Mont Chagrin Academy 2: Mascarade (Atlas Only, IC)

[Acronius]

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"IANUIS CLAUSIS • "BEHIND CLOSED DOORS"

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OVERVIEW

Overlooking the largest metropolis in Atlas, and overlooked by the third-tallest mountain in the Free Union, Mont-Chagrin Academy's history is one shrouded in mystery. It is generally agreed that the hallowed school was founded in 1128 - predating even the first iteration of the nation of Acronius, although MCA has since gone through numerous restructures and expansions. Choosing to isolate itself from the rest of the world, the school's surroundings have strangely enough been the host of eighteen major battles in history, from the Aegran-Montfortian Wars to Great War II. It has consistently ranked within the best post-secondary establishments in Acronius since the 19th century, but was inconveniently quarantined from any form of civilization for thousands of kilometers, affecting its attendance. This changed in 1967, when, after two decades of construction, the sprawling streets of a brand new metropolis, Defense, were opened to the public, breaking Mont Chagrin's isolation from the world. Attendance requests, especially foreign, skyrocketed since, and Mont Chagrin Academy became a university of choice for both the aristocratic and those who dreamt big.

The Free Union of Acronius is a highly-developed first-world nation in western Vaaldhaven. Mainly French culturally, albeit with a substantial English minority, French and English are the nation's official languages, and as such, are the languages of instruction at Mont-Chagrin Academy, save for language-specific courses. Acronian Francs are the national currency, with a 1.01 exchange rate to the Universal Standard Dollar. Defense is a sprawling metropolis of 28 million people with an additional 11 million living in the surrounding metropolitan area, making it the largest metropolitan area in Atlas in terms of population. Mont Chagrin is located in the northwest of the city, and is easily accessible from other parts of the city via the Defense Metropolitan Underground Train system (abbreviated to Metro) and its sub-network of Defense Skytrain, the latter of which has a station at Mont Chagrin Academy itself. The main point of entry into Defense for foreigners is Defense Metropolitan International Airport, located in the southeast of the city. The airport and the Academy are connected via the Boundary Line on Defense Skytrain, providing a direct and simple means of transportation to the institution.

Mont Chagrin Academy boasts a complete and extensive campus sprawling over 11 square kilometers of land. It hosts numerous bars, cafés, and restaurants on its grounds, as well as numerous sports facilities including football fields, tennis courts, and a multi-purpose stadium. Students will stay in spacious dorms, which may be shared with up to three fellow students.

PLOT: LA MASCARADE

It is a time of the year many loathe. The Christmas and New Year festivities have come to a close, and with the passing of the holiday spirit, the resumption of reality's tiring mundanities inevitably follows. Such holds true at Mont Chagrin Academy – but a silver lining blesses those within the confines of the exclusive institution: the fast-approaching Mascarade. Intrinsic to the school's identity for centuries, la Mascarade is one of the most exclusive balls in Atlas, reserved only for princes, princesses, scholars and other young socialites of prestigious background enrolled at the Academy. An unique set of rules governs la Mascarade:

• Couples only
• Every couple must have at least one person of significant descent: this is defined as any royal, child of a world leader, or child of a Nobel Prize winner (third rule added in 1906)
• All proposals must be conducted in the presence of the School Headmaster, who will validate the proposal upon acceptance
• If any prospective attendee is courted by more than one suitor, the suitors must compete against each other in a series of three duels: hand-to-hand combat in the martial art chosen by the Headmaster; fencing; and the Mont Chagrin Hunt, whereby the suitors must be first to find their desired partner, who goes into hiding
• Strict dress code: White tie/very elegant/ceremonial dress.

MAP

1. Entrance
2. Mont Chagrin Academy Stadium (Football/Multipurpose)
3. Sports facilities (Tennis, Football, Gym, Swimming Pool)
4. Argyle Sinclair Institute of Political Science
5. Alexandre Thierry School of Business
6. Simon Glengary Institute of Psychology
7. Lysandre Sauvage Institute for Science and Engineering
8. Mont Chagrin Academy Skytrain Station
9. Jean Cadmus Institute of Medical Studies
10. Dorm Alpha
11. Dorm Beta
12. Dorm Gamma
13. Dorm Delta
14. Baseball park
15. Thauvin Lake
16. Chagrin Lake
17. Central Courtyard
18. Artifical Beach, Ballroom
19. Entertainment Zone (Bars, Cafés, Restaurants)
20. David Eustace School of Architecture
21. Lucas Bogden Center of Fine Arts
22. Benjamin Kinstler Film Institute
23. MCA Center for Studies in History
24. Thibaut Brogrose Neuroscience Institute
25. James Mundy School of Law
26. Edgar Sheridan School of Public and International Affairs

RULES

Same as last time, also same as Luey's Adenerov:

• Obey the OP. I promise I will not demand your soul from you
  In all seriousness, a previously-overlooked issue may pop up during sign-ups or the RP, and I may need to address it. Anything I address or prohibit that is not currently listed in the rules will be added immediately.
• Additionally, please check the OOC thread, particularly the OP, on a regular basis. The OP in particular is still a work in progress. Rules may be added or clarified and I am not necessarily able to notify everyone each time I change the OP due to the frequency with which I do it. I may also add more helpful information, and other little goodies, such as the section for the campus map that I put in during this particular edit.
• No OOC fighting. Self-explanatory.
• Avoid super short posts. Though I understand that it's hard not to write a one-liner in a particularly dialogue-heavy scene in the RP, I highly recommend that you try to flesh out your posts, instead of trying to churn out one-liners as fast as possible.
• No sexually explicit posts. It's common for intercourse, promiscuity, stripping, or whatever else to happen in most colleges; this college is not likely to be an exception, and I won't shy away from that fact. However, I will not allow posting about sex. It may be implied or hinted at, but the scenes/'sessions' may never be directly RPed.
• Yes, you may have multiple characters. Four characters max. However, I will not allow characters being RPed by the same person to room together, and I ask that those who RP multiple characters keep their characters' interactions among themselves to a minimum.
• Expulsion is a thing. I have no issue OOCly with people doing stuff that would warrant disciplinary action by the school, but keep in mind that actions still have consequences: if I have you expelled (as I will also be RPing non-instructor school staff if need be), then you may not post in the thread anymore as that character. You may, however, still RP any other characters you have. If you only have one character, you are allowed to sign up another after the first is expelled, provided the character is differentiated enough.
• Lastly, and most importantly, remember the Triumvirate. Their jimmies are eternal. None can rustle the Triumvirate.

