VII. Mage vs Mage [Sunday 9th]

16:40 [Jer] The brunch-hour rush at the Great Hall is just now showing to settle as the noisy din begins to wind down and pockets of empty space between lingering groups begins to grow. Jeremy is found still seated at one of the Tritus tables, his plate cleaned of everything save disregarded utensils and remnant syrup (the likes of which are steadily gluing together). His roommates have either left him at some point or simply took their meal at a different time. Regardless of which way, he's isolated now - and looks no worse for it. Nursing a hot mug of cider (the non-alcoholic kind, more or less an abomination upon the entire West Country) his lowered gaze is staring far beyond the present table before him. Steam dissipates in its lengthy waft upwards from his cup, and the seer issues a cool blink while his thoughts rove out amongst the miniatute cosmos that is Hex Institute. All in all, he's of his usual Sunday fare. Hair is somewhat mussed from bed; he's clad in a storm-blue pullover sweater, its long sleeves pushed only shy of his elbows; plaid pajama pants are worn outside his dorm; thinning slippers provide the barest of soles against the cold tiling underfoot; and his House scarf provides some appreciative warmth where his V-neck collar lacks.

16:17:53 [Dietrich`] “Always with the yelling with you, isn’t it?” Came the ever-enduring response from somewhere ahead, the stout shape of Dietrich appearing from behind one of the shelves with a stack of books in his arms. “Figured you would be wanting to get an early start. Got everything you need?” Moving past her to set his stack down on his desk, he took a glance at the supplies Trix had deigned to clutter his space up with. Candles and a big old goblet. “Whenever you are ready.” He would say, and turned to move towards the Archives.

16:23:27 Trix indeed was ready. Having everything but the seasoning which Dietrich had said he could gather. Her eyes alit with her readiness, she nodded emphatically before moving around his desk. “All ready, Sir and thank you so much for helping with me with this. Anyway I can repay you, I will.” She paused, then gathered the items in hand. “Best place to do this I would say is in the archive room, or if you have another room with enough floor space for me to set everything out. You have the map still, correct?”

16:33:56 [Dietrich`] “Nyet, the map mysteriously disappeared beneath my nose in last 24 hours.” Dietrich replied dryly as he slid the key into the lock and took the time to release the guardian hex. Just as before the room illuminated with a soft sourceless glow. “Wait here.” He said as he left her standing in the middle of the floor, heading up the stairs to the second to retrieve the ancient old map from its resting place. And whilst she was standing there, she might notice that a fair bit of space had been cleared around her, free now from the haphazardly scattered boxes of documentation that had cluttered the area yesterday. A table stood close by, also cleared of its chaos to reveal the pale yellow wood that had probably not seen light short of 20 years ago—and three bundles of herb, as per order. Sandalwood, Sage and Thyme. Before long, Dietrich had returned with the map in hand. “Here, I think.” He finally replied to her, handing over the map. “Less eyes, and I know this location is as safe as you are going to get.” Of her gratitude he said nothing, merely tended to business in the stolidly efficient manner that was so typically his.

16:40:47 [Trix] For a moment, she gasped to his words her azure hues immediately working toward his own as she studied him. Only to realize he was joking as he motioned to get the map. A sigh of relief was offered through pursed lips while her gaze than wandered around the room. It was indeed set up accordingly for her use and to this she would be ever grateful to the man. He had done much beyond his duties to help her with this and she truly wasn’t worth the effort. Deep down, she didn’t believe she was. Motioning toward Dietrich, she raised a hand toward his cheek, offering the male a look that bespoke of thank you as her hand held in place. “Really, Mr. Vostok.. Dietrich. You are one of few I trust. One of a very few I consider close to me. You’ve helped me in ways I wish I could replay you somehow. I really do.” Excited she lowered her hand from his cheek, then motioned toward the floor where the expanse had been cleared for her. “Okay, the map we need to play in the middle.” She spoke as she began to place the four candles, one North, South, East and West.. Before lighting them each with a few simple words that gave her flame. A cast that was easily done and one she knew well. “The goblet needs to be fill with water.. As she handed it toward him. Perhaps in more private quarters he had a sink or something available. “Then, we’re ready to get things going…”

16:56:11 Dietrich` caught somewhat by surprise at Trix’s touch reaching towards his cheek, he blinked at her for a moment and then gently caught her hand and lowered it. “Do not concern yourself with these things.” He said, turning away and tending to the preparations she instructed him in. Thing is, this wasn’t really anything special. With Dietrich, once he put his mind towards doing something, for whatever the reason, he did it to the best of his abilities. To Dietrich, half-assing simply was not an option. The map was place carefully in the center where indicated, and then Dietrich left Trix alone in the Archive room momentarily as he went to go and fetch the requisite water. Before long, he would be back.

17:04:55 Trix eyed the male as he returned. She wasn’t unabashed at how he’d moved her hand. She was simply showing the male she trusted him. Him among just one other that she could share things within. Her relationship with the Librarian was full on crush with the man, but at the same time, over the months it had evened out to a mutual respect. “Place the water here..” She pointed letting it lay between her legs. She motioned to sit, crossing her legs in even keel. “right here..” As she pointed before her. “This is where we’ll read the map. So - we need to burn the seasons -Thyme, Sandelwood and Sage together.. While the candles are light. Then the water, should in all intent and purpose show us on the map where the room it after I ask and speak during a meditation. I’ve used this method on finding other things in the Castle. Things, people and it’s worked so far when I’ve been out in the forest. This will be the first time I’m using it to find the actual location, with an ancient map. “ Trix wasn’t aware she was delving into ancient magic. Magic that could have pull and a pray upon her soul. She had done some research but she wasn’t aware of the outcome itself. Just what it may wake due process in order to find her goal.

