IX. Rumors [Friday]

Drake was working in his library. A few catagorical errors had him re-ordering a section all morning, and he was just only able to finish up. The two story hall of old tomes and grimoires was heavy work, but there was nothing more he loved than books. They were something he invested himself in, after everything else went under. He had also been asked to investigate some things by the head master. The master had been curt and short with his request on information, saying only to deliver his findings as soon as possible. So he went about doing this now. The librarian, looking like a librarian would, slacks, sensible brown shoes, a sweater vest and button up. Combed hair, spectacles. Though he was a bit more broad on account of the muscle it took to re-shelve some of the larger old books. He gathered what he was needing to re-search what the Master had asked. "Mind altering substances: A mage's Guide" and "Aether Anatomy: Strange Cases" were the first two titles he started with, the first being a somewhat palm sized book. A field guide really. The other, a giant book that grew larger as it was opened to show full size body layouts of Aether touched with strange deformities or medical cases. He moved to a small, shaded alcove, lighting a small lamp there to light up the gloom to start reading, a quill scratching away as he found details he thought would be pertinent to the headmaster's request.

[Jacob] walked down the hall while on his free period, humming a catchy tune in his head "Na..nana..nana na...batman..mmm..hmm..mm Batman!" he was as innocent as a child, or, just a childish as one, either or. Jacob would soon find himself at the library and blinks looking up at the door debating if he wanted to go inside or not, he wasn't much of a reading fan but he does enjoy a good book on plants, maybe thye might have a book on exotic type plants. Opening the door he'd walk in and eyes widen at the sheer size of the library, it looked big enough to have an echo. Looking around makign sure no one was around he made a soft breath and called out "Echo." and it worked, he jumped in the air with a victorious grin on his face then quickly ran off so as to not get caught by the librarian. After running off he would begin to trot along the aisles of books "Hmm..mages...fire...water....elemental...ah plants!" goes into that section and starts to look through the books, wanting to find something that really grasped his interest.

Drake was turning a rediculously sized page of a werewolf who had been cursed with reverse lycanthropy, and the damage it did to his system mid change when a small echo reached his delicately turned ears. It was also like a crypt in the library, so sound was not hard to catch. He smiled at the seemingly silliness of the word. Echo. He stifled a small smile before standing from his research and notes, seeking out the origin of the echo. It took him a minute to travel about the library, but he soon passed a long cooridor of books where the young man looked among the books. In an effort to better aquaint himself with the students, he had been looking through files and such, putting names to faces, but he did not know this one. He must have been new. His feet tapped quietly as he moved over to the young man who had a fairly new book about the theory of Aether touched plants, specifically Fae plants. "Ah, that is a good book, it goes well with..." His spectacles moved to the rows of books on the shelf, before his hand reached out and plucked out a small book, and handed it to him, the title page said the book was "Dr. Grean: South American photography of Aether plant-life" In small letters. It looked and felt delicate. "Go easy on that small book. It's old..." He said, being serious but kind at the same time about the care of what he considered, in a way, to be HIS books.

[Jacob] looked to the books with as bright smile as he turned and saw the librarian "Hola!" he said happily waving to the other he nearly slipped up on speaking spanish again when he spoke "I wanted to find about a book about bringing plants to life, like..summoning..uhm whats the word.." the snapped his fingers as he thought "Something like a treant." he remembered finally, he was capable of making plants take shape into things but he wanted to bring those shapes to life, why? Cause...it would be cool to have a plant pet? He's just very into flora leave it at that. But he did accept that old book on south american plants "Oohh gracias gracias mister librarian." he hled the book close to his chest, he knew a few good plants but maybe this book being so old might have more he didn't know about and could probably go looking for "Uhm...what is your name? Uh..sir" he added at the end of his sentence so he didn't sound informal or anything but he still had that thick south american accent which won't be going anywhere any time soon.

Auron had been released from the infirmary after a full day and night and day again to get him back to a place where he was able to go to classes again. He had attended his first couple, then had a free period. He caught up on some homework, then decided that he needed to be outside. He packed away his books in his dorm, and headed out. He decided to go down to the loch. The idea of calm water was something he wanted, or really needed. He had been somewhat "out of it" since the incident on the field. Walsh was still in the infirmary. Auron, was above all things, a pacifist. He was terribly dissapointed in himself for what he had done. The violence of it made him ashamed. He ran it over in his head as he moved quietly out the doors of the school and towards the Glass Loch. The grass barely dented as he walked upon it, his two toned eyes flitting towards the woods where he had been found near death. He moved the hanging strands out of his face before tucking his hands into his pockets. If nothing came between him and the loch, he would move out to the end of the dock, standing and looking at the glass refection of himself. He felt his stomach flip flop. He could see his father in him now. The pension for strong handing every situation. The use of violance. And lightening was his father's thing. He breathed out a shuttering breath as he gazed at his refection, feeling like he had failed at the one thing he promised himself he would do.

