Scribe of Thoth

Of Blood and Magic

---

It was a good thing Aaron left the room when he did, if Max had to watch him and Lilie make fuck-me eyes at each other any longer he might've had to leave himself. As if he needed another reason to avoid that stupid fucking party, they'd probably be all over each other the moment they got drunk and thrown in a room with no vampires together. Then who was he supposed to talk to? He was already not a fan of this Madison girl and he doubted her friend Cannoli was any better, especially if they were all mutual buddies with the Retriever. He had to admit, though, he was surprised anyone could pull women by playing the cello of all things; what a fruity instrument.

Maddie turning the conversation on him and Salem barely registered until the plant mage started his anxious word vomit. The invitation seemed more aimed at the lovebird and her loyal pooch, and Max had never felt pressured to attend something in his life that didn't involve someone explicitly forcing him to go. He rolled his eyes rather blatantly; the fact that he was even expected to dignify that with a response was almost insulting. Maybe new girl wasn't familiar with his mannerisms well enough yet, but Salem should know better.

"Yeah, I'll pass. Don't know anyone there and definitely don't wanna end up roped into some obligatory gift basket crap," Max vocalized plainly. Why Salem was so eager to throw tea leaves at a party he wasn't even attending was beyond him; maybe he thought he had to bribe her to leave him out of it. Who the hell even drinks tea at a party, anyway? Max fully intended to spend Moon's Mirror the same way he spent every night, unless Eris had the gall to drag him off to some asinine event to show off. He was certain the actor had plans, though if everyone else's mage was off for the night, Max might get away with dodging a role as show puppy altogether.

Speaking of Eris, the level of irritating in this parlor was starting to exceed Max's patience, which meant sunrise must surely be soon. Cinnamon wasn't stupid enough to plan his event so poorly that his guests would have to be escorted out in wheeled boxes to keep the light away, so hopefully Aaron lingering like a tool meant the leeches were about to be dismissed. It was a good sign that he was taking longer than he did with the last few tastings, unless the good count decided he needed a spontaneous shoe shine. Quite frankly, he wanted to rip this tie off and not have to deal with one again for a solid few months.

---

Modern Fantasy With Lots of Explosions

I'm like tentatively interested. Sick design btw.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Clarissa evidently wasn't kidding in her introduction, her words were decisive and without undue subtext; apparently his qualms about her laying verbal traps were unfounded. If the Deer had any merits, it's that he doubted such rowdy individuals had the tact to weave daggers inbetween their words, and little motivation to do so even if they did. While the Edmund heiress herself may not follow that trend exactly, Auberon was thankful to avoid any politicking. He had enough of that at home.

"I appreciate the offer, but I mean it in the nicest way possible when I say that I hope I won't have to take you up on it," Auberon responded with a grateful nod of his head. Having a leash to put Jorah on when he needed it was undoubtedly helpful, though needing to rely on it was basically admitting defeat in the diplomatic sphere. It hardly reflected well on his leadership abilities if one uncouth colleague could stymie him completely; he still had naysayers in his own Houses to contend with, both Blue Lion and Galatea. Letting foreign nobles trounce all over him was just disgraceful.

The Archbishop's words, on the other hand, were a surprise. Auberon might've even called them troubling, were he not otherwise certain the situation was well in hand. Not the message about unity; such mediation and encouragement of peace was expected from the Church, even if he personally would've preferred the more competitive flavor of years prior. Nor the bit about them being of great character - of course he was, he bore the Crest of Daphnel and enjoyed the favor of the Goddess that accompanied it. Even the tone sounded far less grave than whatever Professor Roland had been hinting at back in the classroom. But the troubling part was the sheer insubordination of it all; Ioannis had been chosen as Archbishop and ordained under the eyes of the Goddess Herself. Unless the Garreg Mach steeple had been sundered by lightning and the Blue Sea Star had descended from the heavens to reduce Ioannis to ashes for his blasphemy without Auberon's knowledge, he was fairly convinced the boy's appointment garnered no disapproval from on high. He was a child, yes, but a child that spoke with wisdom beyond his years and the Goddess' blessing in every word. The Galatea heir assumed men of faith would have a little more, well, faith.

