Living Quarters (Free Role Play)

As Kjell opened the door to his newest abode, he already felt like he knew what he was in for. The only semblance of colour in the hallway was from his dark red hair with a streak of orange, as well as the few trinkets he kept upon his person - arm bangles of varying colours, some piercings, and his outfit. All of them memories of another time, years ago.  He placed a hang on the door with the plastic sign. Regiment 1-31, it said.

That's the Regiment I was told of. Kjell thought to himself. I suppose some others will have an issue with how it all looks. Without further thought, he opened the door to find it empty of other beings, but this was of no surprise. He knew he would be early. Wasting no time, he started looking for a bedroom to place the small knapsack of things he brought with him, starting with the top floor. The search took no time at all - the living quarters were quite minimal, so finding a bedroom was rather easy. He avoided the room with the outlets, preferring to give it to those who needed it. In the end, he picked a room with no specialties, preferring the extra floor space. Finding the washrooms was of no issue either, and a quick check confirmed there was running water - hot and cold. Kjell started speaking out loud to an empty house. "At least we won't have to worry about water.". He took a quick look in the mirror - noting again the marks upon his body that confirmed his demonic heritage. He was used to it by now.

He wasn't concerned with the other arrivals yet - either they would arrive or they wouldn't. He silently hoped to himself that these recruits would be reliable, and that he wouldn't have to worry about a tragedy.Without much of a further thought, he went to his room to meditate - it would pass the time until someone arrived.

Kjell:

Arthur lifted his arms over his head slowly as he made his way down the hallway, a satisfied grunt as the pressure fell from his limbs-- what a hassle these past few days have been. But ending up here, of all places, was likely the more fortunate of many ways his long journey to the coast could have gone: a magic castle that can jump just about anywhere in the land... why, they had to end up near water eventually. (And with how this plot seemed to be shaping up, visiting just about every sort of natural setting the land had to offer was all but guaranteed) Not only that, but it left him with something to do once he finished his business there-- his partner would have wanted him to continue doing honest work. In his mind, that was perfectly satisfactory.

Hiking his travel satchel over one shoulder, a tall, dark-skinned man with long silver hair tied neatly behind his head stood for a moment in front of the chamber labelled 'Regiment 1-31'... and referencing the folded scrap of paper he'd been holding lightly between his fingers, he nodded, his head dipping slightly as he cautiously glided in and looked both ways down the chamber.

"...Hullo?" He called out-- and noticing a lone figure sitting on one of the bunks farther down the chamber, he sent him a hearty wave. "Am I early? Now, isn't that a surprise... ahaha. Fantastic."

After seeing all the Castle's personnel, one would find Arthur to be remarkably underdressed for the weather: wearing a plain dark gray shirt rolled up to his elbows and sturdy slacks-- which had clearly seen a lot of use since it last had been cared for, judging by the faint remnants of soot stains and dirt along its length-- tucked into his equally as weathered boots, a sturdy leather jacket hanging over the same shoulder he wore his travel satchel, he looked like he could have wandered in from the warm stretches of green far below the clouds; but as he took the bottom bunk just to the right of Kjell's, dropping his load of satchel, jacket, sheathed sword and all on the end, he slunk onto the cot as if it'd been the first time he'd had an opportunity to lay down in a long while.

Idly, his left hand reached down to a leather pouch hooked on the side of his belt, letting a brief moment of tranquility settle over him... before he opened his eyes again, glancing up towards the meditating figure.

"Nice to get your pick before the others start piling in, eh? Arthur Cheng Long, mercenary-- pleasure to be working with you."

"Oh, hello there."

A woman entered wearing one of Castle High's light gray uniforms, though with a few notable alterations made on account of her marine physiology. Her sleeves were pulled up to leave room for the lithe fins upon her arms, and her exposed skin was a gradient from blue to purple, like the light reflecting off a deep riverbed. Her eyes were more slanted ovals than spheres, colored a blue-tinted white, standing out well against the deep blues and greens of her face. A few large purple fins extended from the top and sides of her head, partially buried by well-kept brunette hair down to the woman's shoulders. Around the woman's neck hung a pendant of deep purple stone and crystal, covered in intricate carvings and signs, its chain curving just below her gills.

"It seems everyone else is out," she noted, her voice almost like a quiet hum, though well enunciated. "Hm. Well then, allow me to be the first to welcome you to Regiment 1-31."

As she walked toward the two, her posture was erect, her back straight and shoulders out as she moved, as if every step were planned and trained. Despite this confident body language, her expression was a simple, small smile, almost professional in nature, and her tone somewhat reserved.

