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thefetchingfletcher‌:

Comparing Notes @lethargiicc

“Linhardt...” Leon mused under his breath. Since entering Fódlan, he’d quickly realized that not knowing a single thing about Crests was putting him at a huge disadvantage academically and socially. While Leon could infer they had something to do with bloodlines, he was in desperate need of a crash course.

Everyone had, without hesitation, named Linhardt as the local expert. Leon sighed with relief as he spotted a boy curled up in the sunshine, napping peacefully by the gardens. Linhardt’s soft green hair was unmissable as he slept with utmost peace on his face. A monastery cat seemed to have had the same idea, snoozing inches away from Linhardt in the grass. Leon clutched at his chest with delight. “Awwwwww, that’s so cute! The cats have accepted him as one of their own! It’s such a shame to have to wake him.

“Uh, hi? Linhardt? Sorry to ruin your beauty sleep, but I have to ask you some questions about Crests.”

It’s a good nap. One of the best that day, in fact. The sun is warm, the smell of grass and earth from below mingling nicely with the scent of flowers drifting out from the greenhouse. There’s peace in this tiny pocket of the world, big enough for only himself and the cat that had chosen to grace him with its presence. The world moves on around him at its usual exhausting restless pace, everyone always in such a hurry, but here in this patch of sunlight, there is peace.

At least, there was peace. Unfortunately, the serenity of an afternoon nap is a fragile thing, like butterfly wings or the calm surface of a pond. Even the slightest disturbance could rupture it so easily. In this case, that disturbance came in the form of a voice, gently calling his name and dragging him out of his half-formed dreams before he could fully sink into any of them. 

There’s a moment in which Linhardt wants to curl up like the monastery cat beside him and completely ignore this stranger’s presence. He could, if he chose to. It would be such a simple thing, really. Just roll over and disregard entirely.

But then the person above him mentioned crests and, for the first time that day, Linhardt’s interest was piqued. Slowly, The slumbering student cracked one eye open, squinting against the sunlight as he followed the voice up to find the face of the one who had produced it. 

Hm. He’s pretty, at least, and curious about something that matters to him. There are worse people to be awoken by, Linhardt supposes. That doesn’t mean he isn’t going to take his sweet time sitting up, though.

He yawns and stretches at the same time the nearby feline uncurls to do the same, giving a groan as he finally sits up. He crosses his legs in front of him and rests an elbow on one knee, using his hand to prop his head up by the chin before speaking.

     “ Hm...hopefully my next nap will make up for it. But you’ve come to the right place, I suppose. Or at least one of the right places. What do you want to know? ”

[lethargiicc-blog]

🌸!

      “ Hm? What do I think of Edelgard? This sounds like a trick question. You’re not going to report me to Hubert, are you? ”

Despite the words, the young man’s tone remains an unconcerned monotone as he reclines in the grass, looking up at the sky. “ I think she’s a very strong person. Not in the way that she swings her axe with enough force to split the earth in two, though I wouldn’t exactly doubt that either, but the kind of strength that has already been damaged and refuses to be so again. That kind of strength can be quite inspiring, I think, even to me at times. ” 

     “ Edelgard is also very determined. She has her goals, whatever they may be, and she believes in them with her whole heart. It’s like she can’t afford to fail, so she strives twice as hard as the next person. That kind of life is far too tiring for someone like me, but it is admirable, at least. You can’t expect others to support your ideals if you don’t believe in them yourself. ”

     “ And last, but definitely not least in my opinion, she knows who she is and she doesn’t request anyone’s permission to live accordingly. It doesn’t matter who you are, the only person who decides for Edelgard is Edelgard. ”

Linhardt allows his eyes to close and he raises a hand to wave the other person away. “ I’m done now. Goodbye. ”

[lethargiicc-blog]

Watercolor Avatar!

Tagged by: @vonvestra and @thefetchingfletcher

Tagging: ALL.

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Send 🌸 for three things my muse likes about yours.

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💋

//okay i really had to think about this one because Lin is super picky about kisses and would just NOT cooperate with the traditional meaning hdgjhfkj.//

“ Caspar, wait, I can’t keep up... ”

                                              “ There’s no time to wait, Linhardt! The sun is gonna set soon!  ”

A boy, no older than twelve, chases after a flash of pale blue hair amidst the trees, doing his best to avoid stumbling over the various stones and roots protruding from the soil beneath his feet. Linhardt is quicker on his feet than most would expect, but only when he has to be. Caspar, however, is a hurtling cannonball of a boy and is far more accustomed to sprinting his way through such inhospitable terrain. 

