petalblight / a private rp blog for tsubaki (fe:if) pegasus knight & flight (pegasus) instructor
affiliated with the blue lions affiliated with the officer's academy.
petalblight / a private rp blog for tsubaki (fe:if) affiliated with the officer's academy.
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chief of sky knights in hoshido. pegasus knight instructor with the blue lions, stationed at the academy to bolster hoshido’s international relations. as written by chanel (GMT+9).
potential content warning: heavy topics deeply rooted in body image and self-perception, including dieting and disordered eating habits.
portrayal notes.
I am not in the group discord. Please contact me through Tumblr IM or my discord handle, if you have it (feel free to ask for it!)
tsubaki’s portrayal follows the events of birthright (solo ending), king ryoma appointed him as chief of pegasus knights shortly after inheriting his title. hoshido eventually made a deal with the church of seiros, bolstering their international relations with a treaty that included exporting a number of hoshido’s unique breed of pegasi to the academy. a paragon of hoshidan perfection, tsubaki naturally finds himself stationed at garreg mach as an exemplary pegasi knight capable of representing hoshido and filling in for the church’s severe shortage of male pegasi riders.
as a parent, tsubaki's significant other/co-parent will be handwaved and kept as an anonymous background npc unless stated otherwise. if anyone asks him about his wife/significant other, he will be his cheeky self and say 'it's a secret~.' don't press further into that, especially with ooc jokes. thanks!
tsubaki's personality, voice, and speech mannerism is derived from the japanese version of fates. [voice example] [jpn script archive]
any pre-established supports from fellow fates muses stop at c-support at most. the exception to this are members of the hoshidan royal family— particularly sakura and corrin– and his fellow retainer, hana.
i use the jpn localization of subaki (tsubaki)’s name. my preference between the jpn and eng dub varies; i will match the localization name to however the mun of that muse spells it.
writing keypoints.
my replies are portrayed through an unreliable narrator, skewed towards tsubaki’s worldview. there will be assumptions about your muse that aren’t inherently true to your portrayal, but factored to what tsubaki believes is true about them or what his impression is.
mun notes.
a tldr of my mun page.
writing: I’m slow and would like to prioritize on substance and natural-flow over length. however, if your reply is particularly lengthy, i will try to match length so i don’t seem rude. i do format my posts (small text only). please message me about late replies if it’s been over three weeks since your response. (also i’m very prone to typos and sometimes misuse words, please don’t be afraid to point any errors out, thanks!)
shipping and nsfw: i have no intentions for shipping but am open to the possibility if there’s chemistry. i will not write nsfw on the dash, hard stop. if there comes a time for it, i’m opening to fading to black and/or moving that section to a private 1x1. i only ship with muns that i’m close to ooc.
content warnings: i will tag them if needed and i’m open-minded when it comes to fiction, so there isn’t anything i’m particularly uncomfortable with. i do love exploring dark topics and the human psyche, when appropriate.
portrayal does not equal endorsement. the mun does not equal the muse, etc etc. i approach role-play as an exercise in writing and not a billboard of my beliefs. how my muse reacts to your muse is not a reflection of my opinion to you as a mun nor your writing. any mentions of disorders and divergences will not be explicitly defined to avoid stereotyping.
thank you and I hope we have a great time together!
Had he? That can’t be right. Finn’s frown grows as he studies the man’s expression. Try as he might, the face doesn’t become any more familiar to him, despite the claims of seeing it every day. If it’s a lie meant to disguise his identity, it’s a poorly chosen one when it’s so easy to disprove. Even if he had managed to sneak his way into the monastery from the town, claiming to be someone he did in fact know made no sense as a defense.
So, for whatever reason, this man wanted to keep his identity hidden. It’s a game Finn is familiar with, having been in that position countless times while running for his lord’s life. If that was how this stranger wanted to play, then he knew the exact things to make him break.
Finn’s expression lightens as he hums thoughtfully. “My apologies, it seemed you slipped my mind entirely. It’s hard to remember everyone with so many more notable examples around. Remind me what your name is?”
Claiming patrol duty was a bold move. Even if someone was thrown into it as a last minute punishment, that sort of thing was usually recorded by someone, so long as those responsible were as diligent as they should be. No doubt it would be easy to return to the Knight’s barracks to find the records and prove this man’s claim false. No doubt as well that he would take the chance to flee as soon as Finn turned away from him, and so he turns to another approach instead.
