The Watchers of Night (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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daybreakacademy2020-03-16 09:42 pm
thewatchers) wrote in daybreakacademy2020-03-16 09:42 pm
Entry tags:
Class Exchange - Tower of Adamant
Class Exchange - Tower of Adamant
Log Comm | Network Comm | OOC Comm | Navigation
The Tower of Adamant is a lonely school deep in the mountains, a spire that reaches high into the clouds and, it’s said, puts maze like roots of corridors into the rock below. Camouflaged by illusions and surrounded by walls of orichalcum to prevent remote viewing by Seers, it can only be reached by an arduous journey on foot or through specialized arrangements with those within the Tower. Daybreak has opted for the second option on the 16th of March to transport its students and staff, as even at the best of times, the mountains can be treacherously unpredictable even without the pressure of magic.
The atmosphere at the Tower could be described, generously, as ‘quiet’. It could also be described, less generously, as ‘stifling’ or ‘oppressive’. There’s a hushed hum of conversation that tends to stop whenever anyone walks past.
A. Tour - Classrooms
The classrooms are certainly built with one purpose in mind, and that appears to be ‘easily defensible in times of crisis’. The desks are able to be used as shields, the windows can be shuttered in case of alarm, and the few cabinets are stocked with a mixture of classroom supplies and emergency weaponry. Personal student effects seem to include a lot of equipment in general.
The students themselves are, apparently, working hard. In every filled classroom, students in immaculate uniforms are giving full attention to teachers or keeping their heads down as they work. Even the few outsides of classes tend not to be talkative, though they are respectful...if prone to giving Daybreak’s more eclectic collection of people judgemental looks. (The staff doesn’t bother to hide their judgemental looks.)
B. Tour - Arenas
The Tower is said to be a school that hones its students to the finest edge for the war against Nightfall, and to that end, it has many arenas equipped for all-out battle - both inside and outside - with smaller infirmaries to augment them and treat any injuries sustained. Training in the bitter cold of the mountains seems to be an expected part of life here to some degree, as many of the outdoors arenas are left exposed to the weather.
If those visitors from Daybreak desire it, they can even fight against some of the Academy’s students and staff in two-on-two matches, as is traditional, or watch them duel with each other; in battle, they are focused and clearly highly trained (but rigid) combatants, no matter their demeanors outside of it.
C. Tour - Workshops
The Tower of Adamant, similar to the Academy, has access to a great deal of resources that it uses to maintain its workshops, forges, bunkers, and other areas of that nature. Unlike the classrooms and most of the arenas, they form the bulk of the Tower’s underground ‘root’, with a seemingly confusing web of corridors hiding where the Academy’s equipment is made, maintained, and stored by faceless constructs and masked staff. For the keen-eyed, symbols on the corridors’ walls and floors serve as a rough guide to navigation, though many of the staff and students here seem to have committed routes to memory.
D. Going Off-Tour...?
Reply to this comment to investigate a room, a set of equipment, or a strange object. It will get you a single comment with your result. ]
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Its only strange visual property is that it doesn't reflect light, despite being looking like metal; it seems to absorb it, with not even the slightest hint of a sheen on its dull surface.
It has a peculiar reaction in John's proximity, however; its surface begins to shift and pattern into red eyes, muttering in a language too old to understand. Though it does nothing else, it's clear that it's having a reaction to daemonic presence, sealed though that presence is - and depending on how attuned he is to Phobos' reactions, he might even feel a slight pull towards the object.
If he moves away from it far enough (it doesn't need to be more than a few steps) the object will fall silent. However, the eyes will remain for a slightly longer period of time before fading - all moving to watch him.
A daemonic device? Something intended to track daemons? Perhaps even a daemon itself? It's unclear what it is, or what this strict, stifling Tower would want with such an item. ]
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However, every available inch of wall space is covered in pages upon pages of scrawling writing. Reading them reveals apparent predictions for the future, and what preparations should be taken for them; equipment, training, and so on. Pens, ink, and blank pages litter the floor, leaving barely enough room for a blank space where a person might sit, or stand.
