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The freshmen were at last rewarded with cheap but nice sandwiches, chips, cookies, and cola at the cafeteria.  The professor was probably supposed to be coming around to them individually, but succumbed to anxiety of her own, and slouched in a corner.  That meant some amount of freedom again to talk to whomever one desired.  Ilmardan was beginning to get the idea of this place.  Some students were from families too poor or too practical to pay for the tuition at fancier schools, some were orienting themselves toward careers that didn’t require a full four year degree, some were taking practical classes to support jobs they had elsewhere or to try branching out into something new.  But most noteworthy, some were here because they were scandalized.  Black sheep, the kids you don’t have high hopes for anymore.  Punks and dropouts.  Ilmardan saw the graffiti, the radical flyers stuck to the walls next to advertisements for concerts and art shows and dubious supplements and school events.  What kind of mess might one get into, in such a place?  What was he going to try to do with his time here, socially or academically, really?  Was this a purgatory or a slacker’s paradise?

If you’re starting to get any new ambitions, have yer guy think about ’em.  If you just want to socialize for other ends – planning the club trip or whatever – get into that.  And if you want to time skip, I’ll add more to this post to facilitate that…

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Already some cool kids were planning to indulge in the city’s night life.  The folly of youth.  Meanwhile, the tour continued into a building full of laboratories, where there was little of interest that they were allowed to see.

Josh came back to Ilmardan and Kaldonia.  “Turns out Humuk is too shy to go to clubs.  Still figuring himself out, I think.”  Kaldonia laughed quietly.

It was hard not to want an escape of some kind, a daydream to distract from the dreary reality around them.  The place looked even less interesting than the average high school – more like an office space of buzzing lights and clicking keys.

They came into another courtyard, this one adjacent to a cafeteria and featuring a heavy mechanized gate which would be used for access by utility vehicles in off hours.  It had a smattering of graffiti and a mostly occluded view of people walking by out on the street.

Ms. Selber sorted the large pack of freshmen into two concentric rings for some awkward ice breaking games.  Everyone had to say their name and answer a specified question to the closest person in the other circle, rotate, introduce themselves and answer a different question for the next.

Kaldonia was with Ilmardan for the question of “What’s your major?”

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this is still open to two more players.  “urban fantasy,” setting is a generic high fantasy world which reached the modern era, at college you can major in accounting or alchemy.

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The orientation guide continued with some basics about the neighborhood – the nearest public park with sporting facilities, directions to the largest public library in town, the hospitals, etc – before getting everybody in motion, following her with trudging little steps around the campus.  The names of the different buildings – after this and that donor or trustee – were a wash of meaninglessness to the non-humans among the freshmen.

As they walked down a long hall, where Ms. Selber mentioned some of the classes being taught, many of the freshmen talked among themselves.  Kaldonia kept on.

“What kind of music do you like, Ilmardan?  I could tell you what clubs play it.”  Why were lizard madonnas so interested in the elvenoid species, he might wonder.  The fashions didn’t hang on their bodies right.  The languages were a little off in that mouth full of uniform, sharp, curved teeth.

Some nearby humans looked judgmental about it, a hip aloofness probably inspired by the social terror of being new.  A male nymph drifted along nearby them, feet barely touching the ground, loose sky-colored curls floating around his shoulders.  He wore a stickball shirt, hipster jeans and shoes, and a little backpack over one shoulder.  There was some room to wonder, did nymphs owe their existence to the wild realms like elves, or the higher realms like giants and dwarves?

An orc jock tried not to step on any people and almost failed when a halfling got underfoot.  That little guy was some kind of raging nerdlinger.

Yup, any kind of weirdo might be in this company.

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How about you?  It’s urban fantasy.  You’re in community college instead of the big leagues, for some reason, but it’s a place where you can start learning how to chuck fireballs or wield a zweihander, so … excitements?

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The last time I tried to do a RP by Comment, I had to shut it down because I only had one player left and it wasn’t my husband, and I didn’t feel like I had the mental resources to devote to other people while my dude was having some particular issue at that time.  Lesson learned – he is not invited this time.  Also, I’m not going to post as rapidly, to save those precious mental resources for my lovin’ dude and other responsibilities.

I’m tempted to do this because it gives me something to write about when I can’t easily think of something else.  In fact, if I’m rolling slowly enough, I can easily do this at the same time as I continue my one-queued-post-per-day thing.  I’ll do my introduction post, we go a round or two of comments, and then tomorrow (assuming I have anyone playing at that time), I do a new post.

Here are the rules:

• Make up your character and introduce them in a comment on this post.
• The first three people to post are the adventuring party; nobody else is admitted unless one of those players taps out.
• You can tap out at any time, and when you do, decide whether your character lives or dies.  I’ll help RP that or either you or I can “write them out the door.”
• If you stop responding without excusing yourself I’ll write your character into a “holding pattern” for three posts, and then if you still are not there, I’ll write them out of the story.
• If you annoy me, your character dies.
• If you really annoy me, you’re also banned and blocked from commenting on my blog.
• Try to abide my two commenting rules in le sidebar: don’t use “stupid,” “crazy,” or their synonyms in comments.  Don’t be a doomer.

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Twas a bright and sunny morning in The City of Romance.  Moss and vines glistened with dew, puffing in every cracked stone and trailing from every untended surface in great green boughs.  The skyscrapers strained mightily into the blue sky, surrounded by more primitive buildings in varying states of decay, by layers of highway freeway tunnel and subway, dotted with parks full of homeless people and deeper crevices still – ruins that fell beneath the notice of the modern, of those focused only on the new and the lofty.

The City of Romance was so named because of its reputation, its storied history, and because the original rulers had named it something unpronounceable in the Elfish tongue.  Now it was just another modern metropolis, inhabited mostly by humans, and ruled by a puppet regent from the neighboring human kingdom, centered in The City of Commerce.

On the highest hill of the city, where once the capitol building stood watch, the neighborhood had been overtaken by college campuses and hip boutique businesses that cater to them, and by further shady characters seeking drugs and other diversions.  You didn’t do well enough in secondary school to go straight to the fanciest of the universities, no.  Your lot in life is enrollment in the Ward Wizard Community College of Arms.

WWCCA is a good place to get a technical education, a quick and dirty primer for a job that needs special skills but not the most sophisticated and prestigious careers going.  Courses in soldiering or constabling, nursing or accounting, video editing or helicopter piloting, etc.  Alternately, you could train in the rudiments of more advanced careers, in preparation to transfer to a more prestigious college.  WWCCA produced no small amount of acolytes and adepts in the magical arts, or disciples of the more mystically oriented martial arts – paladins and great knights, rangers and more.

While the city teemed with humans, the college campuses concentrated diversity.  You might rub elbows there with the elves descended from the city’s original founders, or foreign elves and other international students.  Animal-headed people, ogres, lamias, goblins, leprechauns, dwarves, gnomes, halflings, koneira, crowten, lizard madonnas, sileni, satyrs, nymphs, and more walk those halls.  Of the schools of magic, all are represented to some extent or another in the course catalog: Elemental, Holy, Hexing, Wild, Body, Mind, Death, Binding, Drama, and Alchemy.

You and a few dozen others checked in at an office of plastic chairs and buzzing yellow lights, before being shown to an architecturally dull red brick plaza, wonderfully appointed with flowers and small trees in the planters.  Returning students wander through endlessly, while you freshman mill about, waiting for the person who will conduct your orientation.

Who are you and what did you come to learn?  First three answers below are in.  If only one person bites, fuck it, we ball.  If nobody bites within 24 hours, I guess I will not be game mastering…

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