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Victor Calza

"If they don't know the first thing about your plans, how can they stop them?"

0 · 632 views · located in Magus Grex School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

a character in “Magus Grex School of Witchcraft and Wizardry”, originally authored by AugustArria, as played by RolePlayGateway


Victor Calza


Basic Info

Name: Victor Calza
Age: 17, Seventh Year
Gender: Male
House: Vulpes
Pet: A dark, Great Horned Owl named Tarvixio. The bird has a quiet, proud, superior attitude. He's just as cunning as Victor is, and he rarely bothers to pay attention to anyone other than his owner.
Birthplace: Worcester, Massachusetts
Patronus: A Kraken. Sort of like a giant squid/octopus. Only it's about as tall as he is.

  • Intelligence
  • Subtlety
  • Loyalty to family
  • Control
  • His old Muggle books (He's taken a liking to Machiavelli's work.)

  • Stupidity and Incompetence
  • Those who can't shut up.
  • Idealism
  • Quodpot
  • Toads



Victor is typically a calm, quiet, serious person. He's not shy in the slightest, he just doesn't open his mouth unless he feels he has something worthwhile to say. He does have a sense of humor, but it tends to come out slightly acidic. Victor is almost hyper-intelligent, certainly the reason for his placement in Vulpes House. His family has seen members enter all the four Houses at Magus Grex, although more have gone to Arietem than the others, and very few end up at Cervus. The importance of being a member of the long line of Calzas was stressed on Victor from a very early age, by everyone around him. As a result, Victor is extremely loyal to his family, and he respects others who go to great efforts to aid theirs. Even though his family is pureblooded as far back as it can be traced, Victor doesn't view half-bloods or even the Muggleborn in a negative light. Not many in his family feel this way, but Victor feels that one is a fool to turn away a potential advantage based on one's blood alone. You won't hear the word "Mudblood" from his lips. He even studies the work of some Muggles, mainly Machiavelli. He keeps these books more or less hidden, though, as he doesn't wish to receive the negative attention for being a "Muggle lover" or something.

In his last three years, Victor has changed a good deal. Unlike many of the people at Magus Grex, he chooses to concern himself with what lies ahead for him. He cares little for things like Quodpot, and the rivalries between houses, things he used to pay much more attention to. Now in his last year, Victor seeks only to prepare himself for what lies ahead. He ravenously devours knowledge presented to him in his classes, regardless of subject, and few are as good of students. He turns away nothing that can be turned to his advantage. The Dark Arts included. His family has something of a dark history, and though Victor has not yet involved himself too heavily in such practices, he remains open-minded to them. Victor has little regard for the rules at Magus Grex, should they get in his way, but he understands the value of subtlety. He doesn't overstep his bounds without a reason to do so, and when he does, he doesn't broadcast it to the world like some of the prank-loving students he knows.

As far as relationships go, Victor searches for allies before he searches for companions. He doesn't really need someone he can dump his feelings on, but rather someone that's just as smart as he is, and willing to work with towards a mutual gain. He is attracted to intelligence, cunning, deceptiveness, and subtlety. His is put off by arrogance, stupidity, frivolousness, loudness, and idealism. And toads, he hates toads. He's got nothing against the people who own them, he just doesn't like toads.


The Kraken, sigil of the Calza family.

The Calzas go back a long, long way. They can clearly trace their ancestry back to nobility of the Venetian Republic, in the Medieval Ages. It goes back further still, but the record keeping starts to get poor. The point is that the Calza family has always been powerful, and has always been pure. There were rumors of a Squib in the family somewhere around the seventeenth century, but the family denies the claim. The man in question disappeared shortly into his twenties, and can't be found in any records. The Calzas were masters of the sea, and accrued masses of wealth through the sea trade and shipping business. They were not afraid to meddle in Muggle affairs if it meant greater wealth, and varying accounts site Calzas being partially responsible for the sack of Constantinople, and the failed fourth Crusade. In short, the Calzas are one of the longest and most prestigious lines in the wizarding world.

Victor himself was born in Worcester, Massachusetts. The Calzas developed a very strong influence throughout much of the northeast, having established themselves there during the colonies era before the American Revolution. They have many, many friends among wizarding families, and very few enemies, as those who wish to oppose them are either too scared or too weak to do so. Victor grew up as the middle child in a privileged family, with a brother, Tomas, 3 years his elder, and a sister, Luca, seven years his junior. Victor initially had a poor relationship with his brother, who viewed him as immature and naive, but as Victor aged, he came to understand and eventually embrace his brother's ideals, and the two became closer. The age difference between Victor and his sister was a hindrance to their relationship, but Victor became quite protective of her. Tomas was a powerhouse within Arietem house, having most of the students there dancing to his tune by his fifth year, but two years have gone by since he left, and much of his influence in Magus Grex disappeared with it.

Victor was never the natural leader his older brother was, who could bend people to his will through speech and force alone. Instead, Victor excelled in such skills as subtlety, cunning, deceptiveness, and sheer intelligence. Few students could boast the kinds of marks Victor achieved his first six years at Magus Grex, and few students knew the school as well. Victor prided himself on knowing literally everything that was worth knowing, and using it to his advantage. It paid off, in a sense, in the summer before his final year at Magus Grex. His father approached him with a request, saying that it was time he began contributing to the family in a more real sense. He was asked to gather information on the Sanuto family, a line just as pure as the Calzas, albeit not as old. Occasional Calza shipments, valuable ones, would go missing, with little to no explanation. Victor's father suspected foul play, and wanted to put his son's intelligence and resourcefulness to the test. The Sanutos had a history of practicing the Dark Arts (as did the Calzas), so Victor suspected something sinister was at play here.

Long story short, Victor managed to acquire proof that the eldest of the four Sanuto daughters had been organizing thefts of specific Calza shipments, ones containing ingredients involved in the creation of powerful (and some illegal) potions. The deed involved a large amount of planning, and then personally sneaking into the Sanuto mansion in upstate New York, with a highly skilled application of charms, hexes, distractions, and stealth. It implied not only that the Sanutos were up to something dark, but that his own family was as well. He returned the evidence to his father, and his brother Tomas left the next day. Days after he returned, the Sanuto girl was reported missing. Victor questioned his father, his brother, and his mother who the shipments had been meant for, but they all gave him the same answer: some secrets were safer not to know.

Victor now enters his seventh and final year of school at Magus Grex, uncertain of his family's intention. But he knows it's something dark. However, Victor knows where his loyalties lie, and he knows he's ready to contribute, whatever that means. His goal at school is to acquire all the knowledge he can, to better prepare himself for the future, and to finally determine who he wants standing at his side moving forward, and who needs to simply get out of his way.


Do you know much about the Harry Potter Universe?: As much as all the books and all the movies could teach me.
How often do you get online?: Every. Freakin. Day.
How often can we expect you to be able to post?: See above.
Password: Coppah Cahldrun.

So begins...

Victor Calza's Story

Victor Calza

It came as no surprise to Victor that he hadn't been able to sleep.

His mind had been at work, churning, producing new angles, devouring them instantly, processing, analyzing. He'd lain in bed for perhaps an hour...two? Just staring at the ceiling, staring out the window, listening to nothingness. Eventually he decided to rise, slip into some comfortable clothes, and go for a walk. There would be no sleep tonight, he knew. Might as well get reacquainted with old Magus Grex.

