#◈ egittae

[txmehunting]

"you."

can i help you?

[twistedisciple]

Lambert stared at the guy. He had never seen this dude before, and honestly he seemed the type that would blend in well with the folks of the Abyss. Maybe it was the lack of clothing, maybe it was the chains, maybe it was the inherent aura of basement he exuded. And yet…and yet something in him set Lambert off a little bit. He wasn’t sure why, but…something in there just didn’t match with the professor’s own compass.

So, first came the disapproving parent stare. Then a pause, some consideration. Arched eyebrows, a nod…yeah, he was trying to figure out where to place this guy. 

“Your tattoos look cool, that is all I am gonna say.”

Griss is minding his own business. He’s been minding his own business since he got here, and right now he’s not really doing anything except whittling the end of a stick he found with the sharp edge of a rock. For fun, of course. (And maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll get to stab someone with it later) But sitting out here under the shade of one of the palm trees growing along either side of the entrance to the dormitories, no one can say he’s bothering anyone.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Soft wood peels away in curls and drops to the ground around his feet. Every now and then, he stops to admire the point, to test it with his fingertip, but it’s never quite sharp enough. He keeps scraping away until he feels the weight of eyes on him. Brows furrow, attention shifting to his periphery as his whittling slows but doesn’t yet stop. Could be nothing. Could be Yunaka finally trying to make good on her threats.

Feet approach him, and his eyes raise from royal blue wrap to chiseled body to the disapproving face of some regal, lion-maned fellow he’s never met before. One brow rises as Griss sits back, one hand on each knee, makeshift knife under one and handmade spear under the other.

For a beat, they simply stare at each other in silence.

”… But you got more you want to say, don’t ya?” he asks at last, his lips curling with a smile. There’s no point sitting anymore, and this spear’s as good as it’s going to get so, twirling it in one hand, he stands up and takes an ambling step closer. “Like how you want a few yourself, right? Lucky for you, you found the right guy for that.”

[ulircursed]

Wow Andrei

It's a normal day for Hector, seated in the Blue Lions classroom. Nothing breaks the silence save the scritching of pens against paper and the occasional shuffling of seats along the wooden ground.

Suddenly, he hears a roar, barely audible for its distance, seemingly coming from directly below his feet.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENTTTTTTT------!!!!!!!!"

Hmm. Sounds like it would've been terribly loud, if he were any closer. (to the ground?????)

Oh well. The day goes on as usual.

[machiot]

@egittae sent:

It wasn’t always that Lambert got to see Marni, much less actually talk to her. The girl seemed quite adamant in not coming to class and always seemed busy in one way or another despite the professor’s pleas, but in the end he wouldn’t force anyone to attend his lessons. After all it wasn’t as if the Ashen Wolves were an actual class with an actual academic program- it was just their group and nothing more.

However, he had to admit that he often thought about her. All abyssinians had their reasons as to why they chose to hide from the world and that definitely included Marni, but the professor could only wonder how a girl so young ended up like that. He wouldn’t pry, but he did, genuinely, want to reach out. Or try to.

This was his best chance, at least. “Good to see you, Marni. Your performance in the game was quite impressive, you did extremely well!” Even if they were from another team, he did have to admit that seeing Marni and Lyon in the top positions brought a smile to his face. “Even if we belong to rival teams- and even if you refuse to come to class…in the end I still view you as my student. And as a result, your victories and your progress bring me much joy.”

“Great job, Marni. I am proud of you for being able to come this far into the games.”

With blond hair and light blue eyes, a casual observer might look between the two of them and imagine some sort of kinship. Father and daughter. Uncle and niece. Maybe even distant cousins with a generation gap between them.

Ironically, that same passing resemblance is the very reason Marni feels like she's on pins and needles every time he talks to her.

His appearance dredges up unpleasant feelings that she'd rather tamp down. No, rather than feelings, what she wants to tamp down are memories. Memories of useless brothers and a mother who only ever held her hand once, all blond haired and blue eyed.