Drake reached up to adjust his spectacles as he heard the boy's request and questions, "Doctor, actually. Dr. Grimm. And there are quite a few theories on the subject. Some literaries believe that any kind of plant life that is sentient is Aether, and given enough time to evolve, might become a new race. Non-sentient creatures like moving plants can be hexed to life, i suppose, depending on your definition of life. You may want to look up a title, The living leaf: a detailed biography of Herbert West, he was a very well known elemental mage who looked into that very subject. Im sure you would find his work facinating, if that is what you are looking for. If you need anything else, please feel free to find me or one of the assigned library assistants." Drake finished, glad to have enspired the boy to look into some books, and if not further spoken to, he would return to his small alcove to pick up his research for the head master.

[Jacob] smiles at the doctor "Oh thank you very much Doctor Grimm!" with that he nods and rushes off with much enthusiasm to find these book he talked about. Searching bookshelf after bookshelf the young boy looked up and down, alphabatized and by the title of authors he was havign some what of a hard time trying to find the book. In hopelessness he bangs his head against one of the shelves "Aww..." with some luck the book shook free and fell on his head causing him to yelp in surprise and fall over on his rear "Ahh..my head.." blinks as he saw the book he was looking for laying on the grounds "Hahaha!" he picks it up and holds the book to his chest "I found it." running off to find the check out booth, he'd take the two books and run off to read the books and perhaps learn how to advance his powers more

[Charlie] The young women of Hecate would eerily find themselves free of the unrelenting goading of Charlie Brooks. The library was absent of his appearance, the Meth Lab equally as void, and the great hall where so many seated themselves during their leisure hours was occupied by all others, except for the mage. The lunch hour had fell upon them, so many students which filled the corridors had flushed into the hall, feasting upon the delectable’s readily made for their feasting. Charlie counted himself upon the few whom chosen to spill out onto the school grounds, a rare sunny day within the March month, irregular heat warming those that relished in it, their only relieve from the watchful sun’s glare, was a cool breeze, a delightfully chilling grasp frisking those that braved it. If not enjoying lunch like the rest of the masses, where was the Magnus student? Charlie in all his athletic glory, had taken advantage of the surprisingly vacant Durusball field. Clad in the navy physically inclined education outfit, he stomped his way up and down the field, sneaker adorned feet gliding across the green with soccer like ball in tow. He had arrived early, as the bell rung, he raced through the corridors and made his appearance just as Professor Xander’s last class had finished. Charlie initially believed himself to be alone, stretches forgotten, he leapt right into the tunnel vision inducing sport, losing himself in the game. His attempted goals and flamboyant trickery with the sphere had summoned an audience, girls with carried lunches littered the bleachers, a small group laughing amongst themselves, gossiping and bitching whilst taking less than subtle glances at the performing mage. A smug grin full of amusement curled his lips whilst he played, tricks growing ever more complex with each girlish giggle that was gifted him.

[Mila] It was odd to see the Coliseum empty of a game on so bright a day, but then, it was rather early in the lunch hour and the usual jocks who played a quick game of Durusball amongst friends were likely still eating, or perhaps making use of the football field, instead. Mila seldom ate her lunch in the Great Hall, obviously preferring the outdoors and a perhaps unhealthily quick consumption of her unhealthily small meals. It wasn't that she was watching her weight – and surely, she ate enough at dinner, but the girl was a whimsical femme. Easily distracted and as excitable as a juvenile. She wanted to spend every moment of the lit day in the open air, and playing the sports that she loved. On the stone benches she sat, watching as only Charlie took to the field and began to practise. Her knee was bouncing as she chewed her sandwich hurriedly, irritably, wanting only to be done with the darn thing so she could run down and play. That was it. Mila stuffed the remainder in her mouth, resembling a blowfish as she chewed quickly and rose to a stand, finishing as she took to the stairs. The femme passed by Brigitte, Roxi and Candy. Bitching and giggling. A friendly girl, and easy-going, she was no particular target of the B.F.F's and though she spoke occasionally to them when they were separated, as a group, the Australian brunette had certainly never hung out with them. On passing, she just barely head them whispering about another girl. Johanna Grahn. She's pregnant. Distracted and amazed, the usually graceful femme found herself too distracted on her descent to be sure-footed and, of course, her shoe met only air. Time slowed. There was a gasp escaping plush, cherry-stained lips, a desperate grasp at the air by clawing hands and then she was tumbling down three flights of stairs. All, the way, to the, bottom. She'd screamed some, body battered by the Coliseum. Even the B.F.F's were shocked, and stood from the third floor of bleachers to look with concern, but they didn't rush to help. Mila was okay. Already the femme was sitting up, if painfully.

[Charlie] Despite showboating for his audience, taking full advantage of the spotlight he seemed to so often crave, he was actually enjoying himself. The athlete yearned for competition, so enamoured with his favourite sport that even the harsh frost of winter had struggled to put a stopper his regular visits to the coliseum. Passing he pigskin from one foot to the other, sneakers dirtied by the constant whisking of the grass beneath them, with a flick of his ankle, the ball would find itself planted firmly upon his foot. With a feline like balance he held it there, glinting emeralds locked upon it, chiselled features pinched in concentration. The pause would be brief, for with a single lift of his leg, the ball fired into the air, in flight for just a moment, before hurtling back down to its aggressor. Charlie waited, eyes never leaving the meteor which descended upon him, everything else faded, or so he believed, when the attention grasping scream of a tumbling Seer piqued his curiosity. Chancing a glance, the ball had taken the opportunity to land upon his head, with a pang the leather bounced from his carefully constructed locks, making its escape across the green whilst the athlete was distracted. A broad hand ran through his tawny brown locks, ruffling them affectionately whilst Cheshire lips curled to reveal the brilliant whites of his smile. A haughty laugh escaped him, quite entertained by Mila’s tumble, he made his amusement known. Collecting the ball which was believed to have escaped him, he kicked it to the edge of the field, at a jog he followed, coming to a halt at the ground steps of the stands. “Don’t fall, it gets you down.“ He mockingly teased, laughter still littering his tone.

