IV. Kiss me, I'm Irish [Sat/Sun Midnight]

[Mila] The majority of Hecate was tucked between their sheets, eyes laden with the bliss of slumber in wait for Sunday morning and Saint Patrick's day for which, the Institute did not officially have anything planned, decorated or intended to express their holiday spirit. Bah humbug. The Seniors couldn't possibly have that. With no parade to observe and no bars to visit they did only what creative, bored youths would do and made their own fun. Those that frequented Methidius' Cavern, (for there were plenty of nerds, well-behaved or loner sorts that had never stepped within its ramshackle walls), had planned a meeting. A gathering, one would say. Far past lights-out and in the midnight hour, students had been leaving their Houses in ones and twos. They were stealthy and well practised. Clearly, these were the true 'delinquents' and they'd had plenty of practise since their freshmen year, to refine the 'art' of escapism. Mila was among these clever students. The girls she roomed with, particularly Trix Ellery were not the sort to dabble in the affairs of the affectionately named, 'Meth Lab'. In fact, it was just as like no one had ever told the bookish blonde about the place. She wasn't one to break the rules. As for the sable-headed Seer, she was not the most troublesome sort but well liked, and easy-going the sporty lass had acquired a great number of friends among the popular crowd and had obviously found herself among those who were informed of the St Patrick's day shenanigans. News which, she'd shared with Emmelia during the class in which both girls had failed to turn water to Cider, much to the chagrin of Professor McMahon. She wasn't entirely sure if the girl would come. Either way, having slipped on a pair of form-fitting leggings in coal, a pair of snow-boots and the same old oversized, navy blue Titan's jersey that professed her obsession with the Scot' team and an ushanka hat, she left her dormitory. All, without waking any of the girls she shared with. Down the unlit corridor she went, until finding herself in the common room. She was careful as she went for the exit and, soon enough (after a few close calls with the guards patrolling the Halls) had managed to leave the castle entirely. Step One, complete. Then she was ducking, and bolting across fields and for the shroud of the tree-line. Once amongst the forest she found herself a little frightened. It was an eerie place, after all. Rather than daring to cast an orb of light and perhaps draw the attention of a guard on grounds duty, she proceeded in the darkness with only the moon to guide her path. “Eep.” She stumbled on a root. “Mnf.” Her elbow hit a branch. A rustle caught her attention and the girl halted in her path, wondering at the possibility of being caught. The sound came to have been made from a wolf, one that made its presence known with a viscous snarl, just as another wolf came upon her. A half choked gasp of fear left her, heart thrumming beneath her breast – only for those agape lips to turn into a true pout. Mila stomped her foot. All, because the wolves that had surrounded her like predators in wait of a meal had shifted into the forms of Jed and Maya. Scumbag Shifters! “You guys!” She whined, adrenaline still coursing through her. “That wasn't funny.” The three laughed it off and continued on their way together, sounds heard as they got closer and closer – a distant giggle, an 'Oof' of two students bumping into each other in the dark. On entering the cavern she found that many were already there, drinks in hand and festivities begun. Everyone wore a little bit of green. As for Mila, she wore a cute fair badge that read 'Kissy me, I'm Irish.' Flogging Molly was played in the background and, as always, Mila sequestered the old, blue, Victorian chaise and sprawled across it.

[Emmelia] Emmelia struggled into the green shirt, the only one she owned, depicting that of a blue, red and gold shield from a video game she had a soft spot for. It was an older shirt, but one she hadn’t been able to depart with once she was shipped off. Complete with a pair of worn out skinny jeans, white sneakers and a black zip up sweater to hide the bright color of her shirt once out of the room, Emmelia paused, debating, not for the first time, why she was going to this party. She secretly feared the high school movie moment, where everyone would go silent with disgust as she entered. Since Emma had never been to the Meth Lab before, she had to make up a place in her mind for the horror of the scene to play out, all her fellow peers, staring at her as though she’d lost her wits. And perhaps she had, she thought, as she stood up from her bed, the soft snores surrounding her a familiar comfort. The girl she had become acquainted with in class, Mila, had invited her. Perhaps, for that simple fact alone, Emma found her legs moving, carrying her lightly down the stairs and out of the dormitory, her hands tossing the hood of her sweater up and over her long, dark curls. The taste of solitude had become a bitter constant on her tongue; she was willing to face the embarrassment for one night outside of her repetitive life. Slipping through the hallways, Emma stuck to the shadows, her white sneakers a beacon in the light. She had always been good at remaining hidden and that had only increased since coming here where she avoided the public areas as much as she was able. Her figure was graceful, light, her weight barely allowed to transfer to her sneakered foot before being lifted again. It didn’t take long for her to find herself outside the castle walls and into the embrace of the chilly, spring air. Emmelia inhaled, finally able to breathe easy without being quiet. Her gaze had roamed around the grounds, catching movement at the edge of the forest as another teen fell into the darkness of the trees. She didn’t hesitate to follow, her stride quick and sure footed across the uneven ground, for she honestly had no idea where she was headed from this point on.

[Charlie] Celebrations were to be had and Charlie would be damned if he didn’t count himself among the party goers. Being a prominent member of the self proclaimed cool crowd, it was natural that he had been aware, even having a hand in, the Meth Lab preparations. Like several other invited students, he found himself slipping out of bed, the warmth embrace of his sheets abandoned in favour of the bitter cold corridors of Hex. A trained sneaker clad footfall led him easily through the institute, although despite the well rehearsed path paved with each passing year, Charlie always endangered his nightly excursions. For tonight he was not alone, meeting others outside their respective house common rooms, the small entourage stifled boisterous laughter and subtle steps growing louder with youthful recklessness. Luckily unlike most nights, they managed to avoid detection, barely dodging the watchful gazes of those that stalked the halls. Traipsing across the school grounds, censorship forgotten and deep tones laughing and joking freely in the cool night, “Give us a light Charlie.“ Michael asked, waving his cigarette in the air. Reaching into his jean pocket, he unveiled one of the many gas lighters in his possession, a quick caress and the flame came to life, slinking from the lighter with a will of its own, and whip like it lashed the cigarette. “Ouch, easy.” Mike exclaimed, jerking his hand away from the living flame. Charlie grinned sinisterly, an amused snicker escaping him as they trudged through the forestry. The firestarter eyed several other silhouettes whom pushed their way through the darkness, rushing for the welcoming chamber of the illuminated hangout. His arrival had been coincidentally timed with none other than his latest source of amusement, Emmelia. “Look what the cat dragged in, didn’t expect to see you here.“ He commented smugly, helping himself to a beer bottle being whizzed through the air. Uncorking and swigging heartily, he sank into an armchair, turning his attention to another sitting to his right. “Getting your drink on tonight Mila?“ Asking casually, returning his lips to the awaiting bottle, eyes drifting curiously to his fellow fire mage, payback still fresh in his thoughts.

