- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Anything that actually has, you know, a good plot. I prefer RPs with fantastical elements, however, so generally, a bit of fantasy goes a long way.
It peals constantly, silently.
Ringing out cacophonously.
Reaching the very ends of the small, small world.
Causing waves.
Parting clouds.
Moving earth.
And slowly,
Piece by piece,
It destroys the world.
Destructed ✧ World ✧ Cacophony
It had only been a week since the city-wide party that was officially considered a 'promenade', only a week since students both graduated and enrolled, but energy levels were still remarkably high in the Offshore Academy City of Ringrange. Merely a week's worth of classes and assignments wasn't enough to bring down anyone, after all, and with club activities only beginning the week after, everyone had an excess of leisure time.Ringing out cacophonously.
Reaching the very ends of the small, small world.
Causing waves.
Parting clouds.
Moving earth.
And slowly,
Piece by piece,
It destroys the world.
Destructed ✧ World ✧ Cacophony
Indeed, night had fallen, neon signs have lit, and the city danced beneath the incandescent stars.
< Student District >
Advertisements could be seen everywhere, all complying with dozens of standards that the Student Disciplinary Committee established. None were too large, none were too racy, and none were too fantastical. The most outlandish was the Dark Continent Occult Club's Shop of Curios, but even that was rather tame. Dancing halls were opening up now, Council-approved alcohol flowing down the taps into the hands of young ladies and gentlemen, ready to spend their evenings drinking in the atmosphere. Student alcohol, after all, was weak, enough that inebriation wasn't really possible unless you drank until you were bloated.
Besides all that was pleasurable and all that was indulgent, grocery stores and butcher shops were getting business as well. The first weeks of the semester was always a little chaotic, but what remained important was the need to stock up one's pantry on a regular basis. Rabble-rousers and merry-makers may have dominated the Student District, but there were also those who simply wanted to buy some fresh vegetables and some meat imports from the mainland, before retreating to their suites. And, naturally, the ever constant blue-and-white of Disciplinary Committee members could be spotted in the crowds, making the rounds and teaching new members the ropes.
On an open patio, a Morceban gentleman gazes off into the distance, towards the gentle glow of Roaring Surf Street.
< Roaring Surf Street >
Boutiques and delicacies were abound by the waterways of Roaring Surf Street. The serenades of gondoliers ring sweetly through the air, as fanciful fountains makes clear water dance. A scarlet hot air balloon rises up, carrying two sweethearts and a third wheel into the sky. The lights they see from up above are much warmer, softer, as if mimicking daylight. There was no need for advertisements here. The reputations that each shop held was enough, and even first year students who wandered here did not truly mind. With the gentle sound of water constantly in the background, it was a pleasant place to wander, arm-in-arm with your lover.Occasionally, the clash of tempered steel could be heard, two individuals clashing on the street for honor, their blades rented out to them by the Fencing club. At other times, a band set up beside a plaza, playing music to dance to. There was no need for music boxes here. A sense of elegance and refinement was pursued in Roaring Surf Street, and all were compelled to wear their most fashionable outfit, mimicking the high society of the world outside.
But, regardless of the beauty of these quaint buildings and these blue canals, there were always those that craved a bit of an edge.
< Dropout District >
The clatter of dice, the start of a fight, the smoke of a pipe, all those mixed together into a quagmire of basic pleasures. Addictive, but dangerous, it was thick but sharp, tension that kept the revelers awake, let the harlequin night live on.
Indeed, the night was theirs. A chance to destress, to experience new things, to forge new bonds.
A night that may not be remembered, but a night that will be felt.