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Ristar Black

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Posted: Sun Feb 02, 2025 10:58 pm

Characters: Izzie and Sverre
Plot: Sverre has seen Izzie carrying baskets or containers of baked goods on campus. After following her one day, he finds her stash. Fun times are sure to ensue.

Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2025 11:46 am

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Still reeling over the emotional gut punch the past few days had thrown at Sverre without warning, the most gifted mind in all of Chronos, if not the entire school, felt oh so weary. It seemed to be the same for most of the student body, leaving an air of fatigue that plagued every inch of the campus. There was no escape from the lingering dread that permeated every brick, every step, and every room in the campus.

But Sverre knew he had to stay strong. If not for himself, then for his beloved prince. Fane had carried such burdens upon himself for so many years; it was time someone helped him keep that weight from crashing down on him. However, it was no easy task. So many secrets were revealed on that night that Sverre had trouble keeping track of them all. To think that his lover had thought to handle all that on his own...well, it just went to show how much of a dummy he was sometimes. Thankfully, Fane had the one and only Sverre Falker on his side. And together, anything was possible.

However, it was a lot of work. The processing, the comforting, the kissing...the tender caressing...the kissing...it was just so much for one man to accomplish! And sure, if anyone would be able to do it, it was Sverre. And yes, this only took a fraction of his power to do. But it was a rather large fraction! At least 1/2! With all that going on, Sverre was beat. He was dressed like someone from last year instead of last month. But most of all....he was really hungry right about now.

His stomach grumbling like never before, Sverre decided to use a shortcut to get over to the dining hall: the library, a dangerous place where only idiots who didn't know everything already resided. The duke of time had no need for such literature, of course, so obviously he'd never bothered to go before. As he neared the entrance, he couldn't help but take in the scenery. My goodness, this place looks boring. No wonder I only ever spot losers going in and out of here. But before he could enter the domain of the dorks, Sverre detected a delectable scent coming from a nearby broom closet.

Curious, he opened the door to find what he could only describe as a cornucopia of deliciousness. Containers lined the shelves, and inside them were baked treats on par with the finest sweets he'd ever seen. Truly masterful work. This is the stuff that dreams are made of. Is there a master baker in the wrong position? Wait, no. The scent of some of these are...familiar. Wracking his brain for a moment, Sverre stumbled upon a memory from a couple of days ago of a quiet redhead crossing his way. When she had, the exact same scent had grabbed his attention.

As Sverre's mouth began to water, he wondered what they tasted like. How soft they were. If they would ease his weary soul by letting it rest on a bed of sugary delight. But if he did that, would he be doing wrong to that woman? Gentlemen were supposed to be for the people, not against them. Well, besides people who sucked. But Sverre didn't know the woman well enough to say. Could he really eat all these glorious snacks without knowing for sure?

The moral ramifications of such actions weighed heavily on Sverre's soul. He knew not what the purpose of such a stockpile was. Perhaps this poor woman was preparing for a grand event to showcase her baking skills. The fact that they were being stored in some random broom closet added a tinge of mystery to it all as well. Who was she hiding them from? One of the other students? Herself? Too lured by the prospect of confectionery treats to stop her production line yet possessing enough strength of will after the fact to keep herself from indulging? If that were the case, then...

Oh wow, are there walnuts in this? That's heavenly...

His hands and mouth moved faster than his mind, but all three had come to the same conclusion: to rescue this poor woman from the cycle of baking that plagued her so, Sverre would wipe the slate clean. Hopefully she'd be able to renounce her dessert-hoarding ways if the castle of sweets was left to ruin. And if she tried to rebuild? Sverre would simply bring it down once again. If she ended up thinking the worst of him, then so be it. Perhaps one day she would come to see reason. But it was not always the purpose of a gentleman to be loved immediately; it was to do things that eventually led to people understanding that they were, in fact, correct on the matter. Any rational human being would see that, so hopefully she had gained some brains after hitting the books often enough to try and hide such precious gifts from the world.

Location: Closet
Company: No One
OOC: Outfit, minus the hat

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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2025 8:19 pm

It had been a few days since the chaotic lesson in History class, one that a certain redhead hoped to never repeat again. The cries of the dying, the smell of destruction, and the burned image of that family in the fog haunted Izzie’s every moment. When she slept, she dreamt about finding Gwen injured and covered in blood. When she was awake, she remembered losing Ellis and the result of that small window of time without him. It was agonizing and far more than the duchess could handle.

So, what did someone with PTSD and not many friends do with their now endless time? She didn’t know what everyone else did, but for her it was baking. Cakes, pies, cookies, scones, anything and everything she could think of. She’d taken over part of the academy’s kitchen, building up a stockpile in an attempt to work through her trauma. Was it helping? Not really. But it gave her something to do with her hands and mind that wasn’t shaking and crying. Two things she knew her best friend would punish her for even thinking about doing. Just thinking about Gwen’s face if she was caught had her shuddering, her head shaking as she did her best to clear the image.