Johanna :: Of course, Johanna had heard rumours of a party at The Meth Lab. She hadn’t received an invitation but more or less, the girl does what she wants. It wouldn’t be the first time that she’s gate-crashed much to everyone else’s chagrin. Johanna had a temper on her, everyone knew this. The rumours had started the moment she had arrived in this school. Well, it wasn’t so much rumours, it was the damn truth. The story of her case had spread through the school like wildfire. What she had done to be placed at the Institution. Johanna had only been too happy to play up to her reputation. More than a few hours had been spent in detention or isolation. Supposedly for the other student’s protection. She had been on the cusp of being expelled a few times but had narrowly escaped that fate. Possibly something to do with the very large private donation of funds to the… school by her father. Not that it was public knowledge. Johanna had only resigned herself to the fact that she would be here until she graduated and no matter how many times she acted out, she would not escape this castle. She had settled down then and actually worked hard in class. Jeans, a fitted tank top and red converse were thrown on with a hoodie. Hair is pinned up with a carelessness. It wouldn’t be long until she’s out of the school and arriving at the edge of the forest. Eyes fall on the figure before her. A lost looking figure. “Emmy?” She hissed out in a whisper. Emmelia was one of the very few people that she actually liked in this school. It seems that Charlie had joined the party though. An eyebrow arches and she turns to the boy. “Think you’re a big man, huh, Charlie boy?” Johanna scoffs at him. She had never liked him and she wasn’t going to start now.::

Auron waited in the dark outside the Tritus boy's rooms for his friend. Though friend was a loose word. More a friendly bully. One that had said that Auron was going with him to "The Meth Lab' Or was going to catch a beating. Auron was nothing if not a pacifist. So there, in the dark silence of the hallway, he waited, nervously clinging to the wall in the shadows as guards wandered the halls neaby. "Come on..." He winced to himself, debating going back to his bed when his firned finally joined him in the darkness. He scowled at his frenemy and they set off down the hallways to find an unlatched window that they skirted out and onto the ledge. His friend morphed into a monkey, and he adjusted his linen shirt so his wings could protrude. Gossamer shined in the moonlight as they flitted and lit his light frame down to the damp grass. He hurried then along behind the friend and into the woods. "Where are we going?" He asked in hushed tones, his two toned eyes flitting around the dark trees, seeing death and danger in every shadow. He was answered when his friend / bully turned and snatched up the much smaller boy by the front of his shirt, telling him to shut his ‘clam’. “Aye! Alright, alright! I dunno why ye bring me. Yah don’t even like meh.” He said, brushing the large hands of the boy off his white linen shirt, and then straightening it out as he was put back on his feet and once again fell into close step with the other boy. Soon, the light from the said hangout destination shown out and his friend hucked with excitement, turning around to finally inform him that he was to be his ‘DD’, or otherwise make sure his drunk ass got back into his bunk without being caught and punished, which would result in this friend’s expulsion, due to his multiple infractions. Thustly he had enlisted Auron, who was normally settled in his own world, keeping his head down and away from everyone else. Ever since arriving at the institute three years prior, Auron had always tried to keep to himself. People knew him, or at least, knew OF him. “ Pretty Boy” by rumor name. Part of a politically charged, non-aether unfriendly (Hating really) family. His elder brothers were sports stars and politicians. He was, well, what one would call a great dissapointment to his father, and thustly, was sent away. Auron had maintained his “Loner” status until he had been roped by the larger boy, who had wanted him to be his kind of sidekick, for this kind of occasion, as well as taking blame, if it came to that. So there Auron was, being told his duty to somehow drag the larger boy back to the dorms after the party. “…And for God’s sake Auron, look like you WANT to be here. Jeesh…” The larger boy said before heading into the lit gathering area. Auron followed, hoping to be mistaken as a shadow. But when a boy is bloodlined to the eldest of fae, that kind of beauty isn’t the kind you can hide. Features so delicate and intracut, they might have well been carved by master masons out of marble. He had dressed in normal clothes, as he had been ordered to. A soft white linen shirt that draped on his smaller frame, the slits in the back for his wings. Black slacks, simple shoes. He was not one for flash and high fashion, though he could have been a model in half a minute if he wanted a job like that. He kept his eyes down, only venturing small glances up to avoid bumping into anything. Anyone who did catch his eyes would see their differing colors so vivid, they would almost glow in dim light, one a neon blue, so light it would make the sky seem monotone. The other, a near red-brown color, deep and vicious seeming. He remained near his bringer who would scoff at any ill words about his +1, explaining the genius of brining Auron to be his lackey.