This room isn't dusty at all. In fact, it's immaculately clean. ]
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The remains of some strange animal, mummified and incomplete, sit inside the case. Depending on Christo's knowledge of Egyptian religion and mythology, he may recognise it as strikingly similar, even in fossilized form, to depictions of the beast commonly associated with the Egyptian god Set.
As an angel, however, he's able to sense that the remains clearly contain some strange power. Sketches and blueprints surround the case, and a metal skeleton is in the process of being constructed. Drafting pencils and other materials scattered about suggest someone was in the process of working on this before they were called away. ]
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Zagreus stared at the classroom of industrious students, but someone looking at him might feel like he wasn't really paying attention to them. Which was true. He was lost in bad memories.
After a few moments of not paying attention to his tour guide, Zagreus abruptly turned around and just left. He didn't care where. He just had to get out of here. Somewhere where the air wasn't so stiflingly STILL and he didn't feel like turning any corner might put him back in the administrative offices of Tartarus again.
-B-
Zagreus felt a little better at the arena, with the sky over him and the freezing mountain breeze. As strange as wind and sky still felt to him, they were always strong reminders that he was free, and that he never had to go back.
BUT he was also shivering where he sat, watching four of the Tower students going at it in the arena. "N-n-never thought I'd m-miss the fields of Asphodel!" He said, in a cheery voice between chattering teeth, despite wearing multiple jackets and scarves.
B
She doesn't remember much of the Underworld. It's the House, chilly and spotless, and its training grounds, that she remembers most.
"Was it warmer there? I don't recall."
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Ah, fond memories.
Well, not THAT fond, but at least he wasn't cold then.
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There's a moment of silence as she watches the students spar in the cold, almost statue-like in her stillness.
"If you're truly so susceptible to cold weather, I could make you proper garments," she says at last, glancing over to him. "Ones that won't require you to be so bulky."
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"Two-on-two matches are the tradition here. Or so I've heard." She stands, putting a hand to the hilt of her needle.
"It would be a good way to warm up."
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Whether or not that was true, Zagreus got a dirty look or two from the students sitting up in the bleachers with them, and whispers started spreading.
He may not actually have a choice.
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"Then perhaps they'll learn something new in the doing." The sharp comment also doesn't help. It does the opposite of helping, in fact. There are more whispers, and more looks.
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This is everything he should want: discipline, order, efficiency, everyone taking the threat of Nightfall seriously for once... It's all he's wanted Daybreak to do.
And yet he hates it. It's cold, sterile, rigid, everything from Celestia distilled down into its most irritating form. And for all the frustrations he has with the Academy (God above, did they have to keep a Herald on campus? Must they keep so many daemons on staff?), somehow, in some way he can't quite put his finger on, it bothers him less than this.
"Maybe I'm just getting ill," he murmurs to himself.
B
"..ridiculous," Christo hisses under his breath.
He'd been willing to give the Tower a shot. For all of his inexplicable reservations about them, they did seem to have their act together when it came to training the people attending. But he'd watched at least three of the matches between Tower students and staff so far and every last one of them failed to meet his standards.
"Considering their haughty demeanor, I expected better. They act like machines out there."
B
Is that a flask the undergrad is pulling out of his pocket? Yes, it is, and he opens it to take a sip. His eyes follow the current match and he grimaces a little. He's not even a combat specialist and he can tell what'll happen when these people run up against something creative.
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"I understand the need for discipline and respect, but... you're right. I should hope that whoever they have coming up with their strategies on the battlefield is capable of using them correctly."
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"I hope so, too, but what the fuck are they going to do against something that's changing faster than their orders?"
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A
The response comes from Héctor who's mostly been out of the way of things for the majority of the trip. Everything about this place said he shouldn't be here from his undead status to his lack of personal wealth to, well, all of him. Not to mention, most of the touring goes around in the day where he just can't manage.
"I think I saw some kind of infirmary looking place a few halls back."
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Truthfully, given the way the school is run, he'd have to be a monkey-brained moron to let anyone examine him.
"Speaking of, are you handling it all right yourself?"
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He's told that lie so many times now it comes easy. It may as well be true.
But he does pause a moment.
"...I do kind of feel like I've been sent to boot camp though. Can you believe this place? What are these kids going to do when their lives go back to normal? What will they even be like?"