"I'm sorry to hear about your troubles, Your Holiness. I'm sure the clergy's misgivings are in good faith and come from a place of wariness that will be assuaged soon. At least, I'd hope the most holy men in the land are above petty scheming," Auberon confessed. Trying to take the Archbishop functionally out of the Church hierarchy stank of power plays and sedition to him, though his own experiences with established figures whispering in a child's ear admittedly might've been biasing him. "I'd like to second Clarissa's offer, for what little it's worth. If there's anything the Blue Lions or I can aid you with, please don't hesitate to ask." He nodded with determination, then turned back to Clarissa to see her off.

"Have a good day, it was an unexpected pleasure speaking with you. Tea sounds lovely, though I'll admit it wasn't an activity I've partaken in with any regularity," His etiquette was impeccable, of course, but Auberon couldn't say he was otherwise particularly practiced in the art. Tea in his household was reserved for the rare midday meeting with visiting figures of import, not a common occurance to pass the time. Though, Auberon supposed it would be both with the Archbishop present. "Still, do let me know when you're free after we've all settled in."

Finally, he bowed rigidly toward Ioannis. "By your leave, Archbishop, I should be going as well. I lost track of Kellen on the way over here and I'd been meaning to talk to him since this morning." The fact that Auberon had been more social with the commoners of his House than a fellow nobleman almost sounded like an insult to the Fraldarius. He was also tempted to hunt down one of his classmates that attended to fight to hear what happened, but Auberon had a responsibility to the Lions first and foremost; he could pick up a summary of the day's spectacle at dinner at worst. He had no doubt Jorah would be delighted to regale him with an account of Valerian's folly while he insistently violated the Auberon's personal space. No, that was probably asking for trouble, perhaps he should ask Kayden first.

---

@Achronum@Hero

Of Blood and Magic

---

The Retriever had gotten a little better at clapping back, for what little that was worth. If wanted to shut Max up, accusing him of being too heavily invested in a leech's well-being was certainly one viable method. Too little, too late, though. He'd already said enough to get everyone else curious; even the most decisive method of ending the discussion there would only veil Varis' involvement at best. Too bad he'd already committed to not playing word games tonight, that was almost tempting enough to bite on.

Oh well, that didn't mean he couldn't put his foot in his mouth just to say something.

He gave Aaron a subdued grin, as if he were politely flattered by the compliment - that was a compliment by talkative footstool standards, right? The other mages were wisely choosing to not get involved and try to divert the conversation from the verbal timebomb waiting to go off, but Max certainly wasn't going to just let that stand. He had a reputation, damn it. Besides, he could confidently say that he learned absolutely nothing about Eris there that he didn't know already, and the only mended fences between them were the ones that made a fucking vampire of all people more desirable as an ally than Sellout Starag.

"Yep, you know us," Max muttered humorlessly as he raised a hand and interwound two fingers, "Wells and Eric against the world." He punctuated his statement with a sarcastic chortle. "Hardly. Mister Samael tells me what to do and who to talk to and I do it to shut him up. If there was any proactivity involved I'd probably have tangible information right now instead of a nebulous idea that Her Royal Highness is a lying bitch. By the way, you can unclench your buttcheeks, I haven't been sent on any sketchy errands in a while so I think Eric got over whatever weird tantrum he was having with Count Sinnenodel." Not technically untrue. He had no idea what Eris' plans were going forward, and the leech certainly hadn't given any indictation recently that he was still mad at the count, but it was a bit of a stretch to think he'd dropped the issue entirely. Probably just focused on the Marivaldis for the time being, or wary of dancing to Ryner's tune too well. She clearly had an angle here in order to fuck up this royally - pun not intended - even if the test was a blatant mistake. Then again, her coverup of the murderer was pretty lazy too, maybe she was just getting complacent in her old age.

