[Main Chapter] Keep a Candle Burning

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Anaxas' oldest and most prestigious University of Sorcery, the de facto cultural capital of the kingdom and a city in its own right.
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Muse
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Fri Feb 01, 2019 4:29 pm

25th of Ophus, 2718
Brunnhold Cafeteria | The Lunch Hour
The bespectacled galdor blinked at Neth, clearing his throat and unable to will away the flush of color that rose to his faintly freckled cheeks, "Is Lars Savatier part of your family, Netheneale? Did you come here because you knew? I, uh, he is a participant in my research as well as a—" Harper's voice dropped in volume despite the awareness that between Orianna and Neth he was among like-minded individuals, "—a friend. Does he know you are here? I can, well, I can arrange a reunion, but only if it will be safe for him. The past few seasons have not been ... pleasant for some of the Passive Ward. While I'm working with Mrs. Rogers to correct that, I'm not willing to cause anyone more suffering."

That was a rather firm statement, Professor Moore having no interest in allowing any further damages—emotional or otherwise—happen to the passives under his care so long as he could control that.

"I have heard that the plague is proving itself difficult." Harper added quietly, glancing from the two who'd come to sit at his table to look back across the room at the clatter of trays and the shouts of a few loud young boys and the mess they'd made, watching Renard head in their direction as if assuming it would, of course, be his job to clean up whatever they left behind.

Pascual at the same time looked up at Terrence, the feeling he felt from the older passive one that set his heart racing and made his green eyes widen in immediate fear. His hands moved, a flurry of panicked motion as if he was attempting to make words of warning, only to have the dark-haired youth frown at him in confusion. The squabbling students lingered, but their conversation cut short, one of the three of them elbowing the others,

"What is that?"

"What's what?"

"Don't you feel it?"

"Oh—"

The mute redhead squeaked, attempting to shove his friend roughly to the floor and moving to literally leap over the serving table toward the students, arms wide, hoping to knock them over as well in an unexpected move of what would later be called total heroism.

In this moment, it looked like a vicious attack and one of the boys sidestepped, growling a string of curses as the mona shifted in the small space the group of them all occupied, flooding in as if someone had rammed a hole into a dam upriver in the Avora. Pascual managed to tackle two students and huddled them near the table covered in fresh, steaming food just in time for Terrence, who had staggered back and almost toppled, to yell in pure terror,

"Look out. Back away. I—"

A searing cold seemed to emanate from the dark-haired passive that amplified as the mona moved like an avalanche, everyone in the vicinity dissolving into chaos. The cold was far worse than the winter outside, than the snow gently falling—frigidly so!—and students, faculty, staff, and passives everywhere in the radius screamed, leapt, or crawled out of the way. Everyone out of the direct radius, which was roughly less than ten feet upon later investigation, could only watch in horror as a diablerie that only took five actual seconds unfolded in slow motion.

Anyone who didn't—which were quite a few—would find themselves blinded and overcome with a terrible chill, exposed to temperatures so cold that those closest to Terrence had their skin blacken with severe frostbite almost immediately, others burned by the cold only to varying degrees. The table for serving hot foods froze over instantaneously, but the two students underneath Pascual went mostly unharmed except for a few exposed fingers, the young passive having shielded them with his body and with the table. He was, however, unconscious on top of them, ears and the back of his neck as well as his exposed arms from rolled-up sleeves damaged by the intense cold.

The boy who had leapt out of the way of the tackle didn't even scream, crumpling in a heap—dead. Flesh frozen.

A passive who'd been walking out of the kitchens was caught at the edges of the diablerie, injured but not dead, and with her shouts of pain, half the kitchen nearly surged out into the cafeteria in panic, held back only be the sight of Terrence's body on the floor just as frozen and twisted as the galdor student on the other side of the serving station.

"May the gods have mercy—"

Professor Moore had begun standing somewhere in the middle of those precious moments, raising his hands as they moved in sign, Monite on his lips while everything else melted away in the wave of frigid air like everyone's breath would have outside. Far more intimately educated about monic theory than probably any one else in the cafeteria, though still barely on the cusp of grasping at what even caused a diablerie, half of Harper's intonations were indeed Quantitative conversation—a selfish analytical choice that would find him in the Headmistress' office a few days later, surely—but the other half was reminiscent of a counterspell, only far more experimental in nature.

Did it lessen the terrible effects that unfolded anyway? Did he save lives alongside Pascual? It was hard to tell. What would the cafeteria have looked like had Harper not been casting?

Only the gods knew.

The diablerie ended. There were raised voices in pain and panic. Professors and faculty standing and converging on injured students, stepping over Pascual toward Terrence's frozen body to gawk. In total, about a dozen students suffered various forms of frostbite, some of it possibly beyond repair. It was hard to tell. Burns from the cold were more widespread, and even some of the passives in the kitchens and behind the serving area suffered. Though they were not the first to receive attention,

"Excuse me."

Wiping sweat from his brow, shoulders sagging, Harper ignored the dizziness that threatened to knock him over from his on-the-spot casting. Not looking for or even expecting anyone else to follow him, the bespectacled galdor moved straight for Pascual, glancing to make sure Renard in his vicinity was safe.

