A Bastard in All But Truth

Look upon me, and tell me what you see. A dwarf? A figure to be pitied? Or a true human being? [Associated with Strings of Fate Housed in Teacher Dorm H-1 Teaching Life Management Skills and Supervising the Host Club]

[mercury-lining-blog]

morethanhalfaman started following you

Hatter lifts a cup to his lip and takes a long sip. When he opens his eyes, he sees another new face.

So he decides to toss the empty cup at the other. Can’t have burns now, can we?

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

With surprising agility for a man untrained in the art of combat, Tyrion managed to sidestep the thrown cup. Turning his attentions to the stranger he sighed dramatically.

"Sir, is the sight of my appearance really that offensive? I understand I'm hardly normal, but I had hoped for a little more tolerance in these esteemed halls."

[dailishdaisy-deactivated2012072]

Not the best impression ((Event open))

[dailishdaisy-deactivated2012072]

Oh no. That sounded like someone who actually knew Sandor. Merrill turned, almost smiling before remembering that the Hound didn’t smile. Hang on. She’d definitely— oh! Down. Right. Merrill hadn’t thought there were any dwarves at the school. Not that… whoever this was looked like the dwarves she was used to. No beard, for one thing.

Creators, Merrill, get a hold of yourself! How did he manage to get on being so tall? It was horrible! Especially trying to talk to the grinning man. No wonder he’d been able to fling her about like a rag doll when those creatures attacked. 

“Um. Hallo.” Why couldn’t she have just gotten away with not talking? She was practically flinching every time she spoke! It didn’t help that Sandor had spent most of the time they’d met shouting or ordering her about. She really missed her accent. “It’s. Um. Normal? And… yes. Completely average. How about you?”

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

Considering that the expression on the Hound's face seemed halfway between a smile and an awkward grimace, it took all of Tyrion's composure not to laugh at the sight. Whoever was Sandor today was doing a very, very bad job of it. Although the little man absolutely couldn't wait to see the normally ferocious Hound traipsing around as somebody else. For now, though, this was definitely more than enough entertainment.

Especially since it seemed like the Hound was terrified of his own voice today. And very, very unsure of himself. "Completely average? Huh... and here I thought you would have been bashing heads together and slaughtering any student unlucky enough to fall into your path! ... Although it would be a tad messier without your sword..."

"I'm well, though. And how IS my dear nephew, by the way?"

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

[The masterlist terrifies me a tad, so if you could all be bros and follow The Penguin  I would be mundo grateful!

[dailishdaisy-deactivated2012072]

Not the best impression ((Event open))

Merrill knew something was off before she’d even woken up. She wasn’t in the Fade in her dreams, or wasn’t aware if she was. And when she did wake up, it was even more obvious. 

For one thing, Merrill always slept curled up in a ball, not sprawled out across the entire bed. She always changed into a loose shirt she’d permanently borrowed from Hawke’s estate, never falling alseep in a pair of trousers and a passable daytime shirt. She’d never felt this heavy before, either. She was pretty sure the other girls in her dorm should have been making some noise as they got dressed. And then she’d sat up.

She’d stared at her hands for ten minutes. They were huge! Bigger than her head! Not this head. Her real head. The elfy one with pointy ears and tattoos. This head was big and burned and familiar, because who’d forget it? A blind person, maybe. 

Another ten minutes had been spent staring into the mirror in the bathroom. Her look of wide-eyed confusion looked monstrous on Sandor’s face. Creators, how had this happened!? 

Right. Panicking won’t help anything, Merrill. Oh Dread Wolf why did anyone want to be tall? She was getting scared of heights! Calm down, for goodness sake. The best thing to do was… well, to get back to her body, really. But she could at least try and make like nothing was wrong. Let’s see… Sandor was big and terrifying. She could do that! She was an excellent impressionist. All right, that was a lie. She was horrible. Oh well. 

As best she could, Merrill lumbered out of Sandor’s dorm. She didn’t put on his armour because she had absolutely no idea how to. She didn’t change, either, because somehow that was… wrong. She also didn’t take Sandor’s enormous broadsword. Anyone who knew him would be able to tell something was wrong. Hopefully she wouldn’t bump into anyone before she managed to find her dorm and her body. But, let’s face it, that was so unlikely to happen. 

