A courier gives a crate one final nudge towards J’hasi before taking a well-needed rest nearby. Said crate contains a sack labelled “Ghost” that’s full of apples and carrots; a few salted pieces of prime meat preserved by ice wraith teeth; a set of newly-sewn college robes (and boots); a blank hardback journal that smells of fresh paper; a few scarves; a warm fur cloak, and a large pack with tubes sewn into pockets that one could place scrolls in. A note simply says “Happy Saturalia”.

J’hasi was shocked at the amount of stuff crammed into the crate, and not even a name or anything on the note, not even the back. He gave the food a wary sniff, and no, not even the tiniest trace of poison. Ghost nickered, then bumped him between the shoulderblades, wanting her share of the gift. He sighed, plucking a carrot from the bag and gave it a careful sniff before offering it to her. The pale mare eagerly crunched it up, nickering in satisfaction while the Khajiit returned to cautiously poking around the box of goodies.

The scent of whoever gave him the gifts was long gone, instead reeking of the courier who had wandered off to the inn, presumably to get away from the College and the cold. J’hasi frowned, picking up the robes, and…wow they were thicker than the ones he had. He immediately took to the scarves, the texture was pleasant and the weight was just right. The Khajiit started pulling them from the crate, draping them over Ghost’s back to admire the colors, the mare finishing her carrot and before long and resumed pestering him for another. J’hasi touched her nose.

“Don’t eat all of them right away, you glutton.” he chided. She snorted in his face and bumped his shoulder in quiet demand. The Khajiit sighed, it would be a little less weight to carry back to the College. He plucked out another for her, the pleased crunching giving him enough peace to pick up the crate, clicking for Ghost to follow him to the bridge. Whoever had sent him the gift, they had to’ve met him, knowing Ghost’s name. He didn’t tell everyone her name after all. The thought settled J’hasi’s anxiety enough to accept the gift, more carefully picking through the crate’s contents once he was inside the relative warmth of his room.

Do you like your colleagues at the college, J’hasi? What about the lessons and the professors there, are they any good?

The Khajiit yawned hugely, teeth flashing in the low light of the Arcaneum. He hadn’t been sleeping on a book this time, thank the Hist. He gave his jaw a little push, cracking his stiff neck and rubbing it, slowly adjusting to being awake.

“Don’ mind them, ‘cept the Thalmor whelp can go get lost in a blizzard for all I care. Sometimes he and J’zargo get competitive and it’s just best to leave the area before someone other than them gets singed.” J’hasi rubbed the side of his jaw, eyes flicking down to his text, glad that it was his homework he fell asleep on rather than his…unorthodox research. He cleared his throat, some of the raspiness in his voice giving way for a quiet roughness instead.

“I mostly keep to myself, but it’s…kinda difficult to practice some of our spells alone, so I try to find Brelyna if she’s free. At least she shows some remorse for when her spells go wrong and I have to deal with turning into a-” He snapped his mouth shut, shaking his head.

“Nevermind. Onmund is similarly easy to get along with, though J’zargo I’ve been trying to avoid when possible since the last fiasco.” J’hasi shuddered a little, shaking his head as if to clear the bad memories from it.

“I haven’t dealt with many other students at the College other than them. Koussikka seemed nice, but he doesn’t seem to stick around the College for long periods of time, or I just happen to miss him when I go off grounds.” The Khajiit shrugged.

“Tolfdir is a good teacher. Patient. Hist knows he needs it when it’s time for me to cast.” He stretched, his shoulders popping as his arms spread over his books and papers, clawtips just barely reaching some of the only bare space left on the table, then he arched his neck and back, a chorus of pops and cracks emanating from his spine. J’hasi huffed out a sigh, the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he rolled his shoulders.

“That’s better.” He swiped over his face.

“The other professors are alright. Collette…she tends to go onto tangents in lecture and it’s hard for me to follow if it’s relevant to what she’s actually trying to teach. My notes in her class are…difficult to refer back to because of how much I’ve had to cross out because she was remarking on something that happened earlier that day than the actual magic she was teaching.” The Khajiit yawned again, rubbing his trap in hopes to loosen it up.

