mortevatem:

   _{Me? “No, thanks.“ He quickly wanted to scurry back to his dorm. His canaries were waiting on their dinner, after all.}

          _{…Isn’t that the guy who ran into that girl, anyway?}

 _{…Isn’t that the formal-jogger again? He looked anxious to run off again. Sitting up from the dorm couches, Vaan held out a controller to him, regardless.}

_{“C’mon! One game never hurt anyone.”}

indritjis:

  ✠ “Sounds dangerous," he commented, thumbing his chin thoughtfully. Then again, Vaan clearly wasn’t from this area, so right now, anything to him might be ‘too far off to tell’. Ingus looked back at him and nodded, a reassuring smile plastered on his face. “Let’s just keep our guards up, aye?”

  The young knight opened his satchel and began to sift through the contents, mumbling an audible ‘excuse me’ at the young Dalmascan. When he had failed to find what he was looking for, he looked up at Vaan, eyes knit in disappointment. “I’m afraid I’ve no spare maps with me…”

        _{Dangerous… it was a substantial size, but even if it had been the size of a hare, supposed he should hold some caution, at least more than usual, for the  sake of his own newness with the area. Watching Ingus rummage through his bag’s contents, his mind wandered to the temptation of what value the loot from it could hold in his own land.}

_{“That’s a shame…”}

                             _{Which it was.}

       _{Only, he had already made up his mind to pursue the creature. Vaan let out a laugh before flashing a smile at the other, “I’ll just have to use my sense of direction then.”}

rosannean:

  Clearly, the words that the noble spoke had rung
  true — for he severely doubted if the other would
  react in a manner such as this, were he truly as
  innocent as he attempted to claim. he was blund-
  ering, uncertain of how to defend himself against
  a claim that been, more or less, a bullseye. Lips
  would purse, and Virion’s gaze would quickly flit
  downwards, so as to take in the rest of the other
  male’s appearance. He wasn’t dressed like any
  of the other citizens currently occupying the busy
  market — moreover, he did not look like a denizen
  of Valm at all. Perhaps that would explain it, then?
  He was stranded, and thus stooped as low as
  thievery to earn attention — or money?

  It was a bit of a stretch, to say the least; but the
  elder had nothing else to go off of at the moment.

        ” ᴛʜᴇ time for excuses has long since passed,
             I fear — ᴀɴᴅ I’d have vastly preferred to hear
           the truth fall from your lips, anyway. ”

  With that, the grip he had upon the others’ wrist is
  diminished, and the offending hand is released. A
  bold move, to be sure — almost as though he was
  certain the boy-thief would not immediately run.

  Even if he did, Virion would likely catch him.

     ” sᴏ, speak the truth to me. ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ not of Rosanne,
      are you, boy? sᴜʀᴇʟʏ you did not travel here solely
        to attempt to pick a Duke’s pockets —. ”

                     _{Did he say Duke? The day had frankly gone from
                     bad to worse in all of a few moments. Perhaps the
                     obviously wealthy had not been the best targets.}

                                          _{A bit of shock left Vaan as the nobility had released
                                          his arm. He used one hand to clasp the other’s wrist
                                          defensively and took a step back. Had he truly been
                                          that trusting of him not to flee? Or perhaps, he wasn’t   
                                          interested in turning him in, after all? Regardless, his
                                          prying  about  Vaan’s  general  intentions  seemed to
                                          demand  an  answer.  One  which  actually,  after the
                                          other’s protests, might be better given truthfully. He
                                          had  seen  through  Vaan’s  poor  attempts  before,
                                          anyways. No use in attempting to hide his intentions.}

                _{“The truth is that I’m on my way to look
                into some rumors of a valuable west of
                here. I  was  just  passing  through and
                needed  something  to  get  by.”}

                                _{Thinking about it, that did sound rather awful to hear aloud.}

                                                        _{“Just to get to the next town, I mean.
                                                         My  loot  from  hunting  hasn’t  been
                                                         that  great  out  here,  and  ya  know
                                                         how  it  can  be…”}

        _{Reminding himself of the other’s position,
        however,  Vaan  considered  the  chance
        that the other didn’t know. The thief could
        only  hope  once  again,  but  certain  past
        encounters with officials left him doubtful.}

                        _{“Not that it changes things for you, I guess.
                          Being  a  D u k e,  aren’t  ya  gonna  have
                          someone arrest me or something?”}

mortevatem:

