Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Marlowe
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Bloated, ivory clouds loomed far above the Irinduil students’ heads and refused to allow any semblance of cerulean sky to peek through the bulk of their masses. They watched the monastery from the heavens, stagnant and stiff. Moisture hung heavy in the air and a brisque early autumn breeze whisked over the cobblestone pathways, gathering crisp, blotchy leaves in its invisible fingers. A rainstorm was on the horizon. Sherry hoped that she would not get wet.

The majority of them had arrived around an hour ago. A caravan of horse-drawn wagons had brought them most of the way up the mountain, but much to her dismay, they had to walk the rest of the way. It was a tiresome trek, but Sherry had made it alongside her compatriots– and Roland. If there was anyone she couldn’t stand to disappoint, it was them… and the commoners, of course.

Archbishop Augustine greeted them at the entrance to the monastery. A tall, petite man, he bore long, black and white silk robes. His silver hair was done down in a smooth ponytail and his pale lips curled into a smile as he brought his arms up to greet the students at his feet.

”Irinduil opens its arms to you, future leaders of Musentia. It is an honor to greet you as Archbishop of the monastery.”

Such flowery words– nevertheless, Sherry listened well to them. Augustine looked just as her father described him to her. Pristine. Delicate. Almost like a portrait that had been carefully and painstakingly painted by a master’s hand. It was hard to believe that the Archbishop had once overlooked his tutelage as headmaster of the Officers Academy.

The introductory speech went as one would expect. Augustine presented the dean of students, stern-faced woman by the name of Iris, and the professor of the Ivory Serpents, a man named Talbot. Much to her disappointment, the professor of the Scarlet Foxes was not present… though she supposed she could do without them for the time being. Then came the assigning of the house leaders. The Ivory Serpents were dealt the heiress of Luralei, Francette Albillion Luralei, as their leader– a quaint little thing with a round face and an aloof glint in her eye. After the cheers of celebration died, Augustine presented the leader of the Scarlet Foxes, who was, much to her elation and delight, no one else but herself.

House leader! she thought as Augustine’s drone vanished beneath the veil of her excitement. I must write father. No doubt he’ll be ecstatic.

The rest of the orientation went on without incidence. Then, the students were duly portioned into the two houses and the time came for a tour of the campus. Professor Talbot was quick to take over the Serpents, and Sherry watched as they were guided deeper onto the monastery grounds. It was a surprise when Augustine took over the Scarlet Foxes in turn. Sherry wondered where their professor could be, though she didn’t dare ask him such a question for the time being.

Their first stop was a pleasant garden that had been built in the very heart of the monastery. The scent of exotic flowers wafted through the air as Sherry peered through the intricate gates that wrapped around its perimeter. Stone benches and decorated tables had been scattered around the grassy areas. Augustine stepped forward and pulled a key from his belt before he opened the gate and ushered the newly dubbed Scarlet Foxes inside.

”The gardens will be free to use anytime when classes aren’t occurring,” he stated, ”you may use this area for leisure or study. At times, we have the students tend to the flowers. It’s a very relaxing area, even during the winter– we even have the students give suggestions on what to plant during the cold months. If you’re interested in helping out, please speak to Professor Talbot.”

Who would come to Irinduil to learn about flowers? With a sly, sidelong glance, Sherry leaned towards Parthenia and whispered into her ear. ”I suppose I will consider it if I wish to die of boredom.”

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While other students may have had the chance to have gotten acquainted with each other on the way there, Andrion had arrived at the monastery long before the others had. There were formalities to be performed, after all. Names to pay his respects to, as a child of the Church. He had spent the last month sequestered within the Irinduil Monastery, tempered by his austere surroundings and the natural beauty of the mountain it was built upon. Perhaps the priests and nuns thought him more pliable in isolation, figured that some time away from the Lower City would be enough to work the guttertrash out of him.

Turning a blind eye to the fact that he had lived in a Church-affiliated orphanage. Ignorant to the fact that he found the pleasures of the flesh to be the same sort of pleasure one could derive through appreciation of untamed majesty and the satisfaction of simple chores. Humans were of flesh and blood. All that they did, so long as it was rooted in their body, was natural, was good.

Still, when the month had passed and others of the Officers Academy began trickling in, Andrion had to confess: he wasn't so impressed. The girls, especially the ones that were set to be house leaders, were almost remarkably unremarkable, with proportions that were almost mannish! How could they, with ample opportunity for exercise and the diet that only wealth could provide them, end up with such disappointing figures? Why, the Francette girl had hips that were undoubtedly narrower than her shoulders! And the men too looked more like children than, well, men. Even the grimmest, most serious looking of them seemed to have forgotten to get a haircut for the last three years and now, every one of them seemed to sport the sort of vagabond-spikes one would expect out of a highwayman. Or a prostitute.

Maybe foppishness and androgyny was the natural state of even the finest military talents amongst the nobility though. Or maybe they figured that following in the footsteps of the archbishop and the professors would gain them some sort of advantage. Andrion wouldn't pretend he understood it.

Oh, but he did understand expressions and whispers, the sniggering slyness of a blue-blooded waif.

"What's this, House Leader?" Andrion's voice, unlike Sherry's, echoed against the walls of the garden. "The tour's hardly started, and you're already gushing over our venerable Archbishop's fine looks?"
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Nobles were usually not happy being around someone like her.

She was a drifter who sometimes sang or told stories on the street for a bit of extra coin. Her clothes were always dirty and her mannerisms sometimes questionable. Some were respectable and left her alone, others were egotistical and enjoyed kicking her while she was down. Lapis was rarely able to hold a pleasant conversation with one, since they wouldn't want to associate with her too much. She wasn't angry or spiteful; on the contrary, she understood. For this reason, Lapis avoided them when possible, and she'd done an excellent job of doing so.