17:13:23 [Emri] As the students clear out and his friends start to leave the grand Hall, Emri pivots on the bench that seats 3, first throwing his legs around. An intent to leave, too, is interrupted by the lonesome sight of Jer, and the fifth-year is unable to resist walking over. Like the Seer, he too seems to be in bit of a morning rough, but his clothes are far more appropriate than the pajamas he's spotted earlier on. "So," he begins in a likely foreshadow of the upcoming conversation, "Why not just get it over with? Or does that not count?" Details are spared for the sake of wandering eyes and listening ears, but there's an understand between the two of them that doesn't necessarily need to be explained. Emri slides into the seat across from the Seer, leaning forward to bury his chin into the bundle of his folded arms, eyes steadily focusing over the boy's face. He didn't bother hiding the inherent curiosity that gleamed behind the dark brown of his eyes nor the obviousness that there are more questions t

17:21:51 Mila was seated in the Hall as one would expect, leaning her breakfast and feeding honey drizzled waffles into her mouth. She was likely placed beside Lara and a few of the usual faces that the social thing migrated towards. The Arcadian table this day, for the platters found draped down the length of each table were not all the same. This, was the table with the waffles and Mila oft' let her stomach lead the way. Sunday left her in a pair of form-fitting dark jeans, so fitted to her figure, they were nearly a second skin. Clothing her torso was a black sweater, a gray-scale image painted on the front and branding an underground, Ether-touched Indie band - Save the Last. Sleek, sable locks hung freely as always, and there was a becoming flush as one of her friends recited the story of how Emri had asked her to the Yule ball. Even Lara had not quite decided on a date yet, though a few brave boys had asked. It was any wonder she was not attending with Braxton Kennedy again, but apparently the Masquerade had not ended well between them, rumour deciding that the girl had left with another and nearly been expelled from the vaguely disguised Juvenile Prison that was Hex. Lara, never wished to speak of it. Mila hummed one of StL's song to herself, occasionally breaking out in the words; Kristinaaa I know you can see through me. Kristinnaaa you just choose to never know. Awkwardly enough, Jesline and Soph' were talking about none other than the infamous playboy, and the only one who dared to give the Shifter jocks a run for their money. Connelly. Mila's cheeks flamed at the memory of their candy-cane forced kiss, at least what she could remember of it. Head ducked, she busied herself with her food. Notably – the girls who were sitting to her left had finished with their food and departed from their fiends, leaving the seats a few open, blank placements in an otherwise filled-to-the-brim Hall.

17:23:34 Sunshine meandered barefoot outside in the courtyard grass stretching her arms over her head. She yawned and looked across the campus to the rising sun. Her face distorted into a frown and she sat down to put her shoes and socks back on. "This is so dumb." she muttered as she walked back into the school. Breakfast is probably be over soon. She had been struggling to find an appetite here. If she wasn't watching the other students carefully--curiously terrified of not whom but what she might be sitting next to--she was homesick. She readjusted her bag over her shoulder, resting her hand over the pocket with her cards in them. She was able to bring the same deck her grandmother had given her--apparently they were as good as having textbooks ahead of time. Once she reached the grand hall she saw her... Classmates--she shook her head-- leaving and scanned the tables. She needed toast or something. Otherwise her stomach would hurt something terrible during class.

17:37:42 Jer , for all intents and purposes, isn't where his physical body sits. That said, the question of where he could be, when he could be, and what he's seeing while there is left to hearty debate (if one should happen to care, that is). But with a single dropped syllable heralding the start of a conversation, true focus returns to his eyes and his sights are tilted upwards to the originator. Emri... Coining a ready smile for the fellow, the seer sets his mug on the table and withdraws both warm-palmed hands from it. "S'pose I could," answers the future instigator, quite unhelpfully too. "Problem bein, I felt ya were su'prised, so at least yer weren't expectin." He wavers on the consideration, then leans forward in his seat, effectively pressing his chest to the table's hard edge. "S'a bit odd, doin it jus 'cause I sawr me doin it. Right Inception shit, that. There mus be a reason," he affirms, sounding as though he means to convince the both of them, "in the moment." Softly nudging to sit back upright (or as upright as his marginal slouch grants) he lowers his eyes to his cider and touches to drum fingertips against the cup's ceramic. There's an apology that sits on the end of his tongue; he's come to realize that his forewarning may have made a paranoid of the fire mage. But instead of loosening the words, he merely draws a soft smirk and indulges a sip of the spiced juice. It may be of slight worth to note that at this point, in lifting the mug to his lips, his line of sight rises too and happens to glint off a Divination classmate. The only reason, only reason he can actually recognize her is because she's recently taken a seat which, previously, had been empty to his right the entire semester thus far. He doesn't flag her down now though, even with that shallow familiarity. There's a person far more pertinent right in front of him, after all.

17:47:39 [Emri] The Inception reference draws a quiet, muffled laugh from him, but his attention never quite falters through Jer's explanation, and despite whatever he has going on with his words, he seems to be fully understood. Around them students began to leave, and the occasional few even entered to tend to a late breakfast, but in all, Emri doesn't particularly care; those he does care for have been accounted for long before he had wandered over to where he currently was. Plus, seeing into the future was too fucking interesting to not warrant the majority of his attention, especially given Jer's likeliness to actually answer. (Which, upon realization, was surprising.) "What else do you see?" he asks. Despite the depth of the question, any filter that had been applied in their prior conversation seems gone.

17:47:50 Mila was seated in the Hall as one would expect, leaning her breakfast and feeding honey drizzled waffles into her mouth. She was likely placed beside Lara and a few of the usual faces that the social thing migrated towards. The Arcadian table this day, for the platters found draped down the length of each table were not all the same. This, was the table with the waffles and Mila oft' let her stomach lead the way. Sunday left her in a pair of form-fitting dark jeans, so fitted to her figure, they were nearly a second skin. Clothing her torso was a black sweater, a gray-scale image painted on the front and branding an underground, Ether-touched Indie band - Save the Last. Sleek, sable locks hung freely as always, and there was a becoming flush as one of her friends recited the story of how Emri had asked her to the Yule ball. Even Lara had not quite decided on a date yet, though a few brave boys had asked. It was any wonder she was not attending with Braxton Kennedy again, but apparently the Masquerade had not ended well between them, rumour deciding that the girl had left with another and nearly been expelled from the vaguely disguised Juvenile Prison that was Hex. Lara, never wished to speak of it. Mila hummed one of StL's song to herself, occasionally breaking out in the words; Kristinaaa I know you can see through me. Kristinnaaa you just choose to never know. Awkwardly enough, Jesline and Soph' were talking about none other than the infamous playboy, and the only one who dared to give the Shifter jocks a run for their money. Connelly. Mila's cheeks flamed at the memory of their candy-cane forced kiss, at least what she could remember of it. Head ducked, she busied herself with her food. Notably – the girls who were sitting to her left had finished with their food and departed from their fiends, leaving the seats a few open, blank placements in an otherwise filled-to-the-brim Hall.