Off Topic
SidekickBOT Today at 4:17 PM
Muse: d6 = (5) = 5


If his magic had done nothing else, the disfigured passive on the edges of the reach of Terrence's diablerie had received no further injuries, but he had felt the wave of cold wash over him, digging beneath the scarring and gnawing painfully at his very bones. He'd ache. He'd feel rubbed even more raw. But he'd live.

"Let me just—"

Off Topic
I'll leave this here now for you kids to react to and go from there. There are 12-ish students injured, 4-5 with severe frostbite that may require amputation instead of healing. The other students are more "burned" than really harmed. Everyone is obviously traumatized.

One student, 6th year, is dead.

One passive, Terrence, is also dead.

Pascual is unconscious and very frostbit. The main focus of the professors and faculty will be the students. Other medical staff will appear in my next post (other players are welcome to hop in here).

There is panic and commotion and crying and fear.

Harper will be focusing on Pascual and the other injured passive, aware that the students will be cared for. He is not a physician.

Enjoy. Find me on Discord if you have questions about how to proceed!

word count: 1348

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Orianna Aubellard
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Fri Feb 01, 2019 7:06 pm

Brunnhold Cafeteria25 Ophus 2718: Lunchtime
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Orianna arched an eyebrow and frowned at Professor Moore's mention of troubles in the passive ward. When Anna spoke next, her voice was low, so that only Moore and Rami-Savatier could hear her. "Hm… I can't say I'm surprised to hear that. We get a lot of the younger children for minor accidents and such. Some of them do talk, though most of them are too scared to gossip. But I hear things about some of the matrons and patrons, the ones who terrify the kids into submission. I'm not sure how many of them there are, but I swear, I think some of them would value a kenser's life more than a passive's. It's disgusting."

Anna had no doubt that the matrons and patrons were hiding major injuries. Statistically speaking, the number of major injuries they saw at the hospital was entirely too low. Add in the fact that she rarely saw any passive over the age of 14 and the situation was suspicious.

Anna sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Yes, the plague is proving exceptionally difficult. We were hoping it would just be a flash in the pan, but the damned thing keeps hanging around. It's worrisome, especially since it's so deadly. All we can do is treat the symptoms and hope for the best right now."

Anna felt the change in the attitude of the room and turned to look over her shoulder. Luckily, her trauma training meant that she was up and out of her seat before the diablerie was finished. "Everyone, calm down!" she yelled, trying to get her voice heard over the chaos in the room, her tone of voice purely authoritative. She knew that it would be unlikely that calm would suddenly overwhelm the room, but if she could get one or two to hear her and accept her authority, maybe the calm would spread throughout the room like melting snow.

Anna knew she may not be able to take complete control of the situation but, at the very least, she could start looking at the injured. "I'm a doctor! Let me through!" she said, pushing through the crowd. She initially headed for the students, but when she saw Pascual, she immediately knew he was going to die if she didn't do something. "You," she turned towards the nearest 2 passives outside of the area of effect, ordering them. "I want you to get me some thick towels or blankets." She turned to the next nearest passive. "Go find me some hot water bottles and make sure they're full." She ordered a fourth passive to go find someone who knew the way to the hospital and to have them get a gurney.

She crouched down next to Pascual, her teeth chattering slightly from the cold. She eased him off the two students and gave them a calm smile. "It's okay. It's over. If you can move, can you please move over there?" she said, her voice absolutely calm as she pointed to the edge of the area of effect. "I know you might be tempted to rub at your skin, but if you do, rub it slowly and gently, okay? You can put your gloves or scarves back on, but don't rub at your skin if you do."

Anna took off her lab coat, wrapping it around Pascual's core. She knew that it wouldn't help much, but she had to do something. She knew that she'd probably get in trouble for prioritizing a passive's life over the students, but she never discriminated when lives were at risk. Pascual would be lucky to survive even if she treated him immediately and, even if he was "just" a passive, he deserved to live just like any other person.

As she waited for the passives she had sent off to return, she stepped aside to let Moore take over. "Warm him up, but slowly. Do not put the hot water bottles directly on his skin. Focus on his core; he'll go into shock if you worry about his extremities. Once his pulse is more towards normal, we'll move him to the hospital. If he stops breathing, get me right away. I'll take care of them," she said, turning to take care of the badly frostbitten students.

Anna worked quickly. She knew that she didn't need to see the injuries to use a diagnostic spell or to heal the damage and stopping the damage in its tracks was more important right now. She asked the students immediately outside the area for their jackets and winter weather wear, then wrapped the injured students in as many layers as she could. Lastly, she sent another passive to go make more hot tea.
word count: 842
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Elisora Rivaen
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Sat Feb 02, 2019 9:33 am

25th of Ophus, 2718
“Please don’t make me go back, Miss Rivaen,” the sixth-year boy said for the fifth time as they walked through the faculty. “I have got nothing better to do.”

