March Activity
Points Earned: 1
Check: Reason +1
Skill Changes:
Reason A (1) -> Reason A (2)
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@elrean
March Activity
Points Earned: 1
Check: Reason +1
Skill Changes:
Reason A (1) -> Reason A (2)

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(5 minutes into tutoring session) we should turn on each other
apprehension swiftly takes root when professor elrean addresses her, followed by a flicker of self-consciousness that lingers upon noticing the whispers and glances following his request. nevertheless, she keeps a stiff spine, determined not to let on while quietly tending to her notes for the remainder of her class.
upon its conclusion, dorothea rises to a dutiful stand, remaining by her desk as she waits for further address. an attempt is made to pay no heed to the remaining looks that are tossed her way, her expression placid save for the subtle drop of the shoulders that indicate relief upon learning sheâs not in trouble.
âmy study materialsâŚ?â she repeats with some confusion, her brow furrowing until his pointed look draws her attention to the tome atop her desk, its cover worn by time and rough handling. âoh!â
a frown pulls at her lips. she's unsure of how to go about explaining the unusual interest sheâd taken in the subject â as well as the odd stirrings sheâd experienced since flipping through its pages. strange voices and thoughts following certain chapters she'd skimmed, and the disturbing feeling that sheâd gotten herself into something she could not even begin to fathom.
âyou could say that,â dorothea starts carefully, âi donât really care for gods themselves, butâŚthe pursuit of magic studies brought me to this, i guess. if i want to catch up to my peers, i should be learning about everything i possibly can.â she pauses, unsure if it's worth dragging another into this....though who better to confide in than a professor of magic himself?
nevertheless, she decides to err on the side of caution for the time being. âi felt...drawn to it,â is all she offers for now. "that's normal, isn't it? an innate curiosity and whatnot?"
in-between the lines, there is something else she voices. a subdued fear, a search for reassurance.
Elrean had a similar set of books in his office, tucked in drawers to be read in a moment of peace. Originally an object of academic curiosity, he could not deny that eventually it had found its way to the back of his mind- thoughts in the back of his mind highlighting passages, running through them again until they seemed to be worn smooth.
Enough that he could have dismissed it as harmless. Could have, if he were not familiar with the feeling of something else in his mind, twisting and curling, marking itself as the uglier parts of himself- and knowing how accepting it would end.
But that was not something to share with one of his students, only to be cautious of on his own.
"Naturally," It isn't a reassurance as much as a blunt statement of fact. That it was not only normal but natural, an occurrence that should be observed more often than it truly is. Not dismissive- not of her, at least- but of others, who would make her believe otherwise in the first place.
"You are a student- curiosity is what is expected of you. That being said⌠I happen to have been studying this particular topic recently as well," Here he pauses, taking a moment to check the titles that she had in her collection.
"If you are interested in pursuing this topic further, come to my office hours. I can recommend you a few more books."
WHAT ENTERS THE ROOM BEFORE YOU DO?
( Elrean, )
THE INTENSITY
You arrive carrying depth in your eyes. Even in stillness, thereâs a sense that something inside you is awake - thinking, feeling, holding layers. You donât enter spaces casually; you enter whole. Some people lean toward you, drawn by the gravity. Others feel exposed, like small talk wonât survive in your presence. You donât do shallow easily. Not because youâre heavy but because youâre honest. You bring meaning into rooms, even when you wish you could leave things light for once. Colours: Burgundy, ink black, deep indigo Scene: Sitting across from someone in quiet conversation, neither of you looking away, both aware something real is happening.
skill issue
Elrean + Sanaki, relics (aphotic)
"Who even cares? No, really, think about it for a moment."
To punctuate her point, the empress presses her hands flat against the table, levelling an arrogant gaze at her classmates. The dining hall is lively with discussion, lordlings and commoners alike gathered in fierce debate. If the more uptight nobles are affronted by her flippant tone, she pays them no mind. Sanaki's got far more surprising improprieties, after all; meet her with sound arguments or not at all, is what she's decided.
