Information

Stavros has a minion!

Crossed Fate the Blessed

Stavros
Legacy Name: Stavros

The

Angelic Telenine
Owner:

ElfAnanya

Age: 16 years, 9 months, 4 days

Born: July 31st, 2007

Adopted: 13 years, 1 month, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: March 14th, 2011

Statistics

Level: 114
Strength: 285
Defense: 285
Speed: 285
Health: 286
HP: 286/286
Intelligence: 360
Books Read: 357
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Certified Mad Scientist

He pondered his dilemma...

The greek meaning of Stavros is "cross"

The leaves were a beautiful green; not so deep as to reminisce of the winter pines that permeated the deep valleys of the north, whose harshly colored patterns were never diminished by the garish beatings of the vain sun... but not so light that one would find their memories whisked off to the more bountiful times of childhood, weaving the pale long strands of grass that rolled across the islands in the spring. And truly, their shape was most pleasing as well: ovals with attitude. Lovely consistent curves that tapered together to a point that was not gentle but hardly overpowering. Curved ever so slightly downward, they were emerald green sails that drifted gently in the breeze, causing their slightly lighter underbelly to flash seductively to the passerby. A shape most leaves should aspire to.

And if one were to comment on the leaves, one must also reflect on the flowers. These flowers were not hermits, huddling amidst their leafy protections, oh no. These were flocking creatures, gathered in bunches that shaped themselves into globes of divots, petals, and small valleys of pale internal pollened centers. The globes nestled gently amongst the leaves in lovely shades of blue that echoed the clear blue sky of mid-morning.

Really, he reflected, it wasn't a bad place to hide, all things considered. But for the love of.... couldn't they MOVE ON?

Rising his head slightly to get a better view through an opening in the leaves, he glared ineffectively at the group of students who had paused by the benches. His fears were well founded as the bane of his happiness noticed the small herd of blabbering fools and altered course in the direction of his hideaway. Most likely to ask the students if they'd noticed the lone fugitive running off in some direction. The itch to back up farther in the bushes was strong, but any movement would have jarred the bushes and besides, they weren't that deep.

Honestly, it's not like the professor didn't have better things to do than savagely (a biased assumption) hunt down a runaway student. It was only Etiquette class after all. Not like he was skipping out on his studies of the gods. Who cared if he chose the wrong fork? What morons put 3 forks in a table setting anyways? A fork was a fork was a fork! Blasted nobles always wanting to make things more complicated than they needed to be. Different sized spoons? Sure. Why not? Soups come with a pleasing variety of chunks of meat that could make someone desire for the perfect size spoon to match. But forks? Someone had too much time on their hands when they split forks into sizes.

Grimacing to himself, Stravos prepared to bolt from the hydrangeas and make a break for it. He'd be caught... he always was one way of another, when he skipped class. He'd be assigned after-meal cleanup duty... again. The head of the priest academy claimed Stravos was the most frustrating student they've ever had. But they couldn't kick him out. Ever student here had been chosen by the gods themselves, clearly marked for the priesthood when they manifested wings at a young age. Stravos had manifested later in life than most of the students, and maybe that's why he resisted conforming. They called him "trouble" but he preferred "worldly".

The gig was up: the students had answered negative to the professor and moved on, shuffling awkwardly away as if they themselves had been caught red handed with contraband. The professor was unfortunately tall and when he glanced with an annoyed scowl at the flowers had not missed the student hidden between the gaps in the leaves. The scowl instantly turned to an admission of a lecture. He could lecture air... Stravos had already gained a running start, and laughing, darted farther into the garden in hopes of finding sanctuary amidst the twisting maze of roses...