[Tenburg]

Dorm Alpha

"Yea, we're just finishing moving in," Padraig said quietly, staring down at his brown wingtips as he surreptitiously finished putting away clothes with his free hand.

"Mont Chagrin's not a bad place, Paddy. Good school, smart people, just don't get drunk at the wrong place."

"Yea... anybody you know here I can trust?"

"Aye, there's a girl there. Grace O'Cain, she's from Coolrain. Went to the Mascarade with her last year."

"Ah, so she was the witness to your brawl?"

Killian chuckled. "Aye, she was. Sweet girl. Pulled me off the dumb bastard before i really hurt him."

"Good of you to win the title for them before you left." Padraig replied, then paused as he sat on his bed. "How's home?"

"Home's... quiet," Killian replied. There was a bit of static before he continued. "A few pot-shots here and there but I haven't heard anything--"

Padraig could hear shouting in the background behind his friend.

"Speak of the devil, they've started their shite again. I have to go, Paddy. Enjoy yourself."

"Be careful, Killian."

"I will." The call ended there.

Padraig sighed, then tossed his phone on the desk before flopping back on his bed. His mind rushed endlessly, as it had since his father's death. At least now he couldn't hear gunshots in the distance, although admittedly the occasional burst of a noise made him jump. He knew his bodyguard would have reprimanded him for even talking to his friend--"Every time you pick up that phone is a security risk!"--but it didn't matter to him at this point. If the Free Republic was that hell-bent on finding him, they would have by now. He had never been so isolated.

So alone.

But he couldn't think like that. He sat up, took a deep breath, and then stood up, going over to his desk and pulling out a notepad and pen, and writing down the name Killian mentioned: Grace O'Cain. It would be nice if he had a friend circle he didn't have to contact through a secured burner phone. It was a start.

Beyond her, he was on his own.

[Acronius]

Fierce rains and howling winds bore down on the northwestern corner of Valdiu. The cities of Reach and Deca were smothered by a furious white flurry, and despite essential city traffic moving through the inundated streets in earnest, little else happened. The twin cities, the largest in the country, were entirely stopped.

“I’m sorry!” Garth shouted over the din. He struggled to stay upright before the readerboard with every bump and budge from the crowd around him. “Look, I know La Masquerade is coming up, but this is the biggest snowstorm in Valdian history. Nothing's going in or out.”

The familiar voice on the line cursed at him, switching flawlessly between perfect French and accented English. “No, all the highways and bridges to Barrister and Levno are closed. And none of the major airlines fly out of Delaney. I'd have to buy a new ticket out of Prevale.”

More cursing. He sighed. “No, I'm sure! I asked at the check-in desk. AACR416 VRDC-ADMA. Cancelled. Everything's cancelled.” It was true - the familiar polite blue rows had been replaced by stark red across the board, with each red line symbolizing a cancelled flight. “Look, here! Reach to Prevale, cancelled. Reach to Madrigal, cancelled. Reach to fucking Barrister, cancelled.”

The young man nearly lost his balance after a particularly hard shove from a portly gentleman behind him. “Whoa! Watch it, dickwad!” he exclaimed angrily, though the man already out of earshot. The phone speaker blew up, enraged. “No, not you, some guy behind- God. Look. You know I want to do this as much as you. You know I-”

An announcement came over the airport PA. “Attention all Reach-Deca International Airport travelers,” said a cool, possibly robotic male voice. “Due to inclement weather conditions, the Reach-Deca Metropolitan Transportation System will be temporarily ceasing operations in two hours for safety purposes. We apologize for the inconvenience.” The Valdian boy swore under his breath. “Fuck. Just what I fucking need.”

He sighed, more angrily this time. “Look, Axelle, I have to go. They're shutting down the METS soon and if I'm not out of this airport I'll be stuck here for hours.”
The girl on the other end responded with an indignant hmph.

“I'm sorry. I'll call you later.” He was silent for a moment. “I love you,” he said. And he meant it, despite the distance between them.

There was no reply. The line went dead.

“Fuck.” He turned towards the metro tunnels and walked away.

___

Axelle was seething. The veins in her forehead angrily bulged as her knuckles turned a whiter shade of pale from clenching her phone. Red from rage, she raised her hand and slammed the device into her bed, unleashing a dizzying flurry of French profanity as she marched off to the balcony to cool off. Three years now they had been together, ever since they had met in Kwadai as participants in the IESP program. Three years now the relentless onslaught of "you're too good for him"s and "why are you with him"s from every direction had raged on. Three years now she's had to dismiss the comments and defend him. "Oh, but you don't know him like I do," she protests. "There's more to him than meets the eye."