She gave the two a deep bow, "My name is Candicolnketi Clrenstlveon--" she pronounced it almost like a short hymn, with rising and falling tones, "--but, um, everyone's just been calling me Candice." As she gave them each a look over, a more earnest smile appeared as she appreciated their... interesting, attire. "You two certainly look new. And comfortable," she said, noting Arthur's relaxed demeanor. "That's good. Adjusting to communal living can be difficult, so it's good to start from a positive headspace."

Candice appraised Kjell more closely, leaning in a bit to examine his fur and ears. "Another non-human in the castle? How surprising... I'd assumed I was the only one. Though you'll probably be less vulnerable to 'fish-out-of-water' puns than I," she shrugged, perhaps a bit annoyed by the joke. "Regardless, it's a pleasure to meet you both. I hope our operations together will be fruitful."

"Pardon...I don't mean to interrupt, but..."
The speaker was an older man, who had crept in to the room while discussion was ongoing. His wispy hair was an ashen gray, and his eyes were a dull, bottleglass green. Though he was slightly hunched with age, he still stood tall - at least 6'0, so he must have been quite a sight in his youth. And when he was wearing something other than a plain gray robe, the same dirty ashen color as his hair. Despite the tired lines of his face, his gaze was slightly...off-putting. As if his eyes were filled with something...something you couldn't quite touch.

But then, he spoke again, and his quavering voice belied his gaze - he really did sound harmless.
"Do any of you know where I might find a cane? I seem to have lost mine...I won't be getting very far without one, at my age."
And he smiled, slightly, though it seemed difficult to him - like a foreign action, one he wasn't used to doing. He was surprisingly casual, given the unique nature of the folks before him - he had surely swept the room with his gaze already, and thus had taken in their distinct forms. Despite this, he seemed concerned with only what he asked for.

"Hah! I think I hear new voices!"

A woman with very short, deep red hair entered from the other side of the long room. There wasn't a trace of the light grey colored uniform on her, though she had apparently been there at least a few days. She wore an open black jacket with small metal spikes adorning the shoulders and down the outside of both sleeves. Underneath was a plain purple t-shirt with some kind of faded logo on it. Her jeans were ripped and faded black and tucked into spiked combat boots. Upon further inspection, there was the same light grey color on her... cape? It seemed like it had been patched together to cover the whole thing, though on the underside was the same color purple with some black splotches here and there. It seemed like she had taken something she already had and put the uniform onto that rather than to change her whole look. As she moved closer, a neck tattoo became more visible, her hair and jacket were clearly styled so that it was plain for all to see. Three interlocking circles, one red, one green, and one purple. In fact, that's what the logo was on her shirt too.

She took confident strides to the cluster of people standing around, stopping by her bunk to grab an electric guitar, which she slung over her shoulder in one motion like she had done it for ages. "Hey. Name's Erika. You may have heard of me, you might not've. Doesn't matter. I'm ready for this and even have a pretty good resume for excelling at this sort of thing. Goddess, mortal, doesn't really matter, those are just labels after all." She played a short melody on her guitar, fully introducing herself. "I'm just me, Erika Klagelied, yeah. YOW!" The lights flickered for only a moment and she stopped, swinging the guitar back behind her with a large smirk.

Candice released a somewhat anxious sigh at the appearance of the musician. "Erika, I know you've already said 'it's fine,' but, um, are you positive your playing isn't damaging this chamber's lighting systems?" She raised her hands and quickly added, "Not that you're doing anything wrong! Just, it might be a good idea to double check, if you can?"

Her eyes widened a bit at the elderly fellow, "Oh, um, a cane? I'm not entirely sure... someone could ask the quartermaster. Perhaps there is one in the castle's stock? But perhaps not..." She gave the man a contrite look, "I confess that my lack of familiarity with this castle inhibits my ability to aid you, sir. I apologize."

The rocker laughed. "It's fine, really. If I wanted to break the lights, I would have already. But they aren't broken, so it's fine. You need to chill a little Candice."

She looked at the older man. "Oh, a cane... Hm... I mean I could... It's not exactly a normal thing to use as a cane. I can create instruments of all kinds. Maybe something long like a flute would work, otherwise, I'm not sure I can help you, myself."

Arthur, realizing it'd be best for him to sit up with the stream of newcomers arriving, pulled himself back up with a grunt- and remained cross-legged on his bunk, regarding each of them with a respectful nod in turn.