[Mila] It was rare occasion in which one might see others picking fun at Mila, or hurting her. Almost like kicking a kitten, for she was a sweetheart in an easy-going fashion, well liked, and with fewer enemies than most. In fact, she would have been hard-pressed to name one, did someone ask it of her. Falling down three flights of stone steps wasn't the best of ways to spend her lunch hour. Both knees were skinned, grazes on hands and arms, a large bump forming at her skull and a painful twist of one wrist and one ankle. She was lucky she'd not broken her neck, or at least a leg. Charlie's laugh drew her attention, and the pained girl glanced his way when he sidled up to her in usual, cocky bastardy. There was no witty remark for the boy she affectionately dubbed Charizard instead, she stared up at him with a quivering lower lip and disbelief mixed with hatred in wide, doe-eyes that glistened with unshed tears.

[Charlie] Charlie couldn’t help himself, for one who believed himself so superior, it had become force of habit in finding amusement at another’s misfortune. Mila’s untimely descent down the flight of steps had preyed upon this habit, drawing the amusement from him which he so selfishly allowed. Coming to a stop at the bottom of the steps, ball accompanied him by his side, his comment left his lips before the sight of her put a stop in the usual played apathetic attitude he was renown for. The teasing between believed friends was not returned, that was how he knew something was wrong. Standing over her, he caught the familiar glance so many others gifted him, seemingly close to tears, he came to a crouch before her. At a taller stature than the Seer, despite her pert rear planted upon the bottom seat, his own olive hues met her eye level. Digits coming to cup her chin, he moved her head from side to side, as if she was a doll for his inspection, porcelain cheeks finding themselves examined. “Chin up darlin’ you look like you’re in one piece.“ This time he offered her a smile void of his ego inflated arrogance. It was a strange to see the boy being so nice, but Mila could be counted among the rare few that, in his group he actually could stand the company, she was more than one of his unaffectionate playthings, he considered her a friend, even if he had a funny way of showing it. “Now do you want a hand? Or are you going to sit there and pout.“ She likely needed much more than a hand but still he crouched before her, his lips sculpted into a disarming smile.

[Emmelia] As usual, Emmelia found herself at, what she considered, to be her designated tree during her free period after Professor McMahon’s class. With her back settled comfortably against its ancient trunk, tucked in neatly within the embrace of its many roots, she was nose deep in a book, of all things. The breeze felt wonderful; spring’s warmth enveloped her, a soft breeze toying with her curls and caressing bare, creamy skin not contained within the school uniform. The book had been read several times, a favorite from her youth that would never truly age. The spine of the paperback was creased and torn in several places, the pages stained and bent oddly to the right. Yet it remained a favorite, irreplaceable. Still, all things considered, her attention was not so enraptured that she didn’t catch the movement in her peripherals moving down the length of the dock, the figure slender, the dark hair a beacon against the bright sunshine of the afternoon. Lowering the book slightly, she realized there was something familiar about the small boy, but it took her several minutes before she was able to pinpoint the slight face of a boy trying to be invisible on St. Patty’s Day. Within these memories, she also remembered how the boy had attempted to help her, concealing her shame with some kind of glamour. Emma had been pretty upset that night and hadn’t had a good chance to thank him, possibly had even come off as rather rude. Folding her page, shoving the novel in her newly sewn book bag and standing, Emma moved toward the dock, brushing the dirt off her skirt, if there was any. “Hey.” She said softly, forcing her naturally quiet footsteps to be heavy enough to be heard before her voice had interrupted him, if only not to startle him. “I.. uh.. I never really thanked you well enough for the other day. I don’t know if you even remember me..” She halted and stood there awkwardly for his inspection, flinging her book bag over one shoulder and continuing to grip its strap.

Auron reached up and loosened the tie on his uniform. It felt stifling and since being nearly choked to death, he was not liking the tightness. His muscles still hurt. The burns, breaks, fractures, bruises and every other kind of injury had been taken care of, but magic can only do soo much. Some pain still lingered in the form of stiffness and muscle / bone pain. He rubbed his ribs a bit, his chest still the most tender part, wrapped in bandage still, under his own uniform. He looked down inthe water, his reflection staring back up at him. Those two toned eyes judging him, letting him know that he was no better than his brute of a father and brothers. He still had not heard if lashes were in-order for his almost killing Walsh, and some part of him hoped there was. In his mind, the amount of force he used was monsterous, even though he was also sure he had prevented Walsh from outright killing that ice girl. He exhaled a defeated sound, fighting with his dedicated feelings towards non-violance, and at how good he was at it. He was lost in these thoughts when he heard the footsteps. He turned quickly to see a face not quite familiar, but some vague memory of the party, before Walsh had taken his frusterations out on him, and left him nearly dead in the woods afterwords. His two toned eyes looked at her, one a deep, almost angry red, the other, neon blue. He looked over her curls, and scanned her face, and remembered, Lacey Panties, but he wouldn't say such a thing. "I remember." He said simply, placing one hand on the dock pole. All he needed to make his week worse was to have some prep-girl fling him off the deck into the chill waters. He was a flyer, not a swimmer. He looked defensive, spreading his feet just a bit, and watching her every movement. You would be two if you had the days that he had had.