(Her other family was better precisely because they didn't look like her at all.)

"'Come this far'? What, did you think I was some pathetic little weakling?" Marni furrows her brow and rests her hands on her hips. Is this guy looking down on her? Like she's some loser? "Of course I made it this far! It's because I'm stronger than everyone else that no one can even touch me! I won both last week and this week, so I'm totally gonna win next week, too!"

What happened the first week was only a fluke! If that stupid dragon hadn't been there, she would've swept that game without even breaking a sweat. It was bad luck, that's all.

...If it had just been anyone else.

Marni shakes her head, sending her ringlets bouncing, "Keep piling on the praise, but you're still not getting me to go to class! I'm not taking classes from someone worse at games than me!"

[rafent]

“Forgive me for the absolute chaos that developed soon after your entrance. I assure you that a…generalized knife fight was not in the plans. Anyway…make yourself at home. As much as you are able to, at least.”

“As for your situation with Professor Alfred, it is not my business so I shall not pry. But I will say, if anything happens, you have my support. I know you are a capable individual and that you most likely do not need someone to protect you, but…some support, even if moral, is good. Enjoy your stay.”

Though he did look like he went through hell, Lambert smiled softly. Who knew that he'd be talking like this to the man that moons ago he had been reprimanding at the Ethereal Ball.

The past few hours rife with a great many happenings, ever quickly could one outcome escalate to another. Confrontation, force, anguish, estrangement; nothing that evaded expectation for a Fell Dragon, much less one like Rafal who had meticulously, and painstakingly, once prepared those misfortunes as a spider would a web. However, this time they were not of his making, and he did not relish in the sensitive aftermath that settled afterward.

Busying his hands, burdened of mind, the dragon staking his claim over the empty bed adjacent to Griss' halted only at the other man's approach. Measly distractions abandoned. "There is no need for apology, Lambert. If we should speak of facilitating chaos, I believe I am even more responsible. Once more, you have my regrets that my affairs have brought your people into their crossfire."

Indeed; that Alfred should chase Rafal, that their waves should reach as far as these shores, the consequence had been a sea of utmost turbulence. But no matter that circumstance, still Lambert would offer his well wishes and - to Rafal - even an inch more. His quiet consideration succeeded the man's overture, an extension of good will that he knew to be sourced from unwarranted kindness. A kindness that he, reversely, did not recall demonstrating toward him during the ball.

"You would treat me well in spite of our first meeting, and even sympathize with my plight," he noted observantly, others lulled into easy acceptance of cordial sentiments and gentle smiles, whereas a child of Gradlon could only offer awe and vocal suspicion. "Such is unmerited, considering what troubles I have wrought for you then and now. But." The dragon's bashful glance moved untoward, sidelong and without meeting.

Curiously fixated on the ground. ". . .It goes greatly appreciated, nonetheless."

[quartzhearted]

[ Makeup Parlor ] [ sephora parent edition ]

"Alright, like the kids these days say...get those eyebrows on felek on something." He's a bit drunk, but determined. What he'll do though is left to the Goddess to decide.

"You're not escaping until I'm done."

"eh? the eyebrows on what? hey, be ca--!"

morion is nice and refreshed, with a bruise-free cheek and some more snacks in him. he's decided to stick to surveillance for the night so he doesn't miss out on any trickery he's supposed to put a stop to.

but everybody knows there can't be normalcy here, right?

suddenly he's accosted by lambert once again, but this time the guy seems a bit loopy. he must have had a bit more to drink than morion's seen. that's fine; dragons know morion does it often enough.

he does not, however, expect lambert to drag his arse down to a makeup parlor and essentially trap him in there. what?

now he's here. morion certainly prides himself on appearance and makes sure his beard is well-trimmed, but he's not sure what lambert is referring to here. is he going to shave his eyebrows off? is that what a felek is?

"uh... go easy on me?"

