- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Anime-esque, sci-fantasy, adventure, cyberpunk, high-fantasy, Victorian fantasy. comedic slice of life
Theme song:
A world drowning in an ancient war.
With an enemy that might as well be ourself.
To defend and maintain humanity, must we lose it?
The sound of empty plates and glasses clanging against each other filled the air inside the cafeteria of ARMA University, rivaled only by the excited chatter between the Cadets that had finished their meals. Young and old alike simmered with excitement for the ceremony. Those chosen to be worthy of graduating being the stars of the moment, received praise, attention, and perhaps a bit of envy, while those licking the wounds of their rejection were coddled with support by the friends they had made during their stay at ARMA.
Now, however, it was time to prepare, if only mentally, for the ceremony. Various clusters of Cadets strolled across the campus to attend the Regalia Hall, where those chosen worthy would be called on stage, given their Regalia and papers, and would hopefully relish in that one carefree moment of bliss, before their grim duties awaited them.
"I hear the SWORD herself is attending this year's ceremony."
"No way!"
"I swear, even Sentinel Behel seemed nervous. Why would he be nervous if it wasn't for her?"
"You're just imagining things, she's way too busy."
Laughter and hurried steps sounded across the campus's outside, whereas muffled steps--their sound drowned out by the thick, grey carpet that was laid out all throughout the inside of the ceremonial hall.
The interior was kept in various shades of grey, most of them dark, the only highlights presented by light-brown wooden shells running along the corridors, where the ceiling and walls connected. From behind them, long, sustained lamps shone their warm light. Photographs of historical ARMA members were framed golden along the walls.
A long queue had lined up in front of the last door of the corridor; a large double door was wide open, revealing rows and rows of seats lined up in front of a giant stage, backed by a giant, pristine display. Murmurs could be heard throughout the entire hall. As the students flood in, a small circle of faculty members stand tightly together, a little off the stage, preparing themselves for the prestigious ceremony.
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