[St Grumbles] Plumb Festive, Bang Guttered

Drunk double dating FTW. Athrym, Daalton, Elisora, and Nauleth-style.

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Brunnhold's college town, located inside the university grounds.

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Nauleth Siordanti
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: Magus in the Making
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Fri Jun 29, 2018 3:17 pm

3rd of Loshis, 2718
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The young Siordanti fussed at himself in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time that evening, acutely aware of his deplorable state of ineptitude with a cravat, with any form of fashion more complicated than a sock. Deft, freckled fingers attempted to create some artful appearance from the bright sea-green accessory that stood out boldly against the cream of his well-tailored shirt and the seasonally-appropriate charcoal of his vest and suit,

"Ah, Lady bless it, it's clocking raining anyway." Hissed Nauleth at his reflection, smirking lopsidedly in defeat before he turned and made his way out of his room and downstairs, pausing only to slip into his coat and snatch an umbrella, the rain just enough to be called a dampening drizzle. Setting on the small table near the door was a box wrapped in wax paper—a lovely but simple thistle corsage, purchased by Henry their housekeeper just a few houses before. He was a clever chap, passive or not, and the junior professor smiled at the older man's careful attention to his needs before he stepped out the front door and into the weather that hid the sunset from view.

His walk from his spacious shared house to Athrym's was a familiar one by now, and the tall red-head made note of the festive decorations on the neatly organized rows of houses in his neighborhood—wreaths of thistles and ribbons, candles in every window, and tails of yarn hung from doorknobs. A few homes had a couple of gifts set next to their doors—baskets of sweets and baked goods, waiting to be enjoyed when the homeowners returned from a night of caroling, Church-going and, of course, drinking.

Naul had plans for getting guttered, that was for clocking sure.

Warm, languid thoughts kept him occupied as he sloshed through the familiar streets and alleyways, past the familiar yards toward the petite blonde's home, having told the carriage to pick them both up there before they joined their companions in the Stacks for a leisurely evening of pub hopping and drink-sampling. Perhaps they could make their way to the Church of the Moon for part of the night in order to catch the proper Feast of Saint Grumble retelling, especially for Athrym's sake, but as far as Nauleth was concerned, he was just as content moving from one empty glass to the next because the rainy season required such a distraction, after all.

Taking the steps to the lovely Miss Bruthgrave's small, rented home by twos, the junior professor shook out his umbrella carefully and set it to one side on the tiny porch, fussing one more time with his cravat before knocking on the door, corsage at the ready in his other hand, lopsided grin on his freckled face. The thrill of excitement felt the same every time, and Naul couldn't help but savor it—a new feeling for the ambitious galdor, an experiment in emotions like none he'd felt before in anyone's company,

"Merry Feasting and Happy Saint Grumble, Athrym!" The young Siordanti called out cheerfully. Field already swirling with eagerness, he waited for the door to open, attempting to prepare himself for the anticipated attractiveness that he already knew would greet him on the other side.

The carriage would arrive behind him as he waited, and he thanked the gods for such impeccable timing.
Welcome to Brunnhold, stop-clocker, now go home.

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Daalton Gilardioni
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: Better Than You
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Mon Jul 02, 2018 8:46 pm

3 Roalis 2718

"Are you clocking kidding me?" The Living professor's eyes narrowed, pointed directly at Meredith. She stood there, awkward and eyes downward, as the galdor soaked in a bath of mint-scented water. The water was milky in colour, hiding his naked form below its surface so the passive girl couldn't make out anything, even if she wanted to. Daalton was sure she did, Meredith was sure she didn't. She just wanted to be released from the room before the crackling energy of Daalton's field was directed at her. Daalton just glared for a moment.

"Get the Hell out of here. And do not let me catch you in my sight again for the rest of the day. You are ruining my Feast Day," Daalton said, and Meredith yipped and ran from the room. He leaned his head back on the ornate porcelain of the tub, eyes closed. He sighed, letting go of Meredith's incompetence. All she had to do was make a decent gin martini, but what came back was bruised more than the girl's ego ever could be. He set the glass on the tile next to the tub, but he had considered throwing it at her.

But Elisora... She didn't like when he treated the scraps badly, and he knew that she was in the other room, getting ready. She had already bathed and was just dressing, and he didn't need Meredith making a scene here where Elisora could see. Especially in Elisora's home, where he had been invited as a guest. Not that he was worried about not being invited back. Elise had harboured a lot of anger and resentment for him over the past few years, and it all seemed to melt away pretty quickly. Daalton was sure that things would fall back into their natural rhythm, and they certainly had.

He ran a hand over his arm, running the milky water down it in long rivulets. He had considered not going tonight, not crawling the Stacks again, but Elise had seemed so excited to go. Nauleth and Athrym had invited her, and by proxy, himself, though Daalton hadn't really wanted the invitation. He knew they were merely being polite, and to tell the truth, he was only being polite in accepting. It was the least he could do for Nauleth anyway, ever since their duel. Smirking to himself, he lifted the gin martini to his mouth and sip, frowning again immediately. He swallowed and made a face, having forgotten Meredith's misstep with the alcohol.