So, when Mother Matilda brought her the “good” news that the caravan was going to be getting not just her, but the Heirs to House Marlon and Ciran respectively, Lapis packed what belongings she had and started her journey a good two weeks before the caravan was supposed to come.

No damn way was she going to be cramped with not one, but two nobles…

The Church had made damn sure that before she left, she had ample food and clean clothing to arrive in. They didn’t want her to face Augustine, the Archbishop himself, in rags and looking like a skeleton. So, they did their best with what they had, and Lapis had what she needed to look presentable.

And so, she walked at her leisure. And honestly? The trek was child’s play. She had even started singing during her walk up the mountain just to entertain herself.

Time seemed to fly quickly and before she knew it, the day for orientation was here.
And damn was she disappointed.

Most of her classmates were nobles or had some sort of brush with nobility. It wasn’t surprising, considering only the best of the best or the richest of the rich would be allowed anywhere near the damn place. But it also meant that she was undoubtedly the biggest street rat in a house of Suit Pigs, and she’d never felt more alone. The only one she could possibly relate to was the commoner who looked like he could swing her at enemies like a weapon.

Ugh.

The students were given a tour after orientation finished without a hitch, and Lapis was a little excited to see all sorts of new scenery. The gardens were very beautiful, and the flowers must taste as good as they looked. Would she get in trouble if she ate one?

She crouched a little to get a better look of them. Before the thought of picking one could cross her mind, she heard the giant one call out one of the Royal Suit Piggy, which Lapis couldn’t help but give her input.

”Can you blame her? The guy’s pretty.” She said, not caring if Augustine or the others could hear her. What were they gonna do anyway? Make fun of her for stating the obvious?

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After being forced to sit still for, however long, Elias had lost track after about the first two hours, having to trek up the mountain was a delight. It was a miracle he hadn't driven his carriage mates crazy with fingers tapping his knees or fidgeting with whatever he could get his hands on. The autumn air was refreshing though, despite the moisture in the air, and the view of the monastery from the march up was rather impressive.

The orientation speech was not so exciting, however dignified the Archbishop looked in his long robes. He made a note of the important figures that were standing in front of them. Though one of them appeared to be missing, hopefully that didn't foreshadow the rest of the year. He let his eyes wander about the rest of his classmates, many of whom he recognized and some he didn't, and what he could see of the campus. He was paying enough attention to catch the fact that Galbia's illustrious princess was made their house leader.

Delightful. He hoped that she would do a good job.

Once they were on the move again Eli elected to pay more attention. He would rather not get lost while he was here. He was curious as to where their own professor might be, but he wasn't going to interrupt. Not yet. The thought quickly left his head anyway as they were shown to the gardens. It wasn't exactly the forest back home, but the outdoor area was nice. He would rather be there than cooped up in his room or the library if he had to study.

A curious look crossed his face as a number of comments were made. First by the guy who looked like he could probably lift the monastery with one hand, and then the small, blue-haired girl. Neither of whom he recognized so commoners he suspected. Not that it particularly bothered him, his own house didn't have the most distinguished background despite what his father might insist upon. He was capable of reading history books just the same as everyone else.

He turned to Sherry with a faint grin, "I didn't know you had a type Princess."
Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Ithradine
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Roland always enjoyed the stillness and calm before a rainstorm. The muted sky and gentle winds a prelude to a force of nature impossible to precisely predict. A number of his most memorable hikes occurred during a downpour, drenched to the bone and winds cracking trees around him. He hoped, however, they would enter shelter before the first drops fell. It would not do for the Princess's first introduction to the other students and staff to be soaked like a wet dog. Roland had gotten so used to the typical company the Princess carried, that the thought of assessing new individuals and potential threats was almost exciting.

His father had tried to instill in him a faith as strong as his loyalty, but failed frustratingly close to success. Roland was a firm believer in the teachings of the church, but he was far from what one would called a zealot. Goddess or not, he was devout to the Princess first and foremost. That said, the Archbishop was a striking presence that incited a polite, head bow from him in reverence. His authority could match a king so it was no surprise he would have such a direct influence on the future of the land. Roland did his best to stand tall and straight, maintaining a strict bearing as he stood by the Princess's side.

He listened attentively to every word the Archbishop spoke, even if the Princess didn't. It was important he get a grasp of his new surroundings and acclimate to their new lifestyle. Roland had gone through the trouble of parsing through records of the monastery and its academy. There was no guarantee that House Grimdall's enemies wouldn't try anything while the Princess was here. He would not be caught complacent when the worst came to fruition. The announcement of the leader of the rival house drew little reaction from him. Far as he was concerned, Francette was already an adversary for being from a different nation.

Roland was quick to applaud and offer a small smirk to the princess at being assigned leader of their house "Congratulations, your highness." Being in public, he chose to avoid speaking her name in a more friendly manner. One more gift upon the mountains life had already bestowed her. Roland would ensure no one would dethrone her from the position and ensure that all opposition would be crushed. Success as house leader would bring further prestige to the Princess and such it was his mission to make it happen. The absence of their professor did not bring hope that it would be an easy endeavor.

Rather than take in its beauty, Roland observed which windows had a vantage point into the garden. It was bound to be a popular resting and gathering spot, so he would need to analyze every corner for exploitations. Gardening? He would have far more pressing matters like training and protecting the princess. Roland was not sure that the garden would even benefit from the Princess's guardianship. Judging by her whispers to Parthenia, it was not something he would need to consider further.