"Judging by what I'm hearing, you all must be my seniors here... they just keep getting more interesting by the minute." He cracked a subtle smirk, gesturing towards his scattered belongings, "I've only just settled here... as you can see. I'm Arthur Cheng Long- mercenary, blacksmith. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"As for canes, sir... if any of you happen to come across a decent piece of scrap or two, I wouldn't mind fashioning a new one... just to get familiar with the sorts of materials we have here. I'm sure it'd be a step up from leaning on a flute-- though I can't say a cane would have wandered far..."

As he listened to the introductions and responses, the old man seemed to deflate a little.

"I should not be surprised, I suppose...armies have little use for soldiers as old as I."

He turned towards the one who had introduced himself as Arthur.

"I would gladly take you up on your offer, young one, but I've only just gotten here, and I...well, even if I were a veteran soldier, I'm afraid I'd be of little use. I...I do not remember how I got here. Or where I was before. Or much else, and when I try to remember, I..."

The elder man stopped, his sentence trailing off, lost in thought - and just as thought would cross in to memory, a darkness stole across his expression. His eyes went slightly glassy, and his face slackened, as if his mind was recoiling from the touch of something...repugnant. However, it lasted but a moment - soon his eyes were once again clear, and his features animated; and though he was still a tired, old man, it was such a striking difference when compared to a moment ago, that he seemed filled with life.

"Well...if there are no canes to be found, currently...", he said, easing his way in to the room proper before claiming a bunk to sit on, "I think I'll rest a spell. I may not remember the journey here, but my knees tell me it was no Spring jaunt."

He paused, considering his next words carefully.

"I suppose you may call me Wander...that is what I do, after all - wander from place to place. It is as fitting a name as any, given..."

He faltered.

"...Given that I have lost most of my memory."

Kjell finally decided to look up, his gaze fixated on those around him who had been chatting for a little while.

"I didn't mean to keep your answers waiting - my name is Kjell, and I'm glad to meet you all. I'm sure that our future together will have many benefits" With that, Kjell stood up - he was roughly as tall as the tallest people in the room, give or take half an inch. He extended a hand towards each of his new allies before responding to Candice.

"Indeed I am - it's not altogether a strange sight to find non-humans, but you're the first non-human I've met here that isn't myself. Do you find that as odd as I do?"

He paused, spun around to Wander, then continued. "In the meantime, there may be a replacement somewhere nearby - although it may not be as good as an actual cane and may require some work on our end, something is better than nothing."

Candice gave a grave nod, "From what I've heard, your experience may not be unique, Sir Wanderer." She pulled out a small cloth and idly polished the buttons of her uniform and the pendant around her neck. "Several people -- including at least myself and Erika -- have only faint memories of coming to this castle. A damp cliff seems to be many people's last clear thought for a long while." She gave a shiver. "It's honestly quite... unsettling. The fate of one's own body, unknown."

She shook Kjell's hand with perfect form, delighted by the small pleasantry. "Ah, Kjell, Charmed! And well, I'm not wholly sure. Everyone looked much the same as I in my country, but since awakening here, the only others I've seen besides you are humans. Quite remarkable circumstances, really."

Finally, she turned to Arthur, again giving a bow. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Arthur. You say you're a blacksmith?" A curiosity played in her eyes like shimmering specks of mist as she spoke. "That must be fascinating: I studied a small amount of metalcraft in my youth, but I never had much chance to apply it, so I'm afraid most of it's slipped my mind. I'm sure the castle will be quite grateful to have your skillset."

"I'm afraid I'm more in the camp of Sir Wanderer, as far as, well, battlefield capability," she admitted, just a bit embarrassed. She traced circles on the ground with the tip of her shoe. "My education growing up was quite diverse, but some self-defense classes in my youth not withstanding, I've never come to open blows with someone. In fact, I spent most of the first day just coming to grips with the idea of a communal sleeping quarters..." a slight cough, as she raised her eyes back up, "especially, um, with men. But, such is life: I appreciate all this castle's done for me, so I'll play my part however I can."

The door was opened slowly, more in a meandering way than in an unsure or nervous one; the young woman entering seemed more annoyed at the palindromic thirteen which greeted her at the entryway than perturbed, dark eyes narrowing coldly in the way they might upon seeing, for instance, the bumbling approach of a lecherous day-drunk, or the polite smile of an overly-familiar older gentleman who asks to borrow things for just one night and then gambles them away before sundown,  or, perhaps, both of those people rolled up into one - it was a very specific look, you see.

