Obscene Symphony

Of Blood and Magic

Ooh, now that was an expert eye roll. Clytemnestra Starag would have been proud.

“Pardon me, when you left the tattoo parlour I wasn’t expecting you to have picked up a puppy within the hour,” Aaron shot back, matching Max’s tone with surprising ease but otherwise grinning. Eris’ new pet? He had to admit, it did seem to suit him. Aaron was more amused, however, by the mental image of the thing in Max’s arms curling up at the foot of his bed every day. For some reason he imagined Max drop-kicking it out the window or something.

At the stalking comment, Aaron shrugged, not all that fazed by the aggression. Before he could reply though, Lilie cut in.

"We're just tagging along with Salem. I didn't know Eris Samael had a dog."

“Apparently he didn’t until tonight,” Aaron chuckled in reply. From the look of the wicket though (especially with Max and Salem trying to speak to the same clerk for some reason) now probably wasn’t the best time to launch into conversation, so he decided to excuse himself for the moment. “But here, I’ll get out of your way.”

Backing up a touch, Aaron really had to wonder why Max and Salem had both gone to the same clerk. They were all open, after all. But, he wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity. Sure, it might not be wise to get a replacement key, but he did have at least one matter the housing clerks could help him with, and walked up to the farther wicket from the group.

“Excuse me,” he greeted politely, catching the attention of the female clerk behind the counter, “I was hoping you could help me understand something. There was some… hardware removed from the Sinnenodel dorm last night. Do you know when it’ll be replaced?”

"Sinnenodel dorm, right. Hardware? What, did they take away your TV or something?" The woman asked indifferently, fingers flying across the keyboard. Her brow furrowed for a bit and she looked at him with judgement written plain as day across her face. "Count Sinnenodel requested his mage's doors removed because his mage was feeling skittish about being separated from him. So I'm guessing they'll be put back when Count Sinnenodel feels that his mage's attachment issues are resolved."

Aaron’s heart sank as the clerk replied, everything from her curt attitude and the look she gave him to her tone of voice - clearly audible by everyone in the office, or at least it felt that way - only enhancing the flush of embarrassment that struck him at the explanation. So Varis had ordered the doors removed, and apparently indefinitely, on the basis of a blatant lie. Given his apparent contempt for privacy from before dinner, Aaron could only assume the loss of his doors was another one of Varis’ little training methods. Aaron had the urge to correct the clerk and put an end to whatever other rumour that might start about him having “attachment issues”, but… was the real reason (or at least, the conclusion he'd drawn) any better?

“Ah hah…” Aaron hummed in reply, brow furrowed. “...Thank you. Have a good night.”

Turning on his heel, Aaron returned to where Lilie was standing and glanced at his watch, just in time for his 5:45am alarm to sound.

“Oh, shoot,” he murmured, silencing his alarm immediately. He looked apologetically to Lilie for the second time that night. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he told her, already turning to leave. “Keep me updated on your plans, okay?”

_{Interacting with: @Hero @Trainerblue192 @Scribe of Thoth}

Of Blood and Magic

The walk over to the administrative office building was quiet, a comfortable—for Aaron, anyway—silence falling over the trio as they crossed the campus, following the same path Salem and Lilie had taken before. Aaron took note of Lilie’s sudden hush, but from the glassy look in her eye he could only assume she was falling asleep on her feet. Right, he recalled her mentioning that the adjustment to nocturnal life would be difficult for her. She’d probably call it a night shortly after he had to leave for his curfew, he imagined, unless she had some reason to push herself.

As they neared the building, Aaron was surprised to see Max ahead of them on the path. For a second he thought he must have been leaving just as they arrived, but he was definitely heading inside. Must have taken longer than Aaron expected to get back to campus after their conversation. Much more notably, however, he was holding what Aaron could only recognize as a small, peculiar mass of white fur under his arm.

"I didn't know he had such a cute dog!"

Salem’s comment was all but lost to Aaron as he stared at the thing, brow furrowed. He’d been wondering what all that ‘dog’ talk was with Max on the phone, but he’d thought it was some kind of mundane turn-of-phrase he didn't recognize. And surely that couldn’t be a dog. It looked more like a fluffy baseball than an animal of any kind, and surely if it was, Max wouldn’t be holding it.

Briefly distracted by the smell of fresh laundry—presumably the result of whatever Salem was mumbling about—Aaron couldn’t resist a smirk as he watched Max bolt into the building, definitely purposely ignoring the three of them. Funny, Aaron had known the man all of a night and he was already so predictable. He could only shake his head, an amused sigh escaping him, and continued inside with Salem and Lilie, not exactly following Max but definitely going the same way. He caught himself holding his earring to stop the swaying as they walked, and forced himself to use that hand to open the door for the other two instead. He’d have to get used to the sensation eventually, no sense in walking around like a fool with his hand to his ear in the meantime.

Luckily Salem and Lilie knew the way to the housing office, and they found their way without issue. Aaron briefly wondered if he’d be able to get a duplicate key for his own dorm while they were here, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. Even if they would issue him a third key, he had a sneaking suspicion Varis wouldn’t be pleased if he tried to weasel around his little dorm access arrangement and Aaron didn’t need more lines.

Aaron didn’t need anything here, and there wasn’t exactly much he could help Salem with either. So, either out of restlessness or poor judgement, he decided to see if he could talk to Max while Salem took care of his business.

“Don’t tell me that is the thing you were talking about on the phone,” he chuckled, sauntering over to the grump with the fluff ball under his arm. “I thought all that dog talk was a weird figure of speech or something. Where on earth did you get that?”

_{Interacting with: @Hero @Trainerblue192 @Scribe of Thoth}

Obscene's Scratchpad

^^ fontmeme "mulders-handwriting" size 65

^^ fontmeme "Byron" size 65



^^ fontmeme "Last King Quest" size 50

ＦＩＮＡＬ ＦＡＮＴＡＳＹ Ｘ｜Ｖ： Ｔｈｅ Ｂｌｅｓｓｅｄ Ｔｗｅｌｖｅ

J'torha Tia | DNC

_ＮＡＭＥ
J'torha Tia
_ＲＡＣＥ
Miqo'te
_ＣＬＡＮ
Seekers of the Sun
_{ＢＩＲＴＨＰＬＡＣＥ}
Central Thanalan
_{ＯＣＣＵＰＡＴＩＯＮ}
Traveling Busker
_{ＳＯＵＬ ＣＲＹＳＴＡＬ}
Dancer

_{ＡＰＰＥＡＲＡＮＣＥ}

Women with heart conditions are advised not to look directly at J'torha. This also applies to women without heart conditions.

(he's very pretty)


<sub>Commission credit: Kanato/Cait ep22kun.tumblr.com

I forgot to turn the HUD off, shut up

cute n' confused</sub>

With tan skin and bright, slitted eyes, J'torha is a pretty classic specimen of the J tribe. He stands only a little over average height for a seeker male at 5'6" with a tail on the shorter end, straight with a slightly tapered tip. His blond hair is long and kept wound in several braids, all tied at the back of his head to keep them up and out of his way while still maintaining some movement and style. His left eye is gold while his right eye is crimson (a trait his tribe considered lucky) and alongside the eye marks characteristic of miqo'te males, he also adorns his face with light yellow paint, though he's been known to change it up in colour and motif depending on the occasion. He has two symmetrical scars, one on each cheek, and on his chin he sports a short goatee.

For clothing, J'torha likes to stand out. His dancer's gear usually scratches that itch, with its airy silhouette and red-and-gold theme to match his eyes, but he's also fond of a far-eastern outfit he managed to procure from a traveling merchant. However, he likes to think that he could make anything look good. Like most miqo'te, he doesn't like anything that restricts his movement.

_{ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ}
Perhaps his greatest virtue and flaw all in one, J'torha isn't known to take things seriously. This has been of great benefit to him in the past, being that he doesn't usually suffer long from heartache or disappointment, and it's nearly impossible to get under his skin. However, his tendency to make light of any situation has blown up in his face once or twice in the past, although he still doesn't seem to have learned his lesson. He's laid-back, playful, and confident, bordering on cocky at times. J'torha is generally happiest when all eyes are on him, even at his own expense.

