St. Peadrus MacCallion Exchange Program REBOOTED (IC)

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Larsa Solidor
Gallagher-Blair Hostel
1711hrs

---

-snipe-

Answering the query with a warm smile, he gathered his own bags and swiftly exited the bus, of course allowing anyone in front of him to go. "Don't quite know this bus-route-" he joked before smiling at the bus driver. "Thanks for the lift ma'am." it was a quick, common courtesy back in Danceria. Well, the bus driver may have gotten tips-or cigarettes if one was well acquainted with their commuter like many blue collar Dancerians. If it was socially awkward in Folaisia, then the sheer vastness of the public education's transit system may make these interactions few and far between. Especially considering that the hostel shouldn't be too far from the school, one would think.

Moving on, and carrying his luggage-perhaps offering to help carry others, man and women-Dancerian nobles were taught to serve, after all. Failing that, he would continue his conversation with "Otto".

"You think that there'll be some pep rally? Or would that just be for local students." he paused. "...Speaking of, wonder if we'll be rooming with any of the local students who attend? Perhaps it would be useful for those of us learning more of Folaisian culture and vice versa..."

Otto shrugged. "Perhaps. Would like to meet the locals. Although I hope to God that they don't room me with that Mohammedean or his slave. Why the hell does he need one, anyway? Cnat he carry his own shit?"

"Oi! Can I get your attention please?! Thank you."

He clears his voice.

"Now, once you have your luggage in your hands, you may enter the lobby where you'll be greeted by our welcoming committee. Once they give out their remarks, please listen to your names being called and head to your assigned rooms to settle in. Afterwards, you'll be having dinner at 6:00 in the dining hall. That's all. Thank you, again."

Bowing to finish his announcement, Alpin then motions himself to assist other students having trouble at the cargo hold, scanning for any sign.

Otto nodded in acknowledgement, and turned back to Larsa. "Right. You need help grabbing your shit or nah? I managed to back everything into this-" he gestured at his Rucksack, "-and this." Now he gestured to a leather suitcase. "I can carry my Rucksack on my back, in case you have anything you can't lift."

---

A young girl, maybe 15 or 16, exited the bus, carrying a pair of heavy bags over her back. Without stopping to talk to anyone, she retrieved a large, black guitar case from the luggage and began to enter the Hostel's lobby.

[Hanoverian Great Britain]

"Oh...oh wow...." Benoîst seemed stunned at this latest revelation, now suddenly feeling very self-conscious around this girl, as he added, "I had no idea...Your Grace." He added, the decorum and etiquette of royal protocol having been taught to him back in school until it was like clockwork, and when he'd recovered from this latest shock, he got his bearings and began to answer Mary's question, "Oh, oh right...well, its nothing much to tell really. My father's Delrico Charlet, he founded and is currently the leader of this non-State paramilitary organisation, the Purification Order, way back in the early 1990s, its sort of like the armed paramilitary wing or enforcement arm of Purgatio's ruling party, so he's been appointed to the Executive Directorate. The Government. As for my mother, well, she's a member of a noble house, La Maison de Vérac, and she's the heiress to her family's fortune in Purgatio's vibrant pharmaceuticals, biomedical, and medical devices sectors, she's more of the belle-socialite type herself. That's all I guess. See, nothing really interesting, not like being a member of a royal family." Benoîst grinned abashedly at the end.

While she had listened tentatively to Benoîst's story, her face portrayed a degree of considerable interest in the details he gave out. "A socialite? Ah, just like my sister. You see, Allie really loves travelling the world but when she gets to do it herself, she gets into these flings with a pair of Middle Eastern royals. She managed it pretty well, but for the record, she had 2 boyfriends, both of them are exes now", blurted Mary with a mix sense of storytelling and rant. "Say, what if we pair my sister and your mother? Wouldn't it be, a really great idea?", suggested her lightly, as Mary highlighted their similar "socialite" lifestyles.

