Iris wrote:-Errant Milask, Sleepy Sheep-
The feel of writing, the weighted movements and the flow of thoughts that were written down did not distract Errant as the parchment before him slowly filled with the reflections around him, even as the sound of an argument cut across the general merriment and judging by the sound it was the noble; Seams. A smile played on the teen's face at the irony, both the surname as well as the situation that was figuratively before him, for the this child of nobility was an apprentice in the art of tailoring and this day he reminded how noble he had been; standing up for the weak -so to speak- and cried out against the injustice of an unfortunate soul. Truly a noble deed.
As the shouting died down Errant found the younger lad come before him, or to be more precise he chose to sit with him. From a glance the lad seemed to be fuming, most probable about the person who set him off, from the words Zephrin had shouted the perpetrator had been Baldemar the only apprentice miner who would be joining them on the journey.
"And thus the prince did defend the soul home he met, a companion whom he held true. Noble and just he did defy the evil before him for the sake of his friend." Errant smiled quoting from an old fairy tale called A Companion's Heart, it was one that wasn't often told as there were few battles to retain a young one's mind, rather it described the virtue of companionship and told of words that can bring desolation.
"So tell me Mi'lord, what bother's thee upon such a fine evening? Is it the smell of wine, the taste of an exotic meal or is it the company of such well mannered guests?" The smile this time was one of noticeable sarcasm partly aimed at lightening the mood... and partly for his own amusement as he put his quill down.
"Oh right, I forgot. You're all cowards, hiding away in your perfect little worlds with a family that loves you, masters that care for you. You all make me sick, especially you Baldemar. You know, I actually wouldn't have minded if you came to me, asking for me to mend your torn blue shirt even if it is merely a piece of filth covering up your even filthier body. What ARE you compensating for?..."
MQuinny1234 wrote:Orcus hesitated. He was never entirely sure about how to answer this stuff, generally people didn't ask. So long as the Spooks were concerned, if you were standing, that's fine, if you weren't, get up. Tests. He said simply, Frost had made him go over everything he'd learnt in the last eight years, he'd mainly just stood in front of him and recited notes all day. Training. Gaius had gone over all the foundations of everything he'd taught Orcus, deciding that if the boy knew the framework well enough, it should be enough to let him survive against anything he came across on his travels to the Dawn Guild. He'd then beaten the crap out of him each time Orcus failed to block against an untraditional move or irregular step. His skin at the moment tended to blend in rather nicely with the black clothes, which was one of the reasons Orcus had the hood up. God, his jaw hurt, the only reason the black eyes weren't noticable was because they merged with the bags under them. Technicalities... He drifted off a little there. Minor details about city life and how to act on his own. Very...emphasised points. His arm twinged slightly. His expression remained blank. Like stone.
He jumped slightly at Zephrin's sudden shout, jerked from his thoughts. The arm on his lap immediately twitching up to his staff, but that was all, he immediately brought himself under control, and as if like clockwork, turned to look at the commotion. Someone else may have smirked slightly at Zeph's speech, they may have expected Orcus to chuckle a little at the bitter humour, but he just stared emotionlessly at him, apart from when Zeph glanced towards them and his face seemed, despite logic, lock down even more. Once Zeph was done, he turned back to Gregory, now returned to his normal "fortress-of-doom" impenetrableness. Does he mean...Ari...annah? He asked, searching for the unfamiliar name for the unusual girl. He'd never noticed or heard of her being treated badly before, although he'd expected some minor bullying of course, name-calling and the like. Excusing his natural introversion, he still thought he'd have heard about something of the level Zephrim seemed to imply. Frost was always telling him to keep an eye on and a working knowledge of the community. They spent two hours a week going over what was going on in the village, birthdays, deaths, etc. I should have known of anything serious.
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