Like many of his kind, J'torha is drawn to wander, never staying put too long in one place. Perhaps this urge to move came from his nomadic upbringing, but a friend of his might suggest he's only traveling between fair maidens' beds. As a notorious flirt and a fair charmer, even J'torha would have to admit that such a theory isn't entirely baseless.

Beneath the flippant attitude and flirtatious remarks, however, J'torha is a genuinely kind soul, averse to doing harm unless he must. He does harbour an ambition to eventually amass a harem and start a tribe of his own, however, and as such his search for glory can make him short-sighted, sometimes blind to the consequences of his actions.

_{ＢＩＯＧＲＡＰＨＹ}

A Star is Born

J’torha was born in Central Thanalan, although growing up on the move made him comfortable calling all of Thanalan his home. His tribe, a nomadic pocket of the J tribe, was always moving, never staying in one place for more than a few days at a time. With a harem of about thirty and a handful of children at any given time, the true backbone of the tribe was their nunh, a strong and diligent male by the name of J’rukoh, who took up the uncommon mantle of leader with ease. J’torha saw how the women of his tribe respected (and even admired) the nunh, and came to idolize the position, if not the man himself. As many young male seekers do, J’torha came to see defeating his nunh and taking up the position himself as the ultimate accomplishment, and being the only tia in the tribe, set his sights on doing just that.

Of course, some are better suited to such endeavours than others, and J’torha always seemed to fall in the latter category. Ever a carefree child, he always had trouble taking things seriously, often showing off or making a game out of everything, getting himself into trouble more often than not. Despite being a fairly skilled hunter, J’torha was still generally outclassed by even his less skilled peers, as he never seemed to put as much effort into catching his quarry as he did into exploring and getting into mischief. His mission to become nunh was no different; in the infinite wisdom of youth, J’torha expected challenging J’rukoh to end as well as most of his other misadventures did, relying more on luck and confidence than raw skill.

His life was happy and calm until his fifteenth summer. J’torha was largely unaware of the conflict on the Carteneau Flats, but J’rukoh could sense an oncoming threat; when the nunh saw Dalamud falter, he wasted no time reacting, ushering his tribe directly south along unfamiliar routes from their position at the time in Northern Thanalan.

The journey south was undoubtedly the most difficult in the tribe’s history, with J’rukoh pushing them harder than they’d ever been pushed before. They moved continuously, stopping only long enough for the bare minimum of sleep and hunting along the way without halting. An adolescent at the time, J’torha was tasked (along with other adolescents) with keeping the tribe’s children occupied as their mothers hunted, to stave off panic and keep their spirits up even as they strained to cope with the backbreaking pace set out by J’rukoh.

Thanks to the nunh’s quick thinking, however, J’torha’s tribe made it as far as Minotaur’s Malm before the chaos of the 7th Umbral Calamity truly took hold. They waited out the carnage holed up in the canyon tunnel, eventually emerging, scared and hungry, to find that a different Thanalan awaited them. Shaken, as all of Eorzea was, by the destruction, the tribe regrouped with the U of Forgotten Springs for a time, doing all they could to repay their standoffish hosts before finally setting out again with the daunting task ahead of them of re-mapping their migratory routes to fit the altered landscape.

No home to destroy meant no home needed rebuilding, and as such the J of Thanalan recovered quicker than most after the Calamity, finding new routes across the desert and new hunting grounds to sustain themselves. Life continued on as normal as could be expected in the wake of disaster until J’torha reached his eighteenth summer, when he decided that it was time to make good on the promise he’d made himself as a child and take up what he believed to be his rightful place as nunh. Against the counsel of his sister, mother, tribemates and even the nunh himself, J’torha went through with his plan, to an unfortunate, yet predictable, result.

J’torha was wholly outmatched and soundly beaten; so easily defeated was he that J’rukoh was able to give him two identical scars, one on each cheek, as both a reminder of his folly and a warning not to act so foolishly again. Humiliated, J’torha knew he would never survive challenging J’rukoh a second time. His tribemates advised him to be grateful that he was spared death and move on, but he simply couldn’t bear the thought of remaining a tia forever; likewise, he knew amassing a harem of his own in Thanalan would be hopeless, at least until the fast-traveling news of his defeat passed out of memory. So, once his wounds had healed, J’torha decided to leave his tribe and strike out in search of new territory and enough glory to prove his worth as the nunh of his very own tribe.

Like anything, this again proved a daunting task. In the beginning, J’torha tried a number of ways to make a name for himself, but the slog of performing menial tasks for random townspeople as a freelance adventurer wasn’t exactly the stuff of songs, and was deathly boring to boot. But over the course of one such task, helping a Gridanian woman round up her class of children for a lesson in ritual dance, J’torha found a new calling. Rather than gil, the woman paid J’torha by teaching him the same dance she taught the children, and offhandedly commented that he was a natural at it. It struck a chord within him that nothing before it had touched; despite their penchant for song, his tribe had never practiced much dance, and he found himself falling in love with it.

Opting to take a hiatus from his mission, J’torha temporarily set out to learn every dance he could find, traveling all over the realm in his search. He was particularly captivated by the infamous dancing girls of Ul’dah, but for once, was less concerned with the supple curves of their bodies and more interested in the way they moved. Infatuated with their craft (lowly as some may have seen it) J’torha set out to learn from them; after some bargaining, some flirting, and a little begging, one such clique of dancers finally agreed to take him on, reasoning that in their line of work it was probably prudent to have a man on their side.

It didn’t take long for J’torha to come to love the busking life. Within a few moons he graduated from pseudo-bodyguard, to instrumentalist, and even up to performer in his own right, relishing every moment. The music, the movement, the joyful cheers of onlookers, it all easily eclipsed the meagre gil as reward for his performances - not that the attention of female admirers was anything to scoff at, either.

However, J’torha had never been good at staying in one place. Eventually he was struck with the itch to get moving and parted ways with his Ul’dahn group, setting out on his own again. It wasn’t long before he crossed paths with another, a woman from the Steppes who soon became a dear friend and traveling companion (not that she’d ever admit it out loud). They traveled together for six moons, traversing the realm and teaching each other about their respective cultures, until their paths diverged in Limsa Lominsa, and J’torha was on his own again.

J’torha would contribute the following events to some lingering good luck from his companion; not a day after she left Limsa did J’torha attend a performance by a troupe of foreign dancers, exhibiting styles and techniques that eclipsed his Ul’dahn partners’ skill by far. He threw every gil he could muster into their collection basket and sat at the pier that was their stage until two umbral cycles had passed. He was among a handful of enthusiastic onlookers who stuck around to gush at the performers as they packed up to move on, but as he spoke animatedly to the lead dancer, the troupe’s leader apparently saw something in him; when she asked, almost offhandedly, if he had any interest in learning their craft, J’torha’s “yes” flew out of his mouth before he even understood the question. The leader explained that their method of dance merged beauty and combat, and after he agreed to help the troupe spread their art in the hopes of bringing a measure of comfort to the still-recovering realm, they welcomed the weak-kneed and delighted seeker into their ranks.

J’torha studied his troupe’s deadly art of dance more fervently than any other undertaking of his life, working each day until his fingers bloodied his chakrams and his legs melted beneath him, all the while hungry for more. Several moons into his training, his leader and troupemates deemed him ready to fully adopt the true art of the Dancer, and gave him what is now his most treasured possession: his soul stone.

Imbued with the wisdom and skill of generations past, J’torha became a force to be reckoned with. His body seemed to know what to do without his mind ever sparing it a thought, and his performances could embolden his partners like no other skill he’d ever seen. Soon enough, the troupe leader decided that there was no more they could teach him, and bid him strike out and hone his newfound power with all of Eorzea for his stage. Swearing to uphold the troupe’s mission, J’torha agreed, and has been traversing the realm with newfound vigor, light of foot and bold of heart, ever since.

