[RWBY] Sanctum IC III: A Gun Is Fine Too

[ImpSyndrome]

The third In-Context/In-Character (IC) thread in the Sanctum Academy RWBY FFRPG.

The city of Meadow lies peacefully in the grip of the mountains that provide the raw materials for the machinery it is known for, cradled between the tall peaks and a broad river that lets out into ocean a few miles south of the city. Aeroships are a common sight above the city, ferrying people and product in and out of Meadow while the average, everyday citizen goes about their business beneath the clear sky above and the unsettling sight of the broken moon above. Even more then Meadow's factories, the city is known for the grandiose collection of buildings that were built on a cliff over-looking the beach, the Hunter academy Sanctum. The trail between school and city is dangerous at night, haunted by Grimms, but such is life for everyone who doesn't have the good fortune to live one of the four cities to grace Vytal's surface.

Meadow itself is a large city but the biggest building is actually an arena that is currently being prepared for a tournament. Normally smog would be a problem but the use of Dust as an energy source and the common use of aeroplanes has kept pollution from being too serious of a problem. Some parts of town, particularly those closer to the river, are obviously worse off then some of the others with a sizable slum reserved for the occupation of Faunus.

Current OOC thread is located here.
Character registry is located here.
Previous IC thread is here.

[Landis963]

Hameth doesn't join in the clapping either; he's pursed his lips, staring at the plum form just past the door, swearing political vengeance under its breath. He does glance around and notice Rip failing to join in the celebration, and make a mental note to talk to him alone.

[Calemyr]

Frustrated and a little melancholy, Barlowe wandered back to the forge. His classes would be starting up in a couple hours, so he needed to warm up. More importantly, he needed to wind down. The idea of sparring with a student in his current state of mind worried him.

In a remote side room of the forge was his training room. Or, as he preferred to think of it, his quality control room. Pillars of various metals and alloys stretched from floor to ceiling, an inorganic forest. He changed out of his sad attempt at "professional attire" and into a more comfortable training outfit. He punched one of the pillars, listening to it ring in its fittings above and beneath. Then he punched another one, then a kick. As he allowed his mind to open up and his thoughts flow, he also allowed his body to find its own flow, weaving among the web of metal, striking out with whatever force it wished, surrounding him in a cacophony that muted the world outside his own thoughts.

There was too much going on. Too many things to think about. The faces of Rayne, Hamelin, and Zira hung in his mind's eye. The Huntsman deaths, so odd that even the Directors were worried. Mortemus, and all the synthetic Grimm that he brought to the table, and all the hushed rumors of his exploits. The headmaster and his erratic behavior, shutting out the Directors and recruiting Mortemus, giving the little sociopath just shy of carte blanche to do as he saw fit. Caelynn's kidnap and mutilation. Kaden and the memories and regrets her very presence dredged up. Rorokan, framed for Caelynn's capture, apparently by an old student... As he worked his thoughts out in his head, so too did he work his frustrations out on the pillars around him.

((Assuming nobody interrupts him.)) By the time he finishes, it's a half hour before his first class, and the metal in the room looks much worse for wear. He takes a clipboard off the wall and looks over each pillar in turn, noting how well they weathered the abuse. He had many more materials he needed to test, but now he had sixteen *clang* seventeen open spots for replacements. A few of the new experimental alloys impressed him, they hardly even looked dented!

((And so concludes my summary of the some of the plot threads we've had thus far.))

[Hawkflight]

If Aurum went to the infirmary, he'd see Zira there, attending to her work.

[Hattish Thing]

If Aurum went to the infirmary, he'd see Zira there, attending to her work.

He certainly did after dropping by his room to put away the assessment sheets. There's a lot of blood around his arm and Aurum made sure he'd look absolutely miserable. The arm is broken pretty badly, a bone sticking out of the skin at his elbow. Luckily, his wrist wasn't punctured. It's still a pretty bad break. He'll attempt to knock at the door or just plain enter the room, clutching his arm in what looks to be an incredible amount of pain. This arm is the one that has not had metal built into his bones below the skin. It's just a normal, if broken, arm. Aurum groans and speaks. Help me, please.... I was attacked! It hurts so bad... aghh!

[Hattish Thing]

Frustrated and a little melancholy, Barlowe wandered back to the forge. His classes would be starting up in a couple hours, so he needed to warm up. More importantly, he needed to wind down. The idea of sparring with a student in his current state of mind worried him.

In a remote side room of the forge was his training room. Or, as he preferred to think of it, his quality control room. Pillars of various metals and alloys stretched from floor to ceiling, an inorganic forest. He changed out of his sad attempt at "professional attire" and into a more comfortable training outfit. He punched one of the pillars, listening to it ring in its fittings above and beneath. Then he punched another one, then a kick. As he allowed his mind to open up and his thoughts flow, he also allowed his body to find its own flow, weaving among the web of metal, striking out with whatever force it wished, surrounding him in a cacophony that muted the world outside his own thoughts.