[blaiddllodi]

[ water ]

“Kid, are you okay? Like genuinely so?” Lambert had met this boy exactly…maybe four? Five times? In nearly all of those he seemed to have this haunted look behind his eyes which always left the professor wondering what could’ve caused it. Seeing him from afar he seemed fine, a friendly prince with an easy smile. But as soon as he got a closer look…

…well, now the kid looked like he had just seen a ghost in full resolution, and Lambert worried that he might pass out on the spot. Something about that look in his eyes made his heart break a little bit, though he wasn’t sure why. 

Maybe he had an idea why.

But it sounded ridiculous to his own mind.

“Drink some water and rest for a moment, will you? You look horribly pale, boy.” The party had just started too, did he manage to get plastered in record time somehow without Lambert noticing?! "I shall stay here until you look like you are not going to drop dead. Just rest."

Dimitri had come to recognize the voice when it spoke, not through any will of his own or any attempt at recognition, but because there was a section in his mind which had already seemed reserved for the sound, the rumbling timbre scratching a particular itch that he hadn't even been aware of until he heard it and felt the breath come out of him.

When he turned to greet the professor of Abyss, it was with a smile on his face, but the smile stuttered and flickered from his face for a moment -

"Mitya, drink some water, rest for a moment - you look - "

"Horribly pale, boy."

"A-ah?" He cleared his throat, fingers closing around the glass of water on instinct. "Do I? Perhaps I have been sleeping poorly..." He did not think that it had been much more poorly than any other night, but if this stranger came to him with such concern, he would not brush it aside so carelessly.

He forced the smile back onto his face, turning subconsciously to the warm glow of lights from the ballroom and taking a gentle drink of the proffered water. "I'm quite well, though, I assure you! It is a lovely night, and I would be loath to miss it!"

It was a lot of pomp and display, if he were being truthful, but there's no reason for him to extend this burden for this professor to shoulder - what need have he to bear it in the first place? It was for Faerghus, in the end, and so it was Dimitri's alone.

"You are too kind. Please, if you've other guests to attend to, I'm not so frail that I'm defeated by such an event as this."

[albwreckt]

"You are a tall one, boy! But you gave me an idea for a financial responsability class."

"And you're an old one, pal! But if I show up to your money-management thing, would you slide a guy some extra credit? I, uh, bent my last lance."

[sayhwaet]

[ mint candy ] + [ fake mint candy ] (except it's like those harry potter beans in which one is great and the other is rancid but both look the same)

So, he was given two of those funny looking candies- both looking exactly the same and smelling the same at least. He had heard some students talking about how it was a challenge, or well…a dare more like it. Each person gets a candy and depending on who has the Goddess’ blessing may end up with just a nice, tasty mint. The unfortunate soul however gets a small piece of soap that looks disturbingly close to mint, and the rest is history.

Exciting, though also mildly worrying as to why the kids are eating soap at the party. He’d think about that later.

“You are a tough knight, are you not? Then let us give this silly game a try.” Lambert reached out so the other blonde- a rough looking dude with quite the updo, who although being a knight did resemble more like the average merc in the professor’s eyes. “One is a nice mint, the other is soap. Whoever gets the bad one has to get the other a drink. A decent exchange, if I do say so myself.”

Was Lambert ready to eat soap at the party? Definitely not. But if he was going to watch those kids all night then he might as well have some fun.

(roll 1d2 for mint disaster 1= good mind 2= bad mint)

Ho?

Beowolf was no stranger to parties that needed mints - hell, probably needed 'em himself, if he planned on getting close to anybody - but the idea that there might have been another side to that coin that would punish a man for wanting to get fresh - bah! A rough lot to get, for sure.

Not that he wouldn't make it work if needed. He'd never heard any complaints one way or the other.

"Hell, you got me! 'Tough knight' atcher service. Ain't gonna run scared just 'cause of some breath mints. Better have your wallet handy, sir, I got the feelin' you'll rack up quite a tab on my behalf."

With a jaunty grin, he tapped his fingers against the back of one of the man's hands, snatching the candy and popping it into his mouth -

Augh - !