_{ＯＴＨＥＲ}

• His favourite food is Shakshouka, a spicy foreign dish introduced to him by a dear friend from the steppes. He likes to eat it with flatbread. He’s fond of spicy dishes in general, but this one most of all because of the nostalgia it brings up.
• Growing up, J’torha’s tribe was always on the move, though they always stopped, without exception, for meals. Rather than spacing out their meals, his tribe ate two meals each day; a small one in the afternoon when it was too hot to travel, and a large one in the evening. As a result, meal times are sacred to J’torha, and he’s accustomed to fasting and then eating a lot of food at once.
• J’torha loves children, and is very good with them. His older sister J’delika claims this is because he’s an overgrown child himself.
• J’torha holds his friends close, but isn’t too troubled by goodbyes. In the back of his mind, he’s confident that his and his friends’ paths will cross again.
• He’s super good at making flower garlands.
• Alongside his skill in dance, J’torha harbours love and skill in all things musical, including a great singing voice. His tribe did a lot of singing, but not much dancing to speak of. He knows songs from all over Eorzea.
• He's a very social guy, and has friends all over Eorzea (as well as a number of enemies in the forms of spurned lovers and the angry spouses of said lovers)
• Colour code CB3011

_{ＲＥＡＳＯＮ ＦＯＲ ＥＮＬＩＳＴＭＥＮＴ}

The Legend Begins

Laughter and cheers echoed through the cool night air outside of Ul’dah proper, bouncing off the hulking city walls as a merry group of strangers took refuge from the crowds. J’torha was still a little lightheaded from the skin of wine being passed around, but that didn’t stop him from showing off.

“This time for sure,” he declared, to the great entertainment of the three taffeta-clad ladies at the top of the steps.

“Fifth time’s the charm,” drawled the lone midlander of the group, backed by the giggling of the two seeker girls who accompanied her. J’torha couldn’t remember if they were twins or just friends who looked really similar, but he wasn’t too worried about it either way.

“Five tries, those were your words,” J’torha called up, doing a few stretches mostly for show. “And then your five gil are mine.”

The midlander scoffed, but looked on in interest just the same, tossing her gil up and down in what J’torha could only assume was rapt anticipation. Thankful for the wine that dulled the throbbing in his shin and elbow from his previous attempts, he took a few quick breaths; on the third he jumped, propelling himself backwards over the bottom flight of steps. Bringing his knees up to carry his momentum, he caught his first touch on his hands on the middle step, bending at the elbow and kicking up his legs to bounce back up again. This time he actually managed to bring his feet down in time and landed the handspring at the bottom landing, skipping backward on the sandy stone to catch his balance but managing to stay upright.

He held his position with knees bent and arms out for a moment to let the world stop spinning before straightening up, tail curling with pride. When he was sure his company had seen the spectacle, he jumped up to pump his fists in the air with a triumphant, “Ha!”

The ladies at the top broke into applause, laughing and cheering all at once at the man’s antics.

“Incredible!” called the seeker girl with the red earrings, hopping in place.

“And you’re in one piece!” her sister (possibly her friend) added, in a tone that J’torha chose to interpret as amazement rather than smugness.

J’torha gave the women a theatrical, exaggerated bow from the bottom of the steps, and only barely straightened up in time to catch the glimmer of gil flying down towards him. He managed to catch four of the pieces, scrambling hither and yon as the midlander girl made no effort to make it easy for him, but when he reached too far for the fifth he stumbled, tumbling into a cackling heap on his rump.

Musical laughter cascaded down the steps to meet him, and J’torha let himself fall back, sprawled wide on the warm sand as laughter quaked in his own chest. His chuckles eventually faded to long, worn-out breaths as he stared up at the glimmering Ul’dahn night sky, a wide - if not still just a touch inebriated - smile still splitting his face.

“Just like a man to fall asleep in the middle of the fun,” the midlander girl teased, probably sore at losing her gil to such an extraordinary performance.

J’torha raised one arm as far as the elbow and lazily waved the thought away. “If this is how hard you drive your men, then they deserve the rest,” he called back, chuckling at his own joke as he let his hand fall. After another long look at the sky, though, he did pull himself to his feet, a heaviness of the limbs creeping in to replace the giddiness of drink.

He was upright just in time to see another few figures step through the Gate of the Sultana and saunter up to the ladies he was treating. “If the kitten down there can't keep up with you, then I'm sure you'll be more than satisfied with me.”

J’torha’s ears perked up to listen better, and the midlander girl gave the newcomer the sort of half-hearted chuckle that only comes out (as he knew from experience) when a woman wants to end a conversation. “I’m happy here, thank you,” she told him curtly.

“Come on, gorgeous,” the stranger drawled, stepping closer. “I can pay, if that’s what you’re after…”

J’torha started up the steps, tail twitching with irritation. Meanwhile, the midlander girl was having none of it, tossing her hair and turning away. “You can’t afford me.”

As she tried to walk away, the man - either a tall midlander or a short highlander, from this distance J’torha couldn’t tell which - followed her, catching up to her in two long strides and reaching out to roughly grab her by the arm. “Listen you little—”

SHING!

The chakram flew before J’torha even realized he’d drawn it, flying true to its mark and colliding with the stranger’s wrist all the way from a flight and a half of stairs below. The man cried out and stumbled back, clutching his bleeding wrist as the chakram returned to J’torha’s outstretched hand. He bounded up the last few steps to the woman’s side, ears flattening menacingly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I—”

“Get going before I give you a matching set!” J’torha threatened, gesturing with his chakram to the man’s injured wrist.

The man and his companions, miners by the look of them, didn’t need to be told twice; the injured one scrambled to his feet and away, grumbling something angry and unintelligible under his breath while his two companions in tow carried on about how a woman wasn’t worth a fight in this heat.

J’torha glared at their backs until they’d faded back into the crowd inside the gate, then turned back around to find the seeker girls fussing over the midlander’s arm as the woman herself tried to quell their concerns.

“Are you alright?” J’torha asked.

The midlander rolled her eyes. “Please,” she sighed, “how fragile do you think I am?”

J’torha’s smile returned at the reassurance and he visibly relaxed, though the midlander’s friends seemed worried. She paid them no mind, however, instead placing a hand on her hip and looking J’torha up and down. “But… thank you, adventurer.”

J’torha’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head, uncharacteristically humble. “Oh, I’m not an adventurer,” he clarified.

The midlander raised an eyebrow, giving J’torha another long look before shrugging. “Maybe you should be.”

Eyebrows shooting up, J’torha had no time to reply before the midlander and her two friends took their leave back into the city proper, responding to J’torha’s plea for their names with only a chorus of giggles before they, too, melded into the crowd. J’torha followed them as far as the arch of the gate, watching the sway of their hips as they left, until he was alone again.

Staring wistfully after where the trio had disappeared, he leaned against the cool stone of the gate, only to hear the crinkle of dry parchment under his shoulder. When he looked to see what he’d touched, J’torha found a leaflet haphazardly pasted to the wall, advertising a free company called “The Blessed Twelve” to adventurers young and old. He examined the poster for a moment, glancing between it and the spot where the trio had gone. The gears in his head started spinning.

Maybe...

- Fragmented - (dead; stay tuned for the next one!)

Beyond an understandable jump when the wine hit him, Isaac Abramson’s reaction to the incident was much more subdued than Ashe’s. He let them get their panicked apology out of their system before holding up a hand with a gentle smile and shaking his head.

“No need for all that,” he assured them, gesturing down at his clothes. Where they should have been stained, the wine instead beaded up like raindrops on glass, dripping to the floor without a trace. He paused to call a server over with a wave before guiding Ashe away from the puddle of wine and continued without skipping a beat.

“See? No harm done,” he smiled down at Ashe, plucking a flute of rosé champagne from a passing tray without so much as a glance and offering it to them. “And thank you for accepting our invitation. This event would be nothing without brave souls like you willing to take a chance.” He smiled warmly, and genuine interest bloomed across his features. “How did you find the trip up the mountain? I know it can be nerve-wracking for some. I’m not a huge fan of it myself, to tell you the truth.”

Crash!

The musical sound of glass breaking from across the room hushed the party for a second, but conversations quickly picked up once everyone realized it was nothing but a dropped tray. Isaac frowned at the sight for a moment, but shrugged, turning back to Ashe with a smirk. “And look,” he chuckled, “you’re not the only one to spill something tonight.”

