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It is always nice to see LGBT marriage support on the forum.

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Olivia's Diary Entry | December 16​

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« Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung​

On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring. »​

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{ ♫ } || olivia's room ♛un thé des roses blanches

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"... Miss Olivia, rest assured that we are fated to die in less than eighty-four days. "

Throughout the entire explanation, Olivia held the white rose close to her lips as she stared intently at Miss Lein, her smile growing as she continued to hear all of which seemed to be but an enchanting libretto to her ears. Her previous deductions about this little mystery then, did indeed seem to be correct. But the e-mail was of a supernatural, paranormal force? Olivia would not put it out of the question. Especially if it would be able to create such burning desire as the murder of a fellow player in their little game.

But upon hearing Miss Lein's statement about the eighty-four days they had left, she could not help but giggle softly. By this time, the winter sky had eclipsed itself with its curtain of cold, mountain stars. The tea between them had finished, and Olivia felt very satisfied -- her belly filled with delectable Darjeeling, and her mind filled with new information. She seemed to take the news about their death very calmly, if not pleasantly.
"Well then, my fine Miss Lein, I certainly hope that in the eighty-four days we do have left, we may at least share enough cups of tea together to find a way out of this menace." She smiled pleasantly.

She placed the white rose close to her lap and began thinking. There were indeed a few names in the e-mail, but Olivia paid little attention at the time. Indeed, she, and many of the others who received the e-mail here in Brookridge, considered it no better than a simple prank; a chain mail. The very fact that nothing had happened to them for the past sixteen days served to reinforce that. But Coy City? The children of Bellhurst? It would be clear to connect these strange shenanigans -- the flood, the deaths -- to this e-mail. The coincidences were too prevalent to be simple coincidences. Olivia bit her lip and looked down at her lap -- at her white rose -- as she deduced her conclusions. She would be able to meet the surviving receivers of the e-mail from all of the incidents in Coy City. What a show that would be.

She looked back up at Miss Lein, her eyes sneaky and cunning, yet retaining an air of calmness. "I must give credit to the survivors who have found themselves here. Lorinda ... mm, yes-- she is certainly a proactive one for bringing you all here. I suppose you can understand my clear lack of concern for the message I received. Many of the students that make themselves home upon the stage of the Academy dance around claiming that it is but a fake chain letter. And I can surmise, from the very ordeals you have all been put through -- poor souls -- you, most of you, all did consider it a chain letter yourselves." She placed the white rose close to her lips again. "Such is the way of the suspicious soprano. She screams out in terror, her voice a charming serenade of fright and nightmare. Let the sweetness compel your senses in its harrowing essence; its warning of a future to come ..."

Olivia stared deeply at Miss Lein's blue eyes for a long while. "Your cousin, Mr. Jackson, he is of little interest to me anymore until he can prove himself not a mur--" She quickly corrected herself. Her eyes flashed closely. Murderers. Murderers. She did not like them at all. She would positively hate them, and she certainly felt she did at times. "--One who gives into desires limiting the expression of other beauteous human lives. It ashames me to have the very thoughts of murdering a fellow human being enter my very head. I need a shower, Miss Lein, to cleanse my thoughts and calm my mind, but please, mull over what you may while you are here, as it would be a pleasure to host the night to you. You may sleep on my bed, as it is freshly clean. I shall take the extra on the other side of the bath, so we may have some privacy but only consult each other when we need to. It is an oddity of the Ashvale, these dormitories, where the very beds of roommates are separated far enough between each other. But please, if you feel the need to engage in midnight pleasantries, I am certainly all ears. Especially with the topic of the e-mail, for I am intrigued. It has been a pleasure taking tea with you, Miss Lein."

Ah.
Was there going to be another roommate for Olivia? It was possible. She noticed the name "Alyssa" on the list. It had been a fairly long while since the last time she had hosted a roommate, and she certainly hoped that this -- "Alyssa" character appreciated the decor she set up. If not, Olivia would have to engage in -- exercises, to educate the uneducated on the pleasant tastes she bore in this very room. But she would have nowhere to sleep?

And were was her little friend? It was not like her to be gone for this long. Was the letter she bore really important this time? She would have to make proper arrangements with all of these, then.