A tremor worked through his jaw as he sucked on the treat, and a rush of bitter, sour, sweet, cool and hot all at once traveled across his tastebuds and coated every inch of his mouth.

Was it literally fucking soap? What in Hodr's musty - ?

"Ah," he bit out, mimicking the sigh one might have taken after the crispest, coldest drinks of water. His grin barely felt forced as it tweaked across his features. "Now that's fresh. Feelin' just about ready to pucker up, how about you? Maybe it'll take that drink, hey?"

[gainfuldagger]

🍪 [no kiss!]

"The students above ground are going around doing some form of game involving this sweet treat...I do not understand why exactly, but alas." It also involved some kissing which...was a choice. Lambert nevertheless handed one of the cookies to Metodey.

"I was given a box of these, so I shall hand them to my students. Enjoy."

metodey's brow raises as his professor brings him... a cookie.

it's so mundane that, at first, he almost doesn't even acknowledge it. it's a thin, long cookie covered in what appears to be chocolate. it's nothing special, but why on earth is this m---

" the student above ground are going around doing some form of game involving this sweet treat. " aha, there's the reason. a game? involving these things? is it to see who can poke the other's eye out first? who can steal the other's cookie thing and eat it?? and why today?

no matter. metodey is no fool---if he is given something for free, he will take it. presumably it is not poisoned and it smells... normal. so, well, it's free food. he grasps the candy by its bare side, inspecting it before popping it into his mouth.

" ...odd games, i am sure, " he muses in response to lambert's speculation. " though if it entails free food, then... "

...hm hm hm...

[boundlesschaos]

[ garden ]

Though he was there to supervise the students, Lambert still withheld the right to wander around and leave the ballroom every now and then for the sake of his own wellbeing. He truly did enjoy parties, but if there was one thing he did notice was how his body grew restless fairly quickly, urging him to walk around- and that was how he found the garden. A genuinely lovely place, really. Ideal for a romantic date.

But he was there for no date. Actually the person he did spot was one that spooked him in surprise, earning a pointed finger from the professor. “You!”

That girl- blazing eyes, her face always obscured, dark hair. She was one of his students…or at least was supposed to be. Lambert knew she existed, but almost never spotted her himself. “So, you have been skipping my classes have you not? Smart, but now I shall keep a close eye on you, young lady.”

His indignation lasted for maybe a solid 10 seconds, before he chuckled and sighed. “It is fine, though do come to class every now and then, will you? You go by Niamh, correct? If you tell me what you enjoy to learn, perhaps I can adjust my classes to better fit your learning habits.”

Though there were many curiosities among the crowd of people, Niamh was still a person who required a retreat from the loud and vibrant dance hall. She had taken a trip to the gardens to rest her racing mind, gather her thoughts so she can thrust herself back into the battlefield that she's set upon herself-

Wait, hold on, huh? What? Who?

Niamh's initial reaction to Lambert's remarks is a prolonged stare. Starting at first puzzled and surprised herself, it eventually settles to one of intrigue. A soft gasp of recognition breaks her silence.

"Right, you're..." Whoops. Niamh does try her best, but her interests often find herself in the fields, the mountains, anywhere but the classroom itself. She really does forget sometimes that going to class is a required expectation out of her. Her memory of her teachers are no better.

She does decide to entertain an answer, though. It's a comfortable subject for her to discuss. "...I've been researching some of the flora and fauna...and locating anything that may be out of place. I study them to determine if their abnormalities are born through genetics or magical interference..."

She kneels down, examining one of the flowers in the garden. They're small, fragile little things - something Niamh takes care not to harm. "If it is through magic, I can apply that knowledge into my studies...there's still a lot we don't know about it..." her eyes wander back towards the other; "And a lot that can only be found through travel."

Still, she won't say no to joining in on classes sometimes. So she decides to make that known. "...it's been a little bit since I've been in a classroom though. A change of pace would be nice..."

She's missing the point but, you know. It's the thought that counts, right?