There was too much going on. Too many things to think about. The faces of Rayne, Hamelin, and Zira hung in his mind's eye. The Huntsman deaths, so odd that even the Directors were worried. Mortemus, and all the synthetic Grimm that he brought to the table, and all the hushed rumors of his exploits. The headmaster and his erratic behavior, shutting out the Directors and recruiting Mortemus, giving the little sociopath just shy of carte blanche to do as he saw fit. Caelynn's kidnap and mutilation. Kaden and the memories and regrets her very presence dredged up. Rorokan, framed for Caelynn's capture, apparently by an old student... As he worked his thoughts out in his head, so too did he work his frustrations out on the pillars around him.

((Assuming nobody interrupts him.)) By the time he finishes, it's a half hour before his first class, and the metal in the room looks much worse for wear. He takes a clipboard off the wall and looks over each pillar in turn, noting how well they weathered the abuse. He had many more materials he needed to test, but now he had sixteen *clang* seventeen open spots for replacements. A few of the new experimental alloys impressed him, they hardly even looked dented!

((And so concludes my summary of the some of the plot threads we've had thus far.))

Meanwhile, Professor Mogrym has decided to quit brooding over the balcony and heads downstairs. He's limping down to Barlowe's area, wanting to talk a bit with his fellow teachers. Mogrym will stride into the place, looking about for Barlowe with his eyebrow raised, a bit curious as to what the man's been up to. ...Ish now a good time, or....?

[AnimeKid]

Rokoran's Classroom

Seeing what happened Rip would find someone not joining in the applause. Apparently someone else understood the implications as well as Alexandra Rosenkranz silently put her palm to her face at what just happened. There was no one whom Alexandra hated more than Aurum. However there was a reason that she had never put her hands on him, even though her preferred method of solving these kinds of problems was to knock their teeth in. That being that Aurum would be the unprovoked victim of the attack. And he was defenseless.

Rokoran, however much he may dislike the boy, has just bodily hurled him out of the room. He didn't even have Aura to cushion his fall! The fact that he hurled him at all was enough to get him with something considering the that he was and adult man and full blown hunter who was using his powers on a fifteen year old civilian. That would bad for Sanctum, bad with a capital B! Alexandra sighed as she could only imagine where this would go. Really, she thought to herself, if a more temperamental teenage girl who was trained as a berserker could rein herself in why didn't Rokoran? Being obstinate was only going to exacerbate the problem.

[Hawkflight]

Zira frowned, jogging over to the boy as he entered. Using her aura to do a quick scan, she spoke.

"What happened?"

[Arkhosia]

Rokoran's Classroom

Seeing what happened Rip would find someone not joining in the applause. Apparently someone else understood the implications as well as Alexandra Rosenkranz silently put her palm to her face at what just happened. There was no one whom Alexandra hated more than Aurum. However there was a reason that she had never put her hands on him, even though her preferred method of solving these kinds of problems was to knock their teeth in. That being that Aurum would be the unprovoked victim of the attack. And he was defenseless.

Rokoran, however much he may dislike the boy, has just bodily hurled him out of the room. He didn't even have Aura to cushion his fall! The fact that he hurled him at all was enough to get him with something considering the that he was and adult man and full blown hunter who was using his powers on a fifteen year old civilian. That would bad for hunters everywhere! Alexandra sighed as she could only imagine where this would go. Really, she thought to herself, if a more temperamental teenage girl who was trained as a berserker could rein herself in why didn't Rokoran? Being obstinate was only going to exacerbate the problem.

Caelynn stands up.
Well played, Rokoran, I'm sure there won't be any negative repercussions.
She says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

[Hattish Thing]

Zira frowned, jogging over to the boy as he entered. Using her aura to do a quick scan, she spoke.

"What happened?"

He groans and moves to sit down, clutching his arm gently, only now staring down to really look at the wound. A majority of what follows is acting, but it still does hurt like hell, and Aurum really despises injury. He's more the kind to just stay back and manipulate from the shadows. Not get attacked. He's not good at that whole thing. That maniac of a Professor, Rokoran! The madman is... aghhh.... insane! He attacked me, unprovoked! Then he threw me through a door! I landed hard and my arm shattered like this... It hurts so bad... Aggghh! Feels like my entire arm is on fire... what kind of school allows maniacs to attack defenseless fifteen year old civilians! And let's the psychopath teach children! He winces and stops talking, the small motions causing him pain.

[Calemyr]

Rokoran's Classroom

Seeing what happened Rip would find someone not joining in the applause. Apparently someone else understood the implications as well as Alexandra Rosenkranz silently put her palm to her face at what just happened. There was no one whom Alexandra hated more than Aurum. However there was a reason that she had never put her hands on him, even though her preferred method of solving these kinds of problems was to knock their teeth in. That being that Aurum would be the unprovoked victim of the attack. And he was defenseless.

