king of crows

@lorenzovalerio

"There's a fine line between bravery and idiocy." dr. lorenzo valerio; thirty two, italian, werewolf, brother to two, cookie lover, neat freak, brave, teacher of world history and history of magic, head of house crowsfall, anthropologist and...

675 posts

Standing in the middle of his office, he stared at the local paper, his expression growing incredulous by the line. It was all there, laid out in black and white print. Eleanor Pennifold -- the very woman who looked after himself as chancellor during his years as a student in Clearbrook, the very woman who scolded him in her office countless times when he was young and reckless, the very woman who gave him a chance and struck a deal to finance his expeditions at the end of his five year term -- was a lie. “Wait--” It was already a horrendous situation, but it was just about to get a little worse for Lorenzo, “-- this means...” his heart sank and his jaw dropped, “-- I don’t get my funding. Without Pennifold... I get nothing.”

#clearbrook:starter #bby lost the additional funding he was going to get #when he finished teaching

whitelighterharvey

“You should go and dance. Have a couple of drinks. There’s no need to hang around by me,” Harvey said with a smile. “Enjoy yourself.”

“Dance?” Lorenzo laughed, “The drinks I will have, the dancing not so much.” Sipping from his glass of whiskey he continued, “How many of these--” a hand gestured to the dancing array of supernaturals, “-- have you been to?”

#c: harvey faulkner

“Good ol’ Founder’s Day” the man said with a sigh, taking a drink of his champagne. Nothing like a century’s old tradition to make a man feel out of place. The airbender barely felt like himself, it was as if his well-groomed, posh twin had taken his place to attend this event. He was weaing a damn suit, something he hadn’t done since… well, he couldn’t even recall the last time he’d dressed up this much.

"Gerard.” Lorenzo said, a finger pulling at the side of the shirt’s collar. It was nearing summer, the current occasion which called for a formal suit and tie was no friend to that weather. “Enjoying yourself?”

#c: gerard linden

hadesaidoneus-god

“Will you watch the stars with me? We can talk about nothing or discuss existential topics. Whatever you want, but I would really love the company.” As an afterthought, he held up a bottle of whiskey, the only one he’d ever purchased in his life for himself. “I’m willing to share.”

Star watching? At his offer, an eyebrow raised, “Thanks,” Lorenzo eyed the faery, perplexed, “...but no thanks.” He looked at the bottle of whiskey, “It’s alright you can keep that to yourself, Warren.”

#c: theodore warren

Having just tapped herself a mug of coffee, she leans back against the counter, absentmindedly bringing the cup to her lips as she read an essay. Taking the first sip, she blinks her eyes in surprise, “Wow. When did the coffee in the lounge get good?”

He walked in, with an empty cup in hand. “Magneta.” He greeted his colleague, his hands reached for the fresh pot of coffee and poured it into his mug. “Good?” Lorenzo looked at Agnes, and then back down at the bubbling black liquid, “Are you sure your taste buds are feeling alright?”

#c: agnes battle

leoascendor-blog

In between reunions, talking with former friends, and teaching Leonardo hadn’t had the chance to sit down and eat. So when he finally had some minutes to himself, he took out the doughnut he stole from a coworker. Munching on it, he noticed someone looking at him, grumbling he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t get the chance to eat. So technically this is my breakfast and lunch.”

It’d been only half a day, and already he needed his third dose of liquid energy. Lorenzo walked into the staff lounge, and poured himself a cup of coffee. Taking his first sip he turned to find someone enjoying a donut. Lorenzo nodded, “Alright.” He waved his finger in the direction of Leo’s mouth, “You’ve got a sugar beard.”

#c: leonardo ascendor

lennon-bradshaw

Lennon finds himself in a bed, in the medical wing. His body disagrees when he tries to get up, and scorching pain ensues. “Well, shit…” He curses, carefully examining the bandages on his arm. He doesn’t remember what happened, exactly. But he assumes, from the fact that it was full moon, he’d gone crazy and attacked someone, got his ass kicked. “Ow.”

He’d just finished visiting a student in the infirmary. The crow had tried jumping over a fence and into one of Lothering’s estates, and nearly getting impaled. Upon hearing such news, Lorenzo wasn’t happy -- neither was he after seeing the student. Walking through the ward, Lennon caught his eyes, “What the hell happened to you?”

