#astrum novaesson

☾ ༒︎ ༄ . astrum novaesson

. It was quite the surprise to him, at first. Quite the surprise indeed when Astrum looked up and caught your gentle eyes trailing over his face. 

     Now, he had been stared at before, gawked at, whispered about and been the topic of conspirital murmurs. But, when he caught your eyes looking at him with a certain softness he had never once seen directed at him, and then you smiled?

     He panicked.

     To see that soft look directed toward him? For that sweet smile to touch your lips after looking at his own face? He chokes on air a little bit, but masks it with a cough. 

     “...These books are dusty.” He comments, trying to act as if the dust of the ancient library was the reason he coughed and not his heart giving a strange twist. You chuckle a bit and he swears he can feel a slight warmth at the tips of his ears. He waits for a moment, to not make it too obvious, and then stands, snapping his book shut. A few students reading at a table on the other side of the room jolt a bit, then glance over, shrug, and go back to their writing reports.

     “Are you alright, Astru-” You begin to say.

    “Quite fine. I’ll be borrowing this book, please make sure to record that in your log. Thank you.” He gives a quick bow before he grabs his long black coat and pulls it on, striding out into the hall. His boots click against the stone floor with each step he takes away from that room. Just the sound of your voice had made his long, pointed ears twitch and his tail flick behind him involuntarily despite his best attempts to will the wild appendage under control.

     ‘Dear stars above, you might kill an immortal man.’

☾ ༒︎ ༄ . estrella agostaro

. Estrella sat in the corner of the library, flipping through old books on divination, clicking her tongue as she struggled to find the specific passage on using the reflection of water to- Oh dammit, if she remembered what the reflection of water was supposed to do, she wouldn’t be looking for the passage on it! She sighed, looking up to ask her favorite librarian -you- for their help only to find your eyes already meeting her's. “Oh, were you staring, darling?” Estrella teases, her white hair spilling over her shoulder as she leans her elbows on the table, chin resting on her intertwined fingers. A familiar, mischievous smile starts to pull at her lips as she looks at you. “You sighed fourteen times since you sat down, I was about to ask if you needed help.” You say simply, unaffected by her teases. Or maybe just oblivious to her playfulness. “Aww, you pay that much attention to me to count all my sighs?” She tilts her head, the sly smirk now a full smile. “I’m flattered, sweetie. Now, is that offer for help still open?” Estrella pats the seat next to her and soon, you’re sitting right beside her, your coat draped over the back of your chair and a furrow in your brows as you look for the passage with her.  ‘You’re so cute when you’re focusing.’ She thinks to herself, musing about that adorable little expression of yours when you glance up to her. “You’re staring, Estrella. But thank you.” You say with a raised brow as you glance to her and heat rises in her cheeks, casting her fair skin with a shade of pink you haven’t seen before.  She had been caught staring and had spoken aloud? Oh, how embarassing. Then she sees a slightly teasing glint in your eye and she can’t help the smile that creeps back onto her face. Now it’s even at least.

☾ ༒︎ ༄ . james taurus

. “Hm, that’s a bad one, isn’t it?” James says, holding the griffin’s paw in his hands as he kneels in the dirt of the barn. The long, white bandage he wraps around the wounded paw has already been smudged with dirt, but thankfully only on the edge, away from the wound.     The griffin lets out a low noise like a purr and nuzzles its head against Jame’s cheek, making him chuckle. He reaches a hand up and ruffles its feathers. “Steady, girl.” He murmurs as he refocuses on wrapping the bandage. You lean against the stable wall, having been passing him the veterinary supplies as he worked, but as you look at him kneeling in the ground, your mind starts to wander. Your gaze traces over his curly, dark hair, his tanned skin riddled with scars, his vest, which seems to fit him extremely well… “Can you pass me the clasp?” James asks as he finishes wrapping the bandage, holding it in place with one hand whil ethe other keeps the paw lifted. It’s silent. “Uhm… It’s small and silver, kind of an ‘I’ shape?” He tries to explain, assuming you’re just having trouble finding it.  Silence again. He turns back and finds your gaze just on him, zoned out. He tilts his head, confused for a moment. As soon as he makes that little bit of movement, you snap out of it and back into reality.  “Ah, the what? Sorry-” You kneel as well, looking through the box of supplies. “The clasp to keep the bandage in place, the large one.” “Right.” It’s quiet for only a half second before you fish the clasp out and move to put it on the bandage, keeping it in place. As soon as it’s held in place, he gently lets go of the paw and dusts off his pants as the griffin purrs again. He looks to you and you two lock eyes, his large, brown eyes meeting yours as his brows furrow. “Are you feeling alright?” He asks, concern creeping into his voice. “If there’s something on your mind, I’m a good listener.” You shake your head with a small smile. And he visibly relaxes, the slight worry in his face changing back into that gentle look you’ve start to recognize as his most common expression. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” You assure and he nods in turn, patting your hand resting on your thigh before he stands and stretches. You can’t help but start to stare again as his muscles slightly flex and he lets out a low rumble of satisfaction. Then he looks down, catches you staring again, and raises a brow. “That’s twice now. Are you sure you’re alright? Here, let’s go inside. We can get some coffee from the lounge and you can tell me what’s got you bothered.” He says with that same look he gives Lani, his daughter, when he’s being firm with her. But, below that look of sternness, you can still see that hint of concern that shows he’s actually worried for you. ...Yeah, you're not getting out of this one easily.