And now he pulls this shit? Rescheduling his flight back to Defense and missing it? Over Comic fucking Con? None of that. What the fuck am I doing with him anyway?, she thought to herself. After all, she had looks, brains, money, and was literally aristocratic, and letting the guy live in her upscale apartment. And what was he? A 5/10 average Joe without any real sense of direction of life at best? This was the final straw. She got up and went back inside, sliding shut the balcony door behind her. Retrieving her phone, still hot from her outburst, she accessed La Mascarade's social media page, tapping on the "Participants" tab. I'm going with someone else, she confidently declared to herself. Typing her name into the page, she submitted herself into the participant pool for the ball.

[Gorbatov]

Entertainment Zone
Pyotr was at one of the many bars of the academy. The occasion was for the live viewing of one biggest football games in Atlas, the Gorbatovic Eternal Derby, CSKA Valožyn vs. Dynamo Valožyn. To this fact, this is one of the few occurrences where the Gorbatovic student body comes together in one location. In accordance, Pyotr mostly kept to himself in such occasions, being that of his royal heritage; though there have been several cases where he has been heavily scrutinized by the more patriotic students, which was enough to warrant a greater security detail.

Pyotr sat in a booth in the bar, joined by some of the few Gorbatovics that he managed to make friends with, and were closely watching the screen. “Hmm...if CSKA loses, it would give Dynamo an ample position in going on top of the league.” said Aleksandr “Aleks” Petrenko, son of a notable White Gorbatovic emigre, and was one of Pyotr’s closest friends.

"They better not, let's hope they don't repeat to what had happened in 20-" Pyotr was then interrupted by an absolute stunner from the thirty-yards by Dynamo, giving them lead in the 67th minute, with the score being 1-0.

"Fuck!" exclaimed Pyotr, as he slammed his empty beer glass against the table, with the sound of other CSKA fans being evidently heard throughout the bar.

"Damn...we can still salvage this we still have 27 minutes," said Stanislav Martynov, another friend of Pyotr, and was also a son of a Gorbatovic emigre.

After five minutes, CSKA was able to equalize, thanks to a corner kick that had enabled one of CSKA's defenders to score a beautiful header. Pyotr seemed anxious, as he quickly finished another glass of beer. "So Pyotr, have you got a date for the upcoming Mascarade yet?" inquired Aleks.

"Uh...Not yet, still looking, to be honest," said Pyotr, as he poured himself another glass of beer.

"Well hurry up then, it's coming up soon. Stanislav and I already got our dates, you're the only one left in our group that doesn't have a date right now."

"I will...Don't worry, I won't miss the Mascarade this time."

"So...Is their any girls you looking at right now for the Mascarade?" inquired Stanislav, as the football game neared the 80th minute.

"Hmm...Well, there is this Acronian chick in my political science class, but I heard she is still in a relationship with some Valdian dude."

"Wait...You're talking about this chick?" said Stanislav, as he showed a picture of a girl from his phone.

"Yea...what's her name anyway?"

"Her name is Axelle Rossignol-Sarkozy, and according to some rumours, she is not going with her boyfriend. You should totally slide in there," said Stanislav in a suggestive tone.

"I suppose so," said Pyotr, as he wondered upon such fact.

The match is almost at its end, as there are only two minutes of stoppage time left for CSKA to salvage a win out of the match. "Fuck...even if we draw, Dynamo still has a position to overtake us," stressed Pyotr.

As Pyotr was about to pour himself another drink, in the very last minute, a last-ditch goal kick from CSKA had enabled their striker to intercept the ball and had managed to outpace Dynamo's defenders. Many in the bar began to buildup hype to the possible game-winning goal. It was a one-on-one situation, as the striker neared Dynamo's penalty area, their goalkeeper began to posture for a save.

But such posturing was to no avail, as CSKA's striker had managed to fake the goalkeeper out into going the wrong way, as he shot the ball into the left corner of the net. "Fuck yes!", exclaimed Pyotr, as the sound of celebration is heard throughout the bar.

[New Elesar]

Dorm Gamma

Artem was tired. For the last three hours he had been unpacking his things, making sure he hadn't lost anything on the long flight over. Only now had he been able to finally lay down and get some rest. Back in Elesar, at one of his family's many estates, he would have simply had the servants handle the busywork; after all, the heir to one of the largest, richest aristocratic families in the Empire would usually be beyond that kind of thing. But this wasn't Elesar, and this wasn't a family estate. Here in Acronius, the Romanov name meant very little to the vast majority of people; the few people it did mean something to probably didn't want anything to do with it.

But that was of no concern to Artem. He was here to learn, to ensure the success of the family business long after the inevitable death of his father. While that time was certainly a long way off, it was better to learn now and be prepared as opposed to learn later and still be green when the time for change was imminent. Artem's phone began to buzz on the bedside table where he had left it. Looking over, the caller ID simply read "Dad." He picked up the phone, and before Artem could speak his father began to talk.

"Hello Artem. I trust that by now you have been able to settle yourself in. Am I correct?"

Artem smiled. His father, if rather blunt, was still just that; his father.

"I have, Father. I feel as if I have a greater amount of sympathy towards our hired help, having now done their jobs for them from so many miles away. Is all well?"

"It is, Artem. Your mother and sisters have asked about you, and I am glad that I can tell them you are well. Please, make the best of your time in Acronius."

"You know I will, Father. Talk to you again soon?"

"Of course. Have a good time."

The call ended, but Artem didn't put his phone down. Instead, he began to browse the Academy's masquerade page.

"Might as well get started on this, I guess."

[Tenburg]

Dorm Alpha

Grace grinned as she raised her wine glass. "To our friend in common."

Padraig clinked her glass with his. "To our friend in common." They sipped their glasses. "So... what's the story with this Mascarade?"