Olivia got up and bowed very slightly to Miss Lein, as she placed the white rose back on the table. She moved off to the bathroom and briefly took a shower, before changing into her silvery night gown. She returned, her bare feet warm upon the wooden floor, and her wet hair seeming to further her ethereal, ghostly look.
"Please pardon me for my current attire, but there is a change in plans. I must be taking my rest close to the window tonight, as I am on the lookout for a certain friend of mine -- and have been so for the past day, I must say. I shall be resting by your bed side for the night, down on the warm floor and carpet by the window. As my heart is made of ice and crystal, I am very much used to the cold, so I need not a blanket or any extra protection." Martial training and extra time in the mountains truly did wonders to one's soul. "I certainly hope you do not mind the presence of a -- guardian angel, you could say, at your feet, protecting you from the deep baritones of a Brookridge mountain night. Cities are much warmer than places off in the mountains, Miss Lein." Olivia winked at her and, grabbing one of the many pillows on her bed, sat down by the open window, looking outwards to the stars. It only took but a few minutes for her to drift off to sleep, but even in her dreams, she could not shake off the feeling of intrigue and mystery that this e-mail gave her.

The last time she had surfaced through such a truly wonderful mystery, almost as it if were something out of her novels, was when she was but a young girl at the Mansion in the mountains, and she would be hard-pressed to ever wish to remember any of the characters in that depressing little operetta.

He is a graphic innovator for bringing Bauhaus principles to forum signatures. It is art that none of us peasant commoners would ever be able to understand, you see!

So this is how one dances to dubstep.

These periodic explanations are enough. We should put a full stop to them.

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Olivia's Diary Entry | December 16​

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« Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung​

On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring. »​

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{ ♫ } || olivia's room ♛un thé des roses blanches

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It was an immensely terrifying feeling that Olivia had been unable to describe. The desire had briefly gripped her heart -- a dark desire of sulking, shadowy desperation. Olivia, for once, had been unable to explain this. Who was John? Why did she wish to kill him to such a terrible, terrible extent? She had been sweating, her eyes steady, and upon locking them with Miss Lein's, realized that she and Mr. Jackson seemed to share the same desire.

They had been unable to save Mr. Jackson from going off in his attempt to murder this "John" character, but Olivia knew better than that. She was a refined young lady. It was in her blood to be able to successfully vanquish any strange, alien desires that had come across without her consent and without her person. Albeit, this one was a particularly hard challenge.

So she grit her teeth and quickly informed Miss Lein to retreat to their room as soon as possible. There was absolutely no way she would give in to this desire. She would never give in to any of these terrible, alien, desires, no. They eloped in shadow, and it only took them a brief moment to reach Olivia's room at the very top floor of the girls' dormitory. By the time they reached Olivia's room, the murderous desires ebbed away.

Olivia shut the various locks on the door with a swiftness of hand that seemed to signify the blood of a mechanic or engineer coursing through her veins, as if the metalwork was simply natural to her. She looked around her room, which appeared as normal as it always had been. A small bed, wreaths of roses along the walls, her laptop and television, ornately decorated wooden chairs, an enormous gilded cabinet containing all sorts of items from teas to herbs, and lovely violet satin curtains by the window which gave the room an old fashioned atmosphere. Upon a small table by a few chairs rested a porcelain tea set with scintillating golden trim, which contrasted with an extremely futuristic -- almost post-modern water heater made of stainless steel. Two roses, one white and one red, lay by the pot. Vases of white roses elsewhere seemed to fill up extra space in the room. Boxing gloves hung from the wall, and below them were sets of various fencing blades -- two prominent epees and a saber with a gold-trimmed pommel seemed to be the most significant among them. Impressionist paintings and a few microphones hung from other parts of the walls. Off near the solid mahogany desk, where Olivia's laptop sat and the light reflected elegantly off the interplay of silver and gold, a small workspace covered in neatly-arranged nuts, bolts, and metal scraps seemed to be the only items out of place in this outlandishly old-fashioned setting.