_@LadyAnnaLee

---

Beneath the chandelier, Raphael Abramson was chatting airily with a few guests. As luck would have it, a few of the ones he spoke to broke away as Varia approached, and he was able to give her his full attention.

“You really are too kind,” he replied confidently, offering Varia a dip of the head. “My brother is shy about flaunting, but as you can see, Reuniting is very much a vital part of our lives.” He gestured around the foyer. Beyond the lotus motif in the mandala on the floor, if one looked closely they’d find renditions of lotuses in the woodwork, adorning the crown moulding and the rails of the stairs.

“Truthfully though, you’re right,” he added, sounding a little more sincere than his earlier entrance. “We were incredibly fortunate, in more ways than one as you might be able to guess.” He took a drink of the champagne in his hand, gesturing at the staircases. “Oh, and the holograms are on a motion sensor. I’ll admit, I had a lot of fun experimenting with them when they were first installed.”

Before Varia could get out her next question, the crashing of broken glass sounded through the foyer, fairly near where the two were standing. Raphael glared at the scene of broken glass and servers for a moment, looking utterly shocked and a little perturbed, before he schooled his features into something more polite.

“Oh dear, these things do happen,” he half-apologized, still looking a little unsettled until his smile finally returned. “But we take these risks for things we deem important, don’t we?”

He listened intently to Varia’s last question, nodding sagely. “Well, not just tonight,” he corrected her gently, “but hopefully before the week is done we’ll have more Reunited here than Fragmented. Although, if even one pair can find each other here, my brother and I will consider this event a success.” He eyed the edge of the room, where one couple were passionately kissing without a care in the world, and chuckled. “And it looks like we’ve done it!”

He shook his head amiably, turning the conversation to Varia. “But beyond any of that, I’m afraid I’m not sure of your name! Which of my esteemed guests would you be, Miss..?”

_{@Angel Vicky}

---

In the wider area, a minor commotion started weaving through the party, in the form of an average height blonde woman wading through the crowd. She wore a glittering midnight blue cocktail dress and a pair of large glasses, and trotting alongside her at the end of a short leash was a dalmatian in a blue polka-dot bowtie collar and a vest that read “SERVICE DOG - DO NOT PET”.

The most notable thing about her, though, was that she was touching everybody. She drifted through the crowd excitedly, never staying in one place for long, with her arms out like tendrils, brushing against every exposed hand or arm she could reach. Many simply gave her an odd look before returning to their conversations, but a few protested. Rather than speaking, the woman replied with sign language, which translated in the ears of onlookers as a woman’s voice cheerfully saying, “Sorry, just trying to expedite the process!”

---

Of Blood and Magic

Whoops! Blame shit data reception

Of Blood and Magic

---

---

Aaron nodded to Salem and the three of them set off where they vaguely remembered Sariel’s tour taking them before. As they began to walk, though, Aaron simply shrugged.

“He didn’t want anything very interesting,” he replied casually. “He just wasn’t sure where to go for dorm inquiries. Turns out he got reassigned as well.” Aaron glanced over to Salem.

Lilie's curiosity got the better of her, looking between both Aaron and Salem as they walked. "Max, too? It's like a game of musical chairs," She noted. "How did you know he got reassigned?"

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Oh, because his new master is friends with mine,” he clarified matter-of-factly, though a shiver did worm its way up his spine. “And judging by tonight, it looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Salem tried not to grimace as Aaron said the word master once more, this time referring to another vampire. True he understood how it must be hard to break years of beatings, but it was a bit sad to watch any spec of self worth dwindle each day in him. "Who's his new partner? Perhaps he can arrange a play date to allow him to come to the picnic?" Salem said poking fun at how Aaron made it sound like they were children to Varis and this new Vampire.

Now it was Aaron’s turn to try not to grimace: something about childish language always turned him off, and Salem’s little jab rubbed him the wrong way just as Max’s had on the phone. “Eris Samael,” he replied flatly, clearly unamused. “The one who burst into Treaty Law, remember?”

Lilie barely contained her squeal of excitement, her hands flying to her mouth in an effort to muffle it. All that came out was a short sound, but her excitement came out in other ways. She was practically jumping in place, hands waving around excitedly. She couldn't believe it, Eris Samael was part of her group! Well no, Max was, but they were basically a pair, right? Did that mean she would see him? What if he came to their study sessions? Could she actually talk to him? What if they got to talk?!

"Are you sure?!" Lilie asked, eyes wide as she prayed for a good answer. Before getting a response, she continued, "I loved him in Sunset, he was so dreamy! I don't care what anyone says, he and Samantha Russell had way more chemistry than him and Rosaline Blackdale! The way he holds himself, the way he holds her hand, that little wink of his—it's all so perfect! He's so much hotter than Julius Moraine, I don't even know why people bother comparing the two when it's so easy to see which one of them dominates the polls!"

Salem glanced over at Aaron, giving him a look that could only be read as retained laughter. He let Lillie have her moment if it meant her happiness and a distraction from his current predicament. "Can't say that I know this Eris Samael. Or at least I haven't seen his films. Maybe we can have a sleepover or something one night and you can show me your favorite films of him."

"Yes!!! That's such a good idea!" Lilie jumped on the chance. "We could all get together and watch The Blood War!"

Aaron winced at Lilie’s squeal, that grimace from before threatening to sneak to the surface once again. He’d seen some of Eris’ films too, but he had never understood this infatuation with celebrities. Then again, perhaps growing up under the roof of royalty just dulled him to star power. He could conclude, though, that despite Eris being nice enough so far, Lilie might have a different opinion of the vampire if she spent a few minutes alone with him.

At the mention of The Blood War, however, Aaron couldn’t help but burst out a laugh. “You know what, I might actually take you up on that,” he told Lilie, chuckling. “That movie is hilarious.”

"Wh—" Lilie's bubble of joy popped at Aaron's words, her jaw dropping. "What? No, it's a historical drama about the events leading to the formation of the treaty!"

Aaron could only laugh a little more, despite himself. Once he composed himself a little more, he shook his head. “It’s definitely a drama, but I wouldn’t exactly call it historical.” He sighed, smiling as he remembered his mother’s live commentary when he’d watched the film with her for the first time. “Definitely a fun watch, though. Especially in my family!”

Salem went to go place his hand on his chin, a slight movement reminding him of the cuts and making him think better of it. He hummed a thoughtful hmm as Aaron spoke. "I suppose I could see some similarities between you and Eris Samael. Perhaps your lineage is much like you and thus easily shown through him."

The grin was all but slapped off Aaron’s face, and his gaze snapped over to Salem with brow furrowed. “What on earth makes you say that?” He asked, desperately hoping that Salem was referring to the fact that they were both blond and not implying that they at all behaved the same.

"Well your looks for starters. Blonde hair, fair skin, similar build. Really it's a perfect cast." Salem neglected to mention how they both have an air of arrogance to them, they are both flashy in their own regards, and each clearly thinks too highly of themselves. However Aaron's tone and gaze told him that he shouldnt reveal such details lest he gain his rancor.

Aaron squinted at Salem for a moment, not buying a word of it. They had, what, blond hair in common? Even so, even that detail was slightly off. Eris Samael being a “perfect cast” for Landar Starag himself was almost laughable. His performance was excellent, that much Aaron would freely admit, but the closest detail he shared with the Starag patriarch were the artificially blue contacts he’d been coerced into wearing for the part.

“You did see that painting of my grandfather at Her Highness’ manor, right?” he questioned, a hint of sharp sarcasm sneaking into his voice. “Mr. Samael put on an admirable show, but he’s not exactly a stand-in for the man himself.”

"I was a bit distracted by the vague rules, body modified vampire, creepy blind woman and oh yes her highness herself, to pay too much attention to the portraits that lay on the wall. I'll have to pay closer attention when I'm there next break." Salem's tone was as friendly as ever, yet carried a hint of annoyance at the other mage’s denial at the obvious.