Elise turned to him and smiled at him, amused at his efforts to watch her work. Even during the term, the student had spent most of his time in the infirmary. It was rather endearing – even Elise hadn’t been that driven in learning the arts of medicine. “You can’t stay in the infirmary either, Mikael. This is your first day of returning to Brunnhold, you’ll need to report to your resident advisor and prepare for your classes. Not to mention, I think Nurse Nerin is a bit disappointed that you returned from your holidays so early.” The old lady had grunted in disapproval the moment the redheaded student burst through their doors early in the mornings.

The boy had started appearing in the infirmary months ago, claiming that he would like to learn how to treat people. And since then he had pestered them with questions and so many questions. He watched them apply bandages, stare at the shelf of drugs to take notes which treats what illness. He certainly wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to be a doctor.

“Well, I’m not bothering her, I’m bothering you,” he pointed out helpfully.

It made her laugh. “It’s the holiday season, Mikael. The infirmary had been empty for days. I promise you’re not missing anything,” Elise assured as they walked pass the doors the cafeteria. She wondered if she should make a stop to grab some bread at least. Her stomach growled at the thought. “Besides, I think it’s lunch time, shouldn’t you be getting some food?”

“Do you get bored then, Miss Rivaen? You work in Vienda, right? It must be so boring tending to a school infirmary instead. Why aren’t you going back?”

Elise shrugged, even when she felt the pang of longing towards her work in Vienda. To be honest, it had been boring. But it wasn’t as if she could just move her residency to Brunnhold, especially since she wasn’t even sure if she’s staying. She needed to talk to Daalton about it – when he actually had the time to sit down with her. The young woman had never planned to stay this long at the university, but their relationship had complicated things. And so, the infirmary was what she had to settle with for now. “It’s temporary and I do–”

Screams tore through the air behind them, followed by a loud bang of doors slamming into the wall. Elise whirled just in time to see students rushing pass in panic. They stumbled over one another, tripping over the clean floors and yelling at the tops of their lungs. Without thinking, the young woman headed towards the source of the chaos, Mikael trailing closely behind her.

The sight that greeted them was pure chaos. People fleeing, students groaning on the ground or leaning against the wall.

Her eyes quickly scanned the room, her mind trained to triage and prioritize. There was a boy crying out in pain, clearly a passive from his uniform. A steady woman clad in lab coat quickly approached him. Must be a doctor from the faculty. Then she noted the frozen foods and the frosts spreading from a particular point in the room. There lied a body, unmoving – No wait, two bodies. Some students were on the ground, writhing in pain. It was impossible not to notice that a few of them had their fingers black as the night.

Elise decided to kneel besides a girl with long hair, crying out and trying to crawl away with her hands, the one closest to her. She was fifteen at most, her face scrunched up in pain. She laid a hand on her arm and coaxed out a brief spell so her vessels would dilate somewhat, letting the warm blood flow through her body easier. Mikael stood frozen beside her, watching everything unfold in shock.

“Look at me and take a deep breath. Tell me your name.” Elise’s voice was firm, but gentle, demanding attention from the young girl. As she waited for her answer, a simple string of monite flowed through her lips and answering her call, the mona slowly washed away the pain. She took note of the swelling and blisters of her fingers.

Tears streamed down her face, but she managed a shuddering breath. “Lyla.”

“Alright, Lyla. Tell me what happened.” The girl began sobbing again, but the young healer shook her head and squeezed the girl’s shoulder reassuring. “Lyla, I want to help you. I can help you, but you need to tell what feels wrong.”

After a hiccup, the blonde-haired blinked away her tears. “I- I tried to leap away, but it was too late. My legs… They were so, so cold. Now I can’t feel my left feet and the right hurts so bad.” Her voice broke at the end. “It hurts. Please please, make it stop.”

Elise moved closer to the girl’s feet. “I’ll look at your legs, alright, Lyla? But I want you to close your eyes. Promise me you’ll close your eyes until I say you can open them. Even if it hurts.” Fortunately, the student nodded and shut her eyes tightly, her entire body tensing. The healer looked up at the young doctor-to-be. “You should go Mikael, get Nurse–”

“No, I want to help,” he immediately replied, stubbornly kneeling beside her.

No sense in wasting time for an argument. “Help me get off them off,” Elise ordered as she gestured to the girl.

Together, the slowly took off the girl’s shoes and peeled away her knee-high socks. Lyla scream and cried out, but she kept her eyes closed. What they saw underneath made Mikael go deadly pale, but she was impressed that he didn’t even retch. It was certainly not a pretty sight, even for her. Lyla’s right leg was swollen and angry red, decorated by blisters, some intact and some already bursted. That was the good news. Her left… Black necrotic tissue had settled on her toes, inching its way up to her foot. It might be simply eschar, but it was a long shot – something told her that she would not find any living tissue underneath.

Elise shrugged of her thick coat and placed them over the girl’s legs. “Mikael, I need you to help me with something. I need you to get as many Static and Living mage here as fast as you can. The best of your friends, teachers, anyone, alright? Tell them to run here.”