[txmehunting]

"Boy, you look like you are about to pass out...while I would usually advise you to calm down or rest, I cannot trust that you will do as I say and therefore must take you somewhere calm, preferably the nurse's office. Do not resist." And there he goes, wrapping Senno in a blanket. Senitto.

haha... yes... sennō's power is returning, bit by bit... as he sits in this random corner of the ballroom, plotting the demise of many an adversary, why, he even thinks he's starting to shake less! ahh, his little happy place is this dim, untouched corner of the massive hall where nobody is coming to bother him ( except for that little waiter child ). nothing could go w

SOMEONE IS PICKING HIM UP SOMEONE IS RESTRAINING HIM SOMEONE IS MOVING HIM FROM HIS HABITAT! HIS BABITAT!!!! HIS HATIBAB!!!!!!!!! BABBF!i!h!ihIFH!!ESTHL3949!)(@)!!(#@

"WHAT?! WHATTTTTTT?!?!" sennō suddenly thunders, shakes becoming great landshatter quakes and face burning more crimson than his eyepaint. "WHO! WHO IS TOUCHING MEEEEEEE??!??!?!?! PUT ME DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWN!!!!!!! PUUUUUUUUUUT MEEEEEEEEEEEE DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

wait! he's a student! he's a student! they should care about students' wellbeings, right?!?! "HEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!!!! I'M BEING KIDNAAAAAAAAAAAAPPED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SOMEONE IS TAKING ME FOR NEFARIOUS PURPOSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

[twistedisciple]

continued from here

So this guy’s got an angle after all. Truthfully, Griss would be more suspicious if he didn’t, but it’s not everyday that he meets someone fearless? daring? stupid? enough to want to get up close and personal with a wolf like that. And if this is some roundabout metaphor, then he knows even fewer people willing to have that dance with danger with him. An out-of-place serenity smooths his face as he looks ahead again, leading them both down a well-worn path back toward the center of the island, presumably toward the dormitories, and he nearly makes a quip about how Lambert must not have gotten bitten yet when the man’s revelation shuts him up before he can even start.

A dragon? Griss’ skips a step over a vine.

”Hold on.” He cuts a ‘stop fucking with me’ look over his shoulder. “Lemme make sure we got the same definition of a ‘dragon.’ Big, scaly thing with fangs as big as my hand, yeah? Can swallow a grown man whole?”

He stops and turns around, eyes the scar on the man’s shoulder. Sure, the guy’s got a few more of them, too, and sure, he looks pretty strong, but he’s in one piece. After a moment, Griss’ sneer comes back.

“Look, you don’t gotta impress me. Just say you got nipped by an overgrown lizard.” A shrug and he turns around again. “Doesn’t make a difference to me. You’re gonna be begging for a real dragon to eat you up once I’m done with you.”

He starts to laugh. “Or maybe it’ll get you the answer to that question. Why does pain fascinate me so much? Just lemme show ya—“

Whirling around, Griss swings the pocket knife he’d been using to chisel his coconut across Lambert’s chest.

@egittae

[ulircursed]

Now that the game had reached its end, Lambert could finally focus on thinking straight. And first of all…he needed to clear up something. Still smeared in clown makeup- though he had already discarded the frilly accessory that had been placed around his neck, he approached Andrei. “You and Kliff did well out there. Great job. Ah…well, I must also apologize for my reply to you before, it was a tad dry…as you saw, I was not exactly at my best condition.” That was an understatement.

“But there is something else I would like to talk to you about. I…” He still remembered how he had hugged the young man and felt him shuddering- crying in his arms. “...what happened, Andrei? I only heard some rumors and stray words in regards to you and some girls, in particular Bernadetta. Just…what happened?”

By the time the other pair exited the maze for the final time (quicker, he notes, than the first time they'd entered), Andrei had dismounted, a hand combing listlessly through Buttermilk's mane for lack of anything better to do. He looks up, slightly startled at the fact that Professor Lambert's face still looked like that — does the paint not come off?? — before shaking his head at the other's words.

