School is not for Horsing Around- TAKE 2 Icarus/Jhasi

brothersofthedominion:

“Oh, by the stars…” Icarus curled his lips inward, grumbling when he saw that damnable cat make his way into the hall.

“Alright uh-… O-kay, th-thats everyone.” The mer glanced over the students, “My n-name is Al-… Alabyn in c-case you have-…” he cleared his throat, “In case y-you haven’t seen me around b-before.”

The justiciar couldn’t his eyes further into his head. Gods, even the introduction felt like a century to get out of his mouth. He would’ve rather risked getting sick from Faralda at this point, he’d be learning quicker, at least. He twitched a little when the new instructor plopped his hand onto some tomes with a deep thud.

“Fa-Faralda has inf-f-f- informed me that you guys are on your-your- your second week on p-p-pyromancy. Are m-most of you here fa-fa-f-f-… familiar with the firebolt spell?”

Some hands were raised, others shuffled around awkwardly. Icarus was struggling to stay awake, and this Alabyn was definitely not helping.

Hoo boy..” the mer leaned over the podium, fingers against his temple, “Right then, th-these bad boys should have you c-c-covered for th- uh– th–th-the class. Please bring th-the- bring them back in th-th-the same c-c-condition they came in. I get absolutely thrilled listening t-t-to Urag p-p-piss and moan about the uh– th-th-the condition of these tomes.”

“Right uh… Hm, th-theres five of you…  Onmund, Brelyna, and J’– Excuse me– J-J-J’zargo? I’ll uh– I’ll have you three in a group. And–”

Oh no.

He was not getting teamed up with that damned cat again.

Icarus lifted his hand, “With all due respect, there had been some…” he cleared his throat,complications last time Tolfdir teamed us up together.” the justiciar protested, “Would it be too much to ask if you moved the cat with the others and I’ll take one of them?”

The instructor stretched his lips, “If I can– If I can handle a c-c-couple days in an Oblivion Gate, I’m q-q-quite sure you can handle uh- uh– a khajiit for roughly an hour. Icarus and J’hasi, you two are together. Get to it.”

J’hasi grimaced, ears flicking back under his hood. Great. So not only was the whelp in the same room as him, he had to deal with his bullshit firsthand too. While the Oblivion gate comment from his apparent new professor piqued his curiosity, the Khajiit kept his mouth shut and his head down when he went up to grab a spelltome, heading towards an open spot in the hall that easily kept the whelp and his superior in his sight, while keeping some distance from Alabyn.

“What, afraid that ‘the cat’ will show you up again?” J’hasi muttered under his breath as he passed the Thalmor whelp, the lack of uniform weirding him out a bit honestly. He’d almost look like a normal student, if arrogant out the ass and with a foul temper to match. The Khajiit set the book down behind one of the pillars to keep it out of harm’s way, rubbing his hands together before running over the firebolt spell in his head. While he wasn’t a complete novice with it, it was still new enough to him that he didn’t feel confident that he was doing it right, and his typical problems with casting really did not help.

boarchasers:

‘Aye, that’s as maybe, but don’t think I won’t do my duty if I see somebody violating the law.’

Having made his stern warning, and deciding that it was all his duty required of him for now, Trond took a long drink from the tankard and relaxed slightly. It was good to have something warming in his hands, what with the chill in the air. Not quite enough to make him smile at his occasional adversary, but no point in rushing things. Now all he had to do was remember how people made small talk without the protection of a shield and helmet.

‘Entering any of the competitions this year? Seem to recall you didn’t think your, uh, friend there was much of a racer last time.’

J’hasi was busying himself rubbing down the mare’s jaw and neck, Ghost closing her eyes as she enjoyed the attention with a whisk of her tail.

“She’s not the fastest, but I might just for fun. I didn’t get a chance to join the archery contest last year, so I’m trying to stay a little bit more sober this time around. Trying being the key word. The mead they make for the festival is too good to completely pass up.” The Khajiit smiled at the Nord, the mischievous gleam to his eye gone, and leaving a genuine, almost happy expression in its place.

“Anything that catches your eye in the contests, or are you going to give the food and drink a vigorous quality testing?” he asked, Ghost snorting into his mane and puffing it up with her hot breath.

Guilt- Aldaril/Jhasi

brothersofthedominion:

“Unless I get dish-…discharged er somthin’. I up n’ quit now, I may as well put my head on th’ choppin’ for desser- desertion.” Aldaril picked up the bottle, giving it a swirl, “ ‘Sides, when-when-… If I stop now, I canna– I can’t support th’ rest of my family– My aunt. Sh-shes the uh-… We’d be orphans on th’ street if not fer her.” He took another swig of the wine, head thumping on the support of the bed, “Rest of th’ family didn’t wan’ us… Icarus speshif–.. speh– fuck–specifically.”