Kaden isn't applauding either, though she couldn't give a rat's tail about politics. She's been the outcast before, and it's hard to appreciate theater like this when you've been on the receiving end before.

Meanwhile, Professor Mogrym has decided to quit brooding over the balcony and heads downstairs. He's limping down to Barlowe's area, wanting to talk a bit with his fellow teachers. Mogrym will stride into the place, looking about for Barlowe with his eyebrow raised, a bit curious as to what the man's been up to. ...Ish now a good time, or....?

"Oh! Certainly, Moloch. Just preparing myself for classes - first day of the year and all, have to make a good impression. I'm just about done here, anyway. Something on your mind?"

[Hattish Thing]

Kaden isn't applauding either, though she couldn't give a rat's tail about politics. She's been the outcast before, and it's hard to appreciate theater like this when you've been on the receiving end before.



"Oh! Certainly, Moloch. Just preparing myself for classes - first day of the year and all, have to make a good impression. I'm just about done here, anyway. Something on your mind?"

Mogrym frowns a bit and will attempt to sit down on a nearby chair, leaning on the Hammer/Staff for support. He moves his good hand through his graying hair before sighing and speaking. Aye, shadly. Barlowe... Am I old? Are we gettin' to that age where we're nothing but.. artifactsh? Today, I tried to teach the shtudents a shimple philoshophy. An old philoshophy thatsh been around for centuriesh.... And I wash almosht completely ignored and blown off. A few even had the nerve to shay it to my face! Am... I jusht old?

[Landis963]

Caelynn stands up.
Well played, Rokoran, I'm sure there won't be any negative repercussions.
She says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Hameth nods, concern touching his features. I must say, sir, I agree. I did warn you that he wasn't interfering.

[ImpSyndrome]

[Rokoran's Lesson]

((When did this scene turn into a hate parade?

I'm shutting this down right now. We need to quit building up so much drama and get on with the lessons already. Can we please make an effort - all of us - to keep these distractions to a minimum from now on?))

Cael's outburst silences the Shades who were lauding Rokoran for ridding them of Aurum. The reality of the situation hits them all like a ton of bricks, and anxious murmurs fill the room. "No, there won't be any repercussions," Rip pipes up. "Mortemus was asked by the instructor to leave, and he made excuses. Even if the headmaster gave him permission to check on us, he was hidden in the back of the class, spying on us like an assassin, and he openly defied a Huntsman in his place of practice. In response, Prof. Rokoran exercised his right as an instructor at a combat-based academy to remove this disrupting element by forceful means. Whatever happens to Mortemus is a direct result of his disrespect for this school and for the people who run it...That's the story," he concludes, "and if we want to protect Sanctum, we'll all of us stick to it. As powerful as Mortemus' influence may be, he can't fight the facts when they're backed by unanimous testimony. If he tries to threaten us, we can back each other up, because we're all part of a team, and that's what we do for each other."

Taking a deep breath, the archer sits back down, hoping the others will finally calm down a bit, and asks, "Now, can we please get back to what we were meant to be doing here: learning?"

[Landis963]

[Rokoran's Lesson]

((When did this scene turn into a hate parade?

I'm shutting this down right now. We need to quit building up so much drama and get on with the lessons already. Can we please make an effort - all of us - to keep these distractions to a minimum from now on?))

Cael's outburst silences the Shades who were lauding Rokoran for ridding them of Aurum. The reality of the situation hits them all like a ton of bricks, and anxious murmurs fill the room. "No, there won't be any repercussions," Rip pipes up. "Mortemus was asked by the instructor to leave, and he made excuses. Even if the headmaster gave him permission to check on us, he was hidden in the back of the class, spying on us like an assassin, and he openly defied a Huntsman in his place of practice. In response, Prof. Rokoran exercised his right as an instructor at a combat-based academy to remove this disrupting element by forceful means. Whatever happens to Mortemus is a direct result of his disrespect for this school and for the people who run it...That's the story," he concludes, "and if we want to protect Sanctum, we'll all of us stick to it. As powerful as Mortemus' influence may be, he can't fight the facts when they're backed by unanimous testimony. If he tries to threaten us, we can back each other up, because we're all part of a team, and that's what we do for each other."

Taking a deep breath, the archer sits back down, hoping the others will finally calm down a bit, and asks, "Now, can we please get back to what we were meant to be doing here: learning?"

Hameth nods and subsides, relaxing.

Now I definitely want to talk to you alone, Rip.

[Calemyr]

Mogrym frowns a bit and will attempt to sit down on a nearby chair, leaning on the Hammer/Staff for support. He moves his good hand through his graying hair before sighing and speaking. Aye, shadly. Barlowe... Am I old? Are we gettin' to that age where we're nothing but.. artifactsh? Today, I tried to teach the shtudents a shimple philoshophy. An old philoshophy thatsh been around for centuriesh.... And I wash almosht completely ignored and blown off. A few even had the nerve to shay it to my face! Am... I jusht old?