"Consider that little morsel your payment for the clock," The mage finished with a dismissive wave of his hand. Naturally, Aaron's paranoia and desire to please wouldn't let him accept that Eris dropped the issue, but Varis had no way of knowing about the mark. He could sweep every misdeed, every faux pas, every time he accidentally tripped and thought no one was around to see under the rug; they'd still have a lead and the Retriever would look like an idiot for barking up the wrong trees.

As for the life mage's invitation, he wanted to give it a hard pass. Parties around here were always a fucking disaster - case in point - even without hordes of other idiots he didn't know crowding around him and asking prodding questions. At best he'd run into a senior with his affinity whose brain he could pick for ideas, but given the bullshit nature of his magic, he doubted even that would be fruitful. Hell, he'd rather ask Feliks at that point anyway.

---

Of Blood and Magic

---

Most of the illusions sounded like the same inane teambuilding bullshit as the stupid constellation drawing exercise that he and Eris had been stuck into, but Lilie's description managed to catch Max's attention. Normally famous personages appearing wouldn't have been much of an interest to him - it was at the Crown's academy, after all - but that was precisely why the recollection stood out to him. What kind of state-sponsored illusion portrays Sybil Sinnenodel making old man Geoffrey her bitch? For an Eve, no less; it would've been a different matter entirely if it had happened in Varis' test to butter him up. If her leech sounded peeved about it though, it could've been a jab that Max was missing rather than some grand conspiracy that linked back to the Greta angle. Still, food for thought. Maybe he'd ask her about it when there weren't canine ears present.

He was surprised Maybelline or whatever her name was seemed like the only one interested in the conspiracy angle, though that wasn't too outlandish upon further consideration. Sure, she was probably a good little pawn, but she was on a first name basis with her leech. Flower Boy probably knew better than to stick his fingers into pies he didn't know the flavor of by now, and Lilie was airheaded enough she might not've even noticed Max said anything abnormal. The metal mage gave Aaron a delightful little grin, the type some shitheaded little brat gives another kid when he's about to tattle on them to the teacher.

Oh, how tempting it was to simply air out Varis' dirty laundry in front of everyone. The obvious reward was that Fido would probably faint on the spot, but beyond that, Varis would have a much harder time managing four different vampires that could be prying into his business than simply appeasing an overrated actor and dodging the detective work of his unenthusiastic lackey. The downside was, of course, that such a hamfisted approach would definitely bring extra trouble upon Max in retribution, and it wasn't like he'd discovered anything concrete enough to seriously hurt the leech yet. He'd have to settle for giving blondie a minor heart attack while he considered how to answer.

"I got one of the mental magic professors to outright admit it, if that wasn't a lie too. There were some... oddities, even considering the already odd nature of the test. Apparently Eric thought it was important enough to go to Ryner about it, and her cover story had more holes in it than the wall of an Astorio's training room," He explained grumpily, more for Aaron's benefit than anyone else in the room. If he looked too invested, it'd be suspicious. He needed to play the part of the unwilling slave that halfassed his job and glossed over crucial details, not an actual investigative threat that demanded attention. "For some reason, he thought I would be his best bet at uncovering... whatever she's hiding. I think he's just lazy. Anyway, I talked to the mage in charge, she fed me a load of crap that didn't even line up with Ryner's load of crap, and I couldn't even press her on it because she was under some spell that prevented her from talking further. Understandable, since I doubt vampires like having their minds read without some guarantee of privacy, but I just hate bad liars treating me like an idiot."

There, if he pinned all his anger on Ryner, he might get lucky enough to convince Aaron that he'd dropped Varis as the main source of investigation. That might at least stop the count from employing any active countermeasures against his digging, though he doubted it would do much to convince the man to drop his guard around whatever skeletons were lounging in the Sinnenodel closets.

