[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210324/dbe0bc0721edcec6f442140ab3598857.png[/img][/center] [hr] It took every ounce of willpower not to pretend none of this was being discussed like an eight year old, hands firmly over her ears and shouting loud enough to drown out what she didn’t like. She wasn’t certain if she felt like crying or laughing at the idea of [i]practicing[/i] with her Crest. Maybe a little bit of both and a heavy dose of nausea to accompany it. How did someone even begin practicing the sin of her forefathers and failures of bloodline? It wasn’t like the Crest’s ability was unknown―everyone knew the nature of the Crest of the Beast. It’d change her into something violent and uncontrollable and like Maurice, she’d find herself unable to change back when the Goddess saw what she’d become. Absolutely not. She’d been handling her Crest’s power just fine, kept locked tight inside the stronghold of her faith, duty, and devotion and she had no interest in exploring it’s potential or learning to control it in any other fashion. At least she wasn’t the only one with the same sentiment. Derec for whatever reason seemed as upset as she was, if not more so, and she wholeheartedly agreed with his desire to leave this awful speciticale behind. She made a mental note to catch up with him once his discussion with Professor Roland concluded; if not to offer a bit of solace, then at least to learn the answer to his question because she’d rather not attend these Goddess forsaken classes if she didn’t absolutely have to. And if Derec wasn’t offered an easy escape then it wasn’t like she was afraid to speak her mind. In fact, she had a great many words she’d like to say to Professor Lysander Roland before the day was out and each was sharper than the last. Euphemia had already admitted to not knowing the full extent of their histories and that meant that her brother was likely briefed to the same degree but she wasn’t naive enough to think that the one whose job was to oversee these events had such a narrow view of the truth. The jostling from her said drew her out of her irritable musings and while she couldn’t bring herself to return the quick flash of a smile from her friend, she did smack him gently in reproach. [color=FF650E] “It always comes back to Crests in the end, doesn’t it?”[/color] Clarissa sighed bitterly. [color=FF650E] “Professor Roland will be getting an earful about this when he completes his conversation with Derec. Besides the personal relationship each of us have with our Crests, catching us unaware with such a blunt proposal as experimenting with us and our abilities is the pinnacle of disrespect. This Unit is composed of individuals whose experiences in state and military outstrip their apparent age and that alone should have earned us a modicum of respect, not to mention the expected reciprocity from an institution so revered. Instead, they march us in, inform us of how a sensitive issue will be handled, and are surprised at the negative response! Could you imagine the Church using this tactic on the Roundtable? Walk into a meeting and dictate how they want to handle the expansion of the Church into Alliance territory? They’d be laughed out on the spot!”[/color] Her irritation grew until it was fury and she shoved herself to her feet once more. [color=FF650E] “Actually, I think I’ll go have that conversation now. They’re probably bullying that poor boy into taking this class he clearly doesn’t want to and frankly after this debacle, I don’t think they deserve the dignity of a private conversation.”[/color] Clarissa decided, storming towards the exit once more.