Golem Girl
12-08-09, 07:48 PM
MISSION: A NEW SEMESTER, A NEW BEGINNING (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=20111)
Closed to the Duffy Bracken and Logan! :3
“It is only through the rigorous and data-based analysis of natural phenomenon that magic can truly be understood. It is not an art form, but a science; not the mad hummings of half-crazed ancient illusionists but the intellectual pursuit of an understanding of our natural surroundings.”
--Professor Waderburn Achendenth, in his renowned paper “On the Positive Use of Scientific Techniques in the Study of Arcana & Various Extranatural Pursuits," on Magical Theory.
“Yeah well, I think Waderburn is full of shit.”
--Professor Artemis Raddenbecker the Second (supposedly said off the record), on Magical Theory.
* * * * * * *
Magic is an interesting thing. It fascinates even those who do not possess it, empowers those who possess it in small quantities, and drives mad those who manage to obtain it in large doses. Most of all, however, it confuses.
Wizards are famous for disagreeing on everything, especially interior decorating.
Angela Battersby, born in a desert where the most complex piece of architecture was a cloth tent and camel dung was considered fine art, looked about the interior of the vast gothic cathedral with pure awe. She had known that the Order of Milieus Cordeaux was wealthy, and that their welcoming festival for new students would be impressive, but to produce such splendor! It was incredible!
Did that man really have porcupine following him about on a leash?
It seemed to be decided by two chief decorating styles, which she decided to call the Dribbly School and the Modern School. The Dribbly School of Decorating seemed to enjoy massive, weakly burning candles, which they placed everywhere. With all the robes and broad-brimmed hats about the place, it was wonder a fire hadn’t already started. Frequently these candles were surrounded by arcane and mystical runes, skulls with ravens perched on them, and other traditional symbols of wizardry. The men about them were dressed in lengthy, flowing rainbow-colored robes more often than not embroidered with astrological symbols.
The Modern School, on the other hand, had perhaps decided that there were already enough fire hazards in the place and chose to decorate with simple but impressive floating magical globes of light. These globes were uncomfortably bright, causing the wizards around them to squint all the time. Perhaps they thought it made them look erudite; Angie thought they just looked like they always were about to sneeze but couldn’t quite make it happen. These wizards were dressed in simple black robes or, sometimes, not even robes at all. She even saw one man wearing a suit!
A small school of fish swam past her head and Angie watched in awe. Soon after, a short little wizard with a crooked nose ran past in a rush. He bumped into Angie.
“Whoops! Sorry! Fish got off their leashes again! Haven’t perfected the Piscine Obedience Formula quite yet! Close to a breakthrough, though!” he shouted to no one in particular, and hurried off.
Everywhere she looked; there was a new wonder to behold. Here, a man transformed into a bear before a cheering audience and then roared impressively. There, a juggler entertaining a group of children (presumably those of the staff) threw a few fireballs into the air, which exploded into bright green fireworks. There, a worried looking man wearing wire rimmed spectacles and a lot of black was handing out pamphlets. They were entitled SPEAKING TO DEAR OLD GRAMMA ABIGAIL: KEY DIFFERENCES BETWEEN NECROMANCY AND WHOLESOME AFTER-LIFE COMMUNICATIONS and had a picture of an old lady holding an apple pie on the front. As Angie watched, a burly man with a sword took the man away. Hmmm.
Oh, and the food! Wizards seemed to love their food almost as much as they loved hats with points on them and disliked fire safety. There was one table filled entirely with roast turkeys; a bowl of pudding that looked large enough swim in, and gingerbread men that walked up to you and begged to be eaten.
It was more like a carnival than the opening ceremonies of a prestigious university.
Angela closed her eyes and attempted to focus. Here she was, standing in the center of the enrollment fair of the University she had dreamed of attending. Was she working on signing up? No, she was standing with her mouth open like some stupid yokel fresh out of the hills. That was sort of true, though. She’d come from far away, all the way in the Desert of Fallien. There, they certainly did not have a University quite like this. In fact, in her family, women weren’t even allowed to practice magic! Here, she hoped, things were different. Enough gawking. That was unlike her, and just would not do. Time to pull herself together!
She breathed deeply and tried to orient herself. She was standing approximately in the center of the enormous building the semester-starting fair was being held in. The Academic Registry, where one was supposed to sign up, was at the back of the room. There was an enormous crowd between her and the tome.
Not a problem.