He folds his arms together neatly behind him and nods towards the doorways. “You shouldn’t be so sour. No knight worth their salt gets where they are without hard work, and the less enjoyable tasks are just as important as the others.” It was something Quan had told him once, when he complained a little too loudly about counting the weapons in storage as a page. “If we are both assigned here, why not join me for the patrol then. Should something end up happening, it will be easier to manage it in a pair than having just one set of hands to catch an intruder.”
IT'S GREAT THAT THIS FALSE IDENTITY IS A LIE! Had there been a sliver of truth in this scenario, such as if he'd actually greeted the knight on the daily and the man still didn't know who he was, Tsubaki wouldn't have known what to do with himself amidst the devastating humiliation. In this scenario, it's amazing that he's become so blissfully irrelevant!
Tsubaki smiles up at the man.
"I'm not telling you." He cheerfully reinforces, determined to be uncooperative. "Consider that punishment for forgetting me. Maybe if you find remorse deep in your heart, you'll remember me~?"
He cants his head sideways, gaze flickering towards the doorway. The weight of the surveillance camera— both its psychological impact and its physical presence— is omnipresent to Tsubaki. He keeps his sleeves close to him and nods.
"Spoken like a true knight." They observe, before gesturing for the man to walk first. "Personally, I'd believe it better if we were to split and cover more surface area, should there be an intruder lurking among us, but you are my senior therefore I shall heartily agree with you! You clearly know best, after all."
The professor coming to check on them hadn't been enough for this obviously high-strung nutcase to throw in the towel, but there are plenty of things that Griss can say to make this scene worse for Tsubaki in front of all these students. Too many too choose from, in fact, that he's not fast enough to pull one on his partner before the redhead charges on ahead with his facade of companionship. So he just smiles and steps back to watch the student bring out the-- well, to Griss' eyes, it just looks like some soggy rice. But what did Tsubaki call it? Mochee-gone-nay?
Whatever.
Griss steps up to the mortar only half-listening to Tsubaki's instructions until a single word piques his attention.
"I'll get hurt, huh?" He doesn't look up, so right now Tsubaki can't see the devilish look that's taken hold of his face. Which is for the best, really. For Griss, that is.
He lets Tsubaki work the rice to get a feel for his rhythm, and before long it’s starting to look a little more like lumpy dough. Now’s his time to shine, so he reaches in with both hands and—
The gathered students gasp out of instinct. Griss laughs out of a similar instinct. The mallet had hit him right across the knuckles.
"Hah! We're gonna be here all day if you're just tickling it like this. I barely even felt that! How d'you think the rice feels?"
"Like rice?" Tsubaki says, apprehension curling the end of his sentence. He's not certain where the conversation leads, nevertheless of the events that had just conspired in the span of mere seconds. He does not share the same merriment as his partner. Rather, Tsubaki's lips press faintly into a contemplative line as the gazes of concerned onlookers sting unto them.
This was not a miscalculation on his end.
That much, Tsubaki was sure of. Mochitsuki is not a new endeavor to him; Griss is being an instigator. Such conclusions are not presumptuous: it's clear in his partner's tone and masochistic glee that he's sworn to damaging Tsubaki's reputation as a sport. With how the events are going, Tsubaki might not have any esteemed reputation left, should Griss continue with his deviancy!
A newfound resolve swells into Tsubaki: He won't let this menace have his way! So long as he squints and imagine this man as no more than two years of age, a rascal of a toddler to whom social cues and mindfulness are yet to be known, everything that conspires here makes perfect sense.
"You're so silly," Tsubaki croons, now sworn to his own delusions. Once again, he relaxes his grip against the kine. "You're not the mochigome, Griss. You're a person." He turns the kine in his hand, until the handle is pointing outwards and he lightly hits Griss on the shoulder with it.
"Bad!" He scolds, earning titters from behind him. He turns the kine upright again. "Now, let's take it even slower: turn the mochigome. I won't bring down the kine until your hand is clearly away from the mortar, okay~? You won't be able to get injured, even if you wanted it."
He smiles, sly. "I'm dedicating this batch of mochi to you and our newfound friendship, so… However this batch ends up, you have the honors of eating it all."
Where Tsubaki's expression tilts downward, Azama's trends the opposite direction, a grin teasing corners of lips upward. 'Uniquely influential' has a nice little ring to it, he thinks. He should introduce himself with that next time he meets someone new, see what they make of it.