[Mila] Willing herself not to cry, the lass did her best ignoring the fact that scraped flesh stung against the brush of the cool, outside air. Pretending it didn't feel as though someone had battered her repeatedly. Stone, did that to you. Her head ached and everything hurt. Suddenly, Charlie was attempting to cheer her, clearly seeing how close the spritely, infectious Australian was to crying. It had been a long time since she'd been so publicly affected, remembering a moment of tears in her First year at Hecate. Had there been tears since then? A few, silent cries in the shower and the darkness of night, tucked up in bed. One delicate, scraped hand brushed angrily at her eye. “I'mnotpouting.” She was. Then, she was rising to a stand without his help. Willing herself not to cry, the lass did her best ignoring the fact that scraped flesh stung against the brush of the cool, outside air. Pretending it didn't feel as though someone had battered her repeatedly. Stone, did that to you. Her head ached and everything hurt. Suddenly, Charlie was attempting to cheer her, clearly seeing how close the spritely, infectious Australian was to crying. It had been a long time since she'd been so publicly affected, remembering a moment of tears in her First year at Hecate. Had there been tears since then? A few, silent cries in the shower and the darkness of night, tucked up in bed. One delicate, scraped hand brushed angrily at her eye. “I'mnotpouting.” She was. Then, she was rising to a stand without his help.

[Jacob] sat in the woods ontop of a tree as he immersed himself into the books reading the content and soaking up every word of it "This is amazing..." the boy smiled behind the cover of his book. Thinking to himself as he looked around to the trees and bushes below him "So you're all alive, just motionless." he said with a grin, somehow that idea brought comfort to him for since he lived in the jungle for most his life he thought something out there was looking over his well being. It could have been his dead parents but really it may have been the trees and flowers of the jungle telling him what to do, where to go and how to do it. This made his usual grin of joy become a smile of contentment, looking up at the tree he was ontop of and smiled more "I wonder if..."looked to the book and flipped a few pages o see if there was anything about communication.

[Beau] Somehow things the past few days had seemed overly hectic and chaotic. Maybe it was the added tutoring sessions or the unexpected brawl after capture the flag. Or maybe his professors just decided to pile on the assignments into this week, but whatever it was Beau now found himself with a butt-ton of work that he managed to get a bit behind on. After, finishing the Sixth years Herbology assignment in return for a facial healing – one that Alice did for free – he had still already taken the time to do the work and thus cashed in his efforts for a big o’ goose egg. Then came his own Herbology assignment, to which the lunch period he was meant to spend completing was lost in a mess of French and Spanish exchange with Jacob and Lara. Now, it was due at the end of the day and he found himself in the lab scrambling to finish despite the lack of sleep and fatigue that was catching up to the bashful fifth year. It didn’t help that this growing patch of scales on his leg still persisted, and his added library research to try and figure out why had been unsuccessful thus far. But on task as much as he could manage, Beau snapped and sprinkled a piece of collected fungi from the forest into a petri dish with some clear liquid letting it fizzle for a few seconds before bubbles began to rise and he dumped it all into a beaker and put it under a artificial heat lamp. Now he had to wait, and while waiting he might as well flip open a book. Hands rubbed at his tired eyes as he took a seat on a nearby stool, set the timer for the growing plant, and rested his chin in his palm and his elbow on the lab table. If he wasn’t careful, which he apparently wasn’t, those blue optics fluttered shut into a half dazed sleep, his hunched over form easing into a slump, as his head lulled to one side. Sooner or later though, that timer would go off. ||

[Charlie] Upon closer inspection, Charlie could see that she was not fine. Delicate features seemed unharmed yet it was the rest of her dainty miniscule form that held cause for worry. From the red welts and scraped skin, the girl appeared very much not okay. It was a strange sight to see Mila in such a vulnerable position, the very girl whom held the courage to raise a hand to Jake Connolly, it was disheartening to see her so battered and bruised. Even the distant and apparent nonchalant Charlie was affected by the sight of the Seer being reduced to tears. He offered her a hand, which was left ignored. When she rose to a stand, he joined her, athletic musculature dwarfing the beaten doll, he held her stubborn tear glistened gaze. It was a struggle not to roll his eyes, instead persistence and determination had taken hold, leading his vocals. “Come on love, let’s get you to the infirmary.“ He tried to take her hand, offering his support in leading her back to Hecate. If pulled away or brushed aside, he eyed her like a parent might look upon a misbehaving child. “Look, we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way.“ He paused for a moment, allowing her options to sink in, the curious gazes of the blondes above left ignored. “The hard way? Got it.“ Effortlessly, broad arms would carefully scoop the girl up into a bridal carrying position, no doubt a sting of pain would rush through her form before settling as he cradled her. “That was quite a trip, no postcard for me?“ He joked, trying to make light of the situation and putting a smile on her pouting lips.