[Mila] On Mila's Chaise she sat, slim, shapely legs tucked Indian style as she glanced toward the entrance of the cavern, where a few more Seniors were entering. They were given a friendly wave – meant, most especially for Emmelia who didn't often come to the Meth Lab. It wasn't about being 'invited' but, obviously, if one was a no student, a loner or a stickler for following the rules, who was there to tell them of the secreted sanctuary? Again, with St Patrick's day, there was no invitations. If they were someone who frequented the cavern, they'd have seen notices on the Rumor File about the 'Drink Up', or otherwise had been told by friends who had heard the news in the same fashion, or been one of those to plan it. Mila wasn't one to worry over the file, or the list of Most Wanted because a lot that was scrawled on the board was rubbish, and she was certainly not a fan of anonymous trolls. The gathering had found her keen ears when she'd last seen Jake who was notably late. Chase was present, 'course, but he was busied playing a game of pool while the sable-headed lass remained at the circular placed scatter of mismatched furniture, old and new, about the small fire that was hexed never to smoke out the room. It was here, that Charlie joined her, pulling Mila from her current eyeing of a confrontation. Maya who had been having it off with Jed for years now was staring daggers and venom at the known harlot of Roxi Hart. There was no status between them, and yet they were together. Sort of. She was 'one of the guys' or perhaps a slight groupie, when it came to the Sixth years known as the 'Shifter Jocks'. As for the blonde Fae? The girl had been hanging off of him lately, and such hadn't gone unnoticed. Not by Maya. “Hm?” Mila asked, blinking, her expression bedfuddled. “Oh!” Her visage lit, almost as though a cartoon light-bulb flashed over her head. “Course! It's Saint Pats! It's sacrilegious not to drink!” Until December had rolled around, Mila had never been a drinker – never more than one glass, maybe two, slowly sipped and carefully taken. Jake and the others had obviously corrupted her. She didn't know the slight hush of the room, that came when an Underclassman was brought within their midst. Auron.

[Emmelia] Once she had reached the edge of the clearing, her slender figure falling into the even darker embrace of the trees, Emmelia could hear the loud snaps of dead branches and twigs beneath multiple shoes, accompanied with squeals of laughter that were both masculine and feminine. Instinct made her draw her hood down farther over her face, but it didn’t seem to give her the cover she sought. Someone whispered to her from the shadows, footsteps advancing from behind her. Emma turned toward the culprit of the voice that sounded familiar; Johanna, one of the many in the school that she associated with. Or rather, that would associate with her. “Hey.” She said simply with a small smile, never slowing her stride as the girl caught up with her. Now with a fellow companion against the world, she followed the seniors dubbed the most popular to a cave in which sounds of merriment were loud in contrast to the secrecy and silence they had just transgressed to get there. Stepping within the light, fingers in the pockets of her jacket for warmth, she glanced around for the first time at the Meth Lab. She had heard of the place, of course, but had never had the courage to venture into it. Among the several things within the cavern that would have captured her attention, the video game systems were the thing both her brows raised upward at. If she had been more comfortable among this crowd, she may have advanced toward the T.V. and studied the collection that was hoarded in here over the years. But she didn’t dare, not when she was already noting the looks she was receiving from a select few. No doubt, Johanna was gaining no few of those stares herself. A familiar voice roamed over her senses, causing goose bumps to form across her flesh her stomach to turn over. The reaction to this pompous voice irritated her more than the man himself did and that was probably revealed in the olive hues that would glance over at him. Instead of following along with Johanna’s harsh remark, Emma smirked at him, all impertinence in his direction. “Well, hello, Charlie.” She greeted him with false modesty, pale eyes twinkling mischievously. The greeting drew a few eyes, but she paid their audience little mind for the moment. Emma didn’t mention their encounter yesterday, for nothing she said, even in good humor, would sound right for the ears listening. His similar colored eyes leveled at her gave her the impression that his thoughts weren’t too far from her own. She made a point, then, to ignore him, giving his companion a small wave in acknowledgement of her own. “So, I guess all your worries were for a reason, since you didn’t manage the whole water to cider bull in class.” She told her, giving a grin that obviously said she wasn’t alone as she lowered the hood from her disheveled curls and ran a quick hand threw them to smooth out the mess.

[Charlie] The mage would have no worries when he emerged from the tree line and entering the senior’s haven. His appearance was welcomed warmly, familiar faces greeted him, their names unknown but a curt self absorbed upnod would be offered. Charlie had not expected to see Emmelia amidst the frequenters of the Meth Lab, yet her chosen company had been a greater surprise. “I don’t need to think it, I already know. Still playing the cold bitch I see.“ There was no love shared between Johanna and Charlie, that much was evident in the nonchalant insult he gifted her. Superiority leading his steps, he turned from them and joined Mila, breaking idle chatter whilst he waited upon his usual crowd. As if his ears were burning, sauntering into the fold had been none other than his best friend, Jake Connolly. Beside him had been Brax, the two equally late to the party they arranged. Despite Charlie’s own appearance being one of note, it was the two Hex celebrities that commanded the attentions of the Meth Lab inhabitants. Whilst Brax left to join Jed, Connolly had appeared behind the fire starter, leaning over and slapping each of his cheeks. “Comfortable in my seat there Charles?” Laughing the Were turned his attentions to Mila, much like he had been doing much to the notice of his friends. Before Charlie could retort, turning to look up at his aggressor, it seemed something of urgency had alerted him. “What’s up with you, lick piss off a nettle?“ Following his gaze, it was the arrival of Walsh and Auron that had carved such a serious expression upon his features. “Fuck no.” Jake exclaimed, marching over to the arriving pair. Charlie followed suit, knowing there would be trouble. “What the fuck is this Walsh? Why is Tinkerbell with you?” The celebrations would quieten as the Were’s masculine tone cut through the chattering. “You’re not welcome here Pansy, so fuck off.” Charlie stood beside him, making no move to stop Jake. If Auron made no attempt of moving or Walsh stepped up to protect his date, Charlie would speak up. “Deaf as well as stupid, you can either walk out or we can throw you out.“ For rule breakers it was quite ironic how they guarded the code of their hangout with such persistence.