It is now his turn to frown.
"It wasn't intentional, lest you make me out to be some kind of monster. I never took you for the sort to put stock in baseless rumours, dear Tsubaki… tsk."
Still, where does he get off?
"I've been representing Hoshido just fine, thank you. You ought to worry about yourself, first."
Gods forbid folks get the bright idea that everyone in Hoshido is a nut - a flawless, perfectly shaped nut, but a nut nevertheless - like Red over here. It's not normal to be that good at everything without lifting a finger, you know. Hardly normal to expect everyone else to sit at your divine level, either.
Azama's smile is never far gone, however. It resurfaces, somewhere between annoyed and amused.
"Say, what do you think I did to make her cry? Enlighten me on what image Big Bad Azama is projecting these days."
"I never insinuated that you were a monster…" They hastily insist, brows knitting. "And I haven't subscribed to any baseless rumor, either."
Their expression tightens, lips quirking into something of a pout. It's not a pout, however, because perfect people don't pout, therefore a childish expression like that would never grace Tsubaki's beautiful countenance.
He has been in impeccable behavior thus far, but perhaps there was a kink in his demeanor-- a nick in cultural nuances-- that Tsubaki may have overlooked? Why would Azama insist that he'd ought to worry about himself otherwise, if he were not equally wreaking havoc upon their kingdom's image? This is-- This is disastrous!
"You have a non-traditional demeanor that most find impalpable on first impression," Tsubaki carefully explains. "Many find you difficult to decipher, hence why you've made that poor student cry. Pay more attention to our sensitivity training, okay~?
"Now, why must I ought to worry about myself…?" The sky knight segues, changing focus onto the most important-- and pressing-- topic of their conversation. "I conduct myself well. Perfectly, even."
It is a relief to find that her companion has arrived and with the supplies they would need to complete their task. Alongside Tsubaki, she listens attentively to the remaining instructions Mr. Foley gives, yet she can't help when her thoughts wonder.
The beasts kept are fantastical, but to be in such small cages worries her. And if they are so feared, how do they allow themselves to be kept like this? Something feels off but she's unsure of what exactly.
Finally, Mr. Foley leaves, and Eirika bids him farewell with a graceful curtsy before turning her attention to Tsubaki.
"You are well informed, Sir Tsubaki. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She returns his bow. It is easy to note that Tsubaki is quite formal and well spoken, not to mention immaculately put together. In fact, in their albeit brief meeting, he appears the picture perfect knight. She is sure his liege is proud to have him in her service.
Eirika's gaze turns upon the beasts. "Renais does suffer from beasts of a similar ilk but they are born of a demonic nature. Long ago, a demon ravaged our continent of Magvel, and with his power he ruined the land and sent forth his twisted creatures as his vanguard of destruction." She speaks almost as if she is reading from a book. "I have killed many of their kind, but these creatures... they do not feel the same to me."
She walks among the cages, pausing to stare at a basilisk in a too-small cage that hisses at her.
Right. They are here for a purpose. "First things first, let us feed the poor things. I cannot imagine that they are happy in these cages."
Eirika turns on her heel and walks toward the bin Mr. Foley had pointed out earlier. She opens it to find a variety of food sectioned off from each other, the bottom of the lid containing a list of which feed goes to which animal. After double checking the contents, she begins the task of filling the nearest trough.
THAT'S NOT QUITE THE ANSWER HE EXPECTED. Tsubaki's expression is somber as he listens. Demonic ilk were not strangers to Hoshido; the Nohrians were once fond of sending over Faceless and Stoneborns past the borders, cunningly decepting the barrier the late Queen Mikoto had cast in a determined measure for peace. Not to mention, the late King Garon himself, in the final strain of Kamui-sama's campaign—
"Indeed," Tsubaki says, electing himself to shadow Eirika's steps as she observes the creatures. "Hoshido has its own fair share of demonic creatures, too. Though, perhaps, ours were more aligned with the crest beasts of this continent. The creatures housed here are made for marvel, not destruction."
As Eirika fills the nearest trough, Tsubaki takes a moment to analyze the buckets of feed.
"Wildebeast meat for the Hrulgin," They murmur whilst putting on gloves. He glances at where the pair of carnivorous horses await, tails calmly flickering, as their beady gazes wait upon him patiently. Tsubaki dumps the content of their feed onto their trough, then pauses as he inspects the content.
