The Dragonbond Program discussion

Servants whisk around trays of food. It isn't exactly the best, but it sticks to your stomach.

Aleyne strode into the dining pavilion, feeling sore and tired. Her white shirt was filthy, the once fine material ragged and battered. She could hardly wait to drop back by her dorm and put on an actual gown, those suited her much better than trousers and shirts. She was a scholar, not a warrior.
Sliding onto a bench, she waved a waiter down and ordered a cup of hot tea.

Weiss was sitting not too far away, looking no more worse for wear than earlier. He didn't do any worse in his studies than he did on the battlefield either. He was a model soldier, intelligent and battle-hardened. And now, he was enjoying his dinner.

The waiter bustled back over, bringing with her a steaming cut of tea. Aleyne nodded in thanks, and lifted the cup to her mouth just as her eyes landed on the young man from earlier. The cup froze at her lips, and she nearly slammed it back down on the table. What? He was here to? She supposed this should have been obvious to her, the campus wasn't that big, and though the student body may have been large, it was still filling up with new new comers.
She eyed him for a moment, gauging the distance between them. It didn't appear he had seen her yet, good. She hoped to keep it that way.

Weiss had been in the program for a long time. He wasn't a newcomer by any means, really. He just didn't associate with anyone. Someone sat at his table, got a tongue-lashing, before scurrying off in fear of the purple haired young man. His hair was purple because of the poison now in his genes.

The waiter appeared again, and Aleyne ordered some soup. Begrudgingly, she knew she wouldn't be able to handle anything more substantial than that. Her digestive system couldn't handle much without making her nauseous, possibly accounting for the anorexic-like impression she was just on the verge of falling into.
Taking a sip of the beverage, she waited for the soup to arrive while planning out the rest of her day. She kept glancing over at the young man, especially his hair. It wasn't often she met someone else with such an unnatural coloring.

Weiss yawned and stood, his entire six-foot, one-inch tall mass rising. He didn't want anymore of the slop they served. It was filling, nutritious, and gunk. He didn't want any of it, and especially not when he could go home to Violaceus. He sighed out a purple wisp of poison, an amount too tiny to last long enough to be ingested. It revealed the rarity of his dragon. Not many poisonous dragons existed.

Aleyne blinked as he suddenly got up, and then stared back into her cup. She was sure he would notice her, but doubted now if he would approach her. He seemed the type to ignore the world, not engage it. Her soup arrived just then, and she spooned the liquid around. It looked like watered seasonings. Lovely.

Weiss did not do such. In fact, he couldn't have cared less about her being there. He began to stride away.

((You want me to interrupt him, or let him keep going?))
Pressing a spoonful of it into her mouth, she leaned against the table without looking up.

((Drax?))

((I was gone, sorry. Whichever works for you.))

Aleyne closed her eyes for a breif moment, and then made her decision. Pushing aside her bowl, she jumped to her feet and hurried after the young man. Catching up to him, she asked her question before he could give her any of his icy looks. "So, what's your name then?" He was tall, tall enough that she had to peer at him through her long lashes, which was slightly agrivating.

((No prob, Ill just continue it then. Im on my phone, so Ill appologize in advance for the horrible spelling.))

"None of your concern," Weiss replied, icy look leveled immediately. He wasn't in the mood to squash her petty insecurities again, and she was making it hard for him to tolerate her presence. He didn't want her to be close to him, didn't want her to associate with him, and, most of all, deep, deep under his cold exterior, the one thing he didn't want, was for her to become dear to him only to be murdered.

"I don't really care about what's my concern, as you rightly know." Aleyne continued, her voice briskly friendly. She smiled slightly as his shoulders tightened in agitation. "It's just a name." She added, staring down his icy stare.

"I don't care what you don't care about," Weiss said, hostility dripping from his very being. He didn't like her friendly look or smile. He didn't want to. He didn't want to respect her fearlessness, or her outgoing personality, even if it was solely focused on annoying him.

Aleyne's eyebrow cocked in half humor, half astonishment at his continued hostility. She brushed it aside for now, figuring even if he was revising his oppinion of leaving her alive, he couldn't do anything about it while they were in a crowded area.
"Maybe if I knew your name, I wouldn't be following you around." She said, motioning to their situation. A smile still danced on her lips, his apparent agitation goading out a more even temperment from her.

"Maybe if I pumped venom into your blood, you wouldn't, either," Weiss replied, still glaring. He could do that with just a touch, if he wanted to. It was a threat, and it was one he could carry out without any real witnesses. No one would suspect him of harming her with just a tap on the skin.

Unaware of this rather pressing threat, she continued on without hesitation, "you know, I'm sure not many people ask about your name in the first place. You're not exactly," she gave him a look that was hard to read, "terribly friendly. You should really be honored, or flattered, that I haven't given up yet."

"I'm insulted. Why would I want you to know my name?" he asked, hand rising. It became purplish, venom seeping up from his veins, to warn her of his rising anger. "I don't want your friendship," he growled, as he got closer and closer to his primal self, his canines lengthening to their fang-like appearance. He had a close link with his dragon.