The entire room carried with itself an air of care and collected contentedness. Yet at the same time, it was clear that below these layers of choruses sat the air of a burning passion that poked itself out through how every item in the room seemed to be giving off flames of powerful, burning personal strength. It was a room of contrast, where the sopranos and the baritones sang together to form a perfect harmony.

Olivia ran over to the window and opened it to the breeze. The setting sun cast a warm glow throughout the room, and the room's various gold decals adopted a radiant amber glow in the light. The satin curtains flew back behind her, almost dramatically, as a few winds quickly burst through the open space before settling themselves.

"I-- I apologize dearly, Miss-- Miss Lein," Olivia said with soft exhales of fatigue. She had not had to run like that in a while. She deeply inhaled, moved her delicate gloved hands before her chest, and regained her calm composure. It seemed as if she had not been so tired and worried at all. "I must keep the window open to make sure my little friend can enter soon, I certainly hope you understand!" Olivia held a gloved hand to her u-shaped mouth in another soft giggle, as rich as the amber light in the room. "Please, take a seat by the tea set, and relax yourself. I do believe we shall be in here for a while. I would not enjoy it if my guest was prowled upon by malicious, bloodthirsty zombies of desire. Would you care for some Darjeeling? It is very tasty, as I am sure you are quite aware."

Olivia sat down by the tea set and opened a small porcelain container containing rolled tea leaves, delicately holding the top with two fingers. She snapped on the water heater, and a low, calming hum emanated throughout the room. It only took but a few minutes for the water to heat to its correct temperature. Olivia poured the water gently into the tea pot, and holding the porcelain container tightly in her hand, dropped some into the pot. She rested it between them, and handed a cup and saucer to her guest.

"Let the tea steep for a bit. Darjeeling has a very delicate flavour. I have milk and I have sugar for all your needs, Miss Lein." Olivia smiled, with no trace of her previous discontent over the strange, murderous desire. "I certainly hope you enjoy my humble room, and I apologize for the mess. It is a shame Mr. Jackson is unable to join us, however. Do you perhaps happen to know where he may have wandered off to? I am a tad -- how one would say -- worried, for the young man? He certainly ... gave into his desires very quickly, I must say." Mr. Jackson was most definitely an intriguing character.

"Let our small oratorio of relaxation and simple decadence begin when our Darjeeling is fully suitable." Olivia glanced at her laptop for a moment, her face turning flat, before turning back to Miss Lein. "Until then, I must ask--" Olivia quickly glanced behind her, towards the open window. There was no sign of her friend. The voices of the winter wind had died down, reduced to but whispers. Olivia inhaled deeply.

"Who is this-- John gentleman, we were supposed to murder?"
"I shall certainly have you know, if this is a strange prank done by the former residence of Bellhurst--" She lowered her face and sharpened her eyes at Miss Lein, observing her deeply.

She picked up the white rose, leaving the red rose on the table, and gazed at Miss Lein above its petals.

"It is not in the best interest of our family at Brookridge to be involved in these ... shenanigans that border on the ... supernatural." Her tone was not aggressive or antagonistic, but rather very calm and gentle. At the same time, however, it was decisive and assertive, carrying seeping notes of experience and authority within itself.

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◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ debate ▣ mood: tired ▣ interaction: ▣ ooc: ◢​

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The Faculty of ... what was it? Pharmaceuticals at Brookridge? It was a large building -- very ornate for his tastes, especially as something connected to the even larger castle that was the Faculty of Sciences. Was it French Gothic? Cherno didn't know. He couldn't really care right now either. He was so tired. So goddamn tired. Where was everyone? They all left him. Jesus, he just couldn't catch a break, could he?

At least he was here. He stepped into the building, entering its main wooden doors with a gentle, wooden shove. He-- fuck, goddammit. What was-- jesus christ. He used his left hand. It was still bandaged from hitting the table, but why did it hurt so much? And no, it wasn't as if it was his knuckles were in pain. It was-- it was his actual hand, as if he had a burning gash or cut right there.

Was his scar acting up?
Oh-- oh no ...While he was here, it would be best for him to perhaps grab something for his hand.