”Clocking disgusting,” he muttered, running wet hands over his face. The scent of mint and the menthol feeling of the water made his face feel cool, and he dipped his head down beneath the surface of the water. The water was hot, and when he emerged, he rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. Spots danced in front of his eyes from the force, but quickly dissipated.

He should have gotten out then, but he knew that Elisora was likely fretting over her choice of clothing. She and Daalton had disagreed, and the argument had ended with Daalton going to take his bath, so they hadn't resolved the issue. Elisora wasn't exactly like she was before, she was stronger and more independent now. He would have to break that eventually, but right now, he found it to be the challenge that kept their relationship interesting. Standing in the water, the gentle sound of the droplets falling from him to the main body of water was oddly soothing. He stared down in disgust at the martini, deciding to climb from the tub and begin getting ready without it. He'd had quite a few to prepare to mingle with the Siordanti and his girlfriend, and could go another ten minutes or so without one. Maybe. He'd have to remember to punish Meredith somehow when Elise wasn't home, or wasn't paying attention. One day.

He stepped from the tub to the mat on the floor, sure to not trail any excess water from the tub. He reached in and pulled the stopper chain, listening to the water being guzzled by the drain for a moment before turning to grab his towel. Elise had good taste, evidently, but her towels were among some of the things Daalton enjoyed most about her dwelling. They were fluffy and soft, and when he rubbed it over his face, it absorbed the water and left a nice, dry feeling. He scrubbed at his hair, leaving the locks elegantly disheveled. He'd just have to move a few of the stray hairs and the style would actually suit for the evening, especially with the drizzle that was coming down outside. He wiped a now-dry hand across the mirror, scrubbing away the layer of condensation, to admire himself. He looked great, even with the flush of the hot water colouring his skin. He said a quick line of monite, and his skin returned to its natural paleness. Smiling at himself, obviously impressed, he dressed quickly in the pressed suit, pulling on first the stark white button up.

The whole thing complemented his form well, as well has he knew it would. Fitting and slender, the suit was dark on white, and the tie was thin and stylish. To complete the ensemble, he pulled on a pair of spectacles, giving him the look of the consummate professor. Spritzing on a pine-scented cologne he'd brought from home, he stepped from the bathroom into Elisora's bedroom, where she sat getting ready. He smiled warmly, his eyes cool blue but warm, which was unusual for him.

”You decided to go with the dress I like,” he said, striding across the room to gently kiss the crown of her head, “I think you look ravishing, darling.” His voice was soft velvet, and the kiss a mere light on her head. He ran a hand over her shoulder, squeezing slightly, reassuringly.

”I am quite sorry about the argument, Elle. I... I was not trying to argue. Can you forgive me?” His voice was deep, apologetic, and his eyebrows quivered. This was going to be a festive night, and he wouldn't let his aggression ruin it for himself. He looked around for the gin and the shaker while she was still working on her reflection, but kept her as the focus of his attentions. He knew her.

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Athrym Bruthgrave
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: Welcome to Brunnhold. Now go home.
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Tue Jul 03, 2018 9:32 am

3rd Loshis, 2718
THE STACKS
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”Tocks!” The blonde hissed rushing from her bathroom towards the bedroom, dressed in little more than her undergarments and one ruby heel, hair drawn back into an elegant ponytail and one earring in. Her hands struggled with the other earring whilst summer green eyes searched for her other shoe, bending to look under the bed before swearing again. The Ambassador straightened and looked at the small clock on her dressing table.

“Clockstopper!” Athrym growled, taking the vibrant red dress from her bed and stepping into the silky fabric, gold ribbon edging carefully embroidered with monite. The dress was Bastian, sleeveless, drawn tightly at the waist by a thick gold belt. As a matter of choice, the Ambassador chose to remove the lavish neck cowl that could be attached to the outfit, not at all fond of the design. Tugging the dress over her hips and bust, the pale woman zipped it tight before buckling the belt, throwing the other outfits she’d tried on and discarded up around the room as she searched for her elusive second shoe.

Merry Feasting and Happy Saint Grumble, Athrym!

The young woman gasped at the voice, her field in a state of panic as she realised that she was running late. So late! Half running-half hopping from her room, the Gioran threw the cushions from her armchair before glancing at the kitchen table.

“How the clocking hell...just a moment!” She cried out, grabbing the rogue heel from the offending piece of furniture and slipping into it. Pausing for a moment, she picked up a nearly empty glass of something dark amber and downed it in one go, shuddering and putting the vessel back down.

Liquid courage, as they said.