"I am sure you would like to know, Lord Elias." Roland stated coldly before turning his attention to the other two commoners. He did not know these two and it irritated him that they had addressed the princess so casually without a proper introduction. "Besides, it sounds to me that the Archbishop is more to the liking of you two with such open statements of admiration." Roland spoke more casually this time. It was not often he found himself in the company of commoners being by the Princess's side, thus he did not wish to burn a bridge before it was built.
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Theodoric Branden Marlon


At last. Irinduil. Between his father and Gwendolyn's tales of the place, Doric had been waiting for years to finally set foot within its walls. This was where the path to his future was decided. With all the expectations placed upon him already, Theodoric knew that nothing short of excelling would be tolerated by those who would judge him and his worthiness as Marlon's heir in the future.

The ride from Mordlind had been fine. He'd not seen Parthenia in some months, and it was always good to catch up. Though they'd been told there would have been three within the carriage, and yet the third had never showed up. The caravan had waited for some time before eventually giving up and moving on, so as to not let the remaining passengers be late. Given that it seemed both houses had an equal number of students, perhaps there had just been alternative arrangements made?

Speaking of catching up, it had been good to see Sherry and Roland again as well. There hadn't been an opportunity to actually speak yet until now, but it seemed other people were monopolizing the conversation. Sherry being named house leader was...not unexpected. In a way, Doric was thankful for it. There was enough for him to deal with already without the added pressure of being the face of the house. The caveat was that, well, Sherry was herself. Capable enough in a formal setting, but casually? They were friends, but from an objective standpoint, Sherry's temper and rashness were a recipe for disaster when it came to leadership. He'd not seen her in half a year, but Doric doubted much had changed.

Thus, when an absolutely massive man that was somehow a student decided to begin to rib Sherry, with others following shortly after, Doric simply chuckled under his breath. Hopefully, something would even her temper out eventually.

"A brave man, to provoke the ire of Galbia's hellion. No offense, Roland." Doric clapped briefly, genuine in his compliment of Andrion. "Just watch out, though. She'll be furious at you for about a week before something else sets her off, and then her grudge with you will be all but forgotten. Personal experience." He stretched a hand out for the absolute unit to shake, still chuckling.

"Theodoric, of House Marlon. But please, call me Doric. The same goes to the rest of you whom I'm unfamiliar with, of course."

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Parthenia Harland Ciran
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Irinduil. It had not always been a forgone conclusion, Parthenia knew. Her inheritance had not always been as secure as it had been in the last couple of years. There was a certain irony when she could relax more among her noble peers than her own family—although she had made the best of an interesting situation to make the most entertainment out of it. In comparison, the monastery would almost be a treat.

Parthenia had been somewhat put off by the caravan arrangement, considering how close her family’s territory was to Irinduil itself. The place was literally a hop, skip, and a jump away by family pegasi, tradition be damned. Unsurprisingly, she ended up traveling with her peer and friend Dory, but in the time that they had been kept waiting for a supposed third, she could flown to their destination and back. In the end, they had never appeared, but she had managed to fill the time catching up with Theodoric until they arrived at the mountain for the Archbishop Augustine’s welcoming ceremony.

Glad to stretch her legs after the unfortunate carriage ride, she made sure to greet every familiar face until she ran into a hitch. It was rare that Parthenia couldn’t pair a face with a name, yet a girl with long blue hair had caught her attention, and in a way that frustrated her. She had seen this girl, perhaps met her at some point, yet she couldn’t recall who she was.

She let her mind ponder that before she temporarily gave up once Augustine began to speak, resolving to investigate the temporarily unknown student and introduce herself later.

The head of the monastery’s speech had been roughly what she had expected. When addressing a crowd whose body largely consisted of nobility, there were only a few, rather formulaic ways one could conduct the proceedings. Parthenia had found herself ending up standing next to another familiar face, Sherry. The variety of emotions that displayed on her face provoked the urge to tease the princess, but as tempted as she was, Parthenia decided to save it for later and offered the redhead her congratulations.

Unlike Sherry, she enjoyed what the garden had to offer. It would be pleasant for tea, among many things. “Now, now, Sherry. The garden is only unserviceable if you’re particularly uncreative,” she chided. “There are so many things you can do with flowers. Have you seen how wonderfully some people sneeze?”

It wasn’t the princess of Galbia’s comments on flowers that seemed to grab the attention of the students around her, though, but the way Sherry had looked at the Archbishop. “He is good looking,” Parthenia admitted, partially in her defense, but spring boarded right off it to tease her further. “But if you’re going to undress him with your eyes, avoid making it obvious.”

She gave Roland a pat on the shoulder. “Looks like you have some more work to do.”

Seeing as she wasn’t familiar with the giant of a boy that had first teased Sherry together with the small blue-haired girl that she had puzzled over, Parthenia made an introduction after Theodoric. “Parthenia, of House Ciran. A pleasure… and despite what he says, I call him Dory.”

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Alphonse Croix
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With the Monastery's gates finally in sight, Alphonse snapped the book shut and tucked it under his coat as he stifled a yawn. Forced to crane his neck to look at the tallest points of the walled Academy, he couldn't hold back a wistful whistle. Truly the sight would have been best appreciated from among the company of clouds. The fanciful thought distracted him for a moment before he collected himself and focused on the man awaiting their arrival.

Even the most prestigious Academy seemed to follow fairly standard procedure when it came to receiving students. Standing among his peers, there were a few that Alphonse could place, but none he knew personally. Could he really even count Elias if it had been years since he'd last seen the heir? Even if not, he supposed greetings were due in short order; irregardless of which houses they wound up in.

By the time the new arrivals had been split among the houses though, Alphonse wasn't sure if Yhirel wasn't tugging on the strings of fate himself. Heirs from practically every major House on the continent all in attendance at the same time? The dynamics alone would have made his head spin a bit, but thankfully all of that was a fair bit above his pay grade! Nonetheless it was certainly a boon to networking when he was looking at.. what, five heirs among his peers?