(Mar 16) 23:29:25 Auron had been brought in by this "Walsh" A shifter Jock of somewhat tubby proprotions, but a beast on the field and on the mat. He held his own push and pull with the backing of the other shifter jocks. Auron had just been unfortunate enough to have been a loner and caught his eye. Take the blame for that prank, do this run for him, trade this for him, do this piece of homework for him. Auron, had more or less better lack of a good title, became the 'Bitch' to the shifter jocks, Walsh inparticular. Not willing to fight, Auron had let it happen really. But he knew, somewhere down subconsciously, he had let it happen more out of some delusion that the shifter-jocks were his friends, or at least Walsh was. Which was a truly unrealistic thing to think, but Auron was into dreaming and had let himself believe that over the fact they were outright using him. He drew in his bottom lip as he felt eyes boring into his smaller frame, and he wished to be invisible. Which would minorly happen, his fairy glamour kicking in to slightly blurr his visage to the rest of the room. That was, until he was expressly addressed by what seemed to be the ‘King’ of this here gathering. Then he became quite stark and vivid in his nervousness, not able to quite turn down the glamour to appropriate levels. He stood slightly beside and behind the large shifter Jock as they were addressed. He felt the sting of name calling, and averted his eyes, waiting for the enevidable. Welsh started to re-explain his genius in bringing Auron to be his hobble back to his bunk after the festivities, but, in a stroke of what he felt was stupidly brave, he reached out and tugged softly on Walsh’s arm. He immediately felt the harsh gaze of the shifter, and he spoke very quietly, his voice soft and thickly accented, something Walsh had grown used to, “It’s alright mate, he sais I canney stay, I’l… I’ll wait for ye outside in the woods. Just… Wander about and call fer me when yer ready. I’ll wait…” He said, and Walsh, who had bullied the boy into being his lackey, looked somewhat greatful, nodding to the idea. But seeing this might be a form of affection or softness towards the lower classmen, he shoved Auron towards the door. The frail, smaller young man stumbled and caught himself on the edge of the pool table, feeling the sting of it on his hip. He sucked in a breath, but didn’t make any further noise. “That’s right. Shoulda never brought you in here anyways. Wait outside.” Walsh said, adding cruel bravado to his words. Auron, bit his lower lip and nodded to Walsh, pushing his two tone gaze down as he left the glow of the party, and entered the darkness of the woods outside their hang out. He stood out in the moonlight a bit, then moved a few yards away to sit by a large tree, rubbing his pinging hip bone. He felt the chill of the night settle on his fair skin that looked to be almost pearlescent in the moon’s glow. He put his arms around his knees as he settled in to wait. He would wait, still trying to convince himself that he wasn’t being used, that those were his friends, and this was the mately thing to do. He would not be afraid, not really. So what if something got him out here in the woods. It would only serve to get him out of the hellhole of an institute faster. It would solve a lot of things actually. His father would get a son he could talk about again. His mother would get to stop sending worry letters… It would be convenient for a lot of people if he did end up gone. He pondered these thoughts as he sat out in the night.

[Johanna] ::: A smirk graces Johanna’s lips as she snickers at Charlie’s remark. “Only for you, darling because I know you love it so.” She retorts. She watches Emmelia and Charlie’s interaction with interest, wondering just what was going on between the pair. Of course, she was attracting stares her way but Johanna didn’t seem to care. It’s the arrival of the underclassmen that had caused quite a stir. A brow arches as Jake marches over to them. A frown creases over her features as the clear aggression is heard in his voice. “Oi, boys. Why don’t you go and find somebody of your own size to bully around?” She calls out to them when the rest follow suit. Should Johanna attract their attention, she’d only bless Charlie with the most radiant of smiles. Clearly, he was the gang leader of this little group and as such, Johanna had set her sights on him. “I thought you were a big man, Charlie boy… so why are you pushing around the little ones to prove your worth?” She asks, words are laced with poison with just the hint of a challenge even as she remains perfectly pleasant on the surface.::

[Emmelia] Since her arrival had been welcomed, for the most part, Emma took it upon herself to navigate through the rowdy guys and the scantily dressed ‘whoo’ girls toward the fridge. There were many different beverages within it, to her amused surprise, nearly anything that you could ever want. Selecting a yuengling and popping the top off against the edge of the counter with a slap from the heel of her hand, she took a quick swig of the familiar brew. A deep chuckle sounded to her left and her gaze followed the sound to a group of guys in the corner of the room, shoving each other and making remarks she couldn’t hear under their breath. Their eyes were on her, like wolves eyeing an easy target. Emma raised a brow as one stumbled toward her, obviously nearly intoxicated, if not already. “Hey, Cartwright.” She couldn’t tell if the alcohol had drew him her way or curiosity. The fellow smirked crookedly at her, beer sloshing in his grip. “My buddies over there,” he pointed in their direction dramatically before piercing her with his bemused stare. They laughed heartily from their corner. “Were just wondering how you murdered her. We made bets, you see. I thought maybe you might have drowned her. But that guy there thinks you bashed her skull in with a heavy object of some kind. Hammer or something. And then, this guy,” More beer leapt from the bottle in his hand, splattering the couch and anyone in range. There was an angry exclamation, but he ignored the noise. “He thinks you slit her throat in the middle of the night like a little sneak. Would you care to tell us which one is right? I have a ten on the line, here.” He chuckled, a cruel sound from someone who cared little for the sensitive subject he was mocking. Emmelia’s green eyes blazed, her teeth grinding with the contempt that was practically oozing out of her. Without a verbal retort, for it was not worth wasting valuable oxygen on anyway, she snatched the beer out of his grip and poured as what was left of its contents over his head. With a noise outrage, he went to grab her and she jumped backward, out of reach, before disappearing into the crowd. The scene that was beginning to stir attention at the cave’s entrance seemed to catch her pursuer’s attention, as well. There was little fun in harassing the girl that was barely half his size. Either that, or the alcohol made his attention span shorter. Emma sniffed, catching the end of the commotion on the other side of the entrance, noticing all the testosterone braced for a fight and Johanna causing trouble among them. She glanced from Charlie to the young wisp they were glaring at whom was taking his leave, only gleaning from common sense that he was not of age to be among them. Not one to grab more attention than necessary, and being that this had distracted her would-be captor, Emma did not attempt to enflame the scene further with her own opinions. Instead, she sipped on her hard won drink and kept her eye out for more trouble.