"This meat is a paleish pink. You don't suppose the contents of the feeds could have been mixed during the incident, do you?" He speaks, brows furrowing. A gloved hand curiously reaches out to press down onto the meat; it gives easily into his touch, leaving an indent. "This is not genuine meat."
Tsubaki doesn't believe in intuition. There is no such thing as a 'hunch' feeling; people who presume otherwise act upon biases. To him, there are only truths, patterns, and facts. He is not weary about this student because of something as flimsy and unreliable as an intuition. The man's skin is mottled in discolored patches by origins he cannot distinguish. He has seen his fair share of scars: from burns, from blades, from birth complications and all such in between. He has not quite seen this man's irregularities before.
"No," Tsubaki says with a calm smile. "No harm shall ever befall upon my liege, so long as I am present."
He takes a distinguished sip from his tea cup, filling awkward silence with a gesture of refined elegance.
"Do you believe that your presence here constitutes as a threat?" Tsubaki decides to ask in turn, once the cup is set down again. "If its a matter of age, it's an honorable cause to continue your academic ambitions. The pursuit of knowledge is a ceaseless endeavor, after all."
Tsubaki continues to smile, "Or, are you concerned about your hands? My apologies if it seems as though I was staring. I recently acquired a new bottle of hand cream, you see~"
He takes one glove off, then holds it out to the student, showing off its perfectly pristine appearance.
some of my threads might seem as though they've disappeared on my thread tracker. they're not dropped, however! they're currently written and put in queue; rpthreadtracker just makes them disappear from my threads list for some reason until they exit the queue.
in addition, pre-lore thread reply deadline: i plan on participating in lore and, because lore takes the entirety of august, i will not publish any thread replies after july 25th. these threads will not be dropped, however, anything that's waiting on my end after july 25th will be thrown into a queue and published after lore, in september.
i will continue to respond to minis accordingly until july 31st, where they will not be responded to/published until september 1st.
He takes the compliment in grace with a hollow chuckle. "How did you know? My belief is that it is all of the three." And a fourth, Bruno thinks, an adoration for being insufferable.
The more he pries, the more it seems that their hands are truly unable to separate. There is no amount of digging or scratching that will work, but he cannot give up so easily now — so he keeps trying regardless, glove wriggling its way into a crevice that will not expand.
But if escape does not work, then Bruno will pretend. Pretend to be what? Good? Righteous? Holy? A pause, and the thought escapes his lips: "What does reformed mean to you?" Frustration does not hide as he snarks ( perhaps, now, as-expected ), "Complete obedience to you and the church? Turning myself into you, the," he takes on the lilt of the other man's voice, "perfect role-model~?"
"うわー！You're already starting to look the part!" Tsubaki beams as his own bound hand flinches against this man's uncomfortable prying. His own hand his stubbornly negligent, limp as if a dead tendril, save for the instinctive tense and twitch that comes from someone otherwise unused to prolonged skinship otherwise. When Bruno digs, Tsubaki's palm yields as if soft sand; When Bruno pulls, Tsubaki lets his hand follow. There is nothing to wrench apart if the offending surface is pliable; Tsubaki offers the other little purchase to let his actions see any fruition.
"Someone who abstains from antisocial practices for week is considered reformed, right?" Tsubaki says, "Of course, adopting the appropriate behavior is a plus, too~ But as it stands, you are acting very naughty."
At last, his smiles dip into a frown. "Is a week of honorable behavior truly impossible for you? Must you always snide and deviate away from responsibility and sensibility? The church is not asking for much beyond a week's worth of upstanding behavior; you cannot even make it past breakfast."
DID SHE HAVE MORE TO SAY ABOUT IT? 𐂂 the summons takes her completely by surprise. it was a pretty brave assumption when all she'd asked was for him to stop scolding the students here so they could rest properly——so she's pretty sure pulling her into a private room isn't at all about what she has to say, but what he wants to say to her. her expression sets, hard in a faint crease at the brow. cautious, but she follows ; whatever his station, he wasn't anything more than faculty here, right? so was she. she could handle this. she'd been told during onboarding that title didn't matter here as long as everyone was willing to work hard.
the closing of the door feels like a finality and a trap. so does his smile, and the way he starts by pointing out how new she is. her eyes stay wide on him, severe and watchful, as she neither confirms nor denies. "my name's ananke. i work in the infirmary and teach healing magic sometimes."
none of that was really important though, and neither was his name and what he did. so without wavering, she gets to it instead:
"what are you planning to say to that student later?"
