Mod Account for Diatu Magicademy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
magicademymods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
diatuooc2019-01-16 09:53 am
magicademymods) wrote in diatuooc2019-01-16 09:53 am
Entry tags:
Test Drive #1
The Airship There
By carriage or coach, spellwagon or ship, perhaps even on the wings of magic, the Sundered heed the call to gather at the Tenzin High Dock of Vulbaria. On this, the appointed day, a great passenger airship sits in the dock, the seals of the six Houses fluttering from flagpoles along her length and her wooden planks atremble as if it is eager to be off. At last, the gangplank descends, and the Hand of Diatu opens her doors to the Sundered so they can take their first step on the path towards protection and salvation.
Inside, you may choose from long comfortable couches, broad circular tables surrounded by straight-backed, cushioned chairs, or viewing seats at the glass front of the ship. Sundered who need special accommodations are quickly provided for, ensuring everyone travels in comfort. Trays drift through the air periodically, offering snacks and drinks to the passengers.
This may be the first chance you've had to truly relax since being swept to this strange world. Certainly it is the first chance you've had to meet your fellow Sundered. As the airship lifts gracefully off from the High Dock, your journey to Diatu begins. Excited? Nervous? Simply angry? Or perhaps searching among the crowd here for a familiar face or some sign of hope?
Rain, Rain...
Welcome to Diatu Magicademy. It's raining.
Seriously raining. One of those downpours that feels like a curtain has dropped on you, that soaks to the bone within a second of stepping into it. Obviously, this won't do, and a civic-minded cluster of Purifeul students has taken it upon themselves to solve this problem. No sooner do you step through the gates then you practically run into a giant and complex runic diagram being drawn out with long staffs by several students, all of them speaking seeming nonsense about derivatives, limits, and equations. Magic! In action right before your eyes!
And yet, just as their mathemagics wind towards the center of the diagram and they all make their final stroke -- one student slashes his line off on a weird tangent, speaking an equation that sounds nothing at all like what his fellows utter. The spell completes... weirdly, as the students look in horror at each other. The temperature abruptly drops seventy degrees, and a cold wind begins to blow.
Welcome to Diatu Magicademy. Please get out of the blizzard before you freeze.
Thaumaturgy 101
After some fifteen minutes of grumbling from Professor Loshakle, followed by half an hour of theory and basics, the grouchy old man finally gets to drawing a magical symbol on the board. "This is straight out of Fundamental Principles of Wizarding," he says, writing Sense Magic next to the symbol. "As is everything you'll learn here. I'll emphasize yet again, you MUST know the name of the spell and the proper gestures. You can't simply wave your wand in any old pattern and say any old words. That isn't how it works," he says, glaring around the class as if daring someone to question him.
But he gives no one the opportunity, instead producing a wand and making the gesture to trace the symbol he'd drawn in midair. "Sense Magic," he intones, and the air and his wand both shimmer.
"Now. You all try." Just like that. What the Professor doesn't mention is that this spell can produce some very interesting results if the symbol is off, or the timing...
Bala-inlota Practice
Bala-inlota is the main interaction the Magicademies have with each other -- the sport of wizards! Two teams take the field, with the goal of heaving a ball through their opponent's hoop. The rules primarily revolve around not inflicting lethal injury, because bala-inlota is a free-for-all at best, where each team relies on both physical and magical might to win the day.
You kind of wish someone had told you this BEFORE you got hauled onto the field so the coach could see if you've got what it takes.
Now half a dozen players are charging down the field at your ragtag group of semi-willing recruits, while another half-dozen are preparing spells that you've been absolutely assured aren't as nasty as the ones deployed in actual play. On your side: the ball, your wits, your physical ability, and maybe three classes's worth of magical education.
On the upside, magic is pretty good at healing.
no subject
Seeing this boy fight to raise himself to his feet, he feels that perhaps he ought to show at least the same amount of resilience, and he picks himself up, though the cold bothers him every ilm of the way. He brushes some flakes and flecks of ice off from his clothing, cold but pleasant to discard at least, and takes another deep breath or two to try to regulate himself.]
Is something amiss? Ah— mayhap a comfort of home?
no subject
At least, he thinks he's a teen. The pointed ears are certainly new, but unsurprising given all who else were on board that airship. He rubs his arms and shakes his head.]
N-No. I don't kn-know if I'd call it a c-comfort. But it was useful for the t-time I had it. Magic from home.
no subject
[He sniffles, still trying to adjust to the warm air, and before he can continue speaking, he can feel it building up into a sneeze... which escapes into his sleeve as he raises his arm to block it.]
Ah, my apologies. I do believe the cold is something for which I shall never be rid of my incompatibility. [Now, where were they? Ah, yes, magick.] I, too, feel even more at a loss without my spellbook. Had this happened after the training we are to receive, mayhap we could have a means to combat it.
[He looks at the other boy, shivering to death, and then down the hallway.]
Come, there ought to be something we can do to hasten our recovery. A kitchen, perhaps? I should be glad for a warm cup of tea right now.
no subject
[He grew up in a climate that pretty much never changed. It's likely becoming a l'Cie that helped him survive the new locales of Gran Pulse.]
Ah, r-right. You'd think they'd g-give us some help. [Or a tour. Hope pushed himself to his feet, still holding close to himself. He promptly sneezed, although he raised his arm to help block it as well.] 'scuse me.
no subject
[He glances back towards the door. It didn't seem as though any staff were in a rush to get the situation under control, but he isn't exactly keen to rush back into the chill to investigate it, either. It's only some hypothetical musing for now, at any rate, and tending to their well-being takes precedence. Paying it no further mind, he starts to lead them down the hallway, bits of half-melted ice dripping from his clothing with each step.]
It would be nice to encounter some personnel amid our excursion. A change of clothes seems rather in order first and foremost.