Moving back to the bathroom, the galdor looked at herself, fixing stray hair and checking the dark mauve of her lip stain was still perfectly set. Rushing back through the house, Athrym shook her head at the absolute chaos she had left in her wake. As she understood the invite, she was to attend the traditional Anaxi Feast of St Grumbles, a strange holiday that celebrated a man with a tail. Or a dragon eating the man. Something to do with a man at least. Nauleth had told her the carriage would pick them up from her place, upon which they would join Miss Rivaen and Mister Gilardoni in the Stacks for a ‘tavern crawl.’ Imaan, she had no idea what it was, but the blonde had agreed.

Then of course, she had panicked.

What in the Gods name should she wear? How should she do her hair? Tocks did she have to get everyone a gift? Did the crawl require gifts? Athrym agonised over her outfit, unwilling to admit that most of her agonising was nerves over an actual date with the Professor. A proper date.

She’d never been on a proper date before.

Grabbing her matching red silk purse, the Gioran stubbornly ignored her jacket or umbrella, priding herself on withstanding her home’s torrential downpours. Anaxi rain was more of a heavy mist than anything else. Grasping at the door handle, she opened it suddenly, stopping dead in her tracks to take in Nauleth’s delightfully attractive attire. The rushing galdor found herself momently speechless.

“H-hello Professor.” The pale foreigner said a little breathlessly, looking up at the taller man with a ridiculous smile, leaning on her door a little wistfully as she admired the red head. Quite suddenly she made a sound of surprise and disappeared into the house again, only to return with a fine maple wood box wrapped in a black silk bow. The Gioran blinked, before thrusting the box out at the Anaxi awkwardly.

“Merry Feasting Naul!” She said with a smile, allowing him to take it from her with a small nervous laugh. If he were to remove the ribbon and open the hinged top, the Anaxi professor would find nestled inside a perfectly smooth bulbous bottomed decanter of a dark honey colored liquid, the front of it engraved with Gioran symbols and the top corked and sealed with silvery wax. Athrym shrugged and waved her hand.

“It’s cognac. Gioran cognac. My cognac actually. Not mine as in my personal opened collection of drinks, that would be bizarre. Mine as in, from my parents distillery. Well my distillery too given I am a partner. But that’s not the point. It’s aged, from before my birth. Seven years barrel aged and twenty one, nearly twenty two years aged in the bottle. See if you look here, on the side, the bottle is engraved with my birthday. That’s when it was bottled. You can’t buy this anywhere, it’s part of our private collection. Extremely delicate yet holds an unexpected fire, with the most wonderful hint of blistleberry boldly bursting through towards the end.” She rubbed her hands together with another nervous laugh, before her eyes widened and she swore.

“By Imaan, I didn’t even think. You can’t very well carry that around like some moony kenser. Here.” As quickly as she had handed him the alcoholic gift, Athrym snatched it off him and turned to place it on the small table beside her front door, looking at Naul with a sigh.

“Sorry, I’m a bit rushed and a bit late. I didn’t know what to wear and if it was the right time for a gift, nor if I should be purchasing more gifts for others. Then I couldn’t find my shoe, and I just blinked and here you are!” Her verdant gaze drifted to his cravat with a tsk of one far more familiar with fashion than a cursory glance. Tucking her purse under one arm, the Gioran deftly fixed the offending sea green garment as though it was her life’s work.

“That’s better. One would assume you’d never worn a cravat before, Professor Siordanti.” Patting the accessory once she was done, Athrym smiled up at the man.

“What next then? I am at the mercy of your guidance here.”
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Elisora Rivaen
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Sun Jul 15, 2018 12:40 am

Today, she was reminded of how infuriating Daalton could be. Elise had just finished her bath and began to pull out her dress. He had seen it and swiftly made an offhand comment about how he didn’t like it. The Elise he knew would have immediately asked him if he thought it was better if she changed, but she wasn’t that person any more. She turned to him and shot back the fact that she already made up her mind. It escalated into an argument soon enough.

There was no end to it and Daalton went to take a bath to cool himself down while Elise stood seething in front of the wardrobe. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.

In the end, Elise found herself relenting. It was such a small thing to be stubborn on, especially considering that the dress he chose had been her second choice. Besides, Daalton had accepted to go with her when clearly he wasn’t interested. And ever since they had agreed to try this again, Daalton had been nothing like the last time she had been with him all those years ago.

She grabbed the dark blue dress and put in on. The dress had been a gift from her mother, something she had never worn yet. It was a pretty thing with silver embroideries, hugging her curves in all the right ways before flaring out once it nearly reached her knees. Elise stood in front of the tall mirror, running her fingers through her hair. Between how fitted it was and how it bared her shoulders, it was probably not something she would pick for herself, but there was no denying that she did look good.

She sat down in front of her vanity and began doing her makeup, paying little attention to the soft muffled voices from the bathroom. She barely even noticed Meredith leaving and re-entering with a glass in her hand.

Elise was just finishing up with lining her eyes with a thin line of kohl when Meredith rushed outside the bathroom with her head ducked. It seemed like Daalton had asked her to bring him a drink of some sort, which she already guessed would end badly for the passive. Daalton hadn’t changed much of his stance about passives and humans and it wasn’t at all surprising.