[Charlie] It would seem that readied witticisms and snaky comments between Charlie and the opposite sex were a common occurrence. A white toothed grin, a flicker of amusement curling the corners of his lips was all he offered the feisty Johanna. For once his attentions had been torn away from chasing playthings or stirring trouble, instead he was attracted to the confrontation between his friend and the new arrivals. The message issued by the Werewolf, backed by the all too eager fire starter, had been understood. Rules were rules, the shifter should have known better than to bring an underclassmen to the fortress of solitude. “What were you thinking Walsh?“ Charlie asked, an irritated drone leading his vocals. It was evident in his tone that he thought very little of his fellow jock. The rhetorical question was followed by another, this one issued by the ice queen herself. “My own size? Fatass here is my size.“ Accentuating his point by slapping Walsh on the stomach, yet interests changed, he rounded on Johanna’s pursuit, finding himself standing before her. “Because I can, got a problem with that?“ There was no hostility in his vocals, it seemed like belittling others and tearing them down was just one of his many games. “Run along love, go roll around in ice water or something.“ Movements of his hands whisking the air, as if pushing the girl out of his sight. Swigging from the beer bottle, he attempted to chug the last of its contents, eyeing the disgruntled fellow mage.

[Johanna] ::: Well, telling her to “run along” was hardly going to make her do so now. A brow only quirks at his words and there’s a grin upon her face once again. Johanna only watches Charlie before she reaches out a hand to grab his wrist. It’s an attempt to snag the hand that was holding the beer bottle. “No, I don’t think I will, Charlie boy.” She smiles at him, soft lashes fluttering exaggeratedly at him. Should her attempt on capturing his wrist be successful then her words would only be accompany by the cold that creeps upon his skin. It was definitely be chilly as a frost climbs up the beer bottle and freezes the alcohol solid inside it. Of course, Johanna knows that he could put a few of his little tricks to use to solve the problem that she had caused him but anything to annoy him, right?::

[Emmelia] Slinking, once more, through the bodies clad in green and gold, Emmelia approached the, now, empty chairs that were once occupied by the lippy jocks that still stood at the entrance, marking their territory with muscle and curse words. How typical of them all. Finding a chair, which just so happened to be Charlie’s old chair, she slipped onto it sideways, legs dangling over one arm, while all those dark curls hung over the side of the other, making herself comfortable. Emma unzipped the hoodie, for it had grown warm, tugging it off and settling the black material across her stomach as she sipped her drink, bright eyes roaming to the battle being waged by Charlie and his newest spitfire. At his words, a grin curved one corner of her mouth, white teeth flashing from behind full lips. Because I can… she mouthed silently, nodding and frowning like she was grading him. Warmth filled her gut as the last of her beer entered it, releasing the bottle on a nightstand nearby. As alcohol was known to do, she felt calmer, more comfortable within the confines of a crowd she usually avoided. Absently, Emma conjured another beer from within one of the coolers, having the bottle soaked with condensation float over to her outstretched fingers. This one she simply twisted off before taking a sip, right leg, crossed over the other, swinging leisurely as she eavesdropped.

[Charlie] Charlie’s friends had distracted themselves with the hangout celebrations, however the boy in question remained, confronted by a peculiar obstacle. Olive hued gaze had brushed over Johanna with disinterest, seeking alternate sights to appease the now deflating amusement. Catching Emmelia sinking into his chair, he sought to make a move to stop her, lips puckering shortly to meet the rising bottle…or so he hoped. The cool beverage would never meet his lips, for the dainty grasp of the girl’s hand found itself capturing his bare forearm. Head tilted in bemusement, if she sought to grab his attentions, she certainly made the right move. “Oh?“ He asked, chiselled expression taking on a hint of surprise. The cold touch of her hand would meet the irregularly warm skin of the mage, skin in question undisturbed yet his bottle had not been so fortunate. Frost would find itself lacing the glass, the already partly guzzled liquid turning to ice. The change could easily be corrected, but a warm beer was never appealing. “Neat trick.“ It would be then that his emerald eyes would seem to glimmer, like marbles encasing living flame, her fingertips scalded by the impossibly hot touch of his skin. Putting the bottle to the side, he stepped up to the opposing made, leering down upon her, brawny form dwarfing her own, he uttered simply. “Don’t be a tease, is that the best you’ve got?“ A spoken challenge, a whisper of a smug smirk and a soul piercing stare. All the while he was aware of the watchful gaze of his latest plaything, her attention only serving to broaden his inflated ego.

(Mar 17) 01:34:48 [Johanna] ::: Being one of water and ice means that Johanna didn’t like heat. The rising temperature of Charlie’s form that serves to burn delicate fingers means that she lifts her hand from the boy. “Well, that wasn’t nice.” Johanna chides him with a mocking pout. Yet, the mention of her being a tease only amuses her. A smile is given to his smirk as blue eyes lock onto an emerald stare. Johanna only takes a step back, regarding him with that same amusement. She gives him a wink with the reply. “You’ll just have to wait and find out, Charlie boy.” Words are spoken loudly enough for the pairs of eyes settled on her altercation with Charlie. She doesn’t say much more before she turns on her heel and begins to walk away.::

[Emmelia] “Oh, children, children…” Emma mused, taking another long sip of her drink. “If you’d like, Charlie, I can find you a nice room to take her to. Maybe I can even fluff the pillows and leave rose pedals on the sheets. Give it a real spiffy look of romance.” But Johanna had walked away by the time she had made the immature remark and Emma’s attention turned elsewhere, sneakered foot swaying to the Flogging Molly instrumentals absently from her perch in Charlie’s old chair. Observing comfortably the many shades of green and the glimmering hint of gold, her gaze fell on a rather loud group playing a drinking game of some kind. The game was foreign to her, as were many customs in this place and it captured the majority of her attention. Emma pressed her beverage once more to her lips, but when she lifted it, still distracted while the group jeered and chortled at their gulping victims, it was empty. She set the bottle on the nearest end table, dark curls bouncing over the arm as she resettled herself.

