Silent Showers
Noctis
TokyoPewPew
wintersoldier
Kaithe Dame
Crimson Flame
Neziul
X Fiendfyre X
Ivar@ERode
The dwarf would gleefully pop the caramel into his mouth, chewing along with mumbles of glee. Much to the orc's chagrin, she would do the same, inhaling the sweet morsel with a shrug, caught off guard by the act with a raised eyebrow towards Otis. "Er, thank you, student. While this will not change my stance on letting you in without permission, the student residents of this tower do not so much greet us as much as they do treat us as a welcoming mat."
A chuckle emerged from the dwarf's generous pot belly, gently punching the orc's shoulder and also turning to Otis as he moves away. "What she really means is that we appreciate the chat, lad, as brief as it was. It's a borin' life out here at the top, an' hired help like us don't often survive long enough to see a sight so grand and peaceful."
He would see the Strigidae off with a smile, standing at attention and yet doing his best to maintain his optimism in a work environment that consisted of standing in front of a door and greeting uncaring talents and eccentrics. Otis broke up the monotony of that, if only temporarily, and it was clear as day that the pair were grateful for that.
Upon arriving at the boys' dormitory, Otis would see the fateful nameplate hanging above his door, upon getting his affairs in order and being given his room key. Closer to the top of the door, it would read clear as day, 'Otis and Davil'. Should he enter, however, Davil would be nowhere to be seen inside at the current moment.
@AThousandCurses
Eventually, the library would fill with students one after another. As time passed and Chunji's studies and understanding of essence-related concepts deepened, more students began to take the haven of knowledge as their place of gathering. Emelie had long since turned off her combat recordings to maintain the image of a respectful and dutiful librarian, twiddling her thumbs and building a house of cards on top of her desk or sticking pencils up her nose and chant-giggling, "I'm a walrus, I'm a walrus," to herself repeatedly. Not a soul that passed by saw her as a trustworthy individual, and all made it their business to enter and leave with the speed of a flash flood. If there was any drawback at all to this, it was the noise. What was lost in Emelie's return to an attempt at dignity was replaced by many chipper and gossip-driven students using the place as a meeting hall, among other things.
A few even sat near Chunji's table, and instead of researching, took to setting up a game of cards instead. They grew louder and louder as time went on, even through the occasional 'shhhh' gestures from Emelie, who quite frankly seemed mostly unbothered, instead offering token resistance for the sake of her job.
@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
The icy Undermage was leaned forward in thought, nodding at Iraleth's comments as she left, pondering something. Once it was only the duo of Hildegunde and Nicole that remained in the room, the latter leaned back in her chair and opened her mouth. As she did so, it was as if all of the cold air and ice in the room flowed back into her, leaving it in its prior state of reasonable temperature. With her face turned towards the ceiling, she openly grit her teeth, her posture sinking as if letting the chair take all of the stress out of her. "Wheeeeeew," she would breathe, the back of her hand trailing along her forehead. "School faculty is a much more strenuous and mentally demanding task than Shaktan politics. At the very least, I can predict when a council member wants someone dead."
An uncharacteristic giggle was let loose from her as she clearly imagined something that only made sense to her in her own context, and eventually reoriented herself to face Hildegunde once more. "I cannot deny that you seem to bring a certain measure of balance between those two. If a three-person room is what you all unanimously desire, and that desire has not been shaken by the declarations made in this room..."
Digging into her desk drawer, a key was withdrawn - the number stickered to its main body matching that of the room that Ciara and Iraleth inhabited. Nicole slid it across to the other side of her desk, and gestured towards Hildegunde. "For you. Under the condition, of course, that you try to rethink what you have just said in the future. In the days ahead, every battle is yours to fight, girl. If we are to embody what Nero Leuvalt and his Wings meant to the people, every battle that we believe we have the power to change becomes our battle."
Once more, the elf would lean back in her chair and ease off of Hildegunde in her posture. "It is not a rational approach, I will admit. It is, however, the approach this world in these crucial years of rebuilding will need if heroes are to once more become commonplace."