17:52:30 [Trix] Dietrich had left and all the preparations had been set. Everything was in line for their attempt on the morrow. This wasn’t something that could be rushed. As it was, she was done with her preparations and motioned from the library, leaving Dietrich to do what work needed to be done. Tomorrow her dreams could possibly come true with finding the ideal gift for Jer, but for now, she was hungry. The only problem being she’d not stepped inside the hall since she’d been lashed that fateful night. Her careful steps manoeuvred though the hallway, boots light against the stone floor while braids swayed with delicate delight. Her intent was to go inside, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. She stopped - paused just outside the doors as she peered in. The night of her Lashes was repeated within her gaze- the food fight having lead to her pain when she’d done nothing at all. No, the woman couldn’t enter. Not for now, so she chose to lean back against the back wall.

18:06:04 Sunshine picked up a slice of wheat toast with a defeated sigh, "Aghh... I'm so not hungryyy." She whined. Now where was that strawberry jam? Her eyes wandered across the room as best they could without making her stand out. Ah, the end of the table closer to the dais--A dais. What day and age was this? Honestly.--she shuffled over, closer to a couple of talking guys. Unlike Jer she wouldn't recognize her classmates because she spent all her time avoiding eye contact. However as she reached for the jam her vision went black and was quickly barraged with flashes of images. They were unorganized and brief. Even if she hadn't seen these two fight, being aware that that one played with fire made her take a step back. "Ohdeargod." she blurted before dropping her toast and pulling a 180. She sort of tripped over her own feet but it certainly didn't keep her from speed walking in the opposite direction.

18:16:59 [Jer] Attention duly returned and mug replaced upon the tabletop, Jeremy considers the infinite breadth of the answer to a seemingly straight-forward question. Very simply he says, "Lot a things," and could very well have left his reply at only three words long. However, knowing the sort of curiosity that sits before him now, he opts to indulge a little further. His smirk isn't nearly clandestine enough. "I seen that kid in Castin, that one who's auways askin ther stupid questions, ask to the Yule that girl who sits by 'im. Poor scab gets rejected b'fore 'e's even shut 'is mouth." Reminded perhaps of another vision, his mood lowers a pinch in the volume, becoming more sedate in handling. "Seen you," he then admits with a weak renewal of the smile as he sets his fingertips around the edge of his cup. "Scorin Mila ter'the dance... Last night, m'I right?" With his distant deja vu, he'd pinned that to have been the corresponding event. Luckily he's 99.5% sure of it, else he'd be ruining the grand surprise for the hopeful teen. He lingers on that point there, letting the possibility of far more serious, far darker visions fade into the background. Only with another seer does he want to discuss such gruesome premonitions. But speaking of other seers, the one closest at hand makes a very sudden pivot and high-tail away from them, unusually skittish for a person. "Sorry?" he asks after her, not in apology but for a rhetorical clarification of what'd set her off. Of course, if she's as quick about this escape as she seems intent, then she'll be long off and brushing his word straight from her shoulder.

18:19:17 Chase` was good as new. He had spent all of yesterday with his face broken, bruised and swollen. He had been swarmed by girls in the Crux common room wondering what had happened and awww'ing over his black and blue features. They had waited on him hand and foot and he acted like the wounded soldier. He had lived the good life for most of yesterday. And now he was back to looking pretty all over again and he was ready to flirt! He left the infirmary in his casual clothes, a pair of camouflage cargo pants, boots, a blue hoodie under his usual black coat. His hands were shoved in the center pocket of his hoodie. His lips were pursed as he whistled A Country Boy Can Survive by Hank Williams Jr. It was his favorite song. Shut it. He made his way through the halls, winking at some of the girls who had been fawning over him yesterday when he was injured. He even pinched one! He was out of control. He entered the Hall and let his chestnut eyes roam the room before he spotted Mila at the Arcadian table. The girl really got around. Of course, he had no clue just how much. He couldn't remember much of yesterday morning, and he had absolutely no idea that Mila thought that she had been kissing him. He moved over to her, looking around as he did so. As he sat across from her, he blew a kiss to a pair of girls who were staring at him and whispering. No doubt repeating the rumors about him and August. He looked to Mila as he pulled three of the dishes around him toward him. Two of them he pulled close with his hands, the third dragged across the polished wood of the table by his casting. He began using both his mind to scoop breakfast foods onto his plate by controlling the large spoons in them as he looked to Mila, "Hey dollface."

18:31:39 Mila couldn't help but to notice the commotion caused by the new girl – a Seer, she understood. The cast of her dusky smoke eyes then drifted toward Emri and Jer who were fairly nearby to the girl, and she smiled faintly, though never bothering to offer a wave of call any attention to herself. When living amongst each other so long, it was not necessary to call a friend away every time one saw them, you'd likely drive yourself mad. Chase moved over to the girls and acted his ever flirtatious self. “Chasy!” She squealed, always referring to him as the latter half of a game she'd played in Australia as a girl. A came created by small, innocent children wherein the elementary champions would play at tag, only kissing (chaste, of course) their targets to mark them 'it'. Fitting, for a boy channelling Don Juan with every act. “Hurry up and finish,” She begged in that accented, sweet pitch, “We've a whole day to practise.” For what? Durusball, of course. More interesting to the girl than Yule and Christmas was the fact that Spring and the grandest game in the world were right around the corner. Just talking of it had brought a glow to her effervescent, exotic countenance and one couldn't help but to admit that Mila's pleasure was infectious. Flippant as ever, her half-eaten waffles were forgotten.