Cherno took out the package he received in the mail and held it close to his chest. The one he was not supposed to open yet. Well, now he could, but it was better if he met the perpetrators behind this. He walked through the dark hallway, a few dim lights casting an eerie, almost medieval glow through the building. The wooden floors creaked slightly under the weight of Cherno's heavy winter boots. The building was virtually desolate, and as Cherno peered into the windows that revealed the other rooms and classes of this building, he noticed that they, too, were empty. Okay. Sure.

int logic ( ) {
There's no one in this entire building?
Classes have not started yet.
The building must be empty because school has not technically opened yet, for lessons.
}

At the end of the hallway, he reached a door which bore a brass metal plate marked "FACULTY ADMINISTRATION". Finally! For god's sake, this building was like a crazy maze from the product of Victor Hugo's nightmares. Cherno slowly pushed the door open. A loud creeeeeak echoed through the hall behind him--

AAAAAAACK!

Cherno jumped. Who the-- what-- why was there someone motionless staring directly at him from the other end of the room? He was surprised to notice one person sitting there, calmly looking directly at him from the dim lights. What the hell? Were--- were they expecting him to come?

It was an old lady. She wore thick glasses and a lab coat, and held a small bag tightly, as if she were afraid someone may come to steal her belongings. She glanced expressionlessly at Cherno, and seemed to stare directly into his eyes.

◤ ♪◢​

the medicine seller | infinite tangent ratio​

"Greetings," She said. Her voice was extremely monotonous, almost robotic. There was little to no trace of feeling behind it. She cocked her head to the side, like a cat, her mouth flat. "--you bastard." Whenever she inflected a word, it immediately gained a sarcastic, caustic tone.

Who the hell was this lady? Jesus christ. She gave Cherno the shivers.. Cherno, without saying a word, tried to back away into the hallway. There-- there was no way he wanted to talk to someone like this.
"S--Sorry friend, I-- I-- uh, I think I've got the w--wrong department, you dig?" He laughed sheepishly, and began to step back.
"I see you're in possession of my package, you imbecile. Please take a seat so we may discuss a few things. Ahahahahahahahahaha."
The door slammed behind Cherno.
God damn.

He slowly took a seat, carefully looking around to make sure there were no traps, or cameras, or anything else of the sort. What did he get himself into? Ugh-- this-- this really wasn't what he was expecting with something like this.

"W--what do you want ..." Cherno said, quietly, looking away.
"You may call me the professor of medicine, you fool." She smiled for once, and flashed an extremely sinister, toothy grin at Cherno. Cherno's eyes widened.

Why did this lady seem so familiar to him. He could barely place it. There was just something ... off about her. But that wasn't what was important right now. If she truly did give him this package, he needed to know about it quickly.

"P--Professor," Cherno said. He gulped. "Professor, why exactly did you give me this package?"
The professor did not move her body an inch, continuing to stare at Cherno with a flat face. "Everyone has reasons. Reasons reasons reasons. I have a reason. Would you like to hear that reason?"She was just toying with him! "Get on with it!" Cherno yelled.
"Please learn to have some etiquette, young man. The Academy is prestigious and you must learn to adapt." She flashed another toothy grin.
Cherno sighed and apologized dejectedly.
"Please open the package, you bastard."
"What?"
"Open the package."

Cherno looked at the package and undid the blue ribbon. The top came off easily--

Oh.

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh goddammit what was-- what was this doing here? Don't-- don't say that-- the old Cherno actually needed these?! Cherno's eyes widened deeply as he slowly picked up the item in the box, holding it between his shaky fingers.

It was the bottle of painkillers he left all the way back in Trembling Mountain.
This couldn't be happening.
"How-- how did you--"
"It must be hard, you know."
Cherno could not say anything, only frowning in awe at the lady.
"It must be hard when your memory is taken away and all you can do is get the support of little old painkillers and little old me. Ahahahahahaha." She flashed a devious grin again.

