Bawen blankly stared at the door to his room, a lone bag hung lazily over his shoulder. He'd some how managed to escape the dog chimera mid tirade as the Boorkat made his announcement.
Collecting his luggage was a welcomed distraction from the awkwardness of...whatever that mess was in the cafeteria. He was beginning to wonder if the room was somehow cursed to make his life more difficult.
Stowing the thought away for the moment (he'd have to devise some sort of test to run at a latter date), he gently knocks on the door. "...Hello? I pray that you are clothed because I'm coming in."
Upon opening the door, the visage of a large lupine monster would be revealed. Staring up from his seated position, reading over a letter, a wild smile came across his face, although Honehe's smiles tended to appear sinister due to the shape of his face. "Ah, you must be Bawen Coridell." The wolf began, raising from his seat. "My name is Honehe. I believe we are to be roommates at this institution. I humbly bid you welcome." Standing at full height over Bawen, he extended his hairy hand in greeting.
Bawen gives as firm a shake as he can manage (which isn't saying too much,but still). "Likewise....Though, and forgive my directness on this front but..." Bawen says, slowly looking up at the canind. "...is this room actually large enough to accomidate you comfortably?" "....also they've made the wolf lie down with the lamb, so to speak. I dont think that is an issue in all likely hood."
"Fret not." Honehe replied. "I may be of robust size, but I can manage in here just fine. I am not unfamiliar with tight spaces." "And I should think we are both intelligent enough creatures that our anecdotal rivalry should not matter. It isn't that you find me intimidating, I hope? People have been known to suggest that to me. I promise, I do not bite."
"Not esspecially no." Bawen states simply."I was raised in the unclaimed territory to the south, so I've seen far more esoteric examples of monster species...unless you perhaps find me intimidating?" He asks, half jokingly.
"I hope you'll forgive me for saying so," He began, chuckling slightly. "But not in the slightest.
"Alas, my fluff and horns have failed to fill the hearts of men with the darkest of eldritch terrors." Bawen says, closing the door and placing his bag on his bed.
"It is intriguing that you hail from the south. It so happens that I hail from the north. There are many examples of monsters there too, but they have intentionally gathered in comradeship. I don't suppose you've ever heard of the Akamina Free Commune?"
"To echo your statement before; I hope you'll forgive me, but not in the slightest." Bawen says dully.
"It is no bother. We are a small place for now. Many do not appreciate our message of unity, but we grow slowly." A glint appeared in his eye. "We are in truth a gathering of both monster and chimera under one banner. I know, you are probably wondering how such a place could even exist. We struggle with the inborn prejudices of our kind and others, but my father has a dream to bring together our peoples, and so we do so. In time, we hope everyone will forget the division between those with monstrous blood."
Bawen goes weirdly silent. "Ah...I see. Well..." He begins, now legitmately regretting not having asked for a roommate before."I am familiar with living with chimera and monsters. However that was a long time ago. And I cannot say the idea of doing so in exclusivity of humans holds much interest to me anymore."
"No?" Honehe cocked an eyebrow at this response. "Now why would that be?"
"After the war between Airelosia and The Empire ended, my father..." He pauses. "A human to be clear. Was kind enough to furnish myself and my mother with a very privileged lifestyle. With no small amount of controversy to be clear. Monsters and Chimera were previously hunted for sport in the region. So I am rather loyal to humans as a matter of principle. Him and his family especially."
"I can appreciate that, to an extent." Honehe stated, while not entirely pleased. "Then again, does it not seem a travesty that monster or chimera should be hunted for sport to begin with? Your father's kindness may be a mercy, but the problem was created by human hands."
"If such is the case, then are not you and myself accountable to the deaths caused by feral monsters?" Bawen asks simply, unpacking a set of thin sheets. "To be frank with you, our kind typically lack the resources and organizational skills to hold large communities, much less full blown countries. Human do and have, Airelosia not withstanding.There may be problems, but there is a fundamental element to their system that works. Far more so than anything we've yet to achieve. It is silly not to work to ingratiate ourselves with them."
"My my, you almost sound like you're one of them." Honehe remarked sarcastically. "In this case, I must bend to the wisdom of my father. My tribe's history recalls a time when humans were not nearly as advanced or developed as they are now. Through collective effort, they transformed themselves into what you see today. In the case of our species, my father argues that it is a lack of identity that holds us back. Many of us are nothing more than the same tribal mess that we were many moons ago. All we need is an awakening. The Commune hopes to be that awakening. And I should think it clear that we, capable of higher thought, are hardly responsible for the actions of sub-sentient creatures eating to survive."
"I am sure that is a great comfort to the people eaten by some of them, yes.Not at all dissimilar to when a friend of my father's showed me his rather expansive collection of stuffed heads." Bawen's face twisted at the thought. If there was one thing he wished his father would make a priority for their territory, it would be destroying every example of those macabre things.