"Oh it's a big prestigious ball, Paddy. White tie, top level stuff. There's all sort of rules as to who you can bring and how you propose to them and all that. Big deal."

Wonderful.

"Hm. So how did Killian propose?"

Grace chuckled. "The dumb bastard. What a ham. It was at a home hockey game and he grabbed the puck and fired it all the way across the ice and into an empty net, and then he skated over to me..." she began chuckling.

"Oh God," Padraig said with a smirk.

".. he just skates over to me and lifts up his jersey and underneath his pads, his shirt just said, Mascarade? Oh my goodness, Paddy I almost died laughing. And then I said yes, obviously and his whole team dogpiled him from behind."

This made Padraig laugh. Like, genuinely laugh. It made him miss the camaraderie of sports. "I don't know if I could beat that. You don't mind if I kinda lean on you for some of this, do you?"

"Oh no, certainly not. Did you find the media page?"

"Yea." He scrolled around on his phone for a moment. "Right, Participant Pool." He couldn't help but chuckle as he punched his name in. "A bit odd."

"High-profile is putting it mildly," Grace replied as she sipped her win again. "You'll have fun."

Thinking about it briefly, he agreed. "I think I will."

[New Elesar]

Courtyard, Lucas Bogden Center of Fine Arts

Olesya loved to take photographs in the winter. Sure, the springtime had its flowers, and the fall had its symphonies of reds and oranges and browns, and some had even said to her that winter was boring, plain, just black and white. But that was a very Elesarian way of thinking. There, winter was just another season; harsh, ever returning, always seeming to get worse and worse with every passing year. Winter was something to be prepared for, to be wary of, and certainly not something to be enjoyed unless you were just a child.

Olesya, however, could not care less for the words of the old babushkas, rambling on about how their poor old father had been taken by a storm oh so long ago. "No," Olesya thought, "Winter is a canvas, just waiting to be painted upon by those willing to acknowledge it." Because where others saw just white and black, Olesya saw a piece of art in the making, and while she had never been much of a painter, her love for photography and all things thereof allowed her to express that feeling, that joy of knowing that when winter came, so would her very own canvas. Indeed, it had been her photographs of the Elesarian winterscape that had gotten her a scholarship to Mont Chagrin three years ago.

Three years. it had been three years since she had left the Empire for a school that in any other set of circumstances, she'd have never been able to afford. It was a relief, honestly; sure, she loved her homeland, but here there was so much more freedom. At home, there was supervision, the constant, unspoken truth that if you pushed your luck with what you said, the Okhrana would know. Now, Olesya was away from all of that, and she had been making the best of her time. For the past three years she had avoided the masquerade like the plague, fully committing herself towards her studies. Her social life, already nearly nonexistent from being a foreigner, was essentially a void at this point. Sure, she knew people, but none well enough to truly consider them friends; sure, she knew the local language, but what good was that when the schoolwork involved little to no writing and minimal interaction with the professors?

This time around, things were going to be a little different. This time, Olesya was going to put herself out there. She had already signed up for the Masquerade.

She took the shot looking through the rangefinder. It wasn't perfect, but did it really need to be?

[Granzery]

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Mont Chagrin Academy, Entrance

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Attila had just arrived at the Academy, ready to start his first year of foreign politics study, walking through the lavish front foyer, carrying a modest luggage bag about six kilograms, he tried to travel light, he wasn't exactly lacking money so he figured if he needed anything in the near future it would be a simple matter to purchase it. Scanning the entrance as he walked through, he saw plenty of people, many were newcomers like him, although most of those were somewhat younger than him, he found his eyes meeting a pretty girl of about twenty years old, she smiled and looked away and he had a slight chuckle to himself.

"Testvér!" somebody shouted in Granzerian behind him, turning around he saw his sister running up to him, a beaming smile on her face. "It's so good to see you! I've been looking forward to your arrival all week, it's been really boring around here with classes done for the year, how's the family? I heard there's some big news coming out of Veraglia." she said in Granzerian. "I wish I could've made it back for time to join you guys in going to the Palace, I really wish I could've but I got held up here finishing my enrolments and so on for next year."

It was alot to take in, Rozsa had a capacity to get carried away when she was excited, and Attila didn't know what to respond with to start with, "Good to see you too, sis," he said.

"God, I hope Dad isn't too upset that I couldn't make it back, I promised him I'd be back for a month or more when the semester ends," she said, a slight frown starting to show on her face.

"Well, he wasn't all that happy, I won't lie to you, but I'm sure he will barely remember in a few weeks, he's had alot on his plate, as I'm sure you could imagine he's been sort of caught up in alot more media appearances, state visits and I shouldn't tell you this, but he had an important meeting with Arpad yesterday before my flight, he couldn't even see me off," Attila said.

"Yeah... Ever since I've officially been a--" she paused for a moment, "-A Princess," she said with a smirk, "People have been treating me differently, and I swear there is this Granzerian dude following me around, I'd be surprised if he wasn't KG-I checking up on me."

"Point him out for me and I'll order him back to Veraglia on royal decree," Attila said, pumping out his chest.

Rozsa laughed, "Come on, I'll show you around."

They left the foyer towards the School of Law, and towards the Central Courtyard, "This is James Mundy, where all the Lawyers study, I guess," she said.

As they walked through towards the Courtyard, Attila pulled an advertisement off one of the lightposts flanking the road. "La Mascarade...", he said. "What's this?" he asked.

"La Mascarade is a prestigious ball, all royalty or big wigs of other types, needless to say we are both invited," Rozsa said.

"Couples Only," he read aloud in English, albeit heavily accented. "Do you have a date, sis?" he asked, in Granzerian again.

Rozsa blushed, well, rose red. "Uh, no I don't," she said, looking at her feet.