He'd missed the opening speech and the feast, and whatever other festivities had occurred last night. Not that it mattered. He could recite Rockwell's speech back to the old man from memory. And he probably could have told anyone what happened after that. Students gorged themselves. The quodpot jocks pounded their chests and the girls with yawning cavities in their skulls swooned at them. Pollack probably tried to keep everyone in line. Hardy and Flint undoubtedly tried to pull some stunt. The elder Turner girl secured herself a new boy toy. And surely Beauregard once again demonstrated his complete inability to do anything remotely subtle. Victor knew the story. Even if all the rumors, the beliefs spread by word of mouth, even if they were all nausea inducing to him, he still heard them, still recorded them and stored them away. There was very little that couldn't be used to an advantage, if one was aware enough to notice the opportunities. And occasionally, a rumor would float by that actually caught his attention. Like what his father had mentioned to his mother in passing two nights ago. Something about Nevaeh Abernathy going to Beauxbatons this year.

Beauxbatons. Very curious. He wouldn't have guessed it, not with the way Nevaeh had ruled Arietem House the past few years. Who would fill her place, and command the hordes of adoring, ambitious little witches? Barsotti? Venator? That preachy, do-no-harm little Şentürk? Victor's bet would have been on Priscilla. She had a combination of ambition, charisma, and sheer strength that surpassed the others, in his opinion. Though she'd never rule as unanimously as Nevaeh Abernathy, which brought him back to the line of thought that her transfer to Beauxbatons was very curious. He'd always steered clear of Nevaeh, more out of respect than fear. The Abernathy girl was a little too public with her power for Victor's taste. But now that she was gone... he was interested in hearing what Vance had to say about it.

And there his mind went again. The Abernathy rumor hadn't even been the reason for his sleepless night, but rather issues within his own family. His father had requested he deliver a sealed message to the Valaras, at their manor. Across the state. On the very same day he was to depart for his final year at Magus Grex. Of course Victor had been displeased with his father, but requests from Drakus Calza were not turned down lightly, least of all by Victor. He suspected his father thought he lacked ambition. Lacked the necessary drive to help his family. It probably had something to do with his placement in Vulpes House. He didn't doubt his son's abilities, or his intelligence, only his commitment. Victor aimed to put those fears to rest, whatever that meant.

So he'd delivered the letter, and whatever it entailed, to the Valara Manor. The Valaras had always been close friends and allies to the Calzas, and Victor was welcomed warmly, but he hadn't been able to stay, as he was of course now going to miss the boat. Hours later, he found himself being transported across to the island by that reeking oaf Herve Wicks. After unceremoniously dumping his things in his quarters, and assuring the good caretaker that he'd go straight to bed, Victor proceeded to remain awake, and ponder his future.

He found himself now wandering in the direction of the Great Hall, one silent footstep after another. Victor had long since become adept at moving silently, even without the help of magic. He was a quiet person in more ways than the obvious. Power, plans, control, ideas, information, these were all things that were not meant to be shouted to the world. They lost much of their value that way. No enterprise is more likely to succeed than one concealed from the enemy until it is ripe for execution, said a wise man who Victor had studied thoroughly.

Something caught his eye in the Great Hall. Movement. A head looking up towards the heavens, and then back down to record. Victor found his lips curling into a genuine smile. There was only one person that could be, at this hour. He wasn't sure if Teiver saw him enter, or if she was just ignoring him. It crossed his mind that she could be angry with him for not being around the castle last night, leaving her to deal with all the idiots by her lonesome. Garrison certainly saw him. The cat was a sharp one. Still, he made his way quietly over to her, sat down on the bench, and gazed up at the stars. It was really quite gorgeous. He'd never really payed attention to Astronomy any more than was necessary before he met Teiver, but now he had to admit it was one of his favorite subjects. She'd opened his eyes to quite a few things, in fact.

"So I was thinking about trying out for the Quodpot team this year," he said, calmly and quietly as he always did, but with the slightest hint of a smirk.

#, as written by Skwidge
Teiver Morn

Teiver was so engaged with what she was doing, she didn't hear Victor coming in. It wasn't until he sat down next to her that she realized he was there. A soft half-smile, half-smirk played her lips, until his voice came out softly with, "So I was thinking about trying out for the Quodpot team this year." She had just taken a sip of water until he finished his sentence, and she almost did a double take.

She chuckled into her hand, a wicked smile on her features now. "Yeah, right. When Herve casts a decent spell." Teiver turned to look at him, setting down the glass before turning back up to the mimicked sky. "I'm working on star patterns for this month. Some of the corridors change with the shifting of each constellation, and some disappear and appear at different times of the month, day, year, etc. I'm still trying to discern whether or not it's with the actual sky, or if it's the constellations in the Great Hall."

She turned back to her charts, tracing some of the pointed stars, placing her pencil under her lip in thought, flashing Garrison the smallest of smiles. "I couldn't even do things properly last night," Teiver placed her chin in her palm, an exasperated look to her figure. "Finn decided to join me last night, almost got me caught by Herve, now he knows something's up, and he kinda freaked me out with how he acted. I mean, it's like he didn't trust me. Me of all people!" She joked, knowing full well how devious she was. "He always had his hand in his pocket, which was obviously where he kept his wand."

The girl set down her pencil, collecting the papers and placing them back in her satchel. It was about that time when a few more students would be waking up, and she had been at her work for awhile now. "So what's up with you, where'd you disappear to last night? I don't remember seeing you in the Great Hall as of the first day."

Lloyd Vrancing

Lloyd stretched with a small feminine grunt, getting up and shuffling quietly over to the table at the foot of her bed. She grabbed the clothes she had set out previously, putting on the dark khaki shorts as well as a white button up shirt with a collar and an epic pocket with the Ferre House symbol on it. She had had her friend do it for her over the summer. She looked out the window to see what time it was, and noted that it was still fairly early.

After lacing up her sandals, she picked up her violin case and walked towards the door, Dorremoon following after her somewhere in between. With eyes half closed, Lloyd descended the steps of the Common Tower. She had a sleepy smile on her face, contently carrying her case without a thought to yesterday. She entered the Great Hall, realizing that there were only so many students up and about.

She scanned the Hall to see if she recognized any faces, and she did, of course, but sat down quietly at her own table. A bowl of bacon and cream of wheat appeared before her, as well as a glass of orange juice. She smiled exuberantly, quickly wolfing down the food and drink, her violin case settled beside her, and Dorremoon underneath her.

Once she finished, she immediately hopped up, tangling her legs a bit from the awkward positioning of bench and table, but reorganized herself, grabbing her violin case once more and dashed out of the Hall with a huge smile on her face, Dorremoon following closely behind her.

Lloyd burst through the doors to the outside, quickly opening up her case and taking out her violin and bow. She held the instrument by the longer length at the tip, bow right next to it, and open case in her other hand as she went to go practice and wake herself up. She settled for a space right underneath a huge oak tree, and put the violin up to her chin. She was still pretty close to the castle, but of course she'd need be. Lloyd couldn't miss classes just to go find a new practicing place.

She placed the bow on top of the strings, and did a customary practice swipe. With another sweet smile, she began her music carefully. It was supposed to be a guitar song, but she had gotten the sheet music for the violin, and instead hummed the guitar part, the actual lyrics being only played in her head for now. That bright smile never left her face, and she eagerly played the notes, closing her eyes.

