St. Peadrus MacCallion Exchange Program REBOOTED (IC)

by **Polish Prussian Commonwealth** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 2:43 pm

"Tah' name's Otto," he replied, bowing his head. "I'm from the Chess Empire, Kingdom of Lignea...Yer from Danceria, roight? You seem like 'em. Saw a couple 'o you blokes as a kid."
He sat down and scooted in a little, seeming entirely the part of a nervous freshman, until...

Otto turned back to the nobleman. "Okay, Mohammedan. Get the fucking stick out of your ass." he quietly replied, before turning back to Larsa. "Sorry, where were we?"

by **Champagne Socialist Sharifistan** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 2:44 pm

Camelone wrote:
Champagne Socialist Sharifistan wrote:
The young nobleman, whose faced turned into a snarl like his Alsatian, thought for a while of a response to match his curt tone.
He read his adversary’s face to ascertain the strength of his heart and then said
“You didn’t say thank you. Where I’m from people are mostly grateful to me.”

Athelhart stood up and turned around "Listen right now lad, get off your damn high horse. I'm not going to be grateful for your mere presence, I'm a Camelonean, I'm a fuckin freeman, even our nobility and lords have to earn the respect they are given in some way. I have no ties to you, your family, or your country so no I'm not going to be grateful for your presence when your first response to seeing our female classmates was not an introduction and a hello but a flirt. Instead of reacting to me you say 'you ok, kid?' which I was fine with, just meant you were oblivious to what you said and that can be forgiven but now you demand respect without doing a damn thing to deserve it. I will apologize for this due to you coming from such a vastly different part of the world and not to be a giant asshole but I think you need a major culture check. Now if you would excuse me I would like to put this behind us." He said, his voice was calm and clear though there was an edge of aggression in his tone. With that said Athelhart sat down in the seat across the aisle from Verity, keeping his eyes on the guy.

“You seem a tough guy,I like you,
Your dad in the forces?”

by **Camelone** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 2:52 pm

Well Athelhart wasn't expecting that type of reaction from a guy who was told off, and a teasa to boot. Seems like this guy may be a little tougher than he had first thought which is a good thing because it allowed the situation to more naturally defuse and not make a scene. Perhaps this guy had something to him, just had to work on how to talk to ladies without seeming to creepy.

"Thanks. My father is an electrician, serves in the town levy as every able bodied man but he's just a rifleman and is only expected to defend the town and help restore order if the police lose control. Both bein highly unlikely occurrences so just an electrician. You?" He asked, knowing there was no need to begin escalating things again.

by **Champagne Socialist Sharifistan** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 2:59 pm

Camelone wrote:
Champagne Socialist Sharifistan wrote:“You seem a tough guy,I like you,
Your dad in the forces?”

Well Athelhart wasn't expecting that type of reaction from a guy who was told off, and a teasa to boot. Seems like this guy may be a little tougher than he had first thought which is a good thing because it allowed the situation to more naturally defuse and not make a scene. Perhaps this guy had something to him, just had to work on how to talk to ladies without seeming to creepy.

"Thanks. My father is an electrician, serves in the town levy as every able bodied man but he's just a rifleman and is only expected to defend the town and help restore order if the police lose control. Both bein highly unlikely occurrences so just an electrician. You?" He asked, knowing there was no need to begin escalating things again.

“My dad is an officer in the Army, reconnaissance.”

by **Champagne Socialist Sharifistan** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 2:59 pm

Camelone wrote:
Champagne Socialist Sharifistan wrote:“You seem a tough guy,I like you,
Your dad in the forces?”

Well Athelhart wasn't expecting that type of reaction from a guy who was told off, and a teasa to boot. Seems like this guy may be a little tougher than he had first thought which is a good thing because it allowed the situation to more naturally defuse and not make a scene. Perhaps this guy had something to him, just had to work on how to talk to ladies without seeming to creepy.

"Thanks. My father is an electrician, serves in the town levy as every able bodied man but he's just a rifleman and is only expected to defend the town and help restore order if the police lose control. Both bein highly unlikely occurrences so just an electrician. You?" He asked, knowing there was no need to begin escalating things again.