The mere mention of Vanessa made Aaron’s skin crawl, but turning the conversation to the next break and Salem’s planned castle stay was (thankfully) enough to push her from his mind. He shook his head, though a wry smirk did curl his lip. Salem would have a hell of a time if he tried to convince the other Starags that Eris was in any way comparable to any Starag, and the very thought of three tiny blonde women laughing the idea out of the room was enough to lift Aaron’s spirits again. “Whatever you say,” he conceded smugly, shrugging. “You’ll have plenty of source material available when you get there.”

There was a brief silence as the reality of that statement sank in, and somewhat of a somber mood fell over the group again. Aaron spun his ring, wondering if now was a better time to repeat his offer from the night before, or if he should even repeat it at all. But he’d been ordered to get close to Salem, and the plant mage was clearly struggling despite his outward demeanour, so surely at least it couldn’t hurt?

“Speaking of which,” Aaron added more quietly, looking over Lilie’s head to Salem. He debated pulling Salem aside, or waiting until later, but Lilie already knew about Salem’s investigation, and Salem had only reacted poorly to any attempt at discretion, so he decided to come out with it. “My offer from last night is still open. There might be something I can do to ease your family’s minds throughout this whole… process, if you’ll let me.”

Salem's eyebrow arched at Aaron's daring proposal. How many times did someone have to reject him for him to understand what it meant? Or was he the type to have never been rejected and believes he will inevitably get his way if he asks enough. Regardless of the answer Salem would hear his proposal to see what the mage had in mind. "What were you thinking?" His voice was flat and devoid of any hope.

Though his voice didn’t quite betray it, Aaron had a hunch that Salem would be suspicious of him no matter what he did. Of course, given his own orders, maybe that was warranted, but that didn’t make it any less exhausting to talk to Salem when the man seemed to carry this air of superiority just because he was raised differently.

Maybe Aaron was more irritated than he thought.

Taking a breath to calm himself, Aaron’s tone was sincere when he spoke next. “I can write a letter to your family to tell them you’re well and inform them of the investigation. That way at least they’ll know you’re okay and have some idea what’s going on, instead of worrying themselves sick over radio silence.”

Salem's brow furrowed a bit as he heard the proposal, something someone raised with a silver spoon would suggest. Not that he wasn't raised with one himself, but at least he could see the severity of this idea. "So all you mean to do is write a letter on my behalf?" He asked feigning curiosity.

Aaron nodded. “Coming from me, no one should bat an eye, and when they check it for anything suspicious—which they will, by the way—they’ll find nothing but a letter on behalf of a friend.” He gave Salem a serious look. “I can even inform Princess Ryner about it, if you’d like. If so, any investigator would be hard-pressed to see it as anything but innocent.”

"That's...not a bad idea...is what I would say if it was anything but. However I fear that you doing so, Starag or not, would be viewed as impeding in the investigation and would only cause for it to take longer or a darker turn. I do appreciate your concern and want for help but I can't agree to what it is you're asking of me. However what you do on your spare time is not up to me nor does it require my approval." Salem hoped that Aaron would catch the hint he was throwing, but didn't fully know if the mage spoke in such subtleties.

Lilie looked between the two, quietly listening. It tore her heart to know Salem wouldn't be able to see his family, and she thought Aaron's offer was so touching. She was surprised Salem rejected it, though at that point she did walk ahead a little, turning around and walking backwards so she could face them.

"But that's what friends are for!" Lilie insisted, breaking her silence.

Aaron nearly rolled his eyes at Salem’s remark. True, fair enough, it was probably prudent to err on the conservative side when it came to accepting help while under investigation, but he didn’t seem to realize just how much weight the Starag name could carry in a situation like this. He never really had much reason to use it until now, but Aaron was sure that he could make it work to Salem’s benefit if he would only let him. But he was insistent, and as far as Aaron was concerned, there was nothing to do but accept his answer.

Lilie’s interjection made Aaron’s expression soften, some of his lingering spite melting away. He offered her an appreciative smile, and looked over to Salem. “If you’d rather I not, then I won’t,” he assured him, “but the offer is open if you change your mind.”

Lilie gave Aaron a look of disapproval, wagging her finger at him. "No, you're going to do it," She informed him plainly. "Salem can't ask, so I will. It'll be a favor from me." She cleared her throat as she tried to give herself a more uppity expression. "If you would be so kind as to inform the Spellman family, we would be utterly grateful." Her tone could have been mistaken for a mocking one, her words drawn out and delivered stiffly in what she assumed was a noble tone.

Brows knitted together, Aaron shot Lilie an utterly confused look. Was everyone just picking on him tonight?! He was briefly overwhelmed with an urge to veer off and head back to his dorm, but even that was out of the question if what Max told him was true. Besides, without a key it wasn’t like he could get in anyway.

Good grief, this night was testing his composure. Luckily it had been bred into him strong, and with a breath Aaron gathered himself again, even if his reply came out a little stuttery. “I— Lilie, I’m not going to contact his family if he doesn’t want me to,” he tried to reason.

"But I want you to," Lilie replied in earnest.

Aaron heaved a sigh. He would never understand humans.

Or, human-raised mages anyway. The urge to clap his hand to his forehead was strong, but for Lilie’s sake he refrained. “I do too!” he defended instead, gesturing to Salem. “Talk to him! He’s the one who won’t let me.”

Lilie frowned at Aaron's response, a little confused, but she gave Aaron a sincere, pleading look. "But you should do it anyway. You're a good person, and you're doing a really nice thing for a friend. If it was the other way around, I know Salem would do the same for you," She gently prodded Aaron, clasping her hands together. "Would you send it? Pretty please? For me?"

"She's not wrong. If it was me I'd go behind you and do it anyways. It's what friends do. But once again, what you do on your spare time is none of my business. If you write a note to my family telling them you've befriended me and that I am safe and you were concerned about the fact that I am incapable of reaching them, well I couldn't stop you because that is your prerogative." Man was Aaron dense.

Aaron glanced between Lilie and Salem as they spoke, confusion and frustration only mounting as they went on with what sounded to him like utter nonsense. So they were telling him that after Salem saying no, he should go behind his back and do the thing anyway, because that’s “what friends do”, and that Salem would betray him just the same if the tables were turned, and that all somehow… was a good thing.

What?!

As much as he wanted to groan out his frustrations, he kept his anguish inside for the sake of politesse as he struggled to grasp this concept that seemed so natural to these two. He was a good person if he blatantly went against someone’s wishes and behind their back to help them? Sure, maybe the intent was fine, but if Salem wanted the help, wouldn’t it have been so much simpler if he said yes? Yet here he was, all but begging Aaron to go against what he’d been told. Shouldn’t an hour with Count Julian bloodying up his knuckles have demonstrated to him why Starags weren’t particularly good at disobedience? And how on earth was he meant to procure Salem’s family’s contact information if Salem wouldn’t outwardly cooperate?

He was silent as they approached the infirmary until he finally let out a breath. “Whatever you say,” he conceded again, sounding defeated as he opened the infirmary door for his companions.

Salem let out a light hum as he spoke to no one in particular, more close to speaking aloud to himself. "I wonder if Princess Ryner has information on family members and emergency contacts. I believe I recall filling out a form and having added my mother as the emergency contact. No doubt that she would be a source of wisdom if ever I lost her number or my phone." Salem walked past Aaron, thanking him for holding the door as he went in.

Lilie watched Salem, waiting for a second before placing herself between Aaron and the entrance. "Did you get the hint?" She whispered.

Aaron glared a hole into the back of Salem’s head as he passed. He thought humiliation was Varis’ forte, but apparently it was a more common tool outside the castle than Aaron realized. Mocking a man for being unfamiliar with backwards human customs; what a way to cry for help.

Raising an eyebrow at Lilie, he couldn’t bring himself to give her a snippy reply, and simply closed his eyes and nodded. “I think so, yeah.”

She beamed up at him, taking his arm with hers as she pulled him along. "I knew you were a good person," She told him happily, dragging him along with her into the clinic.

Salem's eyes wandered around as he took in the sights, noticing a cluster of plants by the windows that when mixed together helped to create a potion to alleviate pain. His gaze moved on over towards the mage and the book she was reading, though its title remained hidden by the table it lay on. Salem knocked on the door as he stood by it, using his second knuckles to knock three times to catch the mages attention.

