Avatar of Bartimaeus

Status

Recent Statuses

22 hrs ago
Current It's been three years since we lost Polymorpheus, a dear friend. It's felt like a lot longer, that time. I still think about Poly every so often, and how I miss them so very much. I won't forget them.
8 likes
11 days ago
I like attention.
4 likes
5 mos ago
Tomorrow is post day. How unfortunate.
5 mos ago
I lost.
4 likes
5 mos ago
@LongSwordMain I can fix that, if you wish.
7 likes

Bio

uhhhh, hi there

I am here and I sorta exist so yes this is my ‘bio’ and it will probably be rather brief and suck and be sloppy, just like me.
So, without further ado..

stuff about me

Most people call me Barti or Bart as well as a few other things since it’s just easier or meaner than the actual thing - I invite you to do so as well.

I’m a 23-year-old (bday June 20th!) Texan who enjoys thunderstorms and rain far too much, and likes anime, running, metal music, and copious amounts of DRUGS candy, among many other cool things - like DnD and MTG.

I enjoy group rps as well as 1x1s. For groups I have what I think is a decent array of interests, most of it being profusely weeb-y. I like Fantasystuffs (Modern especially), supernatural themes, pretty much all Japanese stuff - including historically accurate settings - as well as general dark/grim themes, comedic slice of life trash, academy rps, unique plots, etc. etc. As for 1x1s I pretty much do romance, but I can do non-romantic stuff too if you give me something to work with xP
The only genre I find myself not entirely comfortable with is really sci-fi stuff, but, if the plot/idea catches me enough it can hold my interest. Oh, and my writing level is high casual to low advanced.

I’m a sarcastic, snarky, bipolar-depressed, degenerate garbage can, but generally people seem to like me (I don’t know why in the hot hell you would) - but if you would also like to be my friendo lemme know.
I don’t bite.
Usually owo xd rawr

welppp...I guess that’s okay for now
thanks for reading, you potatoes

Discord: ...

Most Recent Posts

Oops, Arena Snow. x3 Posted this at 5am, so my coherency was not it's finest :p

I see your point, @BrokenPromise. I should emphasize the non-social aspects for an Arena sheet. I'll remove the hiders too, or put the social stuff under that, and below the Arena stuff. :3 THanks for the feedback.
Hey guys and gals, wanted some opinions on this CS Template I just created.

Looking for thoughts on formatting, what I may be missing, or what I may have included that isn't necessary. I plan on using this sheet for Arena characters, but non-arena characters may work just fine with this as well.



If anybody is confused as to how I did something, feel free to look at the RAW. Thanks in advance!
Do you call my name - Ra

Insanity - BrokenRail

Automatic - Deadset Society

Moth and the Flame - Fall of Envy

Ashes - Days of Jupiter

Bullets - Panic Era

Heart to Stone - Stellar Revival <<<❤❤❤ :D

Ultraviolence - Memory of a Melody

Right Here and Now - Message from Sylvia

Neurotic - King City




"Those you cherish are your handholds to life,

Though this hold may loosen, throughout all strife~

But without a doubt, and to your avail,

They will be there, sure to not fail~

And if they pass, be sure to remain,

reverent their memory; your belay~

Your goal is the anchor, this is so true,

the goal is finding what's inside you~"


Aram wiped a fake tear from his eye as the poem came to an end. "Truly alluring, really.." he said, feigning a look of thoughtfulness.
---
They'd spent a good part of the morning doing their own separate things; Jirachi in bed, reading a book called "Understanding an Alchemist for Noobs", and Aram nearby on the couch, watching his aged Television shows. He'd occasionally catch her peeking over the book when a interesting part of his shows came on, and chuckle as she whipped back to reading her volume.
---
Now though, he shoved a spoonful of ice-cream in his mouth. He was wearing a new set of clothes, of Tan khakis and a matching suit-vest, but with a napkin tucked over his shirt.

Jirachi sat across from him, a real tear falling from her eye as she concluded her poem. He liked it? HE REALLY LIKED IT!? she screamed internally. Nobody has ever liked my poems before...apparently they're "forced to rhyme" ...not exactly sure what that means, but maybe it's because that one time I-
She interrupted her own roaming train of thought when she laid her hands down excitedly on the table.

"Alluring? Really? Nobody has called my poems that before...you really enjoyed it? she asked eagerly.