“Electrician is a good trade.
He must have done a long apprenticeship.”

by **Champagne Socialist Sharifistan** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 3:12 pm

Camelone wrote:
Champagne Socialist Sharifistan wrote:“You seem a tough guy,I like you,
Your dad in the forces?”

Well Athelhart wasn't expecting that type of reaction from a guy who was told off, and a teasa to boot. Seems like this guy may be a little tougher than he had first thought which is a good thing because it allowed the situation to more naturally defuse and not make a scene. Perhaps this guy had something to him, just had to work on how to talk to ladies without seeming to creepy.

"Thanks. My father is an electrician, serves in the town levy as every able bodied man but he's just a rifleman and is only expected to defend the town and help restore order if the police lose control. Both bein highly unlikely occurrences so just an electrician. You?" He asked, knowing there was no need to begin escalating things again.

“What’s your name, bro?”

by **Danceria** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 6:23 pm

Polish Prussian Commonwealth wrote:"Tah' name's Otto," he replied, bowing his head. "I'm from the Chess Empire, Kingdom of Lignea...Yer from Danceria, roight? You seem like 'em. Saw a couple 'o you blokes as a kid."

Larsa nodded. "Archades, more specifically." he stated cocking his head. "Never heard of the "Chess Empire"..." after a curt outburst from "Otto" in order to finally quell the Saracen's snootiness, it seemed that the situation would be further moderated by the cheerful Camelonean. Turning back to his newfound companion, Larsa continued. "You remind me of a Prusso-Pole..."

by **Polish Prussian Commonwealth** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 6:43 pm

Otto seemed suprised. "Really? Prince Aceus paid us a visit a decade back for a month or two. Made friends with my si-"
Otto abruptly shut himself down, and was quiet for a moment, before starting up again. "Regardless, people back home haven't really heard of you lot back home...But we're both aware of Prussia-Poland, it seems..."

by **Danceria** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 6:51 pm

Polish Prussian Commonwealth wrote:Otto seemed suprised. "Really? Prince Aceus paid us a visit a decade back for a month or two. Made friends with my si-"
Otto abruptly shut himself down, and was quiet for a moment, before starting up again. "Regardless, people back home haven't really heard of you lot back home...But we're both aware of Prussia-Poland, it seems..."

It was already too late, the curiosity of the Archadean Prince was piqued, but kept well hidden. He would of course ask about it later, and more indirectly. What His Majesty did in the past was-well-not Larsa's business per se. His elder brother however, insisted to keep an eye on the reigning monarch.

"Well I hope to change that, for the better." Larsa answered. "Seems like we both are acquainted with those who strap hussar wings to their 7TPs and consecrate their carbines." he japed in good fun. The two nations had become fast friends in the mid-twentieth century, with the turn of the 1800s seeing the Commonwealth as one of Danceria's chiefest acquaintances in Europe.

by **Nouveau Quebecois** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 7:05 pm

St. Peadrus MacCallion
Sophomore, Lechle "Detlef" Capelle

Grangemouth, Dalmashiel, Folaisia - Road to St. Peadrus MacCallion.
Crystal Castles - Magic Spells
March 12, 2020 - Afternoon

Lechle's eyes shot open as his head hit the side of this claustrophobic MacCallion bus, which flew over a bump in the otherwise flawless Folaisian roads. Lechle took a moment to compose himself, staring at the fixed ceiling light which made him feel hot and congested. He couldn't have been in the bathroom for long, but his head in the wall hard, and now he had to make a quick exit before a stranger starts asking questions, namely if he was okay.

"Oh God. What magic spells did I put myself under today?"

He put his head in his hands and moaned, before diverting his gaze to the toilet bowl he was resting against, confirming he didn't lose himself to it, then to an empty tin flask which rolled by his feet. Lechle promptly capped and stuffed it into his black leather jacket, worn over years of use but still casual in the sense that it conceals dirt. Lechle took another sobering breath, fixed his hair best he could, and gripped the bathroom walls to pull himself up.

Lechle, with great difficulty, staggered to his feet. His school shoes matched his black jeans, which required a pat-down of dust. He found himself face to face with his reflection in the stained mirror, and glared into his own bloodshot eyes.

"I'll be fine. I've always been fine. I'll continue to be fine."