"We're going to review the course materials together." Tsubaki states, clearly repeating what he'd told the students minutes ago. "The illicit potions were merely means to an end; the real problem originates in his inability to comprehend the materials, yes? Even if he loses his sponsorship, so long as he carries the wisdom acquired here, there are other noble endeavors for him beyond knighthood."
Tsubaki's smile melts into a thin, contemplative expression. "Arin is not my student, but I would like to understand more about his predicament and how the other professors have failed him. You said relate to him, Ananke."
He holds his gaze on her, "Therefore, I am consulting you for your approach on this situation. I cannot relate to destructive desperation, as it stands."
He really served himself up on a silver platter with that one. Brows furrow in disapproval - of Tsubaki or of himself is uncertain, though the likely answer is easy enough to guess at: he's frowning, right now, in disapproval of them both.
Tsubaki's so-called curiosity is rewarded first with a long-suffering sigh.
Azama can't even cross his arms in annoyance right now - not without dragging Pretty McSmiles over with him.
"If you must know... I decided to act the villain for a spot - and then promptly made one of my students cry," he says simply with a shrug. The punishment, in his estimation, does not fit the crime, and Azama, of course, is more than happy to leave it at that. He deflects, preemptively:
"Suppose I should have asked prior to dragging my feet through the snow and the cold, but... you're confident in this endeavour of ours, I trust?"
But then, he swerves back:
"Wait. What did you mean, I'm the mischievous type?!"
It's not that Tsubaki's wrong, really. It's more so the fact it's Tsubaki calling Azama out on it that stings.
"Perhaps mischievous was the wrong descriptor," Tsubaki agrees with a nod, sagely listening to Azama's response. Here, his expression takes a visible decline. Perfectly trimmed brows knit upwards in concern, the corners of his lips skew downwards in poignant disappointment. "Let's just say that you're uniquely influential."
After all, what ghoulish professor goes out of their way to make their student cry? To Tsubaki, it becomes clear why they entrusted him with Azama's reformation— Respectable as a monk he may be, Azama's behavior must certainly be negatively impacting Hoshido's intercontinental image!
"Why did you make your student cry?" Unwilling to let the topic go, Tsubaki's frown deepens as he focuses less on their outside circumstances and more on potential reform. "You know, as a professor, there are certain manners expected of us… As Hoshido's representatives nevertheless, there are certain behaviors we should follow. You are aware of this, correct?"
The frog is screaming. Frogs generally do not scream, especially not in words a human can understand.
Ryoma brings the frog closer to his face to hear his voice. The voice is higher pitched, but it's familiar. It talks about its charm point and perfection and-
“Tsubaki?” No, Ryoma must be delusional if he thinks this frog is his sister's retainer. But if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it's a duck - or in this case, a frog. Ryoma has no idea how the poor man has ended up as a frog. Maybe this is a fever dream, but the mucous feels too real to be a dream.
And then the poor little frog attempts to drown itself.
“Tsubaki!” Ryoma shouts in alarm.
Can frogs even drown? They need water to live, but Ryoma has never thought about how they breathe. Carefully and calmly, he scoops up Tsubaki - frogbaki? No, too mean - and holds him in both hands.
“Calm yourself, Tsubaki.” Gods, is this really him? There's no other explanation for any of this, for the way the little thing shrieked and tried to kill itself at the sight of Ryoma. Those cute little eyes staring, frightened, before leaping. He wonders briefly if this Tsubaki knows, but if he did, he would not be so formal towards Ryoma.
He supposes that's an aside, for now.
“How have you ended up as a frog? And - why were you trying to leap into the lake before I pulled you away?” Before he really leapt in there, that is.
The contradiction Tsubaki plainly states about being the exception to no natural affinity for flight existing is enough to further confuse Joachim. Why would there be exceptions? Wouldn't that mean it is possible to be born with a natural affinity? And Joachim's sure all those born with wings on their back would surely be naturals, right?!
But the confusion and trying to wrap his head all around it, too taken aback, stuns Joachim into silence for longer than he'd like, unable to even come up with a decent retort. By contrast, Tsubaki's sing-song confidence controls the pace, and by the time Joachim's found his voice again, he's got a question to answer: one that he feels like he'll surely be scrutinized for.
