Dreadlords Substitute Teacher

[Chasmine]

Chasmine wasn't entirely sure why she was the one being called a dimwit. Using the Bastard's Play hadn't been her idea either time and he was the one that used it just now while she merely reacted. Despite these things, she said nothing and her pale skin continued to further blanche as the blood of her exceptionally deep wound continued to soak through her leggings and pool on the ground beneath her.

She was beginning to feel lightheaded.

But that didn't stop her from hearing what he said next.

You may all stop when you are dead.

"That's not-" she breathed, shaking her head gently, "killing each other is no longer..." the world spun, "per ... permitted."

Those were the new rules of the Revolution. Hadn't he heard?

 

[Kristen Pirian]

A touch harsh, Raphael's own description of what a Dreadlord was (disgusting and horrifying were both abrasive to Kristen's ears), but on every other count he was correct.

To be good at anything, you first had to be willing to look like a fool. Kristen's first bumbling steps a year ago she would call disgusting and horrifying. How utterly foolish she must have looked, skittish of everything and crumpling to nothing at the mere presence of the slightest adversity, and this was to say nothing of her absolute dearth of skill back then. 'Twas not much better a year on, but a significant change had happened.

She refused to give up now. She refused to let her nerves score victory after victory over her. They were still there, the shakes, the trembles, the acidic and pulsing feel of stress deep in her chest, but now she had the resolve to push through it. And if that resolve should fail as she was sure it might in these early days of her new resolution then she would keep her promise to herself and get back up after she fell down. Keep getting back up over and over and over again.

This, until Aionus took her.

Stop only when you are dead.

"Understood," Kristen said firmly, she perhaps more than anyone here knowing the weight of that singular word in this context.

Elias Raphael the Red Chasmine Delaney Lennox

 

[Elias]

Elias quietly sighed. In the end, he really did prefer Pallatrix's instruction. The Proctor in question would have said in that flat rasp of his that one should be receptive to other philosophies, but Elias didn't find himself convinced with Raphael's lecture even with that in mind. It was just so undignified.

But the second was no slouch, as far as swordsmanship was concerned.

Eli crossed his arms and tapped on his bicep with a finger, watching Chasmine bleed out on the ground. Then he shot a sideways glare at Kristen, who'd been the only one to respond to the stand-in Proctor. He quietly snorted with contempt and began to impatiently shift his weight between his feet.