"Oh, yes. I really enjoy it.." Aram responded, seemingly memorized by the ice-cream. He wasn't listening.

"Awesome!" she shouted. "What was your favorite part??" she was gripping the edges of the table now, leaning forward out of her chair while looking intensely at him. It looked like she was trying to stare into his soul.

He looked up now. "Oh, well...uh.." his eyes shifted back and forth nervously, then landed upon his bowl of ice-cream. "Here, try this!" he said desperately, pushing the bowl towards her.

"Ice-cream? How long has it been since I've had that..." she mumbled as she took the spoon offered by Aram. She gently scooped some of it up, so as not to spill it on the robe that she had adorned after her morning shower.

She paused before eating it. "This isn't two-percent milk, is it? That makes me sick.." she said as she remembered the last time she'd drank two-percent. Milk...everywhere... she shuddered.

Aram had moved to the fridge to fetch more ice-cream for himself, and again wasn't paying much attention. "Oh, yeah.. no two-percent in this house." he said, his head thoroughly engrossed in the fridge's contents.

She ate the first scoop. "Ooohh, this is so gooood!" she exclaimed. "Where did you get this, Aram? I definitely haven't tasted ice-cream this good more than onc-" her face quickly shifted to a pale green.

He removed his head from the freezer to look back at her, "What were you saying? I couldn't hear- oh crap. Bathroom, Bathroom, Bathroom! he shouted.

Not again.. she thought as she ran to his bathroom.

Aram sighed, shaking his head.

Ring! ..Ring! ..Ring!

He trudged over to the household, picking it up. "Aram here."

"..."

"Missing? How?" he said, shocked. How did they lose it?! It's a damn Jar! he exasperated.

He turned from the dialer to check on Jirachi. Doggone...feel kinda bad about that... he thought while wincing at the sounds of barfing coming from the room.

He turned back to the dialer.

The jar was on the counter beside it.

"WHAT THE DEVIL!?!?" he screeched, dropping the phone.

"Aram? Something wrong in ther-" Jirachi called, but was interrupted by another wave of...milk.

Aram quickly recovered the device, also grabbing the jar and throwing it in a nearby cabinet, so as to hide it from the Satyr that would assumedly come out of the bathroom soon.

"Alchemist? Is there something wrong?"

"N-no! No, no...just...Jirachi drank some bad milk...she doesn't seem to pay attention very well. Sorry about that.."

"Right...anyways...If you come across the object in question, Alchemist...keep it."

"Come again? Did you say keep it?"

"No. Do NOT keep it. Bring it in."

""Okay, I'll bring it in. I actually have-" Aram's mouth stopped.

---

His body was suddenly extremely...drained of all energy. All power. He tried to speak. He could not. The air was heavy around him...it was...oppressive. He felt sick.

What the hell? I can't move my arms! Jirachi! He was frozen.

The other side of the line paused for a moment.

"Great, Aram. No activity so far is a little disappointing, but keep looking out."

Another pause. Aram couldn't help but stare at the phone in front of him. It's all he could do. Shift his eyes.

"Yes, Aram. The ward is completely necessary. We've already discussed this, she's not going anywhere."

Pause. Who the hell are they talking to? I haven't...said...a word! he tried to move as he spoke the words, but the effort was only met with a sharp pain.

"Good day, Aram."

They hung up.

His arm began to move, albeit with much resistance. It was shaking heavily as it turned under-handed to place the phone back on the dialer.

It didn't even feel like his arm. He could feel it. But it wasn't his. The phone clicked as it fell into place.

Do you feel that, Alchemist?

Who is that?!?! he tried turning around to see who it was, but to no avail. More pain struck his body.

That feeling is power. Of which you have none. Look at yourself at this very moment. You're helpless. In fact, I could kill you. Right now. Easily.

No! Not today! I'm not ready to die! Who are you?! Why are you doing this?! Let me loose, damnit!

Yes, yes! You are ready to die. As long as you are weak, you will be ready to die.

I wanted to wait a little longer before we became acquainted, but you forced my hand just now. If they had retaken my little gift...they would have locked it up real tight. I can't have that.

Gift? GIFT?! Look at you, you chicken! You can't even fight me mano a mano! his remark was met with a lash of pain to the head. He couldn't even recoil, or wince.

SILENCE, WELP! I am trying...to help you. You want to become stronger, don't you? the voice chuckled.

