[One of the new arrivals looks as though he's been to Hell and only just come back -- gaunt, pale, scowling, and he carries himself with his shoulders hunched as though he'd like very much to fade away into the walls where he won't be seen. Bandages cover the left side of his face, despite the presence of skilled healers within the castle who should have rendered such things unnecessary. And, presently, he is trying to get the thrall who's been tending to him to give him his tattered old cloak back.
For a few tense moments, anyone watching wouldn't be wrong to think he was getting ready to attack the thrall outright. But the servant is so placid and pleasant that he stops, the expression on his face shifting to a concerned sort of horror.]
...you've no thoughts of your own, have you...?
[Whatever else this guy may be, it seems he is at least unwilling to have a go at someone who isn't in control of themselves. But he doesn't release the cloak, and neither does the thrall. He'll have to be persuaded to let the ratty old thing go.]
Pumpkins [cw: mentions of suicidal ideation]
[Time passes. Kevin is not convinced he wants to exist, but his maker has managed to earn his grudging respect, and he hasn't exactly settled on how he'd like to not exist, either. So, he goes along with things and watches and considers, and after a time, he decides to do an experiment or two.
Nothing like the creepy things going on in the basement, mind. No, Kevin is just pushing some boundaries a little.
After the pumpkin explosion, he can occasionally be found slinking around the grounds with pumpkins that still have live vines attached to them, which he deposits in the most inconvenient spots he can find. Next to doors with heavy traffic. Underneath tables in the dining hall. In a shadowy corner next to a painting he's taken a particular dislike to. Anyone who tries to investigate is met with a flat:]
It is my project for Revelry.
[And then, if allowed to finish up his little pumpkin tasks, he will deposit himself somewhere nearby with a bag of jelly beans and wait to see if anything funny happens. Spoilers: He does not have a "Revelry project". Deadly vampires with supernatural powers tripping over pumpkin vines is just sort of emotionally satisfying as a concept, you know?]
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the castle
[Kevin has no interest in the symposium -- or in most of his classes, let's be real -- and he especially hates being eyed like a steak by all these extra vampires. Despite his initial misgivings about the thralls, he finds his escape from all the annoying fuss down in the kitchen, where the servants see to it that the novices are fed. It can't really be called companionable, given the circumstances. But Kevin was a sort of servant himself, back before all the everything, and his grief for what he's lost is in a spot where the nostalgia of the bustling kitchen is more comfort than it isn't.
He won't speak up if any other novices appear, searching for food. But they're welcome to recognize him as the quiet, surly swordsman who silently roams the Blue Court halls sometimes, and lurks at the back of some of the first season courses. Kevin looks far more at ease now than he does elsewhere, sleeves rolled to the elbow as he peels potatoes, with a thrall seated next to him who helpfully hands him more when he runs out.]
Kevin Regnard | Pandora Hearts | Student | Blue
[One of the new arrivals looks as though he's been to Hell and only just come back -- gaunt, pale, scowling, and he carries himself with his shoulders hunched as though he'd like very much to fade away into the walls where he won't be seen. Bandages cover the left side of his face, despite the presence of skilled healers within the castle who should have rendered such things unnecessary. And, presently, he is trying to get the thrall who's been tending to him to give him his tattered old cloak back.
For a few tense moments, anyone watching wouldn't be wrong to think he was getting ready to attack the thrall outright. But the servant is so placid and pleasant that he stops, the expression on his face shifting to a concerned sort of horror.]
...you've no thoughts of your own, have you...?
[Whatever else this guy may be, it seems he is at least unwilling to have a go at someone who isn't in control of themselves. But he doesn't release the cloak, and neither does the thrall. He'll have to be persuaded to let the ratty old thing go.]
Pumpkins [cw: mentions of suicidal ideation]
[Time passes. Kevin is not convinced he wants to exist, but his maker has managed to earn his grudging respect, and he hasn't exactly settled on how he'd like to not exist, either. So, he goes along with things and watches and considers, and after a time, he decides to do an experiment or two.
Nothing like the creepy things going on in the basement, mind. No, Kevin is just pushing some boundaries a little.
After the pumpkin explosion, he can occasionally be found slinking around the grounds with pumpkins that still have live vines attached to them, which he deposits in the most inconvenient spots he can find. Next to doors with heavy traffic. Underneath tables in the dining hall. In a shadowy corner next to a painting he's taken a particular dislike to. Anyone who tries to investigate is met with a flat:]
It is my project for Revelry.
[And then, if allowed to finish up his little pumpkin tasks, he will deposit himself somewhere nearby with a bag of jelly beans and wait to see if anything funny happens. Spoilers: He does not have a "Revelry project". Deadly vampires with supernatural powers tripping over pumpkin vines is just sort of emotionally satisfying as a concept, you know?]
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the castle
[Kevin has no interest in the symposium -- or in most of his classes, let's be real -- and he especially hates being eyed like a steak by all these extra vampires. Despite his initial misgivings about the thralls, he finds his escape from all the annoying fuss down in the kitchen, where the servants see to it that the novices are fed. It can't really be called companionable, given the circumstances. But Kevin was a sort of servant himself, back before all the everything, and his grief for what he's lost is in a spot where the nostalgia of the bustling kitchen is more comfort than it isn't.
He won't speak up if any other novices appear, searching for food. But they're welcome to recognize him as the quiet, surly swordsman who silently roams the Blue Court halls sometimes, and lurks at the back of some of the first season courses. Kevin looks far more at ease now than he does elsewhere, sleeves rolled to the elbow as he peels potatoes, with a thrall seated next to him who helpfully hands him more when he runs out.]