[Charlie] The already present smirk, irritable yet charming, had flashed a row of pearly whites as Johanna released her grasp upon him. Too hot to touch, the comment and accompanying pout would be returned, a retort an attempt to always get the last word. “And what gave you the impression I was nice?“ With a huff she turned on her heels and left him, his olive hued glare following the shake of her hips unflatteringly. Frozen beer bottle would be cast aside, placed upon one of the various pieces of salvaged furniture, attentions once more caught by the girl who believed herself free from his rapidly approaching payback. “I have a room right here, no need for a bed, that armchair would do. Speaking of…“ The no doubt cocky comment got caught in his throat, looking over to one of his fellow seniors reaching for a beer, Charlie brought curled digits to his mouth and let out a high pitched whistle. The screech caught the attention of several surrounding onlookers, curiosity raised, yet the fire starter simply clapped both hands together and then raised his right in the air. The signal known amongst the boys, pass me a drink. Fresh beverage tossed into the air, over the heads of chatting students, caught and uncorked by the mage’s ready hands. “You’re in my seat, shift.“ Clenched fist and protruding thumb pointed to his left, as if by word alone Emmelia would obediently move. He stood before her, blocking the view of the drinking game she eyed with seeming interest, his expression pinched with expectation.

[Emmelia] Emma’s attention was recaptured by the athlete, his usual tone spoken in the deep voice heard easily over the music and the steady hum of dozens of conversations. Her pale emerald hues were torn from the drinking game to regard him with a mocking expression of rationality. “No, I don’t believe so. As you can plainly see…” She nodded and used her hand to express her slender figure. “I am sitting here. So, there’s no room for you two to bring your little love-fest here.” Having every intention of ignoring the persistently mocking mage, Emma’s attention moved to the T.V., for a few guys were gathered around it playing one of the many game systems. Before she could find out which game it was specifically, the sharp whistle sounded in her ear and, like several other people in the room, she found herself peering at the culprit. Was there anything the guy didn’t get when he demanded it? For a moment, she wondered what sort of family he was brought up in. Was his family a bunch of rich folk and the spoiled brat received anything and everything he wanted? As far as outward appearances were, she could assume so. His sudden demand pried her from her current reverie, blinking the bright gaze at him in disbelief at the tone he used. “Wait…” She glanced around, making a good show of twisting her body this way and that way, pretending to study the material of the chair in which she sat before she locked her gaze on the tall boy before her. “No… I’m sorry, I don’t seem to see your name written anywhere in the fabric. Do you, by chance, have some kind of proof that this chair is yours? A receipt, maybe?” Emma’s brows were raised, lips successfully remaining neutral, though she was fighting a grin herself.

[Charlie] At a mocking command a student not yet of age to count himself among them had been banished to the forestry surrounding the seniors hangout. Upon a screeching whistle, the fire mage had been handed a beer, his needs wordlessly expressed through a single call. Charlie Brooks was living the easy life, a reckless youth enjoying his favourite sport, the company of fellow delinquents and occasionally putting that the dormant intelligence to use, for studies that is, smart ass witticisms were just a bonus. Everything coming to him through little effort on his part, explained his grown interest in Emmelia upon their first meeting. He believed her to be a challenge, a new nut to crack. When she denied his command, he cocked his head in question, as if the very word no was alien to him. “You don’t see my name? Look harder.“ Pointing towards an unmarked area on the armchair fabric. If his distraction proved successful, with broad arms wrapping around the girl’s arms, with ease he lifted her from the chair, putting her over one of his brawny shoulders. Emmelia would be held aloft for only a brief moment before being tossed onto a surprisingly empty couch. With haste he wiggled his way backwards, collapsing into the chair he called his own, one leg propped over the arm, chiselled features sculpted into an expression of believed victory. “That wasn’t so hard.“ He announced, as if being removed from the chair had been her own idea all along. Bringing his bottle to his lips he drank heartily, a pompous wink gifted to the likely scowling Emma.

[Emmelia] The arrogant cock of his head finally cracked the mask of neutrality; she grinned at him, failing in the constant battle not to appear entertained by his complete immaturity. Having been a hellion the previous day, all claws and nasty remarks, it must simply be that the alcohol had lowered a few of the outer defenses tonight. Anyone whom had noticed her coming in an hour or so ago had forgotten the murderess among them, had forgotten everything but what was right in front of them, all lost in their own little worlds. It gave her comfort in her own skin, a feeling she was not accustomed to. He spoke, then, pointing at the chair for her inspection and she found herself stupidly following where pointed, wondering if he would point out a stain or something else humorous to mock her. But instead, she felt him take a hold of her by the arms. Before she was aware enough of what was happening, before she had even considered putting up a struggle, he had tossed her over the shoulder as easily as a bookbag and then, just as effortlessly, dropped her onto the rough cushions of a new perch. Emma jumped up just as he was settling himself into his chair, all cozy and smug-like, her lips parted and the luminous green of her eyes widened on him in shock. His wink, cocksure as it was, made her consider him momentarily, eyes sparkling with wicked intent. “You do realize, Charlie Brooks, that this means war. Didn’t you learn anything yesterday?” She stood before him, arms crossing over her chest, the sweater she had taken off earlier still stuffed into the corner of his seat behind him. But if she mentioned it, no doubt he’d hold it captive as he had done with the ring yesterday. It had much less value for Emma, but any sort of power over her was not worth offering. An idea came to her; a juvenile one, to be sure. Piercing her lips together to avoid looking suspicious, she made a move to walk away, moving far enough away to make him feel like he was safe. Once he had succumbed to whatever activity would relieve his gaze from her retreating form, she wiggled her fingers deftly and suddenly the chair seemed immune to gravity. It rose unsteadily, only a foot or two from the floor, her grip on the connection rather rocky, no doubt making him uneasily with the shaky thrum of power which held him aloft. Before she lost her grip on the chair, she curved her hand ever so slightly, tipping the chair forward and hopefully sliding its current occupant straight off its old cushion. If he had been deposited on the floor as she hoped, she would move toward him again, letting the chair fall to the floor with a dull thud that was barely heard over the noise and reclaimed her throne once again. The cushions seemed more comfortable with the taste of victory so heavy on her ivory, freckled features. She crossed her legs, fingers holding the arms of the chair in a soft grip. “You were saying?” She asking patronizingly.