"Ouch. Right for the body blow. Look, I wouldn't put too much weight on those kids. Look at what they've grown up with: We haven't had a Grimm offensive for a long time now, there's a relative peace between the cities, even the war with the Faunus is a only a fading memory, now. They had the chance to grow up in a time of peace. As far as they're concerned, Huntsmen are little more than romanticized policemen. Not soldiers. They didn't grow up listening to casualty reports, of battles won or lost, of the sacrifices Huntsmen were called daily to make. That's history to them, not reality. And what you told them, basically, was that they are expected to leave their friends to die. I know that's not what you meant to say, but that's what they heard. Is it a surprise they rebelled?"

"Besides, remember how we chose this year's freshmen. This 'accelerated curriculum' the headmaster is testing is going to be hard, so we looked for qualities that would help them endure it. Determination, confidence, faith, resilience, duty. In a word, stubbornness. We cherry picked the very best students to survive the curriculum and the very worst students to teach. So, really, don't be surprised when they give you more trouble than usual."

"Now: are you old? Well, yes. Sorry if that's not what you want to hear, but the simple fact is that you've done something that very few Huntsmen ever manage, and you didn't even cheat by retiring young the way I did. Every battle scar and every gray hair you have you came by honestly. If those students have half a brain, they'll soon realize that when an old soldier speaks, they darn well best pay attention. Most of them do, eventually."

[Hawkflight]

Spoiler: OOC:

Show

The third In-Context (IC) thread in the Sanctum Academy RWBY FFRPG.

The city of Meadow lies peacefully in the grip of the mountains that provide the raw materials for the machinery it is known for, cradled between the tall peaks and a broad river that lets out into ocean a few miles south of the city. Aeroships are a common sight above the city, ferrying people and product in and out of Meadow while the average, everyday citizen goes about their business beneath the clear sky above and the unsettling sight of the broken moon above. Even more then Meadow's factories, the city is known for the grandiose collection of buildings that were built on a cliff over-looking the beach, the Hunter academy Sanctum. The trail between school and city is dangerous at night, haunted by Grimms, but such is life for everyone who doesn't have the good fortune to live one of the four cities to grace Vytal's surface.

Meadow itself is a large city but the biggest building is actually an arena that is currently being prepared for a tournament. Normally smog would be a problem but the use of Dust as an energy source and the common use of aeroplanes has kept pollution from being too serious of a problem. Some parts of town, particularly those closer to the river, are obviously worse off then some of the others with a sizable slum reserved for the occupation of Faunus.

Current OOC thread is located here.
Character registry is located here.
Previous IC thread is here.

Thank you, Imp.

He groans and moves to sit down, clutching his arm gently, only now staring down to really look at the wound. A majority of what follows is acting, but it still does hurt like hell, and Aurum really despises injury. He's more the kind to just stay back and manipulate from the shadows. Not get attacked. He's not good at that whole thing. That maniac of a Professor, Rokoran! The madman is... aghhh.... insane! He attacked me, unprovoked! Then he threw me through a door! I landed hard and my arm shattered like this... It hurts so bad... Aggghh! Feels like my entire arm is on fire... what kind of school allows maniacs to attack defenseless fifteen year old civilians! And let's the psychopath teach children! He winces and stops talking, the small motions causing him pain.

Zira frowned as she moved to set the bone. "This will hurt a little," she said, proceeding to set the bone back in place before binding it with medical tape. "Professor Rokoran, though? It's not like him. I'll have to have a talk with him after class and set things straight."

Now that the bone was set, Zira began using her aura to heal the wound for good.

[Lord Raziere]

Rokoran's Lesson
"Could've been more subtle about getting rid of him...this will have consequences, even if I do approve...."
She mostly to herself, she caught a look from Rip
"What? Mogrym's a philosophical opponent, Aurum's a political one. Two totally different wars. Can't fight them the same way. Also, Aurum is more of a threat."
Mogrym? a stern teacher but still a teacher, he has rules that he needs to follow and ultimately what he does is in theory for the benefit of everyone. Aurum on the other hand is an outside enemy who will use any advantage he gets to win. Including his wealth, technology, manipulative tendencies and so on. One is fine to be philosophical over, the other isn't.

Hm. But then again, the best defense was a great offense, and the best offense are your enemies fighting each other for you. She wondered if they can be turned against each other...
"But your right Rip, lets get back to the lesson at hand....Professor Rokoran, what is the lesson?"