’No, it’s going to be fine. I’ll just keep doing this until I can get things under control and I’ll share the spoils with Nayeni, Pascha, and Ivy. Maybe Ellis would like to have some, too. I wonder if he has a favorite kind of baked good…’ Her thoughts raced with what she could create next as she headed for the kitchens. She had made it about halfway before she remembered that she had left her empty containers with the rest of her goods. Cursing softly under her breath, she turned around completely and headed towards the library.

As she moved through the halls, she did her best to avoid anyone that might recognize her. The last thing she needed was for someone to find out she was hiding all of her confectionery creations. They were sure to ask her for some, maybe tell others about it. It would get out to the masses and she would have to explain herself. She’d have to tell the staff. Her peers. Gwen. Nope, that couldn’t happen. So, Iz stayed as stealthy as she could. Which wasn’t saying much, what with her hair being the shade it was, but she tried not to think about that as she turned the last corner towards her destination.

The sight of the closet door open and exposing the interior of her hideaway stopped her dead in her tracks. ’No, no, no, no!’ Someone knew about her secret. Someone was going to tell! Racing down the hall, Izzie made quick work of the distance between her and the closet. What she found, however, was definitely not what she had expected and had her bright eyes going wide. A man, one she recognized from her classes, going piggy on her pastries! Already, the floor was littered with crumbs, bits of frosting, and half empty Tupperware containers that had once been full of sugary treats. Shocked, scared, and more than a little irritated, she gripped the doorframe and the still open door to block any chance of him getting away from her.

”What in the name of all the Gods do you think you are doing?! Have you lost your mind?! Those aren’t for you!” The words came out in a soft hiss, electricity sparking around where her hands held the door and its frame. The sound of it, along with the slight scent of burning wood, were lost to her as she watched him. All she could think about was what horrible things could happen now. And what she would have to do in order to keep her secrets solely hers.

Location: Broom closet near the library Company: Piggy Man Thoughts: ‘This man either has a death wish or wants something…’ OOC:

Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2025 9:18 pm

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And this one is like...some sort of berry...preserves, perhaps? And a reduction swirl on top? Truly magnificent. Not quite at my level, but certainly close enough...mm...

While Sverre was in dessert heaven, he was completely unaware of the approaching footsteps down below. It was only when a young woman came to the closet door in a huff, having clearly bolted her way there, that he paid her any mind. ”What in the name of all the Gods do you think you are doing?! Have you lost your mind?! Those aren’t for you!” The grip she had on the door frame and the indignation in her voice made it seem like she was ready to choke him out or something. And given the sparks chaotically spewing from her hand, she meant business. Unfortunately for her, so did he.

"Mm cmmph mmplmm."

Oh right, there was still a cupcake in his mouth. s**t. Holding up his index finger as a sign to give him a second, Sverre finished chewing and swallowing that bite of supreme baking accomplishment. "My apologies, friend. But as I was trying to say, I can explain." With quick, deliberate steps, he tiptoed his way over to his irate peer with a smile that exuded confidence that only the most charming man in all of Chronos could pull off. Defusing situations was something he'd been doing since he first snuck into a party as a youth. As scary as this woman may be when scorned, her frustration seemed quite mundane compared to the ire held upon him by the bouncers back in Chronos. This would be a cakewalk, pun very much intended.

Bringing his free arm across his chest, he swirled his hand as he dipped down for a bow. "Professional gentleman Sverre Falker, at your service," said the duke as he introduced himself with gusto. Well, gusto and a bit of frosting still on the side of his mouth. "Pleasure to meet you!" Turning back towards the treasure trove of sugary perfection, he waved over to the X on the map to delight that one could normally only dream of. "And the abundant fruits of your labor!" With his other hand, he brought the cupcake to his mouth for another small bite. He wanted to make sure he had every detail fresh in his mind. And this time, he made sure he finished chewing before speaking again. After all, he couldn't continue to besmirch his own good name like that.

"Seriously, brown butter and...is that a pinch of salt and nutmeg in here? My god, you really are a genius in the making."

Taking a step closer towards her, Sverre pointed to where she was holding onto the door. "Just not with whatever's going on there. Mind trying not to catch the door on fire?" God, what was with people at this school? They really needed to get a grip. Breaking through walls, causing all sorts of monsters to appear from nowhere, and now arson? Did no one teach any of the royals from other nations about basic manners? It was ridiculous. Still, he had to remember: he wasn't here to chide her all day. This was about helping the less fortunate grow past their vices.

"Now listen, a sugar addiction's just about as serious as any other. But locking away your problems and clearly not throwing away the key? Not gonna get you anywhere, friend."