Taking a deep breath of fresh air as he followed the rest of the Foxes into the garden, Alphonse undid the top button of his coat and tugged on the collar a bit. Allowing enough of an opening for Ruga to finally scamper out, and the diminutive wyvern did just that as it was enticed by the sweet scent. Perched upon his shoulder with its tail around his neck for balance, the wyvern took in its new surroundings with a twitchy energy.

Glancing aside as the tour slowed a bit with the banter between some of the other students, Alphonse took the chance to approach one of the flower beds. Taking a knee and holding his hand out over the flowers, he gave his pet something of a perch to hang off of as its thin tongue flicked out to draw the nectar. "Fan of flowers?" He asked the other student that had paused to study them before he extended his free hand for a shake. While their names might have been announced while sorting them into the two houses, it was a rather impersonal way to learn each of their names. "Alphonse, but Al is fine too."
Hidden 1 yr ago 12 mos ago Post by Yam I Am
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Elevinthia always made a specific point to ride her own horse to and from everywhere she was required to be. She nary employed carriage or ferry - only when required by savoir-faire. She spared herself any servants or ladies-in-waiting. Those, to her, were the affairs of others, who could not in turn showcase even the slightest willingness to perform the most basic of tasks. That was a clear discomfort; One that Elevinthia had no interest in displaying, and one less weakness to parade about like it were something to take pride in. No - Lady Elevinthia performed most all of her own duties no matter how trivial, and made sure to let this be known: She was not one to be treated like a whelping schoolgirl, nor the likes apropos delicate princesses of faraway courts.

She took specific time to note all of her perspective classmates, eyeing them all up, one by one. She had to levy her eyes downwards to get a full view of most all of them: To be expected. Elevinthia couldn't hide her satisfied smirk. There was little hiding the fact that she took great pleasure in her immense height, and always found it so delightfully quaint when no others could quite measure up to her stature. At the end of her visual tour, Lady Pernachis cupped he hands together as she concluded and left, if not satisfied, then at least placated at what she had seen.

Only the largest of the bunch - a hulking mass of a man - matched her in height. Elevinthia frowned, noting the sheer magnitude of his bearing...and how she did not quite match. Humph. Secretly, she doubted his status as a student, believing that he was rather a retainer of some ilk, but soon dismissed the thought in her mind and simply made notice of the fellow before she had moved on.

Another had caught her eye, for lack of good grace in speaking, she thought with a light chuckle. The white-haired gentleman had his eye missing. Elevinthia hoped dearly it was for disease or accident - not for lack of skill. There was some mixture of what to think on this fellow, for part of her had felt some sympathy for the man, but only in the abstract: Elevinthia did not particularly care for whatever the station or feeling that he was feeling - here and now - but only in the story of how he came to be of monovisual constitution. She knew better than to ask directly.

There were more familiar faces to come, adjoined on their sides and in backgrounds. Another caught her curiosity: A raven-haired man, where he made general pleasantries to those in his company in light tones. Her eye slanted, narrowing to suspicion. To her, he had seemed oddly familiar, as if she had seen him before in passing, long, long ago. Yet she could make no recall of wherever this occasion was, and was left only with the hazy inkling. She would find out later, she noted, and moved her gaze onward throughout the little band.

She felt a compulsion to act on her instinct, wanting to know just where this hazy instinct came from. Elevinthia made ordained approach unto him, introducing herself with all the details in line: Proper, with a slight grin so just as to be warm but not assertive - with her posture so perfectly straight as to let it be known that she still just inched above him.


"Quite the lot, don't you think?" she introduced, flashing him a perfectly-practiced smile. Elevinthia offered him her hand.

"Elevinthia, of Pernachis. Have we been acquainted, perchance?"
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Despite his mother's best efforts, nothing could have prepared Leonid for his first day at the Officers Academy. The moment he finally beheld the Irinduil Monastery up close, neck craning as his gaze traced its highest towers all the way to heavens, he was hit with the sheer impossibility of his mission. Sure, he'd managed to fool commoners and lesser nobles with his noble act well enough, and no doubt convinced a spy or two without even knowing it, but to pretend on holy ground, under the watchful eye of Yhirel - of God?

Afraid the weight of his fear might send him tumbling down the mountain path he'd just emerged from, Leon tried to remind himself that he did not believe in God, and that if Yhirel did not exist, he could not bust his cover.

The other nobles around him could, though, and that thought was only marginally less terrifying.

Come the introductory speech, Leon was still reeling. He'd picked a spot near the back, where he could see but not be seen, especially by the man giving the speech. Archbishop Augustine was disturbing. Not the way a starving rat eating another, equally starving rat was, but in an inhuman, otherworldly way. The man's face was too perfect, movement too fluid. At any point, if he were to just stop moving, he could have made for a fine marble statue.

Leon shifted his weight, gaze wandering the Monastery's walls in search for best places to scale it. You know, if need be.

By the time the speech was finally over, Leon had found twelve potential climbing spots, abandoned three of them, and almost tested out two. He'd also been reminded of his inability to remember names; a lack that had hardly been a bother on the streets, but turned out quite a handicap in his new home. He remembered the names of the Archbishop and the Princess at least, the latter who he'd only realized was present when her name was called. Was that really what she looked like? She wasn't anything like he'd imagined! Why didn't she look like she was made out of marble too? And who let her be that tall? And-- why was she his house leader of all things!?

The campus tour was a welcome break, up until Leonid realized who their guide was. Cursing their absent professor - whose name he had either not caught or been told - he settled to once again walking towards the back and keeping his gaze away from the Archbishop. It was easy enough a task; he was genuinely invested in trying to remember each and every area pointed out to him.