[Hattish Thing]

"Ouch. Right for the body blow. Look, I wouldn't put too much weight on those kids. Look at what they've grown up with: We haven't had a Grimm offensive for a long time now, there's a relative peace between the cities, even the war with the Faunus is a only a fading memory, now. They had the chance to grow up in a time of peace. As far as they're concerned, Huntsmen are little more than romanticized policemen. Not soldiers. They didn't grow up listening to casualty reports, of battles won or lost, of the sacrifices Huntsmen were called daily to make. That's history to them, not reality. And what you told them, basically, was that they are expected to leave their friends to die. I know that's not what you meant to say, but that's what they heard. Is it a surprise they rebelled?"

"Besides, remember how we chose this year's freshmen. This 'accelerated curriculum' the headmaster is testing is going to be hard, so we looked for qualities that would help them endure it. Determination, confidence, faith, resilience, duty. In a word, stubbornness. We cherry picked the very best students to survive the curriculum and the very worst students to teach. So, really, don't be surprised when they give you more trouble than usual."

"Now: are you old? Well, yes. Sorry if that's not what you want to hear, but the simple fact is that you've done something that very few Huntsmen ever manage, and you didn't even cheat by retiring young the way I did. Every battle scar and every gray hair you have you came by honestly. If those students have half a brain, they'll soon realize that when an old soldier speaks, they darn well best pay attention. Most of them do, eventually."

Mogrym frowns and listens to Barlowe speak. His words were true, unfortunately, and it sort of made Mogrym miss the old times. When everything was so much simpler. There were leaders, and you followed their orders without question. There was an enemy. A clear enemy that had to be beaten back at any cost. Now there was no enemy. Just vague incidents. Hints of something dark and frightening. Hints of a dark horizon... He nods a bit before gently scratching at the leather handle of his Hammer/Staff. Yer right there, Barlowe. They jusht don't undershtand what the world wash like before we won. We won the war. We losht livesh, limbsh, even whole familiesh to the Grimm. I remember sitting at Bashe Camp every night in the large tent, lishtening closhely to the radio we'd shet up, hoping the namesh called at the end of the day weren't of anyone I knew. Knowing that we, The Hunter Corp, were the one final wall between The Grimm, and our loved onesh. Carrying the full burden that if we failed... It'd be more than jusht one dead man. One fallen warrior. It'd be a losht link in the chain that composhed the armor against The Grimm.

He sighs and sort of stares at his hammer a bit. They shimply don't reshpect me, or the pasht. They have absholutely no care regarding the eventsh that led to the peace they enjoy. They care nothing for the old waysh and the old philosophiesh that led The Hunter Corp to victory, and to beating back the enemy indefinetely. They don't reshpect it, they don't care about it, and they certainly don't want to lishten to shome old bat like me talking of the waysh of war. They shimply don't know it. You're right. It's a shame.

And you're right. I... I am old. And I didn't want thish. I wanted to die a sholdier. I lived a sholdier, became a Captain. Then a Commander. And I should have died a proud Commander of the Hunters. But the Grimm threat had ended, and I thought I could better sherve the people by directing my attention towardsh the criminal shcum that profited off the war and the aftermath. I reshigned. And that was the biggesht mishtake of my life. Now what... Barlowe? The Grimm took my family. My wife. Now I'm jusht a fosshil from a time no one wantsh to remember. Thish shociety hash turned into one of children glorifying Hunters and romanticizing war against The Grimm. Of adultsh willing to remain blisshfully ignorant of the brutal pasht. Of old sholdiersh watching as their waysh die out and ash their children and grandchildren continue to lower their guardsh.... He seems melancholy and certainly a bit upset. Why... if The Grimm were to attack in the numbersh they did before... We'd be all too eashy to defeat. And I don't want that for any generation. And sho I teach. Yet no one lishtensh...

Zira frowned as she moved to set the bone. "This will hurt a little," she said, proceeding to set the bone back in place before binding it with medical tape. "Professor Rokoran, though? It's not like him. I'll have to have a talk with him after class and set things straight."

Now that the bone was set, Zira began using her aura to heal the wound for good.

Aurum grimaces and groans under his breath, obviously in pain. The wound heals and Aurum is now functional, if sore. Yes. I was simply filling out the assessment forms I am required to, with the Headmasters complete written permission, not interrupting the lesson at all, when the pyschopath decided to verbally attack me and interrupt me from my work! He attacked me, hurled me out through the door and into the ground, breaking my arm and putting me through terrible pain and agony. And then he locked the doors and left me there! And I know why. It was because during the Caelynn Incident, I was the loudest voice accusing him! So the madman attacks me and strikes me down! And I frankly am not going to tolerate that. The man is prone to fits of rage and aggression, and is simply unsafe to put around students. I for one will press charges against him for his acts of mindless hate and humiliation! He frowns and moves to sorely stretch his arm. Thank you though. That hurt more than I'd care to admit.

[Lord Raziere]

Oswald's Classroom

Meanwhile Oswald had just finished his preparations for his class. They probably wouldn't be getting to his class for a while, but as a history teacher his work was surprisingly vital, for his job was to teach the many methods and strategies used to kill Grim throughout the ages, as well as the Grim themselves- they weren't a static foe.