Putting a hand out, Sverre gave this gorgeous woman the opportunity of a lifetime. "How about I help you out a little, hm?" he asked the ill-tempered would-be firestarter. Honestly, with the work he was doing in rehabilitating the student body, he should be put on the payroll around here. It'd make his schedule rather busy, sure; from keeping the Calvino family from imploding every other day to his moonlighting as Charlene's knight in shining armor, he barely had enough time to keep his pocket watches pristine already! But wasn't that what he liked most about them? The wear and tear that came from consistent use throughout the years? Helping people was one of his many callings; he shouldn't ignore it. Especially not now, when someone in such dire need of support was right in front of him.

Location: Closet
Company: Isabelle
OOC: Outfit, minus the hat

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Posted: Mon Feb 17, 2025 11:16 pm

For a few moments, all she could do was stare at the man. He had all sorts of things on his hands and face, crumbs on his shirt, and scattered containers at his feet. A quick tally in her head had her body almost shaking with emotions she tried to control. He had eaten almost a week's worth of her work. Hours upon hours spent kneading, folding, filling, and slaving over a hot stove. All of it, gone in a matter of seconds. Down the throat of this unknown man. Izzie was so overcome that she missed his muffled words, her brain snapping back in when he finally spoke coherently.

”Y-you can ex-explain…” She started, only to trail off when he moved towards her. Panic coated her features almost immediately, freeing her hands from the frame and forcing her back a step. This man had lost his damn mind?! First, he was pilfering her goodies like some common streetrat. Then he had the outright audacity to try and sweet talk her? If she hadn’t already been disgusted by the sight of him having his way with her cookies, Izzie would have definitely been now. Especially when he continued to stuff his piggy face!

”Would you please stop eating my food? That isn’t…” As he stepped closer, she stepped back. Every move he made, she countered. She wasn’t about to let him get any closer than she wanted. Not when she was as upset as she was right now. His comment on what she’d done to the door had her eyes moving to the frame, the scorch marks widening her gaze. Damn it, her powers had reacted to her emotions again. Iz did her best to breathe, to get past the whirlwind of negativity he had pushed her into. They could be cordial, right? Diplomatic? That’s what they were all there for, after all

”I won’t be catching anything on fire, Sir Falker. You need not worry about that.” Calmer now, she crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow at his question. Where in the hell had he gotten such a ridiculous idea? Did she look like she had a sugar addiction? Hmm, perhaps that wasn’t the right thing to ask a madman. Shaking her head, Izzie forced another breath through her nose and closed her eyes.’I can do this…He just needs to understand what he did was wrong…Like a toddler that touched something he shouldn’t have…I can do this…’ She repeated the words in her head, using the mantra to level her out as his offer drifted through her ears.

”First of all, I won’t be touching that hand of yours. It’s covered in frosting and what looks to be the insides of one of my tarts. Second, that isn’t all for me to eat, you great buffoon.” Her voice tilted a bit on edge, the words coming through gritted teeth. No, she couldn’t lose her composure now. She had to get through to the man. Without smacking at him like some over emotional woman. Regardless of the fact that she was, in fact, exactly that.

”Third, I do not need or want your help. I am fine on my own and will continue to bake as I please. Though, this time, I will see if I can get a lock for this door. Can’t have other greedy royals sniffing around my confectioneries for a snack that most assuredly isn’t theirs to gorge themselves on.” She wondered if she could ask the groundskeeper for such a thing. Or perhaps Sir Thompson. He had to have a lock of some kind that she could put on the door to keep arrogant royals such as the man before her from getting into her hoard. ”And finally, will you please either finish that cupcake or give it to me so I may dispose of it? I have to clean up your mess before Mr. Marco finds it and I end up being punished for your greed.” With her points made, Izzie held out her hand expectantly and gave him a look that clearly said she was not to be crossed. If she could get things back in order, she might just have enough time to get a few more cupcakes baked to replace the ones he’d shoved into his big mouth.

Location: Broom closet near the library Company: Piggy Man Thoughts: ‘Why do I feel like this is going to be harder than I’d like it to be?’ OOC:

Posted: Tue Mar 04, 2025 10:52 pm

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For whatever reason, the redhead before Sverre seemed to still be really perturbed by his actions despite all the good it did for her in the long run. Then again, it was a tale as old as time when it came to those plagued by addiction. It starts out simple. Maybe a batch of cookies a week. Maybe a cake every other. But then it stops being a nice little pick-me-up. It becomes a necessity, something they can't live without. And it would seem as though his classmate was caught in the grips of necessity so tightly that she couldn't recall anything else anymore. Thankfully, she was no longer alone when it came to tackling such a burden.

”First of all, I won’t be touching that hand of yours. It’s covered in frosting and what looks to be the insides of one of my tarts. Second, that isn’t all for me to eat, you great buffoon.”

Listing things was never a good sign. She seemed to think of herself as having "control" of the situation, which couldn't be further from the truth. Right? Of course, that was the only logical conclusion. Right? Right. Right? For ******** sake. Get it together, Falker; you're needed at 100% for something this bad. And yet he knew he was decidedly not at 100%. 99.98% at worst, but not 100%. Looking at his hand, he almost clenched it in self-born frustration but caught himself before he made himself any more of a mess. Had he really let himself go that badly? Was he really so out of touch?