Lechle, unlocked the bathroom and stepped out into a rush of cool air. The open windows on the speeding bus made way for a gust of strong headwind and a blinding orange sun. It was a welcomed refreshing sensation. He gazed to his flanks to witness a few senior's concerned stares but nothing of suspicion. He spoke to his audience.

"Spent so much time doing my hair. But you all left the windows down."

Nobody smiled. Nobody laughed. Lechle adjusted his jacket, gave a statement of conferment, then proceeded forwards through the bus.

Polish Prussian Commonwealth wrote:
Danceria wrote:Larsa nodded. "Archades, more specifically." he stated cocking his head. "Never heard of the "Chess Empire"..." after a curt outburst from "Otto" in order to finally quell the Saracen's snootiness, it seemed that the situation would be further moderated by the cheerful Camelonean. Turning back to his newfound companion, Larsa continued. "You remind me of a Prusso-Pole..."

Otto seemed suprised. "Really? Prince Aceus paid us a visit a decade back for a month or two. Made friends with my si-"
Otto abruptly shut himself down, and was quiet for a moment, before starting up again. "Regardless, people back home haven't really heard of you lot back home...But we're both aware of Prussia-Poland, it seems..."

Danceria wrote:
Polish Prussian Commonwealth wrote:Otto seemed suprised. "Really? Prince Aceus paid us a visit a decade back for a month or two. Made friends with my si-"
Otto abruptly shut himself down, and was quiet for a moment, before starting up again. "Regardless, people back home haven't really heard of you lot back home...But we're both aware of Prussia-Poland, it seems..."

It was already too late, the curiosity of the Archadean Prince was piqued, but kept well hidden. He would of course ask about it later, and more indirectly. What His Majesty did in the past was-well-not Larsa's business per se. His elder brother however, insisted to keep an eye on the reigning monarch.

"Well I hope to change that, for the better." Larsa answered. "Seems like we both are acquainted with those who strap hussar wings to their 7TPs and consecrate their carbines." he japed in good fun. The two nations had become fast friends in the mid-twentieth century, with the turn of the 1800s seeing the Commonwealth as one of Danceria's chiefest acquaintances in Europe.

Ahead of himself, he noticed two conversing students who spilled into the walkway. Though he was not one for conversation, Lechle was confident in his ability to simply request passage to his seating. He looked like a mess, but if he could just act like a student, he'd be fine. He coughed up a hick, popped a breath mint, and tapped the students on the back. Alright. Be loud. Exert confidence. Control the situation.

"Hey. Hey guys. Excuse me. Hello. Hey? ... Hey! ... You guys are blocking the path. I'd like to get past, just need to get to my seat."

He had to raise his voice enough that it echoed through the bus.

by **Cybernetic Socialist Republics** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 7:09 pm

Camelone wrote:Athelhart raised his eyebrow and his face become sullen for a second before he recomposed himself at the name of the country that Verity hailed from "Union of Cybernetic Socialist Republics, the UCSR? I've always been told any shade of red ain't the best to have, especially with the body count they built up back in the fatherland, but as long as you don't start preachin to me we'll be fine." He said thinking about the history he learned about the 30 odd year civil war that ravaged Camelone from '67 to '93 where the socialists and communists plunged the High Kingdom into a war which killed off 10% to 15% of the population. "Regardless of that it is a true pleasure to make your acquaintance." Another sincere smile forming on his face.

"Now as for the tavern oath from the lads back in Came-LONE" he stressed the last part to correct her pronouncement without being a jerk about it. "It is more or less open to the public as a whole as each tavern, or network of taverns, has them posted somewhere in the building or available online and the like. Mine is the Stanstir Hornet Tavern, which you can probably figure out that is a part of a network of tavern's. The tavern oath I have sworn goes as such. I solemnly swear upon the name of my clan, and my dignity as a man, to uphold all things that I hereby utter and swear, so that all my deeds and words may bring honor to you my brothers and to the reputation of my clan. Now I pledge that even though I be small in the great game of life I shall not let my spirit be conquered, I shall let my voice spill forth mirth to foe and friend. By my father I shall stand strong in spirit, my words as sharp as a beautiful blade, my restraint to delight in the victory of causing my foe to become a slave and strike me first with no retaliation from my soul. By my mother I shall treat any lass and lady as if they were my kin, to instill fear in the hearts of the pervert and fornicator, to be kind and courteous to them so that they may live their lives peacefully. By my community I shall brawl with you my brothers and all my violence shall be directed towards defense, entertainment, or the protection of honor. I beg of each and every one of you my brothers to support me in this endeavor, to be a man who riots and brawls for the sake of the folk, to honor the ancestors with our mighty deeds, to kneel to Christ alone and acknowledge the proper lords and officials, holding them to the fist and gun if they forget who they are dealing with. Let the poems of my heart and the songs of unity and conflict bellow through these hallowed walls of fellowship now and forevermore with the clink of tankards and a flood of mead. To victory and mead." Athelhart recited from memory, his eyes closed in concentration, and explained "Before every night of merriment we recite the oath together and conclude the night with one of the three Christian creeds."