I should have stayed in bed...

It takes a few more minutes of running and an unfortunate fall into a pile of dead leaves but the taller boy finally catches up to his friend just as Caspar stops short. Linhardt doubles over, hands braced against his knees, and attempts to catch his breath until he considers something that bothers him. Why had Caspar stopped?

Slowly, Linhardt lifts his head and follows the other boy’s gaze only to wish he hadn’t. Blood. There’s blood on the road. Oh, goddess, why is there blood on the road...?

He and Caspar stand side-by-side where the tree line meets the road into town and right in front of them is an overturned wagon and a trail of blood leading around the side. And that sound...crying? Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Suddenly, Linhardt finds himself unable to breathe again.

                                                  “ ...We’ve gotta help...! ”

“ Wh-- Caspar, wait! ”

But, as before, there’s no time to wait, and Linhardt finds himself numbly following Caspar out onto the road, doing his best not to look at the splattered crimson as they seek out the source. The crying gets even louder as they round the corner of the wagon and Linhardt can feel his heart sink. 

Sitting against the side is a merchant, cradling his wailing son, a child of barely four, from the look of him. Linhardt can tell at a glance that they’re both injured and bleeding, most likely wounded in the crash. The child has what looks to be a nasty head wound and the father...his leg is most certainly not supposed to bed that way.

When Caspar speaks, he sounds miles away ( or perhaps it’s Linhardt who is miles away. He can’t tell. He can’t stop staring at the father’s leg. The child’s head. ) Caspar asks a question and the merchant replies. Something about thieves and the wagon crashing. 

Linhardt moves without thinking, approaching the injured family and kneeling in the dirt beside them. He reaches towards the child first, his fingertips glowing with soft white light, but the boy recoils sharply, sobbing, “ No!! don’t touch it, it hurts!! ”

Taken aback, Linhardt lets his hand fall back to his side, searching his mind for something else, anything else, he could do. He only knows one basic healing spell and it requires touch. 

Then, suddenly, he remembers something. A memory of his mother, hazy and vague from when he was very small. A papercut. A soft voice. A smile on a face he can’t quite remember anymore. And words...words that calmed him at the time, enough to allow his little injury to be treated, all because he believed these words. 

“It’s okay... I’ll kiss it better.” 

There’s a hint of recognition in the child’s eyes when Linhardt speaks that phrase and the wailing slowly softens into sniffles and hiccups as he looks up at him, cheeks stained with tears, and carefully nods.

Linhardt had never channeled his magic into anything but his hands before, but if he could heal the wound on the top of the boy’s head without too much trouble, it would be worth the effort. He leans over and gently presses a kiss to the crown of the child’s head, does his best to ignore the smell of blood, and focuses on the spell. 

After a terrible stagnant moment of nothing, he’s overwhelmed with relief as he feels his crest activate. The usual pale glow fills his vision, washing over the wound and sealing it closed. He pulls back once the spell is finished and forces a smile which the boy shakily returns as he reaches his hands up to feel where the injury had once been. 

“ There. All better. ”

The father is significantly more cooperative but Linhardt’s healing spell isn’t the strongest by any means. It takes the rest of his energy to repair the man’s leg enough for him to stand on it and by the time the two are walking down the road towards the town, The young noble can barely move. 

The sun has set, he’s drained himself of magic and the emotional toll that had taken on him is finally beginning to set in. All Linhardt wants now is to return home and sleep. Preferably for the next several days, at least.

He looks up from his seat on the ground to where Caspar stands and lifts an arm towards him. He makes a pawing motion in the air, beckoning his friend closer before uttering his perfectly reasonable request.

“.....Caspar, carry me.”

[lethargiicc-blog]

Out of all the critical, level and kill quotes for your character, which would you say is your favourite and why?

My favorite crit quote of his is “I might as well win.” I think the main reason for that is because my Linhardt oneshots pretty much everything so the fact that he says this while critical hitting is super funny to me? Like god, Lin, you were gonna win anyway. 

Level quote would have to be “Was any of this worth it?” Like, I know it’s because he got a shitty level up but also, it displays that thing I love about him? Where he very obviously does not approve of all the bloodshed and such and shows that even after 5 years of this hell, he’s still calling into question if all the lives sacrificed are really worth it. It’s a thing I appreciate because in my experience with these games very few characters are so ready to call out the war you’re fighting as costing more than it’s worth.