[Purgatio]

While she had listened tentatively to Benoîst's story, her face portrayed a degree of considerable interest in the details he gave out. "A socialite? Ah, just like my sister. You see, Allie really loves travelling the world but when she gets to do it herself, she gets into these flings with a pair of Middle Eastern royals. She managed it pretty well, but for the record, she had 2 boyfriends, both of them are exes now", blurted Mary with a mix sense of storytelling and rant. "Say, what if we pair my sister and your mother? Wouldn't it be, a really great idea?", suggested her lightly, as Mary highlighted their similar "socialite" lifestyles.

"Wait, really?" Benoîst's expression lit up with great elation and delighted surprise, "Flings with Middle Eastern royals, you say? Wow, okay your sister honestly sounds like a lot of fun to be around, very extroverted, easy-going. And, yeah, that sounds like a fantastic idea, I'd love for our families to meet up and get to know one another, especially your sister and my mother. I mean, my mother was a bit like that too, the sociable, affable type, but only back when she was younger, god, though she's told me so many stories about her afternoon soírees and luncheons with different Purgation celebrities, royals, nobles, heiresses and all the like. Now she's older and less, well, less of a riotous partygoer than in her youth, but she still keeps such a packed social calendar, with her charity galas, her fêtes and cocktail parties with old friends. Oh, I can already imagine her and your sister would get on so well, that would be amazing, no?"

[Folaisia]

"Uh, yes actually. We were making our way to the lobby but encountered a problem. I was the captain of the flag football team in my home school, and just before we left, I pulled a muscle in my arm. I was hoping someone could help me haul my big heavy black suitcase over there."

He pointed at the roller-suitcase he left in the crowd, earlier, gripping his smaller messenger bag tightly.[/box]

After watching Khalid go off in the other direction, the girl from Connuriste rolled her light blue eyes, a little bemused by the event that had just unfolded. "I'm Emmanuelle." she told Lechle, whose handling of the situation, particularly word choice and delivery, had proven to be quite entertaining - in fact, so much so that she was a little surprised that it hadn't got him punched. It was fair to say that Lechle might have piqued Emmanuelle's interest, though not quite exactly in the way that he might like the most.

"Please, tell me that the rest of the people on that bus aren't like that." she said, laughing quietly at his mention of the catch she had clearly just missed out on as she shook her head lightly.

Of course, having just been interrupted by Khalid, they now found themselves interrupted by someone else asking if there was a problem, but before she could say anything Lechle told them a tall tale about a football injury and getting help with his own suitcase. Emmanuelle could do nothing except maintain a straight face, although luckily she had lots of practice at doing just that from times where she was nearly caught things she shouldn't be doing.

"Right," Saoirse replied, tilting her head upward, "And what's with the business between you two and Khalid?"

Dominicus Schmeetz
BUS TO THE HOSTEL
1712 LOCAL TIME

"Alright, lads and lassies, we're finally here! You can get up from yer seats and leave in an orderly fashion to get your luggage.“

Niek, who had been patiently awaiting the arrival at the hostel for some time, was not fully keen on waiting any longer. Where those further to the back kept their seats, Niek rose, hoping to catch an opportunity to try and jump the queue. Maybe he didn’t hear the bus driver mention an ‘orderly fashion’, maybe he just wanted to finally get on his feet. Once he did find a spot in the queue, he quickly stepped onto the aisle and made his way out of the bus.

He was faced by a large building, his new home for the coming weeks. He personally disliked the modernist monstrosity, on accounts of his unfamiliarity with it. Most of the architecture of Grangemouth felt distinctly European, but this structure bore no actual resemblance to anything he’d ever seen before. Foreign art and design were things to be avoided at all times where he was from, things that would undermine the feeling of national identity, and so he couldn’t belp but feel strange whilst looking at the hostel building.