"There is nothing to apologize for," he says quietly. As Lambert continues with his question, though, Andrei lowers his head, taking an involuntary step closer to his steed, eyes glued to Buttermilk's mane as though it held the answers to all his problems.

"...It's nothing to be concerned about," he finally answers. He'd all but fled from Lambert's sight the moment he had calmed enough to do so, and had hoped his air of nonchalance would simply bury the interaction in both their minds, but of course, that is an absurd wish. Of course he'd ask.

"Bernadetta and I have... come to an agreement." And that part isn't even false, though it's probably the only one of his interactions in the previous weeks that had a positive outcome. Andrei closes his eyes, letting out a slow exhale. "The previous weeks have been... taxing, is all," he admits carefully, still not meeting the professor's gaze, "I— I'm sorry for losing my composure in your presence, Professor."

[machiot]

@egittae sent:

"Marni..." She was one of the more difficult ones to handle. A strong and confident girl for sure with skill dripping from the blade of her ax, but impossible to get to class or discipline. "What is this scheme I hear of trying to take another teacher's shirt? You do not need me to tell you that this is not good..."

He crossed his arms. "How about we stop that and find something less...potentially troublesome to pass time with? Something that does not involve stealing people's clothes? How about you show me your ax technique?"

Uh oh, here comes the fun police to shut her down.

"What? No way," Marni says bluntly. "I was promised a whole mountain of praise if I pull this off. Besides, I can have you tell me how great I am with an axe any other day, but today is special! I'm not gonna have an opportunity like this again!"

This guy had been a major pain in her side ever since he showed his sorry face. What use did she have for all those stupid classes? She knows she's strong already and if she wants to get even stronger, experience has taught her that she'll need to do it on her own. Everyone else... is just a bunch of weaklings who would hold her back.

"Besides, me and His Kingliness go way back! I even knew him back when he was still just a prince, so don't butt in to a little joke between buddies. Or what, you're some kinda killjoy that hates friendship?"

She would not describe herself and Diamant as friends, like, ever, but this guy didn't need to know that.

[rafent]

"Does it hurt to be polite...to your students, mister? It is not ideal to throw words like these around so carelessly at youngsters you should be supervising." He had heard the...uhm...harlot comment, and couldn't help but find it in himself to try to intervene. "Have respect!

A pause. Then he crossed his arms. "Besides, it is not like you have that much property to complain about her body or way of dress, so..." He made a single motion with his hand- flat. Nothing else had to be said.

Black swallowed white and all view of the ceiling above, eclipsing the crystal chandeliers as if smog had been smeared across an artificial sun. Surroundings darker, dragon colder, Rafal remained unflappable at the roost of a tall shadow over his seated form with pale head fixed and motionless. Eyes merely flicking upward to enact a sharply displeased glare, no less than the aggregate of a thousand ready daggers and then some. Who would risk life and limb to dare disturb his peace? No doubt this one thought himself a lion.

"Humph, how very dull. Do you wield such tiresome insistence with every new person you've yet to know?"

One swing of his leg over the knee. Knuckles folded, boxy and compact, against a smooth cheek. Frigid from one angle in these seamless and uncaring motions, bored witless from another, his gaze languidly traveled the towering length of the man's body. This cursory examination of the other when studied alongside his words yielded multiple observations; that he too was installed in a position of authority over the student flock; that he was an intrusive do-gooder type.

That he was unimaginably noisy.

"My name is Rafal, not mister. And 'have respect' I will not." A minuscule shift like the rippling of a viper's scales beneath light, his frosty demeanor thawed ever so slightly on a budding smirk, doled out for the insinuating wave of hand; however intended it was to reprimand, only Rafal's amusement met the gesture. "However, you will find me most fair. I welcome equal treatment and those who chase it. Anyone that wishes to call me names is perfectly free to do so."

There existed a caveat, as to be expected. Darkly, the Fell Dragon chuckled as his insidious smile bloomed in full: "—at every possible risk to themselves, of course."