He thought about Mogrym's lesson. Well, it was how he was taught when he was young. Didn't even have the luxuries they did of course. But he didn't really take a side on the issue. History cared not for philosophy. What it cared for was the practical issues of whether or not things worked.

He wandered over to Barlowe's place.
"Oh, HELLO. Rocky start to the first DAY eh? Well, we've ALL had those days I guess. I to remember the hordes. endless Grim, far as the eye can SEE, one coming after the other, with me always put on the front line because of my Semblance. I still remember it so clearly...ME, the battle-state coming down upon me, nothing but the GRIM before me, my double-warhammer, my Semblance, and my pure WILL to slaughter every single GRIM that came at me to keep me ALIVE. Sometimes I think its only because my Earth Semblance is able to cause so much DESTRUCTION that survived to get discharged from the Hunter Corps for it. Too much collateral damage they said. Even though they themselves sent me out to use it. Even though I was the only hunter that didn't need a ranged weapon. What BALDERDASH.

Nevertheless,one must keep a STIFF UPPER LIP about it no? Its all in service and in duty, one way or another."
He reflected a little. He hadn't truly used his Semblance in maybe years. doing so would probably cause destruction to school grounds and then he'd face loads of paperwork for it at the very least. Sigh. Maybe he should've gone on a Long Hunt instead. go out in the wild, take as many Grim as he could with him in ablaze of glory. But....duty called. and he answered by trying to pass down wisdom. Which made a thought occur to him.
"Mogrym, if you don't mind me asking, why didn't YOU simply go on a Long Hunt? Many older Hunters do it, and never come back after all they've seen..."

[Calemyr]

Mogrym frowns and listens to Barlowe speak. His words were true, unfortunately, and it sort of made Mogrym miss the old times. When everything was so much simpler. There were leaders, and you followed their orders without question. There was an enemy. A clear enemy that had to be beaten back at any cost. Now there was no enemy. Just vague incidents. Hints of something dark and frightening. Hints of a dark horizon... He nods a bit before gently scratching at the leather handle of his Hammer/Staff. Yer right there, Barlowe. They jusht don't undershtand what the world wash like before we won. We won the war. We losht livesh, limbsh, even whole familiesh to the Grimm. I remember sitting at Bashe Camp every night in the large tent, lishtening closhely to the radio we'd shet up, hoping the namesh called at the end of the day weren't of anyone I knew. Knowing that we, The Hunter Corp, were the one final wall between The Grimm, and our loved onesh. Carrying the full burden that if we failed... It'd be more than jusht one dead man. One fallen warrior. It'd be a losht link in the chain that composhed the armor against The Grimm.

He sighs and sort of stares at his hammer a bit. They shimply don't reshpect me, or the pasht. They have absholutely no care regarding the eventsh that led to the peace they enjoy. They care nothing for the old waysh and the old philosophiesh that led The Hunter Corp to victory, and to beating back the enemy indefinetely. They don't reshpect it, they don't care about it, and they certainly don't want to lishten to shome old bat like me talking of the waysh of war. They shimply don't know it. You're right. It's a shame.

And you're right. I... I am old. And I didn't want thish. I wanted to die a sholdier. I lived a sholdier, became a Captain. Then a Commander. And I should have died a proud Commander of the Hunters. But the Grimm threat had ended, and I thought I could better sherve the people by directing my attention towardsh the criminal shcum that profited off the war and the aftermath. I reshigned. And that was the biggesht mishtake of my life. Now what... Barlowe? The Grimm took my family. My wife. Now I'm jusht a fosshil from a time no one wantsh to remember. Thish shociety hash turned into one of children glorifying Hunters and romanticizing war against The Grimm. Of adultsh willing to remain blisshfully ignorant of the brutal pasht. Of old sholdiersh watching as their waysh die out and ash their children and grandchildren continue to lower their guardsh.... He seems melancholy and certainly a bit upset. Why... if The Grimm were to attack in the numbersh they did before... We'd be all too eashy to defeat. And I don't want that for any generation. And sho I teach. Yet no one lishtensh...

"Oh, they listen. Be sure of that. They wouldn't argue if they weren't paying attention. Some will think about what you say now, whether they come to the same conclusion or not. And when they leave, when they find themselves in the very situations you warned them about, they'll remember. That's the hard part of being a teacher, I think. We never see the fruits of our labor, what we actually accomplish. Keep the faith, Moloch. We are making a difference, even if it sometimes doesn't feel like it."

"Now, I have s-"

Oswald's Classroom

Meanwhile Oswald had just finished his preparations for his class. They probably wouldn't be getting to his class for a while, but as a history teacher his work was surprisingly vital, for his job was to teach the many methods and strategies used to kill Grim throughout the ages, as well as the Grim themselves- they weren't a static foe.

