[ - is his clipped reply to kaveh, because it's laughable such a worm of a human would be able to even remotely affect his job. and anyway? those things are so far from alhaitham's mind at this point because the scholar is (unfortunately) still conscious and spouting filth directly past him at the blonde again - mm.
unacceptable.
at the slur and the bloody spit that lands at the ground near their feet, alhaitham's jaw sets as he takes a step forward, bending down only to yank the man up on his feet by the front of his shirt. the sheer strength involved in holding up someone at least his height doesn't seem to even register to the scribe, fist bunched in the scholar's robes and holding his body weight as if he were a sack of feathers. their faces are only several inches apart at this point, more than enough for alhaitham to stare the other down with a look so cold in his eyes it'd shoot terror into the heart of a normal man. ]
You have two options. [ he murmurs lowly as the man scowls back at him, deep voice even but fringed with something unpredictable. ] Either you apologise to this esteemed member of the Kshahrewar, or I haul you in front of the General Mahamatra. I'm sure he - and the other members of the matra with him - would be thrilled to entertain you.
[ a hand swats at alhaitham's, though the vahumana scholar's strength is no match for the scribe's. when he realises that physical retaliation in this position would be somewhat futile, he spits for a final time directly in the taller man's face and then laughs; a horrible, dark thing.
"Like I'd apologise to someone happy to whore themselv-"
- but, he doesn't get to finish his sentence because before he can get out one last epithet at kaveh, alhaitham turns on his heel and bodily drags the other man with him whether he likes it or not. minor scuffling ensues, but the scribe is like an immovable object at this point, his grip like iron as he tugs the other out of the hall and into the party.
pausing for a moment as he reaches kaveh, the silver-haired man gives him an inscrutable look and frowns, face still stained with blood. ]
Stay here. [ he states simply, quiet enough for only the blonde to hear. like this were a normal sequence of events to transpire. ] I don't want you to get involved - unlike me, you have something to lose.
[ because kaveh had been the life of the party just a short time ago, had been inspiring those around him, proving to the remnants of the akademiya why he's exactly what they needed to move forward - and alhaitham doesn't want to sacrifice that future, not on the back of one pissant.
and so, he re-enters the party dragging the culprit behind him, intent on seeking out the general wherever he may be. the matra would not look favourably on sexual harassment, especially right under their noses. ]
no subject
[ - is his clipped reply to kaveh, because it's laughable such a worm of a human would be able to even remotely affect his job. and anyway? those things are so far from alhaitham's mind at this point because the scholar is (unfortunately) still conscious and spouting filth directly past him at the blonde again - mm.
unacceptable.
at the slur and the bloody spit that lands at the ground near their feet, alhaitham's jaw sets as he takes a step forward, bending down only to yank the man up on his feet by the front of his shirt. the sheer strength involved in holding up someone at least his height doesn't seem to even register to the scribe, fist bunched in the scholar's robes and holding his body weight as if he were a sack of feathers. their faces are only several inches apart at this point, more than enough for alhaitham to stare the other down with a look so cold in his eyes it'd shoot terror into the heart of a normal man. ]
You have two options. [ he murmurs lowly as the man scowls back at him, deep voice even but fringed with something unpredictable. ] Either you apologise to this esteemed member of the Kshahrewar, or I haul you in front of the General Mahamatra. I'm sure he - and the other members of the matra with him - would be thrilled to entertain you.
[ a hand swats at alhaitham's, though the vahumana scholar's strength is no match for the scribe's. when he realises that physical retaliation in this position would be somewhat futile, he spits for a final time directly in the taller man's face and then laughs; a horrible, dark thing.
"Like I'd apologise to someone happy to whore themselv-"
- but, he doesn't get to finish his sentence because before he can get out one last epithet at kaveh, alhaitham turns on his heel and bodily drags the other man with him whether he likes it or not. minor scuffling ensues, but the scribe is like an immovable object at this point, his grip like iron as he tugs the other out of the hall and into the party.
pausing for a moment as he reaches kaveh, the silver-haired man gives him an inscrutable look and frowns, face still stained with blood. ]
Stay here. [ he states simply, quiet enough for only the blonde to hear. like this were a normal sequence of events to transpire. ] I don't want you to get involved - unlike me, you have something to lose.
[ because kaveh had been the life of the party just a short time ago, had been inspiring those around him, proving to the remnants of the akademiya why he's exactly what they needed to move forward - and alhaitham doesn't want to sacrifice that future, not on the back of one pissant.
and so, he re-enters the party dragging the culprit behind him, intent on seeking out the general wherever he may be. the matra would not look favourably on sexual harassment, especially right under their noses. ]