It sent shivers down Aram's spine. The echoing, dread-inducing sound made his hair stand on-end.

You...can make me stronger? Why? Why would you do that??

For my own entertainment, of course. Another laugh.

From now on...all you have to do...is follow your gut. Don't try to "rationalize" your problems. I'll make sure that you know what to do...one way or another. And if you don't comply. I'll kill you. And her.

Aram's eyes shifted to the left. He couldn't see far enough in his peripherals to tell where Jirachi was.

I will kill...EVERYONE. A long, cold laughter even more chilling than before permeated his mind after that.

You...really think you're something, don't you...I'm the weakest of anyone I know. And you think you can kill everyone? Ha! What a joke. Whatever kind of Demon you are, it doesn't matter. My death will mean nothing. You'll be exposed. And killed. he tried to move again. He put all his strength...all his will..into moving his right arm.

It moved. Ever-so-slightly.

Oh? He felt something cold touch his chest.

You moved. How...impressive. You definitely have potential. But...how many times will you resist before you're done?!

The cold feeling against his chest grew sharp. It slowly...slowly began scraping down his chest.

He could not make a sound. A single tear rolled down his cheek as the scraping tore through him.

H-how...what are you!? What is this power... the pain extended to his mind. He could hear it in his own thoughts.

How rude of me...I've yet to introduce myself. Aram could hear the blatant pride in the voice. The horrid voice. It sounded like the whole chalkboard jig. But in a cave. An echo-y cave.

I am the god who gave you your powers, Aram...

I am...THE GODDESS OF SPITE!


The following assault on his ears that could only be described as a cackle was cut short.

Play nice now, Alchemist. I will be checking in on you occasionally, so don't try any tricks. Bye...for now.

He could move again. He collapsed.

"Aram did you smell that? Smelt like-" she entered the room looking pale, after what felt like she was hacking up her breakfast, lunch, and dinner from the past week. When she saw Aram collapsed on the floor.

"Aram! Oh my god, are you alright?!" she screamed as she ran to him. She fell on the ground beside him, kneeling awkwardly due to her legs. "What happened? Are you okay? You smell like that damn pot! Is there something here that did this to you?" she bombarded him with questions. He looks like he saw a ghost...and he's shaking...what the heck happened to him..

The Alchemist reached for her hand. "I-I'm alright...I just...got light-headed." he said in heavy breaths. "That smell...just my cologne, don't...worry..." he looked around the room, as if he didn't know where he was.

His vision grew dark for a moment. He looked into her eyes, pleading without words. Even though he knew she couldn't help him. Not against a god. Who could? Why...why me...

"Bed..." he managed to let out.

The girl tried her hardest to pull Aram into the living room, with much difficulty due to the low amount of traction she got on hardwood floors. But she managed.

He was unconscious before he had a pillow.




Are you serious... he thought. Aram pushed open the glass door, stepping into the sunlight of the early morning. He scanned the streets, looking for something...anything that told him he was dreaming. He had expected a simple answer. Not a whole fiasco over a single jar he'd found on his doorstep.

He'd been too tired to fetch all his attire for the day, such early in the morning, so he'd come in simple slacks and a suit-vest. It was 7:14 AM and he was across town. Not at home. Not sleeping in his bed.

To make matters worse, the Administration had given him a ward. A WARD. As if he needed protection!

He really did try to dissuade the whole ward idea, but they weren't having it. It was settled. She was going to be his ward, and he was going to let her sleep in his quarters.

Goddang adults...I shoulda just kept this to my lonesome..

Her name is Jirachi Soske, and she was strolling beside him now, her suitcase in his hands.

"This is my first job as a ward, so please, excuse me if I make it awkward.." she said thoughtfully.

She was nervous, but excited. Maybe I can make friends with this strange Alchemist! They told me a lot about him before assigning me. Fighting Demons? Combat tournaments? Sounds like a party-lovin' guy... she thought.

"Wait a minute." he said, stopping and turning to face her. "If this is your first mission as a ward, why should they assign you to something so important? This "Demon" is gonna be packin' some serious heat, if how they see it's how it is."

Does the Administration underestimate me? I can handle myself...right..?

Jirachi smiled at that. "I'm a very good bodyguard." she said with a grin.

"...that's not an acceptable excuse!" he complained loudly. He continued walking.

"The Administration has their reasons...What? Is it that you underestimate me?" she accused.