"Indeed?" Honehe remarked. "Again, while I can understand some appreciation towards your father, when you tell me that one of his friends was a headhunter, I must admit I cannot see how your loyalty can be so broad."
"Because if I wasn't, I imagine the consequences would be rather unfortunate." He says simply, holding a corner of a bed sheet for Honehe. "Hold this for a moment please."
Honehe acquiesces, gripping the sheet in his bulky hand. "Then it is not loyalty, but fear, that motivates you?"
"Thank you. And no, I simply understand what there is to gain in being loyal." Bawen carefully drags the other end of the bed sheet to the other corner. "After the war, my family's holdings as well as a few others in the region were promised entrance into the Empire in thanks for our efforts. A promise that the empire decided to renege on." He tucks the bed sheet in. "Leaving everyone in that territory, human and otherwise, vulnerable to retaliatory attacks. My fathers goal is to correct that grievous error on the empires part through my efforts here."
"Is that so?" Honehe remarked, now infinitely more curious. "A lofty goal. But I must confess I fail to see how your attendance could be expected to encourage such a grand endeavor."
"I was selected to...soften the image of the territory. Less likely to think them barbarians if they permit my kind to act as a liaison. The school presents a good opportunity for me to create a name for myself in a hopefully long and productive career.The better I perform here and more positive press I generate, the more likely it will be that talks can be reopened."
"A reasonable belief. But if your territories' past experience should have taught them anything, it's that this Empire is hardly honest. The cynic in me says it is unlikely they will agree without true incentive. Wouldn't you agree?"
Bawen considers this for a moment. "I never said it was likely to happen in the immidate future. Other corner if you please." He says, tucking in the other corner. "But if nothing else, I can atleast help improve relations to the point that a possible protectorate status might be achievable within five to ten years. Resolves the more pressing military concerns of the region."
Gripping the other corner, Honehe continued. "Would they even do that? You said these territories to the south. That would extend their obligation to protect much closer to the deadlands. I would imagine they would need a significant strategic benefit to agree to such a dangerous prospect."
"Not that far west. We've got the gulf insulating us from the worst of it. And, as stated before, there is a rich local tradition of dealing with deadland visitors. And it isn't as though the region doesn't have its own standing military. Much of which operated with Imperial forces smoothly not long ago. We simply lack the resources and military berth of a developed nation."
"That is better. But I feel you're missing my point. A state is usually loathe to integrate a territory that doesn't give them benefits that outweigh the costs. What does your land have to offer the empire?"
"A standing, and formidable, navel asset for starters. While Brigader General Helmwulf might have taken the opportunity to claim, really steal, the recognition for himself, the Coridell forces in the southern gulf were doing all the dangerous missions. This is not even accounting for the other naval families in the area. But I suppose they also gain access to the southern gulf through the lands. Which, as a military asset, gives them more options for deployment should we enter another war with Airelosia."
"I see..." Honehe murmured, ruminating on the information. "The possibility certainly exists. In future, you may wish to consider how liberally you share information about your homeland. If the empire is truly concerned about the barbarity of their territories, I imagine they would be deeply concerned to learn of your father's friend's hobby. While it may mean little to tell me, others may spread the information around at their whimsy."
"Duely noted." Bawen says with a nod. "And likewise to your commune dream."
Honehe smiled once more. "I always try to be discreet. Although I would say we have nothing to hide as of yet. We certainly don't desire to integrate ourselves into this empire, and it would be foolish to hide our presence or intentions. The empire knows of us, and our intentions, but as my father says, they also know we have yet to become worth worrying about. Really, we shouldn't ever be, unless the empire takes exception to the idea of those with monstrous blood organizing." The last part was largely ironic, as Honehe was convinced the empire would indeed take exception to them organising once they became large enough to be a threat.
"Unlikely. The empire is...too tolerant." Bawen snorts, " If said commune doesn't expand southward, and culls their ferals, then I do not foresee it being an issue."Atleast in the intimidate." If Bawen has further issue on the subject, he doesn't air it.
"Of course." Honehe replied, although he did not believe a word of it. The empire merely held pretenses to inclusiveness in his mind. Taking a look out the window, Honehe continued, "Ah, but as much as I would enjoy continuing our discussions, I do believe it is getting late. We will no doubt have a full day ahead of us tomorrow. We should call it a day here. It was intriguing to learn from you, Bawen." He ended, intending to leave for his resting area when appropriate.