☾ ༒︎ ༄ . michiko hisakawa

. “So that’s how the Cyprinus Empress, well, you know the Cyprinus, right? Who am I kidding, of course you do. Anyways, so that’s how the Cyprinus Empress was able to heal an entire group of people with her magic- not even Deital, but Innateblood magic!” Michiko said, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose as she spoke. Her hands gestured in a very animated fashion as she rambled on about yet another history topic, specifically a story regarding a group of Merfolk. “Mhmm.” “See, and you obviously know that Innateblood magic isn’t very powerful at all, so everyone was like, ‘How did she do that?!”and so, Empress Kishiko Miuna was then the topic of tons of conspiracies.” “Mhmm.” “See, some people thought that she actually was using Deital Magic, and just lying about it, which made a few Aquae Cyprinus –The Cyprinus people still in the sea and not on land– incredibly wary of her. But-but! Others thought she actually swam down to the bottom of the seas to learn about secret techniques from the Blackfins. Which, looking back on records-” Michiko finally looked up from her book, only to catch you just staring, your chin resting in your palm and your elbow propped on the table. She almost imemdiately completely flushes, her dark skin turning a bit darker around her cheeks as her ocean blue eyes widen. “I’ve been rambling, haven’t I? Oh gods, I must have been boring you, oh, I’m so sorry! You should have said something, I don’t want to bother you-” Michiko says, rambling about her rambling. She grabs your hands over the table and squeezes them slightly, a look of guilt in her eyes. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that not everyone finds my stories interesting, I’m so sorry-” “-No, no, it’s fine!” You interrupt her and shake your head, smiling a bit. “Don’t apologize at all! I actually was quite enjoying the story, I just got distracted for a moment.” She visibly relaxes at your words, letting out a sigh before she asks tentatively, glancing to her hands in yours. “So… my rambling wasn’t bothering you?” “Not at all. I found it incredibly interesting.” You squeeze her hands in turn and a smile, bright and happy, appears on her face. She quickly lets go of your hands and opens back up her book that had shut, finger tracing the page as she looked for her place. “Ah-! Where was I then? Oh yes, so- The Blackfins actually may have taught Kishiko Miuna about Innateblood magic and its uses in healing because according to the records…”

☾ ༒︎ ༄ . hawthorne soleil

. Hm.  His sunflower is wilting again. Hawthorne hums as he looks over the petals, the stem, the leaves, the entire plant, trying to figure out the issue. Realizing the issue lays within the lack of sunlight since it’s been snowstorms for a week straight now, he sighs and gently hovers his hands over the sunflowers petals, willing his innateblood sun magic to flow through his hands and into the plant, revitalizing it. Then he feels it. Eyes on him. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t look up, no. He just continues his magic. He feels warmth flooding his veins, the kind of warmth one feels from lying in the sun on the grass on a warm summer afternoon. Not sweltering heat, but comfortable. Still he feels the gaze on him. Still he does not move. Perhaps they are judging him for his use of magic on his plants instead of just being able to let it mend with time and care. After all, as the professor of magical botany, he should be able to take care of it without magic. However, if this person were to think that, they would be a fool since there’s no possible way he could naturally give his plant sunlight because of this damend snowy landscape. Hm. After a long while, his voice, calm and slightly sharp cuts through the air. "You’ve been staring for a while. Need something?” “Nooo, just was watching your magic work! Ooh- actually I did need something, do you know where I can find…” Oh, thank the benevolent gods that watch over this world. It’s you. The sound of your voice puts him at ease, thankful it’s not some student spying on him for whatever reason. You always did have a nice voice to him. Maybe it was just how happy you sounded? Your voice really was no more unique than anyone elses… Perhaps it was the inflection of your words- or your joyful tone specifically-... “…thorne? Hawthorne!” Your voice snaps through his thoughts and he glances back to you. “...Sorry. I was thinking.” “It’s okay, I was wondering if you had one of the books I'm looking for? It’s ‘The Mystic Flora of Ethrea, Volume 6.’ Actually, what were you thinking about?” You speak somewhat quickly, your boundless energy evident and quite contrasting with his own stoicism and calm. “You.” You pause and a slight bit of warmth appears in your cheeks at his straightforwardness, or, rather his bluntness. He hums a bit and then glances to a table to hsi right, plants covering the surface in all manners of pots and containers. Though, that’s to be expected in the greenhouse. Following his gaze you see him looking to the book you mentioned needing to get. You grab it and dust off the stray clumps of dirt which had found their way from his garden pots onto the book. “Sorry for the dirt.” “It’s okay! No worries at all! I’ll be heading back to the library now but uhm- I hope your magic gardening thingie goes well. Bye, Hawthorne!” You give a small wave goodbye as you leave and he watches you go, his expression still never changing from it’s emotionless look. But, his thoughts of you continue, probably not to stop any time soon.