Despite that onset of pressure though, Joachim vows to speak the truth here. No grandstanding— just pure honesty, presented in his down-to-earth way.
“My goals? Well, it's nothing so grand, but... I want to grow stronger. As I am right now, I can barely swing a sword correctly. Each fight I enter, the second I get cut, I'm down for the count.” Though the words are self-deprecating, his expression speaks no remorse nor frustration— only utter neutrality, as if speaking nothing more fancy than 'the sky is blue.' “But to survive, I need to endure. I'll be in plenty of fights from here on out, whether or not I like it. So anything that can help me live a bit longer is good with me.
“I know a bit of fire magic and swordfighting, so those have been my focuses so far.”
THE EXPRESSION JOACHIM DONS IS FAMILIAR. It's a callback to the past— Of steely countenances and the foul stench of blood; of the bodies that lined Fort Jinya's refuge and all their loved ones left behind; of the fear permeating off the freshly eviscerated streets of Hoshido's capital. In Joachim's solemn expression, Tsubaki sees—
(Sky knight apprentices as young as seven, gazes desolate as their knuckles blanch from the desperate grip 'round their training naginata. They utter their convictions like a mantra; some will not live long enough to see them through—-)
(A princess that he knows solely through his parents' demands; one of five royals that his life's purpose is measured by. A fresh recruit, she wrangles with her tenma and the grudge blackening her heart as she mutters on about her younger sibling, now lost, and Nohrian scum—)
(A townsgirl knelt before her father, laying cold on a tatami mat in Fort Jinya. Lanternlight illuminates her quiet, frustrated tears. She appears again, later, stony faced in the line of new samurai recruits—)
(His daughter, staring back at him. Her conviction unwavering, she is no longer a child to be coddled, always waiting for Father's return. Despite the ensured safety of her Realm, she insists to join the war at his side—)
"It's a noble start," Tsubaki says and the playful lilt of his tone cools into something mellow. He takes a look at Joachim again now, without the merriment, and ponders where this student's conviction will lead him.
"But, I wonder… Is there more to swordsmanship and the arcane beyond survival and endurance?" Tsubaki lets the question suspend itself in the air, "Our weapons are means to an end, of course, but— One does not want to be in a constant state of survival and endurance for the entirety of their lives correct?
"We fight, we endure, and we survive… And then what? Tsubaki cants his head, "When our knowledge brings forth salvation, what will become of us in its pursuit and after? You don't have to think about it now, but… Perhaps, by the end of your academic year, you can give me an answer? Philosophy is important when it comes to training, too. Remember that, and think wisely about why you've sworn yourself to the blade."
SHE'D BEEN PLANNING TO DO HER JOB AND STAY OUT OF IT. 𐂂 actually, she wasn't even supposed to be here today ; after working overtime after the ball, it was supposed to be her day off. . . but then all the commotion about the illegal potions had happened and suddenly the beds were filling up left and right.
illness, injury, back aches, common colds. . . it looks like even student-incurred complications were on their list of things to treat.
but she wasn't really mad at them, ruined day off or not. seeing them rolling on their sides and breaking out in cold sweats, groaning and straining, she knew most of them had probably learned their lesson. and the professor just getting in the way and lecturing them? well. . . at first, she'd thought he wasn't really wrong. they did have to take accountability for what they did. but the more he went on, started talking about how they could even show their faces in society, the more it bothered her.
and then one of them grabs her arm.
"huh?" aquamarine eyes widen, stare down, then flick up at the red-haired man. everything about him, from the way he talked to the way he smelled, screamed nobility. yeah, of course he'd care more about punishing them.
". . . yeah, i do understand," she says to the student, detaching his hand from her arm. "sometimes you have to do anything to make the cut." to the professor, she tries to keep her tone neutral: "this isn't a good place to scold everyone. they're trying to recover. they can't do that when you're being so hard on them."
“Scolding them?” Tsubaki repeats, only a touch astonished. “Sincerest apologies if you’ve interpreted it as such. The church demands to hear each students' reasoning; I am merely complying with that request.”
He casts a look towards the bristling student, his gaze summarized with only one word: disappointed.