He felt himself getting carried away, and quickly shifted his focus onto the task at hand: getting his luggage. The school assistants had already laid out his luggage for all to see. Where others had brought their tidy suitcases, Niek brought his army supplies. His VLL-duffle bag and field backpacklaid on the concrete for all to see. Both of his bags partially covered in old mud and grease from field exercises in the deep Limburgs woods, and the duffle bag had some scribbles on it. Smoking and gambling were severely prohibited, so Limburgs legionaries often spent their free time scribbling words and slogans on their possessions. A bunch of political statements and doodles, most of them insulting a religion or demographic, could be found on the brown fabric of the bag. There were some tame ones, like “Limburg mijn vaderland”, or “God red de gouverneur”, but the duffle also had its share of extreme slogans in foreign languages, such as: “Fuck the king”, “Hollandia delenda est”, “Me ne frego”, “Libra et moschetta: Legionara perfetto”, “Hollanders will not replace us” and “Perish Juda; Perish Hollandia”. With a tired look on his face, he took a hold of his bags, walked about five paces, and laid it all on the pavement again, where he hoped that it wouldn’t get in the way of other students. He turned himself over to the bus once more, and looked up at the assistants who had been getting the luggage from the cargo hold. “I help.” He said, calmly and determined. Back home, young adults were expected to chime in and help where they could. He shot one of the assistants a reserved smile, bearing his crooked teeth, and stepped up to the hold, hoping that his help would be appreciated by the school staff.

Ciorstan waved with a friendly grin, and strolled with grace, glancing with nonchalance. Nearing him, she leaned forward for a bit.

"Need some help," she asked with a reposeful tone in her voice, enough to mollify a nervous individual.

[Vrijstaat Limburg]

Ciorstan waved with a friendly grin, and strolled with grace, glancing with nonchalance. Nearing him, she leaned forward for a bit.

"Need some help," she asked with a reposeful ton in her voice, enough to mollify a nervous individual.

“Not me, you.” He answered firmly. Niek’s hand gestured over to the other staff who were unloading baggage from the hold, and he tried to find a spot to help them get the remaining bags out. He’d been taught not to stand around and watch whilst others toiled, and quickly clenched one of the bags in the hold, lifting it and taking it out before carefully placing it on the curb. In his youth, Niek didn’t have all that much, and thus he learnt to be careful with other people’s belongings. He wouldn’t want his bag to be thrown about with no caution, so why would he do unto others what he doesn’t want done unto him? He straightened his back, and once he was about to get another bag, he coincidentally locked eyes with Ciorstan, to whom he argued: “More people working; less work.” a bright grin ran from cheek to cheek, and he quickly laid his hand upon one of the last suitcases, neatly placing it beside the other bag.

[Hanoverian Great Britain]

"Without question", added Mary with a genuine snicker at the end. "You know, if you haven't grab a bite yet, you're into a round of ice creams? I think there is one around here, wouldn't be long", suggested Mary as her watchful eyes worked diligently to find the target area. However, she kept her attention focused to her new friend, as she went in for an another question. "Before we probably go into matters of siblings, anything in particular you want to know about me? I might be just slightly interesting and prolific as my sister Allie", asked Mary with a sense of intrigue, her blue eyes beaming in delight.

[Champagne Socialist Sharifistan]

Khalid headed to the hostel, his servant carrying the bags, “see you later, friend” he said to Athelhart.
Then he went to his room.
“Thank you” he said to his servant, handing him a £55 tip.

He wondered who he would share his room with, as he didn’t either know where his room would he as he walked to the lounge.

[AHSCA]

"The modern world?" Suuentliok asked, a quizzical expression on her face, "What's it like back home? Velstrania is ruled by a church which regularly engages in crusades...and that's not just like a crackdown on things they don't like...that's 30 legions going 'liberating' somewhere, so I doubt anything you could say could shock me."

"Aaah well..." She thought how to quickly and best put this something that wouldn't just put her home down as some kind of horrible place. "It's just AHSCA has never been an economical powerhouse and our geographic location, small land area, culture and a great deal of many other factors has meant were not as industrialized as most other places in the world. That's putting it very simple it'd probably take a long lecture to really dive into everything that makes our nation tick."

[Les Etats Connuriste]

St. Peadrus MacCallion

---

Sophomore, Lechle "Detlef" Capelle

(Image)

Gallagher-Blair Hostel - Grangemouth, Dalmashiel, Folaisia.
/ / / / /
(XX/03/2020) - Afternoon

---

"Huh."