"Likewise Honehe." Bawen says, taking a seat at his desk and starting to work on something. He saw no real point in going to bed yet, and the review would be helpful. Sleeping at this point seemed rather wasteful anyway.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bawen stares at the final question of the written exam. He’d blown past the other subjects, barely needing a moments consideration for..any of them really. Years of late night study sessions under the watchful (and frequently disgusted) gaze of his fathers many many tutors had honed his mind to a razors edge for most topics. But be that as it may, those four little words were currently left him searching for an answer.
He doubted going on a tirade about the injustice his family faced post war was what they had in mind, and there likely was not enough time to do the topic justice. And given his conversation with his roommate earlier last night, he was in no mood to speak of it right now. He flicks the pen in his hand experimentally a few times, feeling his teeth grind together has he struggled to find an answer. Eventually, he gave up, deciding to wait patiently for the staff collect their exams. If he didn’t know the right answer, then putting nothing was the least likely thing to cause offense.
The physical exam had not been noteworthy in his mind. He’d started strong during the kilometer run, able to keep a fairly respectable pace going for the entirety. However, his attempt at the long jump was...well. It caught the examiners attention at least. That he’d managed it by virtue of tripping over himself mid jump and landing flat on his face was less encouraging. His performance at the wagon pull was equally poor, though thankfully the chimera girl he saw the day before (petting the dog...Mark?) seemed to be struggling as well.
Thankfully it was over and, for now, he could mentally prepare for the next exam, a thin dot of calm in a sea of worried freshmen. He wasn’t going to bother pestering senior students for information. The staff probably had a rotation of exams they used for this purpose, so there was no guarantee that he’d learn anything useful. Beyond that, he had a good grasp of spell casting for his age. Really the only concern was what would happen if he was paired with a foundation user during the practical exam, but there was no point in worrying over that now. The food held equally little interest to him. He’d managed to eat this morning, and despite the exercise he still felt fine.
He was tempted to just leave the cafeteria and go review some information on his own when someone sat in front of him, digging into the pasta being served. Now that she was a little closer, he realized his earlier guess of turtle as the other half of her heritage was wrong. She was armored, definitely, but there was no indication of a solid plate. It looked more like...scales. Lizard maybe?
He huffs, deciding to probe her for conversation. It was better than reviewing his own spells for the fourth time. ”You seem nervous. Think you did poorly on the other exams?” He asks his head resting lazily on his palm as he stared through her.
Bawen stares limply as Joseph grips his wrist. ”You're...hurting me.” he say flatly, attempting to ignore the sensation of the bones grinding against each other. Terror bubbles in the chimera's gut and he bites the inside of his cheek to will away the urge to flee from it.
Bawen still wasn't sure what the humans intentions with the three of them were. But with two humans striking him in one day, he decided he no longer cared. The order was given, and he had no interest in seeing what they'd do to him if he didn't fall in line. He turns his head back towards Berke and Mark, wrist still held in Joseph's grasp tightly.
”I...Apologize Mr. Bayamaar." He says, voice ringing with more refinement and a well practiced etiquette. ”Roommate selection is somewhat stressful, and I appear to have taken it out on you and your friend. I'm sure I would enjoy nothing more than the opportunity to become your friend and discuss our..." His eyes lock with Mark's before he continues, stomach rolling as he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to say. ”I believe the phrase you used was 'beast spirits'?"
He then returns his gaze to Joseph, his face not betraying his concerns about the apology sounding genuine enough to sate the human's whims. ”Is...is that sufficient sir?" He asks, quietly and carefully. @HokumPocus@Etranger@Avant
It took all of Bawen’s mental strength not to teleport as arms wrapped around him. Between the rapid fire commentary and the sudden physical contact (and subsequent movement), he barely had time to register his assailant as human. The fact that Mr. Milit had decided to wheel him over to the object of his unbridled contempt did little to sooth him, and he briefly considered politely objecting to the act. It would be wrong to do so, but he considered it nonetheless.
”My name is not Bo Peep Mr. Bayamaar.” Bawen says, the tweet of Marks whistle breaking him out of the stunned daze the sudden introductions had left him in. ”It’s Bawen Coridell.” He adds flatly, pointedly ignoring the offer the shake hands with as much indifference as he could muster. ”And despite Mr. Milit’s suggestion to the contrary, kind as it was, I frankly have zero interest in befriending either of you.”
”The Dog’s mere presence in a room drags down the collective IQ by a good 40 points and, If I’m being entirely honest, is nearly enough to sunder my very soul with disdain.”, he huffs, electing to ignore Mark’s ‘beast spirit’ comment for the moment. He turns his gaze to Berke. ”As for yourself...I find you’re overt friendliness off putting. Contempt by association is also not an inconsiderable factor.”
He takes a step back from the trio as best he can. ”Now, Mr. Milit. If this introduction was all you needed, would you care terribly if I returned to my previous seat?” He asks with a small servile nod.