Leon was busily wondering if any of the plants in the garden were poisonous (doubtful) - and whether they could be made so with the right mixture of ingredients (possible), when the loud voice of one of his housemate's created a ripple among the Scarlet Foxes. One by one, they each piped up, first to - and Leon couldn't believe his ears - mess with the Princess of Galbia, and then to introduce themselves.

Did-- did nobles just do that? Mess with actual royalty? ... Huh. Maybe he could actually blend in better than he thought. Besides, some of the others were decidedly not nobility either, and as long as he stuck close enough to them for comparisons to be made, he'd be fine. Probably.

... Had that one girl been about to eat a flower, or was it just him?

Leon hadn't yet shaken the thought, when a man called Alphonse approached the flowerbed to let his pet - a wyvern? Albeit a tiny one - have a go at the nectar. Hm. The Sylmare heir's gaze travelled between the lizard and the blue-haired girl, and suddenly he felt the urge to figure out whether he'd misjudged the look in her eyes, or she really was thinking about gobbling a flower.

"Little fella's got good taste," Leon grinned as he leaned closer to the two, nodding his head towards the flower the wyvern was currently occupied with. "That right there's called the Vermilion Delight. Surprised they got it in abundance here, heard it's a real delicacy in some parts of the world. Supposedly puts honey to shame, and turns water into a treat with just a drop."

If anyone actually in the know heard him, they'd know it was all horseshit, of course. So, just in case, Leon raised his shoulders into a shrug and added a pre-emptive: "Or so I've been told."
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As if on cue, most people around her started to jump on the chance at teasing the cherryhead princess. First was a guy who looked like he could be her brother, whose name was apparently Elias according to another man who seemed to know him. He was one of the few if not the only one to verbally congratulate Cherryhead for being House leader, and defending her. Maybe the guy had a crush on her or was trying to suck up; it was pretty common of Nobles, wasn't it?

”If something's pretty I'll call it pretty. I'm not shy about it.” She said, though noting the coldness Roland addressed Elias with, she decided to ask. ”Would it make you feel better if Elias-guy or Cherryhead called you pretty too?”

She didn't expect any sort of response from him. Her focus, instead, fell on the guy that crouched near the flowers alongside her. He brought his wyvern closer to drink the nectar of the flowers she'd just been eying. Just how good did the flower's nectar taste? Was it safe for humans to eat? It should be; there was no way an elite Academy like this would have dangerous flowers that could kill so many important people in one place.

So they had to be edible!

The man introduced himself as "Alphonse". He had silver hair and a red eye that practically glowed along his eyelashes. The next thing that caught her attention was the eyepatch, which had her wondering the story behind it. Maybe he lost it in an epic battle for his life, or maybe he poked his eye out doing something stupid. Regardless, it was a story she'd like to hear at some point.

Lapis gave him a little nod in acknowledgement. ”Alphonse... Alphonse. Al. I can't guarantee I'll remember, but it's good to meet you. I'm Lapis. You can call me whatever you want.” She picked one of the flowers and held the stem between her fingertips. ”Yeah, you could say I'm a fan.”

When one was hungry as hell, flowers were a treat. Sure it didn't have any nutrients, but it was better than nothing!

Her ears perked up to the sound of a new voice. This one came from one of the other Suit Pigs in the group. He leaned in closer and started talking about the very flower that Lapis held in her hand. A delectable delicacy, sweeter than honey, and no doubt delicious. Lapis's willpower was one of the two things keeping her from drooling or stuffing the flower into her mouth to taste the wonders of this delicacy.

The other was that Lapis had dealt with enough Nobles' bullshit to believe anything they tell her. She'd been fooled into eating things that'd made her sick for a week if not two. She'd trusted them before and was punished for it in various different ways. Sure there was a chance this man was telling her the truth, but... the fact the other Suit Pigs weren't jumping at the chance to eat this "delicacy" made her completely doubt this man's explanation.

”Whoaaa, if that's true, then the nectar must be what makes it so good. And it should be safe to eat as it is, right?” She started, "Since you were nice enough to explain, why don't you get first dibs? With a description like that, Nobles must be itching to taste the stuff when they can. And it'd be rude of me to not give first dibs to the nice gentleman who clued me in."

Lapis held out the flower for Leonid to take and eat, her smile peeking out from the top of her scruffy brown scarf. If it wasn't bullshit, then there shouldn't be a problem with him eating it, right?
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Sherry flinched internally when the blond-haired broad opened up his big mouth to splutter absolute nonsense. Fire gathered within the confines of her chest as she swiveled her gaze in Andrion’s direction. Before she could give him a proper tongue-lashing, the others wasted no time in tossing their kindlings into the flames. Their words were enough to make her flush in embarrassment, which quickly turned into fury. Even then, that fury didn’t stick around for long as she realized that the Archbishop himself might as well have been listening to everything. Anger melted into frustration and fear as ice crept through her veins. Nervously, she sent another look in the Archbishop’s direction, though the pale-haired man had quickly meandered away from the gates and motioned for them to follow.

”Come now, children. We have to make it through the tour if we wish to beat the storm,” he called over his shoulder. ”We are to visit the mess hall next. That is where all of you will…”

Sherry didn’t listen to the rest of what he said as the Archbishop began to guide them away from the vicinity of the garden. Heat surged within her as she whirled around to face the Ravaleth boy. ”Think you’re so funny, huh?!” She was very much intent on continuing her tirade, though she quickly realized that she was in no way enunciating her thoughts like a princess of her stature should. Faltering for a moment, she cleared her throat. ”I would like to remind you of who you are speaking to. My claim over your heads is not restrained to… just…”

Hu-uh? She blinked when she noticed a pale-haired minor lordling kneel before some flowers and hold something close to their colorful petals. Is that… no, it can’t be…

Her anger once again faded away and she was immediately overcome with childish excitement. Sherry dashed over to Alphonse’s side, her eyes wide and shimmering with wonder. No way! It is!