Take-- take away memories?
How did she-- she know? How the hell did she know? Someone took them away?
Cherno jumped up.
"What-- what the hell? Who are you!" He yelled his voice slowly raising higher and higher. "Who are you, really! I know I've seen you before but my memory is so jive-stompingly fogged right now that it's dillydallying up anything I can think of who you are! I know you're-- you're a relevant sister to my little old past, you dig! Speak up! Dammit, tell me! Fucking tell me! I'm tired of this! I want to know who everyone is! I want to know who I am!"
"Doing that so quickly would be against the entire intention of your memory loss, you bastard." She cocked her head--

Wait.
Intention. Intention?
No-- did-- did someone plan for Cherno to lose his memory? And cause all this grief? What in the hell was happening right now? Ugh.
Cherno's headache was growing terrible. He held a hand to his temple, and placed the painkillers on the table. This was too much. This was all too much. He didn't want to deal with this right now. Who everyone was. Who he was. He just-- he just wanted to-- to leave. Get away from it all.

Cherno fell to the ground in a faint, unconscious. Sleeping.

The professor of medicine descended from her stool and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

It exists! I thought it was only a product of my dreams, like Atlantis, or Shangri La, or Delaware.

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Olivia's Diary Entry | December 16​

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« Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung​

On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring. »​

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{ ♫ } || astronomy tower ♛oratorio des étoiles​

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As Olivia listened intently to the girl's answer to her little test while her cold eyes scanned the skies for her little friend, a change came about her. Her posture became just a very bit more upright. A gentle smile formed across her face. Her free hand suddenly stopped swaying in the lazy winter breeze. Of course, she took care to make sure that the two behind her would be unable to discern anything beyond a small shift in movement of her body. In reality, she was overjoyed. Not only was this new student able to answer her question perfectly and to immaculate detail, but she did it with such a grace that rivaled the very doves that would occasionally soar through the skies of Brookridge on a spring evening.

Olivia did not say anything in reply to the girl, instead intent on drawing patterns in the air outside the window with her dangling gloved hand. Oh where oh where could she be? At least these two would keep her company. And she was satisfied with their presence. It was not often Brookridge received someone as well-learned as this girl, even for being a very aristocratic institution. She had little reason to need to reply -- there would be no point confirmed an answer already known as a fact among two people, after all. So instead, her reply was a soft humming of the very Ave Maria the girl had spoken to her about, and her downy notes carried the breeze high up in the tower and across the wings of the mountainous air.
" . . . But where are my manners. " The girl began, after her explanation. She would be saying her name soon, as expected. Olivia's ears perked up, and she raised her head a bit, but she did not move from her position.

" It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Kallisti Quintus Lein. The boy behind me is Harley Jay Jackson, he is my cousin. "

Kallisti ... Lein?
Lein?Aha. Olivia's eyes lit up.
So she brought her own granddaughter here intentionally. Perhaps she was the one involved in the little transfer of all the Coy City students. It was no wonder someone who struck such a chord with Olivia would find herself right before her on this very afternoon. Similar minds have similar thoughts, after all. Olivia wondered if the ... older Lein would be interested to tea with her granddaughter as well.

" What shall I call you, miss? "
Olivia stood up from her resting position upon the window sill, turned around to meet them, the edges of her warm silver-blue dress fluttering very slightly in the frosty winds. She gazed at the two before her with sharp and observant eyes, which adjusted themselves warmly as she had a better idea of these people. New students, most certainly -- and certainly older than her. She held a gloved hand to her mouth as she let out another giggle. She felt giddier than usual on this particular day, hm? The boy looked like something very much out of a cave of Sybil, and the girl's blue eyes were positively electrifying. The sort that would allow anyone to fall into the enchantments of this lady.

Olivia smiled and extended her gloved hand towards them.

"How do you do?" She giggled again, closing her eyes. "It is a fine pleasure to meet a couple as educated as yourself in the midst of winter." Opening them, she turned to face Miss Lein's deep blue gaze. "You especially, my dear Miss Lein. It makes one proud to know that there are many people who are familiar enough with the lieder of Schubert."

"You may simply call me ... Olivia." She briefly turned her gaze to the window before looking back at them. How strange. Her little friend had yet to return. "I feel that my ... surnames, are fairly irrelevant, and though you shall come to know them in time, I find it best to understand the characteristics of a person by knowing them as themselves. Wouldn't you agree?" She smiled calmly again, but continued to look into Miss Lein's blue eyes.