Bawen spent the tour mostly in silence, quietly hanging near the back of the group to avoid any more conversations. Most of the tour did little to interest him. The Social and Arts building were, to him, an utter waste of his time, not that he'd verbalize this. He saw little point in furthering any tutelage beyond what concerned his magical education. If they were insisting on wasting his time with 'general' education, then what had been the point of all his studying up to this point. The fact that art building was home to....that thing, did little to sweeten his expression, though he managed a polite 'no thank you' to the cookie offer.
The athletics building held equally little value to him, but he couldn't really argue against it. Magic was, regretfully, as much a physical art as it was a mental one. And while he was not exactly the peak of physical conditioning, his father spared no expense in making sure Bawen had exceptional stamina. He'd have to come back later and figure out when the pool or tracks were open, preferably free from other people as well.
However, what was troubling the chimera more than anything else at the moment was the dreaded 8 by 11 in piece of paper currently gripped in his hands. Roommate. The word itself filled him with equal parts disgust and anxiety. Asking a human would be...Well. It was no option he was willing to explore.
A chimera or monster would be preferable, but that came with the issue of having to live with one of the creatures. Even at home, his family had been considerate enough to ensure he had a separate bathroom from his mother (and everyone else in the house for that matter). And while he was not a frequent sleeper, he'd much rather be alone than have a half breed (like himself, he quietly reminds himself) leering over him.
He sighs as he sits down in what he assumes to be the 'chimera' section of the cafeteria. He didn't feel like eating, the morning had spoiled any appetite he had for the next day or two. Perhaps he could just explain he couldn't find a roommate. Random assignment at least held the vain hope of being alone. “But knowing my luck...” He grumbles, turning to dully watch a chimera (bug, he guessed. Though the compound eyes gave it away) enter, “I'd be stuck with that loud mouth. Or worse. The upstart...”
A sudden burst of noise draws his attention, and Bawen quickly snaps his head around to see said loud mouth proudly claiming another chimera as his roommate. Bawen leered at the two of them, but kept quiet, not wanting a repeat performance. ”With all the noise he's making you'd think the gorilla just asked for his hand in marriage...” he huffs, quietly thanking whatever deity had stepped in and taken HIM of all people out of the potential roommate pool. .....Though he would admit, they DID make a cute couple.
Bawen choked back a sigh of annoyance that wanted to burst from him as the diminutive professor demanded his name. Not so much as to not offend Professor Vance, though he would be lying if he said that that wasn’t part of the problem. He’d heard little about the Vance twins, but the little he DID know was that the ‘younger’ one was in no way what she seemed. A wolf in sheep's clothing, if you would.
However now was not the time to have an appreciation for irony, as the woman’s glare seem to be digging into the depths of his soul. An impressive feat, considering that both he and the other chimera dwarfed the woman easily. "Bawen Coridell ma’am." He says, deflating slightly as it dawns on him that, in his first day, he’s insofar inconvenience no less than three humans. He would like to argue it was not entirely his fault, or that he’d not technically violated any social etiquette or school rules.
"If anyone’s to blame for this whole thing...” He thinks, shooting the devil boy a dirty look, "It's that filthy mutt for not knowing how to keep his mouth shut.” Still, he buried that argument deep. Giving the human excuses wouldn’t be polite and she did not seem to be in the mood for it. And frankly, this whole morning had been such a disaster that he wasn’t either.
"Please excuse me and my fellow...Chimera." He says, finally, his tone the picture of propriety and grace, but the last word still somehow dripped with venom. "We're both immensely sorry for any disturbance we might have caused." he adds, watching as the two previously fleeing humans get caught by another staff member. Hopefully, owning up to the disturbance to Vance might differ most of the blame to them. And that he just so happened to be dragging the devil boy down with him, well...it was a nice bonus. @pkken@FlitterFaux@Jay Kalton
Bawen sat patiently in the girls grip, making no real movements outside of the occasional shifting of his weight for comfort. If she was going to continue slapping him, he was at least going to give her the courtesy of being sure footed when she did so. He was just about ready for the next strike when something flashed across the girls face, his words finally seeming to have register in her mind. Anger still seemed to roll off of her if soft waves, though now tempered by something.
It was an odd change, though one he scarcely had time to analyze before he heard someone behind him demand his release. The girls eases for a moment and Bawen almost considers simply stepping out of her way as something (presumably the speaker) drags him backwards with all the force of a child winning a game of tug of war over a stuffed toy. Momentum carries the sheep boy farther than intended, planting him ass first back into the chair he came from. It took him a few moments to realize the boy he'd been sitting with had decided to intervene, now close enough to the human girl that he was pretty sure they could smell each others displeasure if they so choose.