[Emmelia] Emma must have been thoroughly flustered by her own misfortunes at the party; She hadn’t realized the strange eyes the boy had. Recognition appeared in them, but neither his delicate features, nor his stature changed. If anything, his body went rigid and unwelcoming. Emma blinked the pale olive eyes, thoroughly surprised to see the defensive stance and something close to hostility in his gaze. She wasn’t sure if this was due to the rumors that surrounded the supposed murderess or if he had his own reasons. She did recall that the boy had moved out of her way rather quickly at the party, as though she would be verbally or physically abusive. Perhaps , then, it had nothing to do with her. Still, Emma couldn’t help the heavy sigh that escaped full lips, frustrated that she seemed to always bring about a negative reaction in people. “Well, I just wanting you to know, so..” She looked around for a moment before her gaze settled back upon the youth once again, feeling a little defensive herself. “Did I... do something to offend you?” She finally asked into the disturbed silence that hung heavy with blind tension.

Jacob blinks as he reads the book in closer detail mumbling softly to himself "Ohh I get it!!" smiles as he turned to the tree and places his hands on it letting his magical energies flow through him and into the tree closing his eyes "Hello...? Hello..? Anyone there?" he tilted his head till finally he heard a voice and gasps "Haaahh Hola hola! Mi nombre es.." he was stopped as the tree spoke to him "Ah..right..my names Jacob, do you have a name?" he was talking to a tree, either this boy was half mad or he actually had a connection to the earth that was deeper than he thought.

Auron had not heard the rumors about the girl that addressed him now. He was not in any kind of crowd, save what had been Walsh's shifter jock clique, but he was not privvy to their chatty rumor files. So any tension he had, it was because he had beaten nearly to death twice in the span of three days, and he didn't want to even that up. Even if he did hear the rumor, she seemed to have a softer demeanor than most murdering children seem to have. He felt the tension in the air, the thick distrust of one another. He knew this well. His brothers and father were always in the cloud. He sighed and relaxed his stance when she seemed to be not fond of his thinking her a threat. He ran one hand down the back of his head, and neck, shaking his head softly, "Nah. I've had a tough week so far. Nuttin' of yer fault. And ye did sey Thank You at teh party, before teh fight broke out." He said, seeming to loosen up, his thick irish accent dancing naturally in his words as he went quiet again. The silence of the loch settled in, but was moved after a moment by a soft breeze. Auron breathed it in as it danced over his clothes and through his hair. He looked up as it did the same to her, watching her hair dance a bit on the soft air. He broke the silence, not wanting to let the silence sink, "Is it yer free period? Or ditching class?" He figured it was innocent enough to ask, not too pry-ey.

[Lara] Having gotten little sleep herself, she too was feeling the effects. But, with this extra-curricular self-imposed assignment of hers under way, the belle was far too restless to simply sleep her nights away. At midnight, hours before she'd been gallivanting through broken rule after broken rule with none other than James who had become her accomplice in an unplanned strike of fate. The next step? It was the lunch hour, and while most were eating, socialising or playing at sport, our Lara was headed straight for the laboratories. Like any classroom of Hex, the area was ancient in appearance, even the paintings and parchments strung across the walls looking as though they'd witnessed an age of students. There were benches in place of desks, ones that catered for two students apiece. Partners in class, mind. Lately she'd found herself teamed with Charlie, at least when it came to Elixirs class. Striking orbs of emerald peered forth one way, then the next. The use of such rooms were permitted if only granted the permission of a Professor to do so, and of course, when missing things turned up in the storeroom attached – shed not want her name associated, or her presence remembered. Lara didn't ask. She was surprised to find no need for the paper-clip brought to pick at the lock. Open. A delicate hand pushed past the barricade and, on entering, she found herself uttering a simple “Huh.” She was running into Beau a lot lately. Strange, considering she had only seen the Fifth year in passing, prior to that fateful class when they'd been forced to partner in dance. Her eyes narrowed in an uncharacteristic glare, plush lips scowling some and, not only because he was intruding on her secret thievery in the lab. Something was bothering her. “What are you doing here,” she snapped.

[Mila] She wasn't as stubborn as, say, Lara. This girl was simply too easily distracted to hold a grudge, and too good-natured to ever want to. His hand was taken, Mila leaning into his support as he spoke in most uncharacteristically kind a tone, his words.. dare she say it? Nice. Then, before she knew it, he was scooping her up and bringing her petite form close to his. A gasp tore from her throat in both surprise and discomfort at the sudden movement and adjustment of aching limbs but, in the long-run, it would do her better. Every step beforehand had been agony and the castle seemed so far from here, when it actually wasn't very far at all. Slim arms slipped around his neck loosely to steady herself, head against his shoulder. “No postcard, Charizard.” Pouting, she added, “My head hurts.”