18:39:34 [Emri] Another laugh, seemingly a common reoccurance, escapes when Jer mentions the kid in Casting. But even then he remains buried down into the crook of his right elbow, silently breathing against his exposed arm, occasionally blinking but keeping his gaze on the Seer nonetheless. Its his revealing of the knowledge of him asking Mila that finally excites a response, but its not much: his brows lift in an impressed sort of manner. "Can you control who you see?" another question, but he continues on in an attempt to both satisfy his own growing curiosity as well as force Jer into an answer more specific than he figured would normally be given. "Or is it circumstantial? You see me one day, then my fates spilled to you during your little vision." The example is crude and painfully revealing of Emri's lack of knowledge in terms of whatever process Seers underwent, but it was a risk of embarassment he seemed to have little care about. Despite his unwavering focus, the fire mage's attention is too pulled to Sunshine alongside Jer, but she is far forgotten by the time the Seer's spoken his attempt of an apology. Rather, the boy at his cross seems to have garnered even more of Emri's focus than before; and with a haste that had been particularly lacking he manages to reach across the table with the length of his coiled arm, pulling himself simultaneously up but more noticely forward before popping the briefly occupied Jeremy a solid one against his exposed jaw. The result isn't likely to be fatal, nor particularly influential over the boy's well-being, but it'll be a connected punch nonetheless, and those never seemed fun. A smile with enigma that rivals the Seer's blossoms to life before he sits back into the seat, lacking the posture necessary to deflect a retaliation. There wouldn't be one.

18:45:30 [Trix] So much was going through her mind. A pivotal momentous and accusative motion that reared its ugly head. It had been days since she’d stepped into the hall, and even now, she was held at bay. Afraid. terrified. The lashes had put the fear into her. Fingers rolled down near her thighs, nails dashing into the material of her leggings as she struggled to break through that threshold. Her heart beat, thudding in near climatic event as her blood rushed through her vein. Everything was keeping her out and nothing was drawing her in - nothing told her it was okay. It was safe. That she’d be okay to motion indoors through the threshold. One step through those doors and she could be punished again for nothing she had done. Innocent as she was, yet she had paid a price that tore at her innards in a way most others would understand. Trying to remain good. Trying to remain upbeat when Professors and friends had betrayed her. Had left her to feel the wrath when nothing she’d done at all warranted it. She had avoided everything thus far, but after days of starving herself there came a time where she needed to fit within. Needed to get some sustenance in her. And thus the woman pushed past the fear and pain, pushed past the brutal totality of it all as she entered through the threshold. Once within, she paused to breath, taking her time to adjust to the scene around her and not feel as if eyes were upon her. Embarrassed as she had been, it was as if Trix’s entire world had collapsed that very day of punishment. She paused onced within the hall, breathing in slowly as blond golden strands curved around her face. Braids hung down over her chest, tips licking where the curves of her breast would be. Eyes of blue peered forward, surveying the area but she could not look upon Crux. No - instead she looked for elsewhere. And in elsewhere she saw Emri, popping Jeremy one in the jaw…

18:51:22 Chase` couldn't help but laugh a little as Mila squealed her little nickname for him. He'd asked about it, naturally, and had only lamented that they didn't play the game as teens. Of course, the kisses probably wouldn't be chaste. And, of course, there was always the chance of seeing two girls kiss. No need to wonder why that image jumped into his mind. When she mentioned that they had an entire day to practice, he didn't need to wonder at what she was talking about. What else could she be talking about? He grinned, "Slow your roll, darlin'. I need to catch up on what happened yesterday while I was being waited on hand and foot by hot girls. And one ugly girl who I sent on the errands that would take the longest. But you need to finish those waffles before we set foot out of this Hall." The little things were always slipping the cheery girl's mind and, as her best friend, it was his duty to remind her to finish things like her waffles. Or her homework. The last one she generally ignored until the last minute. He settled in and took a large bite of his scrambled eggs, chewed and swallowed before he looked back up at her, "So what did happen yesterday? All I know is that I got into a fight with Connolly and he kinda broke my face. Anything good happen to you?" He had no idea that she had been necking with Connolly yet again, nor that he had been fighting the werewolf for the right to get into her panties. He then began living up to his mealtime nickname of Hoover and began eating so fast one had to wonder whether he was just swallowing it all whole. Of course, he was always listening. Multitasking, FTW!

19:10:45 [Lachlan] Today was like any other day, filled with the monotony of class—with the period free, Lachlan decided to make his way down to the Great Hall. As he entered the hall, the strapping young healer ran his fingers through his dirty blond hair and scanned the Hall. He hoped that he could possibly find one of his friends. Instead of being met with the sight of his friends congregated at a table enjoying their brunch, the Manxman spotted that Emri had given Jeremy a good “sacking” to the jaw. No sooner than the punch was placed the healer took off towards Emri. Using his position to his advantage, Lachlan attempted to deliver a punch to the back of the skull. “Feckin’ wank’ah” he called out with his assault. Though, Lachlan perhaps was not the most intimidating guy in the world…he certainly was not without guts or heart—a real scrapper when it came down to it. No sort of eighteen year old fifth year—what a dumbshit—was about to slug his lover (meant only in the way that West Country and Manxmen mean it, of course). He expected retaliation from Emri, so no sooner than he landed from his jumping motion --considering that Emri is taller than, Lachlan…safe to say that the shorter Manxman had to get a little bit of a vertical lift—he quickly prepared himself for a fight.

19:20:58 Sunshine leaned against the wall outside of what would be her first class of the day blushing to her ears from embarassment. After her little spaz attack in the grand hall she'd bumped into every person on her trek here, which was a trial in and of itself. Compared to this school, her old public school, formerly believed to be maze-like, was easier to navigate with a paper bag over her head and her hands tied behind her back. It really had taken her a full week to recognize the hallways that led to her classes and god forbid she ever got lost. She'd probably die curled up in a corner, alone and no one would find--She suddenly stomped her foot and smacked her forehead, "That's enough!" she quietly chastised her brain, "This is already downright depressing. No need for more bizarre hypotheticals!" Although, as she'd learned recently, some hypothetical things do come true. Glancing down the hall she found herself alone and sighed, releasing some of the tension in her shoulders. She couldn't keep avoiding Sunshine the kids in her classes. Her time here wouldn't get any easier on her own. She reached into the front pocket of her bag, where she kept her cards--her grandmother's energy had long seeped into the deck before it had ever been handed to her, and in this place was a constant source of loving energy. Her fingers wrapped around nothing. She stopped breathing. "No. Nononono." She frantically searched the other compartments of her school bag, "Where--" she stopped cold and smacked her forehead again. She'd tripped. The grand hall. "Daaammmn-it."

