![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
[Oct. 25/11] Casey's Room, Morning
Nov. 12th, 2012 01:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
space_caseyThere was something akin to a disturbance in the force today, coming from Casey's room. Or, rather, a telepathic blip, a pocket of worry that threatened to suck anybody nearby into it and leave them continuing down the hallway in a daze. And normally Casey was prone to some pretty good luck. It was right there in his stone, after all. But this...
"Where did it go where did it" go where did it "go?"
It wasn't anything important, except for how it was. It was a thing that followed him around, survived the worst and then the best but the best was really the worst and it was all still the same thing all over again.
It wasn't much and it was everything and it was gone.
At least Casey had the light on this morning while he tore his room apart, looking.
"Where did it go where did it" go where did it "go?"
It wasn't anything important, except for how it was. It was a thing that followed him around, survived the worst and then the best but the best was really the worst and it was all still the same thing all over again.
It wasn't much and it was everything and it was gone.
At least Casey had the light on this morning while he tore his room apart, looking.
[Sept. 17] The Library, Morning
May. 20th, 2012 03:08 pmsilentsorrowSaturday mornings were her favourite time to be in the library. Even the more studious of her classmates (but not hers, never hers) tended to have a bit of a lie-in on the first day of the weekend, after an evening spent hanging out and talking and unwinding from the week.
All of that was why she enjoyed the haunting quiet of the library when it was only her, the ghosts of students past, and Master Dominic, who was puttering about with paperwork and never gave her more than the barest of glances when she came in.
Here, there was silence, but it was a comfortable one instead of the achy, hurtful one she usually walked around in.
Even with a few ghosts lingering at other tables, though none were with her as she wandered the stacks of books, trailing her fingers down their spines, seemed more peaceful than they usually did. Sorrow knelt down in the romance section and tried to decide which ones she wanted to read next.
They were all bad, of course, but she liked that about them. They were fluffy.
Soft.
Not much in her life was.
All of that was why she enjoyed the haunting quiet of the library when it was only her, the ghosts of students past, and Master Dominic, who was puttering about with paperwork and never gave her more than the barest of glances when she came in.
Here, there was silence, but it was a comfortable one instead of the achy, hurtful one she usually walked around in.
Even with a few ghosts lingering at other tables, though none were with her as she wandered the stacks of books, trailing her fingers down their spines, seemed more peaceful than they usually did. Sorrow knelt down in the romance section and tried to decide which ones she wanted to read next.
They were all bad, of course, but she liked that about them. They were fluffy.
Soft.
Not much in her life was.
tomorrowrainIt wasn't often that Raine showed his face openly in the common area. At least, not in the middle of the day. Especially not on a Saturday afternoon, when nobody was likely to be in classes, and the room was more than likely to have quite a few people in it.
But the fact was, he was hungry. And even if he didn't see anything resembling a warm welcome in the common area in his near future, being able to pinpoint when he'd have an opportunity to eat again in the future didn't change the fact that he was hungry now.
Maybe if he just... kind of kept his head down, he could slip in, grab some cereal or something, and slip out again before anyone started whispering too loudly.
The trick, he was learning all too quickly, was to just avoid eye contact and to not listen too closely to the people around him.
But the fact was, he was hungry. And even if he didn't see anything resembling a warm welcome in the common area in his near future, being able to pinpoint when he'd have an opportunity to eat again in the future didn't change the fact that he was hungry now.
Maybe if he just... kind of kept his head down, he could slip in, grab some cereal or something, and slip out again before anyone started whispering too loudly.
The trick, he was learning all too quickly, was to just avoid eye contact and to not listen too closely to the people around him.
ground_meAllison tapped her laminated class schedule against her cheek as she made her way down a hall she hadn't been before. Huge windows showcased an equally huge field and if she stopped and squinted through the sunny glare, she could spot areas that looked a little charred.
Well, there was a reason this area of the school wasn't for those who had no reason to be here. Allison hadn't yet decided what she thought of the fact that she was here, though anything had to be better than setting things on fire when she got upset.
