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St. Vladimir's Academy

Two Towers

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a part of St. Vladimir's Academy, by Adrian Shadoan.

Each one is full of Classrooms

RolePlayGateway holds sovereignty over Two Towers, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Setting

Just around the schools sides are the classrooms.. go and get your learn on.
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Two Towers

Each one is full of Classrooms

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Two Towers is a part of St. Vladimir's Academy.

1 Characters Here

Yumiko Ai [0] A faerie, lost in a world she can't recognize.

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Zethya stared out at the Academy's grounds from her dormroom window. Her red hair was vibrant against her black cami and jean skirt. The tattoo of a lightning bolt on her left forearrm stuck out at odds with her outfit as well, but as usual, she didn't care. She looked at the sky. A storm was brewing. She fought a sudden urge to throw open the window and fly right into the oncoming lightning storm. She could feel the hairs on the back of her nec and on her arms standing on end.

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Teryl walked through one of the towers, looking for a practice range. Whenever he got this troubled about his past, he'd take it out on some mindless dummies or, if he caught a culprit, take it out on them. No matter where he looked though, the whole place seemed to be locked down since it was getting so late. He'd walk from door to door, grabbing the knob and pulling it only to find out it was locked. With every locked door, he became more angered. On top of his original anger, this wasn't the best thing. He just wanted to rip the doors from their hinges, but he always caught himself before any of the rash things.
After about the tenth door, he slammed his hand on the wall and sighed. He turned around and leaned his back on the firm stone wall, giving a heavy sigh of defeat. He hit the back of his helmet on the wall over and over again, trying to calm himself down mentally. Relax... he thought, There is no reason to act like this. Just calm down... Admitting defeat, he pushed away from the wall and began to walk back towards the room when something struck his eye. There was a room that was open...
He hurriedly rushed over and looked inside. The light was dim since the sun was setting, but he knew exactly what this room was. Wood, brass, leather, all of it was shining right at him. He took a step inside and was amazed at what he saw. "My God..." he whispered, "this place has a instrument room?" He saw all of the brass, woodwind, and drums that were all around. There were chairs, stands, and a conductors stand located in the room along with the instruments. He was amazed at this sight, not remembering the last time he's even seen a musical item.
As he walked, he found something that brought back so many memories. A lonely, wooden, acoustic guitar. No... he thought to himself, you should just walk right out of this room now... but he didn't. He reached out and grabbed the neck of the guitar. He rubbed his hands along it's smooth body and back up it's straight, clean strings, but couldn't feel anything. The guitar seemed to be teasing him, making fun that he couldn't feel it's incredibly smooth texture. He looked down at his gauntlet and then back at the guitar.
"Well..." he said and looked back at the door, making sure no one was watching, "I guess... it couldn't hurt..."

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Teryl looked down at his gauntlet hands and sighed. It's been such a long time since he took off any part of his armor and now he's finally doing it. He inhaled and grabbed one of his gauntlets and pushed. The metal glove squealed lightly from some rust as it turned slightly, unlocking. He slowly pulled it off, making sure his fingers didn't pinch or scratch on the way out. Underneath was the exact way he remembered his hands... dried blood covered most of it. It was all over his hands, going up his arm and hiding in every crease in his skin. The back of his hand was slightly bloodied, but the part that was the worst was his palm. In the middle of his hand was a metal spike, hammered into his hand. It appeared on the other side, but was cut so the gauntlet could fit. Not only was there a metal spike in his hands, barbed wire circled up his arm tearing away pieces of flesh.
Teryl sighed and began to curl his fingers over and over again, getting used to the air hitting his open wounds. He then looked over at his other gauntlet, pulled it off, and had the same spike and barbed wiring heading up his arm. He breathed lightly, feeling comfortable with just his hands and partial arms open to the cool air around him. He then picked up the acoustic guitar and strummed. He began to tuning it the way he wanted it to sound, carefully twisting and adjusting the pitch. When he was finished, his bloodied fingers ran across the guitar, releasing the default chord.
"Perfect..." he whispered and began to pluck out a tune. It was a slightly depressing, shanty tune. His fingers flew through the neck with each chord he plucked, keeping a steady pace and tune. His foot kept in tempo as it hit the ground over and over and over again. Through his helmet, he began to hum the rest of the instruments that were supposed to be playing. After awhile, he began to actually sing...

"A hundred days at sea, a wretch away from misery,
Rummies and rats and tarry jacks, my only family,
the island of salvation is still a scream away,
as the lungs of night blow out the light, my heart kneels down to pray...

Oh Lord why did you take her, she meant so much to me,
Now a wretched soul and a privateer downing out to at sea,
I'm killing and I'm drinking, my blue heart to black,
But I swear oh Lord I'll never sail again, if you bring her back..."

The song continued it's morrow tune, his fingers keeping time and rhythm. He was amazed he was doing so well, the last time he even held a guitar was over 300 years ago and he didn't even play them. His toe was tapping and his head was now bobbing with the song he sang so many, many times before...

"Well, Gypsy was a siren, dripping with desire,
Her moonless hair, skin so fair, warm as frozen fire,
She had the loyalty of a cat, behind those pale green eyes,
And through her cherry lips, the Devil slipped a thousand lies,
A clan of rogues and vagabonds occupied her head,
That thieving band took her pale white hand and stole her from my bed,
Like a ghost ship in the night, she drifted out once more,
To land upon the sand of another lovers shore,"

He couldn't stop now. He was in the moment, in the mood, in the complete and utter desire to play this instrument. He felt alive for the time he was playing it. He wanted to strum this song for the whole night. His cold heart began to catch fire, unable to control himself, he stood up and began to walk about, loving the feel of it all. He bobbed his head as he repeated the chorus through his helmet. He felt like his old self and even fluttered his wings a bit with the sound of the music. The guitar seemed to be a part of him now. He could feel the music flowing through him as he began his guitar solo. His fingers strummed the guitar gracefully, knowing the exact spots, the exact tempo and the exact chords. He was in the zone and couldn't be stopped.