For a moment it dawned on Lechle how little he accomplished during the bus ride over. He hadn't spent hours on the bus, yet he couldn't remember anything outside of waking up in it's pristine washroom, flask in hand.

"Can't speak for all of them really. Though I met someone who couldn't stand my nicotine-flavoured perfume."

"Right," Saoirse replied, tilting her head upward, "And what's with the business between you two and Khalid?"

Emmanuelle would have to see if Lechle had any more of his 'nicotine-flavoured perfume' later in the day, thinking that a smoke would be nice after unpacking all her belongings, or even better, just after dinner. She also thought that surely it would better be described as tobacco-flavoured perfume, as different brands of rolling tobacco didn't all taste the same, but she still very much got the point he was getting across all the same.

Emmanuelle imagined that Lechle might have something else quite witty to say to the woman interrogating them, and was half-tempted to carry on letting him do the talking, but truthfully she didn't want to draw out this line of questioning to be any longer than it had to be. If Saoirse had been watching and listening from a distance and had heard any of what Khalid had shouted at them, then Emmanuelle thought that perhaps it would be best for her to summarise, given that she seemed to have been what the dispute had been over.

"Khalid decided he had to defend my honour, why he thought that is completely beyond me." she explained, being careful to avoid adding any choice words to her sentence. "Anyway, it's resolved now."

[Danceria]

Larsa Solidor
Gallagher-Blair Hostel
1715hrs

---

-snope-

Keeping an eye on the Arab in question, as well as a certain British-Hanoverian Princess Larsa almost was certain he'd recognized, he mused for a moment. "The serf I'd be more than happy to room with. One learns more about the master through his servants than what he will overtly tell." Larsa concluded, citing an old proverb from Danceria when it came to regard almost any form of social situation. As for the second question, he'd hoist his own bags. "Besides, it appears this Moslem is already capable of carrying multitudes of pounds." he punned as he noted the Sharifistani spendthrift walking about with his head in the clouds. "Mark him well, a spendthrift in it's natural habitat." he nodded subtly at the Hanoverian lass. "And Her Highness, Princess Mary of the House of Hanover. If she follows in her elder sister's socialite footsteps, and if he's moderately intellectual, he may seek her next. That lass earlier could curdle a block of ice with that glare." he shuddered, his voice becoming more quiet as he fell into the sad cycle of social intrigue.

It was a very un-Dancerian (if one bothered to look to stereotypes as the norm) means of conduct, but sadly the upper crust of nobility had to at least pretend to be sly and savvy. If only to impress their foreign "peers". Nevertheless, Otto was shaping up to be an honest and forthright companion.

[Purgatio]

"Without question", added Mary with a genuine snicker at the end. "You know, if you haven't grab a bite yet, you're into a round of ice creams? I think there is one around here, wouldn't be long", suggested Mary as her watchful eyes worked diligently to find the target area. However, she kept her attention focused to her new friend, as she went in for an another question. "Before we probably go into matters of siblings, anything in particular you want to know about me? I might be just slightly interesting and prolific as my sister Allie", asked Mary with a sense of intrigue, her blue eyes beaming in delight.

"Oh?" Benoîst arched his right eyebrow in curiousity, lips curving upwards in a delighted grin, "I'd love to learn as much about you as possible, Your Grace - I, I mean, Mary..." He laughed at his mistake, "Sorry, I do that on impulse. Also, yes on the ice cream, let's grab a treat as you tell me as much as possible about you, I'm sure there's a ton that's interesting about you, Mary." Benoîst glanced in the direction of Galloway's ice cream store, gesturing to Mary and in its direction, "So, shall we?"

[Folaisia]

Emmanuelle would have to see if Lechle had any more of his 'nicotine-flavoured perfume' later in the day, thinking that a smoke would be nice after unpacking all her belongings, or even better, just after dinner. She also thought that surely it would better be described as tobacco-flavoured perfume, as different brands of rolling tobacco didn't all taste the same, but she still very much got the point he was getting across all the same.