"No, no! It's not that." he responded quickly. "I just don't think it's necessary..."

"It's very necessary. We don't know what this "Demon" is capable of, or what it wants. It's my job to find out these things...while keeping you alive, of course."

They were at his door now. He retrieved his key, inserting it into the lock and stepping aside to let her through as the door opened.

"I'm gonna need a copy of that." she said as she walked through the door, gesturing to the key.

Seriously...

---------------


"Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot!"

"Ah, horsefeathers!" he groaned.

"Haha, I win!" Jirachi cheered, taking her rightful control of the remote, fetching it from the table in front of the couch.

"You cheated..." he said, shamefaced.

"Did not!" she said cheerfully, changing the station to try and find something she liked.

Unsuccessfully.

"You uh...don't watch much TV, do ya?" she asked. There were only a few channels available on whatever network Aram had, most of which displayed really old shows.

"It's called appreciation for the classics, toots." he said proudly.

"Ohhh, I see. So that's why you talk like a weirdo, cause you appreciate the classics?" she asked, seemingly with genuine curiosity, but also a hint of teasing.

Aram blushed. "Hush up! It's not weird, that's just how I talk!" he said, embarrassed. He grabbed the brim of his fedora and pulled it down over his face.

Jirachi giggled, turning her attention back to the TV. She stopped clicking when a cooking documentary came on.

They watched that show for a little while until Jirachi broke the silence.

Why is this so booooooringgggg...Dear Godfather shoot me n- "Say, Aram...Can you cook?" she asked, turning her attention from the TV.

"What? Oh, yeah...sure. Why, are you hungry?" he responded.

Nope...was just wondering..

"Oh, okay...."

Several minutes passed before she turned back to him again.

"Can you make me something to eat?"

"YOU JUST SAID YOU WEREN'T HUNGRY!"

Jirachi shrunk back, "I know, I know...I just wanted to see how an Alchemist cooks. Headmaster never uses Alchemy for "mundane means unworthy of it".

She's spoken on such a personal level to the Headmaster of Alchemy?

"You talk to the Headmaster?" he asked.

"Of course I do. She's my mother, after-all."

Aram's jaw dropped. "S-s-she's had children?!" he said in shock.

"Well...she adopted me. But it feels more like the real thing than I've ever known."

Aram paused for a moment. She's never met her parents...or maybe they rough-handed her. Poor girl...Maybe I should sit down with my folks more often... he thought.

"You're an orphan, then..?"

"No. I used to be an orphan. I have a mother now, who cares about me. She'll make sure I'm alright, at the end of the day."

"How long was it until she found you?"

"Fifteen years. she said, deliberately slow.

"That's tough.." Aram said, nodding slowly to himself.

"Well just so you know, I cook just like everyone else. No Alchemy. It tastes all wet that way."

"All wet?"

"Weird."

She nodded.

They watched TV for several hours, trading small talk...

---------------


"It's probably best that we sleep." Jirachi said, looking through the blinds into the darkening light outside. "I can still sense that Jar's terrible contamination on you. You should rest." She closed the blinds.

"Swell idea. You can change into your sleep-dress first. Bathroom's right there. he said, gesturing to the door that led to the bathroom.

"Thank you, Alchemist."

"The handle's Aram." he replied, lying on the couch. She nodded.

They both finished, minutes later each lying in their designated sleeping spots.

----------


She's strong. Stronger than me...but I shouldn't be surprised. It seems like that's a theme. Wolf can't even control his powers sometimes. He's still stronger than me. William...his powers are bilge in a fight...yet, he's brave. He's got moxie. He has goals. What are my goals? I don't have any, do I? He shifted, turning towards the inside of the couch. I'm weak...

You're weak...

I'm weak...

The Satyr shifted. "Did you say something, Aram?"

"No."


A couple of hours after returning from his trip to the lab...

Aram stomped tiredly up the steps leading to his apartment. Today's been a long one... he thought.

He lived alone. Despite his talkative nature and overall social tendencies, he liked living alone. It gave him time to think. Time to do things he enjoyed, rather than get cats out of trees or almost die in an excluded, creepy, abandoned laboratory...

He reached his door, taking off his fedora and withdrawing a key from his breast pocket, before opening it and stepping inside.
He then removed his suit, placing it and his hat on the coat-rack near the door. These objects were closely followed by his satchel and his armor.