She pricked up as she heard the woman in the lab coat ordering for some warm water. Elise quickly chimed in and would catch the eye of the other woman should she looked over here. “As much as you can. Get them in buckets bottles, bowls, whatever. Fast. Anyone who’s well-versed in Static magic, to me!”

They would need a lot of warmth and a lot of water, what better way than gathering those who master elemental magic?
word count: 1236
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Netheneale Rami-Savatier
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Sat Feb 02, 2019 7:26 pm

25th of Ophus, 2718
Brunnhold Cafeteria | Lunch Hour
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Neth's attention was taken away from the window as Moore started to speak once more. The galdor hadn't known his nephew was a participant in Moore's research. I wonder how Lionel would feel about this, his son a test subject, and me visiting him after all these years of promising not to. The professor lowered his voice, and Neth leaned in to hear him, the galdor's curiosity at its peak.

"It's reassuring to know he has a friend of some influence. We spoke around when I first arrived, but I believe neither of us knew what to say," Netheneale sighed as he recalled their meeting. Laurentius had been much more... damaged, than he had expected, "unpleasant? I'm on my nephew's side, of that you can be assured. Not all of his family has forgotten him," the galdor hid his anger and concern for his nephew, he didn't need Moore thinking he was a loose cannon.

Neth glanced over the cafeteria, thinking of what could have happened to his nephew in all the sixteen years he had been there. I'll get you out of here Laurentius, even if a few people need to be set straight on the way out. The passive cleaning the floor had suddenly stopped--Weird, he hasn't stopped in all the time I have watc--

A passive charged out from the line at a few students, and had tackled them. At hearing the passive shout a warning, the galdor knew something was off. Students and passives alike started to violently shake and then freeze. The ones towards the center of diablerie were probably a lost cause, and Neth instead tried to save those that had a better chance of survival. Jumping up and weaving past Orianna and Moore, and uttered some words of monite, casting a pull spell on the passive janitor to hopefully mitigate the damage to his already scarred body.

Netheneale immediately looked in the other direction of the cafeteria in an attempt to make sure nobody he knew was caught in the radius. Orianna had already started tending to some of the injured, and Neth attempted to relieve some of the pain from one of the more severely wounded as he spoke in monite once more, and went to cast an anesthetic spell. It wasn't long ago that the galdor had cast one on himself, and he felt confident that he could do it now-- at least to alleviate some pain from the poor student.

Neth could hear Orianna and another galdor calling out orders and something about static magic, but blocked it out of his head. Moore had started slowly walking towards the passive that had saved some of the students. He has that one handled, I just need to keep this one alive until the professionals get here.

Unsure if the student would live or at the least keep most of his limbs he calmly called out, adding to the chaos and panic wasn't wise, but he'd be a fool to not ask for assistance--this was more than he could handle, "I need some help over here!"


Last edited by Netheneale Rami-Savatier on Sun Feb 03, 2019 10:47 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 551
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Lars
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Sun Feb 03, 2019 5:59 pm

Ophus 25, 2718
Cafeteria ✿ Lunch Hour
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He hated this godsdamned university and every soul within it. It could burn to the ground and stand as nothing but a pile of ashes underneath his feet; he'd be better off with his lungs full of smoke than he was healthy and alive in here. Each passing day saw his discontent growing more and more; he'd never had trouble dealing with the tragic and restrained reality of his life before he'd experienced the freedom of being treated equal. He figured he would've been better off never having been happy at all, even if it had been a fleeting, small sense of the feeling.

Well, he didn't hate every soul. There were those few individuals whom he'd rather stay alive and far away from the fate he wished upon the rest of Brunnhold, but they were few and far between; nothing to concern himself with when he'd never be anything more than their servant.

Lars held a bitterness within his heart that he'd never let rise to the surface before. He carried it with him every morning, every lunch hour, every evening, every night. Little solace came to he that grieved for things he'd never have.

The passive was a silent force walking through the halls, brushing past those that lingered and spoke with each other now that they had ended their shifts and had the spare time, and Lars hated every one of them. He hated them for speaking so easily and carelessly with one another, hated their spirits and their laughter, hated their will to go on and on and on as if their lives meant anything more than trash to their superiors--not only their superiors, but to their peers as well.

You had that same will once, you know.

"Shut your head," muttered the servant, "and get out of mine."

He hated the stares he so often found lingering on his skin.

In an effort to make it to the kitchens on time, he quickened his pace, slipping through the university otherwise unnoticed. At least kitchen duties provided some measure of relief; he enjoyed the work despite those it served. The blonde didn't venture out into the cafeteria anymore after the incident with Professor Siordanti back in Dentis, not wanting his clumsiness to provide any more justification for further punishment, but he didn't mind. The actual serving of the meals had never been his specialty in the first place, rather his talents remained in the kitchen, in the actual creation of said meals.

Any passions he might've devoted to other things in life--hobbies, careers, people--were pushed solely into food. Food was kind, food was silent, food didn't stare or make rude comments about his speech.

He went the back way into the kitchens, pushing through the door with an expression bordering a glare. A strange sensation met him in the doorway; the feeling of something wrong, but so right.

