You Owe Me

It appears Faustus was around, after all.

Much like a creeping shadow, the scarlet eyes of Valmasian have been pointed at him, something inquisitive and vile hiding behind his gaze; at least, he awaited till Faustus was done with his conversation.

But o0therwise? He was not going to just leave.

"When you're done, think you owe me a-- bit of your time."
(Arthur Rowan)

There's little-to-no surprise from him that the girl was so reserved about all of this, now, given that he had fully come to an understanding on what was happening with her circumstance. Given everything, he chooses to simply follow on behind as he'd said he would originally.

"Doesn't make me a lick o' difference..."

Maybe he'd finally found someone he could tell, actually-

And then Arthur showed up. The red-haired boy had been hovering in the vicinity and whizzed by a few times, but it seemed he now wanted to talk. Whereas last time he'd seen Arthur, there'd been a sort of smugness radiating from him, it seemed this go, the boy was more in the direction of annoyed.

"I'm busy right now, but later, sure."

He'd wait for a response, or to see if the boy would make a motion to stop him from leaving, but he turns to finish responding to Momo first.

"Ready to head out now?"
(Faustus)

No, it's not the choice that Faustus would get to make.

Approaching closer, it seemed that Arthur was far more determined to actually make his position clear in regards of the other boy; he wasn't going to be just shrugged off like that, whether Faustus wants it or not- and now, there was time for retribution for what's happened earlier.

"I don't think you understand the position you're in."

"You were bold enough to be disrespecting me earlier, but in reality, you were hiding behind Bei's back, hoping that I would not actually chase after you."

"You thought wrong. Here I am."

In fact, Arthur moved up so close that there was little to no space whatsoever between the two- so much, that they were at an arm's length, and at any given moment, Arthur could simply grab him by his arm.

And possibly, he would.

"Where's that courage and confidence now?"

"Come on. Don't make me drag you out there for a challenge you accepted."
(Arthur Rowan)

The boy is utterly unsurprised at the heightened hostility of the other, but at this present moment, doesn't seem too interested in what was happening. He certainly didn't feel like being a part of a fight over a girl.

"Are you going to go around fighting every boy that she hangs around? You'd have a really long list to go through."

Talking a big game, making snide cheap shots, it was all a part of who Faustus was, to be sure. But the relatively inexperienced magi knew that he was in no position yet to be backing any of that up - the posturing was just how he got his kicks.

He notices the gathering crowd and the teacher and all that were suddenly present that hadn't been a moment ago, so he's aware a confrontation is altogether likely, and that, as a weaker magi, he'd certainly not be coming out on top within it.

Ah well.

"I have stuff to do, so what exactly do you want?"
(Faustus)

The time was running out.

As much as he was mannered, there was a side to Arthur that was absolutely intolerant, impatient, and even violent; a side that Faustus was dealing with at the moment, and a side which threatened to bring great harm to him.

"You know very well what this is about."

Seeing that Faustus was as uncooperative as he'd expect, the staff was drawn out from his back, clearly intended to simply attack him - right here, right now. If he wasn't going to come with him, if he wasn't going to actually step away from the public areas as he'd imply in the beginning, then there was no choice--

-- it had to be done here.

"You've had your chance to move away. Time's up."

Before he knew what to respond next, the bolt of lightning was already shot towards Faustus, intending to shock him- clearly, a fight was to break out, and Arthur spared no extra second to deal with those that disrespected him.

As to whether he defends himself? That's another story.
(Arthur Rowan)

There's little to no fanfare before this battle is initiated.

Upon attacking him, there is something that Arthur would very quickly come to realize - he was facing a very, very fresh magi. Whether he cared or not was another story, but there is absolutely no defense that he can tangibly mount against the assault. Faustus's face contorts into fury as he's struck, but the boy is more concerned with the immediate pain than anything else-

What the Hell?

The boy'd string together a half-coordinated assault from the beginnings of a cohesive magi skillset, abilities strung together haphazardly in a feeble attempt at harm.

This was why one didn't talk shit.
(Faustus)

It became apparent fairly quick that he'd overpower Faustus easily.

In fact, there was almost little to no resistance that Arthur faced; being able to just lock him up in a single place with his blood magic like that, it seemed that there was no choice to Faustus but to take hits from Arthur, one after another- with the whipping water and blood thrown at him, the boy was quite literally thrashed about, unable to respond back to Arthur.