After the explanation he turned his head to the attempted prince charming "Yep perfectly fine." Keeping the exchange curt and crisp, there was no need to expand any further with the lad, though the use of kid was hilarious his mind. The guy didn't even recognize what he did.

As Verity listened to Athelhart, she made sure that she didn't roll her eyes at the whole 'socialism killed 25 quintillion" schtick. Part of her felt like launching into the whole 'deaths through poverty and famine are very much part of capitalism's death toll and are in no way acts of god' response she'd learned in schooling, but now wasn't really the place for such a philosophical argument, particularly since this boy was trying to be tolerant of her, obviously his nation had a violent history with socialist guerillas and there was no way at the moment to soft peddle that it was probably mostly justified.

She then listened to the lengthy 'tavern oath' the boy recited, despite making a show of listening intently, as he spoke she found herself regretting that she had asked about a third of the way into his recital.

The general theme was the typical feudal claptrap that she'd have expected from him based on his attire and accent, filled with notions of 'nobility' and 'justice' that were firmly tied to the idea of subservience to one's masters and dominance of one's 'lessers'. Not that Verity was against justified hierarchies (she'd be a hypocrite if she was, as she was well on track to being on the upper end of the hierarchy in her own country), but no hierarchy based ownership of property or noble titles by birth could ever be justified.

Speaking of feudal claptrap, she watched the arab that had catvalled her end up in an argument with Athelhart. Apparently 'Backpfeifengesicht', as she still nicknamed him, Verity still less interested in his actual name than hoping that her nickname for him might eventually be fulfilled. Apparently he expected Athelhart (and presumably her as well) to be grateful to be in his presence, as he was some type of nobility. This was followed up with a long winded response that could be more succiently be summarized as 'I'm not your subject', but instead it eventually ran of into vaguely xenophobic territory. As far as Verity was concerned all nobles the world over thought like him, this particular kid just lacked the impulse control to avoid saying it out loud.

However, the arab backed down almost as quickly as he began this argument. He was a paper tiger. Verity had to remember to take note of that, the next time he was rude with her, she'd just respond in both an assertive and condescending manner. That was something she was good at and very much enjoyed doing anyway.

Additionally she noticed the boy she nicknamed goldilocks turned around and cursed out the arab as a "Mohammedan". Again she had to avoid rolling her eyes, this blond kid was that type of person. Not that she didn't enjoy people swearing at this 'noble', or really any noble, but she didn't enjoy people throwing around religious slurs.

In listening on the Athelhart's conversation with the now tamed paper tiger, she did learn a few new things, that he was the son of an officer (insofar as presumably royally commissioned soldiers could really be assumed to be effective officers), so that must have accounted for some measure of his arrogance.

Verity also learned that Athelhart's dad worked as an electrician, meaning his country of birth couldn't be all that backwards, maybe there was hope that historical progress would triumph there soon enough.

Verity picked her smartphone back up to continue note-taking, as she continued listening into their conversation. Verity didn't mind that Athelhart stood up for her, nore that he was sitting across the aisle from her, what she didn't appreciate was why. In all likelihood he thought she was a 'lass' that needed her "honour" to be protected by him from this boy.