Anxiety shoots through the chimera's mind for a second, worried the two humans might come to blows. Not helped that he couldn't figure out the reason for the boy's interference. In so far, the girl had done nothing Bawen considered wholly unreasonable. Unexpected, to be sure, but she was well with in her rights to-"But if you wish to harm someone for the misplaced views he espouses, I ask that you do so with me."
And like that, a realization sets in, followed swiftly by mild irritation. The boy seemed to be under the very false impression that he needed to be SAVED from the girls grip. He was about to stand back up and gently reassure the boy that, despite what his bleeding heart might be saying, that everything was fine when the tall shadow of a third interruption loomed into his vision. Thankfully, it was just a chimera, with a bloodline so thin he almost looked entirely human. Under normal circumstances, Bawen wagers he would be feeling somewhat envious of the boys good (human) looks. But then again, under normal circumstance the other chimera probably wouldn't be glaring at the sheep boy with enmity to burn a hole in the ozone. The girl, who looked decidedly over with this conversation the moment the other boy rushed her, slinks away to safety and the sheep chimera was tempted to go with her.
However, it was probably best to deal with the remaining two boys first. The devil looked to be out for blood and Bawen couldn't risk the human doing something stupid for his sake. "I can assure both of you..." He says, his voice sounding less hallow than before as he stood up, cutting an immensely less impressive figure than the other two. "That I do not need nor want anyone to fight my battles for me. Not that there is any to be had at the moment." he said, stepping to the side of both of them and giving the human a polite but terse nod. He then turns to the devil, locking eyes with the other one of his 'kind' before continuing in a harsher almost scolding tone. "And even if I did, I do not think I need to remind either of you that fighting or using magic outside of the arena or classes is a practice best reserved for idiots looking to face disciplinary action." he says, lamely raising a finger to point behind the devil at the steadily advancing staff member.
Bawen considered the young man next to him carefully. He hadn’t noticed him when he had sat down, a mistake on his part. But, if the boy had taken any offense at his intrusion he made no show of it, for which the chimera was grateful. The dealing with the mutts outburst had been embarrassing enough without having to wander about the cafeteria in search of a socially acceptable seat. He allowed the room to wash over him for a moment, the din of utensils on plates and idle chatter almost thunderous in the interpersonal silence. Bawen was considering broaching some idle small talk, if only to diffuse the awkwardness of his presence, when the young man blind sided him.
"They don't tell you about what happens when you go home, they don't tell you about the nightmares and the panic attacks. They don't tell you how much a thing like Vivat can damage somebody, how war breaks people."
Bawen gawked at the boy for a moment, unsure what to make of that statement. Was he...being threatened? No. The man sounded more haunted than hostile. He clears his throat quietly, deciding this was as good an invitation to start a conversation as any.
”...I apologize sir, but I've missed out on some much needed conteBaaa-” A bleat escapes him as he’s yanked from his chair, gumbo clattering to the floor below. Thinking it was the dog chimera, a brief flash of agitation shot through Bawen and a scowl planted itself firmly on his face. Well, if nothing else, teleporting away and watching the gormless mutt strike air would prove amusing.
However, any sense of rebellion was sucked from him the moment his gaze met his assailants, replaced only with mild panic and instinctive urge. The strike hits him with full effectiveness, a outcome as much his own choice as his attackers. To roll with the hit would be disrespectful, and to stand firm against it would be seen as defiant. Better to simply take the strike you earned and be done with it.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Have you even looked in a mirror lately?! You're just as much a 'half-breed' as he is! But as far as I'm concerned you're the only worthless one I see here."
Bawen swallows the urge to rub the growing welt on his face. Ah, she must be annoyed he yelled at the mutt. Well, atleast they had only managed to agitate one patron, albeit one with an impressive left. ”I apologize ma’am.” He says casually, his tone flat and indifferent as though this were a daily occurrence. ” I meant no disrespect in disturbing your meal. While his behavior is an embarrassment, you're right in pointing out I am no better. Thank you so much for the correction.” He stares at her blankly, sleepless eyes looking almost bored with the exchange. ”....Is there anything else you need miss? I've spilt mediocre gumbo to clean." he asks, limply leaning into the grip. @hagroden@FlitterFaux
Never before had Bawen been so appreciative of his lack of stature than in the crowded confines of the courtyard. The train ride had been tolerable enough, despite being forced into the company of his own kind. He quietly shuddered, remembering an odd spider like...boy, he decided, who seemed to be not quite all there. Thankfully, he vanished into the crowd as he watched the odd arachnid turn his attention to another poor soul. Though he slipped under the sight of most of the humans, his horns did draw one or two odd looks, prompting a quick mumbled apology from the chimera before he was quickly forgotten. Normally his sense of of propriety would be screaming at him for so much as daring to stand anywhere but the fringes of a room, but he permitted himself an indulgence just this once. There didn’t seem to be a conversation anywhere in ear shot, but he could hardly hear the film being played as his own heartbeat attempted to deafen him.
