Recent content by Pomrick Bloomsfield

Pomrick couldn't help but crane his neck back slightly as Nilamani leaned in, eyes darting left and right, feeling as if he might have been inducted into some secret cabal of people-watching. "Eh-heh . . . Right . . ." He followed Nilamani's gaze to the skies, their voice taking on a faint...

While Pomrick copied Nilamani's arrangement, setting sandwiches and biscuits, he tensed up at this question. It felt like an inevitable trap. Not intentionally from Nilamani's side, the question innocuous enough, but rather from the universe, teasing him with the peculiar nature of his study...

This perked up Pomrick's ears. Where had he heard about this before? He could swear he almost remembered . . . the memory so tantalisingly close he could taste it. It sent an involuntary shudder through him, especially at the mention of old gods. Something about that phrase felt ominous to him...

Pomrick's eyes flitted, taking each one of them in. A nobleman, an artist and a student group organiser. They already seemed to outclass him in several arenas. But strangely enough, he didn't feel quite as . . . uncomfortable, as with others. Certainly, Lysander seemed to see himself as...

"Yes, thank you," Pomrick said, aping Aiko's courtesy. "For the refreshments, I mean. As well. Also for - for organising. And the flyers. And all the rest." A silence hung after his words. A few odd stares. Had he been talking to stuntedly? Probably. Oh, right, introductions! Again...

Nilamani's voice curled out from the gathering twilight, hemming them both in like bewildered sheep that had wandered too away from the pen. Or at least, that's how Pomrick felt. He could only drop his jaw at Lysander's easy and chevalier superiority. All from a student he felt fairly certain...

Another student was approaching the group. White locks cradled a phlegmatic face, his hair casually matching his coat, as if he had been born for those clothes, exuding an effortless style. Pomrick became acutely aware of his brown, oversized and stained tunic, his half-open pouches, loosely...

Pomrick wandered the grassy fields, scratching his neck. He could have sworn it should have been around here somewhere... He peered at the flyer in his hand, squinting to parse the words through the dwindling light. Near the paddock of the north-western fields. Join us Stargazers for a night...

"Ugh-fh!" was the erudite response Pomrick had towards being yanked by Nilamani to safety, banging his waist against the upper rung of the fence, followed by a prompt opinion of pain as he vaulted over, his cheek kissing the ground. He expressed this with a profound exclamation, professed to the...

Pomrick stepped inside the paddock. Mentally, he was running in circles to remember all the instructions. Crystal on the ground. He staggered in, plonking the crystal on the ground with all the ceremony of a drunkard dumping a drained tankard - not from intentional disrespect, but from a...

Pomrick stared in abject horror at the Froghound. He wanted them to ride that? It looked more fit for terrorising villages than transport. His gaze travelled from its eerie, vacant eyes to the pile of deer-slush below it, imagining himself turning into such half-melted matter. What would that...

Pomrick felt as if he was sweating out the tears that should have come from his eyes. Huffing and puffing, he was lugging along a mountain of equipment, clutching several straps for dear life: Shovels and spades, crowbars, an hourglass dangling around his neck, spare bags filled with stone...

Pomrick rose, poked by the staff like a boneless ragdoll. His shoulders slumped even with his ascension, as if still sagging down towards his previous position. Why did nothing ever seem to work out for him? With a heavy sigh, he mumbled: "Krellos . . . His name is . . . Krellos Thunderbeard."...

A volunteer? When the other students parted for him, staring at him with various levels of incredulity, it clocked for him. Somehow, those fickle gods of ill luck had decided to play a terrible prank on him today, and cause Kikwi, the Kenku teacher, to single him out. ...What.... What...

Pomrick blinked - one eye twitching before the other, bearing to mind the look of a glazed frog. Oh, no. This had really backfired. He was getting more attention. From one otherworldly graceful student to another, deep pools of gold observing him coolly. If he mucked this up, he wouldn't hear...