Emmanuelle imagined that Lechle might have something else quite witty to say to the woman interrogating them, and was half-tempted to carry on letting him do the talking, but truthfully she didn't want to draw out this line of questioning to be any longer than it had to be. If Saoirse had been watching and listening from a distance and had heard any of what Khalid had shouted at them, then Emmanuelle thought that perhaps it would be best for her to summarise, given that she seemed to have been what the dispute had been over.

"Khalid decided he had to defend my honour, why he thought that is completely beyond me." she explained, being careful to avoid adding any choice words to her sentence. "Anyway, it's resolved now."

Saoirse nods.

"Alright, as long as the problem's resolved, everything should be bonnie. But, be sure to notify us if he ever decides to play the 'knight in shining armor' again. In the meantime, why don't you two start heading into the lobby. We don't want to keep them waiting."

Thanking them, she leaves to attend to Lechle's luggage, much to the apparent exhaustion displayed by the disheveled student that she took to be unusual.

“Not me, you.” He answered firmly. Niek’s hand gestured over to the other staff who were unloading baggage from the hold, and he tried to find a spot to help them get the remaining bags out. He’d been taught not to stand around and watch whilst others toiled, and quickly clenched one of the bags in the hold, lifting it and taking it out before carefully placing it on the curb. In his youth, Niek didn’t have all that much, and thus he learnt to be careful with other people’s belongings. He wouldn’t want his bag to be thrown about with no caution, so why would he do unto others what he doesn’t want done unto him? He straightened his back, and once he was about to get another bag, he coincidentally locked eyes with Ciorstan, to whom he argued: “More people working; less work.” a bright grin ran from cheek to cheek, and he quickly laid his hand upon one of the last suitcases, neatly placing it beside the other bag.

Ciorstan chuckled softly, flattered mostly at his grin and reply. She then assists Niek with the rest of his luggage.

"Say, may I ask where you're from, if that not much of a bother," she inquired.

"Oh?" Benoîst arched his right eyebrow in curiousity, lips curving upwards in a delighted grin, "I'd love to learn as much about you as possible, Your Grace - I, I mean, Mary..." He laughed at his mistake, "Sorry, I do that on impulse. Also, yes on the ice cream, let's grab a treat as you tell me as much as possible about you, I'm sure there's a ton that's interesting about you, Mary." Benoîst glanced in the direction of Galloway's ice cream store, gesturing to Mary and in its direction, "So, shall we?"

As he suggested others to head to the lobby, Alpin could see that there were two students that were heading off from the hostel building. Seeing this, he strolls over to them.

"Oi! Where do you think you two are going," he called out, "The lobby's this way."

[Champagne Socialist Sharifistan]

Khalid Ali Khan waits pensively in the lobby, soon his fellow students would arrive.
His loyal manservant followed him into the lobby.

He is armed with pepper spray, concealed as per the law.

[Purgatio]

As he suggested others to head to the lobby, Alpin could see that there were two students that were heading off from the hostel building. Seeing this, he strolls over to them.

"Oi! Where do you think you two are going," he called out, "The lobby's this way."

"Oh?" Benoîst halted abruptly in his tracks, as he heard this man call out in his direction, directing him to head over to the lobby, "Je suis désolé pour ces dérangements, Monsieur. I didn't realise we were on such a tight schedule, I was just hoping I could head for a scoop of ice cream with my friend here..." Benoîst gestured at Princess Mary to indicate her, "But if you insist, I suppose its best if I were to head over into the lobby. My mistake. Come on, um, Mary...." Benoîst paused, it was still fairly awkward to refer to Her Royal Highness by her first name as she requested, without a title, it jarred with every rule of etiquette and decorum and social graces that was imbued in his person, but he also wanted to come across as casual, not overly-formalistic, "Let's head over into the lobby, shall we? We could carry on this conversation there, I'm still very much intrigued to learn more about you and your history." He surmised, as he walked into the direction of the hotel lobby, indicating for Mary to follow him.

