everyone else's together.

Norrevinters.
No mistaking those.

With one deft movement Miss Kovalenko stepped back into the shadow of one of the hall's pillars, and melted into the darkness without a word.

Somebody else could handle Ren's spawn and the ginger storm. She'd see to making sure no-one had started killing each other in the common room.

As it was some students had started eating, or introducing themselves. Oren materialized out from behind the door, quite alarming several students who'd been milling round up there, and proceeded to check over the status of things.

Over to one side, on an otherwise yet unoccupied table, a small figure was slumped over the the surface, next to what was now the degenerated milky sludge of a bowl of cereal left uneaten beyond its time, and something that long ago ceased to be a hot drink.

Her long, rather untidy-looking red hair was spread across the table like seaweed, and she was wearing a blue sweater lined with knitted purple cat faces, the phrase 'Have a Mice Day' inset into the back and front. It was at least two sizes too big and luridly coloured enough that the student was clashing with the furnishings.

Professor K came to a halt behind the student, regarding the girl with her look of pitiless reptilian distaste before finally speaking up.

"Are we boring you already, Kingsley?"

The redhead awoke with a start, knocking her bowl astray with one hand and splattering the fortified mud across the surface.

The Professor remained perfectly stationary whilst one of her charges scrambled, blinking, to try and both stem the flow of milk from the upturned bowl, and address her at the same time.

"Oh..no! No Professor! I was just um...is it breakfast time?"
Apparently only just realising how many others had entered the room, the student known as 'Kingsley' gave a rather sheepish smile.

Kovalenko's expression however was her usual weary mask of disapproval.
"Well Kingsley that is what everyone else is doing, if you would like to try and catch up with the timetable, I think it would probably be beneficial for you. And please try and avoid wasting food in the future."

"Y-yes Professor..." the girl hastily responded, pale cheek reddening a little as the watched the aquamancer turn and walk off down the row.
"...so that's the year off to a good start..."










Reserve me my grumpy professor and that goddamn fire princess please, haha.
The Citadel


Commander Green watched, with his usual,y slightly amused impassivity, as shortly after Commander Botrelle's departure, the other representative of the biological warfare department, stood up and walked out of the meeting without a word.

His mile widened ever so slightly, before he addressed the visitor's question.

"No, Commander Lovette, it's not common practice here for people to simply walk out of interdepartmental meetings." he responded.
"...most have a little more sense than that.

On that note, we must press on and take a vote in regards to my proposal to outsource certain work from the medical research department. All in favour of assigning some alchemists from biological research?"


There were more than a few hands raised, taking advantage of the opportunity to both shirk potential additional workload by offloading it onto someone else, and the opportunity to do it without that someone else knowing they'd been one of those to do so.

"Very well if there are no objections that should work out wonderfully."


Shortly after, the door opened and they were greeted by the base's Viceroy himself.
"Quite well Viceroy Varren, quite well. We've had a few unplanned absences due to circumstances, but we've managed as best we can. I believe matters are more or less worked out."
It was an average night.

Helena sat in a rowing boat in the middle of a lake, the surface lit by a multicoloured sheen, helping a giant rabbit haul in a fishing net full of bone china teasets.

Quite normal as it went for Helena.

"So." The rabbit announced as it removed a pastel pink teacup from the netting precariously with its pas.
"You seem a little quiet today, is something the matter?"

The young woman shook her head, avoiding much eye contact with her companion as she searched for the lid to go with the teapot she was holding.
"Oh, no...just not had a lot to talk about. Not much going on right now."

She sighed.
"I dunno Rabbit. I sometimes feel like I'm not really doing anything with my life. Like...you've got your fishing.. and The Archer has hunting and I think...I really need a purpose or something. "

The Rabbit shrugged his shoulders and set a saucer on one of the seats of the boat.
"I'm sure you'll find your calling in time Helena. It's all a matter of patience. You know, when I was your age-"
He stopped, long white ears twitching.
"Get the oars. Something's coming."

