Kvothe, still about sixteen after walking into the wrong room, is prowling through the library with his lute in its case on his back. He's humming to himself as he picks up books almost at random to flop through, occasionally something that particularly catches his eye will find its way onto a handy table to look into later.

Kvothe is still taking care of Bast's injuries, and providing a barrier between him and anyone else that Bast wouldn't want to see, but he still has to step out on occasion for food and things like that. He's quiet and keeping to himself, but he can still be caught in the hallway, if someone is looking.

Kvothe is in his room with the door tightly shut, awake as if he has been for a long time, staring ahead at a wall. The look in his eyes is distant, but Bast is lying on his bed bloodied and beaten and any sound or movement would draw his attention immediately. Part of him is thinking how to convince Bast to let someone with more healing ability ( Read more... )

Kvothe hasn't been very relaxed lately, what with the mysterious figures in the corners of his vision and the sounds he can't explain, but he's trying to keep on as normally as he can. That of course, means that he can often be found in the library. As he moves through the stacks he abruptly starts and looks around. Seeing nobody he starts ( Read more... )

Kvothe sits by the window in his room, paging one-handed through a book. He's more relaxed than he has been, he's even humming quietly to himself as he reads. The door is not quite closed, an unspoken invitation so that any close friends who come looking will know that they will be welcome.

Post for Bast and Galadriel, post epiphanyball!

During the unexpected release of Morgoth, Kvothe's hand was brutally crushed. It's been bandaged by Galadriel and between her and Merlin the pain has been greatly diminished, but it's not healed. He's awake now, the combined effects of the incredible pain, Merlin's magic and Galadriel's herbs has worn off and he's clearheaded, but his mind is far ( Read more... )

For a while now, Kvothe has been fifteen again. The change was drastic. Even after the magic there was something easier about him, there was still light in his eye and the lines of his face were barely visible, making him look as young as he is. As he enters his room, though, his eyes fall upon the lute that still leans against the side of the ( Read more... )

A man with flame-red hair sits in a window of the library, staring outside thoughtfully, a book nearly forgotten in his lap. Long fingers rest atop the page, perfectly still, not so much as ruffling the pages to break the deep silence of the room. It's a waiting sort of silence, part of his mind wonders if he ought to seek Bast out or wait for ( Read more... )

On the advice of several denizens of the Mansion, Kvothe Kote found himself a room upstairs. It's on the fourth floor, but the climb doesn't bother him. It is small, and cheerless and austere with no personal belongings to warm it, but that's fine with him. His room at the Waystone was little different. He's left it now, though, wandering ( Read more... )