#c: lennon bradshaw

“We’re not lost, ‘kay?”

Vince blinked with a look of surprise, cringing a bit when the tree was slashed. He was thinking more of tying a ribbon on the branch. “That works too.” He commented. “Let’s hope we wouldn’t need it.”

“Aw, are you concerned of my safety, Lorenzo? That’s so sweet of you.” His anxiety was well-masked by a hollow chuckle. He was aware of the danger of starved manticores. But he didn’t look for a cover or start to run. Instead, Vince dropped the backpack. He saw a better chance of making it out of here alive in two versus one. “Here, drink this.” He took out two flasks of golden liquid and dropped one on Lorenzo’s palm. “Antidote– wouldn’t last long but, it’s an insurance.” He explained before chugging down his. It didn’t taste good, but he couldn’t complain at the moment. Then he drew one of the three remaining flasks, a scarlet liquid of something he called ‘red hot chili pepper’.

The Manticore didn’t seem to take them as threats, more of preys or dinner. Vince steadied himself for the next move. When the beast charged forward, he hurled both flasks at it. The glasses broke and released the concoctions. Mixed in the air, it created a micro-combustion in the face of manticore, affecting its eyes and hearing for few moments buying them some advantage. “Alright, next one,” he murmured to himself as he took out the next trick from his belt.

“What are you, Santa Claus?” He looked at Vince, strangely, and then down at the vial that had been pressed into his palm. “Alright.” Lorenzo said, looking at the liquid warily, before ingesting it. It wasn’t a pleasant taste, but neither was the metallic taste of blood while you lay there paralysed as a manticore feasted on your parts. “This potion, concoction, whatever it is -- better not mess with my abilities. Otherwise, we’re on,” His eyes darted towards the beast, “--it’s menu.”

His claws grew out from his hands, ready to dig into whatever came at him. Lorenzo didn’t immediately run to meet the beast, instead he watched at Vince’s handy work stunned it for a little while. “Maybe you really are Santa Claus.” He joked, moving into position to blind the creature.

As soon as the effects wore off the manticore’s eyes, the werewolf growled and began to slash the animal. Blood splattered onto the floor, and soaked on to his shirt too. It fought back, hungrily and viciously at first but as it’s stamina died down -- Lorenzo had the upper hand. The beast lay whimpering on the forest ground, bleeding into the soil. He stood over the dying manticore, then bowed down to deliver the final blow. “That’s one.”

He turned, to see if Vince was still alive, and indeed he was. His keen werewolf hearing picked up a slight ruffle amongst the trees, “There’s another one.” He growled, eyes illuminating once more.

#c: vince sullivan #THIS IS LATE AS F I KNOW IM SORRY <3

ryan--ok-deactivated20151015

Ryan burst out laughing, shaking her head. “No no! I didn’t mean it like that! You have a cool card, don’t worry about it, Teach.” She grinned at him. “I just meant like my idea of a trip away for a few days was sizzled out to a day at the museum. It’s cool though! Probably a better idea anyway, if we go away one of us is bound to fuck up something, I think we’re accident prone as an institution, I love it.”

"That’s what I thought.” Lorenzo chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Going away...” Interesting, he thought. Chaos, he thought next. His fingers scratched the back of his head, “Tell you what Clarkson. If you put together possible places to visit, with in reason and viability of course, I may have a look at it and see if I can run it by the chancellor.” Lorenzo nodded, “Very accident prone.”

#c: ryan clarkson

Agnes managed a wry grin, but could hardly hide her concern. Lorenzo was a werewolf, sure, he’d heal up eventually. But these were Manticore scratches – laced with poison, making them significantly more difficult to heal. “Maybe another time,” she mumbled, glancing at his back, having to hide the shock that hit her at the sight of all the blood, “Come on. Let’s just regroup first, ‘kay?’ she said, looking around, sweaing she saw something move in the glade nearby. “There’s a cave not far from here. We can just hang back there, then come back for round two.” Agnes wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer at this point.