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Larsa Solidor
Gallagher-Blair Hostel
1715hrs

---

-snope-

Keeping an eye on the Arab in question, as well as a certain British-Hanoverian Princess Larsa almost was certain he'd recognized, he mused for a moment. "The serf I'd be more than happy to room with. One learns more about the master through his servants than what he will overtly tell." Larsa concluded, citing an old proverb from Danceria when it came to regard almost any form of social situation. As for the second question, he'd hoist his own bags. "Besides, it appears this Moslem is already capable of carrying multitudes of pounds." he punned as he noted the Sharifistani spendthrift walking about with his head in the clouds. "Mark him well, a spendthrift in it's natural habitat." he nodded subtly at the Hanoverian lass. "And Her Highness, Princess Mary of the House of Hanover. If she follows in her elder sister's socialite footsteps, and if he's moderately intellectual, he may seek her next. That lass earlier could curdle a block of ice with that glare." he shuddered, his voice becoming more quiet as he fell into the sad cycle of social intrigue.

It was a very un-Dancerian (if one bothered to look to stereotypes as the norm) means of conduct, but sadly the upper crust of nobility had to at least pretend to be sly and savvy. If only to impress their foreign "peers". Nevertheless, Otto was shaping up to be an honest and forthright companion.

Otto raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "A socialite? As they say back home-It's merely Latin for a whore and German for a nitwit. Still, if she's a daughter of the Aenglisch...well, those plucky little island bastards taught us how to fight. But I, personally, am not inclined to balls and gatherings, or the sort of people who attend them as their sole purpose..." He squinted at the receding British royal, as he hefted his bags. "Say, why the hell is she headin' away from the hotel with...who's that?"

---

Helena Fischer
In absence of any other students nearby to talk to, the young girl merely entered the lobby and set down her bags and case.
Since she sensed that it might be a little while before anything would actually get done, she took the liberty of turning to her case, and unlocking it, before extracting the guitar open.

With that done, she closed the case, sat down on it, and began playing a little ditty that she had learned from a friend.

[Danceria]

Larsa Solidor
Gallagher-Blair Hostel
1715hrs

---

Otto raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "A socialite? As they say back home-It's merely Latin for a whore and German for a nitwit. Still, if she's a daughter of the Aenglisch...well, those plucky little island bastards taught us how to fight. But I, personally, am not inclined to balls and gatherings, or the sort of people who attend them as their sole purpose..." He squinted at the receding British royal, as he hefted his bags. "Say, why the hell is she headin' away from the hotel with...who's that?"

[/quote]

"I don't recognize her, put if I have to hazard a guess..." Larsa began, before being distracted briefly by the sound of guitars. "Not a good enough excuse to follow suit. We should try to be better than the Saracen, not mimic him." he concluded. Turning to the source of the guitar playing, he asked the lass simply. "That's...Säkkijärven, if I'm right? You play quite well!" he complimented, his Finnish not quite native but surprisingly well pronounced.

[Greater vakolicci haven]

by the way, could you work out a room arrangement by which the boys and suuentliok are divided into equal rooms please? Because her mother will insist she's a boy, she has ID proving she's a boy and it would be nice if I didn't have to have her on her own.

[Purgatio]

by the way, could you work out a room arrangement by which the boys and suuentliok are divided into equal rooms please? Because her mother will insist she's a boy, she has ID proving she's a boy and it would be nice if I didn't have to have her on her own.

OOC: Didn't you tell a different poster on here to keep OOC comments confined to the OOC thread?

[Camelone]

Hearing it, Khalid Ali walked towards the “scumbag”, accompanied by his loyal manservant.

“Hey! Leave that girl the hell alone, ok? Rapist bastard!”

“Thank you.” Said Khalid.
Then he turned to the girl “see I was trying help but turns out I don’t need to...”

“... you’re a strong woman.”

After helping Athelhart, Saoirse greeted him and suggested for him to start heading to the lobby. Adjusting her hair, she stood watching the students grabbing their luggage, looming with an invisible aura, until a recent outburst from what seems to be Khalid was audible enough to make her turn her head suddenly. Saoirse observed the commotion between Khalid, Lechle and Emmanuelle, staring for a little while with a repressed vexation. She then turned to Alpin who glanced at her with plausible suggestion, and shrugged it off before walking to the three.