The sight of his fellow servants causing a commotion led him to stay at the door, watching as Pascual pushed out from the line and attempted to save a few students from the unfolding, icy destruction. Lars was a silent observer in the background; his skin wasn't left untouched by the edge of Terrence's cold diablerie, but a chill was nothing compared to his fellow passive's fate.

Unblemished skin now stood still, darkened and frozen beyond repair. The overwhelming noise of screams and shouts for help went unnoticed by the Hessean, who finally moved from the doorway now that they were in the aftermath of Terrence's catastrophe and moved forwards quickly to get out of the kitchen.

He wanted no part in that; he wasn't a doctor or a man with living conversation that could even attempt to help those in the center. Instead he slipped quickly into the cafeteria; moving out from behind the line and only sparing a glance for Terrence and the others as he did, and Lars allowed himself a visual reaction in the form of a panicked expression and a shortness of breath.

Shaking (whether it was from the cold or from the sight of it all, he wasn't sure), Lars glanced with wide blue eyes about the cafeteria, finding a few familiar faces and realizing with some sense of dread that they could've been affected. To one side there was a man he hardly knew, one he'd met once before, one who had confused him to no end with the news that he was a relative. He seemed alright; rushing to the aid of a student and speaking in that language that made no sense to Lars at all, so he turned to look towards another.

"Oh," the servant gasped, eyes falling upon one Professor Moore, who had also rushed to the aid of those affected. Not a doctor, the professor always said, yet he was certainly always quick to assist. Despite the Hessean's knee-jerk desire to approach and offer his assistance, he kept his distance, catching the demands of two women and forcing himself to comply instead.

Heading straight back into the kitchen, Lars was careful not to knock anyone over that rushed from within, and started grabbing for all the kitchen towels he could carry. They weren't the thicker, soft bath towels that the students might've preferred, but they were extra layers against the cold. He loaded his arms up with the towels, quickly bringing them back out and setting them on the floor for anyone to grab before retreating into the kitchens again.

This time he went for water; filling pots with hot water from the basin and then bringing them out to the cafeteria as well.

Being helpful wasn't so hard, if he didn't have to think about it.

You want to be helpful, don't make it out to be such a bad thing.

No, you want to be helpful. I just want to watch.

Lars let himself approach those standing around Pascual and the students now, grabbing a handful of the towels he'd brought and glancing to the professor, "what can he do? Does he need to grab anything else, can he help warm them?"
word count: 1071
I've been unruly
Renard Verene
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Tue Feb 05, 2019 7:55 pm

brunnhold cafeteria ❋
25 of ophus, 2718; during the lunch hour
He saw Pascual tackle the two students; he thought, Of course, and tried to will himself to motion, but he was stuck to his spot as if he had sprouted roots. He felt the mona surge and knew he had to act with a speed he did not possess. When it happened, he merely dropped his mop and bucket with a clatter and a clang. He could do nothing else.

It was beyond disorder. It was short, Renard knew, only a handful of seconds at most; his had been, too, when he was young. It did not take a long diablerie to do damage. Yet he felt as if it might have lasted for hours, for longer than hours; he felt the anticipation of years between the seconds, crawling by at the speed of nightmares, and he knew in his heart that it would never end. For the first few blinding moments he didn’t know that it wasn’t him, that he wasn’t sixteen again, writhing in his father’s kitchen, a conflagration given form. You’ve done it again, he kept thinking, you’ve done it now – they could give you a thousand chances at an honest life and you would never, ever be worthy of love, you would never be safe to love –

It wasn’t fire. It was ice.

Some force plucked at him out of the air and pulled him backwards; it set him off balance, and he toppled onto his rear with a painful thump. By that time, the diablerie’s effects were over. Finally he found he could move, hands trembling violently, but when he looked around, he could not parse his environment. It made no sense to him. He saw moving bodies, the bodies of students and professors and other passives, bodies that swarmed into the epicenter of the disaster. Bodies writhing on the ground, bodies lying still. Parts of people. Blackened flesh, tattered clothes. Passive uniforms, but also the clothes of students.

He picked himself up as quickly as he could, though his stomach was turning over and his eyes had begun to brim. He started to get up on his haunches, but the room flipped; he had to shut his eyes and grit his teeth and steady himself. When he opened them, he tried to make further sense of what he saw. The first thing he noticed was Pascual, and he braced himself against another wave of nausea. He remembered the younger servant’s bold, silly smile, his camaraderie, the same camaraderie, he thought, that had driven him to do –

He drew in shuddering breaths, spat them back out through his teeth in the form of prayers. “Benea light our paths,” he started, but the words had gotten all jumbled: “Alioe protect… the waters… teach us to know our… I pray that… understand my place…” He was scrambling to his feet, now aware of the pain that lanced through him; he felt as if someone had flayed him. His scars stung and burned and his bones ached worse than they ever had before.

I need some help over here!