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately for Merill, the person walking through the halls today was none other than Tyrion Lannister. A man who knew the Hound quite well, and would probably have been glad to have his height... if not his face. Unlike most of Tancho Academy, Tyrion had managed to stay very much himself. The gods certainly had a sense of humor about them.

Still, he was certainly observant enough to note that the Hound was definitely acting more sheepish than normal. As if he were afraid of everything... and also quite underdressed. There was no armor, no weapons, no sense of brooding anger at the entire world. It was a little jarring to see a Hound that was cowering in fear rather than howling at the world.

What in the world was happening?

But, Tyrion was going to take the time to find out what was happening... and why it hadn't affected him. So he approached the "Hound" with a cheerful grin, hell bent on discovering why the Hound seemed so interesting today.

"Good morning to you, Ser Hound! How goes the day for you so far?"

[thesixthcourier-deactivated2013]

golden showers!

In the midst of this ‘body switching’ madness, where was Six, you ask? Where was Tancho Academy’s head of security? The man supposedly responsible for the wellbeing of several hundred students and faculty members, not to mention the staff? Instead of doing his job, the Courier was standing on the roof, surrounded by an audience of empty liquor bottles. As could be expected, Six was pissed to high heaven. Coincidentally, his bladder was full.

“Blue moon… y’saw me, standin’ alone… hic… without a dream in my heart… Without a love of my own…” The man found himself singing a wincingly off-key rendition of the song as he stumbled up to stand on the waist-high wall. He stared out at the landscape before him, felt the cool wind touch his face. Without giving it a single thought, the man unzipped his fly, and released a high-pressure arc of urine off the roof of the school. Serenely, the Courier watched the golden stream fall to the earth below.

“Ah… Thas’ much better.” Suddenly, he heard the door open and close behind him. Still in the midst of relieving himself, the man spun about to face the newcomer. The last trickles of urine splattered onto the tiles. For a moment, Six stared at the newcomer with glassy eyes.

“Hullo…” Clumsily fumbling with his zipper, Six regained a smidgen of his dignity—if that was still possible—by restoring his modesty. “What brings you to… hic… this li’l corner of th’ school~?” The Courier stood atop the concrete wall, dangerously swaying in the way that only the inebriated could. “Didja come t’enjoy… the show…?”

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

"You know, once, I pissed off the edge of the world. ... This is certainly a step down from that, but I'm sure you felt the same sense of accomplishment."

Was this the man in charge of security in Tancho? Tyrion certainly felt that he was in safe hands with this one. As safe as the loving clutches of his dear sister. But it wasn't fair to judge a man while he was drunk. At least he was wearing his clothes. And here Tyrion had thought this would be a good place for a lesson. Good thing he hadn't actually invited any of his students up here, or he probably would have been sacked for allowing them to view nudity.

Noting that the man was dangerously close to the edge, Tyrion pointed out the obvious to him. "By the way you're swaying, I will assume you've been happily drunk for the past hour or so. If that's the case, you're a bit close to the edge. And if you do happen to fall, I don't think I'll be able to actually reach up and pull you away. So be a good man and get yourself away from there."

Besides, there was always the possibility that someone might assume he'd pushed the man. For some reason, people liked to accuse Lannisters of terrible things. Granted, they were usually guilty. But Tyrion tended to get the short end of the stick in that respect, so he was going to be careful. Especially at this school.

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

[Sorry for not RPing in a while folks; I haven't been able to muse for awhile. However, I think I'm ready to try getting back into it! So, if you're interested in RPing, don't be afraid to send me an ask while I think up a good open and assign some homework to my students!]

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

being smaller than most ppl

Tyrion, in colloquial terms, does not give a fuck. He stopped giving a fuck a long time ago... on the surface, at least. Names can't hurt him, and so he makes them his strength. He'll throw those insults and names right back at you, with a little extra on the side.

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

alcohol

Tyrion is a booze hound, there's no denying that. When the gods diminished his height, they gave him two large things to compensate; his liver, and... well, there's no read mores in asks so we can't really mention it.

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

fingers

Tyrion likes his very much. And would like to keep them.

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

Family, the Nature of Man.