“Meredith,” she called out. “Help me with my hair.”

The girl bowed and hurried to stand behind her. If she remembered correctly, Meredith was merely a few years younger than her, probably around eighteen. It was quite sad how at eighteen Elise had the chance to study medicine and help cure people while the girl was forced to clean and do someone else’s hair.

Still, there was no denying that Meredith was good at she was doing. Elise’s dark red hair was swiftly braided and put up in an elaborate do, revealing her smooth pale neck to the world. Meanwhile, Elise muttered a soft spell, letting the vessels on her cheeks dilate to give her face a natural flush.

“Anything I need to fix, miss?” she asked once she finished.

“It’s lovely, Meredith. Thank you.”

The girl seemed like she wanted to say something, but she was swiftly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening.

As soon as the blue-eyed galdor entered, Meredith murmured something unintelligible and scurried out of the room. She would have to figure out what happened later, but for now she wanted to enjoy the night. And for what she wanted to do, she needed Daalton to be in the best mood he could be.

The main reason that she was insistent to go to this event was because she had wanted to see if it would be possible to bring Daalton in to her experiment with Naul. While she heard all about them, the young galdor had very little idea about how they would interact with each other. For all she knew they had become best friends as professors. But still, it’s better to test the waters first. The second reason was that she had insisted to her parents that she had plans with Daalton during St. Grumble and couldn’t afford to visit home for a feast.

Elise didn’t know how they had found out, but her mother’s last few letters just went on and on about how marvelous it was that she found Daalton again. She had no idea how they knew, considering she hadn’t told them yet. Of course, it’s not farfetched to think that one of their professor friends noticed and asked them about it. Or it could just be Meredith, reporting on what she had been doing lately. Her parents adored Daalton, finding him charming and intelligent. She sure wasn’t ready to bring him over to meet her parents again.

Daalton walked over to her, his eyes warm and gentle – but she suspected it was just the alcohol dulling him. She couldn’t recall the last time he looked at her with true warmth.

She smiled gently at him as he touched her shoulder. Daalton always knew how to dress to impress. “And you look as handsome as always.” She glanced up to look at him in his blue eyes. It still seemed surreal that somehow she ended up with Daalton again. Yet, she knew despite her want for him, she couldn’t let history repeat itself. Despite the moments they shared recently, the young woman could not help but stay a bit wary. “I forgive you, but next time, do restrain yourself from dictating what I wear. I’m not a child, you know.”

“I’m done, I think,” she announced as she stood, giving him a brief kiss on his cheek. She could smell the faintest bit of alcohol on him, laced with his distinct scent. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Just how much have you drank?”

“Your carriage had arrived, miss,” Meredith suddenly announced meekly from outside the bedroom, gaze still nailed to the floor.

She linked her arms through Daalton’s looking up at him. Her mind went to all the St. Grumbles they had spent together. They were both much older now, but she wondered if he really did change. Whether giving him a second was a mistake. “Try not to stir a fight, alright Daalton?” she said teasingly, even though she was completely serious. As she looked at him again, she grinned. “I think I left a bit of rouge on you.” She reached out to brush it away with her thumb.

She looked back at the passive before they left the front door. “I might be coming home late. You can go out and get yourself some food.”

Something told her that this would be an eventful night.
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Nauleth Siordanti
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: Magus in the Making
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Fri Jul 20, 2018 10:42 am

3rd of Loshis, 2718
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It was with a blush that Nauleth stood admiring Athrym as she stood admiring himself, the bright color on his pale cheeks hiding the freckles but unable to hide the broad grin that followed, right side before the left. She seemed flustered, which was only more attractive honestly, an awareness that thrummed through their fields that their association with each other was more than just an idle curiosity or a moment of magical conquest.

The petite blonde's momentary disappearance left the junior professor blinking, staring after her, until Athrym shoved a lovely box in his direction with all the decorum of a foreigner, grinning at him and explaining the contents as he opened it, "Thank you. Your family produces this? It looks lo—oh. Yes. Well, I'm sure I can come back for it later, can't I?" Just as soon as he'd begun to admire the cognac, pale hands were reaching for it again and he smirked at the Gioran, hands reaching for her to pull her closer for a very unchaste kiss in her threshold, making promises with his words and his lips to come back to her home for more than just the gift,

"Relax. There's no agenda tonight except for getting plum guttered, trust me. There's nothing to be late to except getting yourself as sloshed as possible. Everyone can clocking wait, anyway. I've heard it's the fashionable thing to do." He laughed at her nervousness as if to charm it away, hands lingering on the fine fabric of her lovely dress until she reached up to fuss with his cravat with more talent in five seconds than all his minutes of struggling over the thing. He leered at her defiantly as she chided him,

"I just have better things on my mind than a mundane piece of menswear, to be honest." Nauleth teased in return, stepping back to reach for one of her hands and offer to place the lovely thistle corsage upon one delicate wrist, taking his time doing so if only to tease her with his touch because he couldn't help himself, because they were far too dressed up for a totally ridiculous evening of drinking, laughing, and making fools of themselves while crawling through The Stacks from one pub to the next. It was hilarious but also exciting.