She rests her chin on her hands. "It's not uncommon for nobility to bequeath regalia upon their favored vassals, and it's certainly proper for said vassals to fawn and exclaim upon receiving them like they're gifts from the heavens." Sanaki had been robbed of the amusing sight, honestly. Ike was too much of a simple country boy and Zelgius, well, never really exclaimed over anything. "But in the end, a blade is a blade and a tome is a tome. Their only true value is the power they have to kill."
Looking away, she grabs the pot of lukewarm tea and pours some into her cup. "If I were you, I'd be more worried about the actual illusory magic that gave just about anybody holy blood. Goddess knows I wasn't prepared to suddenly, hmm, experience the Crest of Blaiddyd, for lack of a better word." With a flick of her hand, she sets Cymbeline softly alight with its own flames, placing her teacup upon the cover. "But if one is powerful enough to wield regalia, isn't that sufficient in and of itself?"
So I can do whatever I want with it. She gestures at her makeshift tea warmer with a self-satisfied smirk. "Your time would be better spent honing your skills than wringing your hands over this nonsense. Legacy, inheritanceâŚ" she continues with a shrug, "it's mostly an excuse."
@elrean
The prattle of students was an unfortunate byproduct of being a professor- hardly an unexpected one, of course, but the knowledge of its existence did not make its presence any less irritating. Normally, he could dismiss it as he would dismiss any he would as any other chatter, distractions at best, proof of either waning concentration or lack of drive.
Elrean does not pay it any mind- would not, if he didn't happen to catch what the topic was about. That being the debates currently circling the monastery regarding the recent arena- and more importantly, how it had provided those who entered access to various regalia.
He had been granted a sword, of all things, one that he didn't know the owner of and did not care to find out. What starts as complaints begins to devolve into debate, but even then he has neither responsibility nor care to break it up. Perhaps they could use this chance to think of something worthwhile.
Despite his own opinions, the mage intends to simply pass them by, and thus wash his hands of the whole debate. After all, he was not so ignorant as to believe that the monastery did not have its own intentions of what he should or should not express, as a member of its faculty- all the same, he was not so weak-willed as to guess what it may be before it was mentioned to him. And that would lead to the natural conclusionâŚ
If Elrean participates in this discussion, he will likely say something that will get him in some amount of trouble with his superiors.
"Professor!" Drat. Apparently the violet-haired student had done too well at her argument- else there would be no point in dragging the nearest person of authority into the debate. One of the students, likely having no good opinion of their own, flags him down. Given the look in their eyes, it seems they expected for him to take their side- and in that assumption, do they seal their fate.
"What?" He snaps first. "She's right, you know."
He recognizes her, as one of his students, though that was neither here nor there. "All these weapons are passed down through bloodlines through a tradition that likely began because the family held some trait that allowed them to wield it. If someone else has that same ability, through coincidence or otherwise, the only thing they're missing is access to the weapon- not prestige."
[ TXT ] : Sorry for this... This is Katarina. Someone changed all the names in my phone.
[ TXT ] : [ a picture of rows of text conversations, all titled or with someone named 'UWEE HEEHEE' ]
[ TXT ] : Um... Who is this?
[ TXT ] : Letting others change your contact information is a security risk, you know.
[ TXT ] : This is Elrean.
[⌠is typing.]
(10 minutes later)
[ TXT ] : Who even did this? How childish.
[ TXT ] : You'd better not contact me about something like this again.

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[ TXT ] : Are you taking care of yourself? [ TXT ] : If there's anything you need, I can bring it over.
[⌠is typing.]
Read 3:05 PM
[⌠is typing.]
[ TXT ] : Of course I am.
[ TXT ] : It is important to manage my health in order to maintain productivity.
[⌠is typing.]