[Jacob] the boy bounced with excitement as he jumped from the tree waving good-bye to it "Bye bye Old one!" with that he raced around the forest getting to know each and every living tree, bush, flower and weed he could. There were so many all with their own personality a hidden species within the human world, his greatest dreams have come true finding a voice within the thing that intrests him the most. He wanted to tell someone this, he had to tell someone, someone somone "Oh!! Mila!" she was the only one that seemed friendly enough to believe him, with a raised leg he moved like a blur running into the school going around and around looking for the girl.

[Beau] Rather quickly, Beau’s little dazed nap had turned into a solid few minutes of an near REM sleep cycle. The timer still ticked away silently, not quite near completion while the book in front of him was left uselessly open to a page on Mer genetics and supernatural anatomy of sorts. Useless because he couldn’t’ say he exactly understood it, nor was he in the process of reading it either. So there it sat, as did he in a still slumber until otherwise provoked. And sooner than his dreamless sleep or his lackluster body had anticipated, a sharp and biting collection of words slipped into his repose and violently pulled him, kicking and thrashing , to the surface and to reality. His head shot up in a blink, but not before awkwardly slipping from its unsteady perch that was his hand. His form swayed in prolonged moment of disorientation before equilibrium caught up with him and the stool holding him up kept the boy rightly anchored. A few drowsy blinks had him eyeing Lara with a truly confused expression. He hadn’t quite got enough of a cat nap for it to be refreshing, rather it was much too short for it to be anything but a teaser, leaving him groggily trying to put together a proper and coherent sentence. What resulted was a, muffled murmur as a hand ran up the side of his face as if that would help wake him up. “M’srrywhat?” ||

[Emmelia] For a moment or two, the youth seemed to continue her someone necessary of his suspicions. Those strange, multihued orbs focused on her, his legs parted as though intent on flight. Emmelia waited, trying to be patient under the heavy scrutiny, hoping that, if she stood there long enough without making any sudden movements, the animalistic fright in his features would dissipate. After long last, the wait granted her a sudden sigh from the boy as the tension left him and, in doing so, Emma was able to relax, as well. His words earned him a one shouldered shrug, dark curls bouncing off and sliding down her back. “Ah. Well, I’m relieved I remembered my manners in the middle of my tantrum.” She joked with the hint of a smile, trying to ward off any awkwardness that still lingered. The silence then stretched for a moment and she used the time to absently smooth the wrinkles from her skirt, green eyes surveying the waters that she had looked upon many times during the year. He spoke again, earning back her attention. “Yeah, it’s a free period.” She confirmed, rocking back and forth restlessly. It wasn’t very typical for Emma to seek out social interaction, so this was a little awkward, trying to think of something else to say. “Weren’t you.. in the infirmary or something? I don’t know all the details, but your friend, he was already bloody by the time I left. Did you get caught in the middle of that?”

[Charlie] Charlie actually had a compassionate bone in his body, who knew? It was certainly most unlike him to be offering himself up as some form of crutch. The majority of his friends knew that they would be hard pressed to get him to lend a helping hand, he wasn’t exactly the kinda guy you asked to help you move. But it seemed he had one weakness, a natural sucker for puppy dog eyes, a cute kitten like demeanour getting him every time. Taking her dainty digits into his own rough grasp, forcing some effort on his part not to harm her further. After only a few steps, the aching and constant whimpers had become too much to bare. Being the uncharacteristic gentleman, he scooped her up into his arms, the surprised gasp escaping her lips helped shaped the amused smile of his own. They were quite the sight, the Seer nestled comfortably in his arms whilst he trudged across the grounds, taking care not to jostle her too much, he treated her like ornamental glass, as if she could shatter at any moment. “Should count yourself lucky, I don’t make a habit of helping damsels in distress.“ Oh how special she was, his comment liable to earn him a roll of the eyes. “Not long now love. Do you want some bread to go with that duck face? How about I see that pretty smile of yours instead.“ He cooed, his efforts an obvious attempted distraction as he carried her across the grounds. It wouldn’t be long before, much to the surprise of onlookers, Charlie carrying Mila into the infirmary, placing her delicately upon one of the vacant beds. Standing at her bedside, brushing a straying hair from her pained features, he asked. “You gonna be okay darlin’?“

[Lara] Belatedly realising he'd fallen asleep and still, Lara felt no remorse. “Ugh.” She strode forth into the room, her graceful step swift and sure, wanting only to be in and out as quickly as possible. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. “I. Said.” Spoken rather sternly, “What are you doing here?” Striking emerald flicked their gaze to the storeroom, eyeing it and wondering all at once whether or not she could trust him enough, to steal when he was present. Really, his unwanted appearance was ruining her plans. One Mary-Jane clad foot tapped her irritation on the stone beneath them, gaze darting about anywhere except for his eyes, while slender arms crossed themselves over the swell of her breasts.

