Falke der Herrscher's Story

A young fellow sat in a faded chair in the midst of a nearly empty room, save for the bed and linens bought to make it somewhat comfortable, if not livable at that. He had the quality of boyishness with his dark brown messy hair and seemingly mischievously glazed blue eyes. But with his cheeks that could have cut bread, lean but well muscled frame, and a stillness few youth as young as he could ever achieve, he seemed too serious in turn. He quietly listened to a mousy, brown-haired woman as she spoke, noting things as she went on her fingers with her index finger of the other hand, it was a familiar tap-tap in his ears. "There is food in the fridge, I've got it labeled with a sticker for you. And-..." His mother hummed, fretting. He listened to all she had to say, truthfully. But was tiring of her latest decision to dote on him today, and make sure he was all in order to survive the day before him without her there for him, it wasn't like he hadn't been through it before. His blind, blue eyes blearily attempted to focus in the vague direction of her voice echoing somewhere above his head from the chair he sat in, with mild success after years of practice, and he nodded whenever she paused to take a breath (like clock-work, oddly enough). "Mary, we'll be late, the boy will survive until we get home. Come now," Came a rough, gravely male voice from the other side of the fairly spacious apartment/lounge they rented whilst staying in New York for new business opportunities for his old man, waiting at the door. It was rare his father talked much with actual words, and less hrumping, grumbling grunts, and even rarer he seemed to be trying to save Falke a little more fond doting by his mother. Mary sighed, nitpickingly touching his shirt by making sure all buttons were buttoned and smoothed out wrinkles once again, before kissing him lightly on the fore-head and departed out of the room, "Good bye." "Bye." Falke breathed deeply once the door had shut, the voices of his mother and father departing down the hall, soon disappearing into the elevator he guessed and on their way to the dinner they where attending with other business associates, releasing it with an exasperated but amused snort. It had only taken five minutes this time to get her through her babying him and hustled out the door, which was an improvement at the very least. And she was constantly improving as he grew older, maybe one day he'd have her not blink an eye. Not likely, but still a pleasant thought. He returned to present thoughts instead of high day-dreams, glancing with bemusement around the empty room. What too do with his freedom the rest of the afternoon? Humm. "Otter?" He called, softly. In return came the slow, faithful pads as the old mutt walked to the chair its' master sat in, flopping down to lay at his feet, his tail whacking a few times into his shins. Falke leaned down, rubbing the ears of his faithful companion over the years as the dog pressed his head into his palm. "Want to go for a walk boy, Central Park, eh?" In response, Otter made a sound nothing sort of a scoffing groan, removing his head from being scratched and attempted to hide it between his front paws. Falke snorted, figuring as much. He struggled for a moment, pushing himself up out of the chair, currently attempting to engulf him whole with all the creaking and moaning noises it made while sucking him into the material. On his feet, he walked to his small closet, opening the door grabbing a black turtle-necked sweater to tug on over the blue dress shirt he currently wore, and accompanied it with a old dark brown leather business coat that had once been his fathers', imagining himself to now look like a respectable if causal young business man. It would do well enough to be able to walk outside in the slightly nippy weather, and come home without a cold, he was certainly eager to keep the doting sessions with his dearest mother five minutes or less. He made his way to the door, grabbing the keys to the apartment stuffing them in the jacket's pocket, gingerly shuffling around on the kitchen counter for his 'sunglasses' and settled them lightly on the bridge of his nose, and grabbed his walking stick leaning against the wall besides the door, tapping it experimentally on the toe of boots he wore. All in working order now, he paused before heading out, casting a forlorn voice forth, "Otter, you coming?" He was answered by something resembling a loud snore echoing across the apartment. Could dogs snore? Apparently. He rolled his eyes, opening the door with a creak, setting out down the hall and elevator when he came to it. He dipped his head politely as he slipped past the door-man, and out into the relatively crowded, smelly street of New York. In reality it wasn't all too bad, but it certainty wasn't home for him.