[ TXT ] : But
[ TXT ] : If you happen to be in the area
[ TXT ] : I am out of tylenol.
[ TXT ] : Forgive me the late message, but I believe I left my bag in your classroom. Have you left yet, or would I be able to stop in quickly to grab it?
[ TXT ] : There's nothing particularly important in there, but I would prefer to have my notes on hand to go over tonight rather than right before the next class I help with.
[ TXT ] : Unless you'd prefer me to arrive earlier then usual tomorrow in order to claim it, of course.
[ TXT ] : Oh.
[ TXT ] : It was your bag?
[ ⌠is typing.]
[ TXT ] : If you can get here in the next thirty minutes, I don't mind.
[ TXT ] : I'm still grading papers.
[⌠is typing.]
[ TXT ] : Keep a better eye on your things. We need to set a good example for the students.
[ TXT ] : i already said i don't want to talk to you. and don't send anyone else to find me, or else.
[ TXT ] : because i have a really vicious dog now. he's REALLY vicious. i mean it! he'll bite you.
[ TXT ] : i'm sorry!! wrong number!
[⌠is typing.]
[ TXT ] : What?
[ TXT ] : If you have a stalking problem
[ TXT ] : Messaging strangers is a bad idea.
[⌠is typing.]
[ TXT ] : so sorry to bother!! i know we just wrapped up and you're probably on your way home, but i left my keys at the tutoring center [ TXT ] : is there any chance it's still open? do you know of anyone who might be there still?
[TXT] : It's still open.
[⌠is typing]
[TXT] : You're lucky that I stayed late today. Send a message when you're here.
[TXT] : I'll unlock the door.
He stays late every day, but she doesn't need to know that.
[TXT] : Be more careful. If I weren't here, you won't be able to get them back until the next morning.
âąË・â ⪠đ đđđđ đđ đťđŹđłđŹđˇđŻđśđľđŹ .   (  a  collection  of  texting prompts. feel free to change phrasing.  potentially mature content within.  )
[ TXT ] : why are you still awake?
[ TXT ] : hey, where did you go?
[ TXT ] : it's getting bad again.
[ TXT ] : guess i'll just sit in bed. alone. by myself.
[ TXT ] : you can't ignore me forever.
[ TXT ] : i can't stop thinking about you.
[ TXT ] : just saw i called you last night. how'd that go?
[ TXT ] : i really need someone right now.
[ TXT ] : we need to make plans asap.
[ TXT ] : have you seen the news?
[ TXT ] : you were blackout drunk.
[ TXT ] : testing to see if you blocked my number...
[ TXT ] : do you know anything about doing stitches?
[ TXT ] : just please let me know you're okay.
[ TXT ] : did you forget we had plans?
[ TXT ] : i know you see my messages, your read receipts are on.
[ TXT ] : meet me at [ location ], it's important.
[ TXT ] : do you need comfort, to vent, or a solution?
[ TXT ] : is there anything i should bring?
[ TXT ] : call me. please, it's important.
[ TXT ] : i can't sleep.
[ TXT ] : have you eaten today?
[ TXT ] : you are always going to be my priority.
[ TXT ] : i haven't seen you around in awhile.
[ TXT ] : i had a dream about you last night.
[ TXT ] : the names are gonna get mean if you don't text me back.
[ TXT ] : at the risk of sounding cliche, what are you wearing?
[ TXT ] : just say the word and i'll drop everything.
[ TXT ] : do you seriously not remember?
[ TXT ] : come to the front door.
[ TXT ] : have you been drinking?
[ TXT ] : how do you feel after last night?
[ TXT ] : are you up? please be up.
[ TXT ] : you looked beautiful today.
[ TXT ] : i have so much to tell you.
[ TXT ] : no one's heard from you. are you okay?
[ TXT ] : who is this?
[ TXT ] : are you taking care of yourself?
[ TXT ] : thought i'd reach out and see how you're doing.
[ TXT ] : i miss the taste of your lips.