19:25:33 [Jer] "Yes'an no," Jer answers the pyro. "F'it's random," he offhandledly poses, "then it's random." A terser boiling down of the soothsayer condition may never have been spoken before. "But," he then says, the word like a wind up for a match-winning goal kick, "given I'm tryin a see someone or somethin specific-like, then yes, I 'ave control." Usually it's the former that spawns the efforts of the latter but, on occasion, they are fueled by wholly independent intentions. And though his answer is very lean, all the juicy fat like details and further explanation skimmed from the meat of it, he seems to believe it suffices Emri's purposes. Therefore he is so easily distracted away from the conversation at hand by his classmate's interruption; and therefore he's shortly treated to the knowledge that his forthcoming suckerpunch is not, in fact, the first to transpire between them. To the sudden movement in his peripherals, no reaction is going to come fast enough. Knuckles to cheek, the seer's face is sent aside (and down with his subsequent hunch) with the familiar crack of solid contact. The back of his hand has already spirited to the abused side of his mouth, pressed there a moment and - just to be sure - checking for any crimson. And in spite of the overwhelming urge of his electrified nerves to flip the entire table and engage in an all-out brawl, the only thing he actually does is pick up his gaze and look to the teacher's table. Good he thinks as the sparse remaining faculty members appear not to have seen a thing. Only thus can he recollect himself to sit proper, the eyes that lie upon Emri now seething like the rabid dog, muzzled before the thirst could be sated. But he won't have to deliver the retaliation, will he? What enormous discipline the boy, the one branded a nerdy space cadet, could show after a punch that should have rocked him far harder (if not sent him into tears). His gaze doesn't falter to the fast-descending Manxman. He bides instead for that forever-long second before his roommate's connection to shove back from the bench, a bare foot upon it in less than a blink before he's standing on the other side. Simultaneously, he casts a curse in his wake, increasingly robbing the fire mage of his vision until he should see nothing but black in the coming second next. The audience for this is a poor choice but, beyond a couple teachers, he hasn't realized how poor it could actually be.

19:35:38 Trix entered further within as punches were thrown. There was no right or reason that stemmed her actions other than to stop the madness that was going on. Didn’t they know lashes could be give for such a thing? Trix haven’t experienced the very thing just days before wouldn’t stop as she motioned forward, coming toward the scene as the skirmish began and then took fight. Lachlan moved in, Emri was there along with Jeremy as the petite Fae tried to get herself to give pause to the certain events. “STOP!’” she called, in an dire need to be heard, her eyes fastidiously going from one person to the neck, not sure just what was going on or who started it. All she knew was Jeremy was involved and that was enough to get her to say something. Forgotten was the part of her staying out of trouble - if caught she’d not be going to the ball or anything. She was putting everything on the line. Risked getting lashes herself by involving herself into the situation. “What the hell! Please.. Just stop this fighting!” she called, her voice sharp as she tired to break through the scene. Someone should hear her. Someone should listen to her and she wasn’t against throwing a punch if need be. Despite it being nerdy Trix who never got into trouble at any time. This was a woman who saw punches and saw the man she cared about being involved. Nothing like this was suppose to happen after the Yule Ball. He had promised her that much.

19:45:02 Sunshine hustled back to the doors of the great hall and peeked into the room she had just bolted out of. She covered her burning face with her hands and grumbled to herself. She wasn't under the illusion that her tripping had been seen by everyone--that wasn't why she was nervous. It was just that those guys had seen her and her cards were probably right there. In fact, she leaned her head back into the doorway. AH! There! Under the table--by her previously dropped toast coincedentially. She cried a small, "YES!" in relief. Short lived relief. Not only had a scuffle apparently broken out--like she'd tried to avoid--but right over her cards. "Damn." she cursed again. Unlike Trix who'd announced her presence (in fact it could be said, using Trix's outburst as a distraction) Maxine sidled along the wall closer to the table, making herself small and hoping to grab her cards from the opposite side of the... Disagreement.

19:45:32 [Emri] And like that, a good ol' scuffle's broken out between their parties. The blow to the back of his head is both entirely unexpected and momentarily jarring, sending him forward to press against the corner of the table while similarly checking his wound like Jer had done moments ago. The world began to blur as he dipped into the cove of beneath the table, and by the time he managed to work his way out to the other side (though not with the intent to particularly chase Jer), it's gone entirely black. Trix's words, no matter how loud or obvious they are, fall on deaf ears. There's a panic across his face as his eyes dart back and forth in an attempt to work off the hex, but to no avail; only time would rid him of the ailment, but in the given situation, fear turns this rather obvious information to the unknown. At his side, his hand's dipped into the hug of his pocket, and its in this position he waits - for a second blow from Lachlan, the retaliation from Jer, or for the hex to fall off. Waiting for the moment to explode, and ultimately, unfortunately, send him back into the depths a good number of them had just only recovered from but days ago.

20:31:27 [Lachlan] Here he thought that the day was going to be drab and boring, instead it turned out to be something worthy of an esoteric Jerry Springer stage. With Trix’s announcement, Lachlan growled some. What a stupid twit…they could have made off with it clean if not for her. Lachlan glanced over to the faculty table and then to his staggered opponent, “Feckin’ cunt!” he called out to him before he met Jeremy’s side and tugged on his wrist, “P’haps we should get dhe feck out of ‘’ere, aye?!” Lachlan casted one last glance to Emri—despite taking recognition of his disorientation, he flicked the fire elemental the bird anyway. <I> “We’ll catch dhe feck lat’ah…” he said. The Manxman could not help be a bit excited about the thought of going blow-for-blow with elemental when the time was right, but out in the open in the Hall, perhaps not the brightest idea any of them had. Once again, Lachlan tugged on Jeremy’s wrist and trekked off towards the exit of the Hall. He could only hope that no faculty would impede their exit or worse, they were forced to continue the scuffle with Emri—though in the advent that the elemental would continue the fight…one best believe that Lachlan was not going to walk away.