His expression softened, quite aware that he was rather smitten with the Ambassador after just barely a month's time and unsure as to whether to feel like an idiot charmed by foreign phrases and scandalous intimacies or whether he should be excited for their shared magical passions and challenging intellectual conversations.

Both.

Definitely both.

Releasing her with reluctance, Naul swept a hand toward the carriage that waited at the end of the sidewalk to her home through the gentle rain, "We've got some folks to meet. You remember Miss Elisora Rivaen, don't you? Well, herself and a date will be joining us for our inglorious pub crawl of a celebration. We'll be meeting them at The Singing Badger, and the first couple there has to find a table and buy the first round."

The young Siordanti laughed again and led Athrym to their transportation, nodding at the young human driver before he assisted the blonde inside and followed, sitting comfortable on one side of the seats and settling in for the short ten minute or so ride,

"Brunnhold has a rather rich and well-supported drinking culture." Naul sniggered, "One may even say prestigious—or perhaps infamous—given how enthusiastically students like to unwind. What about Gior?"

Happy to engage in curious cultural comparisons until their arrival, the junior professor made no effort to keep his hands to himself, far too enraptured by the lovely creature too dressed up for his own good even while sober, let alone probably even more alluring once he was as inebriated as he planned on becoming.

The carriage ride was short, made shorter by conversation and distraction, and Nauleth would make sure he stepped out first in order to help the Gioran Ambassador down and onto the decorated, festive street with no small amount of flair and a sly grin. Offering his arm, he would lead their way down the street toward The Singing Badger, known for its strange little statue outside the front door—a badger (of course) standing on two legs, posed as if belting out an operatic stanza of epic proportions. He was a local object of entertainment for the student population, often dressed up for whatever occasion, such as St Grumble's Feast. A wreath of thistles and a dragon's tail graced the tall carving tonight as well as a pair of spectacles and an upside down pint glass for a hat—it was a ridiculous sight to behold.

Making sure to open the door to the already bustling pub with all of his well-bred manners, Naul let Athrym inside and out of the rain first while his gold-rimmed gaze searched for either an open table or their evening's company, uncaring whether he was the first to arrive or not because he was quite aware he'd be spending plenty of coin on alcohol regardless.
Welcome to Brunnhold, stop-clocker, now go home.
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Daalton Gilardioni
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: Better Than You
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Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:43 pm

3 Roalis 2718

He had to admit, she did look as ravishing as he said. He stood there while she finished getting ready, quietly admiring the way the muscles in her back delicately moved under pale flesh. Even Meredith's announcement couldn't bring his eyes from her, and when she turned and asked him to behave, it was a genuine smile. No shark-like gaze, no derision in the corners of his mouth. Instead, as he reached for the sealskin umbrella he carried and had left by the door, he assured her with candor.

"For you, darling, anything," he said, smiling brilliantly. Holding his arms out the door, he opened the umbrella and waited for Elisora to walk out underneath it, trailing behind and standing half-in and half-out of the umbrella. At least she remained dry. The walk to the carriage wasn't long anyway, and Daalton knew at some point that he would be getting rained on. St. Grumbles was seldom a dry affair.

The carriage driver was prepared, though, for that. A bottle of gin sat in a bucket of ice, only slightly melted, with a silver tumbler in a groove carved into the seat. Pulling it, Daalton mixed two martinis, offering one to Elisora and plopping one of the juiciest and ripest olives from the jar into both. He sat back and sipped, the strength of the gin delighting his mouth.

"I can only imagine that you are worrying about our past celebrations, Elle," Daalton started slowly, tentative to broach the subject on the ride. He stared straight ahead, cold blue eyes staring at the ornate wood of the carriage. He watched her from the corner of his eyes, but didn't dare to make eye contact with her. Not yet.

"I know that things have not always been great between us, but I am trying to do what I can. I have been selfish in the past, and I want to change that," he said, totally serious. He finally broke his staring at the wood to look into her eyes, and a pale hand reached out and touched Elisora's.

"So tonight is me trying to show you I am serious," he concluded, slamming the rest of the gin in the glass. He quickly set to making another, but stopped before loosing any gin into the tumbler. Meeting with Siordanti and his lady would require Daalton to maintain at least some semblance of control, and he didn't need to show up plum guttered. Smiling tightly, he set the tumbler and glass back down and leaned back, quietly placing a white hand on Elisora's in her lap, holding it gently. He was really warm, almost uncomfortably so. Still, though, he looked out the window as they traveled towards the Stacks. Sighing, the smell of the gin on his breath made him want more, but he held his composure.