“Come in, come in. I’ll take it it isn’t an emergency.” The woman’s voice carried with practiced ease, waving them to approach her desk. “What are you doing at the infirmary then?”

"No emergency. I just need some gauze bandages to wrap my hands in." Salem held them up, knuckles towards the woman to show her the damage. "That and if you could spare a few cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol to clean and sterilize the wound as well. I run a clinic outside of here before I attended so I won't keep you from your book."

“Oh dear. Rough day at the Arena? Unarmed combat isn’t usually the first subject but the Arena Master like to changes things sometimes.” The woman clicked her tongue sympathetically as she stood, stepping over to a few cabinets and pulling out the requested items. She returned to her chair, taking care of the wounds herself. “It’s my job and it’s a slow day. The book isn’t going anywhere so just relax.” She said as she began dressing his wounds. “Who are your friends here? Did they need medical attention or are they just moral support?”

Salem sat down in front of her and laid his hands on the table. Chuckling slightly as she asked about Lillie and Aaron. "That's Aaron Starag and Lillie...huh, I don't know her last name… Well they met me after class to hang out but were concerned for my wounds and thus we ended up here before going about planning a picnic."

Lilie waved at the receptionist, finally releasing Aaron. "It's Dionne, by the way," She told Salem with a small nudge. "And yeah, we're both friends offering moral support."

“Isn’t that sweet. It’s nice to meet everyone.” The mage cooed as she finished cleaning one hand and started bandaging it. “How has everyone’s first day been? I know the transition can be hard. Doubly so for some.” She asked as she switched hands.

"It's been an experience I won't soon forget," Salem said as he winced through the burn if the alcohol. "I had no idea that school could be so...eventful in just a short few days. I suppose it's good that today has been slow for you though, wouldn't want to see too many students here so early."

Lilie frowned at the question, rubbing her sore arm. How was she supposed to respond to that? She gave the mage a small shrug, trying not to look too down. She forced herself to perk up, nodding in agreement with Salem.

"Yeah, really eventful!" She forced a smile, though after a few seconds she dropped it and replaced it with a real smile. "It's a good thing I made some friends! Not really sure what I would have done otherwise…"

“Friends are what will get you through the rough times. That and willow bark tea for the hangovers of course.” She chuckled as she patted Salem’s bandaged hand gently. “Was there anything else I can help you with today?”

"I don't suppose there is. Thank you once again for your hospitality and what you do for this school." Salem stood up and gave the woman a bow, turning back to Lillie and Aaron as he headed towards the door. "Shall we?"

Aaron was content to stay quiet as the other two chatted with the nurse, taking a moment to enter Lilie’s last name into her contact when she mentioned it. Dionne… it was delicate, feminine. It suited her well, he decided. He watched on as the nurse cleaned and bandaged Salem’s hands, letting his mind wander. If the consensus was that he should send word to Salem’s family, then he’d need to speak to Princess Ryner again; he wasn’t fond of bothering her twice in the span of a night, but he was sure she’d be understanding of his request. He’d also need to inform Varis—wait, he should ask permission, it’d come across more favourably that way—and arrange for the letter to be examined sooner rather than later. There was a small, spiteful part of him that wanted to forego the whole plan after Salem’s mockery, but he pushed that impulse aside. He had a duty to get close to Salem whether he wanted to or not, and hopefully the vitriol could be written off as frayed nerves from a difficult night with Count Julian. Aaron made a few mental notes to take care of everything and came back to his senses as the nurse finished her job, perking up when he was addressed.

“Indeed!” he replied brightly, though he did check his watch. Good grief, 5:10am already? “I have some time before I need to head back, where would the two of you like to go?”

Lilie scratched her cheek as she tried to think. Her eyelids felt a little heavy, but she ignored it as she thought of an idea. “I know! We should check to see if Salem’s stuff made it to the dorms,” She suggested. “We’re all neighbors, too, so it’ll be easy to point out where each of us live so we all know for the future.”

Aaron hadn’t quite been expecting that, but it made as much sense as anything else. He wasn’t fond of the idea of setting foot on a noble’s property without permission—man, Salem belonging to an Astorio would take some getting used to—but at least he’d be close to his own dorm when his curfew rolled around. “Good idea,” he replied to Lilie, before turning to Salem. “Do you have a key?”

Salem thought back onto his interaction with the student housing representative and realized he hadn't received a key to his dorm. His lips curled down into a worried frown as he thought about how to enter his new abode. "Now that you mention it I don't. Maybe the front door will simply be unlocked or perhaps the student housing building could provide me with one?"

Lilie opened her mouth and then closed it. Right, the move meant Salem probably didn’t have a key. “Then let’s go get one!” She cheerfully said.

Tilting his head in thought for a moment, Aaron wondered if Salem’s dorm might indeed be unlocked. Or, accessible anyway. On the first night the keys had been in the mailboxes, would they risk that after dorms were meant to be claimed?

“A groundskeeper let me into my dorm last night after dinner, but they were expecting me,” Aaron commented absently. “Lilie has the right idea, you might as well go visit the housing office and be sure about it.”

"May as well. I was just going to attempt the door or a window, but housing sounds like a much easier way to go about it. Who knows maybe we'll run into Max and can invite him over as well. Need to build that repertoire for treaty law after all."

---

_{On their way to pester @Scribe of Thoth}

Obscene's Scratchpad

Hider

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---

Aaron nodded to Salem and the three of them set off where they vaguely remembered Sariel’s tour taking them before. As they began to walk, though, Aaron simply shrugged.

“He didn’t want anything very interesting,” he replied casually. “He just wasn’t sure where to go for dorm inquiries. Turns out he got reassigned as well.” Aaron glanced over to Salem.

Lilie's curiosity got the better of her, looking between both Aaron and Salem as they walked. "Max, too? It's like a game of musical chairs," She noted. "How did you know he got reassigned?"

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Oh, because his new master is friends with mine,” he clarified matter-of-factly, though a shiver did worm its way up his spine. “And judging by tonight, it looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Salem tried not to grimace as Aaron said the word master once more, this time referring to another vampire. True he understood how it must be hard to break years of beatings, but it was a bit sad to watch any spec of self worth dwindle each day in him. "Who's his new partner? Perhaps he can arrange a play date to allow him to come to the picnic?" Salem said poking fun at how Aaron made it sound like they were children to Varis and this new Vampire.

Now it was Aaron’s turn to try not to grimace: something about childish language always turned him off, and Salem’s little jab rubbed him the wrong way just as Max’s had on the phone. “Eris Samael,” he replied flatly, clearly unamused. “The one who burst into Treaty Law, remember?”

Lilie barely contained her squeal of excitement, her hands flying to her mouth in an effort to muffle it. All that came out was a short sound, but her excitement came out in other ways. She was practically jumping in place, hands waving around excitedly. She couldn't believe it, Eris Samael was part of her group! Well no, Max was, but they were basically a pair, right? Did that mean she would see him? What if he came to their study sessions? Could she actually talk to him? What if they got to talk?!

"Are you sure?!" Lilie asked, eyes wide as she prayed for a good answer. Before getting a response, she continued, "I loved him in Sunset, he was so dreamy! I don't care what anyone says, he and Samantha Russell had way more chemistry than him and Rosaline Blackdale! The way he holds himself, the way he holds her hand, that little wink of his—it's all so perfect! He's so much hotter than Julius Moraine, I don't even know why people bother comparing the two when it's so easy to see which one of them dominates the polls!"

Salem glanced over at Aaron, giving him a look that could only be read as retained laughter. He let Lillie have her moment if it meant her happiness and a distraction from his current predicament. "Can't say that I know this Eris Samael. Or at least I haven't seen his films. Maybe we can have a sleepover or something one night and you can show me your favorite films of him."

"Yes!!! That's such a good idea!" Lilie jumped on the chance. "We could all get together and watch The Blood War!"