He blinked furiously, trying to keep his pain in check, allowing himself to heal well. “Is the fear of manticores getting to you?” He joked, a coarse laugh left his lips. “There might be more out there. If we re-group now, we lose ‘em.” incredibly the pain in his back was reducing little by little -- going numb. He stood on his two feet, and looked at Agnes baffled by such a speedy recovery. “Would you look at that?” He smiled at the earthbender. The manticore may be dead, but it’s poison still had the capability of rendering a victim of it’s hunger paralysed -- the same poison that now sat in Lorenzo’s veins. “Alright,” He felt a little out of balance, perhaps the cave wasn’t a bad plan, “let’s go.” He parted his legs to take a step, but instead fell to the ground. “I can’t move.” He said, looking at Agnes helplessly.

#c: agnes battle

christina-laurent

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Christina asked, glancing at the person behind her.

"Vandalism. Disrespect of a prized and historical institution. Perhaps someone who wasn’t held enough as a child.” Lorenzo listed, grimly, clearly unimpressed by the girl’s work on the walls. “Shall I go on?” A brow arched upwards, his arms crossed, “Would you like to explain yourself to me here, in my office, or the Chancellor’s?”

#c: Christina Laurent

ryan--ok-deactivated20151015

“Ah but Pennifold isn’t that scary, right?” Ryan grinned though she then scrunched up her nose at the offer of the museum. “You made this idea less exciting so quickly.” The girl laughed then and shrugged her shoulders, “Yeah, actually that might be pretty fun. I think I’ve read some history books which were pretty cool.” And by read she meant looking over a few pages of books she found in Robb’s apartment. Possibly more World History that just History of Magic but still, Ryan was proud of herself regardless.

Lorenzo shrugged, “She can be when she wants to be.” He found himself thinking back to the time when he was a student, and the multiple times he had been sentenced to her office for doing something along with his fellow Crows. He chuckled, “If you don’t want to hang out with me Clarkson, you don’t have to.” Lorenzo said, teasingly, “Very cool.”

#c: ryan clarkson

“What’s wrong with me!? What’s wrong with you!? Why do you have your phone out and they say I’m incapable of living without technology!” yelled the wolf back frantically as she kept looking over her shoulders. “I would rather have that fucking fire than those things coming after me! These ugly looking creatures are a few feet away and it would be a good idea if you run now!”

At her strange outburst, Lorenzo looked at her incredulously, "Shut up, Alves. My mother called.” She kept looking over her shoulders, as if something had been hunting her and chasing her down. Fear filled the air. “What creatures?”

#c: thais alves

Agnes frowned a little. Seeing Lorenzo in pain was, in a way, painful as well. She knew his werewolf healing would kick in sooner or later, but still. “Well – at least scars as sexy,” she jested, smiling wistfully at her colleague, still holding onto Lorenzo. “Can you walk? We better keep moving unless we want go for round two with a couple other Manticores … or was that the plan?” she asked, uncertain whether or not Lorenzo would need a break to recover from his injuries if they were to continue thinning the herd of Manticores.

"I’m glad my girlfriend is in support.” Lorenzo said, his tone although meant to be playful was overpowered by the wincing of pain. “That was a good shirt too. I’m billing that manticore.” He nodded at her question. Slowly, he tried straightening his back and walking. A hand reached back to assess the damage, bad decision. The bloody muscle quivered, he could feel the deepness of the cut. Even though pain shot down his back with every step he took, Lorenzo decided to walk it off. “Let’s go find some more and put them down.”

#c: agnes battle

“We’re not lost, ‘kay?”

Vince’s eyes followed the finger. He didn’t notice what Lorenzo seemed to have. He stares at the tree, then catches up with the other. “Maybe we should mark some trees or places, in case we return here again.” He suggested as he fixed the straps of the backpack.

“Well, see? You know where you’re going. So relatively, we’re not that lost.” He insisted in a playful way at this point. A part of him feels guilty of course, for leading them to off the track. “You’re the boss.”

All it took was a deep breath to calm down the initial panic. Vince rationalized that such reaction helped no one. He might not fit for a combat, not exactly, but as a witch who can’t use magic, he had to pick up few tricks to keep himself safe. “I wasn’t planning to…” He said under the breath, eyeing the beast cautiously. The first thing came up in his mind was that manticores deployed poison, and that he had brought antidotes when he was told that there was gonna be manticores. He also brought other potions and poisons… His hand landed on the belt, ready to throw a flask. “Alright, what’s our game here?” asked him calmly. “Fight or flight?”

Growing impatient, Lorenzo’s claws came out and slashed the tree’s rough bark. Fragments scattered onto the forest’s floor. “Done.” He said, “That should do the trick should we ever venture this way again.” His claws retracted back into his hands.