He thought about Mogrym's lesson. Well, it was how he was taught when he was young. Didn't even have the luxuries they did of course. But he didn't really take a side on the issue. History cared not for philosophy. What it cared for was the practical issues of whether or not things worked.

He wandered over to Barlowe's place.
"Oh, HELLO. Rocky start to the first DAY eh? Well, we've ALL had those days I guess. I to remember the hordes. endless Grim, far as the eye can SEE, one coming after the other, with me always put on the front line because of my Semblance. I still remember it so clearly...ME, the battle-state coming down upon me, nothing but the GRIM before me, my double-warhammer, my Semblance, and my pure WILL to slaughter every single GRIM that came at me to keep me ALIVE. Sometimes I think its only because my Earth Semblance is able to cause so much DESTRUCTION that survived to get discharged from the Hunter Corps for it. Too much collateral damage they said. Even though they themselves sent me out to use it. Even though I was the only hunter that didn't need a ranged weapon. What BALDERDASH.

Nevertheless,one must keep a STIFF UPPER LIP about it no? Its all in service and in duty, one way or another."
He reflected a little. He hadn't truly used his Semblance in maybe years. doing so would probably cause destruction to school grounds and then he'd face loads of paperwork for it at the very least. Sigh. Maybe he should've gone on a Long Hunt instead. go out in the wild, take as many Grim as he could with him in ablaze of glory. But....duty called. and he answered by trying to pass down wisdom. Which made a thought occur to him.
"Mogrym, if you don't mind me asking, why didn't YOU simply go on a Long Hunt? Many older Hunters do it, and never come back after all they've seen..."

Oswald's typically boisterous entrance was ill timed, as far as Barlowe was concerned, but in the end his line of thought led to a perfect chance to ask the question he'd wanted to ask. "It's because of the headmaster, is it not?I've often wondered, but I have never asked. Forgive me, but what's your relation to Alabaster Mogrym? Or is it just a coincidence that you have the same last name?"

[Lord Raziere]

"You mean the name BLASTENHEIM!? Sir, the BLASTENHEIM name has been handed down my family for generations. I'm pretty sure they would keep RECORDS about such things, and they have no RECORD of any "Mogrym". The name is OSWALD VON BLASTENHEIM, not Oswald Von Mogrym."

[Calemyr]

"You mean the name BLASTENHEIM!? Sir, the BLASTENHEIM name has been handed down my family for generations. I'm pretty sure they would keep RECORDS about such things, and they have no RECORD of any "Mogrym". The name is OSWALD VON BLASTENHEIM, not Oswald Von Mogrym."

Barlowe sighs. "Are you aware the Corps have taken to calling Dust grenades 'Oswalds'? I always wondered why, but I'm beginning to see it. I was talking about Moloch, here, naturally. I was hoping perhaps he had more insight into the headmaster than I. Well?"

[ImpSyndrome]

((Sorry to interrupt, but during the initiation ceremony, I saw the whole "same-last-name" thing and changed the headmaster's surname to "Meridian" to differentiate. Was I in the wrong for doing that? Were they meant to be related?))

[Calemyr]

((Sorry to interrupt, but during the initiation ceremony, I saw the whole "same-last-name" thing and changed the headmaster's surname to "Meridian" to differentiate. Was I in the wrong for doing that? Were they meant to be related?))

((Well... crap. I was rereading the early stuff for my little recap and thought I'd found a possible plot hook. Didn't realize you changed the name intentionally. My bad.))

[GrandDM]

[Rokoran's Lesson]

"There may well be repercussions. I don't care. I have seen far worse than this and I'm still standing here today. Now, since we no longer have Machiavelli Junior with us, I can get on with my lesson, which, for those of you who didn't read your timetables, is about Aura and Dust. So, who can tell me what Aura is?

[ImpSyndrome]

[Rokoran's Lesson]

"There may well be repercussions. I don't care. I have seen far worse than this and I'm still standing here today. Now, since we no longer have Machiavelli Junior with us, I can get on with my lesson, which, for those of you who didn't read your timetables, is about Aura and Dust. So, who can tell me what Aura is?

Glad to be done with that incident for the time, Rip raises his hand to answer. Should he be called upon, he'll respond, "Aura is a form of protective energy produced by the soul; in humanoids, it acts as an innate safeguard, shielding the body from harm. Some Auras produce additional effects as well, although it remains unclear how or why these effects differ between individuals."

[GrandDM]

Glad to be done with that incident for the time, Rip raises his hand to answer. Should he be called upon, he'll respond, "Aura is a form of protective energy produced by the soul; in humanoids, it acts as an innate safeguard, shielding the body from harm. Some Auras produce additional effects as well, although it remains unclear how or why these effects differ between individuals."

"A textbook answer. Which is why I don't use the textbooks, because they're complete garbage. Let me explain.