”And finally, will you please either finish that cupcake or blah blah dispose blah blah before Mr. Marco blah punished blah.”

No, it was this classmate of his that was the problem. Thankfully, tuning her out helped considerably. It was best not to listen to the senseless gibberish of someone so clearly lost in their own delusions. It was a shame to see such talents wasted on pursuits so devilish. Although it does make me wonder if there's any devil's food cake among the surviving treats here...hm... Sverre would not act on that thought, though, as another came to mind.

From what he did hear about his classmate's long-winded list of demands, the woman had it in her head that she hadn't been making these various desserts "all for her." Was that really the best excuse she could think of? What, was she going to invite all her friends to a tea party in the broom closet? Sverre would make sure that such nonsense ended today. "You certainly make quite the compelling argument, miss. But why throw away something so clearly baked with love, right?" Biting into the cupcake, he once again held out his index finger to denote that he needed a moment. If the plan formulating in his brain was going to work, it would need to be done absolutely right. This poor girl's soul was at stake, after all; this was no time for games.

Putting his hand down as he swallowed that final bite, he took a step towards the woman once more. "Now let's say I did believe that this secret stash of yours really was for others instead of your personal stock of baked goods." His blue eyes were locked onto those of his classmate, a knowing smirk on his face. "How about you let me pay off the debt I now owe to you, hm?" While he did not want to see this poor woman delve further into her vices, it might help to have someone with an outside perspective point out the fantasy world she seemed fully content to live in. And luckily for her, it just so happened that cooking was one of the few skills he actually did have a hobby of his born from his years living with Irene. The third rule of living with Irene was that there were punishments dealt when meals weren't ready by a certain time or made to a certain standard, so he had to learn quick to survive.

"It'll be a simple trade: I help you bake some new treats to make up for the ones I ate and you don't melt me or whatever. If we get everything done quick, we may even get to avoid any sort of punishment. Everyone wins."

Luckily, this task would be a piece of cake by comparison. Literally, probably. The duke of time offered his hand again by instinct but pulled it back immediately once the sensation of frosting on his fingers came into the forefront of his mind once more. Honestly, he was embarrassed with himself in a way. Despite deserving such wonderful cakes and tarts as a reward for his service to his fellow man, it was clear that Chronesian Jesus wished to see more humbleness from him. And if that were the case, then so be it! "What do you say, gorgeous? Care to restore this place to its former glory and then some?" Yes, Sverre would help this woman out to prove that he didn't need rewards to do good in the world. That he was very much still committed to atoning for his sins. But most of all, so that he could release this woman from the blindfold that this addiction had wrapped around her. Yes, it was for all of those reasons and definitely not to save his own a** after doing things that might have been a little ******** up. Definitely not that.

Location: Closet
Company: Isabelle
OOC: Outfit, minus the hat

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Posted: Mon Mar 10, 2025 12:38 am

For a moment, Izzie wondered if her words were actually reaching the man before her. He didn’t seem to be taking any of it in. Like she was speaking to a really, really stupid monkey named Falker. Even when he spoke, it was like she’d been talking to herself the entire time. Had it not been for the fact that he was still wearing her work, she’d have just walked away. Why waste time on someone who was too thick headed to get just why she was upset to begin with? It was tempting, but she refused to let him go unpunished. Not when she’d worked as hard as she had.

The way he stuffed his face with the remainder of her creation set her on edge. And, even worse, he had the absolute gall to hold up his finger at her! As if she were the one bothering him right now. Iz forced air through her nose and out her mouth, counting backwards in her head to keep from striking out. It would do her no good to slap the fool right here. No matter how badly she wanted to. No matter how much he deserved it.

As he moved closer, she once more retreated back the same amount of steps. There was no way she was going to let him get too close. If he did, she was certain she would be able to stop herself from doing what her tingling fingers wanted. No, she could do this. She could handle him. Especially when he began speaking again and mentioned paying off his debt. It took her back for a moment, not sure if she should believe him or not. Was he going to pay her? Not that she needed the money, of course. It would be more of a symbolic thing, in her eyes anyway. She was tempted to take it, though the thought was short lived when he continued. Oh, hell no. That was definitely not happening.

”As enticing as your offer is, I’m going to have to pass. I have very high expectations when it comes to my creations, and I am rather certain you fall short of them by a long shot.” Iz folded her arms over her chest as she looked him over, her irritation growing as she took stock of exactly which of her treats covered him. The damned fool had done far more harm than he could even begin to know. She did her best to keep her breathing even, not at all interested in starting a fight with him. Or, rather, making the one they were already in even worse than it was.

