NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Alright, here is the start of the real IC rping for the World of Magic Rp, but please do not make many responses directed towards me specifically as I cannot have any hopes of being able to reply to the dozens of posts that may well be made here everyday. Yet, feel free to chat with each other all you wants and if you any questions post them on the sign up thread. As well, classes will start in which feel free to create any teacher trait, except saying they do not do there job, in their personality, as well you cannot create teacher names as they have been supplied.

House Locations:

Draco: Northern Bastion

Dryad: Northwestern Curtain

Hippogriff: Eastern Tower

Leviathan: Southern Peel Tower

Nymph: Manor Near the Lake

Satyr: Western Halve of the Dungeons

Titan: Western Tower House

As for the entry to the house residences the entrances will only open for a member of that house due to a magical spell placed on all the entrances to them.

Marvel made a point of flying up to the front door--and not on any broom or anything, either. He didn't walk, he flew. On his own wings. Like he hadn't done in public in years.

It felt so good not to have to pretend he was a human! This was a magical school, filled with magical people--people who could understand that sometimes the magic is in people who aren't...human. Not that humans were so bad, it was just that there should be some room for variety in the world! And Marvel was it!

He was going to find some friends here--friends who would like him for what he was and not what he pretended to be. And they were going to party tonight, just to celebrate their diversity--or whatever else they wanted to party over! It really didn't matter that much, as long as the party was on.

He coasted in and came to a landing right in front of the school's huge, oaken door. Knocking gently with his big, red hand, he said, "Marvel here. Is school open yet?"

Samantha left the Satyr homeroom and stretched. Already her mind was working on what the evil agenda for her day was to be. She hoped it would prove more fun that going to her classes, she didnt feel like work today. Samantha headed for the closest place for her to get some food before heading out for the day.

OOC: In lands of invincible heroes with near-godlike powers, I like to make Marvel a little more humble. He fails. He's caught unaware. He gets bored and angry and doesn't think clearly. This makes him a little bit humble when he needs to be. :) :) :)

IC:

"A magic WHAT?" asked the gargoyle. Despite himself, he spread his wings slightly in frustration.

"It is called 'a wand,' Mr. Marvel," Mrs. Ye replied, "and we all carry them."

The only student who had wings to spread stood at what appeared to be an old, wooden desk. About thirty of them were arranged in neat rows, facing the teacher and the huge chalkboard at the front of the room. There were no windows, and the walls, though painted a cheerful cream-beige, showed signs of age. The paint was cracked and pocked, and an occasional scorch mark showed through where some spell, no doubt, had gone wrong on the poor wretch who had cast it. All in all, it was fairly homey--for a human artifact.

"But--what do you need a wand for? I mean, don't you just form the spell and let it go--like THIS!" The red-skinned student spread his hands and out flew a little ball of light. It landed on the ground just in front of the teacher and burst into a thousand crystal points of illumination.

Mrs. Ye wasn't in the mood for an explanation. "Mr. Marvel," she said, her voice taking on a particularly stuffy tone, "do I need to remind you that it is against school rules to cast unsanctioned spells in class?"

"Awww, c'mon! It's just an illusion! It can't hurt anybody! If you want, I can make something appear from the magical explosion, too--like a puppy," he said, spreading his hands as a cute bulldog with big, soft eyes appeared on the floor, "or a bird," as he spoke, the puppy morphed into a white-plumed cocateal, "or--."

"That will be quite enough, Mr. Marvel," Mrs. Ye scolded.

"--or a big, scaly, fire-breathing dragon!" The image morphed again. This time, a huge, green-scaled lizard rose over everybody's head. It roared. Mrs. Ye turned and drew her wand--but she was too late. As she stood there, the dragon blew a tempest of flame down onto--and all around--her. When it was done, she was unharmed--but soot black. As the prank was finished, the dragon disappeared, the spell having been shut down through Mrs. Ye's expert magic.

"There, Mr. Marvel. See what your going off half-cocked has gotten you?" she asked.

The entire class burst into laughter.

Mrs. Ye took a look at herself.

Her eyes narrowed to angry little slits. The white eyes almost disappeared into the blackened face. "You will be reporting to me at the end of class, Mr. Marvel, and again at the end of your school day. It is obvious that, before you can learn anything in this class or any other, it will be necessary for you to learn to respect your instructors. Now, remove this...curse from my person!"