   _{”Rebel against the fate that descends.”}

          _{Peering over to view the other’s book, seemingly one supportive of romantic ideals, Vaan responded, “You can try, but if it’s really fate, is it even possible to rebel against it?"}  

mortevatem:

xanomaly:

         _{Perhaps it had been something of her fault—attention had been paid but her mind had yet wandered into unbidden territory without her express consent and, at times, it was difficult to track just where her mind was going. To what realms imaginings were disappearing off to and even as she walked across the campus which was still so new to her, arms laden down with her canvases that she had brought for the sake of saving some money, if not all that much. And to that end, perhaps it was her fault.}

                                    _{But then—she had looked
                                    up as she heard the sound
                                    of wheels scraping against
                                    pavement. By that time, it
                                    had been too late, though.}

                  _{The crash itself did not hurt—not terribly, anyways. No, it was mostly the impact which jarred her, which caused pain to race up her spine as she fell to the ground, but her mind did long linger on the discomfort for very long. How could it, when she could hear her canvases falling to the ground? Clattering and scattering and some breaking because bodies had collided with them in between and she was not quite sure if it was panic that filled her throat, or a sense of hopelessness.}

                                             _{Still there was that horrible, terrible sense of hope that maybe they were not as ruined as she thought, that maybe most of the canvases were okay, but that hope was dashed the moment she opened her eyes. For how could she keep up that hope when she saw wooden frames broken, some splintering, the untouched, stretched fabric torn on some of them. Yes, there were some that remained alright but—}

                           _{Most of them were g o n e, and probably could never be restored ever again. Certainly not the one which had been practically stabbed upon the young man’s hand, the one who had run into her on his—skateboard? A longboard, most likely, considering its size, but that was not what truly mattered at that moment and while she was not angry she felt incredible disappointment.}

                                                      _{( Yes, disappointment in herself—
                                                      and she supposed, this young man. )}

         _{Slowly, she began to retrieve the canvases once more, piling the ones which she could reach carefully in front of her, as if that would stop them from being any more damaged. And a shadow fell upon her and she peered up at the man with sandy blond hair who looked a cross between apologetic and sheepish and her fingers dragged lightly over the rough texture of a mostly unharmed canvas, as if trying to draw comfort from it. Palms itched for a brush, a pencil, a piece of charcoal—}

                                    _{Art was her reprieve in stressful situations.}

                                                               _{”—It’s… okay.”}

                                             _{( It wasn’t. )}

   _{He was late. A curse or a blessing, he had no idea, honestly. Freshman orientation, and he’d fussed for too long about rolling in his bed sheets with head turning to and fro. Several knocks of the snooze alarm later had left him frazzled and in a rush to make the several block dash that would lead from his apartment dorm to the campus grounds. Casually jogging along had allowed him to see the situation as it happened.}

   _{A longboard, a girl, a boy with headphones playing too loudly, a bunch of canvas. All were included in the collision, and just as he’d witnessed it, the two were left to their own devices with retrieving the damaged squares from the ground. Hands reached up, and Aster found himself speeding up as he pulled his own headphones from the crown of his head to rest around his neck. He missed being able to offer her a hand up, but those who had been right there had neglected to offer at all, so he figured he wasn’t too much of a bad person.}

   _{He didn’t normally like to help people, though.
   People dug their spines into others and one
   day they dug themselves so far in that removal
   was f a t a l.}

   _{His shoes stopped just behind her, however, as he knelt down and pulled at a few of the canvas squares that the young woman had neglected to see fall just short of her ankles. The white fabric was now not so white, some torn or stained, and others held damage to the wooden frames that kept them uniform and taut. As he extended them back out to the stranger, though, he was captivated, just for a moment, on the shade of her hair.}

                                         _{Like a canary, such a vibrant shade of blonde
                                         she was! He’d always had a soft spot for birds,
                                         though, while others found them annoying…}

   _{”… Here. See ya.“ Not that he intended those last words, though, as the moment he was relinquished of his duty as her helper, his feet carried his body onward and into the building. He’d rather have spoken up, but obviously, as a boy who came to school in September wearing a white button down with the sleeves rolled up, a black and red sweater vest, not even to mention the slacks, it was quite obvious where he stood against those athletic types. He’d just adjust the scarf around his neck, dip his chin back into the vermilion shelter, and act as if it didn’t matter.}