20:34:04 [Jake] Where was the resident playboy, Jake Connolly? Some would think still in bed on the frosty winter morning, squeezing in one more sleep day before classes the following morning. Those people would be wrong. Perhaps the Were had woke up especially early, to catch up on assignments in the library and finally get his school work on track. Again those people were definitely wrong. Flirtatious dalliances, drowning in due papers or a relaxing Sunday sleeping in were not on the menu for the boy. Punishment for his scuffle with the Earth Mage however certainly was. Woken much earlier than his peers, Jake spent a sleep deprived morning in the greenhouses under the disapproving bird like stare of the Herbology teacher, Professor Sage. The monotonous workload was met with loud and boisterous yawns, any attempted breaks were quickly whipped away by the raspy voice of the elderly professor. “Suck it up laddie, quit yer belly achin’ these floors won’t sweep themselves ya know.”Sweeping stray spills of soil from the floor, watering the plants, some of which ether enchanted simply to make his job that much more painstaking. A magical venus flytrap eager for it’s next meal hardly made for a great conversation partner. When all seemed done and breakfast had finally arrived, he piped up. “Floors are clean, plants watered and Maverick has been fed. Can I go now?“ A tiring start to the day did little to rid him of that slighted arrogance in his tone. “Maverick? Th’ Decipio flora?” A smug smirk upon his lips as he chimed. “We bonded.“ With a not amused sigh, the professor keenly inspected his work, with the hardness in her tone withering for the barest of moments she said. “Be off wit’ ya. I expect yer back ‘ere next Sunday too.” The last of her words did not meet the boy’s ears as he was off out of the greenhouses and made the chilling journey back to the institute. Hunger had overwhelmed the need to sleep, the litter of familiar faces lost on him,Jake found a seat at the Tritus table sitting amongst his peers. Reaching for a triangular cut slice of buttered toast, it had barely reached his mouth when a nudge from a girl beside him had asked. “Jake, isn’t that your friend fighting over there?” Taking a bite and chewing noisily, he stood up from his bench, staring over at the opposite table. It seemed like the exchange was about to be broken up, yet the slice of toast never met his lips again, left on the plate with the grog of tiredness forgotten in favour of helping a friend if he needed it. Jakey-boy just never learned his lesson.<e>

20:40:38 [Jer] Right around the time he started to think that the fire mage didn't actually have much fire in him (honestly, what self-respecting young lad ducks under a table during a fight?), Jeremy hears a feminine voice he knows very well. "Trix?" falls the name from his lips. But with his fleeting gaze finding her, he immediately waves her off with a hissed warning. "Move off!" Undoubtedly too curt because of the present situation, his kindly suggestion to not get caught up in this mess suddenly sounds like a flippant means to toss her by the wayside. Really, he'd meant well. Yet with adrenaline surging and his mind's eye opened, it's difficult for him to completely switch gears like that. He does, however, seem to heed her plea. "Oi," he shoots at his friend (who'd just shot off his mouth, too). "Oi, luv!" The hand that was put up to stunt Lachlan is secondarily reeled back in to cut a gesture at Jer's neck, silently calling a quit to the assault - inevitably unnecessary. Ignoring what Emri's table diving may have scattered about (slippers and tarot cards included), the Somerset seer resists Lachlan's pull just enough to very genely lift the blinding curse and return the teen's vision as quickly as he'd stolen it. (As it were, such an act will require a silent pass of his hand verrousy near to the other's face, effectively right over the blinded eyes in question.) Then, stumbling in how far his wrist's been dragged in the opposite direction, collects himself along the way as he speeds up to his roommate's sprint. Ever the mage, it's to (some strange region of) his credit that his slippers are flying out from under the table to catch up too, zipping into the young man's hand. With ill-spirit, he's practically laughing in their sudden escape.

s20:44:19 [Sydney] Gods, was it Sunday morning? This meant the crack of dawn wake up for the girl, with a routine of prominent work outs that would fit her slim form with natural athleticisms. Mind, body and soul were worked into a frenzy despite the chill of a lacklustre day to come. She would move hre form, work and ever diligently get it to the point of perfectionism before time was called and she was allowed to exit within. Cheeks flushed upon her sun kissed flesh, eyes of sea-green peering within, the athletic form of Sydney was soon seen entering within the Dining hall. Hair pulled free of it’s binds hung fresh around her face, adding an alluring motion to her mannerisms, while lips that were full and red burst into a smile as she reached the Tritus table. Whatever goings on were unseen. She paid little attention to the male testosterone, but one caught her attention solely. All things considering the way she’d acted previously thanks to the given candy canes had left her quite embarrassed. Though may be Jake had forgotten about the animalistic natures that had surged in her. She could only hope. Not one to hold on to such fixes, she meandered her way through, wearing yoga pants that stuck to her slender form, revealing the subtle swell of her hips and long, lengthy legs that were toned and visibly shaped as she made her way to sit. She was hungry - in a number of ways, the exercise being far more than taking just a knock out of her, leaving her to be somewhat aching in a wake of food as she nestled it upon her plate. Eyes cast a weary glance toward Jake though - wondering what his reaction to her would be, before she piles her attention back onto her plate with a needlessly silly amount of pancakes.

20:50:27 [Trix] The situation alone leaves Trix standing there… realizing she’d entered her feared room. And for what purpose? There was to no avail for her to recompense within the area. She was deftly brushed off with so much little of the day, without so much of a word as she slowly spun around and made to exit herself. It had been a mistake coming into the place. Let alone standing up for one she cared about. There was a time and a place for everything and Trix had certainly met that non committal time. The fact she was hurt would likely go beyond being seen. Or to anyone else who was around. No, she’d leave that to her own manner, to feel the pain somewhere else in her own solitude. She was brushed away as if not important. Not cared about and certainly not given the time of day to be urged upon to stick around. Some times friends were more important than others, and Trix most certainly felt that way today. Her own self sacrificing action had been to try and stop a situation from becoming worse. She’d given no thought to pushing herself in there regardless of the consequences and yet, it was ignored on a number of levels. Even by one she cared about. No Trix would not take this lightly, nor would she forget. There were obvious times when she was important and times where she was merely in the way. She’d just discovered as much now.. And yet had roles been reversed. It would have been quite the opposite. Then again, she always gave more than she got in return.