The trip through the winding city streets, somewhat hazardous cross-walks, he met little foot-traffic on his way to the park thankfully. Most surprisingly going out of there way of there busy lives that had worlds revolving around them alone to give him room as he confidently strode amongst the people around him. He could have liked a little less pity in the looks or whispers he earned, but what was, was, and he dealt with it by simply ignoring it. As he made it to the park the air seemed a little cleaner, and the honks of distant cars of city seemed farther away than they really were, it was the most peaceful place in the big city he'd found more often than not, a home away from home for him really. He walked calmly, slowly clicking his walking stick on the narrow pavement every now and again, sure never to stray from the path. Enjoying the quiet. He soon grew closer to sounds of commotion going on further ahead on the path, noting what seemed to be a bunch of gaggling girls talking amongst one another, shortly followed by what sounded like a tree falling now, felt like a tree falling down as the ground shook briefly under his feet even at his distance. A feathery brown eyebrow raised to be seen over the rim of his 'sunglasses', nostrils flared uncertainty. Okay. That was odd. New York was just weird, yes, that explained it all certainty. He convinced himself to continue moving again, certain it was just some weird New York thing/people, up to the point where the bench he usually sat at most days he came here, finding it occupied fully. Well, it was likely both could see far better than he and knew was was going on more or less, perhaps they'd tell him, eh, it was worth a shot; even if he didn't get a seat today, pity. "Do either of you mind, what's going on?" He mused lightly, questioning. Hoping his accent wasn't butchering his English too badly, he'd worked hard enough on it and it should have been literate sounding enough by now. He rested his walking stick against a slack leg, as he waited, politely, for an answer.

Dorian turned his attention from whatever was going on with the tree-girl group to the stranger standing near his bench. Oh. Dorian blinked. He was blind. Not that it mattered much, but it was kind of interesting.
"I'm not sure," He said, voice cold but not rude, after another sip of his rapidly cooling tea. Which was true because honestly things were just getting bizarre, even for Central Park. "When I arrived there was a girl who apparently climbed one of the trees asking where she was. Some other girls went to talk to her, a tree suddenly fell over, and now the girl from the tree is..." He paused, craning his neck to see. Backing away and repeating something he couldn't quite make out. "Freaking out...About something."
A cold chill ran up his spine and he suddenly shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. There was something warm on his right wrist, where his bracelet was, but he didn't pay it any mind. Something was happening. Or maybe that was just one of the girls pulling out a butter knife. Regardless, staying here? Not a great idea.
Dorian stood up, hand still gripping his cup.
"Now one of the girls has a knife," He added, more for the stranger's sake than his. See, he wasn't completely mean. "Leaving might be a good idea."

Maris watched closely, but her attention was drawn from the group of girls to the blind man talking to the other one she sat next to. Not wanting to overhear, the girl scooted closer to her edge of the bench, her mind and focus now on the girls. She shivered, shuddered, and looked to her left wrist in almost a passive shock. The heat that she felt from it was scaring her.

When she heard that one girl had pulled out a knife, the little one was up and on her feet. However, she couldn't bring herself to leave, something glued her there to that very spot. Fear? Most likely, since she was starting to shake uncontrollably from it. Her eyes were wide, and she could barely process what was going on. A possible druggie, one girl wielding a knife and waving it at the direction of the fallen tree, a blind man, and apparently the person she had been sitting next to was a perfect gentleman. This must be some weird dream!

It was easy enough to pretend that this was just New York, weird things happening there day by day, but then again-... Falke felt his hackles raising up as if he were a feral dog ready to fight or flee, whichever seemed productive in the situation at hand. He could tell something just wasn't right, and couldn't be explained just as simple weirdness. And his hand felt oddly warm, a soft heat searing from the metal coils wrapped around his finger and the jewel, a star-shaped sapphire, lay transfixed within. But he didn't pay it any more mind, save for noting it was a odd annoyance and occurrence in the beginning of a bitter fall season in the city around him, considering the situation at hand. What was going on, seriously?

He listened intently to what the stranger had to say, growing more uneasy. But his facial features remained carefully blank, thoughtful even. Generally when people began freaking out about something, and butter-knife, or knife in general, was involved, that didn't mean anything good was happening. Yes, it was likely a good idea to leave, especially before it got to out of hand, whatever was happening. Just as he decided he would turn and leave and walk another trail in the park far away from whatever was going on here today and thank the stranger for his answers as he went, he barely kept himself from nearly skittering sideways when sudden sound and movement close at hand crashed abruptly against his heightened and alerted senses. He tensed, strung up as tightly as a hunting bow. His nostrils flared as he snorted in surprise. Glancing vaguely in the direction of the sound at the bench, the other person, a little person at that, that had sat at the bench along with the stranger who had spoken with him and answered his questions had gotten up suddenly, he imagined he could smell the fear coming off her little shaking form. Okay. Nothing scary, more or less, here. But geez', he wasn't normally this easily jumpy. "Leaving seems rather logical." He hummed roughly in answer, finally. Just as a sudden explosion of sound ontop of what was already going on, clicking, crackling, and hissing, like some giant, monster bug-thing. He took a step back then, a thin line on his maw. Okay, yes, leaving sounded very good right now.