Dorremoon lounged beside her, the cat's eyes closed and ears just slightly bent backwards with paws outstretched on the grass. A purr rumbled through her vocals as she listened.

Victor Calza

He couldn't help but grin at the stupid quodpot introduction he'd made, as well as the suggestion Teiver had fired back. Him trying out was indeed about as likely as Herve casting a decent spell. There had been a time, perhaps four years ago or more, when Victor would have jumped at the chance to play for Vulpes House on the Quodpot team. But he'd always been too small back then, and his subtlety and typically impenetrable calm demeanor were not things that were rewarded well on the pitch. By the time he grew into himself fully, as he had the past two years, he no longer valued the sport as he once had. There were far more valuable things to concern himself with than the rivalries of the houses and the outcomes on the Quodpot pitch.

Victor gazed up at the sky in the Great Hall as Teiver explained the work she'd been doing. To be honest, Victor had not really considered the potential importance the ceiling in here could have. As each year went by, he was convinced Teiver had a much deeper understanding of the castle than he'd ever get. It was just one of the reasons he found spending time around her so enjoyable. She had such a way of opening his eyes to things he had overlooked, or written off. In essence, she had the ability to make him feel less intelligent. She taught him things he'd never thought to learn, and he had to admit, it was times like this when he found her particularly attrac--

Particularly valuable as a friend. Yes. That's what he had meant.

Then he heard a string of words he found particularly displeasing. Finn joined her last night. Almost got her caught. By Herve. Freaked her out. Had his hand in his pocket. Obviously where he kept his wand. Victor had stopped looking at the stars, but instead turned his gaze at Teiver, his concern perhaps a little more visible than he would have preferred. Pollack represented pretty much everything Victor simply couldn't respect. And here he was nearly getting Victor's closest friend caught on the first night. He found himself gritting his teeth in frustration, wishing he could have been around last night, wishing his father hadn't sent him off as some kind of delivery boy.

It crossed his mind that he was feeling awfully protective over Teiver, but he dismissed the thought. She was a friend; of course he would look out for what was in her best interest. And Pollack didn't fit into that picture, that he knew. Before he could voice his concern, however, she had turned the tables on him, prodding him for information about where he was last night. Certainly understandable that she'd want some kind of answer, as he hadn't made a habit of missing opening feasts, even if he did find them a little dull, and even if the majority of the people around him had him feeling nauseous by the time he was done eating his meal.

"Father had a request for me," he said, a subtle hint of weariness in his voice, "it kept me from making the boat on time. I only arrived a few hours ago, in fact. Never went to bed."

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Victor had been known to stay up long after Teiver was through sneaking about after curfew. It wasn't insomnia, really, but there were often nights when Victor simply couldn't help but think about whatever crossed his mind, and it kept him from falling asleep, or even feeling tired, really. He'd grown accustomed to it. Though by midday today he'd likely be feeling the effects. Perhaps because there had been an added dose of stress in this particular sleepless night.

"Pollack didn't do anything stupid, did he?" he asked, not feeling much like talking about his family at the moment. "Stupid for him, I mean. And... surely he'll try to follow you again. Especially if he suspects something of you, but doesn't know what. I could talk to him. Get him to lay off."

Talking to Pollack would probably just make him more suspicious, and more eager to investigate, and sniff out the despicable rule-breakers, but Victor was feeling particularly annoyed by the Ferre's actions. And the last thing he wanted to see was Teiver getting punished because Pollack couldn't handle a few students doing the occasional nighttime excursion. Teiver meant a lot to him and--well, she was a very valuable friend.

Dammit, he had to stop doing that. He blamed it on the lack of sleep.

Vin Magaly

The chill salt water sluiced off of Vin's face as he came up from another dive under a wave, his surfboard stabilized beneath him by his hands. Breathing in deeply through his nose, he pushed himself into a sitting position, one leg over either side of the board. Rubbing his face, he let his hands push up and through his hair, slicking it back in the way his mom always told him looked "so handsome!" Smiling he closed his eyes and stretched, soaking in the warmth of the sun as it was beginning to rise. Here is where he felt the most at home. In the waves, with nothing to do and no one to bother him. Keeping his eyes closed, he let his hands drop to swirl the water with his finger tips just slightly.

A swell rolled under him and he let the current lift him a tiny bit and bring him back down. A small but lovingly soft smile crossed his face. That was the ocean: his beautiful love. A fickle beast, she had the power to kill and did more often than many people knew or chose to know, but Vin knew her softer side. The side that sweetly caressed you and held you up, even when you felt as though you were falling. He'd gone "over the falls" more times than could be counted by even an army of mathematicians, but he kept coming back for more.

The next swell he felt more than heard or saw. He felt the current as it pulled away from the beach, swishing him out to sea momentarily. She was preparing to strike and he was ready. Sighing, he knew he'd have to head in soon if he didn't want to miss breakfast. Opening his eyes he saw the swell headed towards him. It would be a good end to his early morning rides. He settled onto his chest again, pulling his legs up onto the board he used his arms to turn himself back towards the shore. Just as the wave was getting near to him he began to paddle with his arms, hard, "swimming" his board toward the beach but being tugged back by the current of the infant stages of the wave. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as the swell pulled him up it's face, as the white foam began to grow while the swell reached it's crest and became a wave, crashing over itself. His heart raced a tiny bit as he waited for the moment, where you knew it was now or never, where the board felt just stable enough and the ocean was holding you strong in her delicate and powerful hands.

Now! In one smooth motion, Vin stopped swimming and used his hands to help push himself into a crouched position on the board, then stood. He was elated as he swooped up and down the wave, choosing not to pull any tricks but just to enjoy the ride as far in towards the beach as he could. His heart hammering in excitement and exertion while the muscles in his legs maneuvered the board, the muscles in his abs held him upright and the muscles in his arms helped him to balance. He mentally thanked his body for supporting him so well, being strong and healthy and ensuring that he could do the things he loved to do. He also made sure to send out thankful vibes to whoever or whatever had chosen to bless him with a fully functional body and mind. His breath was coming quickly, the burn in his lungs reminding him that he was alive. The rush was gone all too soon as he felt the familiar upward tug of the wave beginning to close on itself, the tunnel was forming behind him. He let himself be pulled into it momentarily, dragging his fingers along the closer wall of water while enjoying the splashes of color that played through the water from the sunrise. Then, feeling with his board the current that would pull him out he shot the tunnel and rode in front of it for a bit until, finally, almost achingly, he loosened his muscles and dropped from his board into the water.

Letting the wave roll past him, he emerged and breathed in the salty air, shaking his hair out. Pulling himself onto the board, he swam it in towards the shore until he could feel that the ocean floor was close enough for him to walk on. Sliding his board under his left arm, he walked up the shore and headed South to the front doors of the school.

Myra Magaly

Myra woke with a sneeze as Kaplan's whiskers tickled her nose. He was purring and nuzzling her face, which would have been extremely pleasant if it hadn't been for those damn tickly whiskers. Pushing him away from her gently she smiled and whispered, "I'm up, pushy." Kaplan gave her a look and jumped from the bed. Trotting over to his food bowl he sat and waited patiently. She rolled her eyes. Snuggling into bed for a moment longer, she absorbed the warmth of her blankets one last time before sighing quietly and throwing them off. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she opened Kaplan's food container, scooped him some dry food, returned the scoop and locked it up again.