"Well that makes it easier for me to make sure you're going with the right guy for you, is there a bar or something where we could eat and have a drink? I'm famished," he asked.

"Sure, let's go to the Entertainment Zone, I'll show you the Political Science Institute on the way," she said, gesturing to the left, extending her arm.

Walking through the snow in his thick winter jacket, he looked at a group of Acronian girls to his left, he said loudly in heavily accented french, "I'm going to have fun finding a date myself, Rózs!"

"I'm sure you will, Atty," she said.

[Brytene]

Dorm Gamma

---

Finnlaith strolled into the dorm lugging one suitcase and a duffel bag. He had insisted on being given a shared dorm, not wanting to be left out of the loop. Growing up at the Cadalcholg estate, he had always had his parents and little sisters to speak to, and the farmhands and other workers were usually good for a chat, but it had been a contemplative and isolated upbringing overall. Clad in dark blue jeans, a thick emerald green sweater over a white polo shirt and a heavy navy blue wax jacket, he had short black wavy hair and the same bright blue eyes as his aunt. He was broad at the shoulders, with a wide chin and flat nose. He had the strong limbs of someone who had grown up on a farm and the slight belly of someone who appreciated good homestead cooking.

He glanced at the bedrooms leading off the common area, and then dumped his bags in one with a window looking out over the fields to the south.

"Anyone home?" he called in his rich Dyfliner brogue, strolling back into the common area.

Entertainment Zone, Wine Bar

---

Anneke Goldwing sank into the deep burgundy velvet armchair and took a sip of the wine she had ordered, a fine Acronian red with a medium body and hints of raspberry. She had already been to her room in Dorm Alpha, but her roommate had not yet arrived. It was some girl from the Castarcian States, a Duchess if rumour were true, so without a companion she had simply wandered the riverfront until she found the entertainment district and ducked into the first wine bar she could find.

She was nouveau-riche, her parents "only" upper-middle-class, as her father was the chief of physio for the Hamtun Hammers baseball team. She had been accepted to MCA on merit alone, her stellar grades securing her a spot. She was of medium height, with thick blonde hair and a reserved manner, and she was using her phone to browse aimlessly between sips of wine, reading an article on the recent failure to grow crops on the Moon.

[Allied Connurist States]

Alexia sat at a bar in the entertainment zone nursing a glass of wine. She wasn't completely sure how she'd ended up in here, it had been more of a whimsical decision she'd made having noticed both her period of free time and her proximity to the bar in the first place. The young Duchess couldn't quite think entirely straight and hoped some nice rosé would fix the little issue. She was thinking about La Mascarade of course, and mainly her frustration with the whole system of it. By that, of course, she meant the whole awkwardness and weirdness of having to sign up for it and register yourself for it all. It was kind of artificial, she thought, as if someone had decided that there was something wrong with people actually asking each other in person if they wanted to go, without the necessary pre-requisite of virtually announcing to everyone that you were on the market for it? Alexia hoped it wouldn't bring on a tide of people whose ulterior motive for chasing her would be just because she qualified as someone of significant descent. Maybe she was being too cynical or self-important about it, but that was why she was on the wine in the first place, to encourage her to actually sign up for it in the first place.

Alexia didn't need alcohol to influence her decision of whether she wanted to go, she already knew that she did - kind of. It would probably be good fun if she could go with the right person - whoever that might be - but otherwise it wouldn't be the end of world if she didn't bother with it, it was a take it or leave it situation really. What she needed - no, wanted (need was a strong word) - was a little encouragement to look up and down the list and see who she noticed on it before she put herself up on it. She could look at all the other significant people she might be able to meet. It might be good to make some social connections amongst 'her class' of people if she had the opportunity, but the main thing she hoped would be actual fun. Not to mention she had a dress fit for the occasion. It was with that hope and those thoughts she finally decided to pull the trigger on the sign up, planning to finish her drink at her own pace whilst looking at things on her phone before she moved some stuff in to her place.

[Gorbatov]

Argyle Sinclair Institute of Political Science
Pyotr and Stanislav walked toward their political science class' lecture hall. "So Pyotr wanna go bar-hopping this weekend with us?" inquired Stanislav.

"Hmm...Maybe, why?" asked Pyotr as they continued walking down the hall.

"Well I made a 1,000 franc bet with this Dynamo fan, and we gotta spend the money somehow."

"Heh...You sure we'd be able to spend that much?"

"Knowing Aleks...probably," Stanislav snickered

As Pyotr snickered at Stanislav's joke, he managed to catch a glance of a group of girls entering the lecture hall. "Shit...Isn't that Axelle," Stanislav muttered.

"Yea...still haven't asked her about the Mascarade yet though," Pyotr muttered as his eyes met with Axelle's, just before she went into the lecture hall.

"Uh...let's get to class," muttered Stanislav

"Hmm? Yea...Let's go before the professor heckles us again for being late."

Pyotr entered the lecture hall and saw it was somewhat full already. "Mr. Voronstov, may you please take your seat, the lecture is about to start," said the professor.

As Stanislav and Pyotr sat at the second last row to the back, Pyotr took out his phone and checked the Mascarade's social page. "So when are you gonna ask her?" inquired Stanislav, as he peered at Pyotr's laptop.

"Hmm...I don't know," said Pyotr, as he scrolled through the social page.

Seeing Pyotr's evident hesitance, Stanislav suddenly grabbed Pyot's phone and prepared to send Axelle a direct message. "What the fuck bro?!" angrily muttered Pyotr.

"Come on dude, you gotta slide in there before some other dude takes her," said Stanislav, as he typed a message to Axelle.