But it lingered for only momentarily. She soon entered the room fully, gently shutting the door behind her, and gave a polite wave to the persons gathered therein. Her attire was simple, non-ostentatious, chaste; brown and grey robes with wood buttons, a shirt and shorts of the same colors, an almost butterscotch-colored straw hat with a red ribbon, a plain-looking sickle held in a loop at her hip, and no shoes or footwear whatsoever. The only adornment of any kind was a string-and-bottle necklace, the bottle containing a simple succulent and some soil to nourish it. A traveler's pack hung lazily from her shoulders, and she gave a long, low whistle as her gaze swung from one end of the room to the other in search of a place to put it. Her eyes themselves were a deep, dark brown, as was her freckled skin; and her short, thick hair was reminiscent of a sea of amber wheat. Her build was invisible beneath layers of cloth, but her countenance and posture suggested, faintly, a person who was used to hard labor but who was currently on break.

"Howdy, y'all," she said, in that particularly laid-back way. "Reckon this's where I'll be livin, huh. Quite a space, quite a space." She wandered over to one of the lower bunks in a corner of the room, which appeared to be empty - or, at least, nobody had put their stuff on it. "Hope nob'dy minds I take 'issun. Name's Yam. Pleased to make y'alls's acquaintance."

Arthur nodded along with Kjelle, regarding his suggestion of a replacement cane with a thoughtful tilt of his head-- as if his mind had already started piecing together hypothetical scrap into what would make a proper replacement.

"Awfully convenient we all seem to have wound up here with no memory of how exactly we got here, eh?" Arthur chuckled, clapping one of his crossed legs-- "Well, I've got nothing waiting for me back where I started walking from, anyhow. Regardless, you'd better rest those weary knees, Wander... I imagine on a busy day, the fittest of us will be jogging a mile and a half just running errands... though I'm certain we'll all have work delegated to us according to our strengths, for the most part."

To Candice, he continued listening respectfully ( "Yes, I spent the better part of seven years with my partner running our forge... though ) -- up until the end when she mentioned her apparent apprehension at both men and women sharing a living quarters: to which he shot her a sly look, arched eyebrows and all... though for how brief it was, few would have caught it unless they were looking straight at him. He dropped it quickly, cackling near-silently to himself before craning his head around the small crowd. He'd heard the door opening... and there, stood yet another arrival, a young fellow in dusty robes.

"Hullo," he greeted-- he was starting to get a little tired of repeating his name for everyone, though she turned away rather quickly... well, he could get in any outstanding introductions later. "I suppose this place will fill up fairly soon... if any of you would like to accompany me, I believe I'll start acquainting myself with this area -- perhaps I'll find a good piece of wood in need of a home along the way... hoho."

"Though..." He scratched the back of his head; as he slid off of his bed-- checking the pouch on his hip again, a thumb running against the top to ensure it was closed securely-- he shot a glance out towards the hallway, already envisioning the thick castle walls and unforgiving winds outside... They certainly wouldn't be the only ones with a shortage of raw materials to work with. Would he be reprimanded for putting together a little side project just to make a utility for one soldier?

...Well, he didn't have much at stake here, anyway.

"...hm, never mind." He stood, offering the small crowd a warm, pleasant smile. "It's been a while since I've had such interesting company... I'm very much looking forward to working with you all."

Glancing at his belongings again, the mercenary determined he'd had enough of weathering himself in the cold for one day and tugged his jacket along with him as he made his way towards the door.

>Location: Castle Low, Blank Room

Vince entered the empty stone room. His Blank Rod swung from the holster on his hip. "Guess we'll get cracking huh? We've got all day right?" He huffed. "So you're both pyros too? Don't think I had a chance to introduce myself before these last two missions. Name's Vincent Conner, call me Vince."

>Location: Castle Low, Blank Room

Entering behind Vince, a tall figure with a steady gait.

"I am not, strictly speaking, a pyro - though I hide many secrets."

Flicking a hand outwards, the figure's white hair turned a shocking shade of blue, and grew to shoulder length.

"And honestly, I grow tired of hiding. I said before you could call me Seven. I once held a title of the Seventh Sage, so it felt fitting - my chosen name, however, is Severa."

With that said, Severa set her now-cotton-candy-blue hair in a ponytail with a small scrunchy.

"So - I was once a master of Fire Magic. I can no longer cast it, but I retain my knowledge. If you concentrate the pathways of oxygen in to pockets and trails, you can control the path of your firepower."

>Location: Castle Low, Blank Room

"Severa. Noted, okay. Makeover, okay. Right, so here, concentrate... the pathways of oxygen... pockets and trails?" He struggled with the terminology. "Let me try..."