Once she was up, she was fully awake, so she got to work. Diligently making her bed, she grabbed her toiletries and made her way to the restroom. Quickly showering and getting ready, applying a small amount of make up and dressing in a simple floral summer dress and kitten heels. Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she approved of her outfit and hair then returned to the bedroom. Throwing her blue house robe over her arm, she grabbed her book bag and headed for the door. Turning just before she left, she blew Kaplan a kiss, "Stay out of trouble kitty cat!" With that, she quietly made her way through the Commons room. There were a few students moving about, some yawning and stretching, some sipping coffee, some studying already. Myra smiled to herself, her house's "nerd" reputation was well earned. Ducking out past Didimus, she made her way down the stairs towards the great hall.

As she was entering the hallway, something inside of her told her to stop. It was a familiar feeling, this odd out-of-body "knowing." It had been happening to her since before she could remember and there was only one other person in the world who felt it too. It was as though something was pulling her toward the front of the building. Smiling, she turned and started toward the front door of the school. Just as she was getting there, Vin walked in, sopping wet, carrying his surfboard. "Good morning!" She said brightly with an equally luminous smile.

"What up sis!" He smiled at her warmly and moved in for a hug. She backed away quickly in a smoothly serpentine move, shaking her head.

"Nope. You are soaking wet. How was the beach?"

"Bees knees sis; pure nature zen." His smile was large and relaxed, and his eyes were clear. Myra's smile mirrored his own.

"I'm glad. I'll walk you to the commons stairs." She fell in step with him as he shrugged and moved foreward. They walked in silence for a few moments. They were more comfortable with one another than with anyone else, they didn't need to fill the silence with idle, meaningless chatter. The twins were usually content to simply be in each other's presence. This time, though, Myra got the feeling that Vin had something on his mind. Then she caught Vin chewing his lip out of the corner of her eye. That, paired with the odd feeling that he had been wanting to say something but wasn't, prompted her to elbow him. "What is it?" She asked, knowingly.

"Uh... well... See, I gotta ask you a favor." He said slowly, she could tell he was piecing together his thoughts, formulating how to say what he wanted to say.

"Shoot. You know I'd do anything for you." She smiled reassuringly. Vin considered her for a minute, his eyebrows knit together slightly, then shrugged again.

"Alrighty. I told Lyle I'd ask you to help him get on the Quodpot team. Practice with him and ish. Ya dig?" Myra's smile dropped slightly as her eyes widened, Vin's closing slightly as he watched her reaction. Her mind took off, she was so shy and secretive about her Quodpot practices. How had Lyle figured out she knew how to play? She wanted to help Vin's friend out, but she could barely even choke out a 'hello' around him, much less help him with his game skills. Not to mention, what if she just made him worse? For all she knew, she wasn't good at all and their dad was just really loving and didn't want to tell her. Slowly her face morphed into a look of nervous apprehension and concern. "Look sis, calm it down. I know how you are about that stuff, but give Lyle a chance, yeah? He's really chill if he's got his mind on something. And stop thinking you're not good, Dadds wouldn't lie to yeh. Do me a solid, yeah?"

Myra looked into her "older" brother's eyes and saw the earnest question. Letting a couple of doubts fly through her head, and feeling the pounding of her heart, she finally made up her mind. Rolling her eyes at him she let out an overly-exasperated if fake sigh, "Alright, alright. But you owe me."

"You're the top, sis. Truth." He punched her arm lightly then took the stairs two at a time as the clock chimed. Shaking her head in minor disbelief, Myra decided to wait until it was time to work on actual practices before putting too much of her mind to work on the matter. Classes started in 2 hours and she wanted to get through a couple more chapters in her book before she had to make her way to a classroom. Finally making her way back into the Great Hall she looked around. Teiver and Victor were chatting at one end of the Vulpes table. She watched as Teiver's cat eyed her curiously and she nodded a greeting to it. Her stomach grumbled audibly and she was suddenly overcome by how grateful she was to have chosen the other end of the long house table to sit at. Three plates of food appeared before her, pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast, a bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar and various berries, and assorted fruits. Add with the large glass of water and a smaller glass of milk and Myra was extremely content. She would have to send a thank you to the elves for remembering just how much her slender frame could and loved to pack away, she pulled out her book and began to dig into both reading and eating.

Back to Vin real quick

Vin meandered into his room in the Ferre part of the commons tower and slid his board under his bed. After a quick shower, he put on jeans and a grey t-shirt, he threw his flip flops back on, dried his hair on a towel, and put his robe on. Plugging Mumford and Sons into his ears, he noticed the slip of paper on his bed stand just as he was leaving. Drifting over, he grabbed it and tried to discern it. Undoubtedly it was Lyle's doing, no one else in the school had handwriting that was worse than a doctor's. He could make out enough to know that Lyle seemed to be doing much better today, there was an exclamation point after all. An easy smile lit his face and he tossed the note on his bed, making his way towards the Great Hall. He caught sight of Lloyd as she left the hall and started heading towards the front doors, violin case in hand. He entered the Hall, snagged a couple pieces of toast and large glass of chocolate milk. Taking it with him, he followed her out and lounged silently against the wall of the school a respectful distance away as she played, waiting until she was done or taking a break before saying casually as he approached, "G'morning Ladylloyd. Thank you for sharing your lovely music with the world so early. That was wonderful. How's it?"

#, as written by throne
Justin Hardy – Not Quite Hung-over

Justin was going to murder whomever had decided to leave the curtains on the eastern side of the room open. An unholy shaft of sunlight was pouring into the room, practically setting a spotlight on his disheveled bed and the disheveled boy who lay upon it. Justin was something of an athletic sleeper. He tossed, he turned, he got all tangled up in the sheets and wound up more often than not throwing at least half of his pillows on the floor. He opened his eyes groggily only to be blinded and let out a few grumbled curses as he flailed for a pillow and then pulled it over his face to block out the incredibly offensive light.

He shimmied and rolled off the bed, planting his bare feet on the ground and, with the pillow still protecting him from those cheerful rays, padded to the window and yanked the curtains shut with a vengeance. Doing so triggered a hazy memory of the evening before; him, incredibly drunk on Betterbeer, mincing over to the window and drawing the curtains in order to comply with a stupid dare one of the other Vulpes boys, maybe Flint, maybe… he couldn’t remember… had issued him. He’d lowered his pajama pants enough to add a second full moon to the night sky, which had resulted in hysterical, boyish laughter from everyone, including him, so if he was going to murder anyone logic dictated that he start with himself.

”Fuck logic,” Justin mumbled, tossing the pillow back onto his bed. He’d probably overdone it last night, but… well, Flint needed a drinking buddy, and he’d somehow managed to entice their usually straight-laced house mates to join in the impromptu festivities. Not quite a party, but close enough that he actually felt a note of pride as he searched his effects for his shower flip-flops and caddy. They hadn’t even used a full vial of Betterbeer, and it looked like everyone but him would be sleeping in. He smirked, shaking his head at the sight of Flint out cold on his bed, practically drooling. He took pity on him; in lieu of, say, drawing a depiction of the male genitalia on his face using a Sharpie, he rifled through his bag for a bottle of water and some aspirin and left them on his friend’s nightstand.

