Rowan Academy Staff

11:46 am: OOC: Faculty personality sketches
( ((OOC: Personality sketches of some of the faculty)) )

07:03 pm: Week 11, Saturday, 11/15 -- Rowan Academy Infirmary
((OOC: This follows this thread.))

Lady Jilena opens the door of the Infirmary, turning on the lights.

She opens the door that separates the waiting area from the rest of the building, gesturing to Peri and Mikal. "You two, follow me -- the rest of you, wait here."

07:14 pm: Early morning, Sunday, October 5, Lady Illyrie's apartments
Illyrie stands inside a carefully-inscribed circle, her athame in one hand and her wand in the other.

She sends her awareness outward, and discovers to her horror that her prisoner has grown strong enough to break some of its bonds. Sweet Dana, no! This cannot be!

She centers herself, reaching for the wellspring of power beneath the Academy. The power answers her call, suffusing her whole being with Glamour.

She weaves the energies into intricate ropes of pure Glamour, then sends them outward, toward her foe. The symbols inscribed on its prison glow brightly to her inner sight, and she draws power from them as well in her desperate attempt to reinforce the binding spell.

You will stay bound, monster! she silently vows.

08:39 am: Saturday night around midnight, week 5, Lady Illyrie's apartments
The Academy stands in ruins, the broken, bloodied bodies of her charges spread about like broken toys carelessly flung from a child's uncaring hand. Tears stream down her cheeks, her throat closing up with a mixture of shame and horror. NO!

Oh, YES, witch! a hollow voice resounds in her head. You will imprison me no more!

She doesn't even have time to scream before the thing she had bound engulfs her and devours her whole...

Lady Illyrie wakes with a cry, sitting bolt upright in bed. Hastily wiping the wetness from her cheeks, she dons her robes and takes up her athame and wand. She gathers the Glamour to her, determined that the terrifying tableau of her nightmare shall not come to pass.

08:10 am: OOC: Lady Jilena ni Liam, school nurse

11:18 am: OOC: More faculty pics!
( Behind a cut, because some of 'em are big! )

08:32 am: OOC: Lady Surya (Global Studies & Exotic Cultures)

10:23 am: Sunday, September 14, 2003 -- Lady Illyrie's apartments
She stood inside the circle, clad in a robe of silver silk, the silver torc hugging her throat and her athame in hand. The smells of incense and candle smoke filled her nostrils as she gathered up a wave of Glamour.

I will not fail the trust you placed in me, My Lady, she thought. It will stay bound!

She began to chant in a language older than recorded time; first slowly, and then faster and faster. She could feel the thing she was charged to guard stirring in its prison, and reached for more Glamour. No! You will not be free while I still breathe!

That fury fed her power, and she skillfully knitted the raw streams of Glamour into shackles that bound more surely than heavy chains. She mentally wrapped these around the creature over and over again, until it fell to the floor of its prison again, silent and still...at least for the moment.

Illyrie sank into a waiting chair, brushing perspiration-damp hair away from her brow. It's bound again...but for how long?

Silence was her only answer.

08:52 pm: In the Teachers' Lounge...
Dame Drusilla looks up from grading a stack of English essays as Sir Gunthar's huge frame fills the doorway.

"Friggin' computer messed up the schedules again," the troll mutters, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I had two girls in the boys' class, and a couple of boys in the girls' class." With a sigh, he sits down; the chair creaks, but holds.

"Andromeda did tell you that the computer was finicky when it got a lot of use," Drusilla ventures.

The troll grunts in acknowledgement. "I think they'll be able to fix it, at least."

Drusilla nods, picking up her red pen again. Imagining Gunthar's reaction to the mixup, she can't suppress a small grin.