"Is there a problem over here," she asked.

After getting all of his luggage Athelhart opened up his rucksack and began rummaging through it for something, after a few seconds of rummaging he picked out a bracer of some sort and began strapping it onto his arm. With a few tugs he made sure it was secure before he unhooked the screen protector and checked to see if the keyboard swung out and locked in place properly. His fingers flew across the keyboard quickly, satisfied he swung the keyboard back down and took out his an earbud from the bracer and placed it in his ear connecting it to the bracer with a few taps on the screen before a very faint sound of electric guitars and heavy drums could be heard. Picking up his stuff, he tossed his rucksack behind him and grabbed the handles for his suitcase and his guitar case before making his way to the lobby, his head moving back and forth to the music and smile back on his face.

At the lobby he noticed someone playing with their and he made his way over to Helena, though he did not know that was her name. Setting his things down next to her he paused his music and asked her "Another guitarist I take?" A smile on his face as he held his guitar case in his hands.

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Larsa Solidor
Gallagher-Blair Hostel
1715hrs

---

Otto raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "A socialite? As they say back home-It's merely Latin for a whore and German for a nitwit. Still, if she's a daughter of the Aenglisch...well, those plucky little island bastards taught us how to fight. But I, personally, am not inclined to balls and gatherings, or the sort of people who attend them as their sole purpose..." He squinted at the receding British royal, as he hefted his bags. "Say, why the hell is she headin' away from the hotel with...who's that?"

"I don't recognize her, put if I have to hazard a guess..." Larsa began, before being distracted briefly by the sound of guitars. "Not a good enough excuse to follow suit. We should try to be better than the Saracen, not mimic him." he concluded. Turning to the source of the guitar playing, he asked the lass simply. "That's...Säkkijärven, if I'm right? You play quite well!" he complimented, his Finnish not quite native but surprisingly well pronounced.[/quote]

Otto and Helena
Otto nodded. "Aye, aye."
The sound of the guitar playing caught his attention as well, and he turned to it, entranced.
When the young lass finished her song, she opened her eyes and glanced up at the Dancerian.
She gave a single, curt nod, as well as a quiet 'Thanks.', before closing her eyes again, and beginning anew.

Metro 2013? Otto thought to himself. He wasn't one for video games, but he swore that he had heard that song somewhere in a game a classmate had on his laptop that had a name like that.


When she finished playing, she glanced at Athelhart. "Yes." she replied, returning his smile. "How many years you been playing? 8 for me."

[Camelone]

Larsa Solidor
Gallagher-Blair Hostel
1715hrs

---

"I don't recognize her, put if I have to hazard a guess..." Larsa began, before being distracted briefly by the sound of guitars. "Not a good enough excuse to follow suit. We should try to be better than the Saracen, not mimic him." he concluded. Turning to the source of the guitar playing, he asked the lass simply. "That's...Säkkijärven, if I'm right? You play quite well!" he complimented, his Finnish not quite native but surprisingly well pronounced.

Otto and Helena
Otto nodded. "Aye, aye."
The sound of the guitar playing caught his attention as well, and he turned to it, entranced.
When the young lass finished her song, she opened her eyes and glanced up at the Dancerian.
She gave a single, curt nod, as well as a quiet 'Thanks.', before closing her eyes again, and beginning anew.

Metro 2013? Otto thought to himself. He wasn't one for video games, but he swore that he had heard that song somewhere in a game a classmate had on his laptop that had a name like that.


When she finished playing, she glanced at Athelhart. "Yes." she replied. "How many years you been playing? 8 for me."

"Excellent." Athelhart said gingerly placing his case on the ground and taking out a pristine black electric guitar, a small painting of the End Times was on the back which he showed briefly before turning it back over again. "The guitar I have been playing for 3 years but I have been playing string instruments since I was a wee wee lad, I think around 8 years old if I recall correctly.