20:57:03 Sunshine had never in her life made a squeaking noise, but as described, her tarot deck's pouch came loose and the cards spilled out. And she whined like a puppy that'd been shut in a room. She rushed to the bench and, probably much like Emri had done earlier, dived for her cards. She tumbled under the table landing none too gracefully and scooped her cards together haphazardly. "Aww man." She whined as she climbed out from under the table, dropping some of her cards again--heedless of whomever might be looking that direction after the dispute. She picked up what she dropped and carefully began counting the cards, treating them like they were 100 years old. "Seventy-six, seventy-seven... Where? AGH!" She cried, "Where is the fool?!" It would be one thing to lose a suit card but a major arcana? Really? Her luck. Simply. Sucked. She started looking under the table. A little shakey and disoriented. In her frenzy she swung around a little too far and decked herself one the bench. She swore and grabbed her forehead.

20:59:15 [Emri] The voices without faces crowd his ears, but his finger remains ready at the flint, itching his skin against the rough texture - itching with a readiness that's almost unnatural. From a punch to setting them all on fire; in retrospect it would be come off as a bit much, but the fight had undoubtedly and mutually escalated from what Emri had once considered a rather funny punch. But even as the hex is removed, and his sight is peeled to reveal that very Seer running off with his friend in tow. The two against him... It was an accepted challenge, but for another day and in a far more appropriate place. Luckily the teachers seemed to have dismissed the foolery for nothing more than playful shenanigans amongst friends. Emri's posture finally falters when the two englishsomethingorothers are gone, but even then its just to ensure that the punch to the back of his head was nothing more. A table away Jake stands up and all the fire mage can offer is an audible laugh, his arm having fallen back down to his side, "Not here." He offers the implication before sitting back at the very spot Jer once had been. A few moments to pass and allow the excitement in the room to die down before he's off to first fraternize with his old friend, before possibly making rounds to any other wandering, familiar eyes - Mila, in particular. He doesn't want the poor girl to worry after all.

21:09:45 [Jake] Brown eyes full of warmth had taken in the scene and despite the lengthy distance, through squinted eyes Jake saw the familiar movement of his friend’s arm. Taking the brief opportunity to fill his plate, French toast, bacon, sausage, eggs, pancakes and whatever else he could stack upon the ceramic dish. He wasn’t necessarily hungry but burned black breakfast was not a particular favourite of the wolf. If not for the stirring of present faculty at the head of the hall, Emri would have most likely brought the place down around them, Jake knew he was capable of such, making angered trips through the forest a fire hazard in themselves. Assistance would not be needed, the boys of his own house deciding to depart. A nodded agreement to his friend, the sign that all was well…for now. Sitting down with attentions turned to the mash of various food items upon his plate, with a single stainless steel fork, he tucked in. Unlike most lads, shovelling food into their mouths like it was their last meal,Jake’s own attacks were precise and surgical, a game being made of what he would eat first and what would be the best way to tackle the grown mass before him. Noiseless chews and a curious stare now wandered the room, a now fixed up Chase chatting to a seemingly back to normal Mila, the effects of the day before having worn off. Likewise another Jake had met in the hormone aggravated state had joined him at the breakfast table. His eyes meeting her own upon the weary gaze. “Well it looks like someone’s appetite for food rather than boys has returned. I would take it easy, the way you’re attacking those pancakes might make a guy jealous.“ He teased, sliding along the bench to face Sydney, plate accompanying him.<e>

21:17:19 [Sydney] The ever intolerable Jake was sitting with her as she well knew. She was hoping she’d go amiss as she had the day of the candy canes. It was quite obvious to Syd who the man wanted the moment he’d taken Mila outside. Her eyes now scolded, while underneath the table her left foot swung forward, toe to shin to offer a swift kick. She wasn’t amused by his antics - it was obvious he remembered the day before and how she’d been afflicted by the ardor of Candy canes. It was not her doing to say the least, and in some way she felt Jake knew far more than he let on. “Give over. My apetitie has always been the same. You’ve just never realized it, you were so busy looking elsewhere.” She quipped in response while eating upon a piece of pancake that supplicated itself into her mouth. Chewed slowly, it was moments later as she licked her tongue, her gaze going toward the male one more. “I’m still not convinced you weren’t behind that whole situation. Some thing tells me that if anyone was putting horny power on a candy cane, it would be you..” She quaffed, though inwardly she felt used. Like many others that day who had lost their will power in a number of ways. Was it Jake’s doing? While she could appreciate a good game, she wasn’t so sure she appreciated it’s outcome. At least, not her own. “Pancakes at least taste good. Far more than I could say for you..” The words given, she felt inwardly tired with herself. They were always arguing on some level, but at other times had such great conversations. Even fun times together. He just irritated her.. And she couldn’t understand why.

21:26:16 Sunshine emerged from under the table unsuccessful and sniffled. Her head hurt now and her fool card was missing. Where the hell...? She folded her arms on the table and dropped her head onto them in defeat, with an "Ow." to follow. Yeah, that will leave a knot. With a pout she stood up with her tarot pouch and picked up her abandoned school bag--dropped in all the action of course. "This is the worst day of my life." she mumbled as she stalked out of the hall.... And she was probably late for her first class now. She smacked her forehead with her palm, "OWWW-uh. What is wrong with me?!" she yelled at the empty hallway. With no earthly response she pulled her bag up onto her shoulder and shuffled to class.

