#➤ egittae

[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...

[gainfuldagger]

with all of the whispers that haunt the halls, it's a wonder this guy didn't know who was sitting in front of him. metodey is about to smugly show this guy what-for when he pauses; perhaps he ought to think once again.

there is not any way that this man, should he be a resident, wouldn't know metodey's name. people knew him before he even made his home here! that means he's ultra-famous, right?! RIGHT?!

so the conclusion is easy to come to: this guy is trying to get the info out of him. he dares?! he dares squeeze metodey like the toothpaste tube?! JAIL! jail for new teacher for TEN THOUSAND MOONS!

" ...it's metodey, " he says, simply, instead of whatever he thought about saying. it is not impossible for metodey to provide resistance. in fact, it's common for him to butt heads with people he just plain dislikes---hell, doesn't everyone? but there are a few people he has personally sworn off of combat, at least at first. employers, extremely rich-looking idiots,

and teachers.

" very well then, professor. " metodey crosses his arms though takes care not to disturb his desk layout. " i suppose, then, that if you are the only professor, that you teach every subject? "

➤ he's sitting in the lecture area before lambert has even arrived. how long he has been there is a mystery. arms crossed, his eyes flick over from his seat to focus on the entering presence.

" are you today's lecturer? " is what he asks first, not even bothering to introduce himself. crass though he may be acting towards what is potentially his new professor, he's got all of his school supplies out and organized...

By now Lambert had long become used to the sight of odd or shady individuals roaming his surroundings or joining his classes. There was no judgment in the Abyss- a place where people came to hide, a haven where one’s birth or actions wouldn’t constantly haunt their every step. It was an unspoken rule to not pry and not judge, simply mind your business and move on, and so when the professor had received rumors that one of his newest pupils was supposedly a sword for hire, he didn’t bat an eye.

He wouldn’t be special down there anyway.

A light chuckle escaped his lips. “Indeed, I am. The only lecturer, in fact. You may call me Professor Lambert.” Placing down a stack of papers on a wooden desk after swiping away dust, icy pools scanned over the written profile of the Wolves’ newest addition.

The name was a blank, but the rumors that reached him said otherwise.��He'd settle with having the guy tell it to him naturally, for now.

“You have a name, do you not?” Lambert looked back at him, a satisfied smile tugging on his lips once he spotted the man’s neat desk with all materials organized. “Unless you are satisfied with me addressing you indirectly, though I doubt that would be welcome.”

[txmehunting]

"you."

can i help you?

[wolfhednn]

At least one was here. It was a dreadful development but still something that had to be celebrated in his mind.

Rodrigue’s kid, the youngest. Felix. 

Lambert…admittedly doesn’t remember much about the boy, but his features tugged at something else buried deep in his mind. A face that wasn’t his’, yet from the same family. One that shared a fate similar to his own, in the very same place and time. A face he swore he had seen moons ago, when Lambert first dared to use a Death tome.

But alas, out of the four kids- one was here. He could only hope and pray that Dimitri, Sylvain and Ingrid were okay somewhere, looking after one another. A new problem entered the equation however- how to even approach his boy? He hadn’t gotten any chances to properly be in his vicinity until now. It was almost guaranteed that he’ll either be shrugged off at best- and ideally, or at worst…well. It would be down that same road of being blamed as a faker again.

Just don’t recognize me, he hoped. “Felix? From House Fraldarius, correct?” He could just pose as a teacher like any other, checking in on the students. Did you see where Dimitri went? Do you know where any of the other three are? Are they okay?

“Are you okay?”

Why is it that he can see Glenn so clearly on that face? The Felix he remembered was…different. But also much younger.

THIS LONG, HE'D CHOSEN NOT TO CONFRONT IT. he'd heard the rumors, of course. a professor named lambert, a tall, blond man with a striking resemblance to faerghus' crown prince if one stood the two together. too striking to be ignored, especially when more than one had whispered of that same resemblance to a man who should've been dead.

then, once or twice, he'd seen the man himself from afar. never close enough to judge with his own eyes, but he found that he wasn't certain he wanted to.

the boar, after all, had spent this long agonizing over his father's death, along with that of so many others. he spent day and night bearing their tragedies, fashioning their memories into keepsakes and defining himself by them, just like his own father. they really were made for each other——father and son, more than he'd ever been.

so what was he supposed to tell them?

what was he supposed to write home? ' the king's back ', as though that would get him anything but pages of nonsense and rebuke besides? ' it turns out the king is still alive? ' ridiculous.

so he'd avoided the spectre. the corpse, the charlatan, whatever this was supposed to be. the fault in time, or even the goddess' idea of a sense of humor. after all, he'd learned not too long ago that apparently anything was possible. including, it turned out, dead men walking among them whole again. he'd avoided the spectre, and consequently he'd avoided his son. there was no reason he should have two fathers, after all ; how much more coddling could he get?

so, with a huff, "i'm fine," he says. "thanks for your concern."

not wholly able to stifle a cutting tone.

he meets the man's gaze dead-on, matches its uncertainty with unfaltering boldness in equal measure, bordering on audacity. with one more drink from the waterskin in hand, he pushes off the bench on which he'd sought a moment's respite. even that, it seemed, couldn't go uninterrupted by ghosts.

