#mageandatronach

he shot her a glare both eyes with the same intensity even though they had not been the same. “too little too late for people to start giving a shit now.” he snorted getting up and ignoring the pain in his heels. “i dont need sympathy. and i dont need it from you.” he grumbled gathering his things to leave. this conversation was getting a bit too close for comfort for the mage.

Lielle frowned and stood, moving to place a hand on the man’s shoulder and keep him there. So that had been the wrong way to go about this... whatever this talk was supposed to be. But she wasn’t going to let him walk out because of that. This.. felt important to talk about, so she was going to push for answers.

“Do you make a habit of running from questions?”

The Breton winced. That was not what she’d meant to say. Such a questions was more meant for herself than Lucius. She let go of him and took a step back. Maybe she wouldn’t push; she was obviously bad at this heart-to-heart thing.

"It wasn’t a fucking pot roast, it was a political sche—” Eliza started, cut off with a kiss.

Her eyes widened, taken aback by the actions of the other Breton; silent and still for quite some time. However, before she offered any other sort of response, her hand raised to meet his neck and draw his face back towards hers — giving him a tender kiss with a bit of tongue. The smaller Breton drew back only two or three inches away from the other’s face; her emerald gaze grazing over each and every one of his features before taking a step back.

18 - Pull your muse’s hair. (prompt)

The man was being quite… not annoying, per say, but just… She didn't know what to do with all this wallowing. Sure, she understood, but she could only handle so much negativity.

Not even a day has passed and Icarus could barely stand the moronic miscreants the college, let alone the entirety of Skyrim. Having been chewed out already by both Ancano and that blind Altmeri fool had deteriorated the majority of his patience. Icarus stormed his way towards the library, mumbling Altmeris profanities to himself as he climbed the stone stairway. The Altmer cringed at the sight of the Orsimer librarian. "A blind teacher and a green brute for a librarian..." he mumured under his breath, "High quality magick college my arse." The justiciar lazily tossed his bag on one of the chairs, seating himself in the chair next to it. He shifted his view nervously making sure no one else was two close before pulling out an apprentice level destruction spell book, followed by a expert level conjuration spellbook. Using the expert book as a cover to hide the apprentice book, Icarus glued his eyes onto the destruction book, losing focus on everything surrounding him.

Send me a ▒ and my muse has to kiss yours.

Walking aside her fellow Breton, Eliza listened intently to his anecdotes; remembering several of her own that shared striking similarities. If one listened for no longer than a few moments, they could already draw a safe conclusion on their feelings towards the politics of Daggerfall.

      Eliza, all too familiar with the devastating loneliness brought about by solo traveling, found a significant amount of comfort in not only being in the presence of another, but another that shared her roots. Quite honestly, she had been rather surprised that they hadn’t known each other growing up; considering how close they’d been at around the same time.

      As her attention scattered back to him, Eliza’s eyes trailed over his features — admiring how… homely they’d suddenly became in appearance. Without a scrap of warning, the young woman perched herself upon her toes; an instantaneous, blithe kiss pressed to the flesh of his cheek.