   _{[ It definitely did, though.]}

         _{What reprimand he had expected was nonexistent. Rather, the girl kneeling before him had given him reassurance that everything was fine. It almost made him feel guiltier about the collision. He could see the damage on the hemline of her previously all white dress. Seeing the stains from the nearby dirt and grass, he looked to his own apparel, realizing that his grimy tank and jeans were also suffering. However, he lacked enough concern to return to the dorm and change.}

                           _{Outwardly p a s s i v e, as if
                           no collision had happened,
                           or  like  the  canvases  she  
                           had  so  delicately  collected
                           were unchanged, as if Vaan
                           hadn’t just r u i n e d them.}

        _{Noticing the girl’s fingers gripping the edge of the canvas in her hands, Vaan could sense her hint of anxiety. The blonde was probably just being polite… At this point, what was there to do anyway, besides acquire replacement supplies? That’s how I could fix this mess. Surely some of the art rooms had unused canvases he could get for her.Before mentioning this, though, a strangely formally-attired young man interceded, jogging, onto the scene to hand more of the scattered squares to the artist.}

                                                         _{Some  jogger,  swooping  in  from
                                                         the sidelines to collect remnants
                                                         of  the  scattered  canvas,  as  if
                                                         taking  break  in  his  schedule  to
                                                         merely lend aid, then j o g  away.}

         _{Why the hurry? – Wait. Damn it. The orientation – and he had already been late… Pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time, he blurted to the girl before giving her a chance to reply, “Sorry again! I gotta go, but I totally owe you and will pay you back!” – Someday.}

         _{He would have to make a mental note to remember that promise. Perhaps after orientation he could find some around, should he recall the need to search for them…}

         _{Sprinting in the same direction as the formal runner, Vaan began toward the campus auditorium to sneak through one of the side doors. Scanning the dim room, he hovered near an empty space on the shoulder, noticing the outline of the jogger also entering the other side of the room as the speaker before them droned on about some student honor code. This would only get worse. Resigning to the imminent fact that his boredom would make his mind wander anyways, the long boarder  prepared himself for the long spiel of student expectations and school history, all of which burdening the weight of his eyelids to be heavier and heavier.} 

mortevatem:

    _{“Nah. I just read a lot.”}

  _{“Huh,” Interesting concept… No wonder the guy knew so much…}

mortevatem:

   _{”That’s a melody for you. Harmonies make us, as humans, happier. That’s why lullabies and bard songs are the true basis of storytelling.”}

   _{“Huh, you sure know a lot about this stuff. All that may be true, I guess. Did you study music theory or something?”}

mortevatem:

   _{”Holding notes and tone takes practice, regulation… It’s not easy to sing well.”}

     _{"I guess I didn’t think of that – but even if you can’t sing well it can still have a way of lifting your spirits.“}

mortevatem:

   _{… I don’t find it that liberating… “… I find it more disciplining…”}

     _{Disciplining? “…how is that?”}

mortevatem:

   _{Already ambling off to deal with unwanted pests, Ace had entirely missed the strange looks that he was being given for his choice in weaponry. Wouldn’t be the first time, though, he thought as it was mentioned, that somebody underestimated the strength of a little magic and some ordinary objects. Otherwise, step after step went behind the trail, to find it eventually underneath the slight gap that formed under every doorway.}

   _{”Uh… Yeah.“ A quick narrowing of his brows indicated that that was very well his intentions. It was a flan, a monster that controlled magical properties, something that disrupted the very balance of the structure of a magical academy. How could he not utilize his full strength to deal with it? Fingers twirled the flat sliver from knuckle to knuckle with ease, all in anticipation for what he was all too used to. A brief smirk, a less than comfortable exhale, everything served as a reminder: Killing was what he was familiar with.}

   _{”Is there a problem with that?”}

          _{A tad dumbfounded at the fact that his teasing had been on point, to the extent that he had apparently missed something obvious to Ace, Vaan considered the comedic image of the dealer throwing printed paper at the flan. At least, the little guy would probably get away from imminent death. Maybe a few paper cuts wouldn’t be quite so terrible.}

          _{Though, the determination of the other to destroy the thing with cards was concerning in itself. The malice that the other held for something less than a foot tall was a tad excessive, regardless of whatever danger he felt it may pose. Good day to be a hume…}

          _{Vaan slowed from his brisk pace to a casual walk, less alarmed about the monster’s welfare, until he had caught up to the other at the doorway. As for his concern over Ace’s methods, Vaan retired the majority of it.}

          _{“It… just doesn’t seem… very… effective, is all.”}