“Most of the other classes go alright. As uh…alright as they can, I suppose. It’s difficult for me to cast anything, so I’m not sure if I’m misunderstanding the spell, or if it’s something in when I’m casting. Faralda’s classes always make me nervous, not so much because of her teaching, but because of when I have to cast and knowing that I’ll have to go to Collette afterwards moreso than with other classes. …I actually…surprisingly…miss Astarill’s classes.” He swallowed.

“I mean, I’m fine around dead bodies so long as they stay dead, but when we’re working on them to prep them for reanimation…it’s physical, it’s there, I can be told outright if I’m doing something wrong because Astarill can see what I’m doing wrong. Though um…he did say that there’s something wrong with me when I’m casting so I guess he could see that too?” The topic of the mer’s apparent but possibly-not-actual blindness had been the whispered discussion of Onmund and Brelyna on more than one occasion. J’hasi sighed.

“I mean, we hadn’t gone far into what I was doing wrong, but if I can get that fixed, then maybe classes would be easier.”

If you’re a Mage now, wouldn’t that make you…Jo’hasi?

J’hasi glared at the stranger.

“If this is some of that Khajiit honorific crap, I don’t know a damn thing about it. M’name’s J’hasi, end of story. Besides, J’zargo seems just fine with his name the way it is and he’s actually from Elsweyr, so piss off.”

LOOK OUT DAL IS GONNA EAT YOU

The Khajiit jumped, hand going for his dagger before he scowled at the stranger.

“Must you be so loud? I don’t even know who this ‘Dal’ is.” He relaxed, removing his hand from the hilt at his hip before waving them off with a faint scowl on his face.

“Run along now. Shoo.”

[🍻 (From peyt ;) )]

Accepting drinks from new acquaintances, especially ones who just so happened to be werewolves wasn’t something he typically did, but…he was short on gold. And it didn’t smell off. Maybe it was a token of goodwill, or maybe they were new enough to the whole werewolf thing that they couldn’t smell his own wolf blood.

He offered a smile, one with just a hint of teeth before he accepted the tankard.

“Thanks. Definitely could use it after today.” J’hasi downed the whole thing in one go, licking the foam from his lips and whiskers afterwards.

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy~! Then, send to the last ten people in your notifications anonymously. You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity~! 🌼

[I was born ready for this day:

  1. rain
  2. food pizza I want now
  3. stories (I love me some stories, esp with my or my friends’ ocs)
  4. birds when they’re not 100% committed to running away from you so they just speedwalk really fast and try not to look too nervous
  5. cats. cats are good

I have many more things but these are the ones that came to me first.]

Ey Jhasi, ever wanted to slap the ever loving crap out of your Mun?

“…my what? Who? …no?”

What are you most proud of, and what tarnishes that pride?

The Khajiit frowned, staring at the stranger as he thought quietly, tail tip twitching. When he finally did speak, it was quiet.

“…can’t think of anything. Not even sure I ever was.”

Do you think all of your achievements come from Nerevar, or do you really believe you have merits of your own?

The Khajiit gave the stranger a level stare.

“…Nerevar isn’t the one guiding my hand, I am.” He let out a hiss of breath between his teeth as he finally looked away.

“Far as I can tell, Nerevar, Peakstar…all of them… They’re past lives, experiences of the same soul coming back in a new body, in a new place, that didn’t have memory or knowledge of the previous life until they learned that they were possibly the Nerevarine. They grew up, had their own lives, their own dreams and desires, and they all died trying to fulfill a prophecy that they were pushed towards in some way or another.” J’hasi sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“So I’m just another trip for our…my soul…I guess. Except that I remember things, and that I didn’t die, and unless I help that along, I won’t.” He finally fixed a glare back onto the stranger.

“So no, I worked on my own merits, same as all the others. Now piss off.”

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