Family: Family is... very distant. Very difficult to deal with unless the members of the family one is concerned with are under the age of twelve. After that, it all goes downhill. Tyrion is not a family man to the rest of his family, nor will he ever be. He even politely asks the ladies he beds to ensure he doesn't get any... unexpected family surprises later on. No child deserves to feel the way he has always felt.

The Nature of Man: Is cruel, conniving, and usually seeks to harm others. Friends can be made, yes, but to Tyrion most men need to either suck it up and get on with their lives, or get the hell out of his sight.

[thesixthcourier-deactivated2013]

[[N.B. Do not reblog this without at least sending one (1) ask to someone who has already reblogged this. Sharing is caring, people, and we can’t just spam the dash with this without anyone actually getting stuff!]]

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

[Heya guys! So... I've been abroad and unable to work on things. Now, however, I'm back! and if anyone wants to rp with Tyrion over here, or has something I need to reply to, don't hesitate to like this or send me a message!]

[candyflossdrills-blog]

run for cover!! [open, zombie event]

[candyflossdrills-blog]

Misha nodded as Tyrion climbed into the garbage can. “Got it~!” Well, the plan would work, hopefully, but she was smart enough to realize that there was one fault in it- it left the odd pair a little too vulnerable to zombies at the back. After all, the can really only could be rolled forward. Yeesh, it sure was hard to think this much. As she was about to lurch the can forward, she stopped short, her eye spotting one of those tacky “CAUTION: Wet floor” signs…giving her a rare idea.

“Juuuust a second, Mister Lannister~!” Misha called to her canned up teacher, scrambling to shove as many containers of bleach, ammonia, and whatever other liquid cleaning agent she could find in her backpack. “Worst comes to worst and we get chased,”-she zipped up the bag-“Well, at least we can trip the bad guys up with a slippery floor~!” 

“Okay, ready~!”

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

Perhaps this wasn't the smartest idea. Tyrion could think of six or seven ways in which this would fail, mostly to do with his discomfort and the huge amount of bruises that would be found on his body come the morning. But with limited fighting ability and a school full of zombies, what else could they have done except attempt to pull a Macgyver?

Slippery floor? Oh dear... at least it served a twofold purpose, although if Misha slipped as well that would certainly be the end of that. Tyrion steeled himself for what was to come. He'd survived the Lannisters, King's Landing and wartime. He had survived numerous attempts on his life more heinous than this. He was Tyrion Lannister, and the world would hear him roar.

"NOW MISHA! GO GO GO!"

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

[t.]

    * What’s your name? Tamazuki.

    * What year are you in? Senior.

    * What is your worst trait? My selfishness. And my belief that I have no such thing as a "worst trait".

    * What is the worst mistake you have ever made? Not checking the fine print on my contract with my arms dealer. And indulging those who should not be indulged.

    * Do you think you are responsible? Why or why not? Yes. Because if I were not responsible, least of all of myself, I would not think myself fit to rule.

----

"Simple and to the point. A man of few words. Every school needs people like you, although I suppose your actions speak louder than they should..."

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

This Will Be Painful~ [Life Management Skills, Assignment 1]

At the front of the class stands a man who barely clears four feet. A man who nevertheless has the attitude of someone nearly twice his height. Walking quickly, he puts paper after paper onto the desks of each of his students with an impish grin.

“Now, your classes in this school will be difficult, because they will require you to learn brand new things and apply that knowledge. MY class will be difficult because you will be relearning old topics, and learning to understand yourselves. It’s going to be painful, brutal, and possibly emotionally scarring, but at the end you’ll thank me for it. Possibly.

Anyways, here are a few preliminary questionnaires before we officially start! I’d like these returned by… oh, say… June 27?”

What’s your name?

What year are you in?

What is your worst trait?

What is the worst mistake you have ever made?

Do you think you are responsible? Why or why not?

“Enjoy!”

[OOC: You can send the completed questionnaires to my submit, ask, or tag it SoF LMS. These will be used as prompts for future lessons from this class, so think carefully about your answers!

Also, try to send this in early so I can make an official register of the people in this class. Thank you!]

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

[Alrighty guys, it's almost the due date of this "assignment!" We've got six people taking LMS so far with Tyrion. If you want to join later on that's fine, but it would be super useful if you filled this in now!]