”How about this? You pay me back for the treats you’ve eaten, and I don’t find a creative and untraceable way to punish you for taking what isn’t yours. How does that sound, gorgeous?” Sarcasm dripped from her last word, hating that he had even referred to her in such a way. What was it with men that made them believe a woman would just melt at being called such a thing? Granted, if it was the right man, maybe. But this one? No, he was a fool and a buffoon and a serious pain in her a**.

Location: Broom closet near the library Company: Piggy Man Thoughts: ‘Damn fool…’ OOC:

Posted: Mon Mar 24, 2025 8:26 pm

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With every step that Sverre took towards the redhead, she took a step back. Sverre couldn't blame her for it, though; as he was learning the hard way, facing the truth was easier said than done. Still, one couldn't stay deluded forever. One can't grow in such a stagnated place, and what was a school if not a platform for growth? If this young woman had any chance at getting the most of her time at this school, she would have to come to terms like he had. Hopefully he could help provide her an opportunity to do so.

It definitely didn't seem like it'd be easy, though. ”As enticing as your offer is, I’m going to have to pass. I have very high expectations when it comes to my creations, and I am rather certain you fall short of them by a long shot.” With the crossing of her arms, the woman began showing an increased amount of annoyed defiance against his sincere attempts at helping her out that definitely did not start out from him greedily going for her baked treats without asking. After all, how could he have known they weren't just out there waiting to be discovered? Sverre was a highly intelligent man, but he was no clairvoyant.

"Well, what would you suggest, then?"

”How about this? You pay me back for the treats you’ve eaten, and I don’t find a creative and untraceable way to punish you for taking what isn’t yours. How does that sound, gorgeous?”

She might be delusional, but at least she wasn't blind. That gave Sverre hope that she could, in fact, be pulled away from the trap of addiction. On the other hand, the whole rest of what she said was giving Irene in a way that made him slightly less safe prodding than he had been previously. He took a step back to give her some space to breathe... and hopefully reconsider doling whatever sick punishment her dependency on sugar had pushed her into threatening him with. "Woah, woah, woah! No punishment necessary, ma'am!" began Sverre, gesturing with his hands for her to settle down. Clearly there was no arguing with her at the moment, so he would have to play along for the time being. He wasn't good at taking the slow and steady approach, but the life of a gentleman was not meant to be an easy one.

"If it's payment that the charming chef asks for, then it is payment that she shall receive."

Going through his pockets, he quickly realized that he had no sort of currency on his person. It wasn't exactly like he needed it in his day-to-day life anymore. Or that he had any to begin with, considering he hadn't been the one with the mysterious income prior to making their way to the academy. s**t. Sverre wasn't nervous or anything. He had no reason to be. He didn't know this woman at all; her threats could very well be complete bullshit! So why did he believe that she was being deadly serious? Going through several versions of a smile in short succession, he hoped that his nerves were just overworked from the everything that had gone on as of late.

"Okay, so...here's the thing...uh..." began Sverre quite strongly. Well, as strongly as someone who didn't want to get burnt to a crisp could say. He had to survive. He had a duty to fulfill! He had to—ah. Yeah, that option was still on the table. But could he really do it? Did he have any choice at this point? No, not really. If he was really going to be a proper gentleman, he was going to have to make a sacrifice or two eventually. He just didn't think it would ever come to something like this. Slowly, he pulled out the only thing he did have in his pocket and displayed it to her.

"If there's truly no better option for me...and you need something immediate from my person...this is all I have."

It wasn't the most important watch in his collection, sure. He had gotten it a few years back at an auction, not unlike he'd gotten several others. But it had history. Sverre had downed an entire bottle of wine without passing out with that pocket watch. He'd made the choice to go to this school with that watch. And sure, he hadn't done so with the best intentions in mind. But it got him here. Hopefully it could serve him one final time. "It doesn't look like much, but I'm sure it'll sell for quite a bit at the local towns. Especially if I put my signature on it." The signature might not add too much to the value, considering that he was not in Chronos, where he was known throughout the land, but the rest of his words still rang true. And on top of that, he was giving the best damn pout he could muster. Surely that had to mean something to this addict scorned. If not, well...at least his corpse wouldn't be ugly if he got reduced to ashes.

Location: Closet
Company: Isabelle
OOC: Outfit, minus the hat

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Posted: Mon Mar 31, 2025 10:46 pm

The step he took away from her had her lips twitching a bit on the ends. Ah, so he was smarter than she had first assumed. All he needed was to be threatened a little. She made a mental note to keep that in mind should she ever run into him again. Though gods help her, she prayed she wouldn't. Once was more than enough for her sanity. Especially when he called her ma’am and set her teeth even more on edge. She had to be close to his age, and he was calling her ma’am!

Forcing herself to breathe, she watched him through narrowed eyes when he began to rummage through his pockets. What was he doing?! Had he gone mad? Betting on it, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing when he came up empty. He was upper class, like she expected him to actually carry money on him! Gods, this man was something else. With a shake of her head, Iz sighed softly and wished for the umpteenth time that she’d locked the closet. She could have saved herself the headache of dealing with the man before her had she remembered such a trivial thing.

