"Ghoul School" RPG

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You have been admitted as part of the newest class of students to attend the Robert Moulton Memorial Academy. Your letter of acceptance tells you to meet at a private dock in Salem, Massachusetts on a certain date.

Each student is advised to bring only one suitcase of private possessions, as the school will provide uniforms and all basic necessities for the students. The little you know of the school is informally known is 'Ghoul School' that it is on an island, is magically hidden from mundanes, and is meant to help educate 'special students' on how to peacefully coexist both with each other and with humanity.

Those of you who research deeper learn that the school dates back to the times of the Salem Witch Trial and that, along with educating the children of supernatural clans, the school is said to have other responsibilities to the supernatural community.

Date: Before start of school

Students may post whatever they are doing to prepare for the start of school, especially how their family reacts to them going.

Edited by Nodrog on Feb 26th 2021 at 12:20:32 PM

There was little ceremony to Basil's last day before departing. The Cooks were not a family known for their sentimentality, and regarded his leaving in a detached and stoic manner. Basil felt much the same, going on as if it were any other morning. He had already packed his bag, stuffing it with a few toiletries, a water bottle, his notebook, and finally his beloved (as much as anything could be said to be beloved of him) graphing calculator. His father was waiting in the family car to drive him to the dock, which was only a few hours away. During the ride he sat in silence, pondering what it would be like to live at the academy.

Lucien Vaugeois

Private academy located off of Massachusetts...federally protected land...docks are owned by the Society of Gregor's Vigil...

Lucien sighed and closed the book he'd been intently reading. This has Council influence written all over it. Really, Society of Gregor's Vigil? They weren't even trying to be subtle these days.

He set the book into its place in his suitcase, then stepped back to look it over. Books? Check. Staff? Check. The signet ring his father had insisted on even though Lucien was relatively sure being a high-status mage didn't matter much in this school? ...that was also there.

Everything was in order and ready to go, so Lucien snapped the suitcase closed, picked it up, and walked over to the door, opening it and leaving his room behind.

The walk to the foyer was not exactly long. It certainly felt that way, though, the sound of his steps echoing through empty hallways. The house was always quiet, the atmosphere itself oppressive enough to crush any words that might be spoken—though it didn't need to be. Lucien had long ago learned the lesson that he was better off seen and not heard.

Eventually, he was there, descending the staircase into the foyer proper. Standing near the front doors was a short man with ruddy skin, dressed in a black coat and hat. Closer to the staircase were his parents; his father tall and thin, with black hair and pale skin, and his mother, who had white hair, blue eyes, and a smile that appeared as rarely as her son's.

Neither said a word as he passed them, but they didn't need to. The message was clear in their eyes: Don't be a disappointment. Lucien nodded respectfully, as if to say, I won't.

"You ready to go?" the short man asked, and Lucien nodded. The short man opened the doors, and the mage stepped out into the cold of the outside. From there, it was a speedy process—he entered the car waiting outside, and the short man started driving to the docks.

The arrival time is after sunset, probably for the more photosensitive students. The outdoor docks are lit by large halogen lamps but a heavy fog still restricts visibility. Several teachers and the school janitor, Pat, are there to collect luggage and get students onto the large ferry that will carry them to the school. Pat greets many of the arriving parents, recognizing them from when they are students.

Pat is an adrogynamous human figure with dark hair cut short. Strangely, while you have no trouble upon recognizing Pat after being first being introduced, you find it hard to clearly describe or even visualize Pat when you are not looking directly at that person.

Professor Bunns isn't there, but you do see a man dressed in loose robes and turban. He wears an ornate signet ring on his right hand. He introduces himself as Professor Herringbone, the head of the Post-Vitalus Communications Department. He explains that Professor Buns had to deal with a last minute crisis in her other job and that she expects to be back at the school when classes officially start.

Edited by Nodrog on Oct 17th 2020 at 10:25:30 AM

Here it was, the day had come for John to leave home and go to a school amongst other supernaturals. To say that he was excited would be an understatement, he was absolutely completely thrilled that he'd be able to meet others who weren't the norm. The things he could potentially see to inspire him, it was all so promising.