Dorian's cup of tea tumbled to the ground, the liquid spilling into the grass below. Monsters were not real. They did not knock over trees. They did not claw their way out of the ground. And, most importantly, they did not show up in Central Park. Except, apparently, they did. Only Dorian did not intend to stick around and see what else monsters could apparently do.
But he couldn't move for a moment, fear keeping his feet firmly planted to the ground. The monster in question was the most horrific thing Dorian had ever seen, its reptilian features belonged in the nightmares of a dark, disturbed mind, not standing in front of him.
The warmth on his right wrist was pulsing now as if trying to catch his attention. He spared it a glance, but could only see the ever present glint of silver from his bracelet and it really wasn't his problem right now.
But the warmth did serve the purpose of distracting him for just long enough to snap him out of the frozen state of fear and bring him back to the present. His hand shot out, wrapping itself solidly around the blind boy's wrist before he started to run, tugging the other boy along after him, barking out a short, "Come On!". There wasn't any time to explain what was happening, and he still had the presence of mind not to leave someone to die.

Jasmine took a large gulp of air as she looked at the massive creature before her.
Her feet were rooted to the ground as she looked into the monsters slits for eyes.
"Oh God, I'm going to die." She squeaked, her throat closing.
She knew it was sheer fear that kept her in the same spot, Jasmine looked over at the group retreating and closed her eyes for a minute.
"Okay." She said softly, taking a deep breath.
She opened her eyes and turned, sprinting away.
Jasmine could feel the heat of her bracelet on her wrist, but that wasn't important right now, she needed to get away - Why did she ever come to New York.
Catching up with the two boys she looked at them "You see it too right?" She asked, wondering whether she was going insane.

Jackson had managed to ignore the odd group of girls hanging around and in a tree and finally finish his mystery book and even started on the second one he brought, but he couldn't ignore the big black dragon-bug and horrid screeching. He turned and growled both against the interruption and the headache it gave him.

He was still capable of thinking, though, especially thinking crazy thoughts like he was somehow actually IN the book, as it was about dragons. That was impossible though. He looked around and saw people either frozen or running around, away from the creature. Those people were not in his book. The girls were the same ones who gathered around the tree, unless they got somehow pulled into the book too. Even more impossible. The skinny teen was extremely confused right now but that confusion had yet to slip into fear.

He caught two boys older than him also running, two boys he hadn't thought were crazy. He finally and completely came back to Earth when he had a sudden cramp in his right hand. NOW he was scared. Was he having an attack? Dropping the book, he fumbled in his pocket for the phone his mom made him carry everywhere.

Maris still stood where she was, and she watched as the gentleman pulled the blind person along with him in his race to get out of here. She, herself, wanted to run, but her feet were positively glued to the sidewalk on which she stood. The young girl bit her lip to hold back the scream that rose up in her throat. She tried to move and follow the two men out of there, but she was panicking because she still couldn't move.

The sharp intensity of the heat on her left wrist, however, broke her trance. She gave her bracelet a quick glance before taking a breath and running after the blind man and the gentleman. Hopefully, Maris would make it far away from here and closer to home.

As the sharp splash of Earl Gray tea wetting the grass, and the Styrofoam cup crumbled squishingly as it connected with the ground, came to be heard by his sensitive ears, Falke had decided enough was enough. With the primal alien like screech in the distant, people freaking out all over, and the situation around him just didn't feel right in the slightest (but it just wasn't New York weirdness); it was time to go. He was half turned around to leave, when the stranger he'd spoken to firmly clamped his hand around his wrist and commanded him to 'Come on' with a sharp bark. Before he could protest, or get a full explanation of what was going on, he was tugged about the other direction fully and dragged forward into a run. He barely managed to keep himself from face-planting those first few steps, and only with a few persistent staggering steps in, he managed to collect his feet underneath him and run truly. And he could run when needed ably enough, it wasn't a past time for him however regarding his ability to find things to run into easily.

