Snippet #2594582

Daylight was on its deathbed when Hale strolled back into view. The academy glowed in the impending doom of Ceremony and its chosen evening. From seven PM forward, the night was held by the event. Nightfall would belong to the academy, just for those mere hours of darkness. Robichaux would cloak itself in an imperative and winsome shield, Cordelia would merely twist her wrist and crane a few fingers to make it so. Then, no one would make it in. And no one would get out.

His pout lips emitted smoke that crawled into the upper atmosphere to escape him. This was part of his plan, as he was already dressed for Ceremony with only five or so minutes left before the so called rite began. He’d hate to show up stinking of menthol, politely dapping kisses on hands and cheeks only to leave a lingering stain of tobacco. There was pep in his stride, nothing new there. There was a small flask in the pocket of his slim fit slacks, again, nothing new. A pressed crew neck sweater was pulled over his torso as he made it to the entrance, thinnest fabric possible, mind you. He liked to preserve a certain clean image for Ceremony, and Ceremony only. All that could be seen of his body illustration was a small trace of black cursive on his neck. The slicked back style of his hair paved the way for an open presentation of his pointed nose and azure eyes. He’d apparently scurried off to a barber during his mysterious outing, as well. The flesh of his face was even and smooth, glistening a bit and giving a faint aroma of sandalwood and cedar.

The tip of his nose quirked after discarding his cigarette. Something smelt strange. The unforgiving ‘tick tock’ of a looming tower clock inside shook Hale’s brain. Never mind it, for now. With a shrug, he chalked it up to the busy kitchen and beauty soaking and scrubs performed by the female witches of the household. By the time he’d reached the kitchen, mostly everything was cleaned and already put on the dining room table. Kyle passed nearby, surely busy as usual, eager with the promise of new students and an exciting evening. Perhaps Hale would take it upon himself to ensure everyone was on time?

Hale scuttled happily toward the main dorming floor, throwing his head back to catch a launched mint on his tongue. As he rounded the initial landing, he found himself glancing along the stairwell, grasping a ceramic knob at the peak of the polished banister. Ardently he shook his head, straightened his sweater, swallowed the mint and grinned. He marched on up, calling out, “Students! Stuuuu-uuuu-deeent-sss!” The hall was quiet, but immersed in the smell of various herbs and minerals, clogged to the brim with perfumes. This was something the women typically did. Even if they showed up in a black paper bag, they still felt the need to drench their bodies in fragrance and more often than not, home made soaps from Cordelia. Which, to be honest, Hale couldn’t blame them for. The woman was extraordinary with her concoctions and plants.

He followed the pungent scents until losing ‘sight’ so to speak, and strictly following his nose until it caught him grabbing an unfamiliar frame by the shoulders. “Oh, dear, sorry ‘bout that…” Hale stepped back, pressing his large hands to his sweater, blue inspection meeting the new student he hardly got to speak to earlier in the afternoon. But it seemed the young man was preoccupied with his own thoughts, nearly not acknowledging that Hale had plowed him over. In silence the two gathered themselves, stepping aside almost harmoniously, one looking down and perhaps berating themselves for ungentlemanly ways, while the other stole a glance into the open doorway, unprepared for what would meet him next.

The clean limbed shadow snuck into the hall while its host stood just a few feet away. Her body smelt of lavender and looked of dainty china. The shape of her body - oh. No. No, no, no. “Hmm!” Hale burst out loud, spinning abruptly to face Silas head on and distract himself. “To be perfectly honest I - I would apologize, either to her, or you… But eh, ahem…” He cleared his throat, raking fingers through his dark hair, “She does this quite often she, um… Is apparently exceedingly… Liberal… About…” Suddenly he coughed, lightly pressing a hand to Silas’ back and escorting him away, “The bare… Anatomy?” Hale stole a look at Silas’ reddened face, his distressed wide eyes. He felt his sides splitting as he unraveled into hysterics, “You are in for quite the journey, my friend.” Avidly he waved a hand in front of him, as if trying to sweep away oncoming fits of laughter.

“If you are disturbed by that, you may want to request a room change. Though, it may not help. She’s not limited to bedroom strolls. She also fancies herself a midnight sandwich or two in the nude.” His nose wrinkled, “Yes, so imagine what you are feeling, tenfold. And then having her face you and shrug, dissecting the contents of her snack, and asking what the big deal is. Well of course, the big deal is manners! But we learn here, more than anywhere else, women… May be the rulers.” Hale’s mouth puckered, and he burst into another fit of laughter as he disappeared down the stairwell, leaving a flustered and panicked new student in his wake.

“Mister McDermott!” He called out, loud enough that the entire school would hear, “It would do you well not to be late for Ceremony, even if you are attempting to repair your phone!” A bizarre and playful chortle erupted from the tall Council scout as he made his way to the dining room.