It's by no means an honorable display, not by a long shot. It's a selfish desire of a slightly older peer to antagonize another, based on his earlier conflict with him, and a simple craving to make him pay for what's been done earlier - there was little care, little remorse as to what he could potentially suffer.

But no, even then, such punishment did not seem as enough to him.

Choosing to employ shredding winds and dangerous lightning, the both types of magic were directed at Faustus, covering him in countless cuts, if only to be seared by the power of lightning- it was the fleshy mess that he'd evoke upon him, so much painful that even uttering a word would be challenging--

-- but at least, it wasn't a dangerous injury.

Standing over his defeated opponent, the scarlet eyes scanned him over, a smug smirk appearing over his face; it was surely satisfying to be experiencing this sort of thing, to actually beat him down after what's been said and done... but is it wrong to feel that way? Perhaps. He wouldn't admit it, eitherway.

"All bark, no bite, as I'd expect."

"Don't disrespect me again, or this will be much, much worse for you next time."
(Arthur Rowan)

Library books are clung to her chest upon exiting her all-night study binge, her feet dragging ever-so-slightly on the cobblestone pathway. She seemed half-ready to either find a large mug of coffee or pass out from exhaustion then and there, until she'd latch her gaze onto the chaotic battle ahead. She didn't quite recognize the opponent, but that red head and voice is extremely familiar.

It was Bei Bei's boyfriend!

"A-Arthur?" Joy's voice perks up in curiosity, the act of combat having been extended due to some idea of disrespect. She's seen that sort of look before. That air of superiority. That stance of might and will dominating over other opponents. It is a look that is shared with her best friend, Bei Bei.

"Uhm - are you okay, Arthur?" It sounded, to her, that he had been bullied by someone who, similarly to Chika, grossly underestimated him. The Crane was truly getting weary over the bullying issue that Pleure Academy seemed to have. Though, satisfied that people she believed good were coming out on top!

"I've been... I've been practicing healing. If you're hurt, I can help..."

Truly, she wanted to know what happened moreso than anything, but any friend of Bei Bei's was a friend of Joy's!
(Joy Crane)

Laphicet shook his head not knowing what such things were. Perhaps he referred to the Spire shards? Yet he didn't think demons would have much interest in those. He pondered for a moment before shrugging his shoulders.

" Can't say that I've encountered such things no. I've heard about spire shards and that their in abundance here but very few have been harvested due to the wars and what not.

Can't say I'm knowledgeable about any other such item unfortunately."

Thinking for a moment back to the book he read on Spritmancy and the summoning of spirits he remembered there was a certain object in relation to spirits he could bring up.

" Unless you're referring to the soul steel I believe its called? The object that is made into a mirror to contact spirits in the Spirit realm?"
(Laphicet)

"Impressive."

The Oscuri remarks after he finished observing the brawl, fixing Arthur Rowan with a sidelong glance. Incandescent green eyes remain upon that area for the time being- watching, waiting, with more than a muted interest. Ostrava took a few paces to the left.

Not often that idling around his family's school produced tangible interest, but there was a first time for everything. A hand pulls from the pocket of his coat, raising towards the two- after the victor delivered the ultimatum. His gloved palm was emblazoned with religious iconography.

Faustus was fixed with a look for a moment, but it was comparatively brief.

"Redhead. You're Valmasian through-and-through, right? Should have a chat when you're done dealing with your business."

And the man fell silent after that, free hand returning itself to hispocket. He rocked on his heels and contented himself with the usual- silent peoplewatching.
(Ostrava Grauhimmel)

Blah.

Faustus had been running game on small targets, but it appeared he'd picked a fight with a bigger fish, and this was his consequence to bare. He was, rather thoroughly, thrashed up and down the grounds of the Academy, with many to bare witness to just how pitiful of a magi he actually was. There's almost no retaliation mustered, merely a pitiful attempt at preventing the inevitable.

It ends just as disrespectfully and brutally as it had begun, with the whip savagely tearing into his skin as the only slightly younger boy is sent sprawling across the ground, laying there with his body mostly unresponsive from the initial shock of immense damage. And then, wearily, he stands back up and onto his feet.

"You just got lucky, loser," he spews back despite being blatantly over his head and overtly overpowered. The back of his hand raises up to wipe blood that flowed from his mouth in rivulets, but whether it was all his or a byproduct of that disgusting magic, he wasn't quite sure.

And then Joy rushes over to Arthur's side at the end of it all, when the other boy wouldn't have even a scratch on him. Ostrava seems to chime in with the praise as well - and it just ultimately leaves him to stand there, injured and humiliated, on his lonesome.