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The window was barely open, but the music was loudest through that crack. Gripping the frame of the window, Yumiko held herself up, shadowed wings sighing with every movement to keep her up. Her pale eyes were glistening like a cat's in the moonlight when she peered over the top. A gasp escaped her lips.
Teryl? It was him? He was the music in her dreams? No. It couldn't be. And he had removed his gauntlets. Yumiko saw only a portion of what he was hiding from the world. Spiked wire, harsh metal spikes in his hands. It was a miracle he was playing that stringed instrument with those awful spikes. She wondered what else he was hiding. What else was he being subjected to underneath that cold metal suit? But her mind was on the music. Her thoughts had been preoccupied by his presence and his hands; his real hands. But she was positive, absolutely, that it wasn't him.
Yumiko slipped silently in the window and fell to the ground without a sound. She stopped to listen, hoping it was a different song. The little faerie hid behind a giant thing that looked like one of the drums her tribe used to play on during wedding ceremonies. A huge bowl with leather stretched so tightly over the top. A certain thickness to get the right sound. Beating it with a certain part of your hand made different beats. Yumiko had never learned to play, she had been too young. Sitting on the floor, the drum pressing against her back, she listened to his song.
There was no denying it. Teryl's music had once again drawn her to him. But in her dream... he was letting Chouko die. His song pulled her toward the darkness that would consume her. If only she'd made it there in time, Chouko, the light of her life, would be alive.
But Yumiko knew that wasn't true. Chouko was dead. She squeezed her eyes shut to those words, hoping to get them out with force. But they were stronger than her will. They stayed. Chouko was dead. Gone forever. Murdered. Pressing her fists to her eyes, Yumiko tried to hold back the sudden urge to sob until she couldn't move anymore. She knew she had to get back to the room, or Teryl would see her here. Yumiko couldn't let that happen.
And what would she say if he did find her here? What would she say if he returned to the room? Yumiko was speechless. Dreams meant so much to her people, and her's had been terrifying. And Teryl's song, the dark monster in her dream, had consumed her and prevented her from saving...
Covering her face, Yumiko waited to collect herself before slipping silently back out the window.

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Teryl continued to play, enjoying every minute of it as the song sped up, becoming a bit happier tune. He continued to hum the violin, bass guitar, and tambourines that were supposed to be present. He walked around, bobbing his head, but suddenly stopped, remembering the next verse. His fingers stopped playing and he simply lowered his head. The silence permeated around him, making everything very calm and collective. From the helmet, sniffles could be heard, but they were nothing compared to what was happening under the helmet. Tears began to leak from Teryl's eyes. He was actually showing remorse for the first time since he was a human. Something had happened to him, making him come alive for the first time.

He placed his fingers on the next chord and the energy of the music turned to jaunty to incredibly depressing...

"In my sleeping mind she sings a sad and lonely lullaby..."

He paused for a moment to try to regain his composure but strummed out another chord.

"And when I wake it's just the ache that will haunt me till I die..."

Again, he paused to sniff a few times, but plucked another chord.

"When those winds of vanity, no longer blow her west...
I pray they'll guide her home and put my heart to rest..."

He began to strum more vagrantly now, bobbing his head and keeping his composure easily now.

"Press gang filled this Man-o-war, to make the black mouthed cannon roar,
Now all my trade is ball and blade, and blood forever more,
And the sting of salt and spray, the ocean's howl and squall,
A stumbling wreck, I roam the deck, at the devils beckon call....
At the devils beckon call..."

He was now strumming as loud as he could not, feeling the emotions run through him.

"Oh Lord why did you take her, she meant so much to me,
Now a wretched soul and a privateer downing out to at sea,
I'm killing and I'm drinking, my blue heart to black,
But I swear oh Lord I'll never sail again, if you bring her back,
I swear, Oh Lord, I'll never sail again, if you bring her back..."

He finished up the song by strumming hard and as he finished, four of the six strings snapped, making a loud TWANG! sound. He was panting hard through his helmet, trying to catch his breath from the breakthroughs the music and mysterious forces gave him. He placed the guitar back down and grabbed his gauntlets. With sudden twists, he put them back on and headed towards the door. He looked out into the room once more before exiting the place and shutting the door.

"Now it's time to head back..." he whispered, "I'll grab some fruit from the cafeteria and head to my room. I hope Yumiko is alright still..."
(Move to Second Floor)

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She stopped breathing. Her heart was pounding. Every muscle in her body tense. Yumiko couldn't move. Entranced by his song, Yumiko felt all the sadness in her deepen. Why did his words make her remember everything? Why did they sound just like everything she'd been through, and was going through? The music stopped, Yumiko breathed, her muscles let go, and she was no longer a statue in the dark. The strings snapped and she jumped, turning and peering over the drum as he set the instrument down and began walking out. He was so tall. But she saw the broken angel inside the armor. She saw him more now than ever. Were they sharing the same heartache? It was almost like they'd lost the same person.
When he exited, she sighed and dropped to her knees, still holding onto the edge of the drum.
"What must I do?" Her voice was rotten against the lasting echoes of his voice in her mind. She could never compare to that. Not even the power to enjoy the sun more freely could compare to his song. Taking in a deep breath, she stood up, shoulders slumped.
He was heading back to the room and she didn't want to be missed. (Also, moving to 2nd floor.)