She grimaced a bit while she counted doors. There were worse things than the fires, really, but they were more noticeable to others. Allison supposed that was a good thing. She stopped outside the fifteenth door and double checked her schedule to make sure it was the right one.
It was. She was stalling. That's dangerous, she scolded herself, and then tucked her schedule into her backpack. Then, before she could think better of it, she rapidly knocked on the door (to give her tutor the heads up she was here, in case they weren't one of the ones that could just tell that) and opened it.
"Morning!" she said, poking her head in.
It was one in the afternoon.
Well, there was a reason this area of the school wasn't for those who had no reason to be here. Allison hadn't yet decided what she thought of the fact that she was here, though anything had to be better than setting things on fire when she got upset.
She grimaced a bit while she counted doors. There were worse things than the fires, really, but they were more noticeable to others. Allison supposed that was a good thing. She stopped outside the fifteenth door and double checked her schedule to make sure it was the right one.
It was. She was stalling. That's dangerous, she scolded herself, and then tucked her schedule into her backpack. Then, before she could think better of it, she rapidly knocked on the door (to give her tutor the heads up she was here, in case they weren't one of the ones that could just tell that) and opened it.
"Morning!" she said, poking her head in.
It was one in the afternoon.
[Sept. 3/11] Casey's Room, Evening
Feb. 25th, 2012 06:53 pmspace_caseyCasey hadn't been out much since getting back to the academy.
He could hear them. Every last one of them. Except for the ones that he couldn't, of course, except they weren't here at all. There were the happy ones, firsties, the lot. They didn't know. Didn't know and he couldn't tell them, and it was all confusion there, and hard to tune out. Impossible. The ones whose family wouldn't look at them. The ones who missed home. The ones who couldn't find their family.
And the others. Always the others, this time of year. The ones mourning, but from a distance. They knew. They always knew. Every year, there were some. This year?
This year, he couldn't hear any at all. They weren't here. They were gone. It had been terror and excitement and worry and more terror and then sharp pain and then gone.
Gone gone gone gone gone gone gone and the only ones who knew were everybody but them. They were nothing but silence, now.
With his hands clapped to the sides of his head, Casey curled up on the floor in the corner of his room, staring at the carpet. He'd spent a summer in relative silence, well away from here. And now he was back here, and all there was to do was drown in the silence. This year, it was so much louder than the incessant chatter of the firsties.
The firsties who would be the nexties, soon enough.
He could hear them. Every last one of them. Except for the ones that he couldn't, of course, except they weren't here at all. There were the happy ones, firsties, the lot. They didn't know. Didn't know and he couldn't tell them, and it was all confusion there, and hard to tune out. Impossible. The ones whose family wouldn't look at them. The ones who missed home. The ones who couldn't find their family.
And the others. Always the others, this time of year. The ones mourning, but from a distance. They knew. They always knew. Every year, there were some. This year?
This year, he couldn't hear any at all. They weren't here. They were gone. It had been terror and excitement and worry and more terror and then sharp pain and then gone.
Gone gone gone gone gone gone gone and the only ones who knew were everybody but them. They were nothing but silence, now.
With his hands clapped to the sides of his head, Casey curled up on the floor in the corner of his room, staring at the carpet. He'd spent a summer in relative silence, well away from here. And now he was back here, and all there was to do was drown in the silence. This year, it was so much louder than the incessant chatter of the firsties.
The firsties who would be the nexties, soon enough.
Thrones Friending List!
Dec. 27th, 2011 02:17 ampuffinmuffinOkay! For the sake of ease, I'm tossing together ye olde friending list, to be copied and pasted into the command console by our new journals so that we don't have to manually add everyone a million times all over the place like the crazies we are. Yay!