He would have time to fantasize about all the possibilities of this new life AFTER he packed his bag. Needless to say, the Lawsons were geniuses by book, not necessarily in terms of general stuff that SHOULD be obvious. But they were able to make groundbreaking technology that amazed almost anyone who saw them.

Take his mother, who was a genius of the field of modern medicine, and could turn a man from hopeless to joyful in a single day, something that was no easy task for a regular human. Or his father, who was a master of data management and cyber security. They were, to say the least, geniuses.

Luckily, John didn't have to pack much. Only a few tools he used for the operation and creation of his inventions and some headphones for listening to heavy metal, the objectively superior genre of music, or at least it was in his opinion.

Now that he had all he needed, it was time to go. No sense in waiting around any longer. He headed out into the main room and was greeted by the servant assigned to him. "Greetings, young master John, are you now ready to depart?" The servant asked him, bowing. "Hell yeah I am, Arnold. Let's rock." John responded enthusiastically. Arnold nodded and led John outside to the car that was there and ready.

Arnold opened the door for John, and closed John's car door and got into the driver's seat after John entered the car. And with that, they were off. Arnold put on some heavy metal as they were driving to the destination. "Is this to your liking, young master?" Arnold asked John as the song was starting up. "Damn right it is!" John says excitedly, rocking out to it throughout the ride.

Lucien

Lucien's first impression of the docks was fog. Lots of it, stretching from the docks themselves to far out into the sea. "Fog's thick as curdled milk," grunted the driver. Lucien was inclined to agree.

Well, it wouldn't do him much good to complain—ice magic did many things, but controlling the weather wasn't among them. So instead of complaining, he stepped out of the car, murmured a quick "thanks" to the driver, and headed for the ferry.

Maybe it was an odd sight, a student without their parents or any adult supervision. If it was, Lucien didn't particularly care. He simply handed his suitcase over to one of the teachers and moved to board the ferry.

For a moment, his attention was caught by one of the teachers. Professor Herringbone, apparently. Clearly a mage, based on the signet ring. Head of the "Post-Vitalus Communications Department". "Necromancy," Lucien muttered, not caring to be heard. "He teaches necromancy. Why he didn't use the proper term when he's a teacher is something I can't even begin to understand..." As he talked to no one, he followed his fellow students up onto the ferry.

Professor Herringbone frowns, offended. "Excuse me, I find your statement offensive and ill-informed. Necromancy is forbidden almost everwhere and with good reason."

"Necromancy was a set of archaic and ill-advised practices centered around enslaving souls. Post-vitallis communication is about working with contractually bound souls under Council approved legal and moral guidelines. It is clear your family has been neglecting your knowledge of modern magical practices and I will make sure you are assigned to one of my classes so I can correct that!"

A thin, gaunt figure in a ship's uniform announces the ferry will be departing in ten minutes, and everyone going to the school needs to board now.

Edited by Nodrog on Oct 18th 2020 at 12:16:14 PM

Lucien

Oh, please. It's the same damn thing, just under different names. Lucien distinctly recalled this from his studies—necromancy had been the umbrella term for all soul-related magic once, up until someone decided to give the practices different names, for whatever reason. He would've been perfectly content to leave it at that were it not for:

It is clear your family has been neglecting your knowledge of modern magical practices.

For a moment, Lucien froze. His eye twitched. Neglecting— neglecting knowledge?! Does he take me for a fool? Gritting his teeth, he stormed up onto the ferry, carelessly pushing through his peers.

"Neglecting knowledge...neglecting knowledge..."

Fine. Let him be assigned to that professor's classes. He would ace them. He would not be neglectful.

He'd show him.

"It is optimal to meet you, professor" says Basil after the man introduces himself. "What area of your field do you specialize in? What is the nature of the afterlife?"

He was pleased that the school staff appeared to be doctors of their fields as opposed to mere pedagogues. His anticipation for the coming year grew manyfold.

"Do not worry about confusing necromancy with post-mortem communication" he says obliviously to Lucien, patting him on the shoulder, "Its a classic layman's mistake"

Sarah was sitting quietly seemingly oblivious to it all but in actuality, she was trying to get a read of the room and get a feel of who she'd be dealing with in terms of her professor and classmates. Noticing the professor argue with two mages about necromancy and generally playing the semantics game, she decided to stand up and walk around the deck of the ferry and look for others of her own kind.