Marvel gently closed his fingers. All traces of soot disappeared from Mrs. Ye, leaving her purple pant suit, ruffled collar and brass-framed glasses clean and intact. She turned and went back to her chalkboard. Her eyes were still little slits against her face, but she was like a storm now, gathering strength and waiting to strike.

"And you say that you cast these spells using only your hands," she said.

"You mean...you don't?"

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Marvel came back to the dungeons late that evening. His arms ached from putting magical books on shelves, and his ears ached from the way that some of them had complained after he got tired. Fortunately, he'd managed to keep his fingers far enough away from the pages that they hadn't been bitten. It was fair punishment, he guessed--but he still thought that his little prank was hilarious.

The ritual had been repeated in several other classes--the sneers, the scolding, the arrogant little demands.

Yes, sir, Marvel was going to get himself a magic wand, alright--just as soon as he figured out a way to mine the money that it would take to buy one. With him having no family to call upon, that might take a while.

Rafzekael sat in the Draco common room, idly levitating a book. Now why did this seem familiar?

Kain, however, sat in the main hall eating breakfast and looking around. He was new, and not used to the sheer scale and grandeur of the hall, nor the hundreds of other people.

"House Satyr," he said with a smile. "Surprise, surprise." Actually, he'd already spent his first night there. It just seemed natural for him.

The teachers gave him the feeling that he would have to be careful. There were some subtle differences between him and his human companions that he hadn't been aware of when he came to this place two days before--and, judging from the way things were going, there would be more surprises in store.

His avian metabolism made it hard for him to sit still through classes--and binding his wings did nothing to relieve it. It also caused him to eat more than his fellow wizards. He'd gotten some funny looks in the Great Hall that evening, but had defused the situation by cracking a couple of jokes. He forgot who it was who said, "The best way to destroy your enemy is to make him your friend,"* but he was right.

He was also, it seemed, more sensitive to magic than most of those around him. He could feel, taste a spell--and, today, he'd realized that different spells have different "flavors." He was going to have to learn to recognize them--as soon as he figured out how to set hands on a magic wand of his very own.

Funds were going to be a problem. He couldn't do a song and dance show at the school, because nobody here had any more coin to part with than he did. He couldn't hit up the teaching staff--that would be tacky. So he would just have to...find a way to make a wand for himself. It couldn't be that difficult.**

Padding over into the kitchen, Marvel opened the cooler and took out a small carafe of red wine. Being of age had its privileges. He smiled a satisfied smile and took a deep drought.

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OOC:

* Abe Lincoln (if it ain't obvious).

** Famous last words. :) :) :)

It appears that non-human characters are barred from DMG's thread. This precludes my participation there...so I'll just have to keep on posting here.

Would not mind if a couple of the other Satyrs would meet my character. Might be fun. :) :) :)

(((OOC: I ain't a Satyr but what the hey.)))

Kain saw Rafzekael come into the hall, and quickly bolted towards the kitchen.

Rafzekael sat down at the Draco table. He clicked his neck and looked around. He sighed and opened his bag, taking out 'A History of Curses throughout the Ages.' He liked this book. The illustrations made him laugh.

OOC: When I wrote "kitchen," I meant the kitchen in House Satyr--but I failed to specify that. Quite frankly, putting him in the Great Hall is more to the point anyway. I think I'll RP it THAT way. :) :) :)

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IC:

As Marvel wobbled back toward the dining tables, he bumped into someone who came whizzing in through the door. He was almost as tall as Marvel, but much less muscular. The young man bounced off and looked to be headed for the floor. Marvel extended an arm and, to his surprise, not only managed to keep his balance, but steadied them both, despite his ever-so-slightly inebriated condition..

"Hi," the Red Gargoyle said with a smile. "You fall into this place often?"

"Hi," the Red Gargoyle said with a smile. "You fall into this place often?"

Kain said something garbled, then shook his head and said, "I'm trying to hide from someone... Know anywhere good?" His head kept darting around, looking for possible places of exit or entry.

Marvel looked at the young man, then, with a wry grin, said, "Well, they always said that the best place to hide something is where everyone can see it, so..."

He raised an arm, and what looked like a space in the wall between a corner and a cooler transformed into a wall that was flush with the cooler.

"It's just an illusion," Marvel said, "so you can walk right through it. The only way anybody would catch you is if they'd memorized the exact appearance of this kitchen--and, since the castle is always changing, that's almost impossible.

"By the way, m' name's Marvel, what's yours?"