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Goddess above, Auberon swore he spent more time on the ground than he did on his feet. So much for armored knight certification; he'd never get back up with a million steel plates on top of him. Other than that paltry revelation, he couldn't really say he found the session informative or even helpful. The class got batted around for a few hours; that wasn't a lesson, it was a sink-or-swim mess that taught the drowners nothing and gave the floaters minimal experience.

Well, there was likely something to be learned in there somewhere, but the blond was certainly too frustrated to notice it, and that was [i]before[/i] he'd been thrown on his ass a few dozen times. At least actual sparring against a superior opponent gave him a chance; this drill didn't leave any room for anything more than the minor relief of a lucky block. A less virtuous soul might've at least drawn some petty satisfaction from Michail barreling his way through Kellen once or twice, but Auberon found only bitter reminders that his housemates were fucking stupid. Acting stupid. Whatever.

As if the Goddess herself had heard Auberon's misgivings, the class started toward the sauna at Kaira's suggestion. He couldn't find fault with it; he was far too tense that entire time, which meant he was far more tired than he should've been and on the cusp of flaring his Crest on the next unfortunate soul he accidentally bumped in the hallway. More than once he'd unwittingly sent a servant off-balance with little more than a brush of his hip when he was stressed as a kid, let alone an actual shoulder check in a crowded passage. But surely, if the blessed spas of Garreg Mach couldn't calm him, nothing could.

Auberon lingered under the fountains meant for rinsing off well after he'd dislodged any lingering dirt from the arena floor in hopes the water flowing over him would distract him from his thoughts. It didn't; he simply replayed the most prominent hits he took on an unilluminating loop in his head. With a shake of his head, Auberon tore his gaze away from the bare wall of the shower and departed for the public bath in search of a proper distraction. He almost turned around when he was greeted with Jorah and Kayden's derogation of Veronica, but he supposed he didn't really have any other choice of bathing partners. He certainly wasn't going to sit in a sauna with [i]Kellen[/i] right now.

The blond impassively continued into the room and slipped into the pool politely away from everyone's gaze. It was tempting simply to not engage, but then he'd just be running simulations in his head again, albeit with nicer décor and that strange-but-pleasant scent that lingered in the air. Auberon let his eyes wander in hopes he could still latch onto a distraction, taking in the decorative plants and weird shadow next to Kayden that he swore he saw in the periphery of his vision, only to disappear when he actually looked over. That whole area was hard to even focus on, now that he thought about it. Probably a trick of the steam; one of the servants must've dropped in a fresh stone over there before Auberon entered.

[color=ffd700]"This place needs a mosaic of Saint Cethleann,"[/color] He mused absentmindedly rather than voice his opinions on Adrestian character flaws, [color=ffd700]"To watch over the weary and remind Jorah not to covet another man's wife. Or is that perhaps improper for the men's bath?"[/color]

[hr][@Obscene Symphony][@POOHEAD189]
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