To use your Aura effectively, you must first understand it. To understand it, you must know what it is. Saying "Aura is made by the soul" is the same as saying "it's magic" - in other words, it explains nothing. However, it is broadly correct, just not specific or accurate.

To understand what your Aura is, then, you must understand what the soul is. Common theory has it that the soul is everything about us that isn't the body - our "self", our mind. So the soul is equivalent to the mind.

Take it further. What is the mind? It is the sum of past experience and present circumstance taken together to produce future extrapolation. An example: you see a dog and go to pet it, but it bites you. The next day, you see the same dog. Past experience tells you that the dog will bite. Present circumstance is that you're near the dog. Future extrapolation tells you that the dog will bite you again. However, future extrapolation is a bit of a mouthful. In a shorter term, it is imagination - imagining what will happen in the future.

So why does our Aura protect us from harm? Because we imagine that harm will come to us, and we don't want that to happen. None of you have real control over your Aura, so it just focuses on the basic, and the deepest, most primal desire is self-preservation. The imagination of ways to keep yourself from harm. In short, the Aura is the manifestation of your imagination on reality."

He tips back his head, raises his arms and breathes a long tongue of fire up into the air.

"Think not of how the flame came to be, or how it passed my lips and yet left them untouched. If you can see the flame in its moment, bright and hot and dancing, then you can make it so. Imagination is power. If you can imagine, then you can change the world."

[Landis963]

"A textbook answer. Which is why I don't use the textbooks, because they're complete garbage. Let me explain.

To use your Aura effectively, you must first understand it. To understand it, you must know what it is. Saying "Aura is made by the soul" is the same as saying "it's magic" - in other words, it explains nothing. However, it is broadly correct, just not specific or accurate.

To understand what your Aura is, then, you must understand what the soul is. Common theory has it that the soul is everything about us that isn't the body - our "self", our mind. So the soul is equivalent to the mind.

Take it further. What is the mind? It is the sum of past experience and present circumstance taken together to produce future extrapolation. An example: you see a dog and go to pet it, but it bites you. The next day, you see the same dog. Past experience tells you that the dog will bite. Present circumstance is that you're near the dog. Future extrapolation tells you that the dog will bite you again. However, future extrapolation is a bit of a mouthful. In a shorter term, it is imagination - imagining what will happen in the future.

So why does our Aura protect us from harm? Because we imagine that harm will come to us, and we don't want that to happen. None of you have real control over your Aura, so it just focuses on the basic, and the deepest, most primal desire is self-preservation. The imagination of ways to keep yourself from harm. In short, the Aura is the manifestation of your imagination on reality."

He tips back his head, raises his arms and breathes a long tongue of fire up into the air.

"Think not of how the flame came to be, or how it passed my lips and yet left them untouched. If you can see the flame in its moment, bright and hot and dancing, then you can make it so. Imagination is power. If you can imagine, then you can change the world."

Hameth copies the relevant info down, but is brought up short by Rokoran's final statement. He jots down a single question - "How then did I 'imagine' things I could not have known about?" Hameth then raises his hand in a questioning manner. If called on, he will ask the following question: Isn't there more to it than that, though? Every single one of us can imagine breathing fire, or inducing rocks to crumble, or casting out freezing water from our empty hands, but as yet we are unable to do so. Is there some technique, some trick, that allows us to unlock the power that you have already done?

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Please note the "If called on." We don't need a repeat of Mogrym's lesson.

[Calemyr]

Kaden looks down at her hand and tries to will a fireball into her hand. To imagine it, to envision it, to enforce it. She fails utterly to do so, again and again.

Don't be dim, girl. Start with what you know. Fire is the plaything of other people - yours is the storm.

Instead of envisioning a flame, she painted in her minds eye a picture of an electrical current building just under the skin of her palm, growing in intensity as it raced around the circle drawn in the ink of the mind. She envisioned tendrils of it shooting up her fingers, the tingle of it in her muscle, the-

A small spark arced between her middle finger and her thumb. The smallest of little things, but the surge she got from it dwarfed the spark itself. It was a start, a foothold on the climb to something new. Something spectacular. If she could only figure out how to do it again...

"Okay. That's cool."

Hameth copies the relevant info down, but is brought up short by Rokoran's final statement. He jots down a single question - "How then did I 'imagine' things I could not have known about?" Hameth then raises his hand in a questioning manner. If called on, he will ask the following question: Isn't there more to it than that, though? Every single one of us can imagine breathing fire, or inducing rocks to crumble, or casting out freezing water from our empty hands, but as yet we are unable to do so. Is there some technique, some trick, that allows us to unlock the power that you have already done?

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Please note the "If called on." We don't need a repeat of Mogrym's lesson.

If the question is asked and Rokoran's answer is not immediate, Kaden will give an answer of her own without looking up from her hand. Her voice is quiet, distant, but clear.

"He's simplifying it. Imagination is the trigger. There's more to it, there always is, but it starts with imagination. Because imagination is the part of the soul we can control."