"i have things to do. if it's the boar you're looking for, i haven't seen him."

[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."

[hresvelged]

Lambert knew who she was, it was part of this odd, confusing knot of information that somehow his brain found effortless to not only remember but unfurl over everything else. The last woman he had been married to, what their union meant to his demise, and finally the child she had but couldn’t get to because of circumstances he had yet to remember fully but that he knew had been because of some political disturbance.

After all, the girl was the imperial princess. Didn’t take many pieces into the puzzle to figure out the mess.

First find his son, and now be suddenly reminded that…he sort of has a step-daughter, doesn’t he? But she most likely doesn’t know much, even less remembers in the same way Lambert himself has little to no memories of Edelgard as a child. They most likely never properly met as family, and everything else was built simply on association and assumption.

“Edelgard?” He’d extend his sympathy to her all the same. Even if she doesn’t know, in the end she’s at the very least still a student amidst a bubbling war. “There you are. Because you and many of your classmates were not in the Academy when the attack happened, I was worried about your whereabouts. You do not seem to be too injured, thankfully.” He heard that there were attacks on the mountain pass too, so none had been spared.

He handed her a juicebox and a blanket, draping it over her shoulders before crossing his arms. “I know what you may be about to say- that you feel well and you have to stay on your feet. I have heard that plenty already.” There was a joking, yet caring tone in his voice. “But as a professor I do ask you to please take your time to rest. There is a lot for us to do indeed, however we must also take any and whatever chance available to recompose and ensure our body is well tended to. If you have any injuries, take good care of them.”

The quick lecture ended with a smile. “And do not forget to count on us for aid. I may not be a professor of the Black Eagles, but it is within my interest to ensure all students are faring well and receive proper support.”

Her tongue did spring to say she was fine. That she couldn't sit around and allow herself a moment of respite. But, she was beaten to those words. "Of course," she said instead.

"The mountain pass had its own share of turmoil, but we were able to see glimpses of Garreg Mach's wreckage. I'd be happy to tell you more if we find ourselves with the time." While she might normally refuse the blanket and beverage, Edelgard found herself willed to comply. When she looked at his face, she found it difficult to read. That, or perhaps she was viewing too deeply in a situation otherwise scorched by crimson.

"Thank you, Professor." The blanket weighed heavily on her shoulders. "And for your concern. I'd agree, too." Draping her fingers around the juice box, she looked up. "If I can rely on you and others for assistance, I'm in no position to refuse." She offered a smile of her own; small, yet significant for someone who frequented a stoic expression more than any other. Edelgard wanted to believe that, but wary eyes left an edge of uncertainty powering through. For now, she would keep elsewise at bay.

She would never fully relax, but she could at least allow herself to breathe. Rolling her shoulders back, she brought the juice to her mouth and took the smallest of sips. "I will do my utmost to reveal the truth. I swear that."

[gainfuldagger]

@egittae

" you speak to me like i'm a fool, " metodey sneers, cocking his head back. " i can assure you that your words are wasted on me; the others know exactly where i stand on their gameboard. we do not interfere with each other. " that so many sit pretty and wait for metodey to give orders, he thinks, is not something that needs mentioning.

this ' lambert ' is already starting off a handful. he seems to like toying with metodey, despite not having much reason to do so. that is annoying and metodey is going to be mad about it, thank you and goodnight. he'll still attend class, obviously, but if he's going to be singled out often because of whatever silly game he's got happening in his head, well, he's not looking forward to that bit.

but at least his professor is attentive. yes, the holsters for his daggers sit neatly upon his uniform's belt, but at least he took care to notice it instead of asking redundant questions. " you're somewhat competent, at the very least. good. " metodey does not uncross his arms, but his leer curves inquisitively. " but how can i trust that you will not teach me what i already know? if there is one thing i despise, it is having my time wasted. "

it's my first day at gay high school

cont. from here

[warpaway]

“Linhardt, is it?”

Once he finally regained consciousness, Lambert carefully took in air to speak- minding the pain flaring up from the very act of breathing. It felt miserable, but even in this condition he knew better than to let it dominate this self and render him pitiable. “I do not remember much from the whole ordeal, and I am not even your teacher…however, I feel I must apologize regardless. I should have been more mindful that a student was with us, and considering our overall situation…I let my impulses dictate my actions. That was incorrect of me and resulted in more problems than solutions.”

He smiled, his expression sympathetic. “I did see your efforts in ensuring Innes’ wellbeing. Your work is commendable. Keep it up.”

"Take care out there."

linhardt hardly gets a break before they're being pushed with the others back on patrol. they would much prefer sitting by the fire, but apparently a semi-conscious wounded man is enough to tend to and defend it alone.

he doesn't get what came over his comrades. attacking each other like starved animals fighting over scraps of food, while the enemy - malformed creatures beyond linhardt's comprehension - watch on wordlessly.

some small part of them thinks the apology is warranted. the rest doesn't particularly care. if you apologize to a corpse, what does it matter, after all? any attack of that caliber means to kill, doesn't it?

linhardt merely hums in response. it's difficult to look the professor in the eye, so he doesn't.

what he does say, though, is: "i'll do my best."

[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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

[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."

[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