And then my favorite kill quote is “Huh...victory.” because honestly, he’s just so noncommital about it. It just sort of has an “oh. okay.” vibe to it. These ‘victories’ mean nothing to him. It’s just more blood on his hands so if you were expecting excitement, look elsewhere.

[lethargiicc-blog]

Ask the Mun for a Drabble/Fic of their Muse based on...

💋 - Their first kiss

☠️ - A near death experience

👓 🕶 - Their favorite memory with your Muse

🍧 - A silly scenario

💔 - A heartbreak

🖤 - The time they almost lost it completely

🐩 - Discovering their pet/favorite animal

🌈 - Their sexuality realization

🌪 - A quiet moment

⚡️ - A loud moment

🌚 - Their thoughts late at night

🌝 - Their thoughts early in the morning

🚨 - A terrifying scenario

⛺️ - Their first night away from their guardians

⛵️ - An accidental adventure

🔫 - A moment of crime

🎉 - A celebration

🎈 - Their most recent birthday

🎁 - An early birthday

💢 - A frustrating moment

🌠 - An idiotic scenario

[lethargiicc-blog]

perouette‌:

She’s very tempted to stick her tongue out in an expression of a sort of childish triumph over this stranger, until she notices that he’s also carrying a bunch of books–books on dark magic, the sort that she would very much like to read about. So that’s why it took so long! This hoggy hog book hog had taken them all! What a jerk! Her expression quickly turns sour as she examines the stack and all their tantalizing titles, which then itself morphs into a bratty sort of pout.

“Hey, I wanna read those too! Don’t hog all the books, meanie!” After this incredibly scathing insult, she thinks for a few seconds. There’s a chance this might come to blows if he doesn’t give what she needs–and normally, that’s fine. That’s a lot of fun, actually! She’d love to fight him, just not in a way that might get her kicked out of the library. She also wants to read those books, though…she might, unfortunately, have to work with this book-hog.

“Maybe…” She thinks for another moment. “Hey! What if when I’m done with this I’ll give you this, and you gimme one of yours? So we can both try this stuff out!” A flawless offer, in Peri’s opinion, a win-win situation. At the very least they could both be reading up on something at any given moment.

The name-calling almost makes him laugh. Almost. Laughing is exhausting though, so Linhardt doesn’t bother. He settles into his seat and sweeps his eyes over the spines of his book-tower before deciding on one and extracting it from its place. He decides to let this girl throw her tantrum without interruption, choosing instead to crack open the book and begin scanning the first written page.

Defending himself or arguing with her seemed as if it would be a waste of time, not to mention far too much effort to put forth just for being called a ‘meanie ’ and accused of ‘ hogging all the books ’. ( Really, he had committed no such crimes. He hadn’t known anyone else was in the library, let alone someone looking for the same subject material as he. He had no intentions of keeping these books away from anyone else. But why bother explaining when he could just...not? )

As his classmate approaches his table with her offer, it doesn’t take him long to nod in agreement. Anything to avert an argument and all the trouble that would come with it. “ A trade then? That’s fine by me. It’s not as if I can read them all at once. ”

Linhardt finishes the first page and turns it before he finally glances up from the tome to gesture towards his stack of reading material. “ Once you’re finished, take whichever one you like. ”

toil and trouble

[lethargiicc-blog]

fraldariius‌:

          that isn’t surprising. one glance and it’s easy to tell that linhardt isn’t handy with a weapon, at least not a physical one. his physique and everything about his posture screams it — it’s not unheard of for someone of a skinnier build to be handy with a weapon ( a certain boar prince comes to mind ), but it’s also not hard to tell mage stock from those who spend their time refining their muscles as well as their minds.

          ‘ fairly good with magic ’ — he scribbles it down beneath the name, unsurprised and seemingly undeterred by the banal trajectory of the conversation. he has no expectations of deep connection or lifelong bonds forged in a vapid reception social; the sooner he can drop this page into the exit basket and take his leave, the better.

          he pauses a moment longer this time, foraging for something simple enough to share — the moment he’s asked to conjure up facts about himself is precisely when there’s nothing to be found. more frustrating still: many of the things that come to mind, while hardly secrets, aren’t exactly facts he’d volunteer willingly to a stranger.