☾ ༒︎ ༄ . macchiat grande

. “Go in, get the book, get out. Go in, get the book, get out.” You repeat the words Estrella had told you over and over in your mind. You two had been chatting earlier when she stopped by to look for a book on water in divination, and as soon as you mentioned that you had to pick up a book from one ‘Professor Macchiat Grande’, her expression soured. “Oh fates, that man?! Eugh, he’s an absolute insufferable, egotistical bother that just loves to get on my nerves whenever he can.” Estrella had said, leaning her back on the book counter you worked at, groaning dramatically. “I swear, he’s so strange! I mean, his name is literally coffee! What kind of weird-” She had paused then, seeing your expression of befuddlement and shook her head. “Sorry, dear, I just cannot stand him for the life of me. For your sake, I would advise just to go in, get the book, and get out.” So that’s what you were doing. Going in, getting the book, and getting out. That’s all you had time for anyway. Plus, you’d like to think that you’re pretty good when it comes to getting a task done with no detours. I mean nothing's going to possibly distract you- “Yes, and that’s exactly why we CANNOT let the- No- Are you even listening?! I swear on everything in this forsaken realm-!” You froze in your path up the stairs to the tower where the Potions class and its professor, Macchiat, were. After a moment to process whatever the abyss that was, you continued up the steps. But as you continued, so did the yelling. “You can’t pull the age card on me, I am over two hundred damned years old! If you think that you can try…!”

…What? 

How many years old?!

Finally, you get to the door which you presume Macchiat’s behind, the large, oak door slightly ajar, letting you peek your head in. In the middle of the room,  pacing back and forth, is a man with short, brown hair, a few blonde streaks littering it. Or… maybe those are slightly grey? Either way, his hair is disheveled and halfway brushed back, and there are dark circles under his grey eyes.   This man looks like he has not slept in at least a week, and you can tell that just might be true from the way that he slightly stumbles as he turns on his heel to continue his pacing. Macchiat grips a stone inscribed with blue, glowing runes, a ‘Sending Stone’ as you’ve recently learned, his brows furrowing as a more muffled voice, deep and smooth, emanates from it. “... need to calm down. It is not… …capable… …handle it on their own…” “It would be a damned death mission! If you genuinely think I’ll send my students to the forest -which multiple hunters have been killed in– just to gather their own ingredients, you’ve lost your mind!” “Indeed, it would be… …beneficial, to say… …exactly why they should…-” “No, absolutely not! I am not killing my students just so you can save expenses on ingredients! If the budget is truly in so dire a situation that you cannot spare the Aurum to pay for a few leaves and items, then I’ll gather them my own damned self!” Macchiat slams the sending stone on his desk, the glow fading away as he braces on the desk and sighs.  You can’t help but continue to watch, baffled by the display you just saw. You had heard that low voice only once before, and it was the Headmaster’s. To imagine that this professor would speak- no, not speak- yell at the Headmaster in such a manner was baffling to you. Silence falls for a moment, and then Macchiat's voice, tired and weary, speaks up, his eyes not moving from where he stares at the Sending Stone. “Staring is rude, you know. I’d much rather you come in and sit down for a cup of coffee than gawk from the door.” He looks up, his grey eyes meeting yours, and you comply, slipping into the room and giving a small bow of apology. “Sorry, you just seemed occupied.” You say, a bit embarrassed at your lack of manners. “You heard the yelling then? Messy business, all that. Sorry, I don’t commonly lose my temper like that. Anywho, come sit! I’ll make you a quick brew-” A facade of an easygoing man falls into place as he moves to a counter in the corner of the room. “I don’t need any potions, but thank you.” You quickly say, a bit intimidated by whatever strange brew he might offer you. “I just came for a book-” “I was offering you a cup of coffee, friend. Not a potion.” He laughs a bit as he soon returns with a cup of coffee and passes it to you. “Now, what book was that? I think I have about thirty of the libraries that have gotten mixed with my personal collection, so… It might be a moment.” “Oh, it was a book called ‘19-” You began, then saw a spark of recognition in his tired eyes. “Ah! I know just the one!” “So you know where it is?” You ask, surprised at how quickly he recognized it. Apparently there weren’t many books with 19 in the title. “Haha! ...No. Care to help me look through the shelf?” He grins and gestures to a towering shelf filled with all sorts of books, scrolls, and journals. You sigh and stand, taking a sip of your coffee which is surprisingly pretty good. After a small nod from you, he moves to the shelf and pulls out a ladder. “Perfect! Should only take us… what? Three or more hours?”

Oh Gods… You’ll be here a while.