It was nice to stand among them, only to be ignored. At home, even the servants stared at him with thinly veiled disgust (not that he blamed them). But here? There were far more vulgar examples of his kind. Hell, when compared to the administrator he was almost...-the thought stops there. He scolded himself for letting himself get carried away. The humans around him were already being so kind as to ignore his little transgression into what was, by right, their territory. Thinking their indifference was in anyway akin of acceptance was just spitting in the face of that kindness.
He remained quiet as the tour group shambled inside, only numbly registering Volkova’s explanations. Silently he noted he would need to return later that night to begin reading through what records he was permitted in their entirety. If he was lucky, he could have them memorized and transcribed to his own documents within two to three months, class work pending.
Obtaining food, however, was the current challenge. More specifically was doing so without inconveniencing someone, and there were one or two false starts before he was finally sandwiched between two chimera’s in the queue. He was surprised to find Airelosian sea food, though it did not smell like it had back home. Despite concerns about the freshness of it, he resigned himself to a small helping of what smelt to be shrimp gumbo.
He eyed it suspiciously as he exited the line, looking for a place to sit before catching sight of a mop of white hair. The girl was odd. Human, definately. But there was a wraith like beauty about her. He was about to walk over and take a seat when his earlier transgression pushed itself back into his mind, his face flushing in shame before he quickly scanned the room.
A small bubble of relief allowed itself to burst in his chest as he spotted the other chimeras congregating in the southeast corner of the the cafeteria. If nothing else, they seemed civil enough not to inconvenience the humans while eating….or failing that, were smart enough to understand proximity to their slop trough was a good thing. He was no more than three feet from sitting down near a dog chimera, currently being petting by...some sort of turtle girl(he guessed?) long since removed from her bestial heritage but still bearing its taint all the same, before the boy erupted into an impressive tirade.
"IF YOU EXCUSE ME SOLDIER, I WILL CONTINUE TO ENERGIZE MY BODY. YOU ARE WELCOME TO JOIN AS A FELLOW STUDENT."
It took all Bawen’s self-control to choke back the small bleat of surprise that half way escaped him. He looked about nervously, his fear confirmed that a few humans had noticed and were visibly agitated by the outburst. He needed to distance himself from this social SNAFU, and do so now. His brain raced as he looked for a way out, eyes darting back and forth between the white haired human and the dog chimera.
He decided the best course of action was to answer him as though it had been a question. He locked eyes with the canine his voice an almost breathless rasp as it escaped him. ”Never in a thousand years, you worthless half breed.” he said, each syllable almost dropping through the floor as he spoke. He turned and made a calm, but faster than he intended, bee line to the white haired human. He takes the seat opposite of her wordlessly, staring into his gumbo as though it would tell him his future. Well...it smelt of gumbo, atleast.
Appearance: Standing at a pathetic 5'0, most people see Bawen as little more than a pair of yellow-tan horns nestled quietly in a mess of curly black hair just below their sightline. He seems almost painfully thin, what little muscle visible tightly corded beneath pale skin almost begging for natural sunlight. The only color to him seems to be the considerable bags under his eyes, smokey and flushed purple from far too little sleep. If asked, he'd likely say he weighs around 100 pounds, though how accurate this is is debatable. His eyes seem to be the only feature that do not scream of neglect or disinterest, self inflicted or otherwise. They are odd things, an unnaturally bright blue iris around a squared pupil with an alertness entirely at odds with rest of himself.
Age: 17
Species: 3rd generation Sheep Chimera (Medium)
Gender: Male
Occupation: Student 1st year.
Personality: Bawen is at once both deathly loyal to his family and utterly terrified of not meeting their exceedingly high expectations of him. As such he is dedicated to his studies to the point of borderline self-destruction, often spending days without sleep or food to mastering even the most innocuous elements of magecraft. He has immense difficulty in speaking to other people, and is easily frustrated when they inevitably fail to follow his train of thought (which is often somewhat inverted from the norm, in fairness). Due to his family, he is disgusted with his status as a chimera, and tends to be somewhat subservient to 'pure blood' humans.
Magic Type Preference:Null magic-Walking awkwardly between traditional conjuration and alteration schools, Null magic deals with using one's strength of Compromise and Vision to deny reality, and thus evoke change. Where as a 'normal' mage may use magic to will an object into existence, a Null mage will use their magic to deny the desired objects non-existence. Though similar, Mages skilled in null magic can be difficult for other compromise and vision based mages to deal with, as their evocations are often layered with contradictions and double think. However, it is especially vulnerable to foundation base casters, whose grounding in reality insulate them heavily from the intentionally backwards logic null mages employ.