---

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

The situation was surreal, to say the least. Auberon knew the Archbishop would be present at the monastery, but he figured they would've only interacted in the context of a far off authority speaking to the gathered masses. To see His Holiness descending from the dais to speak with students personally was even more humbling than standing in the cathedral proper. For one instructed his whole life to hold his head high, it was very strange.

"Your sermon was just what I needed, Archbishop. I'll admit, I've had quite a few surprises thrown at me today, and any amount of guidance from on high is appreciated," He replied a bit sheepishly, though he recovered his confidence quickly. Clarissa paying him a compliment caught him by surprise, if only because his House Leader duties had him internally floundering for the first time in years. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders, at least compared to the rest of her countrymen; if she thought he was doing a good job, he couldn't have been performing terribly. She also had a good enough head on her shoulders that he wasn't sure how loaded her question actually was. It could very well have been innocent conversation, but she could also be baiting him into saying something unpleasant about the Deer. Which, in fairness, he had quite a bit to say on that front.

"Frankly, I assumed I'd be the least prepared," Auberon admitted, "But it's good to know I'm not making a fool of myself unintentionally. The Lions seem like good people, though I've only had a chance to speak with Derec so far. Honestly, I can't tell if Lienna is avoiding us or if she's just a very driven person and hasn't had a chance to rest yet." Better not to bring Kellen up at all. Though loathe to admit it, Auberon didn't really have anything nice to say about the boy yet and his nerves seemed evident enough that the blond figured he shouldn't have to reiterate.

Come to think of it, had Kellen even caught up with him? He hadn't been paying attention during the service, as enraptured by the Archbishop's perfomance as he was. Maybe the Fraldarius was off vomiting, that's what anxious people did, right? What a miserable experience the lack of confidence must be. But he was getting distracted; and worse, might be coming off as rude to Clarissa.

Auberon made a show of considering his next point before continuing. "Working with the Crown Prince is less daunting than I would've assumed; claims he has a 'military mind' and carries himself accordingly, rather than what I'd've expected from royalty. Maybe I just like the competitive aspect he brings to the table." The blond shrugged nonchalantly. Now, how to address her final question? Tactless denouncement was hardly an appropriate topic in the presence of the Archbishop, nor was it constructive to building a functional relationship with Jorah, should word get back to him about what was said. On the other hand, it wasn't like Auberon could stand there and lie in the highest cathedral in Fodlan.

"Jorah is... Jorah. He's certainly friendly enough." And that was about the only merit Auberon could attribute to him so far, even if the irreverence that said 'friendliness' inspired was a bit unfamiliar to his noble sensibilities. "Though if I've misjudged him, please do let me know. The Deer conduct themselves a bit differently than I'm used to." At least, that was the only explanation he could think of as to why Clarissa was the only Leicester noble that acted like an actual noble.

As for the question she posed to the Archbishop, Auberon had to admit he was curious as well. He didn't really need to know the answer - he trusted in the Goddess and the inspired wisdom She granted to the Archbishop - but a conscious servant of the Goddess must surely be of more use than an unknowing instrument of Her will. Unless... whatever fate She had in store was contingent on them not knowing. Trying to keep up with the thought process of a deity was exhausting.

---

@Achronum@Hero

Of Blood and Magic

---

Max always forgot he was talking to a bunch of fucking weirdos. If Lilie thought the most eccentric part of her professor was going by her first name and not that she was evidently talking to her students with her coochie hanging out, her small hometown must've been more akin to a smelly hippie commune. That's not an eccentricity, that's a felony. Then again, he could say the same about Manuel trying to spear him, but at least the apparent danger was probably fabricated considering what the old man did to the furniture after he finished with their little exercise.