”Is that a wyvern?!” Sherry squealed with glee. It was so tiny– definitely not one of the bloodwyverns she was so accustomed to back in Grimdall– but its vibrant orange hue still distinguished it as one with Galbian blood. Was it a hellbender? Lindwurm? No, it was far too small to be one of those. Much to her disappointment, it was too young to tell its lineage. But why was it so damn cute?!

It just hit her; she was being indecent. Sherry flinched again, yet she wasted no time in bringing herself back up into a stiff-backed position as she hovered over Alphonse and peered down her nose at him. ”Croix?” she snorted. ”I thought you hailed from House Kirlou.”

Abyss take her, why did the little lord have a pure-blooded wyvern as a pocket-pet? Sherry didn’t even want to know. Was she going to complain about it? Eh, probably not for the time being.


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Alphonse Croix
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"Good enough," Alphonse supposed with a slight shrug and smile before he turned his attention towards the flowers. Unfortunately his studies hadn't covered botany, so he couldn't pick out their genus, but Ruga certainly seemed to enjoy the treat enough. Turning his arm around slowly to allow the wyvern to scamper round it after he had drank his fill, Alphonse glanced over his shoulder as the shadow of another student made his presence known.

Now while he might not have been that familiar with the flowers, Alphonse did try to keep an ear out on the grape vine and rumor mills. Raising his eyebrow just a smidge at the Sylmare heir's enthusiasm, he glanced between the two before he had to pinch Ruga's frill to keep him from taking the offered flower for himself! It wouldn't do to give the heir such an easy out after such a smooth turnabout from Lapis after all. "Quite curious myself. Do you just eat it whole, petals and all?"

Chuckling a bit at the little stand off, Alphonse had stood and was in the middle of dusting off his coat when the sudden presence of their House Leader demanded his attention. A few blinks of surprise denied her any sort of immediate response, and offered her the time to collect herself. Tilting his head a smidge at the harsher tone that followed, he supposed it wouldn't do to open herself up to even more ribbing from their peers. Then again, the sharp contrast itself left plenty of gaps to exploit in its own way, so how successful was she really?

"Mmm, most of their current generation seems to prefer hunting rather than raising," he replied after a polite enough bow to keep her attendant from crucifying him for exposing a moment of vulnerability for his charge. Tapping Ruga's head a few times as a message to behave, he offered his upturned palm as a perch for the wyvern and held him out for the princess to hold if she wished.

"He is. Just shy of two month's old, and we think he might be a variant of the Feylymn. Hard to say when he's still this young though. Ruga's certainly smart and mischievous enough to match."
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Roland pinched his forehead just above his nose and mentally sighed as Parthenia spoke, watching the situation unfold "I do not have to worry about unemployment, it seems." The delivery was dry but it was Roland's attempt at humor. Parthenia was undoubtedly going to be an attributing factor for the increased workload. Brief visits between her and Sherry were manageable but this was practically living together. It was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

Before he could see the small wyvern crawl out of Alphonse's coat, he was approached by an unfamiliar noble. Odd. He maintained a straight posture as she introduced herself that confirmed his initial assumption. The daughters of the nobility must have been fed well so have grown so tall. His expression softened slightly but didn't match the smile she put on display. Pernachis. He didn't recall ever meeting one in person but he knew to step carefully. Amethyst eyes flashed to her extended hand, processing the proper response, before he quickly gave Elevinthia his hand to complete the greeting.

"Roland Vaughann, guard to her royal highness." He spoke cleanly, gestured with a tilt of his head over to the red-headed princess. "I'm afraid I do not recall meeting, my lady." However, there was something familiar about her that Roland couldn't quite put his finger on. Frankly, he was glad that there was one person that hadn't immediately jumped to harass the princess.

Roland had been keeping his eyes on the princess the entire time. He was grateful for the Arch-bishop's presence. It was too soon to be having an incident. The princess's scolding brought his attention just in time to spot the young wyvern.Goddess Above. Roland raised a hand to stop her but he quickly lowered it back down. It was already too late for him to intervene, though he doubt anyone would have been capable of stopping her in that moment. Luckily, her highness seemed to realize her mistake and return to a proper sense of decorum. This was going to be happening all year long...

He turned his attention back to Elventhia, whom he had been walking alongside on the way to the mess hall "Her highness has a...fondness...for wvyerns. Please excuse her passion." Roland wasn't sure what use damage-control was at this point, but he had to at least try.
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Parthenia Harland Ciran
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With how many of her fellow peers that had dogpiled the teasing onto Sherry, it hadn’t been a surprise that the sum of it met with a rather frosty reaction from the Galbian princess. For just a moment, Parthenia had almost felt bad for the –mostly—good natured ribbing that she herself had dished out onto her friend, before she mentally corrected herself. A proper princess would just let it all wash over her, so wasn’t this just good training for the fledgling royal? Parthenia herself had endured far worse from the lovable creatures that were her siblings. Nonetheless, she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes as the princess took her frustrations out on the only person here that she could—the scion of the Raveleths. Yet just as quickly, that anger faded away as her attention was taken by a young wyvern, of all things.

Personally, Parthenia thought the pegasus was the more splendid of the two popular winged creatures.