Innate Magic Talent:Double space- By denying the idea that something occupies the space it currently is while simultaneously denying it is not NOT in a space he desires it to be, Bawen is capable of teleporting both himself and objects. While teleporting others is possible, it is best avoided, as minds not accustomed to Null logic may resist the spell out of reflex.
Interests: logic puzzles, study / research, poorly conceived (and written) romantic novels, crotchet, that feeling you get right before you body passes out from exhaustion.
Skills: Can stay awake for a week at a time if left to his own devices(and will). Speaks Airelosian fluently. Magical energy reserves for days if you could ever get him to properly take care of himself. Bleats when surprised (which isn't really a skill, but it is cute.)
Biography: By the time he was four, Bawen was keenly aware of the reputation of the Coridell family. Every Chimera who made their home along the coast south-east of the Unoctocan Empire did, and for good reason. Their presence in the region was as much a constant as the razor fields, and far more dangerous He could remember the village apothecary scaring him and his playmates with bogeyman esq tales of Coridell ships slipping silently into towns to steal away ill behaved boys and girls to make grotesque trophies of them.
The truth, however, was that they were originally a few Airelosians families who had fled their homes after some failed coup long since forgotten. A token effort at founding a new ‘nation’ was made, but was little more than a self-indulgent game of pretend for the idle mercenaries. And for a long time, that was as much as there was to it. The Coridells were, if he were being objective, nothing more than one of many domestic dangers that peppered the free territoires for much of their history. They’d only come into any ‘real’ form of power after selling their services to the Empire as ‘privateers’. A task they completed with a thoroughness that shocked even the Airelosians. He heard it said that it was actually possible to determine to the day when a port town was destroyed by simply measuring the depth of the crater where it once stood.
He was eleven when he first met his father, whose preoccupation with the war effort had, to borrow his own words ‘distracted’ him from Bawen’s existence. The reunion was far from the saccharine ordeal the boy had envisioned it would be. The elder Coridell seemed to look through him as he explained why he summoned them, stopping only to hush the fussy toddler perched on his knee with uncharacteristic gentleness.
Though now arguably one of the wealthier families in the free territories, the war had ended on a less than ideal note for the once proud ‘privateers’ of the empire. Unoctoc, though more than happy to maintain a token friendship, found the Coridells and their lands too rabid to be accepted as Imperial citizens, and the war-profiteers found themselves missing the steady income their patrons once provided. That Airelosia was watching them, silently hungry for revenge, was also a concern, albeit one that rung dimly in the halls of the estate.
Though they had free reign to come and go as they pleased, true membership was not an option until the softened their considerably harsh image. A task which was to fall to Bawen. In exchange, both he and his mother would be accepted into the family, despite their ‘condition’. Needless to say, refusing was not an option either chimera was eager to explore.
Bawen attempted to resist at first, accepting his lessons purely as a matter of survival. But the threats of summary execution where constant and reminders of his status as a lesser thing too frequent to ignore. He can't remember when he finally accepted it as truth. But it was his truth now as much as it was theirs, and he found himself mostly enjoying his new home not long after.
His father Harkin was kind when Bawen obeyed, at times he almost seemed proud, and he was nearly brought to tears whenever his younger brother Doril asked him to play. He never accepted, of course. There was too much to do and it would not have been proper. His step mother Raja was difficult to read, their exchanges often being limited to orders grunted in disgust, but there was a comfort in the indifference at least.
His actual mother proved to be the most wearing, always staring at him as if something had be ripped from his hands. He avoided speaking to her whenever possible. Their conversations were rarely productive in anyway and he refused to let the other chimera infect him with whatever it was that ate at her. His acceptance letter to Mordhaben’s was a welcomed excuse to be free of her and, more importantly, finally start improving his family's reputation.
Appearance: Standing at a pathetic 5'0, most people see Bawen as little more than a pair of yellow-tan horns nestled quietly in a mess of curly black hair just below their sightline. He seems almost painfully thin, what little muscle visible tightly corded beneath pale skin almost begging for natural sunlight. The only color to him seems to be the considerable bags under his eyes, smokey and flushed purple from far too little sleep. If asked, he'd likely say he weighs around 100 pounds, though how accurate this is is debatable. His eyes seem to be the only feature that do not scream of neglect or disinterest, self inflicted or otherwise. They are odd things, an unnaturally bright blue iris around a squared pupil with an alertness entirely at odds with rest of himself.
Age: 17
Species: 3rd generation Sheep Chimera (Medium)
Gender: Male
Occupation: Student 1st year.