”I don’t expect you to…” Her voice trailed off when he produced what appeared to be a watch from his pocket. Intrigued, she inched a bit closer and looked over the item in question. It was…different. Did he think she would take this in lieu of what he’d done? Looking back at him, she caught his words and couldn’t stop herself. She snickered softly and lifted her hand to her lips, trying to stifle the sound as she shook her head. Gods help her, he was too much. Whether it be pity or the lack of desire to take something that seemed somewhat important to him, Izzie shook her head and gently reached out to nudge his hand back towards his person.

”I don’t want your watch, Sir Falker. I just want your sincerity.” Leaving it at that, she stepped around him and moved to look into her closet. The mess still cut at her, but she did her best to let it pass. She took a deep breath and looked back over her shoulder at him. ”I want you to understand that these creations, these cakes and cookies and tarts you so carelessly devoured…” Emotions choked her up and had her looking away, her hands curling into fists at her side as she tried to breathe through it. No, she wasn’t going to cry in front of him. She wasn’t going to give him ammo to try and use against her.

”These were my love. My joy. My grief. My excitement and fear. They were so much more than just bits of food to be haphazardly devoured. Do you get that, Sir Falker?” Straightening to her full height, she lifted her head a bit and turned to look back at him again. ”I just want you to apologize. If you can give me that, a true and sincere apology, I will keep this between us. Deal?” She was hopeful that he would at least use her words to get out of punishment. Even if he didn’t understand her, Iz had a feeling he had some kind of intelligence. If not, then some sort of survival instinct. Anything that would get him to say what she needed to hear then be on his way.

Location: Broom closet near the library Company: Piggy Man Thoughts: ‘Take the out and leave, please...’ OOC: Izzie’s outfit

Posted: Mon Apr 07, 2025 7:53 am

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As he continued to feel the redhead's eyes sear into his very soul, Sverre could only silently pray to Chronesian Jesus that this murderous baker would show him mercy. His hand subtly shook as he continued to hold his watch out to her, getting worse as she shook her head. Was the watch not enough? Even with his signature on the table? What could be of greater value than that? Oh God, she really is gonna kill me! Sverre closed his eyes, unable to bear witness to his own demise. He only hoped that Fane would remember what sort of hourglass he wanted his ashes stored in.

Wait, did I remember to write it down and leave it by the liquor so he'd always look? Oh no. Oh no oh no oh s**t o-

But as she began to really take a look at his watch, some semblance of hope was restored. Would she take the priceless artifact and make her riches? Would that be enough to keep her from exacting vengeance on him? Then again, would it matter if she did? Even worse than the fact that he could still very well die here was the fact that he most certainly failed when it came to saving this poor woman from her addiction! If anything, it seems as though things might now be intensified.

He...failed. Sverre Falker, the most incredible person in all of Utopia, failed. The duke of time was mostly unused to this feeling, and it shook him to his core. Surely this had to be because of the sick machinations of another, right? There had to be some malevolent force twisting his hand toward sin! Right? No. Bowing his head down, he had to admit to himself that the fault was all his on this one. And while this one mistake surely did nothing to affect his place as the most gallant man around, the stabbing pain in his heart stung nonetheless. And a pain inflicted by his own hand, no less. Deluded as she may be, this woman had every right to reduce him to cinders. He only hoped that his watch would survive the ordeal.

”I don’t want your watch, Sir Falker. I just want your sincerity.”

"...Huh?"

Looking back up and behind, he found the redheaded baker circling around him. Quaking at her every step, he ceased when she ended up standing before the desserts behind him. As she turned to look at him once more, there was a haunting quality to her gaze that only now became apparent to him. And as she began to speak on the significance of these baked goods, unable to complete her first sentence without choking up a bit, Sverre began to understand why. ”These were my love. My joy. My grief. My excitement and fear. They were so much more than just bits of food to be haphazardly devoured. Do you get that, Sir Falker?” Of course. Everything made so much sense now! How could he not see it before?

Turning around and placing his pocket watch back in his pocket, he straightened his stance while the redhead requested an apology in exchange for keeping his honor, and presumably his life as well, intact. There was pain in her eyes, in her every word. This so genuinely hurt her. And here Sverre was thinking of himself as some gallant hero. Taking in a gulp with closed lips, he looked down for a moment. It was hard to face the failed results of his actions. No, it wasn't even just that. He hadn't remotely thought of her when he first went in here and snacked away. He was hungry; he saw something nice, he wanted it, and he took it. That had simply been the way of his world for so long, and he thought those rules still applied here. Or more accurately, he wanted them to be. He wanted today to be simple. But life simply wasn't simple anymore. Not now that he was actually living it.