[Mila] There certainly was a bone in Charlie's body, but, she'd never known it to be a compassionate one. His White Knight behaviour was both startling and unexpected, never before seen, at least not in regards to her. She felt safe within his arms, and certainly less pained when the struggle of walking was no longer her cross to bear. “Mnnf, whatever Charchar.” Not long at all, rounding the corner they were already in the castle and steps away from the infirmary after having taken the stairs. A few Professor's gave them a stern look, but seeing the grazes on her knees and the cuts, and quickly appearing bruises and swelling, they knew well enough these two weren't up to no good. Placed on the bed, she waited as Nurse Maebh made her presence known, and ducked off to acquire a few tools and herbs to treat the femme with. “Yeah,” she said, smoke and dusk meeting his at he tucked at a single lock of sleek sable. “I'll be fine.” When he left, the nurses would heal grazes to a point where it would appear as though naught had happened, easing bruises and swelling in much the same fashion. At the end of it all, added to a little exhaustion, Mila's only worry was that she had wasted her entire lunch hour in the infirmary. Bugger.

[Beau] Lara’s biting words had quite the sobering effect on the groggy fifth year. Brows sunk into this inverted expression of concerned confusion as the femme’s foot tap tapped irritably against the marble floor. Head canting a bit, like a kicked puppy, Beau sat a bit straighter, blinking sleep from his eyes as he tried and failed to catch her wandering gaze. “I-I’m just catching up on homework…” Said the Mer lowly, as he stifled a building yawn and effectively nipped it in the bud. Rising from the stool and onto his feet, he slightly stretched, catching her lingering emeralds as they settled on the storeroom door. “Do you need something in there?” As if his help would somehow help him get back on her good side, not that he knew why she was upset in the first place. “I have the key – Professor Sage lets me use it..” He trailed off, frowning at his tennis shoes for a moment. Mustering the gumption, he took a few steps in her direction, stopping at the end of the lab table. “What’s wrong?” He inquired, searching his brain for options, ideas, and assumptions. “Is it about yesterday? – I. I thought you were joking. Of course I think you’re, uh.. attractive..” It was the only thing he could think of that might have upset her. Despite his best efforts, that embarrassing heat began to build, just about touching his cheeks before he managed to reign it in and keep it somewhat at bay. “Lara, I didn’t mean-” Words clearly not his forte, Beau sort of gave up with his sputterings and let his shoulders slouch in a defeated fashion – tired and confused, for sure. ||

[Lara] Catching up on sleep, more like. Her emerald eyes rolled heavenward, clear disdain painted about those beautifully carved features, attractive even in a rage. “Right.” A quiet, woman's rage. Now she turned her gaze to his once more, suspicious of his offer, unsure if she should tell him. He had the key. Attempting to pick the lock would take longer, but because Beau had the key, if Sage noticed anything amiss in the storeroom, she knew on who's shoulders the blame would fall. Was she that mad at him? Angry enough, not to care if she earned him the lash? But she needed the stores and equipment.. She shifted uncomfortable in her stance, arguing with the invisible angel and devil on each shoulder. But, she was pulled from this debate. What's wrong? Her expression soured, remembering with shamed embarrassment how she had been talking, goading and flirting with him only the day before. Or had it been Tuesday? Either way. “Like I care if you find me attractive or not. You're... you're so self-obsessed! Ugh.” It wasn't that teasing that had bothered her, it was later. “You would find anything attractive. I know your type.” Her head inclined, “I know aaalll about you and Johanna. You have a thing for Sixth years, oui? Idiot.” Cutting her losses she stormed from the room, thinking she would return to gather the equipment and stores another day – her experiment could be put on hold for a moment, a testament to the fact that she was only a teenager, and youths so juvenile would find themselves moody and jealous, even without reason. Her lower lip quivered in anger and hurt, “And forget about the studying. I don't need you.”

[Beau] Oblivious to any underlying motives, he fidgeted and thumbed the key in his pocket briefly, prepared to pluck it out and put it to use for sixth year siren. However, when his relatively bold inquiry as to her temperament had her sporting a sour puss, he mirrored her expression, his lips a thin line. His nervous ramblings had earned him quite the caustic response and instead of a nervous flush washing his features, an utterly baffled and embarrassed expression to its place. Lips parted, but he couldn’t think of words quick enough. Blindsided, Lara wielded words like they were a sharp weapon, and boy did they sting. Self obsessed? His type? Johanna? ..Who the hell was Johanna? Beau was at a complete loss, any confidence he’d had with speaking to the French belle had been dashed against the walls of the Herbology lab. Standing there dumbstruck, the fifth year could only gape as she turned about, a glimmer of hope flickering when she paused her retreat for a moment. Maybe this was all a big joke, right? She was just messing with him? He took a hesitant step forward, about to mutter something when Lara all but twisted the dagger in his side with a bitter vengeance. And forget about the studying. I don't need you. A lump sat somewhere in his throat as his brows furrowed and features contorted displaying a mix of pain and perplexity. “..I don’t know what you’re talking about…I don’t even know a Johanna..” Was all he could seem to say, sounding defeated and outright baffled. Like it mattered. He wasn’t tuned into the rumor mill, not in the slightest, thus the tales of his apparently fertile exploits evaded him leaving Beau at quite a loss, tired fingers found the hair at the back of his neck when suddenly the timer for his homework went off and caused him to jump a few inches off the ground. He swiveled instantly; somewhat glad for the distraction and excuse to turn sad blue puppy eyes away from Lara in order to hurry over to the window sill to flick off the heated lamp, and retrieve his newly grown plant. ||