Aaron winced at Lilie’s squeal, that grimace from before threatening to sneak to the surface once again. He’d seen some of Eris’ films too, but he had never understood this infatuation with celebrities. Then again, perhaps growing up under the roof of royalty just dulled him to star power. He could conclude, though, that despite Eris being nice enough so far, Lilie might have a different opinion of the vampire if she spent a few minutes alone with him.

At the mention of The Blood War, however, Aaron couldn’t help but burst out a laugh. “You know what, I might actually take you up on that,” he told Lilie, chuckling. “That movie is hilarious.”

"Wh—" Lilie's bubble of joy popped at Aaron's words, her jaw dropping. "What? No, it's a historical drama about the events leading to the formation of the treaty!"

Aaron could only laugh a little more, despite himself. Once he composed himself a little more, he shook his head. “It’s definitely a drama, but I wouldn’t exactly call it historical.” He sighed, smiling as he remembered his mother’s live commentary when he’d watched the film with her for the first time. “Definitely a fun watch, though. Especially in my family!”

Salem went to go place his hand on his chin, a slight movement reminding him of the cuts and making him think better of it. He hummed a thoughtful hmm as Aaron spoke. "I suppose I could see some similarities between you and Eris Samael. Perhaps your lineage is much like you and thus easily shown through him."

The grin was all but slapped off Aaron’s face, and his gaze snapped over to Salem with brow furrowed. “What on earth makes you say that?” He asked, desperately hoping that Salem was referring to the fact that they were both blond and not implying that they at all behaved the same.

"Well your looks for starters. Blonde hair, fair skin, similar build. Really it's a perfect cast." Salem neglected to mention how they both have an air of arrogance to them, they are both flashy in their own regards, and each clearly thinks too highly of themselves. However Aaron's tone and gaze told him that he shouldnt reveal such details lest he gain his rancor.

Aaron squinted at Salem for a moment, not buying a word of it. They had, what, blond hair in common? Even so, even that detail was slightly off. Eris Samael being a “perfect cast” for Landar Starag himself was almost laughable. His performance was excellent, that much Aaron would freely admit, but the closest detail he shared with the Starag patriarch were the artificially blue contacts he’d been coerced into wearing for the part.

“You did see that painting of my grandfather at Her Highness’ manor, right?” he questioned, a hint of sharp sarcasm sneaking into his voice. “Mr. Samael put on an admirable show, but he’s not exactly a stand-in for the man himself.”

"I was a bit distracted by the vague rules, body modified vampire, creepy blind woman and oh yes her highness herself, to pay too much attention to the portraits that lay on the wall. I'll have to pay closer attention when I'm there next break." Salem's tone was as friendly as ever, yet carried a hint of annoyance at the other mage’s denial at the obvious.

The mere mention of Vanessa made Aaron’s skin crawl, but turning the conversation to the next break and Salem’s planned castle stay was (thankfully) enough to push her from his mind. He shook his head, though a wry smirk did curl his lip. Salem would have a hell of a time if he tried to convince the other Starags that Eris was in any way comparable to any Starag, and the very thought of three tiny blonde women laughing the idea out of the room was enough to lift Aaron’s spirits again. “Whatever you say,” he conceded smugly, shrugging. “You’ll have plenty of source material available when you get there.”

There was a brief silence as the reality of that statement sank in, and somewhat of a somber mood fell over the group again. Aaron spun his ring, wondering if now was a better time to repeat his offer from the night before, or if he should even repeat it at all. But he’d been ordered to get close to Salem, and the plant mage was clearly struggling despite his outward demeanour, so surely at least it couldn’t hurt?

“Speaking of which,” Aaron added more quietly, looking over Lilie’s head to Salem. He debated pulling Salem aside, or waiting until later, but Lilie already knew about Salem’s investigation, and Salem had only reacted poorly to any attempt at discretion, so he decided to come out with it. “My offer from last night is still open. There might be something I can do to ease your family’s minds throughout this whole… process, if you’ll let me.”

Salem's eyebrow arched at Aaron's daring proposal. How many times did someone have to reject him for him to understand what it meant? Or was he the type to have never been rejected and believes he will inevitably get his way if he asks enough. Regardless of the answer Salem would hear his proposal to see what the mage had in mind. "What were you thinking?" His voice was flat and devoid of any hope.

Though his voice didn’t quite betray it, Aaron had a hunch that Salem would be suspicious of him no matter what he did. Of course, given his own orders, maybe that was warranted, but that didn’t make it any less exhausting to talk to Salem when the man seemed to carry this air of superiority just because he was raised differently.

Maybe Aaron was more irritated than he thought.

Taking a breath to calm himself, Aaron’s tone was sincere when he spoke next. “I can write a letter to your family to tell them you’re well and inform them of the investigation. That way at least they’ll know you’re okay and have some idea what’s going on, instead of worrying themselves sick over radio silence.”

Salem's brow furrowed a bit as he heard the proposal, something someone raised with a silver spoon would suggest. Not that he wasn't raised with one himself, but at least he could see the severity of this idea. "So all you mean to do is write a letter on my behalf?" He asked feigning curiosity.

Aaron nodded. “Coming from me, no one should bat an eye, and when they check it for anything suspicious—which they will, by the way—they’ll find nothing but a letter on behalf of a friend.” He gave Salem a serious look. “I can even inform Princess Ryner about it, if you’d like. If so, any investigator would be hard-pressed to see it as anything but innocent.”

"That's...not a bad idea...is what I would say if it was anything but. However I fear that you doing so, Starag or not, would be viewed as impeding in the investigation and would only cause for it to take longer or a darker turn. I do appreciate your concern and want for help but I can't agree to what it is you're asking of me. However what you do on your spare time is not up to me nor does it require my approval." Salem hoped that Aaron would catch the hint he was throwing, but didn't fully know if the mage spoke in such subtleties.

Lilie looked between the two, quietly listening. It tore her heart to know Salem wouldn't be able to see his family, and she thought Aaron's offer was so touching. She was surprised Salem rejected it, though at that point she did walk ahead a little, turning around and walking backwards so she could face them.

"But that's what friends are for!" Lilie insisted, breaking her silence.

Aaron nearly rolled his eyes at Salem’s remark. True, fair enough, it was probably prudent to err on the conservative side when it came to accepting help while under investigation, but he didn’t seem to realize just how much weight the Starag name could carry in a situation like this. He never really had much reason to use it until now, but Aaron was sure that he could make it work to Salem’s benefit if he would only let him. But he was insistent, and as far as Aaron was concerned, there was nothing to do but accept his answer.

Lilie’s interjection made Aaron’s expression soften, some of his lingering spite melting away. He offered her an appreciative smile, and looked over to Salem. “If you’d rather I not, then I won’t,” he assured him, “but the offer is open if you change your mind.”

Lilie gave Aaron a look of disapproval, wagging her finger at him. "No, you're going to do it," She informed him plainly. "Salem can't ask, so I will. It'll be a favor from me." She cleared her throat as she tried to give herself a more uppity expression. "If you would be so kind as to inform the Spellman family, we would be utterly grateful." Her tone could have been mistaken for a mocking one, her words drawn out and delivered stiffly in what she assumed was a noble tone.

Brows knitted together, Aaron shot Lilie an utterly confused look. Was everyone just picking on him tonight?! He was briefly overwhelmed with an urge to veer off and head back to his dorm, but even that was out of the question if what Max told him was true. Besides, without a key it wasn’t like he could get in anyway.

Good grief, this night was testing his composure. Luckily it had been bred into him strong, and with a breath Aaron gathered himself again, even if his reply came out a little stuttery. “I— Lilie, I’m not going to contact his family if he doesn’t want me to,” he tried to reason.

"But I want you to," Lilie replied in earnest.

Aaron heaved a sigh. He would never understand humans.

Or, human-raised mages anyway. The urge to clap his hand to his forehead was strong, but for Lilie’s sake he refrained. “I do too!” he defended instead, gesturing to Salem. “Talk to him! He’s the one who won’t let me.”

Lilie frowned at Aaron's response, a little confused, but she gave Aaron a sincere, pleading look. "But you should do it anyway. You're a good person, and you're doing a really nice thing for a friend. If it was the other way around, I know Salem would do the same for you," She gently prodded Aaron, clasping her hands together. "Would you send it? Pretty please? For me?"