( So, here goes: )
( So, here goes: )
[Sept. 1/11] The Cemetery, Early Evening
Dec. 24th, 2011 12:21 amange_du_sangThe cemetery, with its rows on rows (and rows on rows) of identical grey-stone markers, was tucked back behind Thrones. Raphael could never decide if that was because Thrones was hiding the cemetery—their shame; look at all the students who hadn't been worthy of being born twice—or if the cemetery was behind the school because death was what the school was built on.
A brisk breeze blew, tugging at his hair and his sleeves and the armful of flowers he carried. His feet left indents in the grass. No other sign of him existed to the naked eye. The cemetery's gate, which was large and wrought-iron, gothic-romance novel inspired (it had to be), opened wide enough for a boy (closer to a man these days) to slip through and then closed.
Raphael spat out the sprig of heliotrope he'd held in his mouth. Suddenly, inside the cemetery, had anyone been looking, they would have seen a boy appear as if out of thin air.
The cemetery was peaceful.
That was a lie, of course.
"Hello, my darlings," he murmured, slipping through the rows unerringly. They never answered back. That happy power was not his but that was all right as Raphael could do enough talking for all of them. He walked down a row of graves where the date of death was the same year, some five years ago, and laid a single flower on each.
"Abby," Raphael said, for she had detested that name and gone by her middle one, "your cat has gone missing again. I'm sure he will come back; he always does and yes, I'll feed him."
He settled himself down on the grave; his shoulders pressed against the letters of her name (Abigail June Walters) and Raphael looked up at the gathering clouds. "I hate you," he told her conversationally. "I hate all of you, really, but you especially. I think even your cat hates you, for leaving him with me. Stretched out underground / a boy and a girl / saying nothing, never kissing / giving silence for silence.*"
Overhead a bell rang, tolling deep and clear into the growing darkness. The dinner bell.
"The new children are here," he told her, though of course, she already knew. "Here to die—though they don't know that. More for the eternal garden. How many will you let past their gates this year?"
He lapsed into silence. Hours later, he added:
"You're the lucky ones," he told her, told all of them. "Death is better, a milder fate than tyranny.**" Raphael pressed one finger to his lips. "But tell no one that. They would not believe it of me."
[*is from Los Novios by Octavio Paz
**from Agamemnon by Aeschylus]
A brisk breeze blew, tugging at his hair and his sleeves and the armful of flowers he carried. His feet left indents in the grass. No other sign of him existed to the naked eye. The cemetery's gate, which was large and wrought-iron, gothic-romance novel inspired (it had to be), opened wide enough for a boy (closer to a man these days) to slip through and then closed.
Raphael spat out the sprig of heliotrope he'd held in his mouth. Suddenly, inside the cemetery, had anyone been looking, they would have seen a boy appear as if out of thin air.
The cemetery was peaceful.
That was a lie, of course.
"Hello, my darlings," he murmured, slipping through the rows unerringly. They never answered back. That happy power was not his but that was all right as Raphael could do enough talking for all of them. He walked down a row of graves where the date of death was the same year, some five years ago, and laid a single flower on each.
"Abby," Raphael said, for she had detested that name and gone by her middle one, "your cat has gone missing again. I'm sure he will come back; he always does and yes, I'll feed him."
He settled himself down on the grave; his shoulders pressed against the letters of her name (Abigail June Walters) and Raphael looked up at the gathering clouds. "I hate you," he told her conversationally. "I hate all of you, really, but you especially. I think even your cat hates you, for leaving him with me. Stretched out underground / a boy and a girl / saying nothing, never kissing / giving silence for silence.*"
Overhead a bell rang, tolling deep and clear into the growing darkness. The dinner bell.
"The new children are here," he told her, though of course, she already knew. "Here to die—though they don't know that. More for the eternal garden. How many will you let past their gates this year?"
He lapsed into silence. Hours later, he added:
"You're the lucky ones," he told her, told all of them. "Death is better, a milder fate than tyranny.**" Raphael pressed one finger to his lips. "But tell no one that. They would not believe it of me."