But that wouldn't break his stride. There's still fight in those eyes.

"This isn't over," he swears, and then storms off, back to the scene. It takes every iota of willpower to obscure his limp.
(Faustus)

"Soul steel. . .? What is this, do you of people who might have some?" Even should the boy not accompany the demon in the future. The knowledge it would gain here was priceless. To encounter such a material would surely provide an effortless sway into future plans.

"It's a shame you do not know of theses shards however. . . I would have done much for one." Contemplating on the thought. There surely was someone in this school who knew of the shards.
(Willow)

Elren wasn't a particular fan of the later hours, but the night was pleasant enough- the moonlight was a diffuse of ocean above them, lesenng the inky blackness of the night. And in that deep blue, stars speckled and glittered, each one taken in by the drakanite as he wandered south.

A different sight caught his attention soon, however.

The conclusion of a brawl.
A demon.
And Joy Crane.

The drakanite settled to put his energy on the last one, heading up toward her in long, slow strides. Straight back, broad shoulders. As princely looking as ever despite the usual smile on his lips- he had a more regal, less soft expression as of late.

Behind her, now, he leaned in to whisper--
(Elren Norric)

Elren Norric whispers something.

Though, she's greatly invested in the battle before her, in specific, if her best friend's beau was - in any way - wounded, the regal stance of the Norric behind her melts the proverbial ice. Worry etches into flustered upon her expression, and the books of the library are squeezed into her chest as to keep herself together.

Don't turn around, Joy, or you'll look like a total idiot.

She stares forth, lowering her own, trembling voice to whisper as well.
(Joy Crane)

Joy Crane whispers something.

Joy Crane whispers something.

True, it wasn't a challenging fight.

Clenching his fist just once to exercise it after unleashing stream of magic after another, his gaze was pointed at Faustus with a frown, one that clearly could show that he's not pleased at all - both with his attitude, and just how easy it was to defeat him.

"It's over when I say."

"Run along. Don't even dare to bark up if you're this pathetic."

It was a final nail in the compilation of humiliation and pain alike, before his gaze turns towards Joy- instead of expression twisted with aggression, there was a passive, almost casual expression he'd worn to address her. The fight was over, so certainly there was no need to uphold such aggression, right?

"No, I'm not wounded. He didn't manage to do much to me. Thank you anyway."

If anything, he'd known healing magics on his own too, so he could treat himself. And yet, just as he thought it's truly over, he heard Ostrava addressing him- now, what that could possibly be?

"--Yes. I'm Valmasian."

"Why?"
(Arthur Rowan)

"Thought as much. Hard to tell these days; half-bloods and foreigners've learned to blend in with.. startling aptitude."

Ostrava wryly smiles, tone light and friendly. A third of the man's face is sequestered beneath plated mythril; it might almost look like armor, if it weren't for the complete lack of vital coverage. The rest of his exposed skin was rife with green lines, vibrant with rieka.

He casually takes a few steps forward. Green-blue eyes flick down, lazily scanning the crowd. Most of these faces were vaguely familiar, even if none of them rung any particular bells- Ostrava resolved to eventually pay enough attention to pick up names. Best to start now.

"Being frank? Looking to keep an eye on kids who seem like they've got our traditions in mind. Seem like a smart kid," he offhandedly gestures in the direction the scuffed-up adolescent fled, punctuating the statement with a mirthful little chuckle. His head dipped for a moment- as if a silent approval.

"S'up to you if you feel like chatting, but this academy won't be here forever. Not a bad time to start thinking about your future and how you'll put everything here to use."
(Ostrava Grauhimmel)

There's a growing warmth that brews in the deep, dark shades of his green eyes, something of endearment, perhaps. Elren's smile grew when the request was made, and he took a single step back, then gestured for her to begin their little walk.
(Elren Norric)

Elren Norric whispers something.

It's true enough, the Academy won't stick around forever.

And in truth? He already had the plans for the future, ones that were clearly intertwined with Valmasian future; he'd have plans for this place to grow, to become great, and perhaps even return to the glory of old Avalon days. Whether that was meant to be or not, that's entirely different story.

As of now, it seems that Oscuri had a plan to speak to the young one, and perhaps even butter him up. Why? Was it because he was a pureblood Valmasian? It could be, because many people were mixed blood between nations.

It's no surprise that seeing a pure Valmasian could be a surprise.