She had to bite back the quip that had risen to her mind at Sherry’s lack of filter. Poor Roland…

Ever in search of entertainment, her attention drifted to an overheard conversation. It was between the heir of Sylmare and that girl that she had failed to recognize. That still frustrated her; from the way she acted and spoke, she lacked proper education in etiquette, yet she swore she had met her before in polite company. What caught her attention this time, though, was the nonsense that Leonid Sylmare was talking. She liked the spunk of the other girl, though.

As a fellow connoisseur of stirring shit, Parthenia felt obligated to meddle, and not to Leonid’s favor. “Slacking in your floral arrangement classes are you, Leonid? Well, I suppose boys don’t do floral arrangement,” she said in a musing tone as she butt in. Perhaps the Lychnis senno could be considered vermillion, but right you are, it is a delicacy for men around these parts. In fact, it’s even a custom in Ciran –and Irinduil— that a man of proper breeding should accept and partake of such a floral gift when offered.” She paused, her tone darkening to forestall any escape. “It would be a prodigious insult to decline.”

She smiled as she looked at Leonid expectantly. Most of it was true, too. Declining any flower from a fair maiden would be an insult anywhere, but she’d stressed the consumption definition of partake, and Parthenia would love to see his face once he ate the flower. It was a treat for wyverns and pegasi, but she heard from her family’s trainers that the flower was awfully bitter to humans and could sometimes cause indigestion…

Regardless of the outcome, she turned to the blue-haired girl and made an introduction. “Parthenia, of Ciran. Apologies for my rudeness, but have we been acquainted? I recall we may have met previously, but I can’t remember a time or place.”
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Apparently it was just as easy to rile up the princess as it had always been. Nice to see some things seemed to never change. Roland didn't appear to have changed much either. Wouldn't let any slight come to the princess and couldn't take a joke. "I don't care to know one way or the other, but for your sake it might be valuable to know," Elias commented blandly, "Might be an easier let down in the future."

He ceased ribbing the guard when some of the others began to chime in; eyebrows rising in amusement at the blue haired girls nicknames. He didn't recognize her which led him to believe she was a commoner, but she didn't appear to have any trouble shooting back at the Sylmare heir. This would be a fun bunch it seemed. Or at least some of them would be. Not that he planned on letting many of them sit around and be dour. Sure they were here to learn, but why should that mean that they couldn't have a bit of fun?

There was a vague ping of recognition of the white haired lordling that was crouched next to her, but didn't have time to rack his mind for names before the esteemed princess wheeled on him. A half smile crept across his face, "I rather think I am." He wouldn't bring up the fact that the giant of a man had been the one to start the influx of teasing.

The fact she tried to keep some decorum was a surprise, but he was more, or maybe less, surprised when the tirade stopped. Less surprised when the object of her interest became obvious. A tiny wyvern perched on the hand of the lordling. Now he recalled who the other boy was, he hadn't seen him in years but the Croix house was familiar to him. Reintroductions would be in order he supposed, but not while the whole of the Foxes had decided to clump together around Leonid.

He hadn't caught most of the conversation but judging by the flower being held out, and the glint in Parthenia's eye it couldn't be completely good.
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Well, Andrion had really just wanted to get a rise out of the little princess, but to imagine that the whole thing served as a house-building activity instead? Leave it to the blue-bloods to start snapping at any sign of weakness!

"What can I say?" the massive man replied, turning to the ice-cold motherfucker. As he did, he pulled down the collar of his already-bursting shirt somewhat, revealing the symbol of Yhirel that hung from his neck. "As an adherent, I've only the most profound respect for a fellow so stainless as the Archbishop. And as a person, well, we're outside, so why'd we use inside voices?"

He clasped Doric's hand with his own after, presenting a firm, but not domineering grip.

"Andrion Godson, my good man. Thanks for the warning, but I don't figure I'd even need to keep my head down for a week." A thumb crudely jabbed towards where Sherry was presently, fawning over a little winged lizard. "So long as I keep one of those in my breastpocket, I'm sure all'd be forgiven."

"Wouldn't be so eager to pluck those flowers too, little lady!" He laughed, walking past the garden to keep up with the Archbishop. "They grow pretty, but smell like shit after cutting. I'm sure you wouldn't mind, but your roommate sure would."
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Doric met Andrion's grip with an equally firm one, taking care to match him exactly. No firmer and no gentler. Godson, eh? So the massive blonde was a ward of the church. How curious. He was certainly more...outspoken than Doric had expected for someone raised by the clergy. Not that he minded. Andrion didn't seem like a bad sort, but first impressions weren't everything.

"Perhaps," He chortled in response to Andrion's comment about Sherry. "She's been like that for as long as I've known her, so you may just get away with it. I might start having to do so, myself." With that said, Doric let Andrion walk further ahead to deal with the conversation about...eating flowers? Confusing enough without context that he certainly wasn't dealing with it. Especially if Parth decided to butt in already. Doric wasn't putting himself in that line of fire.

Instead, he shifted his attention to where Roland was covering for Sherry to a noble girl he didn't quite recognize. She certainly wasn't from one of Mordlind's great houses, and considering Roland didn't seem to be familiar with her either, that really only left Cretus. The third blond certainly wasn't a commoner, that was for sure. And then she gave her name out. Pernachis. Not a family he was familiar with, so it stood to reason she was of a lower house.

Roland and Eleventhia were close enough that they'd have to have heard his own comment on Sherry's fondness for wyverns, so Doric simply fell back slightly to walk alongside them.

"A pleasure to meet you, Elevinthia. And Roland, accept my apologies for not being able to catch up sooner. It's been almost a year, after all. How have you been? Taking some time for yourself, at least? I can only imagine how stressful it must be dealing with Sherry on a constant basis."