[*is from Los Novios by Octavio Paz
**from Agamemnon by Aeschylus]
[Sept. 16/11] Raine's Room, Night
Oct. 18th, 2011 08:40 pmtomorrowrainAfter his talk with Sorrow's brother in the garden, Raine had retreated fairly quickly to his room. His cigarettes were soaked through, Sorrow was nowhere to be found, and his stone was going insane trying to force-feed him snippets, possibilities.
It was more than a little overwhelming. He'd sat down on the edge of his bed, sodden clothing and all, and put his head between his knees, trying to catch his breath. Trying not to feel so dizzy, at least. It wasn't working out so well for him. But, at least, so long as he was thinking about not asphyxiating to death or something, he wasn't paying much attention to the possibilities that were flitting through his mind.
Raine was going to consider that a win.
It was more than a little overwhelming. He'd sat down on the edge of his bed, sodden clothing and all, and put his head between his knees, trying to catch his breath. Trying not to feel so dizzy, at least. It wasn't working out so well for him. But, at least, so long as he was thinking about not asphyxiating to death or something, he wasn't paying much attention to the possibilities that were flitting through his mind.
Raine was going to consider that a win.
[Sept. 16/11] The Gardens, Early Evening
Oct. 5th, 2011 09:50 pmtomorrowrainThis wasn't his garden, and Raine knew it. It was hers. Sorrow's. But sometimes he borrowed it too, when there was a gap in his consciousness, when the shivers and whispers and suggestions in the back of his mind told him that he could have it to himself, and the whispers were rarely wrong, these days.
There hadn't been any whispers tonight, though. He'd just desperately needed fresh air, couldn't barricade himself in his room all the time and couldn't keep his head up at the dinner table and was so, so damn tired of smiling all the time while other people flung their jeers and barbs at him.
His name wasn't Jasper, but it was starting to feel as though that was all that he was allowed to be, anymore.
And so he sat in the gardens, his book in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and he looked up at the sky as the clouds drifted in. It would rain soon, even though the forecast had called for cloudless skies and a warm night. That on its own was almost enough to make him smile, just a little, as the first small drops of water soaked into his hair, ran down his face, and splattered onto the pages of the only book that he ever bothered to pick up, these days.
All it took was a stone to make liars out of the most experienced of the career fortune tellers. But then, most people didn't bother listening to the weatherman in the first place, did they?
There hadn't been any whispers tonight, though. He'd just desperately needed fresh air, couldn't barricade himself in his room all the time and couldn't keep his head up at the dinner table and was so, so damn tired of smiling all the time while other people flung their jeers and barbs at him.
His name wasn't Jasper, but it was starting to feel as though that was all that he was allowed to be, anymore.
And so he sat in the gardens, his book in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and he looked up at the sky as the clouds drifted in. It would rain soon, even though the forecast had called for cloudless skies and a warm night. That on its own was almost enough to make him smile, just a little, as the first small drops of water soaked into his hair, ran down his face, and splattered onto the pages of the only book that he ever bothered to pick up, these days.
All it took was a stone to make liars out of the most experienced of the career fortune tellers. But then, most people didn't bother listening to the weatherman in the first place, did they?
notjustwhispersThere was something rotten in this school.
It had nothing to do with the fact that the Aaron guy (whatever he was called) in his class muttered about doom all the time, or the way that the teachers paid very little attention to them--half of them didn't even acknowledged raised hands in a classroom which went against everything he'd picked up from all his previous teachers. It wasn't even the fact that the only people who treated his grade normally were, well, his grade.
Though that played a part in it. He didn't give a damn about most of his seniors.
But, see, the thing was--he'd been as this school since Thursday. It was Tuesday. He'd heard nasty rumours of that girl, what was her name again?, who was being ignored by her brother. He'd heard about the boy who couldn't find his sister and she was supposed to be here.
Seth liked to think he was a reasonable, logical sort of guy. His parents agreed. He was steady. He was deliberate.
Which would be why, not even a week after he'd started school, he'd skipped his afternoon classes and positioned himself down the hallway Sarah would have to walk, in order to get to her next class.