Renard’s head jerked up, away from Pascual and Moore and the terse Mugrobi professor and the others, toward the strange man he had seen sitting at the table with Moore. Without thinking, he began to totter over on shaky legs, still dribbling prayers – insensible – through trembling lips. But he stopped short once he reached the professor’s side, staring at the frostbitten student. Staring at the patches of frozen flesh starting to necrotize, the fingers he would lose, just like the smallest finger on his own –

“What can I do?” he gasped at the Hessean professor, completely forgetting formality.
word count: 660
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Muse
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Wed Feb 13, 2019 8:44 pm

25th of Ophus, 2718
Brunnhold Cafeteria | The Lunch Hour
"Someone get word to the hospital staff. We have a few doctor's here, yes, but everyone injured will need transportation." Harper Moore spoke above the panic of the crowd, his voice far from commanding or authoritative so much as calm and loud. He made use of his lanky limbs and weighty field to part a pair of students milling about for Orianna as she made her way toward the injured passive who had been his goal, aware that there were far more qualified individuals to address the situation than himself. He was a theorist, not a physician, had he not mentioned that more than enough times over the past few seasons?

As he shrugged off his coat to hand it to whoever wanted it to aid in staving off hypothermia and wrapping those affected by the diablerie, Harper was quietly casting. Quantitative Conversation left his lips, field softening at the frayed edges as he seemed to reach out with it, literally extending his magical senses out into the area as he gingerly stepped past helping galdori and suffering bodies toward the epicenter, toward Terrence's frost-blackened corpse. Perhaps others would see his actions as selfish or insane, perhaps no one noticed at all, or perhaps everyone already knew the Professor for who he was—curious, studious, and strange. It was quite obvious that he was carefully analyzing things on a theoretical level, desperately chasing the last evidences of the passive's diablerie in the unseen particles that still filled the area. Elusive and already eroded by the other fields that crowded the small area, whatever Harper managed to glean of the situation was either not anything satisfactory or something disturbing, for a frown creased his features.

Remembering himself in the middle of the mess, he made his way back toward Pascual and the chaos that was slowly congealing into some form of organized relief effort, thankfully without his assistance. Addressed by Orianna, the bespectacled galdor blinked and nodded,

"Oh—uh—yes." Folding himself to sit on the ground, Professor Moore carefully situated the boy and allowed those who were far more medically educated than himself move about the room.

The injured were eventually grouped by severity with surprising precision and unexpected grace by the same library secretary who had certainly revealed her particular opinions while in line. Very comfortable categorizing and delegating, the woman moved through the cafeteria and herded students who weren't injured to make themselves useful, barking orders for them to go with the passives and fetch warm water, towels, coats, and blankets.

Professor Jyo'zet understood Orianna's suggestions immediately, and the Hoxian took her idea to quickly run with it, breezing her diminutive self into the kitchen and taking charge of pots and pans and buckets of water, dragging a few students with her to begin casting in chorus to create warm things to help combat frostbite and hypothermia. More assistance filtered in slowly from everywhere nearby on campus, word traveling sluggishly in the near-empty Campus in this last week of Winter Holiday. The Headmistress as well as the hospital would both be alerted soon, surely, but for now the cafeteria was a bizarre sort of war zone where everyone stopped caring who was who—for the most part. Surely, there'd be repercussions, but in this moment, the focus was on saving life, regardless of who or what they were.

"Lars! You haven't been here the whole time, have you?" The younger passive's newly-discovered relative just steps away was simply forgotten like something on the tip of his tongue as Harper attempted to focus on being of any use instead of letting his thoughts ramble through equations and calculations, resisting the urge to write down everything he'd analyzed through his very subtle spellwork.

Later.

So long as he could remember. Everything could be dealt with later.

"There are a couple of students and another passive who could use those towels there." Harper nodded his head to the three young bodies next to where he sat holding a warmed water bottle snatched from the janitor's closet over the brave young ginger boy's chest, somewhat reluctant to just get up and leave the unconscious passive he'd admittedly become invested in through the course of his research—just as he'd become rather invested in the lives of all the gated population he'd had contact with, the blond in front of him included, "But finding the chap with the other hot compresses would be rather useful. Ah, well, wait—"

He paused, considering the chaos of the situation and considering the other man he at least he thought by now he knew. He moved to stand, pointing, "—sit with Pascual for me. Keep an eye on his breathing. I'll wrap these three students and stay right nearby."

Students and passives alike were bundled, though the two dead bodies were set aside, covered with tablecloths from nearby. The galdori in the room were quite aware that death was not yet final, depending on their injuries, though Professor Moore was quite aware that Terrence wouldn't even be considered worth a second chance even if his injuries were at all salvageable. He couldn't win every fight, but he'd seen more death and injury in the past few months than he had in years.

It was disconcerting, troubling him deeper than witnessing yet another diablerie despite his desperation to find a cause.

Was he after a cure?

Was passivity something to be fixed or only better understood?

The bespectacled galdor glanced across the room as students and faculty and staff worked side by side with the gated passives to warm chilled bodies, to carefully care for frostbitten extremities, and to comfort those who were frightened as if it was the most natural partnership in the world. For just a handful of minutes, no one was concerned about status or genetics. Well, almost everyone.