He gave Aaron a flat look after Lilie's comment. "That answer your question? They probably gave you the three professors that behave because you're high grade meat." His face quickly progressed from unamused to outright tired when the practical was brought up. Glad to hear he wasn't the only one that had a weird fucking experience, but he had the strangest feeling that he still got the shit end of the stick there. At least Maddie's illusions sounded consistent and didn't involve vampiric conspiracy, even if they were fucking terrifying.

"I got stuck on an illusionary stage with an evil clone of Eric as my director. And no, he can't fucking direct," Max grumbled, "And now I'm half-convinced I'm wrapped up in Ryner's political bullshit as a consequence. That test was such a shitshow that I'm surprised it was sponsored by the school at all, from what I gleaned from the mental magic professors' half-truths and nonanswers. Definitely hiding something, in any case. Somebody fucked up." He would've loved to elaborate and see if they knew anything, but with Aaron in the room he'd probably be losing more than he gained. Plus, this new girl and Aaron had clearly been acquainted beforehand, and probably had the same ugly views on leeches, which meant she was probably a snitch. Pale Girl had the right ideas but her baser instincts toward the local lapdog made her a poor confidant, and calling Flower Boy a trusted ally pained his soul. It didn't help that Max had no clue what Count Astronomy's game was yet, either. Managing Eris' weird thing for Varis wasn't worth shit if he let a different vampire fuck him over beneath his notice.

Still, talking shit on the school's competence was too good of a discussion to pass up. Especially those mental mage fucks. Fuck them.

---

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Once again, nothing went as planned. For some reason Auberon had still neglected to expect the unexpected from Garreg Mach, foolishly assuming that he'd gotten his strangeness for the day out of the way early when he was named House Leader. The peasant girl he'd previously written off was apparently sporting a Crest and already well on her way to cementing her position in the nobility, that scatterbrained Deer girl had somehow managed to drag Auberon's opinion of Alliance conduct even lower when the bar was already resting firmly on the floor, the last Leicester girl was even more of a nervous wreck than Kellen - which he wasn't sure whether to take as a sign that he'd been too hard on his housemate or if he should be simply pitying Isolde even moreso, and some Adrestian was challenging a Knight of Seiros to a duel. Sure, Auberon was flirting with the idea in the back of his mind too now that it was brought up, but he wasn't harboring any delusions that he'd so handedly win on the first day. And he certainly wouldn't be voicing such a thing in front of an audience. The blond was so busy reeling from Valerian's boast that he hardly even caught Her Future Highness' introduction. He could ask Kayden what she was like later if she came up. Probably.

The fact that he'd be present for a sermon by the Archbishop himself was so mundane in comparison to the rest of the day's events that Auberon barely registered the gravity of it until Professor Lysander had finished speaking. He knew, logically, that the midday sermons likely happened every day and that he'd be missing nothing that he couldn't hear tomorrow if he didn't attend. He also knew, logically, that Valerian would likely be beaten rather quickly and the entire spectacle would be anticlimactic. But illogically, Auberon wanted to see them fight. He wanted to see what made the Aegir boy so confident in his abilities. He wanted to see how those abilities fell short against Michail. He wanted to learn how to succeed by learning how to fail. He wanted to pick both combatants apart in preparation to crush them into fuel for his own ego in the future.

But he wasn't going to do that. Tempting the Goddess' ire was not something one did when faced with such an unnavigable and unexpected situation as the one Auberon had faced since he arrived at the monastery, and he was sorely in need of direction at the moment. The Archbishop's words may very well be the answer he needed. Pressing on through force of will alone was not an action he was a stranger to, but choosing a path that would work out eventually was not always more prudent than a path of moderation and contemplation.

Auberon let out a deep exhale as he stood from his seat. Lienna had run off again to talk to that standoffish Eagles professor - either she really didn't like socialization or she was an exceedingly busy woman. A shame, since he'd wanted to ask her about her position, but dinner would have plenty of time for that. With little fanfare and a quick glance at the departing Michail, he made his way to the cathedral.

