So is Lance gonna teach us how to dye our hair or what? you know, for totally normal disguise reasons. Also, would he ever want to change from blue? I'd be curious to see his natural brown.
still hoping Raf will teach us lockpicking. what other skills could Romanus pick up from companions?
Hadrian could teach you how to whittle. He mostly makes spoons and rustic little figurines, but I imagine him perfecting the art the longer the lessons go on. His hands would cover yours, guiding you patiently. "Careful," he'd murmur beside your ear, "the blade's sharp."
Alessa could teach you how to paint yourself. Your eyes, lips, and how to properly care for your hair. "Apply this oil twice a fortnight, or else t'will turn as rough as sand."
Alain could teach you how to properly taste wine (useless 💀). Of course, were you to accompany him for a walk in the garden, he'd know most of the plants and trees' names. He'd share when the blackbirds returned from their pilgrimage, and describe the way the white storks build their nests. He wouldn't teach you that, however. "I'm not a scholar to have students, sparrow," Alain says, having just explained the reasoning behind crop rotation.Â
Ysabella could teach you all the intricacies of high society. The proper way to hold cutlery, how low you must bow depending on who you're bowing to, the correct way to address those above and below you. She could hold class for hours on how to manage a house's coffers, the magic of numbers, of projections, of hidden clauses in treaties that give you just enough advantage that, if there ever is a finish line, you'll cross it first.Â
The Pirate could teach you how to navigate with nothing but the stars. "If you follow this one." He points at a bright, lonely star. "Polaris. You will never get lost again."
He could also teach you how to measure distances in the immeasurable magnitude of the ocean, where the landscape constantly shifts with the tides and no landmarks mark the miles crossed.Â
Neia could teach you, to put it frankly, torture techniques. How to brute force a conversation so that the person gives you exactly what you want. She could teach you how to detect a lie by the slight shift of the gaze and the psychological pressure of a prolonged, unblinking stare. She could speak of the way the strongest men sang when deprived of sleep, and the most cunning women broke when locked alone for seven moons. "You don't need to draw blood, sweetling," she'd say, "for most, the simple threat of pain is enough."
Lance could teach you how to play the lyre. "Hold the arm here," he'd say, guiding your left hand to the wooden frame opposite you. "And lay this hand on the strings."
He'd smile as you plucked your first, out-of-tune notes. "It is not bad for a first time, mercenary," he'd lie after you cringed at the sound.Â
Vallen could teach you... how to press-in flowers so that your notebooks could be pretty and perfumed. She could teach you all about herbs and spices, and how they help you cure headaches, relieve pains, swellings, and even coughs. She'd show you how to grind a plant's roots to turn them into a tea. "To make people feel better!" Vallen would smile brightly, then lean in and whisper. "But don't drink it yourself."
Rafael could teach you how to open locks, whether or not you have a key. "No, no, on the left side," his aggravated voice makes you grind your teeth.Â
"You got another left I don't know about?" He grabs your wrist and jerks it. The lockpick slots to the side, fitting perfectly into the keyway. "There."
"Oh." You wiggle it, finding the first binding pin. It gives way a little. "This is easy."
Rafael steps back. "I did it for ya."
"You helped but a little." Boldened, you press in, turning your other lockpick—
Rafael's sigh feels like a personal insult. "Bloody idiot."