"Mm--"

"I don't mind chatting. It's not like there's anything better to do, seeing that the little pest was already dealt with. I assume you want to lead the way elsewhere, then?"
(Arthur Rowan)

"Yeah, sure. We'll take a dip into one of the temples for the sake of being proper. If you have a better idea, I am eternally all ears."

Ostrava seems somewhat lackadaisical with regards to most affairs, ceasing his forward tilt to meet the young Rowan's eyes. After the man spun around on heel, not taking the time to wait for comment; he presumed that any objections could be voiced while they were scuffling about and talking.

There was a last glance over the square. Glowing green eyes underlaid with blue take in all the sights available, from the stray Kaor to the scattered crowd. Nothing else caught his eyes for long. Before they knew it, he was off at a good pace.

It was a brief jaunt to the southwest. No real turns or surprises. Idly, he makes a few remarks- none sound particularly consequential as he pushes the door to the cathedral open, slipping his head in to glance around.

"Y'been enjoying yourself at the Academy, or are you the studious type? I don't imagine my grandmother is quite the fastidious type when it comes to keeping kids in line."

"That boy getting his shit kicked in was a good enough example as to that much, at least."
(Ostrava Grauhimmel)

Following him to a different place, the young Valmasian kept idly looking around for a place that they've arrived into- if anything, this seemed like church to him, or at least the sort of place where people gather to listen to someone significant. It made sense that there were spots for such preaching in Valmasian, didn't it?

Although, hearing the questions being directed at him, it didn't take long for the young Valmasian to direct his attention back at Ostrava, listening to what he had to say- a prompt answer followed, of course.

"Both. I've been enjoying myself at the Academy, but I was also studying hard for the different Arts that I wish to grasp."

"The list is quite long, after all. I intend to grasp Storm, Arcane, Necromancy and Riftmancy. It won't be easy as it is, and if I don't study, there's no hope for me to grasp at least half of these, so it's inevitable."

Ambitious one,clearly. Perhaps he'd come off as someone more aggressive than his peers, or focused on social interactions, but in reality? Arthur was probably as studious as it can get. An odd mix of a scholar and fighter.

"But yes, there's not much of a watch over what students do. I assume they weed out the weak like that."
(Arthur Rowan)

"Interesting agenda. Your eyes are going to be bleeding come a few years; there's no end to the amount of effort requisite for the latter of those talents. Necromancy alone is a lifetime of effort,"

Ostrava remarked in a tone that spoke of casual interest and appreciation - perhaps more along the lines of the latters' ulterior definition, however. It was hard to tell. While he spoke and postured himself in a relaxed manner, it was clear he was attentive.

As the two passed through the threshold of the church, he made a queer sign with his hand- the latter three fingers, middle, ring and small, extend outwards. The interior two fold back, and the hand itself brushes over his heart.

Queer habit or esoteric nuance? Hard to tell. The man was not particularly normal in the first place. Afterwards, he wheels around and eases the door shut behind them. It did not necessarily seem like he was concerned of listening ears.

"It's a good way to manage things. Keeps everyone aware of their place. Only real issue in my book is that the classes are all mixed; seems foolish to let our society be further denigrated."

"But hey, grandmother has her reasons. At the very least, she's no fool. Now- as for why I wanted to talk to you; can you take a guess as to what I'm looking for out of you? I'm curious."
(Ostrava Grauhimmel)

Arthur was already steeling himself for all of the effort he'd need to put into mastering all of these arts- just as he said, Necromancy alone could take a lifetime of effort to perfect, and to top it off with Arcane, Riftmancy and Storm magic? Unironically, something like Storm magic was easiest on the list, and yet--

-- it was the deadly magic that required a lot of mana reserves, precision and ability to control the Storm itself.

It's not the easy road he chose, but it's not something he'd stray away from. He was more than ready to sacrifice years upon years, even decades to perfect every single Art of his choosing like that - and probably, that's just as much as it would take.

"I know. It won't be easy at all, but I'm ready for it."

A single brief comment about it all. There was no real purpose to drag it all out - Arthur knew what he signed himself up for, and yet it did not discourage him at all.

And then, came the question. Why did he exactly call over Arthur like that, and why did he exactly chose to speak to him? Based on what he's been trying to figure out, he could already tell - or at least, he believed that he could.

"If I were to guess, it's because you're seeking for people with interests of Valmasia in their heart."

