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That is, until someone dropped into the seat next to her, their legs nudging hers as they stretched out under the table. "How's Josie, where's the pussycats? Almost time for that pesky baptism thing."
She looked up, already pushing down the burst of annoyance that flared to life. It stopped dead in her throat, disappearing just as quickly when she saw who her newfound companion was. "Bones, good morning," she greeted, slipping a bookmark between the book's pages and carefully flipping it closed. "Have you had breakfast?"
The answer to her question came in the form of a pastry being stolen from her plate. Bellamy chirped once, his estimation of a laugh, before joining Bones in his thievery. Josie glanced from boy to stoat, exasperated.
"You’re not nervous are you? Little hint, make sure you’ve got your baptismal name sorted beforehand," Bones advised, to which Josie responded with a haughty sniff, although she was only joking.
"Of course, do I look like the type to start glancing around in a panic and land on the first name that pops into my mind? You're lucky you looked up into the sky and not down to see a bug," she teased, reaching over to poke Bones's cheek with one well-manicured fingernail. "And that pesky baptism is only the single initiation ceremony we have into the Dark Lord's community."
She took another blueberry danish from the plate, the last piece that hadn't yet been claimed by anyone, biting delicately down. The sugary pastry exploded in her mouth, and she took the momentary distraction to consider that maybe she didn't need to sign her name away to be accepted for who she was—a capable, clever witch.
Another moment, and she banished the thought quickly. Of course she had to do it. It was everything she'd been preparing for, and she had to do it. Everyone had their moments of doubt before their Baptism, and that was fine. As long as she went through with the ritual, everything would be fine. The Dark Lord had all but promised it.
"And how has your morning been so far?" Josie turned her attention upon Bones, taking in his all-black visage, the way he usually was. A raven among the doves. "Have any productive plans for the day?"
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"They still got that Spanish bar where they sacrificed that witch?"
The question caught Rian off guard. He wasn't in the habit of going down to bars, much less knowing their history, but then again it seemed like a question that had been asked in the spirit of seeming friendly; not a real enquiry. Maybe he should attempt to be friendly back. He searched for an appropriate answer.
"I suppose so," the best response he could come up with, delivered in the usual low tone. The answer seemed to satisfy Isaac, who offered him a nod, sweeping out of the room again. "Enjoy offering yourself to the Dark Lord."
Rian stared after Isaac's retreating back, and then at the wood grain of the door as it slammed shut behind his roommate. "...Thank you," he finally said, although no one was around to hear it now.
He took some time longer to make himself presentable, and then, like Isaac before him, swept out of the room without a second glance (although he closed the door much more gently), ducking around the corner and down to the main school building like a shadow in search of some breakfast.