As another girl, one of those that had been front and center to the happenings, caught up to the stranger and his own mad race to get out of there whilst they could. He bit down a bitter remark after her question, didn't she see the 'sunglasses'? Whatever. But merely shrugged rather meekly in answer, he couldn't see what /it/ was - but he knew what the stranger had told him and listening to the bug-like alien-ish screeches, clicks, clacks, and such, /it/ wasn't likely a stuff'd animal or something fluffy, nice, and not likely to eat them.

“Well get something!” Tallyho hissed as she broke from the young man’s grip and veered off towards the right of the beast. The cyclopean wasn’t exactly paying attention to her, however. It kept its sights on the other two. Without sound, it broke into a manic dash towards the two, its teeth clicked rapidly.
Tallyho found that as her opportunity. She had to kill it right then and she wasn’t going to stop until it was dead. She was always taught that letting a cyclopean roam free was just like killing five people. The blonde hurried across the grass trying to make as little sound as possible as she went.
Once she got a hold of the knife she looked back to check how far the beast had gotten. Really, the cyclopean was very unorganized. It abandoned its quest for the two teens and went running after a group consisting of the other young people who had run off earlier.
“Hey! Come back.”

The cyclopean kept going. It wasn’t until her third taunt that the creature turned to her. Tallyho gripped the knife and narrowed her eyes. The sun was setting and the light tore through them like a march of madmen. The silhouette of the cyclopean turned and finally, it came running. She locked her sights on its chest, where the heart was and held the lifted the knife. The dull, useless knife. She sprinted forward and prayed to feel the squishy bruised flesh protecting the heart’s cavity.
She didn’t even feel its breath on her neck. She took another step forward and squealed in pain. She stepped into a heaping pile of…black glass? She knelt down and took one of the shards, held it up to examine it in the light, but no light came through.
“Onyx…”
An odd sensation engulfed her. Her heart dropped and she felt like she was falling. She was positive that her eyes were open but all she could see was black.
Then she felt the ground beneath her. Laying face up she opened her eyes to see stars, bright white stars, long yellow streaks, and strawberry milk gas clouds. She stood up, dazzled and panicked. The floor was cold, almost marble like. It was a transparent pink but all she could see below her were lights and planets.
Then she scanned her general vicinity. Each of the young people from before were sprawled out on the dreamy pink path way. Even the ones who ran.
“Why… I’m not too sure what going on,” Tallyho mumbled. At least she meant to. Her voice was amplified, and echoed.

Dorian came back to reality slowly, eyes taking in the insanity around him without actually comprehending what was going on. The last thing he remembered... The last thing he remembered was running from that thing and then he'd been falling, somehow. His brain was finally catching up with the sudden scenery jump, and he sat up in a sudden motion, finally seeing but still not understanding a sky above him that looked like it had been painted by a particularly artistic six-year-old girl.
He looked around himself and saw all of those people from the park- the little girl, the blind boy he'd been running with, even the girl from the tree who had apparently just spoken. It was like he was in a dream, a painfully realistic dream and he wasn't waking up.

A slight tired groan escaped Anagenisi, as she rolled on her side of what appeared to be a hard ground, not the grass she was standing on not long ago. Her brain was frazzled, all she remembered was watching the girl from teh tree plunger the weak butter knife into the beast, ad then a sudden feeling of falling and slipping into black. She squeezed her clear blue eyes shut tight and pushed herself up from the ground, and into a stance. Her eyes wandered around the confusing space, it seemed like a little child's dream, where they would run away and maybe escape. Looking down at the ground, she noticed the people from the park, and now her head seemed to throb with confusion, yet she noticed two were conscious, the girl from the tree and a boy who she thought was on a bench before. Shaking her head a bit, a to get her eyes straight she realized, thsi wasn't any dream. But at the same time, was this even a reality?

What the? His brain felt groggy, like the times he'd stayed up far past his self allotted bedtime or tried to do too much in one day straining body, mind, and soul. How long had been sleeping on the floor, again? And, wait-... Voices? Familiar somewhat at that, and yet-... Reality returned with a short, unpleasant jerk. From laying on the floor, in flash he was up to his hands and knees, fighting the dizziness plaguing him from moving so fast more or less upright. He sucked in a breath of fresh air, unaware that he'd been holding it, with a gasp. They'd been running from an /it/, and then falling. He'd been expecting a face-plant on cold, hard concrete not somehow this cool, smooth marble-like material, he was very confused. Chyme like clinks echoed and became noticed by his ears, seemingly falling directly underneath him, as well as a growing painful itchiness on his face. Crows, his glasses. A long fingered hand came up rubbing gently but determinedly away shards that hadn't fallen off yet and left-over powders of the destroyed black plastic 'sunglasses', noting the new collection of cuts across the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, and oddly enough above his right eye by his temple. He didn't even want to think what his mother or father was going to say to him after he came home without them, he was terrible with the things and it was the third pair this year already. But something in his gut told him the demise of his glasses, was rather unimportant in the scheme of things. Alright, set priorities straight. Monster attacking, clearly not in Central Park anymore, and a whole bunch of teens crashed on the floor around him. Something was happening, though he wasn't quite sure what. Wonderful.