The carriage rolled up to the Singing Badger, and Daalton climbed out first. He snapped open the umbrella, even though it was drizzling at best, and offered his free hand to help Elisora from the carriage. The Stacks were humming with activity, even this early in the day, and Daalton had to move his form a few times to avoid being crashed into by students running to or fro. Wrapping an arm around Elisora to shield her, still awkwardly holding the umbrella, Daalton navigated them towards the Singing Badger. A galdor ran into them, a boy of likely sixteen or seventeen.

When he realized it was Professor Gilardioni, he scrambled to his feet and apologized, running off in the other direction. Daalton considered making him sick to his stomach, or shit his pants, but with Elisora with him, he held himself in check.

"Are you okay? He did not hurt you, did he?" Daalton checked her form, ensuring her dress wasn't dirty or ripped. She seemed okay, from the outside, but he wanted to make sure she was fine. Upon her confirmation, he led them inside, looking around.

Of course Siordanti isn't here yet, he thought. He'd have to buy the first round. Clever on the ginger's part, for sure. "Table over here, darling," he said, gently leading her to the table and pulling out the chair for her.

"Something from the bar?" The man was tall and skinny, attractive, but obviously knew his place.

"Something for the lady, please. I'm waiting for our... friends," he said, forcing the word out.

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Elisora Rivaen
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Thu Sep 20, 2018 9:05 am

“We… We do need to talk about it. What this all means,” the young woman said softly as she met his gaze, sipping slowly from her glass. His cool blue eyes were steady, sincere. A part of her believed him while the rest wanted to. But he had broken his promises before. She smiled slightly at him, perhaps even a little sadly, but her eyes were unwavering. “I’ll hold on to your words, Daalton.” No more second chances. If he hurt her again… she couldn’t give another pass, another excuse for them to be together.

But right now, they should be enjoying the night. Elise could see the professor struggling to be at his best behavior and that enough for her.

Without thinking, Elise turned over her hand so the she could wound her fingers through his. It was an old habit. Something she had done hundreds of times before with him. Only seconds later that she realized what she was doing. It had been far too easy for her to fall back to her old routines. Their relationship had settled back into place swiftly, almost as if they never separated.

Once they arrived, Daalton stepped out first and Elise quickly followed, ducking her head underneath the umbrella as she took in their surroundings. The street was busy with activity and they certainly wasn’t the only thinking of spending St. Grumbles in the Singing Badger. In fact, she could spot more than a few couples entering together, giggling and smiling at each other. As Daalton held her, she leaned into him. With her dress, she could feel the biting cold, the wind brushing against her shoulders, making her snuggle against his warmth. Distracted by the scene, Elise didn’t even realize that a boy was heading their way until they collided. Elise gasped softly as she stumbled, but Daalton kept her from falling over.

Elise smiled reassuringly at him and squeezed his arm. She had forgotten how considerate he could, how she could feel safe in his arms. “I am fine. It’ll take a lot more than an overexcited student to hurt me.”

Fortunately, they got into the bar without much accident and a human servant immediately greeted them. Once they were guided to their table and offered to order, Elise shrugged lightly. She was hungry more than anything, but starting off with a drink shouldn’t hurt. “I’ll take champagne for now,” the young doctor ordered with a gentle smile before turning back to her partner.

It was difficult not to notice how Daalton seemed almost pained when he said the word friends. Curious, Elise could not help but comment, “I would have imagined that you have a somewhat friendly relationship with Nauleth Siordanti, now that you two work as professors.” Before long, the waiter returned with their order, gracefully moving and placing it on their table.

As she reached for her glass, she looked up to Daalton. “I probably should have mentioned this earlier…” His gaze was warm and gentle tonight, it was almost disconcerting. She couldn’t help but wonder if he thought she had changed, or whether in his eyes she was still that girl who fawned over him all those years ago. “I have been doing experiments with Professor Siordanti. It’s not much, just the effects of electricity to our organs, and I’ve been–” Before she could finish, her eyes caught sight of the familiar figures of a certain couple.

“They’re here,” Elise announced as she leaned back in her seat. She was starting to doubt herself. Perhaps this wasn’t such a great idea.
Last edited by Elisora Rivaen on Wed Dec 05, 2018 5:05 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Athrym Bruthgrave
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: Welcome to Brunnhold. Now go home.
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Tue Sep 25, 2018 8:44 am

3rd Loshis, 2718
THE STACKS
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Taking a deep breath, Athrym giggled against his lips, squeezing his hands and nodding at his words. She did need to relax, it wasn’t like this was a formal event. It was a clocking festival for a man eaten by his dragon. Maybe. Something to that effect. The platinum blonde raised an eyebrow at the taller Anaxi’s description of the evenings expected events.