Auron shrugged and the fery edges of this lips caught upwards, "I mighten' ave thrown a fit too, were it me under tinks on displey." he joked, mirroring her small echo of a smile. Then she mentioned the infirmary, and worse, his 'friend' Walsh. The quiet awkward grin died on his face, and he looked like someone had just caught him kicking a puppy and dis'ing its momma. He licked his lips, and his opposing colored eyes turned to look away from her face in shame. "Aye. He uh... he was really drunk." He made excuses for him. Auron wanted so despiritly for it to have been an accident, or lapse in judgement, eventhough it was just a brutal taking out of aggression after having his own ass kicked by Walsh. "Tey uh..." He swallowed, looking towards the woods, and the track not far off. "Tey found me overthere. In the clearing. on Sundey. Um... Broke me face up pretty gud. Cracked me ribs. Threw out me shoulder. Left..." As he spoke, he seemed to get angrier, and more hurt sounding, like it was not the beating itself that was bad, but the betrayl of it. Sure, Walsh was his bully, but he also somewhat toted the kid around, and actually gave him social interaction. He took the occasional dead arm or tease for that. But not his life, which he nearly gave twice, "-Left me there overnight, and teh day and night again..." His voice waivered slightly, and he took a moment to compose himself, but seemed to need to speak, and get out the terribleness of it, "And after tey found me, I got patched up and put out on teh field for capture teh flag game. My team lost. And Walsh musta saw me playin', cause he caught me afterwards. Was afraid I would snitch teh Meth Lab, and how he beat me. I wouldn't, but he wanted teh make sure. Then everything got soo bad so fast. There was snow, and Walsh was just-" His words flew by, and he seemed to be trying to catch his breath, his smaller frame sucking in air, "- He lost his mind or sometin'. He almost killed a girl. Hit a teacher. I- I had to do something. I remember jumping on his back... But- I--I---" He seemed to realize he was going on and on, and he looked up at her, as if he was sprised she was there and listening to his confession. He exhaled the breath that seemed stuck in his lungs that ached terribly. One hand moved to wrap around him, self-hugging his sides. "I'm sorry. I din'ne mean to spill that on ye. Its what I meant by bad week..." He said, leaning against the pole on the dock, afraid he might pass out as he tried to slowly draw air in and out, his eyes then returning to her face, filled and wracked with guilt, both for how he had hurt Walsh, and how he had just mouth dumped all his crap on her.

[Emmelia] Emma colored at his comment. “Yeah…” She said, looking around, shameful grin on her face as her eyes fell upon this strange boy again. “That was… not ideal…” Her own words drained friendliness from the boys’ eyes and suddenly he was venting to her, telling her of his nightmare of a week like she wasn’t even there. Emma froze, considering the boys’ story and the conflictions he spoke of with slight discomfort. No one came to her for advice or to tell them of their remorse. Most people didn’t speak to her at all. The fact that, suddenly, this boy seemed incapable of stopping made the word suddenly really loud, as though it had been muted before. Finally, when he glanced up at her, an apology in two-toned eyes, she sucked in a breath and exhaled softly. “One hell of a week, that.” She remarked, nodding. “I’m sorry.” Her words tried to give the boy comfort, but they sounded hesitant of stepping on unknown ground.

Auron had regained his breath, the sound of sucking in air lessned and he knew he had probably just terribly embarresed not only himself, but made her feel horribly uncomfortable. He nodded about it being one hell of a week. Then suprise somewhat leaked into his expression. He wanted to ask her what she had just said, but he didnt. No one had ever shown him that level of comfort before. He did something a bit odd. He started to chuckle slightly, which hurt his ribs, "Well, I 'ave a way with words, now don't I..." He said, the chuckle of embarassment growing a bit before he quieted again, and it seemed to lift the cloud of tension that he had blanketed down with his rant, "I really am sorry. I din'ne mean to lay that all on ye. I-I'm Auron." He introduced himself, seeming to have a weight lifted, getting that all off his chest, and not being backhanded or chidded for it.

[Emmelia] He glanced up at her, a fleeting expression of embarrassment on his features. Emma couldn’t blame him, though he had obviously needed to get the worst of that out. She tried for an encouraging look, raising the brows ever so slightly, the mouth curving. “It’s .. not a problem. Right place at the right time, huh?” Finally, the youth offered her a name, looking more relaxed than the first moment he had locked eyes on her. “Emma.” She told him, thinking maybe if he didn’t know already, the name Emmelia would have surely caught him on to the word that went on about her throughout the school. “So…” She said, glancing around. “What are you doing out here, all alone, if your week has been such a shit cluster of violence?”

Auron heard her name, andit fit her face well. She looked like a Emma, or an affectionate Emmy. He nodded, and then looked over his shoulder at the water, "I 'ave no where better ta be, and I needed some time to think. Are you a mage, Emma?" He said, guessing, and trying not to sound like he was interrogating, or prying, "...And ye'self? Why out here alone?" He said, leaning on the dock pole as he chatted with her, seeming to be much more relaxed, now knowing that she was not going to try and kill him in some horrific and bloody way.