He rested his face into his palms, fingers clutching onto his brows, “We were dumb kids, y’know- dumb an’–dumb and angry. Some Nords took a-a-a hit at uh– at our home. Next thing ya know, our cousin gets lopped in half in th’ Great War. Our uncle nearly follows an’ I gotta drag ‘im out of a legion camp and — an’–”

His fingers wrung the neck of the bottle. He could almost smell the metallic tang of blood, almost feel the warm fluid seeping into his arms as the recollections flooded his memory. His chest lifted rapidly before desperately taking the bottle into his mouth. He slammed the bottle down, missing the carpet; glass scatted across the floor in all directions. “Sleck!” The intoxicated mer cursed under his breath, glancing sheepishly at the khajiit, “S-… Sorry about that, cerum.”

J’hasi jumped at the sound of shattering glass, seeing the sharp shards of green scattering over the stone under them with a splattered puddle of wine. He huffed quietly, knowing that with the mer drunk, he was going to get more than one piece buried in his foot or something if he didn’t clean it up. He waved the Altmer off, pushing himself up into a crouch, starting to gather up the shards in a pile, his tail flicking slowly behind him as it smoothed out to its normal size.

“I see…” he murmured quietly, silent for a moment, pausing with his fingers touching a shard of glass before he hooked his claws under it, pulling it up and into his palm, the edge scraping the stone quietly before tinking against its fellows in the growing pile. The Khajiit took a slow breath as he worked on cleaning up before speaking again.

“I’m…sorry that your family was hurt. The war…wasn’t kind to anyone, least of all those who lost something important because of it…” J’hasi’s ears lowered, feeling emotion pool into his chest as he picked up the shards, reminded of Baht’s gleaming scales, all proud and excited to join the Blades…only to be shot down, an arrow piercing through his back, into his stomach…blood, blood everywhere…

Watching the fear in his eyes when he came back to scoop the Saxhleel up out of the snow, tears, whimpering as the last little bit of light in his eyes faded away…quiet, whispered panic in his hisses of Jel before…silence, nothing but dead air from dead lungs escaping into the frigid mountain winds…

J’hasi started a little at something hitting his thumb, looking down and seeing his fur was damp on the back of his hands, turning his face to swipe away the tears pooling up in his eyes before Aldaril could notice. He let out a slow breath, his voice sounding a little more fragile.

“I hope that you’re allowed to go home soon. Start a different career. Convince your brother to take up work where his mouth is less likely to get him into trouble, maybe.” he said, gathering up the last of the glass and looking at the wine dripping off the sharp edges.

“While it was a choice made out of anger, I hope it’s not one that costs you everything.”

J’hasi yawned hugely, tongue curling to touch the tip of his nose before he shivered and sneezed, shaking his head. A few fallen leaves fluttered off of his head, an ear flicking absentmindly to rid itself of another that had clung on. Ghost nickered, adjusting her shoulder against the tree, lifting her head a little to peer down at her master, her pale-dappled coat littered with her own small scattering of leaves.

The Khajiit chuckled, rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of one hand, while the other blinding groped up to her muzzle and rubbed her chin, then back to her jaw, giving her a pat.

“M’up, m’up…” he mumbled, the mare whisking her tail in response to a fly landing on her flank before nibbling at the Khajiit’s ears, hoping that the lingering scent of mead on his fur meant he would get more that she could have.

boarchasers replied to your post : “Wait, where did you get that?” [Trond][calm down…

To risk it, or not to risk it? With a gift of mead involved, it was barely even a decision. Trond took the tankard with a less severe glare than usual. ‘Think you’re funny, citizen? Think again. And… thanks.’

The Khajiit’s grin widened, but he seemed at ease. Not drunk yet, but judging by his apparent lighthearted mood, he was on the way.

“I’m hilarious. Don’t know what you’re talking about. Glad to see that you got this festival off, enjoy the festivities without having to duck and hide from your commander.” He giggled when Ghost quietly approached, then nudged his shoulder, then turned to lipping at his ear.

“After all, a festival isn’t a festival unless you can relax and enjoy it properly.”

[TFW you’ve been tryna find something to pay the bills bc of your last manager’s complete refusal to compromise on matters of disability and after stressin out about having to live off what little you have saved up before your fucking DVR person comes through with a place that needs workers AND is super good about working with disabled folks

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started