"Fuck sakes dude...Don't mess around," said Pyotr, as he attempted to get his laptop back.

"And send," snickered Stanislav

"For fuck sakes" sighed Pyotr, as he forcefully takes back his phone.

Pyotr scrolled to the message sent to Axelle.
Hey uh...Awkward question, but do you have someone to go to the Mascarade yet?

"Fuck...you owe me so many drinks, dude," said Pyotr, as Stanislav continued to snicker.

[Granzery]

---

Mont Chagrin Academy, Entertainment Zone

---

"You should practice your french, brother, It's the only language alot of people here will share with you, unless they speak English or Russian," Rozsa said in French. So far Attila had been conversing with her in Granzerian, trying to avoid using his limited and hilariously thick-accented french.

"Fine, I try to speak more french with you," he said in French. "I don't know why I can't just speak English, I bet most people here speak it pretty well," he fired off in Granzerian. He was fluent in Russian, English and Granzerian, but had an only limited understanding of the languages he had begun learning more recently, French and German. With his desire to be a diplomat or ambassador for Granzery, he found the more languages he pursued the better. "I will try to find someone speaking English, can you buy me a hit of Pálinka, I can give you the money if you like," he said.

"They aren't going to serve bloody Pálinka, Atty, I'll get you a beer," Rozsa said, rolling her eyes. Attila shrugged and nodded, "Neither of us are strapped for cash so don't worry about it, just buy me a round later," she said. Attila turned away and scanned the bar. There weren't all that many people there, surprisingly. His eyes rested upon a girl near to him, sipping on a glass of wine and flipping through her phone, she was fairly pretty, but looked a bit uptight for his usual tastes, he cleared the thoughts from his head 'I can have a friendly chat with a girl without trying to take her to bed,' he thought to himself.

"Hello, my name is Attila, do you speak English, I'm afraid my French is not very good," he said, in slightly broken french.

[Socialist Mercanda]

Dorm Gamma

---

Kannitha Vang looked down at the mess on her floor. She had spent the last hour trying to neatly unpack - before she eventually became so exasperated she emptied the remaining contents of her bags onto the ground. She thought the beginning of her studies at the academy couldn't get any worse. She hadn't slept in nearly two days. Her 12-hour flight from Rayong had been delayed by six hours. One of her suitcases was lost, and knowing the standard of customer service at Surin Airlines, it was likely to never be recovered again. And then, as soon as she touched down, she experienced the reality of the Acronian winter. The novelty of seeing snow for the first time didn't stick to Kannitha, and all she wanted to do now was be at home at the family compound in Sekong.

On top of her bed was her laptop, streaming a Surinese news channel. The huge demonstrations in her home province, Thakhek, was the major story - violence between Khmer separatists and police had broken out a few days ago, sparked by the shooting of a Khmer separatist in his home as police suspected he was holding illegal arms. The eleven-year long peace in the province was on the verge of being broken, a peace her father had worked so tirelessly for. The daughter of Surinland's vice-president, she was often talked about in the media as being one of the country's future leaders. But she didn't think so. It was a country that was being held together by a fragile peace - the Khmer separatists were again beginning to cause trouble in Thakhek, while an uneasy tension was beginning to build in the northeastern provinces between police and the Bamar community, who claimed they were victims of racial profiling and abuse at the hands of police. President Keyuraphan and her father were the duo that secured the nation's peace a decade earlier, and were desperately trying to keep it.

...

After she finished unpacking, Kannitha thought it best for her to get a drink. She needn't hang around this small, crammed dorm room anymore - and so set out.

---

Entertainment Zone

---

Kannitha arrived into the first bar she saw in the Entertainment Zone. The whole layout of the academy was quite baffling to her, as university campuses back home were largely quite old and situated in the heart of urban areas, leftover from the Acronian days of Surinland. She had also began to think of La Mascarade, a subject that almost always came up when she told people she was to attend Mont Chagrin. She wondered if she would find someone to go with - she wasn't sure she even qualified as a person of 'significant descent'. Both her parents started out their lives as peasants, so she had no trace of nobility in her. Her father was the Vice-President of Surinland, so that would probably qualify her, but politics is volatile. Tomorrow that could change, who knows?

She put it to the back of her mind, and ordered a glass of the bar's most expensive glass of red wine. She looked around, desperate for some form of human contact, as it was nighttime back home, and the last real conversation she had was at the SAL desk at the airport, with another passenger who had lost their baggage from the Rayong flight. An elderly woman, who was visiting family who had left Surinland for Acronius in search of work during the days of the junta. Kannitha sighed, and sipped her wine.

[New Elesar]

Dorm Gamma Common Room

Artem was still getting used to the idea of having to actively share a room with someone else. He'd heard his roommate-to-be was Brytisc, which wasn't going to be an issue; he had spoken English fairly fluently from the time he was twelve. Instead, what Artem worried about was the potential cultural differences. Elesar and Brytene had had their differences throughout the years, at one point even going so far as to have the Emperor of Elesar himself claim that the gods of the Brytisc Adfyr faith needed to try harder to kill Aoife Brighteye, a notable Brytisc politician.

"Still," Artem thought, as he settled into one of the chairs in the commons, "It can't be all that bad. Surely he won't be some loudmouthed imbecile."

It was then that he heard the yelling. "Anyone home?" Great. Just great. Artem turned to find the source, and saw a man whose age was...questionable. He'd heard of older students, sure, but this was pushing it. The man doing the yelling looked to be in his 50's, but something was off. Were looks really able to be this deceiving?

He stood up from his seat, hoping to God that this old-young man wasn't his roommate. He raised a hand slightly in greeting.

"As a matter of fact, someone is. I am Artem Romanov. You are?"