“Guttered? Sloshed? I assume you mean drinking responsibility and savouring the various depths and flavours of the alcoholic beverages available?” The cognac heiress said cooly, as smooth as the drink her family had perfected, before breaking into a dimpled smirk and glancing away with a blush as Naul somehow made the act of fixing his cravat far less innocent than it really was. Lifting her hand at his silent request, she watched as the professor slipped the corsage on her wrist, bringing it closer to examine the curious fancy. Still smirking, the foreign dignitary glanced up at the man, catching the slightly far away look in his amber rimmed gaze with a slight tilt of her head and a questioning crease of her brow.

Athrym was loathe to admit, but if anyone were to ask she was somewhat infatuated with the red haired professor. His softly freckled features were almost accented by the slightly mistimed movements of the left hand side of his face, making the man unique and fascinating, something the young Gioran couldn’t dismiss as just a fleeting fascination. For a moment, she held his eyes, leaning slightly as though expecting Nauleth would kiss her again.

And then, the moment passed.

Gathering her senses and drawing her telltale field closer, Athrym nodded and followed him to the carriage, welcoming the light drizzle that dusted her hair like so many tiny crystals.

“Oh yes, she was with us in the better part of the library.” The pale galdor half teased, before slipping into the seat provided. Settling in, the Ambassador glanced out the window for a moment, before turning back to the Anaxi.

“Do you know much about this Mister Gilardoni that Miss Rivaen is bringing? I admit, I have seen his name once or twice in the faculty lists, but I’ve not been inspired to seek him out. Quite enough professors in my life at present.” She chuckled, nudging his shoulder gently with hers, unable to help another giggle as the taller man seemed to find more interesting things to do than just chat in their carriage.

“Unwinding in Gior? Well, in Qrieth there’s meditation in the Church of the Eternal Child. Or accessing Imaans Caverns, it’s really quite beautiful there. Oh, and we have the Ba Bieth festival at Ivenlath.” Sighing something in her native tongue that was closer to a moan than a breath as the red haired professor moved with delicious distraction, the Gioran drew her the curve of her lower lip between her teeth impishly.

“Though anybody who is anybody knows if you want to...partake in a less savoury activity...you take a trip to Citeiva. But, you didn’t hear that from me.” Athrym muttered, loosing herself in the far more enticing past time Naul was encouraging.

As the carriage came to a steady halt—far sooner than the blonde would have liked—the Gioran Ambassador fixed her hair and clothing before taking the Anaxi’s hand and stepping down. Her summer gaze scanned the street, before looking up at the strange little creature dressed up in thistles and a pint glass hat.

“That’s...different. Tell me, Professor, is this a galdori-only event, or will there be humans?” Her nose curled ever so slightly, and for a moment her usually bold demeanour was drawn, her field fraying ever so slightly at the edges as they entered The Singing Badger. The pale foreigner looked around the busy bar as they walked, taking in the various sights and sounds. It was clear the majority of the patrons were either drunk, or very eagerly racing towards drunk. For a second, her green gaze skipped the young auburn haired woman, before returning with a well practiced political smile and a small wave.

“There Nauleth, I see Miss Rivaen and I assume Mister Gilardioni?” Squeezing his arm slightly with hers, Athrym leaned closer.

“I assume you Anaxi can make a Green Madhouse, yes?” She said quietly, without a hint of hesitance.

If they were meant to get guttered, then she may as well start with a bang.

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Nauleth Siordanti
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: Magus in the Making
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Wed Nov 07, 2018 3:20 pm

3rd of Loshis, 2718
"Responsible? No, I don't mean anything of the sort. I mean getting guttered." Nauleth grinned, freckled face full of mischief, admittedly occasionally ignorant of social queues. Athrym had leaned closer, expectant, and yet his thoughts moved too quickly to catch her hint, too quickly to take a moment to kiss her one more time. Instead, he was whisking the blonde Ambassador toward their carriage, laughing at her calling the Crypts the better part of the Library while he settled next to her in the seat.

"Oh yes, I know Daalton quite well." There was no sarcasm in his tone, and as he spoke quietly, it was almost deadpan. Once the door was closed and the carriage was on its way, he settled comfortably against the admittedly attractive young woman, leaning to finally admire her with a few warm kisses against her shoulder, speaking as he did so, "Mister Gilardoni was the young man I dueled in fifth form. He was present for my backlash and survived. We are strange friends, and yet what happened to me was only his fault insofar as he can be a real ersehole. What happened all those years ago was mostly on me."

Lips brushed her ear before he chuckled and leaned away, making sure Athrym saw the honesty on his face. Yes, they were going drinking with the galdor he'd dueled in fifth form. Yes, they were acquaintances. He didn't even seem to hold a grudge at this point, aware that friendship with Daalton mostly involved attempting to see past his massive ego. Elisora was at least a far easier conversationalist, and one he figured they could be guaranteed to get along with.

