Sketchy Arts [Ignatz & Eirika]
At first, he’s drawn to the garish flyer due to its vivid colors, standing out on the bulletin board like spring’s first bloom among the expanse of green. It’s not say an artist’s eye goes for vivacity, but more so for someone to draw attention to themselves in such a way, a reason must carry behind it.
Ignatz takes the flyer in his hands for closer inspection, careful eyes studying the words. The moniker is known to him, as he’s heard the name whisper across several families throughout the Alliance (for better or for worse, as the reputation that follows it). He’s never quite paid attention to her books, even with his love of history, as reading of lies and stolen tales would be an insult to those who actually lived through such events.
Thus, further inspection would follow his suspicions -- that is, could he work up the courage to go in on his lonesome. Even under the guise of wishing to polish his swordplay, Ignatz knows he won’t be attending for honest reasons. That alone is enough to deter his steps, fingers gripping the flyer with increased worry, not wishing to be obvious in his doubts. Was it unlike him to mistrust others, and thus the unfamiliarity made him uncomfortable? Or is it his usual lack of courage that keep his feet planted upon the ground?
Careful eyes scan over the nearby students, trepidation prickling his bones. Perhaps were he to ask another, it would take away a layer of nerves, some of the anxiety that’s crawling through his system like insects skittering upon a pond.
“H-Hello, um,” he turns to the first student he sees, a young woman with a river of blue hair that cascades down her back, “I was wondering if you were also planning to attend the seminar?”