"Am I the only vampire here?" she thought to herself, not realizing she said the words out loud from under her breath

"Ov course not." A heavily accented voice say. A patch of fog seems to coalesce into the form of a tall statuesque looking girl with white hair, pale skin, and dressed in a tie-dye shirt and an ankle length denim skirt. "You muzt remember, to get to ze school ve muzt travel over open water, yez? Many of uz find such travel... taxing. Better to make the trip safe in a familiar coffin razzer zen out among ztrangers. Pluz, in zat way, no one can see if we have mal de mer... ze... how you say? Zea zickness?"

She extends her hand. "Forgivenss. On ze commune, I did not learn ze manners. I am Moonbeam Over Gravestones Under Inky Blackness, but you may call me Luna."

Edited by Nodrog on Oct 19th 2020 at 10:13:16 AM

Professor Herringbone says "Everyone aboard the ferry. Anyone in danger of drowning, please put on a life vest.". Professor Herringbone snaps his fingers and a bright orange life vest floats over to him. "Thank you, Sidney."

A faint, eldritch voice, little more then a whisper, can be heard saying "It's Simon, sir."

Professor Herringbone says "Er, of course. I meant to say Seemore. Sorry, Seemore."

There's a faint, whispered sigh.

Edited by Nodrog on Oct 20th 2020 at 1:05:33 PM

Lucien

"Hands off," Lucien snapped, turning to glare at Basil. "And— confusing? With all due respect..."

He took a step back and cleared his throat. "The term 'necromancy'. Like most other English terms, the word it evolved from, necromantia, is Latin. Like most Latin words, that word was originally Greek. In this case, the word was nekromantéia, which is a compound of the words 'nekrós', meaning dead, and 'mantéia', meaning prophecy."

Lucien paused for a quick breath. "In other words, necromancy was used to summon spirits for divination. In other other words, they're the same thing. Thank you and good night."

And with that, he turned on his heel and left. Preferably to be alone, but better company would make a decent consolation.

"Luna, you say? I have to admit, it's interesting to meet a fellow vampire here. I was kinda worried I'd be the only one here. Where you from? I'm from Alexandria, Virginia."

Sarah gladly shook Luna's hand and made a mental note of Luna's Eastern European accent, she was under the impression that this was mainly an American school but at the same time, she would not be surprised if it was one of those international academies. Either way, it didn't matter too much. Sarah was just glad to see another one of her own kind.

Luna shrugs. "My madre, she would say ve are citizens of ze universe. Ze truth is ve are gypsies; travling all over. My madre says that my vanting to stay put for schooling is a rebellious phase she hopes I grow out of. "

Professor Herringbone stamps his foot. "I will have you know that I have not one asked Samson to attempt to foresee the future and would refuse it if he offered."

"Indeed." whispers Simon. "Besides, if I could reliably tell the future, I never would have accepted that college loan offer with the easy extended repayment plan."

Edited by Nodrog on Oct 20th 2020 at 10:54:51 AM

As the car came to its destination, Arnold turned down the music. "Master John, we are at the destination." Arnold announced. As John came to the realization of where they were, he got his luggage and got out of the car. "Thanks, Arnold. Try not to worry too much while I'm away, Arnold." John said as he left the car and Arnold promptly returned to the Lawson household, given that he was quite a busy man.

As John overheard the argument between the mages about necromancy, he tried to sneak away from it. Possibly saying something to get thrown into an argument about magic with people who knew about it.

With having a bit of spare time before departure, he decided to head over to a bench to make sure his arm was all good. After all, he wouldn’t have access to nearly as many resources as he had back home once he departed. Certain parts of what was his previously completely normal arm would open up and he would start to mess around with it, making sure nothing was wrong. If anyone would look over, he would look very focused on operating on the arm and not particularly trying to hide what he was doing.

Edited by dusk0bish on Oct 21st 2020 at 12:20:13 PM

Lucien

Lucien didn't even bother to respond to the professor. Someone childish enough to stomp their foot when proven wrong was someone clearly not worth his time.

Instead, he simply continued walking, trying to find somewhere where no one here would bother him. Of course, if someone did try talking to him at this time, he wouldn't be entirely opposed to conversation...