Verity was by no means going to complain about this, the ride wouldn't be much longer anyway and perhaps she was leaping to conclusions, but though she hid it well, she found herself having a simmering disdain for Athelhart treating her as some soft damsel in distress. She was more than capable of holding her own among these students without needing to be protected as if she were his kin, or whatever his drunkard's pledge said. That wasn't something to be said in words, however, but shown in actions and she'd have plenty of time to do so for the duration of the student exchange.

by **Folaisia** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 10:51 pm

Nouveau Quebecois wrote:...

He had to raise his voice enough that it echoed through the bus.

Stella McNeill had eyes on the road with a stern tranquility that resided for minutes on end. Of course, there was the apparent outburst of the Sharifistani student, but it never perturbed her as much as her cheerful conversations. However, by looking at one untidy student staggering to the front of the bus through the rear-view, Stella could not help, but express her concern.

"'Ey, you," she called out, "Unless you're planning to cowk your insides right now, I suggest you take your seat. And what's with you, by the way? You look like you've drunk a bottle of whiskey in one sitting and got yersel' a hangover!"

by **Greater vakolicci haven** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 11:30 pm

Suuentliok nos Karelminor

It felt strange for just her and Tarin to be away from Velstrania alone, Suuentliok thought as she managed to get the last of her bags into the busses crowded cargo area, no family...no photographers, no security; no pressure to be the perfect reflection of her mother. She stood, or tried to; her height made getting to her full height impossible, and found herself a seat near the centre of the bus. Pausing only to offer a quite exquisite glare of death to a rather rude and tactless arab boy who had already seen fit to catcall her. 'I am over a foot taller than you,' she thought to herself, 'I have served in the military, I have been taught to hurt people since I was 4. Don't try that again please.'
Gazing around the bus, she found her eyes drawn to a very untidy-looking boy who had just emerged from the toilet, he looked dazed...no, not dazed she realised...pissed. He looked pissed. This was going to be a lot of fun; if this was one of those draconian places that would stop him from getting alcohol under a certain age, her place as the daughter of a major passport issuer might lead to a useful friend amongst the students. She pointed him out to Tarin
"Reckon he's alright?" she asked, "Doesn't look it."

by **Vrijstaat Limburg** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 11:37 pm

Dominicus Schmeetz
BUS TO THE HOSTEL

Schmeetz had tried to ignore all the fuss going on around him. The friendly and joyful chatter he liked and could tolerate easily, even if he’d grown a bit grumpy and weary after a long flight, but the catty back-and-forth that could easily be noticed further down the bus aisle started to annoy him ever so slightly. Niek’s English was far from school standards, and thus he couldn’t really understand what was going on. He didn’t care much for those squabbles anyway. The only thing that seemed funny to him was the age difference. A boy whom he expected to be thirteen, maybe fourteen, seemingly picking a fight with someone Niek’s age did make him grimace a bit.

The Limburger was then relieved to find out that the conflict had resolved itself. He could clearly hear the noise and sneering die off, which made him think that things had become cordial between the Mussulman and those around him. Then, unexpectedly, he heard another voice quite clearly. Unsure of what was happening, Niek raised his head and watched as another boy, this one clad in all-black clothing, tried to make his way down the aisle of the bus. This congregation of different nationalities and groups certainly was a bit of a culture shock to Niek. He heard some stories of these “goths” or “goffs” or whatever they wanted to call themselves. Apparently they were all bad, evil satanists that wanted to rebel against the state and destroy it, or something like that.

Niek’s worldview was obviously somewhat tainted by his education at the Free Limburgs Legion and the first “state school”, a crypto-totalitarian institution that taught kids how to serve their country, which is why he was originally sent off to St. Peadrus, to attend a school that offered a better, more inclusive education.

Schmeetz could hear that the bus driver was unhappy with the situation, but his lack of familiarity with the English language made it so that he couldn’t comprehend her thick accent. He found it spectacular that women drove buses in Folaisia. Back home, bus drivers were regularly just old men. The job didn’t have any career prospects, and it simply didn’t pay well. All the bus drivers that drove their buses around before the war for independence now had to squabble to save their jobs, with the lack of public transport and all. Dom could hardly understand why any woman would choose this work over becoming a mother, but he quickly abandoned the thought and returned to staring out his window, wondering when they would finally arrive at the school.