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

For your eyes only

What’s your name?

Okabe, Rintarou Hououin, Kyouma.  Ho-oh as in phoenix, In, the temple. Finally, the Kyou in atrocious becomes Ma in truth. Hououin, Kyouma...!

What year are you in?

Sophomore, despite my looks.

What is your worst trait?

Having fellow lab members-- no, friends-- that constantly claim me to be a delusional man-child...Tch! I don't suffer from Middle-School 2nd Year Syndrome!

But no..I'd say my worst trait would be how easily I can lose myself in something....serious. I've been too careless...

What is the worst mistake you have ever made?

Dabbling in time travel and poking about a government conspiracy...to say the least.

Do you think you are responsible? Why or why not?

It's my fault. All of it. I'm unable to adequately summarize my various mistakes. All the failures. All the retries...But even if I did; I doubt you'd believe me, Professor.

I want to tell the me back then:

Don't do anything careless!

Don't do anything rash!

Don't pretend you didn't see that!

Pay more attention! 

P.S. This might sound like a student's pointless delusion...but let me tell you right now, it's not. I've seen strange individuals in this academy...perhaps...not all hope is lost, after all.

----

"Seems like we have a resident mad scientist in school. Just what we needed to go along with the psychotics in the staff!" 

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

You Say Zed, I Say DEAD [Life Management Skills, Class Open!]

[wishofmortality-blog]

It started out as one of those boring days and Shijima didn’t actually belong in this Life Management Skills class. She had picked a teacher to her liking and she really enjoyed his class, but she had a reason why she took the class itself and always wanted to know more, so she always secretly sneaked into other teacher’s classes with the same subject because she just had that much free time.

Of course, the little outbreak was a bit unexpected to her, but it was her chance to do what she liked to do— analyzed people’s behaviour and reasoning. And well, the result wasn’t really unexpected. There were students trying to man and some others that tried to hold in their emotion and fear.

Thing was, though, that most of the time, Shijima actually had her metal claws with her, and this time it was no exception. After all, everyone knew how dangerous this school was, even without some crazy zombie outbreak happening. That, and there was a lot of students that did the same. It was a bit weird for a school to let a rule like that, if there was one, to be broken.

As the teacher tried to explain certain things, Shijima let out a tiny sigh. Maybe it was ironic that he mentioned self-defense class, since, well, she did indeed take that class aside from this one.

To the teacher’s questions, Shijima raised a hand up and even without the teacher’s instruction or permission, she asked him a question right away instead of waiting for him to realize that she had something to say. “I am not talking about myself, but let’s say someone unable to die, would they still be infected by those thing? And also—-” Lifting her right hand up as she paused for the teacher to see, she added on to her previous sentence.

“I have a weapon with me. I can help.”

[morethanhalfaman-blog]

The little man never minded or cared that his class sometimes had a couple of students greater or less than what the official roster told him. It was nice to have company, and it was also nice to have peace. Besides, it allowed him to flex his cerebral muscles a little and think outside the box about what he taught and what he did. It kept him on his toes almost as much as Cersei and the entire Lannister clan had. Well... Cersei, not so much. Poor girl had a beautiful bosom  but not as much brainpower as she would have liked.

But dealing with the undead personally was something Tyrion had never had the pleasure of doing. In books, he'd heard of them. The wights. The others. Those tainted by the undead became undead themselves, and then the only thing that could stop their approach was a nice dose of flame. But since he'd probably be deemed an arsonist for burning school property, the best that could be done was to knock them out and wait for backup.

The question gave Tyrion pause. "... I've never had the good fortune to encounter an immortal, but from what I know they probably wouldn't be infected. My basic understanding is that to be zombified, a being is basically killed before coming back. If one cannot be killed, all they'll have is a fairly annoying wound to deal with." 

Seeing the weapon, Tyrion nodded and couldn't suppress a smile. "Good. We need all the capable fighters that we can get at this point. You need to stay in the back, to watch for any sudden threats behind us. Everyone who can fight, stay on the outside. Keep the weaker ones inside." Which would usually be Tyrion himself. But nobody likes a coward leader, meaning he would have to stay at the front.

Wonderful.