@ERode @Ithradine @Yam I Am
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𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖉 𝕾𝖞𝖑𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖊
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Leon wasn't sure what sort of reaction he'd expected from the girl. Perhaps a passing, hungry look, or a glint in the corner of her eye at the thought of such a delicacy existing within reach. Leon had known hunger; he knew the spark the mere mention of food could ignite, and this girl looked, frankly, famished. Was she?

... The jury was still out on that one, but she certainly had dealt with nobles before. Leon was taken aback by her answer, smooth yet sharp, and it took him a few seconds too many to conceal it.

"First dibs?" he laughed, first genuinely nervous, then somewhat-less-genuinely amused. The way he'd been taught. "Come now, I'm not-- suggesting we eat it raw," he managed to wrinkle his nose as if the thought alone was preposterous, and gave the girl a look that bordered on pity - the kind a noble ought to give someone like her.

Someone like us.

"I was merely... making an observation, in case you'd never seen one before, and weren't in the know. Nothing mor-" He'd just found his rhythm and tone when Alphonse cut in with a dose of convenient curiosity, and made Leon scramble for a proper face to pull again. What was he even supposed to say to that, except-- "For Yhirel's sake, no one's eating it, petals or no! I wasn't--"

He was cut off again, though this time the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Yhirel bless, he could have kissed whoever it was that strode over to them - except it was the Galbian princess.

Startled by the sudden proximity of someone important enough for him to remember, Leon stepped away like she stank. His gaze trailed to what she was cooing at, and quickly realized it was the baby wyvern. His brow quirked. Really? Yeah, sure, the baby lizard was cute and all, but to go this crazy over it? Wasn't she-- wasn't she concerned about how she came across? Then again, royalty probably didn't need to be. All they had to do was be born, and the world would cater to them regardless.

Speaking of people used to being catered to - Leon raised his gaze from Sherry's antics only to startle out of his wits. A yet another soul dead-set on making him suffer had joined the fray. Leonid didn't recognize her, but she was the quintessential noble; prim, proper - insufferable. Oh, and definitely dangerous. Leon could see the glint in her eye, like a feline toying with a prey before the kill. All of a sudden, their silly little flower debate felt like a matter of life and death.

Leon decided then and there that if he didn't want someone finding out his ruse, it was definitely her.

"Well now, wasn't aware the fine folks of house Ciran had such bleeding hearts! Wish I could say the same about myself, truly, but regretfully I care more about my health than a potential insult towards a lowborn. I mean, have you any idea the amount of diseases they may carry?" Leon shook his head to accentuate his point, even as his own skin prickled from the insults. He didn't even dare look towards the blue-haired girl. She'd really gotten the short end of the stick here, huh. "The girl will live. I'm sure she's been through worse than a refused gift."

Like, you know, his whole spiel just now.

Stubbornly, and hopefully more casually than it felt, Leon held eye contact with the Ciran girl for as long as she did - only to practically heave a sigh of relief when she looked away. That was definitely his cue. "Well, I enjoyed all this floral discourse immensely, but we are holding up the tour. So if you'll excuse me--" With a quick bow, Leon whirled around on his heels, quitting their impromptu floral club before it attracted any more members.

Please, Yhirel, let the other half of the house be normal.
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Lapis wasn't sure what she expected, truthfully. The only Nobles she'd seen keep their promises was when it was of very mild inconvenience to them. Like giving her a coin or a plate of food. But with the person she offered the flower to... she didn't expect him to eat it, but it would have been the highlight of her day if he did.

And it seemed she wasn't the only one who wanted to see him eat the flower. The most notable one was a the silver haired girl. She had not only given some information regarding a tradition Lapis never cared to remember, but she'd basically put the Noble on the spot to accept the flower or be seen as awful and rude. Nobles really cared about their reputations and traditions, didn't they? Surely this would make him crack, right?

But no, the Noble chickened out, unfortunately. On top of that, he threw an insult her way to save face. Lapis seemed undisturbed by the insult; in fact, it seemed to have bothered her as much as if he'd called her by her name. Was that really all he had?

”With all that Noble money, you could buy some originality for that insult.” She said, tossing the flower she had been holding over her shoulder. She looked at him. ”But that money would be better spent getting a cleric to take your head out of your ass."

There was no need for the conversation to continue from there. The Archbishop was calling for them to continue on with the tour and she didn't want to be blamed for them taking all day. She moved along to follow him, remembering what two other people had said. It'd be rude to not acknowledge them, and she didn't want them thinking the Church sent a little shit to the Monastery.

”Thanks by the way.” She addressed Andrion, feeling a bit of strain in her neck from needing to look up so high. ”I might've grabbed a few and made tea if you hadn't said anything.”

That was a lie. She would have eaten the flower whole if Flower Boy hadn't tried to manipulate her into thinking she was about to eat something delicious. At least someone was looking out for the lowborn...

Then there was the silver-haired girl. The one who introduced herself so politely and... regal-y. Lapis figured years of Noble training and etiquette crap must be the reason. Parthenia seemed to recognize her from somewhere, and Lapis knew exactly where. She might not be good with names, but she remembered faces. And she remembered Parthenia's face quite clearly and from where she'd seen it. Fortunately, the same couldn't be said for the Noble herself. Perhaps it was for the best it stayed that way.

”'m Lapis, of Wherever I Sleep That Night.” She introduced before answering. ”Nope. Maybe you're remembering someone else?”

Lapis had her reasons for lying; one of which being she didn't want to recall the memories. The other one being that Lapis didn't want to associate with Nobility more than she needed to. Nobility has let her down repeatedly in the past. She managed to escape being stuck with two in the caravan on the way here, but now she was stuck with a whole House filled mostly of them. This was supposed to be her team. People she needed to rely on. But how the hell could she do that when she couldn't trust a damn word that left their mouths?

Meh. She was doing Parthenia a favor.
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