"Your eyes are like Lorinda's, you know. I hope you consider that a compliment, because I think of it so. She is a very learned woman, and her penchant for the arts would make her a superstar in Ravensview if she ever decided to leave the Academy, which would be armageddon for us all, truly." Olivia moved to adjust one of her opera gloves and bit her lip. "I would have hoped that you would be able to reach the high expectations a woman such as Lorinda sets, but I, Miss Lein, believe that you have already surpassed them at such a young age."

She looked back at them and turned her attention to ... Mr. Harley Jackson was his name, yes? He had not spoken a word since arriving with Miss Lein. She placed a finger to her lip. Wait a moment. Their names. Harley and ... Quintus. Oh. Oh, how ... amusing. The Lein and Jackson families had a terrible sense of humour, even after all these years! Lorinda would need some explaining to do afterward.

"Mr. Jackson, you have not uttered a single word since your arrival with Miss Lein. Or am I simply too indescribable for your tastes?" She tilted her head and winked. "I am very much interested in your voice, you know. How one presents themselves -- the very soul of their being -- is emitted in fractions by how they word things. And I am rather positive that you, Mr. Jackson, must have a soul and voice as lovely as your cousin's."

She turned back to the window for a moment. "So please, Mr. Jackson, I request you and Miss Lein to-- perhaps join me on a stroll through the Heliocanthea. We may visit my little room in the Ashvale -- that is, the girls' dormitory -- for some tea, perhaps? I must know all about the new students. Would you be interested?"

And she certainly was interested in these two. It was not often they had attendants from Coy City on the property -- students, nonetheless. At the same time, a stroll through the Heliocanthea would give her a better view of where her little friend had flown off to.

But there was something odd about all of this, biting Olivia at the back of her mind.
These new students were from Bellhurst, damaged by the flood, yes?
The very same Bellhurst whose students had all perished very recently under extremely mysterious and odd circumstances, some of them.

She needed to get to the bottom of this mystery -- and this possible connection.

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Olivia's Diary Entry | December 16​

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« Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung​

On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring. »​

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[/url]"That was very beautiful."

Oh? It was ... an unfamiliar voice.

{ ♫ } || astronomy tower ♛oratorio des étoiles​

An unfamiliar voice. An unfamiliar voice that brought with it a set of footsteps -- no, two sets of footsteps. How quaint. These birds that decided to land upon Olivia's overturned shoulder today. And whomever may they be, interrupting her singing in this surprising manner? She certainly hoped that even without her singing at the moment, her little friend could find her way back here.

Olivia lay reclining gracefully towards the edge of the window, her lightly gloved left arm daintily swaying to and fro in the calm mountain breeze as she rested her chin upon the window sill. It was a certain surprise to the girl, she would have to admit. How often it was that someone came across the Astronomy Tower of all places, especially in the day? She smiled to herself a bit dimly, tinged with melancholia. In all of her time at the school, she was unable to trace the origin of this sweet voice, which had tickled her ears like gentle raindrops upon new spring leaves. She held a gloved finger to her lips in concentrated remembrance, but it was to no avail.

This young lady was a new student, was it? How pleasant. How very pleasant indeed. Olivia giggled to herself sweetly - a gentle, kind laugh that waltzed with the frosty December air. She let out a soft sigh and let the silence between them act as a deluge that would increase the conditions of the little test she would put the origin of this lovely voice through. Without her song, the only arias that echoed through the tower were those of the winds themselves.

She did not turn to see the two standing behind her, and instead continued to look out towards the distance, beyond the Astronomy Tower. She drew circles in the frigid air with her free, dangling hand, just below the window.

"My my," She began. Her voice was like a delicate February frost, airy and light, yet refreshing and sharp. It was calm and deliberate, and almost playful, as if it were but a mirror of the clear weather at the time. "I certainly did not expect to have my little session interrupted now. If the students of my homeroom hear that their little representative is in such a strange location, the hoi polloi would have an uproar." She giggled again, but continued her search towards the mountains, and her little test. She did not even turn her head slightly at the people behind her, and she felt she had little reason to. All could be discerned by the very manner in which a person presents themselves.