"Gods, don't help me." Whined one of the young students who'd been just a little closer than most, shooing away a young passive who'd been cleaning nearby in the hall. The girl barely younger than herself was holding a blanket out to her as if it was a stinky dead fish, clearly just as terrified as she was. Her cheeks were burned by cold—deep red, and her littlest finger on the hand she'd raised in self-defense was black while the rest was pale and blistered white by cold. She'd growled at one of the passives on kitchen duty, "I don't want any more of you crimps to go off. Get away."

Unfortunately for her, she was sorted into a small group of not other galdori, but three older passives who'd suffered similar injuries, hands and arms blistered.

"Take the blanket." Grunted one of the three, nodding at the galdor, "She's just trying to help you."

"Shut your head. She's just as dangerous as the dead one—oh, you're all just as dangerous!" The young student snatched the blanket and sobbed, lamely attempting to wrap herself in it and hide, muttering more insults in the direction of the passives.

The gated girl sniffled, too, wiping her nose on the back of her hand once it was free, retreating not to leave the room, but to fetch more blankets as a few more teachers entered the cafeteria with blankets taken straight from the fresh folded laundry.

"Headmistress Ophelia is on her way. A triage team from the hospital and the Living Conversation Chairs will be here shortly." One of the professors said, handing out blankets.

"We've been told to stay here until everyone is stable." Said another, biting his lip as he saw the mix of students and passives organized not by what they were but by the severity of their injuries. Sure, it would have made sense, but to him it didn't. Frowning, he leaned toward another faculty member and asked quietly, "Why aren't the gated passives being treated far away from everyone else?"

"Because they're just as hurt and it's easier to assess needs than worry." Snapped Professor Moore as he stood from wrapping another student, rolling his hazel eyes behind his spectacles, "Don't worry, they'll all be squirreled back away in their holes later, Junior Professor."

"Uh. Sorry. Yes. Of course." Blinked the young man, hardly a graduate himself, quickly looking away and moving to find somewhere else to offer assistance.

"As if only galdori were hurt." Muttered Harper under his breath, disapproving of what he could only see as ignorance.
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Lars
Posts: 143
Joined: Sun Nov 25, 2018 1:04 pm
Topics: 25
Location: brunnhold
Race: Passive
: hates you/r laundry
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Mon Feb 18, 2019 11:38 pm

ophus 25, 2718
cafeteria ✿ lunch hour
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All the chaos and commotion had been only slightly dampened by the authoritative voices reaching above the crowd, those of Professor Moore and presumably doctors he didn't know or at least didn't remember all that well, but Lars, for once, didn't mind the noise. It was a different kind of noise than that of roommates chattering and chuckling and whispering in the dark, instead it was fearful for what had happened and what might still come. Did they really think that one passive's diablerie set off all the others?

Incompetent, they were incompetent and ignorant and they deserved it all, they deserved it all and more and he was going t -

He's said our name now, listen. He cares about us, didn't you hear?

The passive's empty gaze flicked back to the professor, who sat curiously on the floor next to the unconscious Pascual, and Lars nodded quickly in response. He had been there the whole time, of course, just not out there for everyone to see. No one ever saw him, not weird, invisible Lars; didn't they know he could disappear right here and now and none of them could tell the difference?

Glancing briefly to the three students in question, Lars was about to agree to the professor's request, but was honestly relieved when the galdor changed his mind. He was willing to help and do whatever he was told, but it would be a lie if he claimed the desire to help everyone. Some of his fellow passives held worth in his mind, Pascual included, but not everyone in the hectic cafeteria held that same place in the blonde's heart.

"Of course," offered Lars in response, extending the towels in his hands towards the professor as the man stood, "let him know if you need anything else, Professor."

With that the servant took the galdor's place beside Pascual, sitting down on the cold floor; colder fingers moving to grab the warmed water bottle the professor had been holding. He moved it back to the other passive's chest, eyes flicking finally away from the retreating Professor Moore and looking to his unconscious new companion.

This could've been us. We watched it happen when we could've helped just like he did.

Expression bordering a displeased frown, Lars looked over Pascual, wondering what could have possessed him to make him push out from the line and protect those students. How could he have been so compassionate - was it genuine or simply adrenaline? He had never known Pascual to be unkind or uncaring, even towards their often trying superiors. No, all he knew of him was softness, and Lars wondered if he ever could have been as soft as Pascual; as selfless as the one that had taken the blunt of the damage just to keep a few others from facing it.

It was easy enough to ignore the rude comments from frightened students, and more so to disregard the ones he did hear. Focusing on Pascual was preferable to listening to any of them in the state of mind he was in at current - all the commotion was making him feel sick, delirious, and so... strange. Perhaps it was just the effects of Terrence's display taking their hold on his mind and leaving the fluttering of butterfly wings in his stomach, or perhaps it was something he cared not to dwell on.