Finally, Nicole would gesture towards the door. "As for messages for them? Concerns? They will be your roommates and friends from now on, so if there is anything you could do for me, it would be to speak your mind. To me, to them, or anyone else, truly. Were I to speak my own mind, I would go so far as to suggest that your outward bluntness is a deeper cover for, perhaps, something else that lurks; something that cannot be allowed to surface. But, such explorations are above what someone like me is obligated to cover."
A smile, and then a chuckle. "Off with you, now. Make sure this conflict of theirs does not escalate to murder, and we will see what awaits beyond their duel. And, my own personal request? Do what you can to calm the fires of war building between them, lest they burn each other away when their battle begins tomorrow."
@Estylwen
During Ciara's search for objects to assist her in her future duel, she would come across the familiar visage of Michael, the scraggly janitor raking leaves and sorting scattered trash into their proper bins. He leaned against his rake, wiping his brow despite still wearing his tattered hood firmly in the spring heat. Upon catching a glimpse of her, Michael would wave to her, beginning to move towards her. The whole while, he would drag the pile of leaves with him with his rake, clumsily raising a finger to beg her to wait while he slowly stumbles his way over.
"Hope ya don't mind me sayin' so, but you seem down in the dumps there. Hope things're okay, yeah? And if noooot..."
Bending down, the cloaked janitor withdrew a leaf from the top of the pile: red, with not a single bite or puncture in it, and almost perfectly shaped the way one might draw a stereotypical leaf. He grinned as he raised it towards her, the leaf almost seeming to reflect the golden rays of the sun and reflect them as scarlet streams on the other way out. "They say the gift of a perfect red leaf on the first day of spring brings good luck."
Whether she would accept it or not, Michael would continue raking in leaves while nodding along to anything she might be saying, occasionally interjecting with a, "hm," or an, "ah." He seemed simultaneously interested and dismissive at the same time as he simply existed on the school grounds, curious about how the girl's first day at Wingram was going, but not having much to say in response to anything she might tell him.
IRIS RECORD AND BOYS' DORM
The dwarf would gleefully pop the caramel into his mouth, chewing along with mumbles of glee. Much to the orc's chagrin, she would do the same, inhaling the sweet morsel with a shrug, caught off guard by the act with a raised eyebrow towards Otis. "Er, thank you, student. While this will not change my stance on letting you in without permission, the student residents of this tower do not so much greet us as much as they do treat us as a welcoming mat."
A chuckle emerged from the dwarf's generous pot belly, gently punching the orc's shoulder and also turning to Otis as he moves away. "What she really means is that we appreciate the chat, lad, as brief as it was. It's a borin' life out here at the top, an' hired help like us don't often survive long enough to see a sight so grand and peaceful."
He would see the Strigidae off with a smile, standing at attention and yet doing his best to maintain his optimism in a work environment that consisted of standing in front of a door and greeting uncaring talents and eccentrics. Otis broke up the monotony of that, if only temporarily, and it was clear as day that the pair were grateful for that.
Upon arriving at the boys' dormitory, Otis would see the fateful nameplate hanging above his door, upon getting his affairs in order and being given his room key. Closer to the top of the door, it would read clear as day, 'Otis and Davil'. Should he enter, however, Davil would be nowhere to be seen inside at the current moment.
@AThousandCurses
LIBRARY
Eventually, the library would fill with students one after another. As time passed and Chunji's studies and understanding of essence-related concepts deepened, more students began to take the haven of knowledge as their place of gathering. Emelie had long since turned off her combat recordings to maintain the image of a respectful and dutiful librarian, twiddling her thumbs and building a house of cards on top of her desk or sticking pencils up her nose and chant-giggling, "I'm a walrus, I'm a walrus," to herself repeatedly. Not a soul that passed by saw her as a trustworthy individual, and all made it their business to enter and leave with the speed of a flash flood. If there was any drawback at all to this, it was the noise. What was lost in Emelie's return to an attempt at dignity was replaced by many chipper and gossip-driven students using the place as a meeting hall, among other things.