"I can tell, from the very vocalisations of your rhetoric, that you are a very, very educated young lady. Is that true, or am I simply -- how would I say -- filling myself with falsities?" She held her free hand up to her mouth in another sweet giggle. "Do you, perhaps, my fine mademoiselle, know which song exactly I was serenading the kind hearts of the frost with, on this fine winter morning?"

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Crash.

By the time Allison had left, it had only taken a few minutes of silent pondering before Cherno realized something was not right. Dark clouds had gathered extremely quickly. Too quickly for them to be caused by any normal natural occurrence.

Cherno jumped up like a spring and ran past the reception building into the central courtyard. Where were the others? Were they okay?

◤ ♪◢​

academy courtyard - hastings gardens | descartes' first quadrant​

He rushed outside into the school's first enormous courtyard. The size threw Cherno off guard-- it was absolutely immense, with elegant grassy fields and meadows and gardens with all sorts of flowers, holding small canals, benches, fountains, lights -- it looked very much like something at the Louvre, or a Bavarian castle, or even an old university campus. He stepped forward with sharp eyes, his coat fluttering gently in the early morning winds. Enormous, imposing gothic buildings extended their spiny fingers from the delicate, flowered earth off in the distance. What sort of buildings were these? They all looked like they had some importance, but the largest building was the closest one. Could they have gone there?

And then.

Crack.

What's that sound? It sounded ... distant.
Were they even here?

Cherno fell to his knees for a moment, grimacing and holding his hands to his ears. He grit his teeth, stood up, and began darting through the meadows and morning dew, past the fountains, over the small canals to reach the main building. Enormous lacquered doors met him with engraved letters that gazed back at his stare lazily and uncaringly.

"GRAND HALL"

Cherno entered. It looked generally identitcal to the Main Hall, if not a wee bit more ornamental, and much larger. He looked through the closest large rooms, and the mess hall, but no, nothing. He turned to one of the enormous arched windows. The clouds were disappearing. They-- they were okay right?

Where had everyone gone? Cherno took out his phone and texted Anthony.

This was a shame. He may have to check out the rest of the building himself. He was curious about one thing though.
He re-read the text message with Temperance's letter -- but what interested him more was the header and footer, which seemed to call to him.

His stomach growled.

...
No! He would have to settle something first. Settle it first. This begged too many questions. Cherno exited the Grand Hall and walked off back into the central courtyard.

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◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ debate ▣ mood: dizzy ▣ interaction: allison ▣ ooc: ◢​

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Bwaaaah!
Who--
Cherno looked up from his slouched position to see the confused, inquisitive face of a black-haired girl. Who was this, now? He-- wait, she was at the hot springs with Harley, right? Aaaack. He didn't even remember her name. Cherno grimaced in pain for a moment as he attempted to scrounge his memory, but to no avail. His face loosened back into a jovial grin.

"H--hey there! Glad you could make it! Uh," He paused. She wanted Harley -- and Quin. Of course. Where did those two go anyway?
"I haven't the foggiest, sorry there. Maybe looking around the place can help you see them? I'll come with in a jiff. I just-- I just need a bit of rest. Did ya ask the lads and lassies still out by the cars?" That's right. He wondered why John and Anthony were taking a bit longer than he expected them to. Where were Harley and Quin?

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Cherno stepped out of the monorail and deftly walked towards the enormous, looming building in the distance. In the blistering shadows of the night, the enormous walls of the Academy extended brightly out of seas of gardens and trees around it. It only took him a brief moment to approach the main gates of the school, but when he did, his mind -- to put it simply -- could have never comprehended the sheer size and magnitude of the entire school.

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{ welcome to the brookridge academy of excellence } ​

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Cherno stepped into the Main Hall. Softly-lit torches adorned old, wooden-paneled walls carved intricately and inlaid with gold. This was more a castle than a school, wasn't it? His feet echoed loudly upon the black and white marble floor, and he slumped down on one of the nearby velvet seats in the foyer. Above him, an enormous chandelier hung from a fresco painted high upon the structure's arches. And this was only the reception building.

He didn't want to check into his room just yet. He would wait to see what the others were up to. But for now? For now, he really liked this place.