After a few minutes of shouldering, shoving, and (rudest of all) “excuse me”-ing herself through the crowd, Angie made her way to the head of the crowd. The Academic Registry itself sat on the table in front of her, with a large quill pen in front of it. Behind the table stood the heads of staff of the University. In front of Angie was a small, skinny man with square glasses and a neatly trimmed mustache. Next to him stood an enormous man with a beard large enough for a small family of albatross to nest in. The contrast was…stark.
“Excuse me!” the large wizard shouted. “Excuse me! Would everyone please pay attention for a moment!”
The crowd was as raucous as ever, and paid no notice.
“EXCUSE ME!” the smaller wizard shouted. His voice, magically enhanced, seemed impossibly loud. Angela felt as though she might never hear again. “LISTEN UP! IT IS TIME FOR THE OPENING SPEECHES!”
The crowd fell silent.
“Thank you,” the larger wizard said to the smaller one. Death threats had been said with more sincere kindness. “First of all, I would like to welcome you all to the opening festival of the Order of Milieus Cordeaux University! We’re going to have a great spring semester!”
The crowd cheered. The man waited for a moment and then continued speaking.
“My name, as you all know I hope, is Artemis Raddenbacker the Second. I am head of the Department of Magical Philosophy here at the University, and I have been given the burdensome task of a welcoming speech! I hope to tell you new students especially many odious—“
“Copious,” the small wizard said, with a cough.
“—that’s what I said,” Raddenbacker continued without a pause for breath, “copious things about our great University! Magic, you see, is truly an art form, as great as painting and as hauntingly beautiful as a violin. Many of you, I hope, will have innate talent to hone, as any artist would, to a sharp and, at least for your enemies, precarious—“
“Perilous.”
“—as I said, a perilous point! I hope you will all come to appreciate the combination of delicate practice and innate creative talent that magic truly takes, especially—“
“Well, at least the first of those is true,” the small wizard muttered.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said,” the small wizard said, voice rising, “that at least the first of those as true. It’s hard to say anything about ‘innate talent’ given certain members present!”
“Excuse me,” Raddenbacker said, in approximately the tone of voice that others have used to say ‘I shall chop off your head and fill it with cockroaches.’ “[/i]Excuse me[/i], but I was just about to tell the student body about the wonderful programs my department has to offer, such as Musical Magical Theory, Demonology—“
“A waste of time and the pursuit of old fools,” the smaller wizard interrupted once more. “Excuse me, but my name is Professor Waderburn Achendenth, head of the Scientific Pursuit of Magic Department, and I think I shall be taking things over from here. Magic, students, is no violin or painter’s brush. It is the rigorous study and application of natural principles, accompanied by—“
“Waderburn, we all know how you feel about this subject, but for once could you keep your mouth closed?” Raddenbacker said coldy.
Angie stared on in amazement. This was the most entertaining thing that had happened yet.
“Oh, I keep my mouth closed!” Waderburn shouted. “I suppose you’ve forgotten the Banana Crème Pudding Incident already?”
“I told you not to bring that up in public!”
“Batty old conjurer!”
“Daft prestidigitator!”
“When Mother hears about this do you have any idea how mad she’ll be?”
“Oh, Mother this, Mother that, she’s not my mum! She’s just my step-mother anyway, and when Dad gets wind that you brought up the Banana Crème Pudding Incident, oh he’ll…”
Angie found words escaping her mouth without her bidding. “Excuse me,” she said, seemingly without the interaction of her brain at all. “Excuse me sirs, but don’t you suppose it could be both?”
“Both what?” the bickering wizards snapped at her simultaneously.
“Well, an art form and a science. My father always said that we must carefully observe our spells, but that creativity was another essential component of a mage.”
“I see,” Waderburn said. “And your family would be…?”
Angela blushed. “Um, well,” she stuttered. “Scholarship student actually, sir.”
“Oh,” Raddenbacker said. “One of those. Well that explains your lack of manners. Why don’t you get in the back of the line, and when your audition comes up we’ll just…see how things go. Shall we?”
Angie nodded, mortally embarrassed.
“Speaking of auditions!” Waderburn shouted, “The time has come! Everyone, line up before this table, please! Orderly as you can! Each prospective student will show us a magical feat and answer a few quick questions. Quick as you can, please! Line up! Line up!”
The two wizards looked at her disdainfully and shooed her away. Angie, head low, made her way to the very back of the line within the cathedral. Her chances of being accepted into the University now were slim, she supposed. Her father was right. She didn’t have enough self-control to be a wizard after all.
Angela Battersby, however, was not the sort to give up easily. She took her place (last place) and stood there firmly. She’d give the audition a go nonetheless. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?
What did she have to lose?
“Alright everyone!” Raddenbecker shouted with his magically enhanced voice. “The new semester has officially BEGUN!”