He grinned again, listening to her talk about Gioran culture, aware that his wandering hands were just distracting enough. Until the carriage stopped, at least, and Nauleth paused to fuss with his cravat and smooth over the buttons of his coat before the door opened again and he stepped out first to help the lovely Ambassador outside again,

"Saint Grumbles is a holiday for all people in Anaxas, but the drinking establishments we will be enjoying this evening in the Stacks are primarily galdori-only. The staff will most likely be wick or human, but the admitted goal is to get so sloshed, you won't even notice." The young Siordanti spoke as he led them toward The Singing Badger, not even concerned about the lower races that may have meandered the crowd around them. The streets were decorated with phosphor lights and wreaths and red ribbons, and there were many folks dressed up as dragons. Music could be heard from various taverns and even a small band on the street, all playing familiar songs while a bit of light rain began to drizzle once again.

Holding the door open for the petite blonde, the junior professor scanned the tables and nodded in the direction of his friends, unable to keep himself from arching an eyebrow in challenge, recognizing that Daalton had been the first to arrive and therefore had to be the first to pay.

Had he planned that? Not in the least.

But he wasn't going to complain, either.

Leading the pair toward the table, he settled comfortably with a nod of greeting and a customary brush of fields, "Good to see you again, Elise, and I'm glad you could convince Daalton to put down the books long enough to be social. Dalton, this is Athrym, Ambassador of Gior. I will be the odd man out this evening, as usual, for everyone else here is far more educated about Living conversation than I am, minus my face, of course."

He grinned in his typical lopsided way, wicked and taunting, leaning to wave for the server to return,

"What can I help you two with?" The young man smiled, obviously human and yet not at all intimidated by a table of young galdori this evening.

"A Green Madhouse for the lady and I'll have a NeverbetterI figured it would be culturally appropriate when out with a Gioran. Bahahaha. myself."

"Excellent choices. I'll be back with all of your drinks shortly." The young man smiled and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the four galdori to themselves again.

Naul couldn't help but rest an arm needfully across the back of the petite blonde's chair, fingers tracing over fabric as he crossed one leg over his knee and let his gold-rimmed gaze drift from Elisora back to Daalton, "Are your students treating you well this term? Has Elise shared with you about our little experiments? She snubbed working with Hulle for me. I can't complain."
Welcome to Brunnhold, stop-clocker, now go home.
Last edited by Nauleth Siordanti on Tue Dec 04, 2018 3:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Daalton Gilardioni
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: Better Than You
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Tue Dec 04, 2018 1:00 pm

3 Roalis 2718

As they sat, Daalton studied Elise's face, watching for the signs of discomfort he knew were there. The alcohol in his blood kept him looser than usual, though, and he reached out a soft hand and placed it on hers. She was nervous, and though he'd never admit it, he was too. He hadn't spent any serious amount of time with Siordanti since the accident, and though he didn't totally blame himself, there was some blame to be lain at the feet of the hubristic teenage Gilardioni.

So as they waited, Daalton was quiet but supportive, present in their conversation even as he kept his eyes peeled for Nauleth and his date. He'd never met Athrym, as far as he could remember, and so his apprehension was even higher. Elise, though, seemed far more nervous. Daalton let his blue eyes fall on her face, memorizing the details before he smiled.

"Electricity, huh? Have you found anything useful?" he asked, smiling at the corners of his mouth. His tone was soft, but interested, and it was completely out of character for him. As she began to explain, though, he saw the shock of red hair that belonged to Naul, and the beautiful Gioran with him. Standing as they approached, as any gentleman would, Daalton held out a hand to shake Naul's.

"Well, Elise asked me to come, and what book is more interesting than dinner with friends?" Daalton asked jovially, laughing. The smell of gin wafted from his mouth, but he was pleasant enough. "Ambassador, a pleasure to meet you. If you are here with Nauleth, I am assuming that all the good professors were busy with their own Saint Grumbles plans?" He laughed again, meeting Naul's eyes. There was no challenge there, not this time, just a good-natured joke. As Naul and Athrym sat, so too did Daalton, ordering a drink right after them.

"Actually, I will have a Neverbetter myself, please," he said, barely glancing at the serving boy. Instead, his attention returned to his drinking companions, and his hand went back to the pale skin of Elise's. Smiling again at the corner of his lips, the intense Anatomy professor studied Nauleth and Athrym, noting their comfortable nature around one another.

"Pretty well so far. I do not have problems with my students very often. My reputation precedes me, I suppose," he said, chuckling. He was well aware that many of the students thought him difficult and demanding, but many took his courses for just that reason. He afforded no slack, allowed no shortcuts, and because of it, many of his students were better for it.

"Actually, she was just telling me when the two of you arrived. Elise, darling, you did fail to mention that you chose Nauleth over Professor Hulle. A bold choice, to be sure. Have you two found anything of interest?" The interest was genuine. Daalton had considered electro-therapy as a way to treat Passivity, but there was no correlation between the genetics of the scraps and their brains, outside the obvious. Still, if Elise and Nauleth had found something he could use as a connector, Daalton could begin his studies...

No, he needed to contact the Mugrobi first. Instead, he just listened intently while Nauleth and Elise described their experiments, watching and waiting for anything he could use.

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