"Hey, Kellen," Auberon started without looking back. He'd seen the boy hovering behind him as he walked, might as well start a conversation. But how to broach this? 'Hey, are you always crippled with anxiety or just in front of crowds?' 'What the fuck was that back there?' 'Do you need help with that? I know I sound like I'm mocking you with the offer.' Whatever, he could start with something inoffensive and ask later. "Have you ev-" He paused as he glanced backward, Kellen nowhere to be found. Huh. Must've had to use the latrine or something. Another conversation for dinner, then. With luck, nothing outlandishly strange would detract from that.

His thoughts cleared the moment he passed the threshold of the cathedral, replaced only with an intensified version of the reverent wonder he felt in each new area of the monastery he visited. There was no question - the Goddess' eyes were upon this place. Not the vigilant observation that She blesses the rest of Fodlan with, but a piercing, direct gaze; one that looked into the inhabitants' souls and saw all their natures laid bare. The sermon itself shouldn't have been anything remarkable - it was a passage Auberon had read many times - but His Holiness repeated it with such vigor that he couldn't help but view the words in a new light. In the short period after Ioannis had finished and before Auberon stood from the pew, all the jumbled pieces in his mind clicked together seemlessly. He had a role - House Leader of the Blue Lions. He had a task, even if it hadn't been entirely revealed to him yet. The only thing he lacked was patience for the fallibilities of his classmates, and that was easily acquired in the face of the Goddess' serene mercy.

When he rose, Auberon Galatea was the picture of saintly virtue - at least until his mortal sensibilities overpowered the divine perfection he sought to imitate. The Archbishop speaking to Clarissa immediately caught his eye; if he deigned to converse with her than surely any student could approach him for guidance. That was a rare honor, and Auberon didn't want to waste it. He approached cautiously to make sure he wasn't interrupting anything personal or private that Clarissa might have been sharing, then with more gusto as he caught only a token introduction.

"Your Holiness," Auberon interjected, bowing his head deeply. His instincts told him to fully genuflect, but he hadn't seen anyone else doing so and he didn't want to look like a fool. The fact that he was showing this level of respect to a twelve year old was completely lost on him. "Lady von Edmund," He added with a less impressive nod in her direction, "Pardon me if I'm intruding. It's truly an honor to meet you both in person and I couldn't resist killing two birds with one stone, as it were."

---

@Achronum@Hero

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

In hindsight, Auberon had met the day's events with far too little suspicion. He'd barely batted an eye when a change in tradition was announced, or when their class and their class alone was summoned, and now he learns the archbishop had apparently selected them all by hand for some nebulous higher purpose yet to come. At least the Goddess' intentions for testing him so were made clear before it was too late. This wasn't some diplomatic exercise by the Church, it was divine providence.

Other pieces were falling into place as well, to Auberon's surprise. The Lions in the room had crowded around him at the front, even the girl that had fled their first class in seeming disinterest. Explained why he couldn't find the Orhneaht girl earlier; she'd excused herself before he had a chance. Whether they acted out of Faerghus solidarity or simple tribalism and fear of strangers, Auberon was grateful for the perceived support - a group that rallied around him instinctively would at least listen when it mattered - and it did much to assuage his earlier misgivings. A small blessing from the Most High in the face of the world-shaking challenges She had put before them, perhaps.

At least one of the others seemed to have caught on to the gravity of the situation as well - a Golden Deer, of all people. Clarissa von Edmund; he needed to remember that. With luck, she was the cherished advisor that Jorah had boasted about and not just the underappreciated island of sanity in a sea of Alliance eccentricity. The other Deer seemed every bit as misbehaved as Jorah, and Auberon debated whether politely declining their invitation of 'Leicester hospitality' was an acceptable option in the face of Professor Lysander's urgings to get along.