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brookridge monorail | nightlife clockwise radiation​

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Cherno gazed on intently at the sickened John as he explained his heart out to them. Annalynne. Annalynne. That-- that e-mail. Thank god Cherno still remembered the things to do with the e-mail. He guessed they were just that significant, right? He held a hand to his chin, pondering and turning over all which John explained about the situation. Annalynne was the witch that Crestatia seemed to hate. Who was it that even solved the riddle? Oh. He absentmindedly rested his good hand on Anthony's head in a fit of unconscious affection. Disasters? Eclipses? The earthquake. Did-- did Cherno really knock his head hard enough on Tyrone's table to have missed all of those insane weather shenanigans. If the harrowing events John described were accurate in detail -- Cherno's eyes widened -- this was definitely getting serious.

John looked desperate. Cherno was flat-faced and walked over to him, holding him by the shoulders. He gazed sharply into John's fiery, evangelical eyes -- and what he saw in them was definitely a sense of fear, a sense of uncertainty. Even in him, out of all of them. In this empty car, the dimmed lights served to host the expanse of dark forest that served as the train's only outside company.

Annalyne was in one of them. But it was clear that this would be their advantage.

"John," Cherno began, still holding him steady. "There's no question that your little friend Hyperborea will rightly be protected. Because she'll be protected faster than a jive robin lindy hopping down Baker Street like it was a West Coast grill, you dig, brother?" Hyperborea was the name he said, right? "Steady yourself, man. We need to clean up the mess. Both on the floor there and up in this shizzle grill house that we call a relationship among all of us with the e-mail."

He let go of John and turned to Anthony, but absentmindedly spoke to both of them in the depths of his thoughts. "This here is an advantage. We've got little Annalynne by our side at all times, and there's no question about protecting her, even if she was just Hyperborea, because all of the e-mail go-getters are in this together, right?" Even if he barely knew them. "We've come to get a funky little detail from this. Namely, we know to play this game intelligently. Sure jolly, I'm happenstance with that, what say you?"

"I think it'd be the best if the others knew about playing the game intelligently. To me," Cherno coughed a bit. The riffraff was still noisy from the few cars away. He didn't want to think about anything involving that situation right now. In fact, he had been overjoyed to hear his friend talking about something he wanted to be more pressing. "To me, it mighty seems like our jolly fellow friends are already busy not playing the game intelligently. Amends, amends are necessary!" Cherno dramatically threw his hands up into the air.

A signal sounded.

Ding.

Cherno glanced at the ceiling.

The Brookridge Monorail has reached Academy Station.
Please exit along the sides.

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The hairs on the back of Cherno's neck stood on end as he heard Heidi bring up the topic. Why did she have to do that? Why did she have to blurt it out? John seemed to be positively sick after trying to get them to the other side of the train. Quin was trembling, and Harley was fired up, virtually ready to bash in the girl's face. Why was he so angry?
Even right now, Cherno hated her for the holes she seemed to expand in his heart. But it seemed ... a bit more dim to him?
He just.
After seeing what Temperance had been through.
And the letter.

He stood up. He felt like hitting Heidi right now, but at the same time, he didn't want to. His legs were shaking and he closed his eyes as he walked over to the girl nearly across from him.

The letter.
She wasn't a bad kid.
She just didn't understand, did she?

He turned towards the direction of Harley.
"Friend," He said, in a shaky voice. His throat was hoarse. He didn't even want to defend Heidi. But-- but he did at the same time? This was such a terrible feeling.
"I don't think it would do any of us any good if we start grabbing at each others' throats so soon after two-- I--" He gulped. This was so hard. So very hard. The words were like weights in his throat. But he kept his lowered eyebrows and steely gaze upon Harley's light eyes. "We don't want repeats. We've got to learn from our mistakes. Try and understand she didn't mean any harm with what she said, you dig? She's a bit like a little kid, you know."

He hid his violently shaking hands within the pockets of his coat, and his frustrated gaze glanced across the room.
He should probably go check on John soon. Cherno walked away to the other car, raising his hand in a gesture of farewell to the riffraff as he went to go check on John and Anthony. His senses couldn't handle this garbage right now. His bandaged hand felt like it throbbed a bit.