by **Holy Marsh** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 12:13 am

Tarin's head was rested contentedly on Suuen's lap, the rest of his body curled up nearby and on her. It was a good place to be. All this travel had been half as exciting as he thought it would be and four times as stressful. So many new faces, new questions, new smells and new security measures. He was a mix of pent-up energy and jet lag and found comfort and safety next to Suuen and little else. To be selected by his favorite of all the Karelminor masters and mistresses was no shock considering how close they were. He was to be her companion during this foreign schooling, and he had yipped for joy when it was confirmed. Suuen needed no help or support but she deserved it anyway, and he was so much happier when she was around. Curled up on and near her lap, he breathed slowly and warmly and allowed himself to drift slowly into a nice, subdued rest.
Then she spoke and he snapped to attention, broken from his delighted stupor as Suuen asked for his input. He turned to face the man in question and it didn't take long.

He smelled. Beyond what others could sense, Tarin's nostrils and even tongue seemed to flare with unpleasant odors. Cigarettes and alcohol weren't necessarily problems on their own but this young man was positively drenched in it. Did he have addiction issues? His clothes had a deep-set stink to them that Tarin couldn't place. Drugs? Alcohol? Of course, but years of it. Worn and worn often at that. The mint he popped tried to hide the fact he seemed to have had a dirty mouth. Bloodshot eyes didn't shake the image any. Tarin eyed the man up and down quickly, nostrils flared briefly, and then his eyes shot back up to Suuen. "Either drunk, high, or both recently," he said softly, "and he smells and looks like someone who would be a bad time," Tarin said before he moved his had back down to her lap. "Not that I expect that to deter you. He needs water and rest," he finished as he rolled his shoulders and started pulling himself up, arching his back as best he could and unfurling his long, blue tail. He supposed a rest could wait.

by **Greater vakolicci haven** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 4:30 am

Suuentliok nos Karelminor

Suuentliok nodded at Tarin's words: they only served to confirm what she herself had guessed, and she gathered herself for what might be an unpleasant conversation. Waiting until Tarin was fully out of his favourite position curled around her, she put her bag on her shoulder and stood, just expecting Tarin to follow her. The driver had shouted at the boy with the issues, but as of yet he hadn't seemed to have been effected by it. Whether seing a 7 foot tall girl accompanied by a half-fox creature walking up to him would make him react, or just convince him he was having the best trip of his life was yet to be seen, however she walked as gracefully as she could in his direction, one hand falling gently but firmly on his shoulder.
"Might want to find a seat," she told him, guiding him in a friendly but irresistible fashion backwards, "Come on, there's one free near us. I accidentally bought male deodorant at the airport..." she sniffed, Tarin was not wrong "That's yours now, and I've got something for your hangover. Works wonders. My name is Suuentliok by the way, this is Tarin. What's yours?"

by **Champagne Socialist Sharifistan** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 9:41 am

OOC: Would he be allowed to bring his servant with him?

His servant is not a slave but a 17 year old free peasant provided political education, food, accommodation and ,of course, wages in exchange for helping his family.

by **Greater vakolicci haven** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 10:00 am

Champagne Socialist Sharifistan wrote:OOC: Would he be allowed to bring his servant with him?

His servant is not a slave but a 17 year old free peasant provided political education, food, accommodation and ,of course, wages in exchange for helping his family.

((OOC: OOC comments belong on the OOC thread, the one you signed up on.))

by **Nouveau Quebecois** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 10:40 am

St. Peadrus MacCallion
Sophomore, Lechle "Detlef" Capelle

Grangemouth, Dalmashiel, Folaisia - Road to St. Peadrus MacCallion.
/ / / / /
March 12, 2020 - Afternoon

Greater vakolicci haven wrote:Suuentliok nos Karelminor

Suuentliok nodded at Tarin's words: they only served to confirm what she herself had guessed, and she gathered herself for what might be an unpleasant conversation. Waiting until Tarin was fully out of his favourite position curled around her, she put her bag on her shoulder and stood, just expecting Tarin to follow her. The driver had shouted at the boy with the issues, but as of yet he hadn't seemed to have been effected by it. Whether seing a 7 foot tall girl accompanied by a half-fox creature walking up to him would make him react, or just convince him he was having the best trip of his life was yet to be seen, however she walked as gracefully as she could in his direction, one hand falling gently but firmly on his shoulder.
"Might want to find a seat," she told him, guiding him in a friendly but irresistible fashion backwards.