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Otto and Helena
Otto nodded. "Aye, aye."
The sound of the guitar playing caught his attention as well, and he turned to it, entranced.
When the young lass finished her song, she opened her eyes and glanced up at the Dancerian.
She gave a single, curt nod, as well as a quiet 'Thanks.', before closing her eyes again, and beginning anew.

Metro 2013? Otto thought to himself. He wasn't one for video games, but he swore that he had heard that song somewhere in a game a classmate had on his laptop that had a name like that.


When she finished playing, she glanced at Athelhart. "Yes." she replied. "How many years you been playing? 8 for me."

"Excellent." Athelhart said gingerly placing his case on the ground and taking out a pristine black electric guitar, a small painting of the End Times was on the back which he showed briefly before turning it back over again. "The guitar I have been playing for 3 years but I have been playing string instruments since I was a wee wee lad, I think around 8 years old if I recall correctly.

"Not bad." Helena replied, as she adjusted the strings on her own, wooden 'classical' guitar, shorn of any decoration. "Violin? Fiddle? Cello? Something else? I've only ever learned to play this, but it's all I really need."

[Camelone]

"Excellent." Athelhart said gingerly placing his case on the ground and taking out a pristine black electric guitar, a small painting of the End Times was on the back which he showed briefly before turning it back over again. "The guitar I have been playing for 3 years but I have been playing string instruments since I was a wee wee lad, I think around 8 years old if I recall correctly.

"Not bad." Helena replied, as she adjusted the strings on her own, wooden 'classical' guitar, shorn of any decoration. "Violin? Fiddle? Cello? Something else? I've only ever learned to play this, but it's all I really need."

"The lyre. My family have been important members of the lodge since I can remember so one of the things expected of the sons is to learn an instrument to perform for said lodge. Music is pretty important back home but no one really appreciated it when I retired the lyre to play the guitar. Doesn't have the best reputation back home." Athelhart explained strumming a few chords and adjusting the strings afterwards.

[Nouveau Quebecois]

St. Peadrus MacCallion

---

Sophomore, Lechle "Detlef" Capelle

Gallagher-Blair Hostel - Grangemouth, Dalmashiel, Folaisia.
/ / / / /
(XX/03/2020) - Afternoon

---

Saoirse nods.

"Alright, as long as the problem's resolved, everything should be bonnie. But, be sure to notify us if he ever decides to play the 'knight in shining armor' again. In the meantime, why don't you two start heading into the lobby. We don't want to keep them waiting."

Thanking them, she leaves to attend to Lechle's luggage, much to the apparent exhaustion displayed by the disheveled student that she took to be unusual.

"Ttthhhank you."

Gratefully, Lechle gave a polite nod to the chaperone and returned his gaze to Emmanuelle. He had continued high hopes for the unruly shenanigans they could catch themselves in but he understood it was important not to push things. They had plenty of time to kill in Folaisia, and it was most likely they'd see together whenever dinner came. He excused himself to the lobby, giving Emmanuelle the opportunity to vacate if she'd like, though she wouldn't be vacating his mind anytime soon.

"I better follow the herd into the lobby. If I'm lucky, I'll see you at dinner."

[Danceria]

Larsa Solidor
Gallagher-Blair Hostel
1715hrs

---

"Not bad." Helena replied, as she adjusted the strings on her own, wooden 'classical' guitar, shorn of any decoration. "Violin? Fiddle? Cello? Something else? I've only ever learned to play this, but it's all I really need."

"The lyre. My family have been important members of the lodge since I can remember so one of the things expected of the sons is to learn an instrument to perform for said lodge. Music is pretty important back home but no one really appreciated it when I retired the lyre to play the guitar. Doesn't have the best reputation back home." Athelhart explained strumming a few chords and adjusting the strings afterwards.

"A lyre?" Larsa piqued up. "What's wrong with playing a lyre? Did the folks back at home not think you a truther?" the young Prince punned and quickly inserted a quip in. If there was one thing a Dancerian enjoyed, it was a good round of rustic music. Archades of course was more Greek and Eastern in terms of musical culture, having been long since influenced by the Byzantine colonists.