---

Entertainment Zone

Olesya loved this cafe. It was a bit of a hole in the wall kind of place, sure, but that suited her. She'd wandered into it while taking photos Freshman year, and had been coming back ever since. Today was another one of those routine visits made, as usual, after taking pictures. She ordered her usual black tea and took a seat near the back of the room, setting up her laptop and logging in to the school's website. Her professor, a stuffy old Acronian with a limp and a lisp, had ordered for several assignments to be submitted online. Earlier in the semester, Olesya had hoped that he would accept some form of polaroid, but after asking him she had received little more than a disinterested grunt.

She finished typing up a report, making sure to submit it to the correct folder; several times before, she had accidentally sent work to the wrong classes. Sipping her tea, Olesya began to look at the La Mascarade page. "No hits. Not such a big deal, I suppose. I'll get there eventually."

[Allied Connurist States]

Entertainment Zone

Alexia was momentarily startled as she was brought out of the engrossing trance of looking at the screen of her phone, looking up to find the youngest son of the Granzerian royal family making an admirable effort at speaking French to her - it was at least more than enough for her to know what he meant. She knew that only because it hadn't been all that long ago at all that the Granzerian state had even invited them back to the palace and she had certainly been intrigued by the development there. Alexia liked keeping up with the news and also learning about history so she had been quick to remember the distinctive faces of who was who at the moment. Either that or he was a lookalike. For all she knew, every man in Granzery looked like that - masculine, short haired, with varying degrees of facial hair. She could only wonder what he might want, unless it was genuinely simple as trying to find someone who spoke English as well that he could hold a conversation with. Alexia, being of both Castarcian and Acronian descent, knew she was lucky to have been raised in a household where she had learnt both. She imagined it must have been harder to pick up the language here if it wasn't something you had picked up earlier in one's childhood - even in Castarcia french was the second language taught in schools, though mainly due to the proximity of the ACS and Acronius as well as their shared history and alliances. She knew it wasn't the same everywhere around the world.

"Yes, I speak English." she said in well spoken French. "Alexia." she added, extending her hand to him.

[Brytene]

Dorm Gamma Common Room

---

Finnlaith grinned and waved back, crossing to the fridge and dumping a four-pack of bottles into it. As he stepped into the light in the centre of the room it became apparent he was in fact in his twenties, though shadow did do a wonderful job of giving a glimpse into his grizzled, jolie laide future.

"A pleasure. I'm Finnlaith Lodbrok, of Dyflin," he said with a smile, removing two bottles from their cardboard case. Romanov was obviously an Elesarian, from his faint accent to his charming Euroslavic face, but he figured even a foreigner wouldn't turn down a good drink. It was Dyfliner cider, which unlike Wesseax and Susseax ciders was light, medium sweet with a nice apple tang to it. It wasn't your standard export stuff, but delicious stuff produced at a large orchard a few miles south of the Cadalcholg estate. The owners were on good terms with the Lodbroks, and there had been vague hopes of puppy love between Finnlaith and one of the girls from the Golden Fleece orchard, but it had died when she had been discovered with a local girl in flagrante in the cider press. He proferred one to Artem.

[Granzery]

---

Mont Chagrin Academy, Entertainment Zone

---

"Yes, I speak English." the girl said. She then told Attila her name and, extended her hand to him.

Attila extended his own hand and shook hers, "Attila Horthy de Nagybánya, pleased to meat you, Alexia," he said. Attila cocked his head to the side slightly and squinted, now that he looked closer she was familiar, and the name was certainly something which she recognised. Of course she clearly wasn't Granzerian so it wasn't likely to be one of his past girlfriends thankfully. "Say, have we met before? You look awfully familiar," he asked, sitting down opposite Alexia.

He glanced back at the bar and saw Rozsa speaking to the bartender, before she was handed a pair of drinks, "That is my sister, Rozsa, you may have met at the Academy before."

Rozsa turned around and started walking back to Attila and Alexia, carrying a schooner of beer for Attila and a cocktail for herself.

[Allied Connurist States]

Alexia's eyes narrowed in thought as she searched for any memory of Attila or his sister. She was pretty sure she hadn't met him before and whilst she vaguely knew of Rozsa, she didn't 'know' her. She recognised the face but had not really crossed paths with her. As for Attila and wondering if he recognised her or not, maybe he had seen her face before somewhere on the internet or wherever, you could search for her name or title and find several results. Alexia could only guess why she seemed familiar to him.

"I don't think I've met either of you before. I feel like I would remember, wouldn't forget your faces." she said. "Anyway, it is a pleasure to meet the both of you."

She smiled at Rozsa as she walked towards them, looking forward to another introduction.

[Granzery]

---

Mont Chagrin Academy, Entertainment Zone

---

As Alexia said they had never met Attila's eyes narrowed. "Must have seen you at some kind of formal dinner or something at some point in the past, doesn't matter."

"I'm afraid I don't speak English, I take it you speak french?" Rozsa said in French, passing a beer to Attila, who gratefully grabbed it and twisted the top off, taking a couple of sips, "I'm Rozsa Horthy de Nagybanya,"

"Well this might get sort of awkward if we are speaking in three languages," Attila said jokingly in Granzerian, elbowing his sister softly in the side. "This is Alexia of Castarcia," Attila then said in slightly broken french. "I can try talk French if you want, I am... conversational... but I only start learning about four months ago." He looked at the label of the beer he was drinking, Adlerbrau, Chazicarian Ale. "Beer is good," he paused for another moment, making eye contact with Alexia again, "So tell me what you study, Alexia,"

[New Elesar]

Dorm Gamma Common Room

Artem gladly accepted the cider from Finnlaith and took a small sip. He had never been one to turn down a free drink, and this time would be no exception. Finnlaith seemed like a good enough sort, and this was confirmed by his choice in alcohol; the cider Artem had been handed was unlike anything he had had before, and while it wasn't the strongest thing ever, that lack of strength was more than made up for by the abundance of flavor.

