"Oh, don't give me that," Claude complains. "You gave him a pin and everything, Felix. You've sworn to a recognized position in Fodlan! Besides, doesn't being Faerghan nobility mean that you inherently have sworn fealty to the royal family? It might be directly to the king, but it extends to the whole bloodline, I thought."
Then he has to turn to, unexpectedly, defend himself against Ashe. "Now where did that come from?" he demands. "Dedue didn't put you up to that one, did he?" He gives Dedue a mildly suspicious squint. "If not, that's a pretty random suggestion. But does that mean an entire plant, or would stealing the fruit or vegetable of a plant count?"
With Grant's, unfortunately, there's no uncertainty. He's forced to take a drink, muttering about it not being his fault that Fodlan is so insular.
Dedue's statement, however, fortunately passes him right by. Of all the many things Claude has poked into in his life, magic has never been one of them. There's always been a "those who can, do battle; those who can't use magic" attitude in Almyra, where mages are tolerated, even accepted, but at the same time are viewed as (and, to be fair, often are) those too weak, sickly, or otherwise incapable of being warriors. The fact that they can fulfill useful, even vital roles on a battlefield earns them honor in their own way, but to be a robust Almyran warrior is still considered the pinnacle of achievement, and anything less is second place at best. Claude had respect for mages even in Almyra, which has only grown since his time in Fodlan and seeing a culture where mages are considered an equally valuable asset to any fighter, but...well, in Almyra, he could hardly afford to invite more speculation as to being weaker than other Almyrans. So he'd eschewed magic early, and has never revisited the subject.
Felix's challenge to Dedue, naturally, bypasses Claude completely. That gives Claude time to consider his own turn and what he'll offer. But whether it's a symptom of the alcohol or perhaps a product of where his thoughts have gone, most of the challenges he can think of are...kind of depressing. He doesn't want to bring the mood down, but also he's drawing blanks otherwise. (Of course, to be fair, he's done quite a lot of things, so his pool of available questions may be the smallest of anyone.)
In the end, he gives up and goes for one of the less depressing options. "Never have I ever had a childhood friend." He points at Dimitri. "And before anyone says anything, teenagers aren't children. That's different."
no subject
Then he has to turn to, unexpectedly, defend himself against Ashe. "Now where did that come from?" he demands. "Dedue didn't put you up to that one, did he?" He gives Dedue a mildly suspicious squint. "If not, that's a pretty random suggestion. But does that mean an entire plant, or would stealing the fruit or vegetable of a plant count?"
With Grant's, unfortunately, there's no uncertainty. He's forced to take a drink, muttering about it not being his fault that Fodlan is so insular.
Dedue's statement, however, fortunately passes him right by. Of all the many things Claude has poked into in his life, magic has never been one of them. There's always been a "those who can, do battle; those who can't use magic" attitude in Almyra, where mages are tolerated, even accepted, but at the same time are viewed as (and, to be fair, often are) those too weak, sickly, or otherwise incapable of being warriors. The fact that they can fulfill useful, even vital roles on a battlefield earns them honor in their own way, but to be a robust Almyran warrior is still considered the pinnacle of achievement, and anything less is second place at best. Claude had respect for mages even in Almyra, which has only grown since his time in Fodlan and seeing a culture where mages are considered an equally valuable asset to any fighter, but...well, in Almyra, he could hardly afford to invite more speculation as to being weaker than other Almyrans. So he'd eschewed magic early, and has never revisited the subject.
Felix's challenge to Dedue, naturally, bypasses Claude completely. That gives Claude time to consider his own turn and what he'll offer. But whether it's a symptom of the alcohol or perhaps a product of where his thoughts have gone, most of the challenges he can think of are...kind of depressing. He doesn't want to bring the mood down, but also he's drawing blanks otherwise. (Of course, to be fair, he's done quite a lot of things, so his pool of available questions may be the smallest of anyone.)
In the end, he gives up and goes for one of the less depressing options. "Never have I ever had a childhood friend." He points at Dimitri. "And before anyone says anything, teenagers aren't children. That's different."