Kellen's introduction confused Auberon as much as the boy himself did. The blond still had no idea how to read him - he seemed shy, but he'd jumped up to introduce himself unprompted twice now. Squirrely and awkward, maybe, or sheltered, or even just slow to settle in to life at the monastery. If he tripped over his words to that extent after volunteering himself to speak with ample time to ready himself beforehand, Auberon had no trouble believing he didn't enjoy surprises. He'd clearly given no thought to what he was going to say before he stood, and the introduction was quite frankly embarrassing. Not in the way the conduct of Jorah or - Goddess forgive his insubordination - Professor Michail was embarrassing, but in the uncomfortable, sympathetic way one might feel watching a friend accidentally trip in front of a crowd and become a laughing stock.

Auberon hoped he wouldn't be overstepping his bounds if he suggested Kellen work on public speaking later.

He stood shortly after his housemate sunk back into his chair, posture impeccable as he turned around to address the room behind him. Making the same speech twice always made him feel uncreative and boring, but he supposed introductions were important enough to repeat. "For those of you I haven't met yet, I am Auberon Casimir Galatea, heir presumptive to the Countship, appointed House Leader of the Blue Lions, and bearer of the Crest of Daphnel. For Professor Kaira's sake, I'd like to note I also enjoy prayer, along with the feeling of a weapon in my hands. Sometimes both at once." That sounded a bit dark in hindsight, but were the Crestbearers not the weapons of the Goddess? A prayer on one's lips with every swing seemed fitting enough to him. "I'm pleased and humbled to be working alongside you all. As Lady von Edmund said, the Goddess has brought us here for a reason, and I can think of no better compatriots than those She deems worthy of undertaking a task in Her name."

He dipped his head in a minimalistic bow toward the class before he returned to his seat. His gaze flicked over to Kellen briefly, to whom he offered a lighthearted shrug. Hardly a reassuring gesture, but it was the best he could do without words. With how close they were to the professors, he certainly wasn't going to risk whispering while someone else presented. Someone around here had to act like a noble, at least.

---

Of Blood and Magic

---

Wow, Flower Boy sounded like he almost bought it for a second. It was partly true, Max would be a good therapist; there was just the issue of no one else agreeing with him. Apparently telling someone that they're whining like a teenage girl and need to get over themselves is 'unprofessional' and 'bad psychology', even if it was an entirely correct assessment. Still, an amused snort sprung up from the back of Max's throat at Salem's suggestion. Quite frankly, it wasn't bad. Not at the Noila Academy, that would entail far too much contact with the nobility, but lecturing at some mediocre school out in bumfuck nowhere while keeping everyone guessing with flying objects seemed an entertaining way to kill time and fly totally under the radar. Of course, that offered no answer to the Eris question and Max certainly wasn't going to teach acting.

"Not a bad idea, I'll be sure to give Ryner a call if Eric ever gets staked by a crazy fan and I'm looking for new employment," he responded with a shrug. Decent backup plan; the only thing worse than dealing with that clown for the rest of his life was getting transferred to an even worse part of the circus, but maybe applying for a teaching position came with an assignment to some distant vampire with too many mages to begin with.

New girl's experience seemed pretty par for the course. Saying the professors had idiosyncrasies and not derangements was putting it lightly. He was pretty sure half of them had students doing stupid crap as part of an elaborate joke. Max certainly wasn't going to sing like a caged canary no matter how unsafe it made the magic. Wasn't life magic supposed to be the opposite of dangerous anyway? What, was he going to be too healthy afterward? Surprisingly, that mental magic professor seemed halfway normal on the surface. The others might follow the same pattern before one noticed they were detestible puppets of a tyrannical regime - probably because they wanted payback for years of getting ignored at lunch - but that was between him, Ismene, and anyone else who heard his tantrum through the walls.

"I think half of them are hacks and all the ones that aren't are insane. I can only imagine the higher level courses are taught by My spell theory professor tried to impale me on some invisible death bolt at one point." He glanced to Salem briefly, "Yeah, don't ever ask Professor Hot Wheels for help outside of class, he's a fucking psychopath."

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