Finnlaith, apparently, wasn't as old as he seemed. "Maybe it was the light," Artem wondered, still unsure.

"Dyflin, you say? And a Lodbrok at that. Quite the bloodline that is. Are you related to...um..."

Artem paused briefly. "Brighteye, sure...but how the *hell* do you say Aoife? Oyff? Eef?"

"...Ms. Brighteye, by any chance?"

[Tenburg]

Entertainment Zone

Grace sat in a corner of the wine bar, a glass of pinot noir in her hand as she scrolled through her social media feed. Her family, thankfully, were safe from the violence in the southeast, although their holiday cottage near Crosskeys was in Jeopardy. She looked at the video clips of gunfights, riots, army trucks... she suddenly felt a need to be back home. She sighed, switching instead to a different feed, something where she hopefully could be distracted. She could only imagine how poor Paddy felt.


Padraig had snagged himself a beer and was strolling casually around the Entertainment Zone, not looking for anything or anyone in particular. He admired the neon lights and signs of the establishments he passed. He was beginning to like this place. It seemed there was always something going on, and students were always rushing about, pretty much at any time of day. He found a seat outside of a small cafe, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and sat there in silence, people-watching. It was something he inherited from his father, who would sit on the balcony at their home in Tallow for hours and simply watch the people below. He thought it would help him grasp what they were feeling, perhaps in their general mood or through their conversation. He had always felt it helped him relate to them better. Padraig didn't know about all that, but he picked up the habit anyway.

[Brytene]

Dorm Gamma, Common Room

Finnlaith smiled and took a swig. "Aye, Aoife's my da's sister. He got dad's estate and she got dad's reckless nature, so he turned a profit on the cheese side of things and she...well, wanders around picking fights."

He shrugged. "I figure there's more to life than cheese though. I'm wanting to become an archaeologist, hence my being here. I reckon I can find Pelegiad's resting place, not to set myself too grand an ambition. Anyway, what about yourself?"

[Allied Connurist States]

Alexia nodded as Rozsa changed the conversation back to French. Though as soon as it had transitioned to that from English, it had presumably moved on again to their native tongue, if only fleetingly before a welcome return to the language of the local land. She clinked her glass of wine with Attila's beer and Rozsa's cocktail as they had finally all been introduced and had the opportunity to take a seat comfortably. For the love of God, she hoped the following conversation would have some natural flow to it, and she had been in her fair share of awkward conversations that had been limited to one language, let alone two or three. The next five minutes or so would determine how quickly she would be back to the bar for a refill... because adding extra intoxication was a stellar idea for speaking clearly in your second language and keeping up with it if they decided to change it yet again, though it did seem that they would stick to French, for the foreseeable future anyway.

Alexia smiled encouragingly at Attila as he made eye contact with her and explained that he was a relative newcomer to French. They at least had English in common if they were to reach a misunderstanding, though with that in mind, she would make an effort to speak straightforwardly. Sometimes she had a tendency to dress up her sentences with fancy words or figures of speech but it would be silly to deliberately make herself less likely to be understood.

"I'm studying history at the moment." she explained. It was a mix of recent history and major events of the past few hundred or so years. "I like it a lot and i find it very interesting, but when I am not studying I like to play music. What about yourselves?"

[New Elesar]

Dorm Gamma Common Room

Artem set his glass down, not wanting to get too drunk this early in the evening. The last time he'd done that had...to say the very least, not gone well, if "accidentally setting the curtains on fire and trying to throw them out a closed window" counted as not going well.

"Thank God for lying sisters," he thought, "If it hadn't been for them, I wouldn't be here right now."

He shifted in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "I'm here to study business, actually. My father is head of one of the larger corporations in the Empire, and I'm next in line once he...well, you know. Archaeology then, eh?" Artem laughed.

"Find any dinosaurs lately?"

---

Entertainment Zone

Olesya had been done with her coffee for maybe half an hour now, and yet remained tucked inside her little cafe hideaway, scanning the other patrons and the outside with her eyes. As fascinating as people could be, nothing had done anything to particularly catch her eye today. She persisted for a bit, but eventually grew tired of it and stepped outside, leaving her payment and a small tip on the table. Camera in hand, Olesya made her way to the front facade of the cafe. It was there that she picked up a familiar scent; the smell of cigarettes nearby. It didn't take long to find the source; a young man, maybe about Olesya's age, had taken up residence at one of the cafe's outdoor tables.

Normally she'd have thought nothing of him; just another one of the regulars, out enjoying the day. But then Olesya realized: this man wasn't one of the regulars. As a matter of fact, she couldn't remember ever having seen him before.

[Granzery]

---

Mont Chagrin Academy, Entertainment Zone

---

The three toasted with her glass of wine, when Alexia had finished speaking Rozsa answered her. "I'm studying a Bachelor of Science, my brother here will be starting International politics this year, its his first year." She took a sip of her cocktail, some kind of gin and fruit juice. "I'm hoping to be a Biologist or something like that, I'm not really sure yet I'm just seeing where it takes me, I'll probably be forced into being a professional princess or something anyway."

"The reason I'm starting my course so late is that the Granzerian government didn't allow royals to hold any government positions until now, now that that's been overturned I'm hoping to go into the diplomatic service," Attila said. "Hey what do you know about this Mascarade, I only arrived today, so I don't really know anything except it's supposed to be extremely exclusive."