"We have a lot of foreigners around here, but none of them really care for what's going to become of Valmasia, of our home. As soon as Academy ends, most of them will simply leave."

"And after that? It's only emptiness, least someone will stay behind to stand their ground."
(Arthur Rowan)

"See? Like I said. Smart kid. You seem like you have a firm enough head on your shoulders to see the arc of trajectory we're on at the moment; it's not a pretty one, unless someone takes some initiative. For the most part, you're fairly close to the intent."

Ostrava's hands fold together behind the back of his neck and he half-cranes his gaze towards the shrine in the room. There's a lingering expression of distaste. Now that, certainly, seems particularly curious. It dispels itself before long.

Without another averse comment, he sets his eyes back on Arthur. An easygoing smile split unblemished lips, flashing a row of whitened teeth. Clearly he served to derive some deal of enjoyment from chatting, even if it's only in brief. He leans forward for a moment,

"It's more than just the academy. It's more than just the slow death that'll come. It's about the cancer at the heart of our society; the old-guard who have forgotten what we need to stand for- the old-guard who is content to watch,"

he released his clasp on one hand, and brought the gloved hand back to gesture at the altar again. Now, he gave some illumination to that unspoken distaste. The dreamers' icon in particular was indicated.

"They don't care about Azrael. They don't care about Valmasia. They're just trying to stay alive and it shows in every action they've done."

"It's why I'm looking for kids like you- and plenty more who I'm sure exist; youth who want our order of things back- people who have not forgotten why we're here and what we're doing."

"Corroborating and forming a central group for the future- people who can cooperate, sharing fundamental values and ideals. Starting now with activities to pull other children in- to teach them what they're missing- doesn't seem like a bad thing to me."

for the tone of what he's saying, he appears to be pretty easygoing about the subject matter. it does not appear to be on the account of animosity, at least; there's no hatred voiced for Nyphadora and Sima, or the others he saw as complicit. By the time he's done talking, he's fiddling with the mask.

"Worst case scenario, if things don't pan out so great? At least it's a few decent people around when things inevitably go to shit."
(Ostrava Grauhimmel)

It's a harsh reality.

It's something that Arthur didn't really want to accept, but had to anyway- the fact that inevitably most of these people would simply leave, if only to never be found again. Most of them are leeches, here to stay just to be alive, or to enjoy the interaction with the others - and most of them will only remain at that, quick to leave if things get hot.

That is why Arthur was careful with just what sort of buttons he pushes. Sure, he could make his stance widely known that he despises Gehennans, that he'd rather see them thoroughly controlled whenever they choose to cross the border and actually remain here. But what it would do exactly? Spoil Cho's plan for the Academy, or turn away those that were incoming?

No. That didn't sound like a plan, not yet.

There had to be a lot of work done, one of convertion. A lot of people had no idea what Valmasian identity is or what it stands for, and thatmuch had to be known among the youth. But how'd that be possible to do, to begin with?

Likely through influential spread of the people that had sway over others.

"Mmm--"

"If I were to judge, there aren't that many people that seem Valmasian at heart. We could take someone like Zio or Elren, of course, but even then they sometimes seem... aloof. Better than most, at least."

"Or Vira? I dislike her attitude, but at least she's Valmasian, a Neries. Who else? There are some other Valmasian folks that you could be on the lookout for, but otherwise--"

"It doesn't look very good."

"What do you intend to do, then? Spread the word through them, or just gather them all at once?"
(Arthur Rowan)

"Procedural thing. Vet people one by one- talk to them, discuss plans and ambitions. See what they think about our current state of affairs, their thoughts on Azrael and the particulars of their dedication."

"Going all-at-once is a bit of jumping the shark from what I've seen. At the end of the day, I am an Oscuri- an Oscuri no one knows, and no one has a reason to know. My word has weight, but only with the faithful- which, as you said, are a dying breed."

"Elren was one I took note of. He's a good candidate- strong nationalist, distaste for the state of things. Zio- is the Gehennan Neries, isn't he? Don't know him well enough, and the mixed blood is... distasteful."

Unabashed in his abject distaste for Gehennans, at least! Not to imply that he thinks much more highly of the Jianghese, but only one of those topics had been thoroughly broached in the consequential chatter. Ostrava retains his eternally relaxed posture, though the smile faded.

Nothing about Vira seemed to click, though he raise an eyebrow at Arthur's remark. A brief roll of the shoulders and an airy comment- he was right on that account, at the least; "Take what works. If they agree with our viewpoint, I don't care if they spend their evenings licking boots clean. So long as they corroborate."