Lechle removed his hand from his pocket to meet the one on his shoulder. He turned around and was met with a stranger's chest. Lechle was quite short for his age, and the height differential made this especially known. Lechle stuffed his hands back into his pockets and followed the girl with reluctancy as he caught glimpses of snickering seniors and the profanities of a bus driver he didn't thank.

"Uh- er- okay. This is happening."

Greater vakolicci haven wrote:"Come on, there's one free near us. I accidentally bought male deodorant at the airport..." she sniffed, Tarin was not wrong "That's yours now, and I've got something for your hangover. Works wonders."

He raised his sleeve to his face. Alcohol and cigarettes. He didn't notice until he looked for it, dulled over periods of use. The worrying thing is that he didn't remember consuming cigarettes today. Is it that obvious? He must've been losing his touch. Normally it would take a narcotics dog to break him but this women did so on demand. Is this girl a narc?

Greater vakolicci haven wrote:"My name is Suuentliok by the way, this is Tarin. What's yours?"

He nodded to avoid having to attempt to recite the native-sounding name. There wasn't a good chance he would remember it past midnight anyways.

"Lechle." He repeated it slower, with more emphasis. "Lay-ish-la. It's French. I think. Or maybe Dutch."

by **Greater vakolicci haven** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 11:07 am

Suuentliok nos Karelminor

"Lechle," Suuentliok said brightly, years of living in Velstrania, whose naming customs consisted of 'what syllables do I like in what order' making the name easy for her to get her head around. She led him over to the empty seat beside where her and Tarin had been sitting, even without the enhanced nose that Tarin had the smell was now starting to get to her and she reached into her bag, pressing the deodorant into the boys hand, not wanting to subject Tarin's noise to any further unnecessary torment. "We're from Velstrania," she continued, just trying to make conversation, "You're from...an alleyway, I'd guess, but which country is your alleyway in?"

by **Holy Marsh** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 11:21 am

Tarin

Tarin followed close behind Suuen as they approached the dishevelled boy. Suuen was being a bit more polite than Tarin would have guessed nearly any other Karelminor would have been but then again she was definitely kinder than the others. She started leading him backwards and Tarin followed, doing his best to avoid having her trip on the kitsune or his large tail. That would have been embarrassing and Suuen was better than that. He walked back and gave them the room they needed until they reached the row. He would allow the student to take his seat- likely the open one near the window- followed by Suuen. When they were settled Tarin moved on top of Suuen's lap and then resumed his position, half on her and half on the middle seat. He was curled up tighter this time, but with his ears perked up. Suuen was a great woman and all and this fellow- Lechle - didn't seem like the violent sort yet, but he was still guarded. Thank the Holy Marsh that she had mispurchased that deodorant. It would help a little, and a little was all he needed.

by **Nouveau Quebecois** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 11:26 am

St. Peadrus MacCallion
Sophomore, Lechle "Detlef" Capelle

Grangemouth, Dalmashiel, Folaisia - Road to St. Peadrus MacCallion.
/ / / / /
March 12, 2020 - Afternoon

Greater vakolicci haven wrote:Suuentliok nos Karelminor

"Lechle," Suuentliok said brightly, years of living in Velstrania, whose naming customs consisted of 'what syllables do I like in what order' making the name easy for her to get her head around. She led him over to the empty seat beside where her and Tarin had been sitting, even without the enhanced nose that Tarin had the smell was now starting to get to her and she reached into her bag, pressing the deodorant into the boys hand, not wanting to subject Tarin's noise to any further unnecessary torment. "We're from Velstrania," she continued, just trying to make conversation, "You're from...an alleyway, I'd guess, but which country is your alleyway in?"

He accepted the deodorant with hesitation. Lechle didn't have an eye for foreigners, being stuck with city-kids and locals for most of his life. But he had a knack for meeting strangers.