A thin, gaunt figure wearing a 'Styx River Tours' uniform stands up. "All aboard the ferry... we will be leaving in five minutes. Flotation vests are available for anyone who wants one."

Basil, though somewhat surprised, was not particularly perturbed by Lucien's reaction "humans are rather volatile are they not?" he thought to himself. He decided he had ought to board the boat before it left without him. He considered just swimming alongside the boat, but didn't want to miss any important announcements that might be made. He walked on board the vessel, searching for for an area to sit that was not already occupied by others.

Professor Herringbone grabs a bright orange life jacket and tugs it on, while chasing after Lucien. "Young man, don't leave when I am trying to talk to you. I demand that you apologize for calling me a necromancer or I'll be forced to take gra... stern measures!"

Looking flustered, he tries to reach for a coat pocket only to realize the life jacket is in the way.

Luna gets one of the bright orange life vests and looks at it, puzzled. "Zis vill help us swim? It iz so bulky..."

Precious Leblanc

The banquet her parents had thrown for the evening before her departure was nothing short of lavish. The pre-dinner hors d'oeuvres were, she had been reliably informed, superbly well-crafted by the most reputable of local chefs. And, of course, the dinner itself was as supernatural as many of the guests, all in the nouvelle style her parents preferred. Precious had held pride of place at the head of the long table in the dining room, and had noted the perfect tenderness of the shell steak with Madeira sauce as she mimed taking delicate bites of the meal before her and kept up a steady stream of light conversation with her parents on one side and several of their old school chums on her other.

The event had lasted well into the night, and it had been just past midnight by the time Precious had finished helping the last of the slightly tipsy guests into the care of their waiting driver. She had spent the rest of her evening hours reorganizing her suitcase and doing some light reading (Frankenstein; a potentially tasteless joke gift from a distant relative, but an interesting tale nonetheless). She had taken care to keep her lights low, ever aware of her parents' desire for her to appear asleep at such hours.

The next day, her mother and father had insisted on accompanying her on the 3 hour drive from Connecticut to the ferry which would take her to Robert Moulton Memorial Academy. Her mother had been teary-eyed the whole drive, and her father had reached for her hand when the driver pulled out of the New Canaan city limits and had not let go for the remainder of the trip.

Now, she was running late, a fact which displeased her. She finally managed to subtly extricate herself from her parent's embrace with promises to write often, pecking each of them on the cheek in parting and remembering to turn around halfway to the ferry to wave, knowing they would be expecting her to do so.

Precious boarded the ferry delicately, careful not to slip as the fog had made the walkway damp. She nodded to the ferryperson as she stepped on board.

"My sincerest apologies for the delay, I do hope I have not caused too much inconvenience."

She smiled at them before heading further onto the ferry, stepping around the incensed professor with a soft "Pardon me," and taking a seat nearby the surly-looking target of the professor's ire.

"Terribly drab evening, isn't it?" She remarked absently.

Anyone wanting to put on a life vest, let me know. This will be a Mundane (rolling at or above your monster number) Dice Check and will require at least one success. Since this is not under a time crunch, I will be rolling two dice for each character attempting. If wearing a life vest, you will be given one additional die for any dice rolls where wearing the life vest would be an asset. 

Lucien

Lucien let out a long-suffering sigh, turning back to the professor. "Fine. I'm sorry." That you don't understand what words mean.

With that said, he sat down and crossed his arms, grabbing a life vest as he did so. Honestly, they shouldn't give these out so early. The ship wasn't sinking, it wasn't in any danger of sinking (...he hoped), so why give the life vests out now?

Well, that was a query for another time. For now, someone was talking to him, and it'd be rude to ignore her. "Indeed," he replied, turning to look at her—and nearly jumping out of his skin.

A...doll. A walking, talking, breathing, living doll. A homunculus? If so, where was the mage who'd made her? And why bring a homunculus to school? Unless it had gained sentience, but that was unheard of and—

He was staring, wasn't he?

Lucien straightened and cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "Apologies. You startled me. I am...not used to..." Social interaction. "Non-humans," he said instead.

Introduce yourself. People must know who you are.

"My name is Lucien Vaugeois," he said. "I am a mage of the Vaugeois family. Who might you be?"