[ TXT ] : that kiss was really nice.
[ TXT ] : stop acting so high and mighty.
[ TXT ] : i left my [ item ] at your place.
[ TXT ] : are we still fighting?
[ TXT ] : i need help and i can't go to the hospital.
[ TXT ] : are you thinking about me too?
[ TXT ] : call me, i wanna hear your voice.
[ TXT ] : i don't want to talk to you.
[ TXT ] : what do you have to lose?
[ TXT ] : you don't have to ask, i'm already on my way.
[ TXT ] : i want to take a nap on you.
[ TXT ] : even if you called 6 months later at 3am, i'd answer.
[ TXT ] : what's my name in your phone?
[ TXT ] : how's trying to forget about me going?
[ TXT ] : i have nobody else to ask.
[ TXT ] : what do you mean you're at the hospital??
[ TXT ] : sorry, i think you have the wrong number.
[ TXT ] : good morning! you up yet?
[ TXT ] : do i sense sarcasm in your tone?
[ TXT ] : you start your day at 2pm?
[ TXT ] : you need MY help?
[ TXT ] : stop texting me.
[ TXT ] : i'll leave that up to your imagination.
[ TXT ] : are you asking me to sneak out?
[ TXT ] : when will i see you again?
[ TXT ] : if you come over, i'll order us a pizza.
[ TXT ] : are we ever going to talk about it?
[ TXT ] : can you come get me out of here?
[ TXT ] : you mean like ... a BODY - body?
[ TXT ] : it's just been one thing after another lately.
[ TXT ] : forgiving and forgetting is harder than it sounds.
[ TXT ] : i want your legs wrapped around my head.
[ TXT ] : call me when you wake up.
[ TXT ] : what are you doing that's more important than me?
[ TXT ] : i'm out of town right now.

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February Activity
Points Earned: 1
Check: Reason +1
Skill Changes:
Reason A -> Reason A (1)
maybe icarus just wasn't a good enough mechanic || fĂĄfnir & elrean
aphotic || flying +1
"I take it you've never heard the word rhetorical or learned its meaning." No matter, a fool indeed their dearest captain was and fools he led if they think he'll be found. What does that say about them for continuing to search for a man most certainly dead or starving towards it?
FĂĄfnir finds that this man, pretty though he may be, has a mouth he'd like to hear little from. "My, defensive are we?" His lips curve into a gentle smirk as he guides them further up in the clouds, cloaking them for a brief moment.
"Do tell, where is it you think we might head next? The west has ripples that indicate movement of sorts and to the east the wind carries a tinge of smoke." Regardless of his choice, the answer would be the same, they'd find jack and perhaps his partner in crime, shit.
Elrean huffs in response, turning his head away in a gesture that was mostly symbolic, choosing not to deign his partner with any response.
It isn't until that their next destination is brought up does he turn back- the same exasperation remaining firmly on his face.
"East, unless you fancy wandering upon the very skirmishes we're trying to avoid."
Snappish, but more focused on the task at hand over anything else, Elrean scans the area as they fly over. "And fly a little lower, or else we'll find nothing."
hostage situation
mission board: aphotic / pirate hostage prompt.
Diamant's eyes widen at the other's reaction, skin crawling at the threat of magic. Being held in captivity for days would no doubt have anyone on edge, but this man was more hostile than he would have expected. Was it just in his nature (which would certainly explain why he was the only one to get caught), or had the pirates put him through such torture to warrant it?
Either way, the Brodian didn't plan to be on the receiving end of a blast of lightning, so he raises one hand in an attempt to deescalate, slowly crouching as he sets the tray of prison food on the floor.
"...Clearly," he starts, knee on the ground as he lowers his voice to a whisper, "You're not one to just sit back and die. That's good. But if we're going to escape, I'm going to need you to reign it in."
