Awkward.
If he were forced to pick a word to describe the current atmosphere, awkward would have been it. With tense being a close second.
The team's common room had already divided itself in two. Or perhaps, two and a half would be more apt, given that while his dwarven teammate had wasted no time in sidling up to him, his orcish one was hanging back a bit.
And across from the three of them sat the team's two elves. Of dark and light complexion respectively, the two young noblewomen seemed united in their mutual distaste for both him and the two peasants they were apparently going to be forced to spend the next four years with.
"I realize that your standards for companionship are likely low, but must you encourage them like that?" the high elf finally grunted, blue eyes glaring at him contemptuously.
He cocked his head in genuine confusion. "Like what?"
"Letting them sit with you like that. As if they're our equals. Standards need to be set."
Before he could respond to that, he was actually beaten to the punch.
"We are your equals," the dwarf said, her tone incredibly smug despite the fact that she could barely see over the rim of the table they were sitting at. "Even if you two and our green-skinned friend have yet to realize it."
William didn't miss the way the orc in question jumped a little at those words.
"You're an upjumped merchant," the high elf spat.
Her companion had still yet to say a word. She just… continued glaring. At him.
"Outside these walls, yes." The dwarf shrugged. "But within them? I'm a Marine-Knight Cadet. The same as you."
"We are not the same! I am a daughter of the-"
"No one cares. Well, no one except you. And I suppose some of the other stupider blue bloods."
The elf stood up, her chair rocketing across the floor with the force of her movements. "I'll not sit here and be called stupid by a-"
The sound of a thundercrack cut her off, making everyone but William jump as it echoed off the walls of their room.
Idly, he lowered a finger, the last words from his invoked contract still lingering on his lips. A little drastic, but he'd prefer to cut this high-school level drama off at the pass. Not least of all because most of the people present were or soon would be college aged.
Which admittedly, was its own brand of drama, but still ultimately preferable to what preceded it.
"Alright, I think that's enough of that," he said into the silence that followed his spell. "Like it or not, we're stuck with each other for the next four years. Let's try and make the most of it."
Turning his gaze to the high elf, he tried his best to appear commiserating. "First of all, I'd like to apologize for my words in the auditorium. They were ill-thought and callous. I don't know who you are. I don't know your story. I shouldn't have pretended I did in order to insult you."
It was actually rather amusing how… wrong-footed the young woman looked by that. "I, uh, that is considerate of you to say."
He noted that her word choice was specific. She didn't accept his apology. Not yet. She wanted to, if only because that was the natural flow of the conversation. Peer pressure and all that. But her training as an aristocrat prevented it.
That training was also why she'd been so wrong-footed by his easy apology.
Because apologies held weight in noble circles. They were an admittance of wrong-doing. And rarely was that wrong-doing resolved with just words. No, by admitting wrong, he'd basically just tacitly offered her some kind of favour.
Which was fine. Not ideal, but fine. The first step toward reconciliation required someone actually take said step after all.
Was it right? Had his words actually been wrong?
Probably not, he thought.
But who cared? He was a grown ass man, not an insecure teenager.
He lowered his hand, giving everyone an easy practiced smile. "Ok, with that out of the way, how about we all introduce ourselves like we should have when we first sat down," he said, doing his best to take control of the room. "Our standing friend first, because I can't keep referring to you as 'blondie' in my mind."
The young woman actually flushed a bit at that, even as she delicately righted her chair, glaring all around as if daring someone to comment. Something the dwarf looked about to do before he idly kicked her shin under the table. She in turn gave him an incredulous look, before pouting and remaining silent.
"Well, I suppose that the basics of civility can be observed," she muttered. "As I was saying before I was interrupted, I am Olzenya of House Sumond. A… pleasure to meet you all."
William smiled. "Good, it's a pleasure to meet you Olzenya."
The woman eyed him for a moment before nodding stiffly in acknowledgement, straightening the lapels of her vaguely Napoleonic era jacket as she sat back in her chair.
At which point the Dwarf spoke up, her gaze very much on him as she ostensibly addressed the entire room. "Well I'm Bonnlyn Mecant. Craftswoman and trader by nature, soldier by obligation."
"Obligation?" The dark elf all but hissed, the first words she'd spoken since they'd met.
"Aye," the Dwarf responded without even glancing the other woman's way. "The family have wanted an 'in' into the noble market for a while now and me being born with magical potential was just the ticket they needed."
"So you don't want to be here?" The orc asked quietly, as if she couldn't quite believe her words.
"I didn't say that." This time Bonnlyn actually took her gaze off him, her tone commiserating as she glanced at her fellow 'peasant'. "This is a great opportunity to tap new markets. Me being here is the smart move and I intend to make the most out of it I can. I'm just saying that the art of poking other people full of holes isn't exactly my true calling."
Then her eyes flitted back to him. "Though if a certain someone wanted to poke my holes, I wouldn't be opposed."
William regarded her dryly. "Well, it's nice to meet you Bonnlyn, though I hope you're a better blacksmith than you are a seductress because that was awful."
That actually made her laugh, even as the rest of the room regarded the redhead with varied levels of disdain. Even the orc seemed taken aback by the abruptly saucy comment.
"Oh, you're fun," she chuckled. "Maybe these next four years won't quite be so bad after all."
Well, that confirmed in his mind that her comment hadn't been some hail-mary shot at getting into his pants. Or at least, it hadn't just been that. Just as he was trying to get everyone else's measure, it seemed she was too.
In her own way.
Turning his attention from Bonnlyn, he saw that for the first time since they'd walked in, the dark elf wasn't glaring at him.
Sure, she was glaring at the dwarf now, but he'd take what he could get.
After a second or two though, the dark skinned woman seemed to realize it was her turn to talk. Idly wiping a stray white hair from her face, her silver pupils regarded the entire room before she spoke.
"Marline. Of House Greygrass," she muttered, fingering the sleeves of her own darker variant of Olzenya's outfit.
Though in doing so, it actually took William a few seconds to realize that was all she intended to say.
"Nice to meet you too Marline," he said, reining in that moment or so of hesitation while making sure to regard her with a smile.