He continued to plop on the couch, lazily grabbing the remote and turning on the TV after removing his shoes. It came on, already showing his preferred channel. The only channel he watched, really.

The screen displayed a black and white scene; a man in a fedora and pinstripe suit holding a Thompson Submachine gun, which he had pointed at a detective and a woman.

"Don't do it, big Tony. This isn't what you want. The twelve'll be on you like wine on rice, Tony! Drop the gun."

"Quiet, detective! Nobody asked for your two-cents-worth!" the man on the left said, brandishing his gun.

"You can still leave here alive, Tony! Just let us walk.." the detective pleaded.

"I said dummy-up!"

Aram got up from the couch after having been watching for a minute, and moved to the kitchen. He'd seen the whole series at least a dozen times. He'd seen all the movies. Watching the same thing over and over again got boring after a while...

He went to fridge, taking out a couple of carrots before moving to the counter, and placing them on a chopping board as he grabbed a nearby knife. He began chopping while listening to the Television.

Can't wait for that remake they're puttin' together. But they better keep the originality. If they screw that up, I don't know what I'll watch. he thought.

That'd be swell, yeah. I could dig that. A classical remake. I've been needing a little boost...I don't feel myself- his thought was interrupted when he accidentally nicked his finger with the knife.

"Ah, hell!" he exclaimed, dropping the knife and instinctively sucking on his finger. He bent to pick up the knife with his other hand, "Ah, whatever. I was done anyway."

He dropped the knife in the sink. Excuse my French...he thought to himself as he fetched a bowl for the carrots.

A knock at the door.

Huh? he looked back towards the door as he reached into his cupboard, groping for a bowl. He ended up catching the edge of one, which was promptly pushed off the edge of the shelf, falling to the floor. It, obviously, shattered.

Aram face-palmed.

He stomped over to the door, opening it without looking through the peep-hole.

"What's up wiseguy? I'm tryna get some shut-eye in he-"

There was no one there.

He shifted his foot out the door, kicking something that had been lying on the other side of it. Aram looked down and saw a small, round, clay-looking jar.

Looking left and right for a sign of anyone, he stooped down to pick it up. It had a tag.
----------------------------
To: Aram
From: An admirer

To your future success.
-----------------------------------


Once again looking for a sign of anyone, Aram turned back inside, closing and locking the door.

Where did this come from? He thought. Secret admirer? Future success?

Examining the pot, Aram found it to be made of clay. It smelt, looked and felt like clay. He tried to open it, to no avail. The cork was stuck.

"Hmm..."

He drew a wooden plate from his satchel as he passed it.

Putting the plate on the kitchen counter, he placed one hand on it, and used the other to hold the small pot.

Black energy arced through his body, traveling to the foreign object. He aimed to transmute the cork off to get a look at what was inside. The energy moved to the jar, doing as it normally did, and forming with it.

Aram waited for a second. Then five. Then ten...as he stared at it.

"WHAT THE DEVIL?! he shouted, dropping it on the floor and falling backwards.

It hit the floor, but didn't break.

Aram slowly, and reluctantly, reached to pick it up and inspect it. No cracks.

He examined it further. He noticed that it had very dark, purple etchings in it that protruded slightly from the rest of the jar's surface. They sort of looked like tentacles.

What...how...it..it's not affected by my Alchemy? How's that even possible?

You're too weak.

No...No, there was no rebound...If it was my fault there would have been a rebound.

Too. Weak.

Aram shook his head. He stood up, taking the jar to a shelf across the room, and placing it where he could see it easily.

He went to his bed and laid down on it, fetching his phone and dialing a number from memory.

"Hello? Aram Secrue for Administrator of Alchemy."

After that call, he would lay there, staring at the wall. He left his carrots on the counter, and the bowl in pieces on the floor. After twenty minutes, he fell asleep.


Masami's brow furrowed as she found herself perplexed by Vernon's explanation. He was a bad guy...but helping William? Hmm...

Ohhh.. she thought as she raised up her hand to rub her chin in puzzlement, He must owe William! He must be some kind of servant to pay off his debt, right? That's the only likely explanation! she exclaimed to herself.

"I'll be sure to stay on his good side then! Wouldn't want to anger his menial, now would I?" she said over her shoulder as she turned towards the rest of the group, a giggle escaping from her lips.