Sverre looked up at her with trembling baby blues that slowly steadied themselves. "Well, then...I....uh..." Turning away for a moment and scratching at his scalp to try and make sense of what he wanted to say to this classmate that he wronged at the drop of a dime, he sighed as his gaze wandered about the various containers he'd opened without barely a second thought. "I...I'm...sorry." Those words were never easy to say and very likely still sounded foreign when the words finally escaped his lips, but she made it clear that it was what she needed to hear. It was what she deserved to hear after such a shameful display of wanton gluttony. But he needed to say it to her face, not to the ravaged stockpile of delicious treats before them. Letting out a sigh, he directed his gaze straight toward hers once more.

"I'm truly, really sorry. I was a total a** to you, and I'm sorry. I just thought—"

Had Sverre checked himself a second later, he'd likely have been made 100 times hotter and not in a good way. His mind immediately thought to say some dumb s**t about how he was trying to manage the symptoms when he should have been going straight for her ailment. Which was true, but it likely wasn't something that she'd take well. From her wounded statements just now, she so clearly could not—
"I don't know what I was thinking. No, I do. I was thinking 'Damn Sverre, those must've been placed there just for you! Have at it'!" continued Sverre with feigned excitement, bringing his arms out to display how grandiosely stupid his head worked sometimes. God, being self-aware sucked! But if he wasn't, he knew he could really hurt people. Exhibit A was right in front of him. Sighing again, he took a step towards her. "Listen, Lady...You." Sverre paused, only then realizing that he hadn't even bothered to learn her name. He'd probably heard it at one point or another, but it wasn't like he paid attention to other people most of the time. Why would he need to? Aside from trying to avoid being turned into becoming extra charred. But how could he have known it would ever come to that!? For a school for peace, s**t got dangerously tense way too often. It was quite misleading, really.

"Give me your name and I'll shout it to the rooftops. Tell me not to, and I'll only dare to speak it in my most private of prayers. And if there's anything additional you ever need of me, simply name it. It's the least I can do to atone for my actions today."

Sverre's normally bombastic voice was softer now, tinged with regret. He imagined what he would feel like if someone were to desecrate his watch collection. Feelings of betrayal, rage, and agony would flood his being. He'd probably cry for at least ten minutes and thirty-two seconds. And while this woman was putting on a brave face, he could imagine that she'd likely do the same if she had discovered this in private. His only hope now, aside from not dying, was that she could one day heal from the tragedy that he'd inflicted upon her. And that he could one day be for her the gentleman he usually was. Putting a hand to his neck, he really hoped that this woman would allow him that at the very least.

If it turns out that she's playing me and she is an addict, though, I'm gonna be so ******** pissed.

Location: Closet
Company: Isabelle
OOC: Outfit, minus the hat

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Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2025 6:17 pm

While she didn’t know the man very well, hell he was still a stranger, something about his reaction to her request had her…concerned. Not in the way she had expected to be, in all honesty. The boisterous air of grandeur that he had been full of moments before was gone. In its place….she wasn’t sure. Her eyes narrowed on him as he moved, not sure what to think. Part of her believed he was actually being sincere. The part that he’d spurned, well, it still wanted to light him up like a tree on Yule.

The sight of his eyes finally turning to hers had her own widening a little in surprise. Well now, this was…unexpected. She didn’t enjoy hearing him curse along with the apology, but it was a step in the right direction. While he worked through what he wanted to say, Izzie turned to face him completely and laced her fingers together at her waist. His antics had a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, rather enjoying the blundering fool over the prancing peacock. It made him more real, more approachable. Which was rare when it came to her and the gender he was a part of.

His sudden spread of his arms had her inching back again, to avoid any possible collision with his hands. She might be somewhat warming up to him, but that didn’t mean she wanted him touching her. Especially when he couldn’t seem to call her even a wrong name. No, this man might not be as cruel as she assumed him to be, but he wasn’t a friend either. Would she want him to be? That was unknown. For now, Iz would simply be wary of him and treat him in the same way she would a toddler. Small words and slow sentences.

”I truly appreciate your apology, Sir Falker. It’s the little things in life that have the biggest impact, or so I’ve always felt anyway.” A true smile finally curled up her lips, her features softening as she watched him. His request to know her name had her features flushing rose, her eyes looking down at her clasped hands. Would it be okay to tell him? She really didn’t want him to shout it from the rooftops. That was sure to cause issues she was not prepared to deal with. But, he had done as she had asked. So, it was only fair.

”My name is Isabelle, but most just call me Izzie. Please, don’t shout it or use it in your prayers. Just simply saying it will suffice between us.” Gods, she hoped he would agree to her terms. She really wasn’t all that important or special enough to be included in prayers or shouted about. She was just a simple woman who liked to bake. And who happened to be a noble, but Iz left that bit out and lifted her gaze to look up at him from beneath her lashes.

”Actually, the least you could do was clean up the mess you made. Why don’t we go find a mop and something to throw the ruined cakes into? It would definitely go a long way towards my forgiving you.”

