The Drifting Dominion

In the great galactic expanse, where stars drift like cosmic confetti, there lurks an institution of unparalleled education—The Drifting Dominion, a college of cosmic influence. Think of it as a school built entirely around the concept of messing with people’s lives—but on a universal scale. This isn’t about learning to become a good diplomat or leader; it’s about rewriting history on a cosmic level. It moves from one world to another, leaving a wake of bewildered extraterrestrials in its path.
Forget ivy-covered towers and cozy libraries. The Dominion is basically a spaceship, more Ender's Game battle cruiser than Hogwarts. Comfort is a distant afterthought. It’s all business here, and that business is high-stakes historical meddling. Whenever the Dominion drifts into a new star system, students are sent out on your average class project: Infiltrating unsuspecting civilizations and messing with the course of history. Some missions are so top-secret that even the captain’s coffee orders are classified. These students aren’t just sitting in class, writing essays on alien politics—they’re living among these alien societies. Picture a kid who barely passed “Galactic Cultures 101” trying to negotiate an interplanetary trade deal, disguised as a local merchant in a robe that screams “I’ve never left the ship before.” One minute they’re haggling over space sheep, the next they’ve accidentally sparked an intergalactic incident because they didn’t understand the subtle difference between a handshake and a declaration of war. It's basically the Weasley twins given executeive power and let loose in the cosmos.
But don't neglect the faculty. These aren’t your typical tweed-jacket-wearing professors. Each one is a cosmic powerhouse, chosen because they’re supposed to know how to navigate this galactic mess. the faculty must contend with not only the fallout of their students’ decisions but also the occasional cosmic hiccup that leaves them questioning their own life choices. Imagine trying to maintain a sense of decorum while your student’s meddling causes a minor galactic war—or worse, a planetary fashion disaster.
Sure, these professors are supposed to be guiding the students, but even they can’t keep up with the sheer chaos that comes from students learning the fine art of “diplomacy” through trial and (mostly) error. Every lesson becomes a potential disaster, and the only thing guaranteed is that the Dominion will leave each planet different -- for good or ill -- than when it arrived.
At the Drifting Dominion, chaos is just part of the curriculum. And while the students might be shaping the future of entire civilizations, half the time they’re just trying not to get stranded on the wrong side of the galaxy. Because here, history is rewritten, futures are flipped upside down, and nobody is ever quite sure what’s going to happen next. The Drifting Dominion was born out of cosmic necessity—or cosmic hubris, depending on who you ask. The galaxy’s brightest minds once gathered to create a secret organization dedicated to studying and manipulating the vast, unpredictable forces of history across countless civilizations. Their initial goal? To ensure that the chaos of the universe didn’t spin entirely out of control, gently nudging worlds toward their “ideal” destinies.
But, like all things involving powerful people with good intentions, the project spiraled into something far more complex and questionable. Over time, these founders realized that they couldn’t predict how different societies would react to change. To adapt, they needed the help of flexible, unpredictable individuals—students. Thus, the Dominion transformed from an elite council of historians and manipulators into a traveling school for cosmic influence. It was no longer about just steering history—it was about giving the next generation the tools to reshape it, for better or for worse.

For Novelists and RPG GMs

Why limit yourself to one genre when you can squish all of them into the same story? The Drifting Dominion is a storytelling cheat code. Want to drop a medieval knight into a futuristic space colony? Easy. Need an alien philosopher to accidentally start a rebellion with a poorly timed thumbs-up? Done. Just call it "part of the lesson plan."
This place is a cosmic playground for chaos. You get to smash genres together, create epic disasters, and somehow claim it's all “for the curriculum.” It’s not just worldbuilding—it’s world-breaking, and you don’t even have to clean up the mess.
Allowed: Remixing online (give credit where credit is due), Free usage in personal games, Free usage in personal (unpublished) novels. Not Allowed: Remishing without attribution, Usage in public RPGs (videos, or streaming), Usage in public novels. note: There may be a time when I edit this article to allow for usage of this in public RPGs or novels, however currently that is not the case.
Cheers!

Professor Glindra Quasarbright

With a personality as sharp as a plasma blade and a hairstyle that screams "I’ve survived diplomatic negotiations in zero gravity,” Professor Glindra Quasarbright is a force of nature—and sarcasm. Her life mission? Make sure her students don’t cause planetary destruction by sheer incompetence. She’s a veteran of countless “oops, that was a declaration of war” incidents and prides herself on being able to talk her way out of (almost) anything. Rumor has it she once single-handedly convinced an entire planet that there world was shaped like a donut. She also teaches standard MLE formatting.
Her teaching motto: “If they start throwing plasma grenades, just smile wave!”

Zylix Kitrinn “Zee”

Perpetual Underachiever and Part-Time Chaos Magnet Zylix, or Zee, is the kind of student whose very existence feels like an experiment gone wrong. He once mistook an alien ambassador for a couch and sat on him. Twice. No one’s quite sure how Zee keeps passing his assignments—especially Zee—but he seems to have a cosmic knack for causing chaos and then getting out of it with an innocent shrug and a goofy grin. His latest debacle? He managed to insult an entire alien race by mispronouncing their word for "peace" as "pancake.”
Favorite excuse: “Hey, I didn’t mean to declare war! It’s just a really confusing handshake.”

Dr. Vorna Quirx

Dr. Vorna Quirx’s approach to teaching can only be described as “creative chaos.” Sporting outfits that make interstellar traffic lights look dull, she believes in letting her students figure things out the hard way because, as she always says, “A galactic crisis is just a learning opportunity in disguise.” Her lectures are a rollercoaster ride where one moment she’s explaining how to prevent an alien uprising, and the next, she’s encouraging students to start one “just for research purposes.” When questioned about her methods, she once famously replied, “History doesn’t remember cowards, but it definitely remembers the fools who blew up a moon. So choose wisely.”
Her catchphrase: “What’s the worst that could happen? Oh, wait, oops... I wasn't actually asking.”

Ithrax the Immaculate

Custodial Overseer (and Secret History Buff) No galactic institution is complete without the unsung heroes—the janitors. Ithrax, a towering figure of an indeterminate species, runs the custodial staff with the precision of a military operation. Ithrax’s obsession with cleanliness borders on the fanatical—every inch of the ship sparkles under his watch. But beneath that gleaming exterior lies a mind full of galactic history. He knows more about the worlds the Dominion has visited than most of the professors, and occasionally, his “cleaning” leads him to subtly tweak a few historical outcomes. After all, why let the students have all the fun?
His Unofficial Title: Star System Sanitation Expert

Leraen Vorn

Leraen Vorn isn't just the top of her class, she's almost top of the school. While her peers fumble through assignments and galactic blunders, Leraen is ten steps ahead, orchestrating events with the grace of a cosmic puppet master. She’s the kind of student who makes even the professors feel a little nervous when she raises her hand. Sure, she’s brilliant, but that brilliance comes with a side of “I might accidentally overthrow a government if I get bored.” Leraen once convinced an entire alien monarchy to adopt a political system based on her favorite board game—without breaking a sweat. The kicker? No one even realized she’d done it until the king started wearing a top hat and referring to his ministers as “pawns.” There’s a quiet debate among the faculty as to whether Leraen is a rising star or a potential supervillain.
Personal motto: “If you can’t change history, rewrite it in your own handwriting and pretend it was always that way.”

Type

Educational, University