21:29:22 Trix exited the hall as fast as she’d entered. There was nothing in that place for her. Nothing other than food and she could find food by other means. She’d placed herself in the line of fire by butting into a fight. She could have been pulled into the situation and given more lashes, along with not attending the ball, despite other things that could have punished her. But it all went unnoticed. It was a sacrifice she’d made for others and yet it seemed not to care to others. It was just one more darkness that pitted within the stomach of Trix. That anger deep inside that curdled. Everyone took her for granted. Everyone took her in some way to be the peaceful one. To be the one who helped. Who always gave a smile to someone else. Did anyone care about her own feelings? How it felt to be ignored? To be pushed aside? Trix would never have done such a thing to another person, for she fully understood how it felt to have that happen. She was on the inside and she knew it all. And that was her gift, the fae’s delight was she could never let someone feel left out or useless. She could never make them feel as if it was all for nothing, and tonight, even the one male she trusted had done just that. Pushed her aside as if she was little. At least Deitrich had offered to help her, but to what end? She was sacrificing herself to make someone else happy yet again. Putting herself out there to make give one person she cared about all he wanted. Trix was in many ways, a fool. She was unworthy of a lot of things. She was worthy of so much more. And it had all hit home with her tonight. Kisses meant nothing if the people behind them weren’t meaningful. If she was so easily pushed aside from someone she’d cared and given so much to already, it only made her a fool. Boys would be boys and Trix understood that. Only it hurt to accept it. And without much of a muse, she began to make her way from the dining hall, through the hallway and outside. Leaving the place entirely to itself. At least she could go somewhere where she’d not get in trouble. Where she could be alone and simply not be hurt for the Earth would not hurt her. She was a fool to believe in anything else.

21:36:13 Erinn hadn't been sleeping well at all since the lashings, her back was still horribly sliced up and would still break open when she wasn't careful how she moved. It was painful but she was still doing her best not to show how much it hurt, her hair stayed off her back and was pulled up into a messy sort of bun today, a few dark strands fell in her light blue eyes. She spotted Mila at a table and a small smile touched her lips a sshe headed over towards the girl, she had on a pair of jeans and another thin black shirt, long sleeved today. Her feet had converse on them and she used make up to hide the dark circles around her eyes, eyeliner lined them and a charcoal/grey shadows were used for her makeup making her eyes sort of smokey looking. She made to sit down with Mila, she noticed Chase too and offered him a small smile, "Hey.." she said to them both as she started to pile some food on her plate. She was a bit late in coming down to breakfast but it was better late than never, right? She picked up her cup, she'd poured coffee in it with a little creamer and sugar and took a long sip, hoping that the caffine would help keep her up and alert. She put her usual smirk in place as she looked to the both of them, "What's up?" she directed their way a little lazily before another long sip was taken.

21:41:27 Mila was already skimming her hands down the legs of her jeans, dusky crystalline eyes scoping with concentration for, where her dainty fingers did fall, with the sport hindering material ebbed away into the form of leggings instead. These were form fitting, coating the shapely form of her slim legs like a second skin and, unknowingly to the wearer, accentuating the pert curve of her rear – as if she needed the assistance. “Mmm,” she was murmuring, her accented voice husky with thought. “Alright but-.” Just as the easily distracted Seer seemed ready to give, and allow the importance of eating to overtake, her glance which had drifted with sidelong attention caught sight of the commotion. “What the?!” Paying no mind to her breakfast once again, the limber lass was darting from her perch, dainty hands creating useless fists at her sides. Biased, and ignoring that Emri had begun the fight to her eyes, the girl hurried to the scene which Jer and Lachlan were leaving in a hurry. “What the hell, Em?!” Jer was a boy her altered mind barely recalled passing on a message to her the day before – the details blurred by the haze of tampered candy. She'd seen him again that night, seemingly joking with Emri with a taunted punch of his fist. Mila thought they were friends. Suddenly Lach' had punched the Elemental. Frustrated now, and all to ignoring of the fact that she'd no right to intervene, the infecious girl paced back and forth with a flourish of dramatic hand motions, “So much for friends! Who is he? And why didn't J-” Why didn't Jake help? Her words cut off all too abruptly, awkwardly recalling the snippets of memory she had the day before. Cheeks colouring becomingly, the girl pushed her back with one hand. Apparently, she'd kissed Chase too. A guilty glance was cast in her best friend's direction and then it drifted to the Tritus table where she spied Jake and Sydney. Mila yelped and ducked, remembering only slightly the challenging competition between herself and the other girl, a Were's reaction to the fight for a mate. Awkward. So altered in her state by the candy, the friendly Seer had nearly scratched the Shifter's eyes out. Also deducing (with Emri's help) that the candy-canes had been a prank, and referred to a 'him', she'd put the blame on Jake's shoulders rather than Braxton's unaware that it was a communal affair between a number of the Senior's. A hurt glare was shot to the back of Jake, feeling all the more violated by their kisses, particularly with him forcing the reaction from her with Ether drugging and casually shrugging off what he had done and continuing to act the playboy in front of her very eyes. Today. With Sydney. This was the reason she'd never been so naïve to pursue him when in her right mind. A boy like that couldn't steal her heart, but Emri though. Mila stepped in close, tone lowering with concern. “Are you okay?” One dainty hand lifted to press to his cheek, if only just.

21:47:18 Jer dares to turn a glance over his shoulder as they zip down the hall. He sees no pursuit - they'd gotten away scot-free! Of course, he does realize that his friend's unscripted involvement has escalated the matter a whole 'nother level. What had once been playful musings on a future may now be an established series of intentional confrontations. He'd be lying if he said the idea harrows him, though. That discontent that's been building over the past year and a half is finally being alleviated at last, like the first melt of spring. His blood is pumping, just like in the old days. What can - and does - invariably stop that blood cold is seeing Trix emerge from the Great Hall next. The dumb grin is instantly wiped from his face as his pace drags, terribly so. In that glimpse, though she hardly shows it, he can practically feel the stab of her mood through him, the distance between unable to dull the blade tip in the slightest. As he's yanked around a corner, thereby falling out of view of the girl, he catches himself in the motion and automatically takes his frustration out on Lachlan. "Fuckin Manx," he growls at the shorter of the two as he puts both (bare) feet down and halts further running. Whipping his wrist from the other's grasp, his other hand lifts and smacks the boy's head with the carried pair of slippers. "Nw'why'd you go an do that, an say that, fer?" Though grossly agitated by how everything had fallen together, with a harsh rub of his eye he relents. "Naw. Sorry. You did right by 'ow yer know," he apologizes. En route to slinging his arm around his roommate's shoulder, he smooths out where he'd struck the lad. "C'mon," he leads them both. "We've to tell the boy