          ❝ i enjoy hunting, ❞ he offers at last with a gesture of his hand. ❝ i don’t expect much of a chance to do it here, but that doesn’t matter. And you? ❞

      He gives a quiet “ Hm. ” of acknowledgment and ‘ Hunts ’ becomes the next word Linhardt writes on his page, along with a small, lazy doodle of a bow and arrow beside it. He isn’t much of an artist but really why does it matter? He just needs something to help him focus on the conversation-- otherwise, his mind would easily drift elsewhere and he’d end up asleep at this table for the rest of the afternoon.

Not that such a thing was a problem exactly, but he would prefer to find somewhere else to nap the day away. Preferably a nice spot on the grass, in a warm patch of sunlight. Yes, that would be much better than sleeping at this table, surrounded by chatter. Maybe he could even convince some of the cats around the monastery to come nap next to him. That would be nice.

Speaking of--

“ Cats, ” comes his response as he blinks, pulling his focus back to the paper in front of him as well as Sword Boy’s presence at his table. There were other things he could have thought up, probably, but why do that when he could just go with what was already at the front of his mind? “ I like cats. I’m glad there are so many around here. ”

There. That counts as a fact, right? Right.

pomp and circumstance . open

[lethargiicc-blog]

10, 11, 18

roleplay themed munday!

10. what part of your muse’s canon is your favorite? which part made you fall in love with them and decide you were going to write them?

Honestly? The second I heard him react to killing someone for the first time. Like, don’t get me wrong, I loved him right from the start because honestly, he’s such a mood, but the moment I knew I wanted to write him was then and there. That entire trait is really one of my favorites of his. Just the fact that he hates fighting, hates doing harm, and he never grows out of that. One of my absolute favorite lines of his is when he declares that “this war will be the last time I ever step foot on a battlefield”. There’s just something so powerfully human about that I love him I love my boy.

An honorable mention is his supports with Dorothea! Love those convos.

11 answered!

18. what is your writing process? do you work in bursts of inspiration or have set times for writing? do you start drafts at the beginning or jump around? do you edit?

Oh boy my writing process is a hot mess, tbh. I’m definitely on a ‘bursts of inspiration’ basis with writing. I try to be like “okay we’re gonna write today” and then it just doesn’t work until my brain suddenly feels like it dgfjhdgjhgjdks. But once it does, I’ll throw on some music and start with drafts. Usually I like to get any asks I have out of the way first as like a warm-up? and then I’ll usually do the oldest draft first and work my way up. As for editing,,,,I really should?? but tbh I hardly ever do. I do, however, go back through and read my dialogue aloud to see if it sounds right and enough like the character’s voice for me to be happy with it. If I don’t like the way it sounds I’ll change it and re-read and so on until I’m happy.

[lethargiicc-blog]

3, 11, 17

roleplay themed munday!

3. what are your favorite ships for your muse and why?

LINSPAR,,,,,,, I’m not super picky with ships for Lin tbh? ‘Cause I would just love for him to be happy. But Linspar is definitely my favorite of favorites. Nothing gets me quite like childhood friends-to-lovers AND the whole opposites attract trope like damn, Linspar just checks all my boxes I love them. And don’t even get me started on their joint ending okay like. My boys my sons

Aside from that, I can probably enjoy most Lin ships but I do prefer the ones where he’s paired with impulsive boys with zero braincells because really, I love when one of the smartest people in the academy has a weakness for absolute morons.

11. which part of your muse’s canon is your least favorite? or are there any parts you struggle to understand or rationalize in your own writing?

Hmmm..........Honestly, I think I enjoy Lin in his entirety? He’s very well-written imo and very unique. I suppose I would have liked him to have more supports outside his house? Because I love content like that. He’s not social, I know, but even so, I just want to see him interact with more characters, I can’t get enough of him.

As for understanding and rationalizing: maybe it says something about me as a person, but I don’t struggle to understand him at all. He’s mean, gay and tired and honestly I’ve definitely been there. (I mean, he’s way more than that too, but LISTEN )

17. how much does your depiction of your muse deviate from canon? do you base most of them in canon, or have you taken some liberties?

I try to stick as close to canon as I can but there are definitely things that aren’t gone into that deeply so I flesh them out myself. For example, Lin’s father: I’ve incorporated a headcanon that he had very high expectations of Linhardt, built from bits and pieces of canon, such as their family’s status, the fact that Lin bears a crest, the fact that Lin is his heir, and even just? The fact that he named him something that means “Lionheart”?? Like?? That’s so needlessly prestigious?? 

And so, the fact that Lin makes no effort to meet any of those ambitions definitely puts a strain on their father & son relationship. He doesn’t necessarily hate his father and his father doesn’t necessarily hate him, but they don’t understand each other and neither of them really makes an effort to.