“Of course I want them to recover,” Tsubaki says, lips pressed tightly. “Just as much as I want them to understand the severity of their actions. It’s that exact foolhardiness that must be immediately corrected– You knew better than this. Arin. I have not uttered any fact that you were ignorant to. This is painful to us as well, you know.”
The student grits his teeth.
“I know,” an edge of defeat is clear in his voice. His hand lowers back to the sheet, humiliation written om his features. “But none of the professors believe me when I say that its hard for me to read the course materials— Everyone else can and I just– I don't know. Whatever.”
The student flops back down onto the cot, then covers his face with the sheet.
“Well, then. I’ll let you rest and we'll talk about the course materials later, okay?” Tsubaki says, then turns to the pink-haired attendant. “You have more to say about this, I presume? It’s written all over your face, you know~ I won't disturb the students, but you’ve ought to tell me what’s on your mind. Let’s have a discussion in the back.”
…
"You're a recent recruit, right?" Tsubaki smiles, once the door closes. "It seems like we're not familiar with each other yet."
“Am I now?” Azama hums in response. It’s. It’s not a legitimate question, mind you.
Of course, Tsubaki supplies an answer anyhow, and monk finds himself brow raised. It’s not that he doubts the other, no, not really. Tsubaki has no reason to lie, and Azama has no- well… few reasons to care. Anyway: he suspects this isn’t either fellow’s idea of a fun time, and he can, in fact, think of a few other faces he’d rather be stuck with in a torn old cabin barely standing against a particularly angry blizzard.
… He can think of a great many more faces he would vastly prefer Tsubaki to, however.
“And you’re lucky to have me,” Azama chimes back cheerfully, with full confidence. “With my experience and luck, and your experience and wisdom, we’re sure to make out all right. And then!”
He smiles. Shakes their hands clasped hands lightly, albeit emphatically. There are no visible manacles, but that doesn't mean they aren't there.
“You can tell me what they brought you in for.”
He hopes the face Tsubaki makes at the implication is about as equal to the one Azama had been tempted to make at that cute little nickname.
With all of Azama's luck accounted for, they're still stuck in this shack amidst a blizzard. So, it must've not accounted for much, Tsubaki thinks. But that's where their wisdom comes in, no?
Tsubaki squeezes Azama's hand tighter in response as they shake hands, his smile rivaling Azama's. His gaze does not break nor quiver as he listens to his partner, then responds without missing a beat:
"To aid you with your reformation, of course!" Tsubaki chirps; the joviality of his tone does not mellow the intensity of his stare. Fortunately, his gaze turns into happy crescents as he lightens the mood with a trademark titter. "I can't claim that I have more wisdom than a monk per say, but I'm honored to have your faith."
Long lashes bat innocently, "So, what did they bring you in for, Azama? You're quite the mischievous type, so I suppose I'm a bit curious~"
"You at risk of punishment?" he echoes. Hollow laughter quickly follows, distracting enough that it leaves his prying hand flat on the table. "Do you hear your own words?"
Even if he disliked the power imbalance that the man had implied — "The church will always take your word over mine. All you need to do is quit and accuse me of attempting to break their spell, and someone will take your place, just as a professor would step out of detention for another. The only reason why you would stay here if my," a haphazard wave of his hand, "...sentence was extended is if you were misguided enough to believe that you had to stay.
"So what would keep you here, hm?" Back to prying he goes, as he lilts, "A misplaced sense of justice? A selfish craving of power over an equal? An interest in being an obedient watchdog for the church?"
Well, of course the church would. Tsubaki isn't the guilty party, after all. Tsubaki patiently listens to Bruno, unblinking.
"You're my responsibility." The sky knight says, bluntly. "So long as you're under my watch, I will see through your reformation with aplomb. The church entrusted me with that much. Therefore, I have no intention on handing you off to someone else, nor do I harbor any desire for dishonesty."
Tsubaki's tone carries an odd flatness to it; as if that much should be obvious. How silly that his partner had thought otherwise. There was no task impossible enough for Tsubaki to humor the idea of quitting.
"Which of the three do you think~?" Tsubaki echoes back, "You've spoken so much on my behalf already, so how about you answer this for me, too? Don't stop now-- Maybe if you dissect enough of me, you'll acquire second-hand knowledge what it means to be a perfect role-model~? Haha."
His eyes crinkle into smiling crescents. He doesn't stop Bruno from prying. "Are you some kind of genius~?"