Location: Broom closet near the library Company: Piggy Man Thoughts: ‘Maybe not a friend, but definitely not scary…’ OOC: Izzie’s outfit

Posted: Sun Apr 27, 2025 10:15 pm

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Gazing upon Lady Burns-A-Lot with an open heart and an earnest desire to survive seek forgiveness for his wrongdoings, Sverre could feel said forgiveness coming on as she only barely held back a smile. Clearly his charms were working on her, as they did with most people. They had just taken a second to kick in was all. Either that or she had decided he wasn't worth it at all and was preparing to flambe him. He was really hoping it was the former. Channeling all of his prayers towards him living to see another day, he took his hand down and eased his somewhat rigid stance. If he showed his faith through a lack of fear, he'd surely be rewarded for his bravery. That's how that works, right?

”I truly appreciate your apology, Sir Falker. It’s the little things in life that have the biggest impact, or so I’ve always felt anyway.”

Oh thank heavens.

Bowing down to let out a sigh of relief, he immediately caught himself and stood up tall and straight. They were still in a broom closet by the library; few souls would walk by to see what went on here on this day. Truly, he would have to be on his best behavior until he was in a public setting. But would he have to live the rest of his life with eyes on the back of his head? Would he get called four-eyes for it? He could certainly try to conceal them with his hair, but that would mess with his vision. On top of that, who would he get to perform whatever surgeries were necessary to be granted such sight to begin with? Most countries still performed such procedures with hacksaws and a dream. No, that wouldn't do.

Getting out of his thoughts for a moment, Sverre noticed another change in his would-be executioner's demeanor. Her features had become looser, allowing the smile to blossom. On top of that, she'd told him her name. Isabelle. Izzie. "Between us, hm? I'll speak it only in my quietest of whispers, then." That she wished to shift this engagement into such a confidential encounter was no surprise; clearly she wished to get him to stay hush-hush about how she almost murdered him over practically nothing. Probably wouldn't go well with the school staff and all.

”Actually, the least you could do was clean up the mess you made. Why don’t we go find a mop and something to throw the ruined cakes into? It would definitely go a long way towards my forgiving you.”

And there it was. Once again, the wise intellectual known as Sverre Falker had tempted fate and survived to tell the tale. Or, maybe not tell for this one. This definitely still felt like a no snitching situation. Luckily, Isabelle's request was simple enough. Cleaning was another one of the many life skills he'd been forced to learn during his time living abroad. "Sure thing, Isabelle of the Burning Door." He might burn for that one, but that would only prove the point of his nickname for her. Taking a look around the secret sugar shrine that he desecrated, Sverre found himself with so many questions that had still gone unanswered. Had she considered the shelf life of these treats before she stashed them away? Was he going to get food poisoning from eating month old cakes? These and so many others swirled around in his head endlessly. And so he decided to ask at least one before his head exploded from being far too stuffed.

"So uh...you said all these aren't for you before. Any chance you might be working on any public events?"

That probably wasn't the best question he could've asked, but it was far from the worst. Hopefully. Flashing a confident, gentlemanly smile to do something aside from masking his doubt, as he never doubted any of his actions ever, he did a quick spin on one foot. "It's just...you're really talented. You shouldn't keep such art cooped up in a broom closet is all." Stopping as his gaze landed on Isabelle once again, he put his arms behind his back. The slight nervousness in his stance had nothing to do with him having second thoughts about bringing up such sensitive subject matter. He just felt a draft or something.

Looking away for a moment, Sverre smirked at the thought of one of his few failings. God, I really ******** suck at this. It wasn't often they came up, but maybe that was in part because he kept running instead of facing things like this head on. Laughing nervously, Sverre looked back up at Izzie with a concerned smile. "Or don't! It's a free campus. Oh hey, my mop senses are tingling! Just gonna turn around slowly and make my way to one without any sudden movements, okay? Okay." Taking slow, quiet steps towards a mop in the corner, Sverre stopped when he got there.

"I'm going to make this place look absolutely ******** pristine for you, okay? Gentleman's honor."

Sverre would give Izzie another bow along with his dutiful remark, finding a sense of relief wash over him. But not for almost being a free man who could begin his mad dash to safety. No, he...felt good about being able to help someone he'd wronged? There was this nagging feeling in the back of his neck, calling out to him so that he might make this room absolutely spotless once again. What was it that they called this feeling? Having a conscience? Man, did that ******** suck sometimes. But not always; it wasn't so bad right here and now. Not really, anyway.

Giving a final nod before he got to work on fixing his mess, Sverre hoped that his classmate would one day forgive his actions...and for more reasons than just to be able to taste her baking again. Just because he wanted to freely do as he pleased after spending so much time and energy on others didn't mean he had a right to. It was wrong. He was wrong. And that was simply unacceptable. The people deserved better and Sverre would deliver even if it killed him! Well...maybe he wouldn't think about it that way in the foreseeable future. Best not to jinx things and all. Amen.

Location: Closet
Company: Isabelle
OOC: Outfit, minus the hat

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