A brief pause follows the last remark before he speaks again.

"Slow. Steady. Start with congregations. Invite outsiders, make it inclusive. Keep a core group to coordinate, leeping an eye on things. Maybe everyone gets together for some..."

"Extracurricular activities. Something to help out aspiring Necromancers, something to keep the people who'd kill us a little more cowtowed. Think civilian-side advocacy and faith is more of a prominent need, to get started."
(Ostrava Grauhimmel)

This promised to be a slow, drawn out, and even challenging task.

To gather people to the dying ideals of Valmasia once more? It was possible, of course, but it wouldn't be easy- to do so, one must have charisma and clear sway, which is something that Arthur did not possess in excess, for now. Even then, people like Bei Bei, whom were originally Jianghese?

For how much she's fallen for him, she gave it up with her love to Arthur. She was willing to give her skill for Valmasia.

It's the moments spent with her that made Arthur realize that emotions are indeed the greatest bane and greatest blessing, that they can forge the bonds that people would never easily break, if ever- it's the sort of bonding that they could use in Valmasian rise, to forge themselves a new generation of people ready to serve this goal.

It's a thought to consider.

"Mm--"

"I'll be on the lookout for such, then. I,ah-- I rarely find someone whom I believe has possession for a strong Valmasian conviction, but we'll see."

"I suppose that'd be the plan you wished to explain to me, then?"
(Arthur Rowan)

"About it, yeah. Have some other stuff in the works but I can't comment too much about it right now in case it falls through and I'm left looking pants-on-head."

"Keep in touch. If you feel like helping out past keeping an eye out, it'd be great if I could get another pair of hands to help me build a church. As for pulling people in-"

He pauses for a few moments, raising a gloved hand to rub at the crook of his jaw. It seemed to fixate on the joint of the jaw, aw if the action would work away the stress such excess conversation left him with. It looked awkward, somewhat-

but Ostrava, evidently, did not care about that. He fixes Arthur with a pleased look, afterwards extending his hand outwards- to be shaken? No explanation, though he does make a few side-comments after extending his hand in relatively succinct succession.

"If the prospects are attractive and people see strength, they'll come to us. For now? We just need to focus on building something substantial. I'll see if I can have a chat with Elren before long."

"By the way, the name is Ostrava."
(Ostrava Grauhimmel)

It did seem as a solid plan, if only to be executed after actually establishing himself as a public figure- of course, people had known about him, but it didn't feel as if that fame was enough just quite yet. The fame and power compelled people, and because of that, it was easy to actually sway what people feel and do once you've risen to relatively large status.

No doubt that it was the similar story for Ostrava as well. The presence of Oscuri as a whole could use some boost, too.

"Mhm. I'd imagine it's best done once the presence becomes apparent and known, because people are always attracted to people in the lead, but-- I'll see what could be done."

And there it is, his hand extended. A handshake? That's what Arthur perceived- he extended his own, shaking it with Ostrava, least there would be an objection to such move.

"Name's Arthur."
(Arthur Rowan)

"Timing on the actual church is mostly irrelevant, but I would not disagree. Just means we have a place to take people for conversations that isn't at risk of being compromised."

"Sermons and actual congregations do come later, though."

A brief explanation followed with agreement precedes him accepting Arthur's handshake, gripping the man's arm firmly by the forearm and returning the offered display. Shows of mutual respect always amused him for one reason or another.

So much work to do. Time was not precisely of the essence, but the agenda was... notably large. After the two released their clasp, he takes his stroll back over to the doorway. His hand presses to the wood and pushes with a bit of oomph. A smile remains on his face.

"Of course. Feel free to shout if you need anything on your end. Still recovering from a nasty injury, but I've got sway with enough people to help out. A bit, at least."
(Ostrava Grauhimmel)

Then it should be set.

If they wish for this plan to succeed, they had to work from the angle that allowed them to draw people in - and that's only possible if there would be enough fame and acknowledgement for both of them to actually compel people to their side. Until then? It could be turned into futile effort pretty fast.

At least, they've agreed on what must be done.

"I will."

"I doubt I would require any assistance anytime soon, as I'm also focused on my studies- but should push come to shove, I'll make sure to let you know."

With the handshake returned, Arthur pulled his hand back soon enough, if only to exclaim.

"For now, I must get going. There are things for me to be done. I'm sure we could meet later on again."
(Arthur Rowan)