“We should be back at the main site by now.” Lorenzo said, looking up at the clouds, “It’ll be dark in the next two hours, and if we’re going to be lost, travelling back there will take some more time than that in the dark.”

The beast growled, looking at the two men as if they were a good day’s meal -- which they were. Lorenzo weighed his options. Running -- he could run, his partner on the other hand would get eaten alive. Manticores were vicious when hungry, they dined upon all sorts of animals -- and the supernatural humanoid ones were not exception to the rule. “We fight.” The werewolf stepped in front of Vince, making himself bigger in the manticore’s presence. The creature started to close in on the duo, licking it’s lips and revealing three rows of teeth. “Stay back--” His eyes glowed yellow, claws came back out again, “-- and find a good hiding place if you can.”

#c: vince sullivan

catherine-forbin

History at the Round Table | Lorenzo & Catherine

catherine-forbin

“Then you are missing out, Mr. Valerio” she replied with a gracious smile. The dish she was thinking of ordering had her stamp of approval in every way. Born a noblewoman, well-acquainted with refined flavours and the fanciest of foods, Catherine considered herself a good authority when it came to French cuisine nowadays. The Whitelighter’s lips curved into a soft smile when the professor decided to other that same dish as well “Well, now my good word is on the line. I hope that you shall enjoy it”. She picked up the glass of water that was set before her and took a sip “Did you know that this dish originates from Provence? Throughout history Provençal cuisine has had three foundations: olive oil, garlic and aromatic herbs. All three are in the Soupe de Poisson à la Rouille, of course. Jean-Noël Escudier, an author on the history of Provençal food said that the king of Provence is the olive tree. I always found the monicker suited the olive tree far too well. There is no good cuisine without good olive oil, after all. There’s some history for you, Mr. Valerio” she finished, a gentle smile settling on her lips. The purpose of this dinner had been to discuss history, after all.

"I’ll take your word for it, Catherine.” Lorenzo grinned, he liked eating protein rich foods -- steak, chicken, lamb. How well a fish soup and vegetables would fair in this palette made him think that he may not particularly enjoy it as much as he would a good ol’ steak. “If it’s coming so highly recommended,” He smirked, “I ought to give it a go.” As the two were set on the dishes they were having for the night, Lorenzo politely motioned for a waitress to attend to them. “We’ll be having the Soupe de Poison Rouille?” The werewolf said, looking cluelessly at Catherine, sure that he had butchered the name. “That’s some very interesting history of French cuisine, Ms. Forbin.” He smiled, “Although what I really did what to discuss this evening was the French Revolution.”

#c: catherine forbin

Agnes stayed back, allowing Lorenzo to take the creature down. It was amazing, seeing a werewolf, in its element, unbridled and ferocious. Keeping an eye out for other Manticores, she stayed alert. When it appeared the Manticore was down and Lorenzo turned back towards her, her eyes widened in an instant, seeing the creature leap for the history professor, sinking its teeth into his back, “No,” Agnes snarled, stretching out both her hands. It was a trick she’d learned from her father, an effective way of getting rid of unwanted rodents, like rats and mice in the garage. Her fingertips tingled, feeling all that iron, tied to the blood cells of the Manticore. All she had to do now … was pull. In an instant, little specks of blood shot out of the creature, along with tiny, invisible to the naked eye, clumps of iron. The feat, quite literally, perforated the creature’s entire body, rendering it limp and lifeless within seconds. Swooping down to support Lorenzo’s weight, both her arms hooked around his torso, “Lorenzo, you ‘kay?” she breathed, trying to see how bad his injury was.

Searing fiery bursts pulsated around the wound, intensifying with each movement of his back, jarring and brutal. How did he not see that coming? Lorenzo’s eyes returned to their bright blue. The yellow glow faded, as did the hair from his face and the transformation reversed. The werewolf closed his eyes as pangs of agonising pain, courtesy of ignorance and a four foot ferocious manticore, throbbed in his back. Three rows of teeth those buggers had, three. Next thing he knew: the creature was dead, and Agnes’s arms supported him up. “I’m alright.” Lorenzo said, through gritted teeth, “That’s definitely going to scar.” He could feel his skin tightening around the wound, he’d be healed soon.

#c: agnes battle

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