Vance Abernathy ā Arietem House
The truth about Nevaeh. Heād have his measure of Fletcher yet. It would be interesting to watch what the boy did with the information Vance had promised. A part-truth was what he planned to deliver, and if the Ferre had even a shred of the conscience that he demonized others for lacking, he wouldnāt breathe a word of it. Perhaps heād even take pity on Vance. A year ago, the very thought would have brought the taste of bile to his mouth, but nowā¦ now he needed every tool at his disposal. If he were capable of trust he might have taken a far more direct route in all this, but trust was a luxury that not even all the gold in the Abernathy vaults could buy him.
His eyebrows lifted slightly when Felix added a vague secondary term, but he hardly cared. The champion of the meek could easily have asked for more, and Vance would gladly have complied. Not playing Quodpot, pretending to care about the weak links scampering about the school, doing his damn homework; all of it came secondary to survival, which was only primary until he could get his revenge.
Heād been watching him all the while. He might not have been as predictive as heād liked, but heād achieved more or less the effect heād desired. Fletcher was questioning his motives, then questioning his own questioning, and likely even questioning that as well. Vanceās unfailing commitment to the arrangement was truly shown when Felix slung an arm over his shoulders. Unlike mention of his sister, that little bit of incendiary failed to find any tinder.
He listened to the logistics. Was it some sort of trap? A clandestine meeting, alone? And why in the world would a dog be involved? Heād slowly chew on that for the remainder of the evening, ultimately deciding that it would be worth the risk. In the very least, if Fletcher was somehow a part of the conspiracy, heād likely not expect Vance to be more than ready to use lethal force if need be. I already did once, he couldnāt help but think, and his stomach lurched. He found himself thankful that he hadnāt eaten too much.
As Felix walked off, he conjured a characteristic smirk and raised his gloved hand to lightly brush at his shoulders, as if the Ferre had left some tangible residue on his robes that needed to be returned. He smiled icily as he was given the finger, and then Felix was off. Statue of the dog, midnight. Now to see to the rest of it. A few Ferre students who were still feasting were sort of staring, likely freaked out by the fact that Vance and Felix somehow hadnāt come to blows after a conversation. A practiced baleful stare, approximately two seconds worth for each of the two boys and one girl, was enough to have them looking dutifully at their plates.
Clasping his hands behind his back once more, he strode off, his strides as long and full of purpose as ever. Fletcher was heading toward his table, which meant that heād have to touch bases more definitively with Zachariah later, and Leeā¦
ā¦ where was Lee? The smitten Beauregard was one of the few he trusted to watch his back, if only because he was so literally invested in āwatching his backā. You can take the Beauregard out of the swamp, he remembered his father saying once, But good luck taking the swamp out of the Beauregard.ā More than likely he was off in the midst of some torrid interlude, something which Vance would spare no more thought than that. He hardly cared about the boyās proclivities, only how vocal and crass he could be in satisfying them.
As he passed the table, he made sure to catch Zachariahās eye, and offered an all but imperceptible nod as well.
A thought crossed his mind; more an image that heād not deigned to process that suddenly had meaning. Quite uncharacteristically, he paused in place and glanced over his shoulder, taking a quick survey of the Vulpes table. The bulk of the schoolās magical talent was concentrated in that House, and one in particularā¦ but she wasnāt there. No matter. Heād find her when he was more sure of things.
It dawned on him that heād simply been standing in place for several seconds, thinking. Alertness flooded his eyes once more, honing his gaze into something sharp and formidable, and he resumed his stride, headed for the Arietem common room.
Lyle Brightham ā Ferre House
When the conversation finally tapered off a bit and Lyle was nice and full, it occurred to him that he hadnāt seen Naire yet, or Lloyd. He got up out of his seat as if someone had threatened to set him on fire, all flustered and grabbing at his bag and laughing. āYeah, Iāll see you lot back at the common room, ā was how he excused himself before, hugging his backpack to his chest, he scampered off at full tilt, piping a quick āSorry!ā to a seventh year girl who was forced to sidestep to avoid the bundle of energy that was Lyle.
He charged up to the Vulpes table, skidding to a stop to seek out his best friend. He rocked on his heels, eyes darting about. Where was he? Probably outside, but there was a lot of outside that he could have gone to. He did find a few fellow fifth years and flashed them an antsy smile. āHey, did anyone see where Naire went? Did he say where he was going?ā The questions were fired off one after another, a barrage of the rapid patter that passed for speech from Lyle. Heads were shaken, and he sighed exasperatedly but said āThanks anyway!ā before wheeling off and skittering out of the hall. He looked over the Arietem table, too, but Gwen was gone already, probably off with her girlfriends or some guy or something.
* * *
He stopped off at his room to stow his bag and pick up Skip and Scamp. The ferrets were no longer allowed at meals after an incident the year before. Much like their owner, they had a tendency toward excitement, and wellā¦ the ferrets simply werenāt allowed anymore.
He opened the large cage they were cooped up in and thrust his arms in. In a flash, the creatures scurried up either sleeve of his robes, and Lyle wound up bursting into ticklish laughter as the climbed up his body to pop out his collar and take up perches on his shoulders; Skip, a soft gray, on the right, and Scamp, a healthy brown, on the left. He grabbed a notepad and a quill and set off in search of his friends.
He burst out of one of the castleās many exits at a dead run, stopping briefly to catch his breath and get the lay of the land. He tilted his head a bit, listening, and would have sworn he heard soft strains of music in the distance. It took him a moment to get a sense of where it was coming from, and a grin slowly blossomed on his lips, followed by a pinkening of his cheeks as he bolted off toward the sound of a violin being skillfully played.
He slowed down once he caught sight of Lloyd perched on a large rock. He didnāt want to scare her, or interrupt her, or anything like that. He was still beaming as he approached, lifting an arm to flap it in an exaggerated wave (the ferrets were used to such actions, and scampered about on his body to stay put) to her. He just stood there, grinning idiotically, and waited for her to finish up. Of course, if it took toooo long heād start getting fidgety, but even his feisty ferrets seemed to have calmed down to listen to Lloyd play.