Winston Von Loot

“Hi do you know how to gain access to the archives in the Academy. Thanks.”

-W

((@swiftfootedrouge ))

Mal, who had been engrossed in a book—and enshrouded in a mist of purple—, started when she saw the Snowfluff, causing the sleeping Vegabloom on her lap to scamper away. She huffed a sigh of annoyance, paying the small Snowfluff in a few leaves of a pine tree she was able to summon in her palm. The rest of the leaves fell to the ground as she shook the lingering magic away, but a small deposit stayed, sticking close to her palms.

Mal sighed. She’d read the first two words and her mind was already clouded with a headache. Was no one teaching these students how to write?!

But Mal wasn’t one to ignore fan mail. She thanked a Batterbot with mismatched metal as it handed her a pencil and took a fresh piece of paper from the coffee table in front of her. Fresh paper was always a staple in her letter writing.

“To, W,

Well, It all depends on what you can offer me. Some information, perhaps? A book you can steal on my behalf? Or perhaps—“

But Mal crossed out those last two words. Something stopped him from writing “Or perhaps your hatred for the Puppet Master and the Academy would be enough.” A great something held his arm back, dancing around him like stardust in the night sky. It was… disorienting. But before Mal could look up to even see the force, the great something slinked away again, back to the corners. Mal shook his head.

“Or perhaps, our views just align. A shared enemy with an interesting solution. All this is to say, yes. I do. You’ll find notes in my study for more details. I trust you know where the Plant wing is?

That was the note Winston left for Val as he walked across the academy hallways, finding his way to the plant wing. Truth be told… he hasn’t really been to this part of the academy often. His classes were in other wings.

At the end of the corridor sat a large hall, octagonal in shape and bearing much of the same decor. However, the trellises were replaced by actual tapestries, adorning the spots of the white wall where doors weren’t. Carefully embedded into the wall of white stone were more pine doors, each labelled with what they lead to.

In the centermost side of the octagon was a particularly tall door, glass flowers and leaves decorating the wood, resting on thin golden stems. A plate in the centre of the door read “PROF. M.J. JUNIPER”, the text slightly scuffed as if someone had once tried to change it. This was Mal’s office.

Mal’s office was… well, it was nothing short of beautifully elegant. Green carpet stretched out like moss, broken only by pine furniture. A sofa rested against one wall, an armchair next to it, making an L shape around a fireplace. A pine desk sat at the back of the room, tall stained glass windows allowing colourful sunbeams to dance over the smooth surface. Two chairs sat in front of the desk, clearly for meetings, and a well-upholstered desk chair rested behind it, thick green velvet coating its cushions. The walls at first seemed just to be wood panelled, but upon closer inspection, it was lined with actual bark. It was beginning to chip without Mal’s magic, stray bark crunching underfoot. Paintings and photos adorned the space where ivy didnt occupy, and a cork board decorated the space next to Mal’s desk. The desk itself?

In a way, the gold and the marble reminded him of his own home. It gave a sense of wealth and power, which the academy, from his perspective, gave a lot of.

Finding Mal’s office was easy. Thankfully. He opened the doors, finding a room that was completely different from the elegant hallways he was just in.

“What in the…” was Winston’s first reaction. This was the office of an academy teacher? This was actually his first time entering a teacher’s office so… he didn’t have any expectations.

“Hi do you know how to gain access to the archives in the Academy. Thanks.”

-W

((@swiftfootedrouge ))

Mal, who had been engrossed in a book—and enshrouded in a mist of purple—, started when she saw the Snowfluff, causing the sleeping Vegabloom on her lap to scamper away. She huffed a sigh of annoyance, paying the small Snowfluff in a few leaves of a pine tree she was able to summon in her palm. The rest of the leaves fell to the ground as she shook the lingering magic away, but a small deposit stayed, sticking close to her palms.

Mal sighed. She’d read the first two words and her mind was already clouded with a headache. Was no one teaching these students how to write?!

But Mal wasn’t one to ignore fan mail. She thanked a Batterbot with mismatched metal as it handed her a pencil and took a fresh piece of paper from the coffee table in front of her. Fresh paper was always a staple in her letter writing.

“To, W,

Well, It all depends on what you can offer me. Some information, perhaps? A book you can steal on my behalf? Or perhaps—“

But Mal crossed out those last two words. Something stopped him from writing “Or perhaps your hatred for the Puppet Master and the Academy would be enough.” A great something held his arm back, dancing around him like stardust in the night sky. It was… disorienting. But before Mal could look up to even see the force, the great something slinked away again, back to the corners. Mal shook his head.

“Or perhaps, our views just align. A shared enemy with an interesting solution. All this is to say, yes. I do. You’ll find notes in my study for more details. I trust you know where the Plant wing is?

That was the note Winston left for Val as he walked across the academy hallways, finding his way to the plant wing. Truth be told… he hasn’t really been to this part of the academy often. His classes were in other wings.