Boarding School

[close] A strict boarding school with kids with special talents. Students are to sign in at the front entrance with Mrs. Berry. After that, student's are to go to their dorms.

[close] ❝sᴏ sᴜɪᴛ ᴜᴘ, ᴡᴇ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴜs.❞ Iᴛ sᴀʏs ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ. Tʜᴇ Sᴛʀᴀᴛᴇɢɪᴄ Hᴏᴍᴇʟᴀɴᴅ Iɴᴛᴇʀᴠᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ, Eɴғᴏʀᴄᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ Lᴏɢɪsᴛɪᴄs Dɪᴠɪsɪᴏɴ, ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴀs S.H.I.E.L.D, ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴇᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ʙᴏᴀʀᴅɪɴɢ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ғᴏʀ ɢɪғᴛᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜɴɢsᴛᴇʀs ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ. Tʜᴇ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ɪs ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sʜᴀᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴇɴʜᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ғɪɢʜᴛ ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇʀʀᴏʀɪsᴍ ɢʟᴏʙᴀʟʟʏ. Hᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ɪᴛ ɪs ᴅɪғғɪᴄᴜʟᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴅɪᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛᴄᴏᴍᴇ. Sᴏᴍᴇ sᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛs, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ɪᴛ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ, ᴡɪʟʟ ɢᴏ ᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ's ʟᴀʀɢᴇsᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛs. A ᴛᴇᴇɴᴀɢᴇ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Aᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀs & ᴄᴏ (ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜᴘᴇʀʜᴇʀᴏᴇs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴄᴜ) ᴀʀᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴛᴇᴇɴᴀɢᴇʀs. Tʜɪs ɪs ᴀ sᴇᴍɪ-ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇ-ᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪs sᴏʟᴇʟʏ Mᴀʀᴠᴇʟ. Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏɴғᴜsᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ DC! Mᴏsᴛ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛʟʏ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʙʟᴀsᴛ. ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇs ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴅ.

[close] "The School for young assassins has gotten out of hand. We have recruited you, the best and the brightest, to stop these juvenile murderers. You will train here, sleep here, and learn how to hunt an assassin. Think like an assassin. Act like an assassin. Become an assassin. Dismissed." Welcome to Assassin Hunters. A government organization founded for one purpose. Raise government bounty hunters to hunt down assassins. Loyal, elite, and skilled. Death to the assassins. (This is a joined group with The School For Young Assassins. You can start playing on either.)

[close] Dawn Farrow was dead. She hung from the crystal chandelier, her tiny neck snapped at a jagged angle. She lolled gruesomely back and forth, her tiny feet occasionally brushing against the chair that would have saved her life had it not been knocked aside in her final moments. Alas, it was too late to save her now, as indicated by the complete stillness of her chest. Her golden hair cascaded over her right shoulder, concealing the eye that nearly bulged out of its socket. Paralysed in the doorway, Elizabeth could only stand and stare, equally transfixed and horrified by the macabre pose. Her sister wore a floor length nightgown of pure white, which might have given her an angelic appearance were it not stained with blood. In the background, she could she just about register the mournful howls of her parents, the pleas of her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend that he had done all that he could to save her and a hundred games of Chinese Whispers all happening at once. She did not bother to acknowledge any of them. Lucas's pleas churned her stomach, her parents' wails shattered her eardrums and only one deep breath after another could prevent her from strangling those who, even now with her and her family present, would dare spread scandal about her sister. Her dead sister. Founded by Michael Farrow and ruled by his great granddaughter Elizabeth, Farrow Academy is a prestigious boarding school tucked away in the English countryside. Homed to the children of the world's wealthiest families, this is a place where scandal spreads like the plague and secrets are worth their weight in gold. But even if you can keep your secrets from the living here, who is to say that you can keep them from the dead?