A girl was talking at first, others following soon enough in answer, and his brain was able now to comprehend what she was saying but not at the same time, maybe it was the echoes fault, likely. He glanced up, new cuts stinking as he narrowed his eyes wearily, as they made their unfocused trek about the room. "Explain, please." He rumbled, briefly. Wanting to know what was going on, What had happened, etc; from the verbal point of view that he didn't have.

Try to be the hero. Land flat on your back. Nice.

First thoughts were never what they should be when the circumstances called for them. Chandler first noted that he would be late to work, if he would be able to show up at all. The coffee shop wouldn't have been open too much later anyway given the time of day, but the manager had said she needed help cleaning the machines in the back. He was always willing to help out.

Judging from his surroundings, the coffee shop and his manager were far away. He would lose another paycheck.

Meanwhile, the others around him seemed to be asking the right questions. Seemed to be. Chandler couldn't be sure of course. He noticed his Ipod and headphones were missing, most likely in the hands of a punk kid now, and that Central Park had vanished from beneath him. Chilled (from fear? anxiety? excitement?), he stood up, brushed off his jeans (because that's what they did in the movies) and glanced around the rest of the group that were waking still.

One of the girls he had tried to save was asking about some light, while a young man decided to walk toward it. Never mind the rest of the teens on the ground. One of them was even a little kid! Chandler ignored the light and its followers. He wanted to make sure everyone was safe first. That monster, though he hadn't processed fully the dire situation since if cut off so quickly, might still be around.

When his rather widely based question answered by a vague answer and suggestion of what they should do from the same stranger whom had told him that some weird stuff was going on in the park and had then preceded to drag him along behind away from the screeching, hissing danger, Falke remained silent, weary but thoughtful. Alright then, fine... Go where? He pushed himself fully upright from his hands and knees, rolling stiff shoulders. Noting his walking stick wasn't with him anymore either, wonderful. Blearily he scanned his surroundings, ignoring the mild stings from the various cuts on his face, focusing on the general direction the others echoing, then abruptly disappearing footsteps, were heading. This was just weird. He hesitated before following /blindly/. Listening closer, he heard a soft humming sound in the direction the other teenagers had headed, it was bright, high, and an alien sound to his ears. And then someone mentioned light. Right. Sure, walk through the humming light to whatever lay beyond, sounded reasonable. Not. And weren't you often told never to walk toward the light in the first place? Yea... Reluctantly though, he forced himself to move closer, out of the base human nature of preferring not to be left alone in a strange, particularly unwelcome place, after just having their morning's shattered by the screams of a other worldly beast. He frowned, eyes narrowed as he sightlessly tried to size up what was just in front of him. The humming was louder now this close, and he had a feeling of in-between from it rolling around in his gut. "Here goes nothing..." He muttered to himself, now alone and the last to head through. Hesitantly he stepped forward, the light seemingly liquid pressing against tightly against his skin, and then nothing...

The second time he woke up, he'd landed on his back, and slowly he shoved himself into a sitting position with a low, nearly inaudible groan. Okay. He really could deal with a little less of this brain meddling, teleporting, whats' ever you'd call it, nonsense. Blinking, he glanced around. Nostrils flared. He felt soft greenery tickling between his fingers, very overgrown grass. The air seemed cleaner, gentler. Well, where ever they'd ended up this time, it wasn't anywhere close to Central Park, or even New York for that matter. And then there was the matter when his brain finally caught up and was able to process what his ears were hearing from the others talking around him... The gist he got was; a talking cat, turned into a man, so cat-man, Haru, not a dream this is real folks, destiny, special stones in their jewelry, month warriors, and cyclopeans. Okay, okay. Wait, what?! Falke just sat there, not bothering to get up just yet. Trying to process all the information, story, really crazy dream, etc, he was getting with some success. But he continued to stay silent, not jumping to conclusions or trying to call wolf at once. He flicked his eyes toward the general direction the voice of Haru, the cat-man, whatever, had spoken from, quietly and patiently waiting to listen more.