((Want to have her meet Violaceus alone and speak with him? He's actually very kind.))

((Physical change... Eh... I'm not sure on that.))

((I shall change if you wish. But what else is his poison skill going to manifest as? Poison spit and breath?))

((Hmm... Good point. That's okay, then.))

((Well, he can breathe poison... but it's nuerotoxin. Sleep gas. I've put a lot of thought into this.))

((Was that to me or Ilsa?...If it was to me, sure!))

Aleyne danced backwards out of reach, the smile fading from her lips and instead replaced with a narrow glare. "Really? You're that insecure that the threat of a friendly gesture sends you-" she bit her lip, cutting off the angry retort. She wasn't sure why she'd even said that, she wasn't verbally aggressive with anger. "I'm sorry, that was out of line." She glanced away, and her insides still twisting venomously.

((Okay, sounds good!))

"Just get out of my sight!" Weiss growled, before stalking off furiously. He wasn't in the mood to speak with some foolishly nice person. The world was cruel, and he was in touch with it. With its beauty, and its cruelty.

Aleyne stood there a moment, feeling a fool and then stalked off as well. She shouldn't have let so much real emotion leak into her words, she was better than that. Especially around the one person in this whole place that posed the largest threat to her. What an idiot. She should have just left him alone before storming up a petty war over what?
She didn't know the answer to that.

((To someplace where Violaceus would be...))

((Okay, any suggestions?...))

((Outdoors?))

((Okay, I'll go post!))

Drake entered the dining hall, his trench coat twisting behind him as he strode towards one of the tables and took a seat. His short hair, and tanned skin, made him look slightly foreign. He was accustomed to people perceiving him this way, though the reality wasn't so. He waved a waiter down and ordered some food.

((See, one problem here, he wouldn't purposely sit down and greet someone, he's more of the type that would shank someone that sits at his table, but I think I can make it work))

Damian sat there. Silently picking at his food, out of this world, in his mind. When something caught his eye. The man's skin, darker than everyone else's. Especially his Snow White skin. He wondered what that could mean. What if he was from away from here. No matter how long he searched he could never find books about other places. And so he was trapped in a psychological battle between his two halves. One, and introvertant, manipulating, evil, ambitious side, and his other, a brilliant, intelligent scholar. In the end his curiosity broke through. He stood up, and for the first time in forever ((#Frozen)) he walked over and sat down at the persons table. He immediately regretted it he felt intense glares on him from all around. Wondering why that sociopathic creep would be sitting down at another persons table. And so he spoke, voice like ice, rarely used. "Where are you from" he said, cutting to the chase.

((Hahaha, sadly quite a few characters I RP with are more that way. & #LOL)))

Drake looked up as a young man approached, nodding in greeting. "Surprisingly, from here." He replied simply, "my mother was Aligasian, my father a commander int he army." He ran a hand through his short hair out of habit, glancing around the room and then back at the young man. "What might be your intentions behind that question?" He queried in return.

((? I don't think that Earth places apply here. Besides, in the late 14th century an Indian person would never meet a European))

((I'm so bad with history that I had no idea... :3 What sort of Indian like people have darker skin? and so we just make up whatever? I can do that xD Let me change it))

((How's that?))

(( yeah because dragons are historically accurate XD))

((LOLZING))

((Yay editing, sorry, trapped by social convention, can't...use...phone...aghhhh....I'll post later sorry))

((No problem! & I might have to go in a bit, I have a dinner to go to tonight. I'll be on either later tonight or tomorrow though :) )))

He sighed. Of course, like I really thought I could get information that vital from a someone such as himself. Mind as well answer his question though "I'm curious, knowledge is all we will ever always have in this world. In the end, life is just you and your mind"

"Is that to?" Drake mused, reclining back in his seat and giving the newcomer his full attention. "What of external forces then, emotion-love-pain? Are they not products of the body, and not of the mind? The mind is merely the conductor to the ship, what happens on the ship is not of the conductor. Or ever has been."

((Dang it neuroscience hasn't been created yet...))

Damian originally wanted to leave. But he was glad to see there was another person out there he could have an intelligent conversation with. "But is that so? Emotion is malleable, it can be molded to the will of it's victim. Even cast out." He said like he had experience with it.

((Hahaha))

Drake nodded in agreement, then prodded on without hesitation. "However, for some it is not that simple. The act of telling oneself to stop feeling an emotion, is comparable to telling the seas to stop turning. It is a force that does not bend to reason, merely circumstance."

He laughed. He rarely did to external influences these days. "Some are born that way, others train themselves, it's all a question of how bad you want it.@

Drake smiled, setting his arms on the table and propping himself up. "I think that, we can both agree on without argument," he concluded with a flicker of amusement.

A smirk crept it's way onto Damian's face. He didn't settle until he had won, never did, never will. "Oh can we?"

"I think so, unless you'd like to contend your own statement? In which case the proceeding points to your arguments would be invalidated, just by failing to uphold your first conjecture." Drake mused, an eyebrow cocking.