"I'm also a professor," he clarifies, "Blue Lions. The church sent me to get you. In my infiltration, I've canvassed the entire ship during all the busy work they've lumped on me." He glances around the empty hall, "...Once night falls, there's a smaller fishing boat out on the lower deck we can use."
Lightning crackles just once more before coming to a stop, surprise cutting the attack short more than the acknowledgement of a savior. He lowers his hand, but not his guard, eyeing the man suspiciously.
For not the first time, Elrean wished that he had paid a little more attention to his coworkers- it would have helped him determine whether this man was telling the truth or not, at least. But the two of them almost certainly taught very different classes, so even if he didâŚ
No use dwelling on it now.
Finally, he releases his breath, and sits back down. Tension still made itself clear in the tapping of a single finger on his arm, a futile attempt to hide his worry.
"So you say." Elrean is certainly not blind to the fact that he only had this man's word to count upon, but all the same this was the closest chance he has had to escaping in the last few days. He grasps at it, even if he himself could not fully place his faith in it. "What do you need me to do?"
you can't spell valentine without i
     ⤡   non-mission task:  epidemic ( gauntlet +1 )
  The Day of Devotion comes but once a year, and for it, one ought to make the most special gift for those they care for goes the advertising speak once one makes it past the Stefanelli posters and closer to the shop itself. Hired persons hawk for potential new students/customers, willing to use any and all arguments to reel them in and beyond the door.Â
And, well, Joachim finds himself counted among their successful attempts, now standing behind a countertop alongside around twenty or so other hopeful amateur chocolatiers.
âYou'll be sharing your work station with one other student. Think of it this way: if you can't be considerate of the person you're working with, how will you ever be considerate enough to make your one-of-a-kind, spectacular gift for your loved one?â Stefanelli announces at the front of the class, standing tall and projecting loudly and clearly for all to hear.
(The arrangements are definitely not because there isn't enough space to give each person their own space, no siree.)
The pâtissier goes on to start giving an introduction on how to work with chocolate, encouraging everyone after that's been concluded to decide between dark or milk chocolate, the general shape of the chocolate they wish to make, and then to begin chopping the cacao butter once they've got their design choices in mind. Everything they'd need, he claims, would be at their work station already for them.
âLooks like we'll be sharing a station and ingredients then,â Joachim turns to the blond man beside him. âMy name's Joachim. If you have something you need for yours, I don't mind leaving it for you. Do you have an idea in mind yet for your chocolate?â
@elrean !!
If everyone who stood (paired, of all things, in this exercise!) in the room was a fool, then, in this particular case, Elrean could not count himself as one of their betters. After all, was he not standing here as well?
His face burns. He tries not to look in the direction of the chocolatier- much less in the direction of the other participants, but unfortunately, that could only manifest itself as a glare in the direction of the ingredients.Â
If looks could kill, the entire workshop would be in need of more sugar. But the sugar remains untouched all the way until the pâtissier ceases his prattling. Despite his expression, Elrean doesn't waste any time gathering the ingredients that had been listed earlier- he had been listening, for the most part.
Time to finally make the damn sweet and leave- or so he thought. The man beside him thinks its wise to begin their own conversation, instead of starting to work on the sweets themselves- even offering the shared ingredients!
They were shared, that was the point.
Was he stupid?