“Well I’m letting you have the option to go free to roam the fields like a cow. I won’t mind,” Haru hummed., It was obvious that he added a bit of snarky to his remark. “My only question is… who accepts this challenge?”
Tallyho approached Haru. She was hesitant at first, but once she began she didn’t stop. “I’m willing… I mean, I don’t have much else to do.”
“We have one,” Haru announced.

Rajani wasn't any more sure about this month warrior thing any more than anyone else, and possibly even less sure. While she was gone, what would happen to her father and her younger brothers? She went to the store to get some medicine for her youngest brother when she was spirited away. Anxiously, the young Indian woman twirled her opal necklace. Would her brother still be there when she got back? She shuddered at the thought. The faster this thing was over the faster she could get home.

Despite fears for her family, she didn't argue with the strange redhead like two of the boys. Destiny wasn't something that could be escaped, but she wished she wasn't the only one on this adventure, or that it would wait until her brother was better. Timing of destiny also wasn't something that could be controlled either. She whispered a prayer for her family's safety to her own goddess and accepted the bag of money that forementioned redhead, Haru, was passing out. She was tempted to ask where he got it from but thought that would be rude, so she just said, "Thank You." Her English was heavily accented, but she thought she spoke carefully enough to be understood.

Looking around the barracks style room, the dark brown eyes located a little brown-haired girl hiding in a corner and two other boys. One boy was blind with scratches on his face and the other boy was the blond one who didn't want to believe Haru. Rajani was cautious of both for she wasn't used to spending time with boys her age unsupervised, but they couldn't go alone.

Remaining careful, the stocky young woman approached the little girl first, because it felt more comfortable. "Hello. My name is Rajani. Do you want to come with me?"

The next morning was ushered in by Haru sweeping through the room, waking the teens up in with awkward nudges of the shoulders.
Tallyho finally opened her eyes which were still weak from sleep. Her locks were fanned out about the pillow, with random strands jolting up from her head in the most rebellious fashion they could muster.
“Hurry up and get your stuff together, and come down to the lobby,” Haru said before the hinges on the doors whined and the sound of Haru hustling down the stairs beat thuds through the room.
Tallyho slid out of the bed and caught her balance on weak legs before she stretched a bit.

"Of course they're worth my time. It's my duty after all," Ryou smiled, finally setting Karma down to put his full attention on the month warriors' answers. To his credit, his grin didn't even shrink by one molar as negative answer after negative answer was given.
"I practice Tae-Kwon-Doh," Dorian finally answered when it seemed like no one else was going to speak up. He wasn't actually sure if Ryou would know what that meant at first, but from the way the man perked up, it was apparent that he did.
"Really? What belt?"
"Black belt."
"Excellent!" Ryou beamed, looking well and truly pleased that at least someone had thrown or would admit to throwing a punch in their lives. Dorian just hoped that he wouldn't hug him.
"All right! Thanks for that bit of information, everyone. Now the tour can officially begin. Follow me and, please, don't taunt Karma. She's lived at a training Academy since she was a baby. It's just not wise. Now, let's go!"
With that, Ryou spun around and began to lead the way around the Academy.

While the Academy was not extremely large, as the tour revealed, it had a lot to offer. It was one interlocking building but with a variety of different, large rooms, much like any university or even a mall. Ryou pointed out an armory, a dojo, the library("Only if you have my, Karma's, or one of our elite student's permission. Same goes for the armory," Ryou had warned as they passed by), the dining hall where meals would be served("Come when you're summoned because we don't serve after meal hours . Usually a bell rings when it's meal time"), and a number of other room before he stopped, once more outside the maze-like building. Dorian had a terrible feeling that he'd get lost in the building and they'd never hear from him again.
"These are the dorms for our students. The East dorm is for the boys, West for girls. Simple, right?" Ryou said cheerfully. "You'll be staying on the bottom floor of each dorm where all of our new students stay until they progress through the ranks."
He then pointed at a building a small ways apart from the Academy building.
"That is where I, Karma, and a few others live. If you need help, don't be afraid to pop in. Now, you lot should go get settled, all right? Your rooms are the ones with open doors. Meet me out in the court yard in an hour at the latest."