He folded his arms over his chest and waited.
See, unlike the girl who'd been crying over her brother, Seth wasn't the sort to cry, or complain that his sister was avoiding him, though she was.
No, he thought, I'm the sort that does something about it.
That suited him just fine.
It had nothing to do with the fact that the Aaron guy (whatever he was called) in his class muttered about doom all the time, or the way that the teachers paid very little attention to them--half of them didn't even acknowledged raised hands in a classroom which went against everything he'd picked up from all his previous teachers. It wasn't even the fact that the only people who treated his grade normally were, well, his grade.
Though that played a part in it. He didn't give a damn about most of his seniors.
But, see, the thing was--he'd been as this school since Thursday. It was Tuesday. He'd heard nasty rumours of that girl, what was her name again?, who was being ignored by her brother. He'd heard about the boy who couldn't find his sister and she was supposed to be here.
Seth liked to think he was a reasonable, logical sort of guy. His parents agreed. He was steady. He was deliberate.
Which would be why, not even a week after he'd started school, he'd skipped his afternoon classes and positioned himself down the hallway Sarah would have to walk, in order to get to her next class.
He folded his arms over his chest and waited.
See, unlike the girl who'd been crying over her brother, Seth wasn't the sort to cry, or complain that his sister was avoiding him, though she was.
No, he thought, I'm the sort that does something about it.
That suited him just fine.
[Sept. 7/11] The Gardens, Afternoon
Jul. 31st, 2011 09:51 pmsilentsorrowIt was not strictly the gardens that she had secreted herself away in. There were nooks and crannies all over the school grounds, filled with benches and trees and flowering bushes and vines. It was one of these, tucked around the very edge of the gardens proper and thus usually overlooked, that Sarah had claimed as her own years ago.
The nook was cold from the presence of spirits for all that none were visible at the moment. A statue of some ancient mage, in flowing robes, stood over her with his hands upraised. His pedestal made an excellent support for her back as she leaned against it and the grass was still soft and green—autumn had not yet touched it. Sarah toyed with the grass, unbothered by the chill of ghosts, and raised her face to the sun. Her lunch had been eaten and she had the afternoon free to do as she wished.
What she wished was to be exactly where she was, alone and forgotten by all but the dead.
The nook was cold from the presence of spirits for all that none were visible at the moment. A statue of some ancient mage, in flowing robes, stood over her with his hands upraised. His pedestal made an excellent support for her back as she leaned against it and the grass was still soft and green—autumn had not yet touched it. Sarah toyed with the grass, unbothered by the chill of ghosts, and raised her face to the sun. Her lunch had been eaten and she had the afternoon free to do as she wished.
What she wished was to be exactly where she was, alone and forgotten by all but the dead.
Character List for Thrones Academy
Jul. 31st, 2011 07:12 pmkillaurey( Read more... )
NPCs
9th grade:
- girl whose brother is an upperclassman
- boy whose sister died at Thrones
Others:
- Magdalene Valenchy, the only mage to have died three times and come back ever. Legendary.
NPCs
9th grade:
- girl whose brother is an upperclassman
- boy whose sister died at Thrones
Others:
- Magdalene Valenchy, the only mage to have died three times and come back ever. Legendary.
silentsorrowSupper at Thrones Academy was always quieter at the end of the year.
At the very beginning of the year, it was different. Older students found their tables—some claimed in years past, others rearranging themselves to suit how friendships had changed over the course of the two month long holiday all returning students had endured—while the newest class, the ninth graders, congregated at the tables set up for them. In the weeks that followed they would realize that they were allowed to move to other tables. And they would realize that no one wished them to do so.
For now, they were thoroughly engrossed in talking to those of their year and the rest of the grades were varying degrees of relieved about it. The new kids did not notice the way that the Headmistress, Lenore Aubrey, did not at them even once for all that their tables were closest to her.
The older students knew why.