[lethargiicc-blog]

roleplay themed munday 

1. of all the muses you’ve written for, do you have a favorite? what makes them your favorite?

2. are there any muses you have wanted to write for, but would be scared to try?

3. what are your favorite ships for your muse and why?

4. have you ever written a scene that made you cry? which one?

5. have you ever written a scene that made you laugh out loud? which one?

6. is there a muse you find particularly difficult to write? easiest?

7. which of your threads would you most like to see made into a movie?

8. do you have a thread that consistently challenges you or has challenged you in the past? why? additionally, what kind of situations / threads are difficult for you as a writer, or for your muse?

9. what’s one character trait you have in common with your muse? one trait you don’t have in common?

10. what part of your muse’s canon is your favorite? which part made you fall in love with them and decide you were going to write them?

11. which part of your muse’s canon is your least favorite? or are there any parts you struggle to understand or rationalize in your own writing?

12. is there anything about your character that you’ve never explored, but would like to?

13. what is your relationship with your muse? are they usually cooperative or stubborn? are they easy to write for or is it a challenge?

14. what’s one thing you dislike about your muse? one thing you find admirable?

15. what’s your favorite thing about writing for your muse?

16. is there anything you do to prepare for writing your muse? what do you do to summon them if they’re not present?

17. how much does your depiction of your muse deviate from canon? do you base most of them in canon, or have you taken some liberties?

18. what is your writing process? do you work in bursts of inspiration or have set times for writing? do you start drafts at the beginning or jump around? do you edit?

[lethargiicc-blog]

[lethargiicc-blog]

fraldariius‌:

          ❝ i agree, ❞ comes the approving response as felix rests the hand holding the flimsy sheet of parchment on his hip and regards the other student with a tilt of his head. ❝ why come here if not to get stronger? obligations like this just get in the way. ❞ but something about the other boy’s attitude bothers him, too — the soporific look on his face, the passive posture. if he dislikes this so much, then why make no apparent effort to leave? instead, he’s just sitting there idle, looking like the very life is being drained from him and he has no choice in it.

          it doesn’t seem like he’s going to take any initiative, and standing around complaining about the situation isn’t in felix’s interest, so after another moment, he takes his seat a reasonable ways away from the other boy at the end of the table and sighs. ❝ let’s get this over with. you’re count hevring’s son, aren’t you? ❞

          he jots down as such on the page; this academy is swimming with people of prestige, which at least means that it’s not hard to put names to faces. he’d never cared for titles and memorizing stations, but, even growing up as he had, there were some things he’d had to know, even if just to avoid making a fool out of himself.

          ❝ i’ll start. i’m skilled with a sword. i’ve held one since i could stand. your turn. ❞

Oh. This young man knew him? He must be nobility then, of some sort. Other nobles always seemed to be able to put family names to faces with relative ease like that. 

Linhardt, however, found such information to be completely disinteresting- much to his father’s chagrin. He’d never understood why declining to learn something so trivial was regarded as the height of embarrassment, but then again, perhaps that’s just one of the many reasons politics didn’t suit him.

For example, he had absolutely no idea who this other boy was. He barely knew who anyone was, really. 

He sighed, nodding in response as he extracted the pen from behind his ear and smoothed the parchment out on the surface of the table. “ That’s me. Family disappointment but I prefer Linhardt. ”

He gave a thoughtful hum, considering the other student’s words before quickly jotting down ‘ sword boy ‘ on the page. It was much easier to write short, simplified versions of his statements than to transcribe them word for word. Not to mention, it gave him something to call this person in his mind until he learned his name.

“That’s...impressive, I suppose. I don’t have anything like that, but...” Linhardt glanced over to ‘Sword Boy’ before his eyes drifted away again, considering what sort of facts about himself there even were to share. “I’m...fairly good with magic? Your turn again.”

pomp and circumstance . open

[lethargiicc-blog]

perouette‌:

@lethargiicc

It was a little bit of a frustrating experience finding out where, exactly, the books on dark magic were kept, with Peri being forced to wander most of the monastery before discovering the library–but now that she’s here, she can see that there’s gonna be a ton of things she can learn at this place! After all, just look at all these books! Just look at…all these…hm.

Now that she’s solved the problem of finding the books, she’s got a new problem of not knowing where she’s supposed to start here. Just glancing at some nearby spines she can tell some books are on the history of the continent and their church or whatever–and that’s boring! Who wants to read about that stuff when she knows there’s gotta be some hefty, painful black magic to study up on somewhere in this library? And it’s a school, so she knows she’s probably not gonna be lucky enough to have a ton of picture books on the boring stuff around there.