Lars watched the rise and fall of Pascual's chest and let the repetition distract him, one hand gently holding onto the other man's in an effort to warm and calm whatever of him might be awake, while the other held the warm bottle of water to his chest.
word count: 648
I've been unruly
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Orianna Aubellard
Posts: 23
Joined: Thu Nov 08, 2018 12:21 pm
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Writer: jadeowl/Rachel
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Fri Mar 01, 2019 1:40 pm

Brunnhold University Cafeteria25 Ophus, 2718: Lunchtime
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Anna gave a thin smile as one of the new arrivals called for static mages to come to her. Smart thinking. She felt the swirl of the mona as her fellow galdori worked to help the patients, though she ignored the muttered monite. She couldn't afford to be distracted. She did frown as she felt someone using Qualitative Conversation, but now wasn't the time to find out who was using it and why.

Anna was grateful when a passive came out and put a stack of towels on the floor. "Thank you," she said, loud enough to ensure that there was a chance of him hearing it above the noise of the room. She picked up some towels and started moving from patient to patient, wrapping frostbitten limbs. This time, though, her movements through the crowd were much slower as she took the time with each patient to take a closer look. She applied anesthetic spells and spent time trying to calm the patients down. Those that didn't start coming out of their hysterics got a gentle nudge from the mona as Anna used her magic to calm their overexcited emotions. "It will be all right," she said to each patient, her voice full of authority. The mona enhanced her voice, ensuring that it was made clear that she believed, with all her heart, that it would be all right.

But there was another purpose to Anna's examinations. She was already planning ahead, making quick surgical notes to herself as she examined each patient. He's going to lose two fingers, she thought as she examined one patient. She moved to the next one, sorting out treatments as she worked.

She couldn't resist snapping at one of the students who was stuck with a group of "crimps" as she moved over to examine her. "Shut your head. Right now, we can't afford to enforce your ridiculous Anaxi segregation. There are lives at stake and those of us who have basic bloody compassion don't particularly care if those lives are passive or galdori," she said fiercely, though she kept her voice low. "They're all worth saving."

She immediately regretted her words, but they couldn't be taken back. Dammit, Anna. What have you done? she thought to herself as she closed her eyes for a split second, reaching for the inner calm that had slid out of her fingers. When she opened her eyes and spoke, her voice was conciliatory. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I hope you can forgive me," she said to the girl. "I know you're scared, but I promise you, with all us galdori around, we'll be able to stop any more diableries." It wasn't a promise she was sure she could keep, but she hoped it would negate some of the potential harm her careless words had caused.

Anna let out a relieved breath as she saw the first stretcher come in. "Come on, let's get you out of here. You'll be safe in the galdori wing of the hospital, I promise," she said gently to the girl. She brought the girl to the gurney, giving the orderly a quick shake of her head as he arched an eyebrow. She knew there were more severely injured patients, but it was important to get this girl out of the cafeteria before her fear and anger spread.

She let the orderly help the girl up onto the gurney and pulled him aside once he finished settling the girl and pulled blankets over her. "Put a 'no passives' note on her medical chart, Lionel. There might be others who feel the same way, so call in some of the medical students to help in the galdori wing. Let anyone you see know to keep an eye out for patients who might need a note on their chart."

Anna stepped away from the chaos, choosing to focus on directing people as they came in instead of going back to patients. She needed a few moments to calm down and remind herself that she had to tolerate the blatant racism against passives while they dealt with this crisis. Don't be that stupid again, Anna, she chided herself.
word count: 751
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Elisora Rivaen
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Thu Mar 07, 2019 8:10 am

25th of Ophus, 2718
A wave of relief washed over her as the static mages jumped into action like she had asked. A man, probably a teacher, knelt by her side along with Mikael, who had returned with a handful of students and staffs. Elise could clearly see the paleness of the teacher’s lips and his quivering hands – no doubt the sight had shocked him. Still, she was impressed that he was still willing to assist her. “What can I do to help?”

“I need you to conjure some warm water. Encase the girl’s legs in it, but keep swirling it to mimic flowing water.” It was the best thing they all could do for now.

As he did what she instructed, the young woman also started wording her spell. It was a basic one, perhaps one of the first ones she had learned during her Living Conversation class. The mona responded languidly, shutting down the nerves that would allow the girl to feel pain temporarily. The pain had been useful in telling her what was wrong, but it was time to ease Lyla’s suffering – temporarily, at least. Its effect was almost instantaneous. The tense lines on the girl’s face started to ease and her sobs slowly dissolved into a prayer instead.

“Keep her company, Mikael,” the young doctor instructed with a reassuring pat on his shoulder. The chaos was dying down bit by bit and Lyla seemed to have mostly calmed down. She could try to examine another patient. “If she starts hurting again, remember the numbing spell I taught you? Use it, alright? You can do it.”

Only after the student’s hesitant nod that Elise finally let herself turn her attention back to the rest of the room. She moved through the crowd slowly, stopping every once in a while to tell those uninjured to go out of the cafeteria. People crowding and gawking over those that needed help always complicates things. The static mages she instructed to do the same thing for those with visible frostbites.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for more help from the hospital to arrive.

Elise straightened and took a moment to take in a deep breath. For the first time in quite a while, she thought of her brother. Edriel. It was fortunate that he not here, but that wasn’t exactly comforting either. A student was killed by a passive. Things would take turns for the worst for people like her brother. It had been years since she had seen him, but now… She needed to find him.
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