Forum Thread
The Institute of Combat.
Forum-Index → Roleplay → The Institute of Combat.(Casually boops back)
4. It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
-Extract from Invictus, William Ernest Henley
Mira went on her dorm's computer and played some games, managing to somehow get the high score for every game.
Due to some circumstances, Alcyma Galdjeligger was sent to this certain institution for whatever so and so reason. Someone unimportant supposedly went along the lines of 'unable to socialize' and 'no more home schooling' because of their 'responsibility as a mother'. To which the white haired female tend to flatly state that she wouldn't have a mother as boring. Which stands accurate, by the way. Her late mother was nothing but boring.
Alycma was brought up appreciating all that which is unique. Preferably one which holds much fascination that would last a longer period of time. But most of it could not hold a candle to her expectations.
Alcyma stood before the main gates of the academy, the iron bars still closed before her.
A prolonged paused.
"Uh."
"Am I suppose to--"
"... isn't this automatic..."
"Hey!" Forge shouted, raising his arm into the air and waving, trying to get the person's attention. He didn't break pace and kept moving towards them.
4. It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
-Extract from Invictus, William Ernest Henley
Bi-colored eyes glanced toward the femald and gave a shallow analysis.
'Yes, I'm suppose to attend but... so much younger... ' Aclyma thought to herself. "is this school even meant for my age group...'
Remember, Aclyma had only thought, accidentally forgetting to speak in the midst of considering her current position and if she should be turning to find the actual location.
However, her eyes settled upon the annoying vibrant heart.
Yellow on pink.
Blue cap.
"Why." The white haired asked the other.
And that was the only crystal clear word that she said.
Hey!
She looked up quickly to settle her vision on a rather matured looking man. She squinted. '...another student? ...teacher...?'
Her thoughts raced again, about the buildinh in front of her.
She must be lost.
"Hey." he repeated. He looked at the person on the other side of the gate, obviously much younger than him. He looked around. "You got names?" he asked, looking from one to the other and arched an eyebrow. So these were the kind of people who came here for combat training. Perhaps he'd be better off on his own. 'Still,' he decided, 'I'll play along for a while.'
4. It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
-Extract from Invictus, William Ernest Henley
'Hn. Either the teachers weren't taught manners, or he's a student and I'm vying for the latter. Then it's clear why he's at school for, then. I wonder if they start teaching from basic manners. Ah; maybe it's cultural differences- there are after all, some cultures more barbaric. I wonder which he was from? Should I be teaching him common courtesy of introducing oneself before demanding names from the other?'
'Ah. Whatever.'
Still silent all these time, Aclyma dropped her gaze to rest lazily in the man's direction before following his to the smaller girl donned in pink.
'Maybe I'm in the wrong place after all.'
Andrew saw Winter Walk over to some girls so he just stayed where he was and Closed his eyes under the tree again.
4. It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
-Extract from Invictus, William Ernest Henley