He spent longer than usual in the shower. He didn’t quite have a hangover, but he wasn’t a morning person on his best day. The toxins lingering in his system were slowing him down, and he liked to embrace the illusion that a nice hot shower would somehow wash them out. There was also the matter of planning the day ahead. Not classes or anything like that; he’d breeze through those. No, he needed to sort out what he was doing to win the heart of Emerson Caulfield. The fact that he was able to think about Emerson in the shower and not get, uh, distracted, was clear evidence that his feelings for the Cervus were formidable. He needed to find Fletcher, he remembered as he lingered under the spray. Felix was critical to his… scheme? Was it a scheme? He’d definitely schemed before, and while there was a lot of planning and manipulation involved, the connotation of scheme hardly seemed to fit the situation. This was… a quest. A quest for redemption. Someday, bards would sing of it!

Probably not, but, quest had a nice ring to it anyway. Not as nefarious as scheme or as clinical as project. He had to be awake, if he was having a semantics argument with himself, so that meant it was time to get dressed and face the day.

Once he’d decked himself out in a snug, worn pair of jeans and a blue and white striped polo shirt, he haphazardly dragged his robe on, secured his wand and messenger bag, and set out. He needed breakfast, badly. Between enchanting the table service, delivering his gift to Em, and seeing to his hidey-hole, he’d barely had time to eat last night. His stomach, angry at him for the assault on its lining, rumbled furiously. Getting some food in it would help soak up the last of the booze, as well.

He pushed into the Great Hall wearing a thoughtful smirk and headed straight for the Vulpes table. A quick appraisal indicated that Victor and Teiver were chatting it up, and there was Myra, reading for a change. There were a few others scattered around the room, but Justin was apparently the vanguard for the hungry masses who didn’t get up way too early. He checked out the Cervus table for Em and the Ferre table for Felix, but apparently he’d have to make do with his house-mates for the time being.

”Morning Boris, Natasha.” He sounded a lot more falsely cheerful than he expected, given how much grogginess remained even after his shower. His salutations were of course directed at Victor and Teiver. Neither of them were at the top of Justin’s “trust-worthy people” ledger, though Teiver was more mysterious than insidious. He actually liked her, maybe even respected her a little, but unfortunately, she was friends with Calza, which meant she often wound up caught in the flak of his insults. He adopted a simply horrible Russian accent as he continued. ”How ees go-ink diabolical plan to catch moose-and-squirrel?” He actually stopped, more to be annoying than anything else, and made a show of leaning over to peer at what he knew, without bothering to actually look, to be star charts. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Victor at dinner, or in the common room after dinner. Teiver was always skulking about, so her hasty exit was no surprise, but Victor’s absence…

He’d need more information before he’d be able to engage in any worthwhile deductions. The older boy looked tired, haggard, even more so than usual. Had he even slept? Justin’s features didn’t betray his curiosity in the slightest. They were still fixed in his usual devilish smirk as he stood up straight again, bored with the pretense of checking out Teiver’s chart. Her best friend the cat was of course underfoot, and Justin gave Garrison a little mock-salute. Like most of the Vulpes, he was well-aware that Teiver actually talked to the feline, and so he tended to treat it a bit more like a person than he did an animal. Probably one of the few reasons Teiver hadn't yet taken Victor's side in the cold-war the two had been enmeshed in for the past few years.

#, as written by Skwidge
Teiver Morn

A small frown formed on her lips for a moment as he answered her question based on his disappearance. So it was his father. Again. She really didn't particularly like the subject on his parents because... well anyway, she just gave him a small nod. "Mh, say no more." Teiver flashed him an almost sympathetic smile, but she always smirked a little into it.

"Well yeah, I ended up saving both of our butts, he's not going to be particularly grateful, because he isn't- well, he's a Ferre, not a Vulpes. They don't get the concept of deeper meanings. So he's bound to go snooping around again." She had simply shrugged off the extra concern written on his face as his rivalry between himself and Finn.

"Pollack didn't do anything stupid, did he?" The girl let out a minuscule laugh. "Well, for one, he ran blindly up one of the stairs, almost ran into one of the few abandoned girl's bathrooms. Which is just such a shame. It would have been a huge laugh if it wasn't abandoned; can't you just picture it? Well anyway, two he also almost ran off the side of Magus Grex. He thought I was kidding about that one. You know there are a couple of... injuries in the castle."

Teiver brought her hands up and shook them lightly. "No, no. That's alright, I'll take care of him myself, thanks." Not to mention that's going to flare up a couple of things. She thought silently to herself, a sheepish grin on her face.

However, before she could actually start eating any food, they were interrupted by a very uncouth voice. ”Morning Boris, Natasha.” She clenched her left fist irritably. By the sound of his voice and the positioning of his eyelids, he was probably drinking last night. She forced a tiny smile onto her face, looking up at him. Her wand was right on the table in front of her.

So tempting.

With that strained, tiny smile, Teiver picked up her wand leisurely. "Hey, Victor, think if I use the jelly-brain jinx on him, he'd sound and act any different?" Her now forced emotion turned into a lazy grinning smirk. Sure, she was a lot more expressive when he was around, it's what you did near- close friends. She flashed that dangerously sweet smile towards Justin, Her wand lowered and in her lap, yet subtly pointing towards him. "Garrison." Her voice was short and a little stiff.

'Yeah, thanks. I don't like him mocking me.' The cat looked up at her for a second before slinking out from under the bench, hopped on top of it, lazily leaned forward towards the other Vulpes boy, leaped up onto his shoulders, balanced for a second before gaining control, and then he slipped down his left arm. The feline then lazily looked up at him once more, then he sank his fangs right into the boy's hand.

"Stupefy." She whispered in an almost undetectable tone, sure that he was focused on her cat instead, and also probably still a little groggy. Garrison's ear twitched, and he immediately hopped off, releasing his hold on the boy as soon as she began the first part of the spell. He returned to his place under the table.

Lloyd Vrancing

Lloyd had just finished her playing, a satisfied smile on her face and her eyes closed, taking in the warmth of the early morning's sun and the fresh air. "G'morning Ladylloyd. Thank you for sharing your lovely music with the world so early. That was wonderful. How's it?" She jumped back, her eyes wide. For a split second she had thought that it was Lyle again. Only a bit of relief replaced the uncertainty as she saw it was only Vin. Even with him, it was still a bit nerve wracking to play in front of him.

"Oh would you stop doing that!? I mean, it's like you guys can't help but bloody embarrass me!!" She said in an almost whining voice. Oops, looks like someone forgot her meds again. She gave him a small smile. "Thanks though. I-I guess." She quickly put her violin back into its case and walked over to him, Dorremoon walking a few feet behind her.

"It's... good, I think?" She gave him a goofy smile, plopping down and sitting right on his feet, looking up at him with a now sweet, cheerful grin, her eyes half-closed for effect. After opening them once more, Lloyd gave him a thoughtful, naive look. "Do you know who the author and singer of the music is?" With a grin, she waited for his answer for a few moments before saying it herself.

"It's Jason Mraz. Gosh, I really love his music. It's so spunky and heart-warming. Great music, great music." She nodded resolutely, placing her hand on his shin lightly to balance herself. Now that she had a little time to think, she did recall a small fight in the Great Hall, didn't she?