"Train Station actually. Union Station in Toronto. I've been stuck in Canadian city for most of my life until my collegiate decided to send me away."

by **Greater vakolicci haven** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 12:03 pm

Suuentlioc

Okay, it was hard...but she managed it. She didn't laugh.
"I wasn't actually expecting you to say you did live somewhere like that," she told him, grinning, "Well...I guess I wouldn't know anything about it. My family lives in an honest-to-goodness castle, it'd look like a fairytale if it wasn't seemingly built out of artillery guns." She sniffed up again, that scent was still lingering in the air, and she gave Tarin an apologetic look.
"That deodorant," she told Lechle in a kind, motherly voice, "It wasn't just a gift. I'd really appreciate if you made use of it."

by **Champagne Socialist Sharifistan** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 4:34 pm

Polish Prussian Commonwealth wrote:
Danceria wrote:Larsa Solidor
Grangemouth Intl. Airport
~1700hrs

Larsa could understand why and why not he was invested in public schools. Between the Arab immediately thinking himself a Cassanova, and the girl he was Cassanova-ing a brunette haired lass that observed as well as him. The Saracen's sweet-talking was refuted by a Camelonean, who carried himself alike the bluer-collared Dancerians. Sadly, those who were born into the aristocracy had to carry themselves with reservation around those whom they dislike, preferring their resources rather than their honor. Though it was a refreshing change from the forced politeness, mutual social realpolitik, or the outright arrogant.

The question was simple enough, and answered in kind. He stood up and spoke with a receded tenor, "Go ahead." Larsa nodded towards the newcomer's book. "You seem to be still reading." The flight was longer for him than the newcomer, obviously, and had devoured and re-devoured a few of the thicker books and texbooks assigned to him. He was looking forward to the library, and sampling the entirety of what was available. A shift from the window seat to the inner one, if only to keep an eye on the úan-en-outremer and any initial confrontations. While he hoped there not to be any altercations...Moltke and Murphy made laws dissuading optimism. Besides, the wisp of a black haired lass he was sitting next to-that Larsa was reasonably certain was an Ahscan-seemed rather uncomfortable. Motion sickness? Nerves? She seemed nice enough lass, but he didn't want to follow in the Saracen's footsteps the first day. What was it the Camelonean said? Something about adjusting to nonsense before adding one's own...?

Regardless, he turned to the blond haired newcomer and decided to break the ice. "I'm Larsa." he began with a polite smile. "...What's your name? Where are you from?"

"Tah' name's Otto," he replied, bowing his head. "I'm from the Chess Empire, Kingdom of Lignea...Yer from Danceria, roight? You seem like 'em. Saw a couple 'o you blokes as a kid."
He sat down and scooted in a little, seeming entirely the part of a nervous freshman, until...

Champagne Socialist Sharifistan wrote:“I don’t take kindly to being insult, mister!”
Said the young nobleman.

Otto turned back to the nobleman. "Okay, Mohammedan. Get the fucking stick out of your ass." he quietly replied, before turning back to Larsa. "Sorry, where were we?"

“Excuse me I just remembered you said ‘Mohammedan.” Did you just intend to insult my religion or do you not know the correct words for things?”

by **Folaisia** » Fri Mar 13, 2020 4:57 pm

5:11 PM
Gallagher-Blair Hostel

Minutes passed by, and the sights of the city passed away for a more suburban setting. A smooth and continuous ride, thanks to a few cars that pass or zoomed by, much to Stella's contentment. Crossing the Greenadder Bridge, It's just one turn to the hostel. Afterwards, the wheels stopped spinning and the engine only rumbled.

The hostel had a unique design to itself, taking the form reminiscent to that of a lotus flower. The original designers were inspired by their sojourn to India where they were taken aghast at the nation's traditional architecture. With a twist of modernity and with a few renovations, the exotic-looking hostel received praise and acclaim from the city's inhabitants, especially the students from previous exchanges. More so, it was an apposite residence for such students by coincidence.

"Alright, lads and lassies," Stella called out, "We're finally here! You can get up from yer seats and leave in an orderly fashion to get your luggage. The three assistants in the front seats will help you out if necessary," she then pointed out, "Have a guid one everybody! Hope you enjoy your time here and at school," she then greeted with a smile and a booming voice to elicit a sense of encouragement and excitement among her passengers.

The three assistants then went out first as the doors hissed open, and stood next to the luggage hold as the students' belongings were revealed to the fresh, evening air.

St. Peadrus MacCallion Exchange Program REBOOTED (IC)

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