[Charlie] If Emmelia wished for the athlete to put a stop to the incessant hounding, her cheeky smile was not helping, her entertainment at his foolery only encouraging his efforts. The girl was an easy mark, a note made the day earlier when he goaded her into his games, tonight she was but a random plaything he had chosen amidst the crowd, an attempt to suppress his growing boredom. A wicked glimmer of mischievous intent flashed within his olive hues, distraction successful, muscled arms elevated the dainty doll into the air, planting her into a new pit, his throne once more cushioning his descending rump. Whilst settling into his reclaimed seat, an obscure cushion unsettled him. A reach around would reveal that it was not a cushion but instead Emmelia’s abandoned sweater. The bundle was pulled into his lap, examined by the same wicked stare, a rush of ideas flooded his prank prone brain. Whilst the fellow fire mage spoke, he would stifle her remark with the sweater, a cloth projectile launched at her likely pouting lips. “It is hardly war if one side dominates the other so easily.“ Quite the arrogant lad, he slurped his beer revelling in his believed victory, all the while unbeknownst to him, the little lass he aggressed was preparing her counter attack. Distracted by the mirth of the St Paddy’s day celebrations, unsurprisingly alone, he spied the antics of his fellow jocks whilst he drank. With the bottle lifted to his lips, the glass jerked away from his mouth, grasping the now rocking armchair. “The fuck?“ He uttered in surprise, cursing question left unanswered as he was tipped from the chair. Jumping to a stand, beer bottle forgotten on the ground, he whirled to see the animated chair now occupied by none other than its previous occupant. “Clever, I think you didn’t learn your lesson.“ Both hands free, he brought them down upon her digging claws, prying them from the fabric at a struggle. With added force he wormed them free of their clutching, holding them in his own he lifted both arms over his shoulder once more, at a sudden jerk he lifted her from the seat, and marched not to the couch but instead through the Meth Lab, spinning and smirking, Emmelia becoming his makeshift trophy. “Oh and before I forget.“ An open palm found itself spanking her pert rear, yet much like the day before, it was his hand which was now ablaze, the heat singing the cloth which obstructed her skin from view. With the damage done, he dropped her down to her feet, head tilting in an attempt to admire his handiwork.

Auron had foundhimself outside of the glowing St. Patty's day celebrations inside the "Meth Lab". Having been drug there as a lackey by the Shifter jock Walsh and his buddies to serve as a kind of DD to get them back to their beds after anight of drinking, he had been told that he ws not allowed to be there. Didn't even wanna come teh this stewpid gatherin' He thought and mumbled to himself. Having been expelled from the warm party, he had found a tree to settle down by, feeling the night air sink in and chill his pearlescent skin. He had hunkered down, and wraped his arms around his knees, and laid his head there to wait for Walsh's call. With the shots flying and the beer ponk playing, it was not long till Walsh and all his shifter jocks were throughly thrashed and needing to 'tap the kegs' of their bladders. Auron had been staring at the moon with his two toned eyes, wondering if some fairy stories about the moon were true. Walsh had gathered a few of his buddies and then moved towards the darkness at the edge of the hangout, and into the woods to find a place to take a wiz. Walsh's throaty and deep voice yelled out, "Auron! You still out here?!" Auron jumped up and headed the short bit back to where Walsh and his buddies were just zipping up their trousers, 'Yeh, I'm here Walsh. Said I would be." He said as the drunk and merry Walsh turned and hucked a large arm around the smaller boy, pulling him incomfortably tight up under his arm in a bro-hug. "Auron! AUR-ON! You are like..." He wavered and Auron planted his feet to keep the large jock steady, "...Are like the future here! You KNOW!? YOU need a drink!" He said, slurring a bit and his buddies echoing him and hooting. "Um... neh Walsh, that fellah said I canne come in. I can just wa-" He was cut off when Walsh hucked the smaller boy over his shoulder and Auron had a very sudden kind of panic attack as the larger man carried him back towards the party, his buddies hooting to get the little one drunk. He pressed futily against the back of the huge jock. "Walsh! Please! He said I can'NEH! Walsh! I Don't want to!" He protested in vain as the group re-entered the party, heading for the booze, their leader with a drunken thought to drown the smaller young man in booze.

[Emmelia] Halfway through her threat, Charlie swung a lazy arm, the sweater catching her against the side of the face when, instinctively, she’d turn it away and hold her hands out like a shield. Fumbling to catch the material before it was deposited onto the dirty ground, Emmelia huffed softly, pushing her hair out of her eyes. For this reason, among others, she truly enjoyed watching his face abruptly change from oblivious amusement to shocked puzzlement, his beer falling from his fingers as he made a grab for the couch before he faced a similar fate. More than a few of the seniors, including his buddies, noted the mage as he was deposited non-too-gently from his seat, some yelling “Party foul!” among the surprised chuckles. Lucky for him, he managed to land on his feet; no doubt his skills on the Dball field assisted in keeping those reflexes of his in shape just as much as his broad musculature. Emma couldn’t help but appreciate the skill in which the arrogant youth kept up with her, though she was sure he had enough practice with defiant dames such as herself, considering how often he seemed to be surrounded by them. Emmelia was disappointed to find that she had reclaimed the chair for less than a minute before the little bastard pounced on her once again, fingers digging roughly into her vice-like grip on the chairs arms, slowly but surely prying them from the arms. Emmelia struggled against him, at first managing to be as slippery as an eel in his grip, his fingers being forced to grab more than once for her limbs before she was yanked up again. Emma tried to plant her feet as he sought to pull her bottom from the chair, her heels digging with fierce intensity into the ground. But, alas, she was not built to withstand a boy of his strength, no matter how determined. His hard arms eventually pulled her upward, his large shoulder nearly taking the break from her lungs. Shamefully, Emma kicking and jerked in his arm, her hands gripping the back of his shirt to pull herself upward enough to regain even a small hint of her dignity. His spilling movements made her dizzy, the green and gold of the room blurring around her, the cheers of the room for his latest escapade a sound that was whole-heartedly against his captive. “Charlie! Let me go, you fuckwad!” She snarled, clawing at his back and kicking his hard abdominals like a pinned animal. It was then he slapped her bottom hard, and the sizzle of her jeans, the stink of the burned material reached her senses despite how dizzy she was from his antics and her fury, gave her cause to panic. She tried to worm away, wiggling her torso to avoid the fate she had bestowed upon him just yesterday, but her jeans were ruined despite her efforts and she was tossed down on the ground without ceremony. Green eyes spitting fire, her jaw clenched tightly, Emma shoved him, meeting the wall of his hard figure without much impact. “Damn you, Charlie!” She grabbed up her jacket, tying it around her waist, ignoring the many around them that had become their audience, laughing and patting Charlie’s shoulder like he had just took down a boar on a hunt.