Thus begins Peri’s walk around the library, more or less in circles, encountering a more or less mixed bag of topics but none that are the object of her desires right now–until, at last, she hits the jackpot. It’s at a bit of a lower level than she’s practiced with already, but there’s nothing wrong with refreshing your memory, right? Especially when practice is as fun as it usually is with dark magic! But, of course, when her hand shoots out to take the book, it collides with someone else’s–someone else’s who she hadn’t really noticed, absorbed in her search as she was.

“….Gimme.” Her cheeks puff out in annoyance, in tandem with a frown dawning on her face. “It’s easy enough that I’ll be refreshed with it quick anyways, so gimme.”

To be perfectly fair to the other student, Linhardt hadn’t noticed her either. At least, not until their hands collided upon the spine of the book.

The young man frowned, his brow furrowing as he quickly retracted his hand from hers. He doesn’t care for physical contact, especially when he isn’t expecting it, and the childishly demanding tone she had taken was already making him want to go back to his room and nap.

But no. He dragged himself out of bed this morning to read and that’s exactly what he intended to do.

That didn’t mean, however, that he had the energy to argue over a single black magic primer with a stranger.

     “Fine, fine, knock yourself out. I’ll just skip the basics, then.” He sighed and turned his back on her, carrying the other books he’d plucked from the shelves with him to the nearest table. He’d been here for at least an hour already, picking out everything and anything that looked even remotely interesting. There had to be something in his pile to keep him occupied until this person was finished, even if it meant forgoing the refresher he would have liked. 

     “Just let me know when you’re finished and I’ll read it after you.” Honestly, why is everyone always in such a hurry?

toil and trouble

[lethargiicc-blog]

[lethargiicc-blog]

fraldariius‌:

          the thousand year old walls of the monastery’s reception hall echo with the chaos of movement and the loud, incoherent babble of countless conversations all the way up to its arched ceiling. the tables that line the sides, which would come to be hubs of respite and gossip alike for students in the coming year, are for the time being arranged in a different fashion, opening up the center of the large space as much as possible. students and faculty, young and old, mingle in a throng — a familiar face here, an undesired one there.

          if there are thoughts, impressions, running through the young man’s mind as he enters and surveys the ever-shifting crowd, his expression gives no quarter. a passive alertness, something halfway between dismissal and curiosity, as confident as it is receptive, rests in the lines of his face.

          he doesn’t intend to stay here longer than he needs to.

          the reception’s purpose becomes all too clear within moments as he passes by a table stacked with pen and parchment, administration standing with encouraging smiles and urging him to find someone, preferably someone he’d never met, and write down three facts about them.

                                                                   ❝ … this is ridiculous. ❞

          and yet there’s a hint of wry amusement to the quirk of his lips as he picks up the offered utensils and turns around to assess a potential target.

          — it’s then that his ears pick up the tail end of a remark coming from off to his left. they’d only been talking to themselves, it seems, but it sounds like they have something to say about this obligatory social event.

          ❝ receptions like this are a chore, ❞ he comments loudly enough for them to hear as he approaches their turned back. ❝ i’d much rather be training than wasting my time with idle chatter. wouldn’t you? ❞

     “ annoying... ”

surrounded by the churning, shifting crowd of his peers, Linhardt couldn’t help but bemoan his situation, even if only to himself. He had been granted little choice in the matter of taking the pen and parchment offered to him, but getting up from his seat and actually doing anything with it was another matter entirely. That was fully within his own control and he had decided almost instantly that he would not be doing anything of the sort.

As far as he was concerned, this spot on the bench, closest to the far right wall of the reception hall, was his new best friend. If anyone wanted to approach him for this task, that was up to them. 

With a sigh, the young man tucks the pen behind his ear and leans his head against the solid stone beside him. He could be reading right now, or sleeping, or anything but this. Being social on his own terms was exhausting enough, but being urged to be social was even worse.

The voice from behind him catches him off guard, though his lack of energy covers his surprise rather easily. He lifts his heavy head to glance over his shoulder at the other student approaching him and offers a slow, noncommital shrug.

     “ I’m not much for weapons, personally, but I can agree that these events are easily some of my least favorite things. If I wanted to talk to people, I’d just do it. I came to the academy to avoid social obligations, not gather more. ”

pomp and circumstance . open