The crowd cheered.
Closed to the Duffy Bracken and Logan! :3
“It is only through the rigorous and data-based analysis of natural phenomenon that magic can truly be understood. It is not an art form, but a science; not the mad hummings of half-crazed ancient illusionists but the intellectual pursuit of an understanding of our natural surroundings.”
--Professor Waderburn Achendenth, in his renowned paper “On the Positive Use of Scientific Techniques in the Study of Arcana & Various Extranatural Pursuits," on Magical Theory.
“Yeah well, I think Waderburn is full of shit.”
--Professor Artemis Raddenbecker the Second (supposedly said off the record), on Magical Theory.
* * * * * * *
Magic is an interesting thing. It fascinates even those who do not possess it, empowers those who possess it in small quantities, and drives mad those who manage to obtain it in large doses. Most of all, however, it confuses.
Wizards are famous for disagreeing on everything, especially interior decorating.
Angela Battersby, born in a desert where the most complex piece of architecture was a cloth tent and camel dung was considered fine art, looked about the interior of the vast gothic cathedral with pure awe. She had known that the Order of Milieus Cordeaux was wealthy, and that their welcoming festival for new students would be impressive, but to produce such splendor! It was incredible!
Did that man really have porcupine following him about on a leash?
It seemed to be decided by two chief decorating styles, which she decided to call the Dribbly School and the Modern School. The Dribbly School of Decorating seemed to enjoy massive, weakly burning candles, which they placed everywhere. With all the robes and broad-brimmed hats about the place, it was wonder a fire hadn’t already started. Frequently these candles were surrounded by arcane and mystical runes, skulls with ravens perched on them, and other traditional symbols of wizardry. The men about them were dressed in lengthy, flowing rainbow-colored robes more often than not embroidered with astrological symbols.
The Modern School, on the other hand, had perhaps decided that there were already enough fire hazards in the place and chose to decorate with simple but impressive floating magical globes of light. These globes were uncomfortably bright, causing the wizards around them to squint all the time. Perhaps they thought it made them look erudite; Angie thought they just looked like they always were about to sneeze but couldn’t quite make it happen. These wizards were dressed in simple black robes or, sometimes, not even robes at all. She even saw one man wearing a suit!
A small school of fish swam past her head and Angie watched in awe. Soon after, a short little wizard with a crooked nose ran past in a rush. He bumped into Angie.
“Whoops! Sorry! Fish got off their leashes again! Haven’t perfected the Piscine Obedience Formula quite yet! Close to a breakthrough, though!” he shouted to no one in particular, and hurried off.
Everywhere she looked; there was a new wonder to behold. Here, a man transformed into a bear before a cheering audience and then roared impressively. There, a juggler entertaining a group of children (presumably those of the staff) threw a few fireballs into the air, which exploded into bright green fireworks. There, a worried looking man wearing wire rimmed spectacles and a lot of black was handing out pamphlets. They were entitled SPEAKING TO DEAR OLD GRAMMA ABIGAIL: KEY DIFFERENCES BETWEEN NECROMANCY AND WHOLESOME AFTER-LIFE COMMUNICATIONS and had a picture of an old lady holding an apple pie on the front. As Angie watched, a burly man with a sword took the man away. Hmmm.
Oh, and the food! Wizards seemed to love their food almost as much as they loved hats with points on them and disliked fire safety. There was one table filled entirely with roast turkeys; a bowl of pudding that looked large enough swim in, and gingerbread men that walked up to you and begged to be eaten.
It was more like a carnival than the opening ceremonies of a prestigious university.
Angela closed her eyes and attempted to focus. Here she was, standing in the center of the enrollment fair of the University she had dreamed of attending. Was she working on signing up? No, she was standing with her mouth open like some stupid yokel fresh out of the hills. That was sort of true, though. She’d come from far away, all the way in the Desert of Fallien. There, they certainly did not have a University quite like this. In fact, in her family, women weren’t even allowed to practice magic! Here, she hoped, things were different. Enough gawking. That was unlike her, and just would not do. Time to pull herself together!
She breathed deeply and tried to orient herself. She was standing approximately in the center of the enormous building the semester-starting fair was being held in. The Academic Registry, where one was supposed to sign up, was at the back of the room. There was an enormous crowd between her and the tome.
Not a problem.
After a few minutes of shouldering, shoving, and (rudest of all) “excuse me”-ing herself through the crowd, Angie made her way to the head of the crowd. The Academic Registry itself sat on the table in front of her, with a large quill pen in front of it. Behind the table stood the heads of staff of the University. In front of Angie was a small, skinny man with square glasses and a neatly trimmed mustache. Next to him stood an enormous man with a beard large enough for a small family of albatross to nest in. The contrast was…stark.