She paused in her antics with Melvin's feet, a studious look on her face as she thought in trying to recall what had happened. She put her finger on her bottom lip, her lips slightly parted. Oh yeah, Delilah, wasn't it? And... that other kid. What's his face? She shrugged, but then remembered that it was a fight. Delilah was uncharacteristically violent towards him, which was obviously strange. She must be pretty upset.

Lloyd gave Vin a stray smile, patting his leg. "I gots ta go. I'll catch up with you later, kay?" She pulled herself up from his feet, picking up her case and quickly ran back towards the building. She turned around, waving back at him before returning to face the right way and dashed inside of the castle, heading straight for the bathroom she thought Delilah disappeared into.

She breathed quietly, hearing the small crying coming from one of the stalls. Lloyd felt a pang on sympathy and related a bit. So she leaned down, settling herself on the floor and unlatching her case once more. She smiled just a bit, bringing the violin back to her chin, and readying the bow once again. She played the same song, but a bit more slowly. She also softly sang the actual words in hope that Delilah could relate. Surprisingly, the lyrics were very fitting for the situation.

It helped that she was running on ADHD energy and mentality, otherwise she'd be extremely too shy about this.

Naire Harth

Naire rubbed his forehead a bit groggily, carefully leaning up in bed. He was among one or two who had refused to over-drink last night, but that didn't mean he didn't partake in a little bit. Weren't they supposed to be the smart house? He groaned, slipping out of bed silently and heading to the showers to prepare for the day.

After that bloody refreshing frigid cold shower, he shivered, stepping out and wrapping a towel around himself, dressing in tan cargo shorts and a striped t-shirt. It was like he had to be the one to get the only non-properly-working shower in the whole school for the first morning back. He sighed, running his hand through his wet hair before brushing his teeth and then went to grab his camera.

To find that it wasn't where it was supposed to be.

His eyes immediately narrowed, and before panic could set in, he made a quick assumption that it was none other than Justin who had to have taken it. He grumbled quietly under his breath and left the Vulpes area, quickly heading to the Great Hall. He spotted the guy over by Teiver and that Victor guy. He was watching all three of them like a hawk. He would refrain from going over there at the moment.

His eyebrows suddenly arched in surprise, watching Teiver mouth the words of a spell. He almost laughed, but refrained from doing so quickly. His wand was up in his hand in a moment's notice, subtly pointing towards the group in fight warily.

He spotted Myra, and put a finger up to his lips, hoping she wouldn't draw attention to himself. He put on a fake exhausted look, and slouched forward a bit, his wand leaning downwards, but still in their direction.

Victor Calza

Teiver had always been quite understanding of Victor's dedication to his family. And by understanding, he meant she usually just didn't press him on the subject. Which was totally fine with Victor. Probably better if she didn't get involved, considering what he suspected he was being dragged into. Their respective backgrounds were easily their greatest differences. She was from the mountains in Colorado, growing up away from civilization, to a wizard father and a muggle mother. Victor had been born in a city in Massachusetts, to a pair of pureblooded wizards, in an extremely long line of historically pureblooded wizards. Victor found that discussing his family with Teiver just made him feel unhappier, because he couldn't help but feel that she didn't approve of something. Of his father, his brother, of Victor and his devotion to them. Something.

But she couldn't understand, coming from her family. She didn't understand the sheer pressure he had been faced with growing up, pressure which was reaching a climax this year. Or so he hoped.

He was actually glad Teiver hadn't accepted his offer to deal with Pollack; with his current lack of sleep, he found himself to be easily irritable. He was likely to do something he'd regret if he forced himself to confront Pollack today. And then, right on cue, his easily irritable self kicked in upon hearing a voice he was very much hoping to avoid hearing, which was then twisted into an abysmal Russian accent. Victor closed his eyes, and sighed through his nose, doing his absolute best to remain calm. He sorely did not want to deal with Hardy right now. Forcing himself to look at him, Victor picked up on the effects of a minor hangover. Which meant that sidekick of his, Flint, was probably hiding in his bed from the sun. For some reason, Victor had chosen to remember that Flint had been historically poor at handling liquor. The curse of having excellent memory, he supposed.

"Couldn't hurt," Victor said about the use of the jelly-brain hex on Justin. He noted that her wand was in her hand. His own was in his sleeve, hidden from sight, but also angled at Justin as Victor leaned back against the table, facing towards the sixth-year. "Maybe it would even get his priorities straightened out."

Garrison made a move at Teiver's command, making his way on top of Justin. Victor loved that cat. Believing fully that Teiver was about to try something, Victor slid his wand into his grip while the cat was sinking teeth into Hardy's hand. He didn't feel tired anymore, that was for sure. And while he didn't feel like making a scene in the Great Hall, unlike those obnoxious idiots that had passed through recently, he would certainly be willing to assist Teiver against Hardy. Anyone else might have made him think twice. But not Hardy.

Of course, being without sleep made one slower to react, and so Victor too found his gaze fixated on Garrison as Teiver subtly cast her spell.

Garrett Flint


No. No. No. No. No. Nope.

He wasn't doing it. Not getting up. He'd missed the feast last night, preferring to alone for once. Taught him right. He hadn't gotten much to eat, and the Betterbeer had kicked his ass. Totally worth it, of course, and they'd even got quite a few fellow foxes to join in, but this really sucked right now.

Flint groaned dramatically, thrashing about in his blankets momentarily before deciding that was too tiring. He squinted through the light at whatever had been placed on the nightstand next to him. His vision was blurry, and he tried to shake it from his head, but just ended up groaning in pain from the headache. He squinted again, recognizing the shape of pills and a water bottle. Immediately he suspected a trap... but then he remembered the long discussions he and Justin had had about their summers last night, and figured that it wasn't likely for Justin to be playing pranks on him just yet. Soon, of course, but not yet. Also, Flint had a feeling he was poor sport. He was too easy sometimes. Justin needed a challenge to satisfy him.

Holding the first pill about three inches from his one open eye, Flint screwed up his face and squinted like a moron at the pill, determining that it was aspirin. Yeah, that would do nicely right now. After sniffing the water bottle, and the water inside, and deciding that it was safe, Flint downed the pills, awkwardly screwed the cap back on the bottle, and smashed his face back into his pillow.

Screw breakfast.

Emerson stirred into consciousness with a wide grin, he had beaten the sun again. He glanced over the clock he'd hung on the wall last night and determined that it was a fine time to get up. Emerson had always been an early riser, he liked to think of it as a race with the sun that he almost always won. The morning was the perfect time for shenanigans, making stuff, or in this morning's case a nice stroll through the castle.

He was careful not to wake the others as he gathered the necessary items for a shower. The common room was deserted, Cervus kids were notorious for sleeping in but Em was fully awake and smirking on his way to the showers, he would be singing quite loudly this morning. With a wicked shampoo coiffure he danced around in the spray and gave a killer show about three octaves too low and still struggling to hit the high notes he belted out "Once I had love and it was gas... something something some Heart a Glass." His repertoire of Muggle songs from the late 70's was pretty extensive though filled with lyrical mishaps. After the concert he dressed himself in some navy pants and a plain white button-down then tossed on his robe and slipped out of the Cervus Commons.