"She's not wrong. If it was me I'd go behind you and do it anyways. It's what friends do. But once again, what you do on your spare time is none of my business. If you write a note to my family telling them you've befriended me and that I am safe and you were concerned about the fact that I am incapable of reaching them, well I couldn't stop you because that is your prerogative." Man was Aaron dense.

Aaron glanced between Lilie and Salem as they spoke, confusion and frustration only mounting as they went on with what sounded to him like utter nonsense. So they were telling him that after Salem saying no, he should go behind his back and do the thing anyway, because that’s “what friends do”, and that Salem would betray him just the same if the tables were turned, and that all somehow… was a good thing.

What?!

As much as he wanted to groan out his frustrations, he kept his anguish inside for the sake of politesse as he struggled to grasp this concept that seemed so natural to these two. He was a good person if he blatantly went against someone’s wishes and behind their back to help them? Sure, maybe the intent was fine, but if Salem wanted the help, wouldn’t it have been so much simpler if he said yes? Yet here he was, all but begging Aaron to go against what he’d been told. Shouldn’t an hour with Count Julian bloodying up his knuckles have demonstrated to him why Starags weren’t particularly good at disobedience? And how on earth was he meant to procure Salem’s family’s contact information if Salem wouldn’t outwardly cooperate?

He was silent as they approached the infirmary until he finally let out a breath. “Whatever you say,” he conceded again, sounding defeated as he opened the infirmary door for his companions.

Salem let out a light hum as he spoke to no one in particular, more close to speaking aloud to himself. "I wonder if Princess Ryner has information on family members and emergency contacts. I believe I recall filling out a form and having added my mother as the emergency contact. No doubt that she would be a source of wisdom if ever I lost her number or my phone." Salem walked past Aaron, thanking him for holding the door as he went in.

Lilie watched Salem, waiting for a second before placing herself between Aaron and the entrance. "Did you get the hint?" She whispered.

Aaron glared a hole into the back of Salem’s head as he passed. He thought humiliation was Varis’ forte, but apparently it was a more common tool outside the castle than Aaron realized. Mocking a man for being unfamiliar with backwards human customs; what a way to cry for help.

Raising an eyebrow at Lilie, he couldn’t bring himself to give her a snippy reply, and simply closed his eyes and nodded. “I think so, yeah.”

She beamed up at him, taking his arm with hers as she pulled him along. "I knew you were a good person," She told him happily, dragging him along with her into the clinic.

Salem's eyes wandered around as he took in the sights, noticing a cluster of plants by the windows that when mixed together helped to create a potion to alleviate pain. His gaze moved on over towards the mage and the book she was reading, though its title remained hidden by the table it lay on. Salem knocked on the door as he stood by it, using his second knuckles to knock three times to catch the mages attention.

“Come in, come in. I’ll take it it isn’t an emergency.” The woman’s voice carried with practiced ease, waving them to approach her desk. “What are you doing at the infirmary then?”

"No emergency. I just need some gauze bandages to wrap my hands in." Salem held them up, knuckles towards the woman to show her the damage. "That and if you could spare a few cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol to clean and sterilize the wound as well. I run a clinic outside of here before I attended so I won't keep you from your book."

“Oh dear. Rough day at the Arena? Unarmed combat isn’t usually the first subject but the Arena Master like to changes things sometimes.” The woman clicked her tongue sympathetically as she stood, stepping over to a few cabinets and pulling out the requested items. She returned to her chair, taking care of the wounds herself. “It’s my job and it’s a slow day. The book isn’t going anywhere so just relax.” She said as she began dressing his wounds. “Who are your friends here? Did they need medical attention or are they just moral support?”

Salem sat down in front of her and laid his hands on the table. Chuckling slightly as she asked about Lillie and Aaron. "That's Aaron Starag and Lillie...huh, I don't know her last name… Well they met me after class to hang out but were concerned for my wounds and thus we ended up here before going about planning a picnic."

Lilie waved at the receptionist, finally releasing Aaron. "It's Dionne, by the way," She told Salem with a small nudge. "And yeah, we're both friends offering moral support."

“Isn’t that sweet. It’s nice to meet everyone.” The mage cooed as she finished cleaning one hand and started bandaging it. “How has everyone’s first day been? I know the transition can be hard. Doubly so for some.” She asked as she switched hands.

"It's been an experience I won't soon forget," Salem said as he winced through the burn if the alcohol. "I had no idea that school could be so...eventful in just a short few days. I suppose it's good that today has been slow for you though, wouldn't want to see too many students here so early."

Lilie frowned at the question, rubbing her sore arm. How was she supposed to respond to that? She gave the mage a small shrug, trying not to look too down. She forced herself to perk up, nodding in agreement with Salem.

"Yeah, really eventful!" She forced a smile, though after a few seconds she dropped it and replaced it with a real smile. "It's a good thing I made some friends! Not really sure what I would have done otherwise…"

“Friends are what will get you through the rough times. That and willow bark tea for the hangovers of course.” She chuckled as she patted Salem’s bandaged hand gently. “Was there anything else I can help you with today?”

"I don't suppose there is. Thank you once again for your hospitality and what you do for this school." Salem stood up and gave the woman a bow, turning back to Lillie and Aaron as he headed towards the door. "Shall we?"

Aaron was content to stay quiet as the other two chatted with the nurse, taking a moment to enter Lilie’s last name into her contact when she mentioned it. Dionne… it was delicate, feminine. It suited her well, he decided. He watched on as the nurse cleaned and bandaged Salem’s hands, letting his mind wander. If the consensus was that he should send word to Salem’s family, then he’d need to speak to Princess Ryner again; he wasn’t fond of bothering her twice in the span of a night, but he was sure she’d be understanding of his request. He’d also need to inform Varis—wait, he should ask permission, it’d come across more favourably that way—and arrange for the letter to be examined sooner rather than later. There was a small, spiteful part of him that wanted to forego the whole plan after Salem’s mockery, but he pushed that impulse aside. He had a duty to get close to Salem whether he wanted to or not, and hopefully the vitriol could be written off as frayed nerves from a difficult night with Count Julian. Aaron made a few mental notes to take care of everything and came back to his senses as the nurse finished her job, perking up when he was addressed.

“Indeed!” he replied brightly, though he did check his watch. Good grief, 5:10am already? “I have some time before I need to head back, where would the two of you like to go?”

Lilie scratched her cheek as she tried to think. Her eyelids felt a little heavy, but she ignored it as she thought of an idea. “I know! We should check to see if Salem’s stuff made it to the dorms,” She suggested. “We’re all neighbors, too, so it’ll be easy to point out where each of us live so we all know for the future.”

Aaron hadn’t quite been expecting that, but it made as much sense as anything else. He wasn’t fond of the idea of setting foot on a noble’s property without permission—man, Salem belonging to an Astorio would take some getting used to—but at least he’d be close to his own dorm when his curfew rolled around. “Good idea,” he replied to Lilie, before turning to Salem. “Do you have a key?”

Salem thought back onto his interaction with the student housing representative and realized he hadn't received a key to his dorm. His lips curled down into a worried frown as he thought about how to enter his new abode. "Now that you mention it I don't. Maybe the front door will simply be unlocked or perhaps the student housing building could provide me with one?"

Lilie opened her mouth and then closed it. Right, the move meant Salem probably didn’t have a key. “Then let’s go get one!” She cheerfully said.

Tilting his head in thought for a moment, Aaron wondered if Salem’s dorm might indeed be unlocked. Or, accessible anyway. On the first night the keys had been in the mailboxes, would they risk that after dorms were meant to be claimed?

“A groundskeeper let me into my dorm last night after dinner, but they were expecting me,” Aaron commented absently. “Lilie has the right idea, you might as well go visit the housing office and be sure about it.”

"May as well. I was just going to attempt the door or a window, but housing sounds like a much easier way to go about it. Who knows maybe we'll run into Max and can invite him over as well. Need to build that repertoire for treaty law after all."

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_{On their way to pester [Scribe of Thoth]}

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