[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/60169326-d55e-4adf-8f6d-dfd795abf6f2.png[/img][/center][hr] Max focused his gaze up toward Varis as he began speaking, although he was only listening halfheartedly after his exchange with Aaron. Not that he really wanted to hear about workload or some asinine group project he'd have to do; hopefully he didn't get stuck with anyone too horrible to interact with. What the hell did the Retriever mean, 'that might be his problem'? Whatever, he could grill him about it later, Count Sinne-Sinen-Cinnamon, Count Cinnamon had moved on to the actual material, and he was tossing an egg for some reason. If Max had to guess, he'd assume this was all the buildup to some painfully hamfisted metaphor that the Treaty's provisions were as delicate as an egg or something equally inane. Although, something Cinnamon said caught his ear. The human delegation was headed by Landar [i]Starag[/i]? He knew he heard that name before. No wonder the Retriever was so damn haughty about his skills; he wasn't a retriever, he was a damn lap dog. Max was tempted to send another sharp kick into the back of Aaron's chair, but he caught himself after his foot gave the slightest twitch forward. Unfortunately, Aaron's expertise in magic was still necessary, at least until Max could work out a basic grasp on his affinity. He needed to focus on the class anyway, he could get mad later. This school was so irritating. The first provision was rather interesting, at least. No doubt an effort by the Noilas to prevent the nobility from scheming against them in an attempt to seize power, but it also meant that the Noila line was the only thing keeping the government together, lest all the houses squabble over which minor house to elevate to royal status and inevitably start killing each other over it. A pipe dream, if nothing else. The second was where Max started to lose his cool again. Cinnamon's verbiage was nice, but all the meaning Max drew out from under it was that mages were abandoned by humanity as martyrs. Not to mention, the TA seemed to be drawing some sort of sexual kick out of the law about who can drink from which neck. Vampires do love their property, after all. Article Three was more to Max's liking, given that it was essentially a list of how leeches can be brutalized for thinking too highly of themselves and their boundaries. The [i]Solaris Pius[/i], however, drew Max forward in his seat with rapt attention. He'd never even heard of such a practice. No doubt whichever revolutionary - no, he said Original, that implies vamps made it; even tastier - developed it was a sick genius in his own right. It was evidently enough to make the entire Council cower if they removed it immediately. The Starag Commandment was another juicy bit, provided that race traitor actually had some semblance of sense in his head when he agreed to negotiate with unliving abominations. Could a magical failsafe of a scale large enough to punish all of vampirekind in the event of a broken Treaty truly exist? If so, why wouldn't it have been employed during the war? Was the mere threat of it deterrent enough? The Treaty already favored vampires heavily enough that Max couldn't see why they'd have a desire to tear it down in the first place. If anything it should be the [i]vampires[/i] who have a failsafe. His thoughts were interrupted by the abrupt slamming of doors and ostentatious announcement of some newly arrived vampire. What the hell did a leech need sunglasses for? He'd melt before he got any actual use out of them. What a tool. Wait. Max had seen him before. No, it must be coincidental. Some guy on movie posters wouldn't be here, prestigious as the Noila Academy may be, right? No, the pale girl in front of him seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion he did, Max must've had the right guy after all. He was under the impression that the vampires in attendance here were solely playing some political status game rather than actually trying to get an education - they were what, a hundred? What did they have to learn? But a celebrity - Eric... something... Eris Samael, thanks Paleface - already had status, going to a fancy school wouldn't get him anywhere in his career. Everyone else seemed to be ribbing on him, and for good reason. Still, Max had to respect the vampire's utter disrespect for the institution, even if that did just bring up more questions as to what Eris' game here was. [hr]