He set out to roam the corridors slowly and easily allowing for his last few hours of Summer to be spent in peace without all the drama of the first night he'd heard so much about. Things spread too quickly in this school. Em thought most of what the grape vine had to say was unimportant, gossip never did much for him. This morning he walked about discussing the Summer with a few paintings some of the more obscure paintings however went on about much more than the Summer and filled him in on their life's great achievements and refused to let him continue his wandering. When he finally pulled himself away from a witch prattling about her invention of magical cookware that alerted the witch or wizard when their food was done he decided to head down to the Great Hall telling her that he was starving. This was entirely true.

So, off he went down the giant staircase it seemed like more people had gathered and were now talking about someone's rather loud and public argument and how sad it was that such a cute couple had separated. More drama to start off the day, he thought and moved into the Great Hall. There were enough people there now, Cervus table had a small group of sleepy students chatting over their seemingly personalized breakfasts. He would have no trouble finding a spot to sit at as his usual place was empty. It appeared to be laid out just for him as he walked over to the Cervus table, a whole pot of tea, scrambled eggs, some toast, an orange and bacon, oh sweet bacon awaited him. So glorious a breakfast could not be found, it was exactly what he wanted, perfect in its simplicity. He grinned widely and went straight for it but first shot a sweeping glance over the Hall.

He should have never looked around. Some kind of shifty duel had set itself up at the other center table. Teiver, that animal whisperer and Naire, the cameraman and most certainly Victor were all pointing their wands at Justin. Teiver's cat was latched on to Justin and she spoke the spell when Em whipped out his own wand and trained it on the mess of Vulpes students, not sure what to do with it. He didn't know what Justin did, he probably deserved some kind of slap on the hand spell but no one needed to be stunned at this hour. Whatever was the reason, Justin could probably block the spell. This scene was too much, Em's breakfast was probably getting cold!

Felix glanced over at the man that sat next to him as he was eating his morning breakfast. The guy looked like Christmas had come early with the sight of bacon on his plate, but Felix didn't pay it much mind. Unlike the other students around him, Felix's breakfast consisted of quite literally only meat. Several eggs, slices of bacon, some sausage, and that mixed into chopped potatoes; it had Felix almost drooling as he ate. Although the meal was good, the desire to have it more raw still burned in the back of his mind, pulling at him as he consumed his meal swiftly. He cursed his wolf spirit for affecting him this way, even if he didn't shift with the moon it still affected him.

Glancing over at the sound of a commotion, his blood boiled to see Justin appearing to be attacked by several students. He immediately had his black wand out and trained on the Vulpes students as he moved to stand next to his friend; breakfast could wait. He idly noticed the man that sat next to him had pulled out his wand as well, and noted that in his mind. Emerson, I think his name was. Felix thought to himself as he got next to Justin.

"Justin, what happened?" He asked sternly, his voice rumbling with a rich baritone as he reached over in an attempt to remove the cat that had latched onto his friend while keeping his wand trained on the others. His six-foot one-inch build rippled with the lean muscle that was partially hidden under his robes as the wolf blood in him was calling for retaliation, something that he had to mentally lockdown to keep from doing exactly that. His gaze shifting to each member that threatened his friend.

Teiver, a bookworm. Naire, the guy that keeps slapping those cards I hear every day. Victor, the guy that just feels cold to me. He mused while silently preparing a Shield Charm to protect himself and his friend from any further harm. He didn't even stop to consider why the other Vulpes were acting the way they did, his wolfen curse crying out inside his head to punish those that would harm his friend.

#, as written by throne
Justin Hardy - Totally a Physics Stripper

Teiver’s ruse might have worked on anyone else. Justin had the survival instincts of a latch-key child, though, and he was more than familiar with what it looked like when she was communicating with the cat. Her attempt to fool him with her face was pretty humorous regardless of what hour of the morning it was or what he’d had to drink the night before. After all, misdirection like that was practically one of Justin’s wealhouses. Even Victor had trouble pulling one over on him, and he was among the most polished liars, either by word or expression, that Justin had ever encountered.

His grin fell away and he sprang into motion. He sort of pivoted to the left, shrugging the arm that Garrison wasn’t on out of his open robe easily, and then pivoted a second time to bring himself around in the better part of a circle. He used his free hand, in the meantime, to drag his robe about behind his back, sort of as if he were putting on a cape in reverse. The final pivot, which would bring him around facing front once more, saw him using his robe to bundle Garrison up while the cat was still descending his arm. He just sort of yanked his arm out of the other sleeve while dragging the bulk of the fabric forward, grabbing the sleeves and hem with both hands in order to turn it into a makeshift sack, Garrison contained within. He’d seen her discretely positioning her wand, and knew that spell was coming.

Justin’s propensity for pranking had resulted in more than his fair share of duels over the years, more often than not with students older than himself. He’d acquitted himself quite well in most of them, largely due to the fact that he didn’t have the conventional wizarding mindset about dueling. Most people seemed to stand stock still, slinging spells at one another like the exchange of musket fire, but Justin never stopped moving and used terrain features to his benefit quite well.

He didn’t have enough time or hands to go for his wand, but he did have an awfully poetic shield available to him. He brought the trapped cat in front of him, interposing it between himself and Teiver. If she didn’t abort the casting, she’d probably be glad she only whispered it, because a Stunning spell at full force, at close range, on so small a creature? Well, she might never be able to forgive herself.

All told, the entire maneuver was a bit ridiculous to watch. Justin was quick, but he was not graceful, so the whole affair was a mess of his arms at odd angles and his long legs dancing poorly, if very effectively. His turning had made him aware that Naire was coming toward him, but his mind was a liiiiittle too preoccupied to dissect that fact overly. As far as he knew, Naire had no issues with him beyond some somewhat adorable awkwardness, and he didn’t exactly consider the Aussie a threat.

Regardless of whether or not Teiver went through with her spell, Justin would toss the fabric-swaddled-cat with a degree of delicacy onto the star charts on the table, using that little distraction to get his wand out. In the midst of his rapid defense, his expression had been one of intense focus, eyes sharp and mouth set in determination. He was breathing a touch raggedly after the flurry of movement, but resumed a rather lopsided grin. When his robe spilled open to reveal Garrison, for better or worse, he looked very pointedly at Teiver and quipped ”Well then. Looks like the cat’s out of the bag.” Translation: it’s on, chica.

He became aware of a presence beside him. Noting it was Cervus-Felix coming to his defense, he couldn’t help but let his fronted grin grow more earnest. Emerson had drawn his wand as well, which… well, if Justin hadn’t been in the midst of a confrontation, he might have blushed, or maybe sang. He wasn’t sure.

”Oh, I was just trying out my Shrodinger’s cat strip tease on Victor and Teiver. Garrison volunteered to help,” he remarked casually in response to Felix. It was a preposterous explanation, but he didn’t want this to erupt into some sort of show down. He did try to abide by some of the school’s more overt rules, like the ones that applied to mass dueling at the breakfast tables. There would surely be repercussions that rippled into the future after this, but they’d be far more subtle than the incident that incited them. He lowered his wand.

”Mind if I have breakfast with you guys?” he asked his Cervus defenders.

(Just for the sake of clarity: Justin wasn’t bitten, Teiver can still abort her spell, and… yeah.)