A few even sat near Chunji's table, and instead of researching, took to setting up a game of cards instead. They grew louder and louder as time went on, even through the occasional 'shhhh' gestures from Emelie, who quite frankly seemed mostly unbothered, instead offering token resistance for the sake of her job.
@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
GIRLS' DORM
The icy Undermage was leaned forward in thought, nodding at Iraleth's comments as she left, pondering something. Once it was only the duo of Hildegunde and Nicole that remained in the room, the latter leaned back in her chair and opened her mouth. As she did so, it was as if all of the cold air and ice in the room flowed back into her, leaving it in its prior state of reasonable temperature. With her face turned towards the ceiling, she openly grit her teeth, her posture sinking as if letting the chair take all of the stress out of her. "Wheeeeeew," she would breathe, the back of her hand trailing along her forehead. "School faculty is a much more strenuous and mentally demanding task than Shaktan politics. At the very least, I can predict when a council member wants someone dead."
An uncharacteristic giggle was let loose from her as she clearly imagined something that only made sense to her in her own context, and eventually reoriented herself to face Hildegunde once more. "I cannot deny that you seem to bring a certain measure of balance between those two. If a three-person room is what you all unanimously desire, and that desire has not been shaken by the declarations made in this room..."
Digging into her desk drawer, a key was withdrawn - the number stickered to its main body matching that of the room that Ciara and Iraleth inhabited. Nicole slid it across to the other side of her desk, and gestured towards Hildegunde. "For you. Under the condition, of course, that you try to rethink what you have just said in the future. In the days ahead, every battle is yours to fight, girl. If we are to embody what Nero Leuvalt and his Wings meant to the people, every battle that we believe we have the power to change becomes our battle."
Once more, the elf would lean back in her chair and ease off of Hildegunde in her posture. "It is not a rational approach, I will admit. It is, however, the approach this world in these crucial years of rebuilding will need if heroes are to once more become commonplace."
Finally, Nicole would gesture towards the door. "As for messages for them? Concerns? They will be your roommates and friends from now on, so if there is anything you could do for me, it would be to speak your mind. To me, to them, or anyone else, truly. Were I to speak my own mind, I would go so far as to suggest that your outward bluntness is a deeper cover for, perhaps, something else that lurks; something that cannot be allowed to surface. But, such explorations are above what someone like me is obligated to cover."
A smile, and then a chuckle. "Off with you, now. Make sure this conflict of theirs does not escalate to murder, and we will see what awaits beyond their duel. And, my own personal request? Do what you can to calm the fires of war building between them, lest they burn each other away when their battle begins tomorrow."
@Estylwen
GIRLS' DORM GROUNDS
During Ciara's search for objects to assist her in her future duel, she would come across the familiar visage of Michael, the scraggly janitor raking leaves and sorting scattered trash into their proper bins. He leaned against his rake, wiping his brow despite still wearing his tattered hood firmly in the spring heat. Upon catching a glimpse of her, Michael would wave to her, beginning to move towards her. The whole while, he would drag the pile of leaves with him with his rake, clumsily raising a finger to beg her to wait while he slowly stumbles his way over.
"Hope ya don't mind me sayin' so, but you seem down in the dumps there. Hope things're okay, yeah? And if noooot..."
Bending down, the cloaked janitor withdrew a leaf from the top of the pile: red, with not a single bite or puncture in it, and almost perfectly shaped the way one might draw a stereotypical leaf. He grinned as he raised it towards her, the leaf almost seeming to reflect the golden rays of the sun and reflect them as scarlet streams on the other way out. "They say the gift of a perfect red leaf on the first day of spring brings good luck."
Whether she would accept it or not, Michael would continue raking in leaves while nodding along to anything she might be saying, occasionally interjecting with a, "hm," or an, "ah." He seemed simultaneously interested and dismissive at the same time as he simply existed on the school grounds, curious about how the girl's first day at Wingram was going, but not having much to say in response to anything she might tell him.