At the very beginning of the year, it was different. Older students found their tables—some claimed in years past, others rearranging themselves to suit how friendships had changed over the course of the two month long holiday all returning students had endured—while the newest class, the ninth graders, congregated at the tables set up for them. In the weeks that followed they would realize that they were allowed to move to other tables. And they would realize that no one wished them to do so.
For now, they were thoroughly engrossed in talking to those of their year and the rest of the grades were varying degrees of relieved about it. The new kids did not notice the way that the Headmistress, Lenore Aubrey, did not at them even once for all that their tables were closest to her.
The older students knew why.
Timeline for Thrones Academy
Jul. 30th, 2011 04:18 pmkillaureySeptember 1st, 2011
- Sorrow and Raine meet at dinner. Sorrow lends Raine her novel and flees.
- Liam and Aron meet at dinner. They plot to find out what's going on with the enrolment records because they're idiot boys.
- Cassidy and Alexis talk during dinner about classmates, science, and Alexis' changing her subjects for the year.
- Raphael skips dinner and visits the cemetery. He broods.
September 3rd, 2011
- Casey isn't faring well with the influx of new students in the school. Raphael stops by and lets the silence of his mind prove to be useful for Casey. Then they go set out things for Monster, Raphael's cat.
September 6th, 2011
- Seth tracks his sister down. It doesn't go well.
September 7th, 2011
- Sorrow reads in the gardens. Raine brings her back her book.
September 9th, 2011
- Allison has her first lesson in pyrokinesis with Dover as her tutor. It goes badly, but not as badly as it could have.
September 16th, 2011
- Raine broods in the gardens, at Sorrow's usual place. Seth, looking for his sister, finds Raine and after a spat, Raine offers to help Seth out. They don't find Sorrow and Raine has a negative reaction to his powers.
- Raine, feeling like crap, broods in his room. Cassidy is sent to check up on his health thanks to Seth's interference. Cassidy gets her way, Raine doesn't. Leith is a jackass. Raine has another negative power reaction and Cassidy drugs him with power suppressants before healing him.
September 17th, 2011
- Sorrow is in the library bright and early to look over the romance novels. Dover is there to do the same. They wind up switching books and Sorrow learns about Dover's new student.
October 8th, 2011
- Raine slips into the common room for some food. Allison is lounging on the couch. They wind up talking, very awkwardly, about waffles. The peace can't last.
- Sorrow and Raine meet at dinner. Sorrow lends Raine her novel and flees.
- Liam and Aron meet at dinner. They plot to find out what's going on with the enrolment records because they're idiot boys.
- Cassidy and Alexis talk during dinner about classmates, science, and Alexis' changing her subjects for the year.
- Raphael skips dinner and visits the cemetery. He broods.
September 3rd, 2011
- Casey isn't faring well with the influx of new students in the school. Raphael stops by and lets the silence of his mind prove to be useful for Casey. Then they go set out things for Monster, Raphael's cat.
September 6th, 2011
- Seth tracks his sister down. It doesn't go well.
September 7th, 2011
- Sorrow reads in the gardens. Raine brings her back her book.
September 9th, 2011
- Allison has her first lesson in pyrokinesis with Dover as her tutor. It goes badly, but not as badly as it could have.
September 16th, 2011
- Raine broods in the gardens, at Sorrow's usual place. Seth, looking for his sister, finds Raine and after a spat, Raine offers to help Seth out. They don't find Sorrow and Raine has a negative reaction to his powers.
- Raine, feeling like crap, broods in his room. Cassidy is sent to check up on his health thanks to Seth's interference. Cassidy gets her way, Raine doesn't. Leith is a jackass. Raine has another negative power reaction and Cassidy drugs him with power suppressants before healing him.
September 17th, 2011
- Sorrow is in the library bright and early to look over the romance novels. Dover is there to do the same. They wind up switching books and Sorrow learns about Dover's new student.
October 8th, 2011
- Raine slips into the common room for some food. Allison is lounging on the couch. They wind up talking, very awkwardly, about waffles. The peace can't last.