She watched the scene unfold before her. From some new arrival who barely even had any clothes on- to Vera spewing profanities left and right. But her eyes widened as she saw the small demon-girl flapping her little wings and speaking to the rest of the group. I-is that-

Her thought was soon interrupted as she heard a squeal very close to her, jumping as she turned towards the source. And took a face-full of Meredith hug. "Mrrff-Hey!" Masami mumbled as she tried to escape the other girl's grasp.

Suddenly the fur on her ears began to stand on end as they perked up. She wrinkled her nose as a familiar distasteful smell reached it, before she let out a sneeze. She squirmed out of Meredith's hold, stumbling backwards. Why are there so many Demons here?!

But...they all seam really...nice? she thought, thoroughly confused at this point. She was always taught that the majority of demons were vicious, mindless beings, who only enjoyed hurting others. Maybe it was different here?

She would still remain alert. For now. She resented being called a mongrel, though. Maybe they weren't all nice here.

She noticed her own blush, turning her head downwards, remembering how Meredith had at exclaimed her cuteness while trapping her in a hug.
@Letter Bee

NCQuest

Equipment/Armaments not complete, still working on that.
Working on my character. Will post before long.


Aram winced as he saw the flames sprout from the stairwell right as Nasaraph dived out of it. "O-oops. Sorry, Nasaraph.." he said sheepishly as he registered his mistake, scratching his head.

But he needed to handle the immediate threat. And apparently a request for...fortifications? He smirked at that. "You came to the right guy, Bird bro."

He reached behind him, grabbing a plate out of his open satchel and throwing it on the ground in front of him. He then clapped his hands once more, and placed them against the rooftop as he focused on the area from where they had come. Soon, the concrete around the stairwell began to bend and grind to his will, filling the hole where the door had once been. It melded into a solid wall. "Try getting past that!" he shouted, dusting off his hands.
Please tell me they can't teleport... he frowned to himself.

"Oh, yeah. Fortifications." Aram said, remembering the rest of his task. "Uhh...I guess old-fashioned works?" he looked back over his shoulder, worrying that he himself wouldn't even have enough time to perform a task this big.

Nearby Samoth pressed his forefingers against his temples as he looked up, recovering somewhat from his headache. Light sensitivity was quickly developing. "Little help, Army boy? Could use some cover." Samoth half-trudged to a spot behind the kneeling student, and faced the rest of the roof. His developing headache was hindering his focus, as well as his composure, but he'd still be able to throw up a weak shield or two. But anymore shield-breaks and he'd be effectively exhausted.

Aram turned to focus on the transmutation circle once again under his hands, closing his eyes and thinking about what he wished to create. Rather, what to re-shape. Black energy sparked between his hands and the circle, initiating the process of transmutation. Nearby rooftop AC units would soon begin to decompose, shifting through the roof towards Aram. Some sections of the rooftop became thin as the mass was also transferred to Aram, one section actually opening up and making a hole in the roof.

He had been taught in his Alchemy classes that nothing could ever be destroyed. Or created. One thing came from another, even if you couldn't see it. At first he thought it had seemed a little far-fetched. But in time, it made sense. It was a somewhat difficult theory to explain however; how the mass traveled through other mass to reach its destination. But it was crucial to understand. Changing the structural integrity of a building could be very dangerous, and while he wasn't technically supposed to do that unless he had to, he thought this was a good enough situation, if any.

The concrete began to rise, sounding like slate against slate as it formed into the shape the Alchemist desired. It formed over an open pocket, slowly turning into a thick dome, with a couple square "windows" in the sides, and a small entrance on the side facing away from the Demons. He transmuted a bunker large enough to fit at least five people, along with several short walls outside of the bunker for extra cover.

He tucked the plate into the front of his pants, and stood, turning towards the Demons, with a single sweat-drop on his brow. "Hopefully that's fort-y enough for ya-" he breathed. "-sorry I didn't give it wings, though." he said to Nasaraph. He stooped to pick up the Bing Bong sword, holding it in what he thought was a menacing pose, a tuft of red hair covering his eye. He blew it away. "You can go rest with Nasaraph in the igloo over there if you want, Samoth. I'll do what I can to stall. They shouldn't bother you much in there."

The older student didn't look over, just waved his hand to dismiss the thought. His stare wasn't quite as cold as before...moreso pained. "I'll fight."

Now why did I expect that...
"HEY! Come get some! Cowards!" Aram yelled towards the middle of the rooftop.

Samoth winced.



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