“Excuse me!” the large wizard shouted. “Excuse me! Would everyone please pay attention for a moment!”
The crowd was as raucous as ever, and paid no notice.
“EXCUSE ME!” the smaller wizard shouted. His voice, magically enhanced, seemed impossibly loud. Angela felt as though she might never hear again. “LISTEN UP! IT IS TIME FOR THE OPENING SPEECHES!”
The crowd fell silent.
“Thank you,” the larger wizard said to the smaller one. Death threats had been said with more sincere kindness. “First of all, I would like to welcome you all to the opening festival of the Order of Milieus Cordeaux University! We’re going to have a great spring semester!”
The crowd cheered. The man waited for a moment and then continued speaking.
“My name, as you all know I hope, is Artemis Raddenbacker the Second. I am head of the Department of Magical Philosophy here at the University, and I have been given the burdensome task of a welcoming speech! I hope to tell you new students especially many odious—“
“Copious,” the small wizard said, with a cough.
“—that’s what I said,” Raddenbacker continued without a pause for breath, “copious things about our great University! Magic, you see, is truly an art form, as great as painting and as hauntingly beautiful as a violin. Many of you, I hope, will have innate talent to hone, as any artist would, to a sharp and, at least for your enemies, precarious—“
“Perilous.”
“—as I said, a perilous point! I hope you will all come to appreciate the combination of delicate practice and innate creative talent that magic truly takes, especially—“
“Well, at least the first of those is true,” the small wizard muttered.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said,” the small wizard said, voice rising, “that at least the first of those as true. It’s hard to say anything about ‘innate talent’ given certain members present!”
“Excuse me,” Raddenbacker said, in approximately the tone of voice that others have used to say ‘I shall chop off your head and fill it with cockroaches.’ “[/i]Excuse me[/i], but I was just about to tell the student body about the wonderful programs my department has to offer, such as Musical Magical Theory, Demonology—“
“A waste of time and the pursuit of old fools,” the smaller wizard interrupted once more. “Excuse me, but my name is Professor Waderburn Achendenth, head of the Scientific Pursuit of Magic Department, and I think I shall be taking things over from here. Magic, students, is no violin or painter’s brush. It is the rigorous study and application of natural principles, accompanied by—“
“Waderburn, we all know how you feel about this subject, but for once could you keep your mouth closed?” Raddenbacker said coldy.
Angie stared on in amazement. This was the most entertaining thing that had happened yet.
“Oh, I keep my mouth closed!” Waderburn shouted. “I suppose you’ve forgotten the Banana Crème Pudding Incident already?”
“I told you not to bring that up in public!”
“Batty old conjurer!”
“Daft prestidigitator!”
“When Mother hears about this do you have any idea how mad she’ll be?”
“Oh, Mother this, Mother that, she’s not my mum! She’s just my step-mother anyway, and when Dad gets wind that you brought up the Banana Crème Pudding Incident, oh he’ll…”
Angie found words escaping her mouth without her bidding. “Excuse me,” she said, seemingly without the interaction of her brain at all. “Excuse me sirs, but don’t you suppose it could be both?”
“Both what?” the bickering wizards snapped at her simultaneously.
“Well, an art form and a science. My father always said that we must carefully observe our spells, but that creativity was another essential component of a mage.”
“I see,” Waderburn said. “And your family would be…?”
Angela blushed. “Um, well,” she stuttered. “Scholarship student actually, sir.”
“Oh,” Raddenbacker said. “One of those. Well that explains your lack of manners. Why don’t you get in the back of the line, and when your audition comes up we’ll just…see how things go. Shall we?”
Angie nodded, mortally embarrassed.
“Speaking of auditions!” Waderburn shouted, “The time has come! Everyone, line up before this table, please! Orderly as you can! Each prospective student will show us a magical feat and answer a few quick questions. Quick as you can, please! Line up! Line up!”
The two wizards looked at her disdainfully and shooed her away. Angie, head low, made her way to the very back of the line within the cathedral. Her chances of being accepted into the University now were slim, she supposed. Her father was right. She didn’t have enough self-control to be a wizard after all.
Angela Battersby, however, was not the sort to give up easily. She took her place (last place) and stood there firmly. She’d give the audition a go nonetheless. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?
What did she have to lose?
“Alright everyone!” Raddenbecker shouted with his magically enhanced voice. “The new semester has officially BEGUN!”
The crowd cheered.