[Charlie] Upon closer inspection of Charlie’s features, a slight tinge of pink would be unveiled as he was launched from the hovering chair. The embarrassment of a teen would always garner the same reaction, yet Charlie stood, an awkward grin stretching from ear to ear, laughing off his ungracious tumble. Rounding on the occupant of his self proclaimed throne, amused by her futile attempt at denying him his rightful seat. A quirked brow met her adamant clutches and cross-legged position, the challenge offered and readily accepted. A doll in his hands, athletic musculature barely aiding in his rough housing of the lass. Lifting her from the seat and hoisting Emme’s dainty form upon his shoulder. The march through the festivities had been met with cheers and applause, laughter surrounding them as Charlie presented his prize, which struggled frantically within his grasp. The waving arms and kicking legs were avoided by passing students as upon her request, Charlie came to a halt. He had every intention of dropping her, only after an ablaze palm had burned away the denim of her jeans, unflatteringly revealing bare flesh and peek of panties beneath. The assault had been expected, allowing her small balled fists to beat against his hardened chest, a near immovable wall against her kitten like attack. “Lace? And here I thought you were a cotton girl.“ He teased, making his sneak peek of her undergarments known. Amidst his latest antics, Charlie had not noticed Auron being snuck back into the party, the boisterous opposing lads which pushed him inside guarding him from watchful eyes. Charlie revelled in the joining laughter and applause at his latest spectacle, enjoying the likely scowl Emmelia would offer him. “Aww what’s the matter, going to stand there and pout?“ He belittled her further, condescending gaze meeting her own.

Auron was not under any attempt to be hidden from the rest of the people at the party, as it was, his small, flailing form was hucked across the shoulders of the very tall and large Walsh. He stoped kicking furiously when they did enter the main area, afraid his feet would meet someone in the face should he keep it up, but he did indeed still protest, "Walsh! Come on mate! Put meh down! Please!" He said through clenched teeth, trying not to scream at the jock. He was indeed oblidged when Walsh gave a shrug and Auron's smaller body came flying off, and he fell the sum six feet onto his rear, his shoulder meeting the edge of a silvery keg and he hissed in a pained sound, clamping his hand over the beeping ache that spread from the point of impact. "Damnit Walsh!" He exclaimed, outloud, his accent thick as pudding. Walsh of course, laughed heartily, as well did his group of jock friends, and his large meaty mit reached down to haul Auron to his feet. As he was set, he stood, still holding his shoulder, red cups full of foam and beer were handed around to Walsh and his gang. "To our little friend here who got me an easy A on my latest round of exams!" Walsh boisterously gave a holler, downing the cup. Auron put his two toned eyes to the ground, ashamed. His mother would be heartbroken if she knew he had done something like cheated. Though he wouldn't see how she could be suprised by decit anymore, her father and brothers being politicians and all. But he was ashamed, none the less. "Drink up BUDDY!" Walsh said, shoving a red cup into his hands. The foam spilling over and sliding over his almost too pale skin. "But Walsh, mate, I really can'ne. Who will take ye and yer mates back to teh dorms? I think I sh-" He felt something akin to a vice wrap clean around his throat. It was Walsh's hand, and he looked like he might crush the smaller young man, "I SAID DRINK!" Auron tried to gasp in a breath, only to have it stick in his throat before he was released, And he quickly pushed the edge of the cup up to his face, feeling the beer, bitter in his taste, slide down his throat and chill his stomach. Walsh smiled a drunken sideways smile and cheered at his efforts paid off.

James` had finally managed to pull away from the academic boredom of his theory work, even for the gifted and swift of learning, theory was still a bitch. The practical work was the real attraction to his studies. Being in the zone when the practical work starts takes a lot of mental focus and physical stamina, the solution to recovery was easy however, St Paddy’s day, Meth Lab. The haven for Sixth Year students who had the privilege of having a place to reside with no rules, mad chats and good times. Having slipped into more stylish and comfortable cloths, he rolled up the sleeves of his lose white shirt, clipped the belt on his blue jeans with his hat for party effect and glasses for finish, “Hmm…” It was St Paddy’s Day, green was essential for the occasion so he grabbed one of his green shirts and tore off a part of the material typing it to his forearm before making the great escape. It didn’t take long of the Healer to get over to the Meth Lab, being such a good student as he was known to be would have a saving grace effect if he happened to get caught wandering over to the Meth Lab. Be good at what you do and better at what you like doing, that was always the motto and today, drinking and partying would be the thing he liked doing. The trek through the woods was always appreciated, he liked the idea of the Meth Lab being out here, and the Sixth Year who created it was a genius and his work admired by all who followed after. As he arrived he glanced to see a group pulling in someone against their will, a grin coming across his face as he strolled into the Meth Lab, a stylish Clarke Kent arriving on the scene. Glancing around the room he spotted Charlie with a girl, “Good form.” He’d move over to Charlie and company, his eyes gazing down at the sweater around the girl’s waist before looking up to them both, “What smells like burnt?” The noise from the struggling what now appeared to be an lower grade student, “Looks like the Lab has been invaded by a lower grade, though I don’t think it was by choice.” Glancing to the group around the younger student he looked back to Charlie, “Who the fuck are those idiots?”