Vince grabbed his rod from his side, "Before working here, I didn't bother with wands or conductors. Thought 'em sorta wussy." He struggled to concentrate, the technique went a little above his head, but there was a tangible wave of energy forming around Vince manifesting as heat distortion.

As he unleashed the energy... it came out as it normally would: recklessly spraying hot purple licks of flame. "That... didn't seem much different. Is that it?"

>Location: Castle Low, Blank Room

Severa sighed, but more at herself than at Vince.

"I did the same, honestly - I preferred barehanded casting. It took me a long time to realize the power that the proper tools can bring. Now, think of it this way - fire behaves like water. When given free reign, it spreads down and out, obeying only gravity."

Reaching forward, Severa placed a hand gently on Vince's Blank Rod.

"Concentrate, and picture the energy flowing from your staff. Right now, it has no pathway - you're pouring water on to the table, and it is flowing freely. I want you to think of it flowing like a river towards your target - where you will release control, allowing it to expand as it sees fit."

>Location: Castle Low, Blank Room

"A river, huh?... Figure I could try reigning it in... Sounds like..." An idea, "Hoh, damn." A grin lit up his face. He wiggled his eyebrows, but his mop mostly covered them.

First the heat distortion swirled around him again, then he reeled his rod back like a tennis racket. He swung his rod overhead and before him, and when he unleashed his flames this time, they lashed out in a single violet tendril spinning violently and unstably. The flame cracked like a whip, bursting at the end, and extinguished like a candle going out.

"Woof! That was... different.  And tough... bein' honest here. Not sure I could do that again." He looked between his instructors. "How'd I do?"

“That was good. I have my own methods, of course, and they usually involve a focus." Bran smiles. "Another thing that could help is the words and gestures you use.” He says. “More forceful words and gestures are likely to more create destructive spells. If you are to control your magic, you need to soften your incantation. Strength of mind and spirit will beat out strength of body and voice. Let me demonstrate.”

Softly, Bran began speaking in a foreign tongue, long-forgotten by most-and then, with a flick of their wrist, conjured up a small ember, and with but a thought, made it disappear.

“I could teach you that language later. I find it helpful in the recitation of magic. But first, practice your tone of voice.”

"Alright, nice pretty embers there. Now for tone of voice, how about: WHAM!" He snapped his rod, but a blast of flames burst forth instead of a whip.

"Wh- geezums... Maybe I deserved that, but honestly? My tone of voice is all my own, bud. I don't get the whole softening thing either. Fire's hot, loud, and destructive by nature, why soften up for something that's'posed to be rough'n'tumble. That might work for water boys and our resident tree-hugger, but me? Uh-uh..."

For a moment, he stood arms crossed, but let them hang loose. He closed his eyes for a minute.

"Sigh... look, sorry for the attitude. What you got going is cool- I appreciate you guys' fancy magics- but it strikes me as too soft. 'scuse my opinion."

"I'm just not one-hundred percent sure I can do the professional mage shtick. My spirit's about as fierce as my fighting style, my mind is full of coals. My body's a furnace, and my voice is hot fire. Figure that just works for me." He scratched his chin.

"...Maybe it does, but at the same time, in order to control fire, you're going to need to learn how to make that passion work for you, rather than control you/" Bran sighed. "It won't be easy. But perhaps something in between is what you're looking for? Learn to use that passion as a scalpel, rather than a hammer." He frowned. "Everyone has their own methods. We can only help you so much... but we'll do the best we can."

"Hang on," He huffed, "This is getting a bit touchy-feely. I need a quick break."

Vince sat on the stone floor. He rubbed his hands together- they sounded like sandpaper. He placed a hand on the floor behind him and leaned back. The other hand formed a ring with his pointer finger and thumb. He drew in a deep breath and blew through the ring. Purple embers blew out and floated up like fireflies until they burned out.

"...Oh hey, this is calm. So what's up with you guys? Where y'from?"

"...I'm a scholar who picked up magic in order to defend themselves while they were exploring." Bran smiled. "Not much else to say-no major life accomplishments or anything like that. I hope to complete a full history of the world, but I have a long way to go. That's why I'm so keen on not causing a lot of destruction-hunderds of years of history down the drain." Bran laughed nervously.

"Ahhh... Got it. " Another ember breath. "Tough bananas, sorry to say. Trust me when I say I won't blow anything up unless I've got the green light, but as soon as that light is lit, I'm gonna light it up."

Slowly, another breath through the fingers, another swarm of twinkling embers.

"That's why I got excited when they said there'd be demolition involved. Felt like my skill set would benefit a cause. Heh, and I'd get paid for it."