âW-What? Of course not!â Elrean huffs, throwing a glare to the now slightly-quieter pâtissier, who doesnât notice. âHe just finished explaining how to create chocolate. Any idea made on such short notice is rushed.â
âIt's better to think things through.â He finally eyes his partner, judgment clear in his expression, âDo you have something already in mind?â
January Activity
Points Earned: 1
Check: Reason +1
Skill Changes:
Reason B+ (1) -> Reason A
Claims:
Nova (Reason A) [Pending] Dark Bishop (Reason A) [Pending] Warlock (Reason A) [Pending]

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:knifecat:
Sigurd was not a medic, this was blatantly obvious anytime he was called upon to aid in such a manner, his hands always seeming to be too full with too many things that weren't necessary, or turned around and in the wrong place from where he was needed, and mostly, at the end of the day, simply unknowledgable about the things that gave a person life, rather than taking it away.Â
This did not stop him from offering his assistance whenever the opportunity presented itself, eager to help if not so skilled at the learning the things that were truly helpful.Â
But one thing that he could do, this he knew well and this which was capitalized on anytime a mass incident such as this happened, was talking. Mingling and moving about the victims or the affected, making them feel cared for and listened to, and to bring the little light he could to the dim places they found themselves â that was something he had not needed to learn.Â
" - And WHOOMPH - " He threw his hands up into the air and leaned back in his seat atop this little wooden stool, mimicking the press of heat and wind of a desert thousands of miles away; "The sandstorm kicked up out of nowhere, confusing my horse and turning our cart around something wicked. The Aed has never been known for its easy passage, but that day I fear â oh â hm - ??"Â
Sigurd cocked his head at the abrupt approach to where he sat beside a sailor attending heatstroke and a nasty sunburn, listening with dizzy attention to the story that was being told to him, and raised his gaze to find the stormy disposition bearing down upon him as though this man were the sandstorm himself.Â
"Ahh, apologies." Rubbing a hand along the back of his head, Sigurd glanced around at the enclosed space, as though seeming to understand that his voice carried more strongly in such close proximity, whether he willed it or no. "I was simply relaying a venture to this young man â you said your name was William, didn't you? Son of another William, and sailing along the eastern coast? Aha, I knew my memory didn't fail me. Oh, sorry," he added, once more to the new presence, temporarily forgotten in the aside. "I was simply telling a story, and it seems it got away from me."Â
The man doesnât stop talking. The interruption becomes another aside, and if looks could kill he would be dead twice over the moment he had turned away. Elrean did not care about the name of the recipient of the tale (who was, as far as he was concerned, half responsible for the noise in allowing it to continue for so long) or his fatherâs name, or whatever else was being spoken without a care.
All of it was irrelevant to the task at hand.
âHmph. Clearly! You-â Ready to lecture further, the mage notices a particular salve in his arms, or rather, a few of them- that he remembered searching for unsuccessfully only minutes prior. Momentum lost, he stutters. âYou-â
Flustered, now, with irritation that had found itself too baffled to continue, or perhaps finding himself so angry that he could only manifest it as stress. A few more unsuccessful attempts to say something were made, fury building.
âIâve been searching for those!â He snaps, finally, glaring at the other man, who remains recovering from heatstroke and sunburn, as if it were his fault that this situation had occurred, even though he hadnât moved in quite a long time, âBah! Come with me. Wilton has no need of those anymore, and youâre better served delivering them to the correct people than idling away here!â
shut UP dude you sound like my mom!
mages slacking off || aphotic
linhardt has grown wings. Â it's surprisingly easy to, in one strong beat, lift off the ground and reach the clouds. Â they part easily for him and feel similar to walking inside a dense fog, though the water droplets tickle his face warmly each time he bursts through one of these fluffy white shapes.
the sun is warm above them. Â they bask in it, then dive into another cloud, and as they break through it, it soaks them in rainwater, drenching their hair flat to their face and sticking heavily to their wings. Â they begin descending.
linhardt opens his eyes to see professor elrean's scowl.
immediately they close them again, as though they can convince him that he can't wake them at all.
The studentâs eyes open for maybe a moment before closing again. Pretending to sleep? An admission of guilt. Elrean straightens and pinches the bridge of his nose. Gives a deep sigh. What does he remember of this studentâŚ?
Linhardt, right. Prone to sleepiness but not the worst troublemaker in the class- that particular title would sooner belong to those who had already run off.
... Who he will also need to chase after.
Feeling a headache coming along, he repeats, louder, âWake up, now, or youâll be assigned supplementary work to make up for using this time to skip classwork."