Personality: Bawen is at once both deathly loyal to his family and utterly terrified of not meeting their exceedingly high expectations of him. As such he is dedicated to his studies to the point of borderline self-destruction, often spending days without sleep or food to mastering even the most innocuous elements of magecraft. He has immense difficulty in speaking to other people, and is easily frustrated when they inevitably fail to follow his train of thought (which is often somewhat inverted from the norm, in fairness). Due to his family, he is disgusted with his status as a chimera, and tends to be somewhat subservient to 'pure blood' humans.
Magic Type Preference:Null magic-Walking awkwardly between traditional conjuration and alteration schools, Null magic deals with using one's strength of Compromise and Vision to deny reality, and thus evoke change. Where as a 'normal' mage may use magic to will an object into existence, a Null mage will use their magic to deny the desired objects non-existence. Though similar, Mages skilled in null magic can be difficult for other compromise and vision based mages to deal with, as their evocations are often layered with contradictions and double think. However, it is especially vulnerable to foundation base casters, whose grounding in reality insulate them heavily from the intentionally backwards logic null mages employ.
Innate Magic Talent:Double space- By denying the idea that something occupies the space it currently is while simultaneously denying it is not NOT in a space he desires it to be, Bawen is capable of teleporting both himself and objects. While teleporting others is possible, it is best avoided, as minds not accustomed to Null logic may resist the spell out of reflex.
Interests: logic puzzles, study / research, poorly conceived (and written) romantic novels, crotchet, that feeling you get right before you body passes out from exhaustion.
Skills: Can stay awake for a week at a time if left to his own devices(and will). Speaks Airelosian fluently. Magical energy reserves for days if you could ever get him to properly take care of himself. Bleats when surprised (which isn't really a skill, but it is cute.)
Biography: By the time he was four, Bawen was keenly aware of the reputation of the Coridell family. Every Chimera who made their home along the coast south-east of the Unoctocan Empire did, and for good reason. Their presence in the region was as much a constant as the razor fields, and far more dangerous He could remember the village apothecary scaring him and his playmates with bogeyman esq tales of Coridell ships slipping silently into towns to steal away ill behaved boys and girls to make grotesque trophies of them.
The truth, however, was that they were originally a few Airelosians families who had fled their homes after some failed coup long since forgotten. A token effort at founding a new ‘nation’ was made, but was little more than a self-indulgent game of pretend for the idle mercenaries. And for a long time, that was as much as there was to it. The Coridells were, if he were being objective, nothing more than one of many domestic dangers that peppered the free territoires for much of their history. They’d only come into any ‘real’ form of power after selling their services to the Empire as ‘privateers’. A task they completed with a thoroughness that shocked even the Airelosians. He heard it said that it was actually possible to determine to the day when a port town was destroyed by simply measuring the depth of the crater where it once stood.
He was eleven when he first met his father, whose preoccupation with the war effort had, to borrow his own words ‘distracted’ him from Bawen’s existence. The reunion was far from the saccharine ordeal the boy had envisioned it would be. The elder Coridell seemed to look through him as he explained why he summoned them, stopping only to hush the fussy toddler perched on his knee with uncharacteristic gentleness.
Though now arguably one of the wealthier families in the free territories, the war had ended on a less than ideal note for the once proud ‘privateers’ of the empire. Unoctoc, though more than happy to maintain a token friendship, found the Coridells and their lands too rabid to be accepted as Imperial citizens, and the war-profiteers found themselves missing the steady income their patrons once provided. That Airelosia was watching them, silently hungry for revenge, was also a concern, albeit one that rung dimly in the halls of the estate.
Though they had free reign to come and go as they pleased, true membership was not an option until the softened their considerably harsh image. A task which was to fall to Bawen. In exchange, both he and his mother would be accepted into the family, despite their ‘condition’. Needless to say, refusing was not an option either chimera was eager to explore.
Bawen attempted to resist at first, accepting his lessons purely as a matter of survival. But the threats of summary execution where constant and reminders of his status as a lesser thing too frequent to ignore. He can't remember when he finally accepted it as truth. But it was his truth now as much as it was theirs, and he found himself mostly enjoying his new home not long after.
His father Harkin was kind when Bawen obeyed, at times he almost seemed proud, and he was nearly brought to tears whenever his younger brother Doril asked him to play. He never accepted, of course. There was too much to do and it would not have been proper. His step mother Raja was difficult to read, their exchanges often being limited to orders grunted in disgust, but there was a comfort in the indifference at least.
His actual mother proved to be the most wearing, always staring at him as if something had be ripped from his hands. He avoided speaking to her whenever possible. Their conversations were rarely productive in anyway and he refused to let the other chimera infect him with whatever it was that ate at her. His acceptance letter to Mordhaben’s was a welcomed excuse to be free of her and, more importantly, finally start improving his family's reputation.
FlappyTheSpybot