Helena pushed herself up into a standing position, struggling not the rock the laden rowing boat, and stumbled across to reach for the oars. As she did the girl couldn't help but look out across the wide expanse of the lake.

That was where she saw it. The water was turning black. It was sweeping in towards the two of them, a featureless, formless cloud of darkness that had taken over the coloured patina of the lake.

She grabbed hold of one oar, but as she tried to seize the second, her arm bumped the edge, rocking it free of the rings and onto the water. Helena cursed and scrambled over to the side, dropping onto her knees as the boat bucked and lurched from the sudden movement. She flung her arms out over the edge, reaching out toward the disappearing oar, only to find herself staring into the dark water...and seeing the huge luminous eyes staring back at her from the abyss-


Knock Knock.

Helena Kingsley's eyes flickered open. Someone was knocking at the door.

She took a moment to try and get some idea of her situation, before shouting out a rather groggy.
"..j-just a sec!"

What time was it?

Half-awake, Helena slid off of the bed and stepped into the chaos of her room. It wasn't especially big in size. The heavy clawfoot bed gave way to a colourful rug scattered with bits of half-finished drawings and novels. All across one wall was a bookshelf quietly overflowing with any number of volumes, and strewn across the remaining furniture were stuffed animals, art supplies, and whatever other curio the young woman had taken to collecting.

The room was sufficiently crowded with stuff that it took her a while to dig out some clothes. A mauve skirt. Aubergine leggings. A bright green T-shirt. And a large, baggy wool sweater with a mutlicoloured dinosaur on the front.

Armed with her standard sort of outfit, and hair hanging in limp fronds like a dead sea creature, Helena went to open the door.

"Good morning Helena, how are you today?" the figure stood in the doorway was quite familiar to her.

Tall, slender-looking, neatly dressed. His hair was silvery in colour and his eyes a bright, near unsettling green. They reminded her of something, but she really could not put a finger on it.

"Hey dad.. good...not so bad..."
the young woman mumbled, trying not to let on that she'd only just woken up, and most likely failing miserably at it.

"Good." came the reply.
"I just thought I'd let you know that I'm back for a few days and will be in my office if you need me. Brought you a few things back from my trip that you'll find downstairs." he smiled.
"Glad that all is well here. Hopefully I should not have to leave for the rest of the week so perhaps we can arrange the time to go somewhere?"

Helena nodded and lightened her expression. It sounded pretty appealing. Even as introverted as she tended to be, the place was starting to get a little claustrophobic.
"That'd be great."

Another, rather knowing smile from the man she called father.
"We'll talk about this properly when you've woken up...I'll see you later."
With that, he set off down the hall and out of sight of his adopted daughter.

Once he was well enough out of the way, Leviathan pulled a phone from his pocket and set off a call.
"I see there's been no progress. I'm rather disappointed. Little but minor abilities in near eighteen years of trying. I think we can consider our arrangement at an end.

No, I'm afraid I have given all the chances I can possibly afford. I have been very patient with you, but the time has come to look for an alternative technique. I'm terribly sorry to have to resort to this.

Yes. You will soon find out. Do take care."


The voice on the other end carried on speaking, but Leviathan pressed to end the call, with little interest in what they had to say.

If he was going to realize his plan he was going to have to resort to something a little more complicated.

Still. He prided himself as one never to shy away from a task. If something was worth doing, it was worth doing well.

And if this paid off, there was little limit to where it could lead.

Leviathan smiled, and, were someone watching through the windows of the big, isolated hour, they might have seen as his shadow on the hallway wall flickered momentarily, from that of a man to something vast and twisting, all teeth and coils.
Hi there! Kind of had to suppress a little squeak of excitement when I saw this, as I have been badly missing an opportunity to use some characters of mine I made for a previous Fallen London RP.

With that in mind, would a zailor hailing from the Chelonate work out? Loves harpoons, fermented shark blood, scars, and worshipping Storm. I was playing a little bit too much Sunless Sea when I wrote her up.

Alternatively I also have some oddly well-to-do honey addict who has a devil acting as a benefactor.
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