#, as written by Skwidge
Lloyd Vrancing

Lloyd quietly let her lips return together as she finished her playing, removing the chin rest and setting her instrument back in its case. She then pushed herself up off of the ground, and smiled brightly at the Cervus girl. "Why thank you, milady." She made a sweeping bow, a shy and sheepish grin on her face, even if her actions did speak otherwise.

She then tilted her head back, looking down at her pants. "Yuck, these floors are positively filthy!" She stuck out her tongue, picking up her violin case. "So yeah, wanna go grab some breakfast?" Truth, she had already eaten, but it wouldn't hurt to get another few plates of food. She was running on ADHD energy, after all. And that did make one a bottomless pit.

The girl flashed Delilah a small grin once more, turning on the sink and grabbing a couple of paper towels, running them under the water and then stepping over to her, gently dabbing under her eyes with a cheery, naive smile. "There we go, you look a thousand times better already!" She stepped out her front foot over-exaggeratedly, and stiffly stepped forward, rocking just a tad before walking normally out the door.

Naire Harth

Naire immediately returned his wand back to his pocket, and quickly walked around the other side of the Vulpes table towards Myra. He gave a stunted grimace, sticking his tongue out. "I thought you'd save me a seat! But look at this, you're taking up, like, five bloody seats!" He was overexaggerating, of course, but he settled down next to her, taking the mug of coffee that presented itself gratefully.

He smiled sweetly at her, taking a big gulp of the steaming drink, clenching his eyes shut for a moment before shaking his head. "Much better, eh? What are ya reading?" He pulled back her book gently so she wouldn't lose her page, and scanned over the pages with a grin.

However, his gaze went back over to the fight up the table, and rolled his eyes. But he was soon distracted by a first year tugging on his robes warily. He turned with a big grin. "Yeah, what's up?" The boy looked a bit troubled, continuously eyeing his house mates fighting. "Uhm, won't we get points taken away for this from the prefects?" Naire smirked cheerily, rustling the boy's hair.

"Eh, who really cares about the House cup? Vulpes House may not win a lot, but we definitely have the most fun. Even if there are a few... bumps in the progress." His own gaze fell back to the trio, which had now grown to a... five-o? Whatever. The boy gave a small laugh, and then returned to his own friends.

Teiver Morn

Garrison struggled only a bit when he was caught off guard, but quickly remained standing still so as not to pose a moving barricade for Teiver. Of course, she was caught off guard by the sudden turn of events that Justin threw at her. Man I must be pretty rusty. She thought distractedly, her wand tilting downward of half her own doing. One because she was surprised and shifted a bit for worry of her other set of eyes, and two because it was pretty innocent. And hell, she'd get some sort of laugh from it.

So it ended up pointing towards his shoelaces.

She cut off her previous spell, and instead decided to go with a tongue tying curse. Sure, it was created by an idiot, but it had so many other uses than just for tongues, though retained its initial use.

Thus his shoelaces retied, triple knotting in place. And what with the tongue tying spell preventing a person from talking about a specific subject, why not have shoelaces refuse, or be very almost impossible to untie?

Teiver smiled cheerfully with a laugh. "Well played kind sir, though you should really be more careful with your footwear. Your poor ass might just end up on the floor, and we wouldn't want someone gluing it there, right?" She leaned forward, propping her chin on her wand, sticking her tongue out through another grin.

She then looked over to the two kids from other Houses with a subtly mocking, sympathetic look. "You didn't really think I'd hurt Justin, right? We are somewhat of friends, though some of his antics are a bit questionable. You'd know what I meant easily." She nodded in assumption, turning back to the table and scratching Garrison behind the ear.

Rosina Garenne

Her eyes opened, staring at the clock on her nightstand. It was early, but that was alright. She sat up in bed and stretched, then gave Belle a scratch between the ears. She purred softly in response. She smiled as she hopped out of bed, took a quick shower, then put on some simple clothes, donning her robe last. She decided to let her hair stay down, flowing softly over her shoulders. Before exiting the room, she remembered to grab her wand. The common room was pretty empty, so she didn't bother talking to anyone before she left. Instead of heading straight to the Great Hall, a visit to courtyard was in order first. The morning air was slightly cool, and it felt wonderful to her. Rose absolutely hated when it was too warm outside.

She lingered outside for longer than originally intended, and eventually entered the castle once more to eat some breakfast. As she was walking through the hallway, the sound of music caught her ears. Immediately, she knew who was making it. Quietly, she tiptoed to the doorway it was coming from, and edged it open slightly so she could peek inside. Sighing happily, she saw Lloyd playing the violin. Not many would know it was her, since she didn't choose to play for others most of the time. But she had for Rose, and it had made her feel extremely special. A smile couldn't be helped as she listened. The Ferre was more talented than anyone Rose had ever met. She contemplated entering the bathroom to say hello, but normally Lloyd didn't like to be disturbed while she was playing. So she respected her friend's wishes, and silently closed the door before continuing her trip to the Great Hall.

As she walked, her thoughts crossed to the night before. This morning, she was feeling particularly silly about everything she had felt the night before with Micah. She'd been so flustered, and almost angry. He wasn't trying to be mean to her, he had just been occupied. It had been the first night after all, and she couldn't expect him to give her all his attention for the entire night. He had many friends, and had wanted to talk to all of them. If she could muster up the courage, she wanted to apologize for leaving so abruptly.

Then her thoughts shifted, and she remembered that Felix had been absent last night. Or he had been too busy, but she couldn't imagine him not saying hi to her. He was practically her best friend, after all. He wouldn't have ignored her, she decided finally, so something else must have been going on. As she walked through the large doors, he was the first person she saw. He was looking handsome this morning, she noted, and a smile crept across her face.

Then her eyes registered the rest of the scene, and she noticed him holding his wand, aiming at some of the other students. "Oh dear..." she said to herself, taking a few tentative steps forward. She knew he was fiercely loyal to his friends, so she assumed it was Justin that was in trouble. That was hard to believe.

Rose bit her lip, eyes shifting back and forth between all the students involved. And just as quickly as things got tense, they just seemed to dissipate. Justin was making jokes again, and had lowered his wand. She took that as a good enough sign to approach. She just had to say hi to her best friend. She crossed the rest of the distance quickly, then threw her arms around Felix. "I missed you!" she exclaimed happily, a little chuckle escaping her lips afterward.

"Come on, let's sit..." she said, grabbing his hand. She practically dragged him back to the Cervus table, wanting to get him away from the situation in case something worse happened, and made him sit down next to her. She was so excited to see him, she didn't even realize they were seated across from Emerson. That was the effect her best friend had on her. He calmed her tenseness, and just generally made her more relaxed. She didn't worry so much about things, or what everyone else thought of her. Her eyes then focused on Emerson, and she ran a few fingers through her hair, a nervous habit of hers. But she managed to give him a small smile and wave before turning her attention back to her friend. She was still aware of Emerson's presence, however.

Finn Pollack

When his eyes saw the time on the clock, he groaned, but made himself get up. The first day of classes was an extremely important one, and he wanted to get to the Great Hall as early as possible. As Head Boy, he wanted to be there for all the students of Ferre House, but mostly the first years. They'd no doubt have questions and concerns, and it was his job to answer them and make them feel at ease. He showered quickly, leaving his hair to air dry in the messy, windblown look that he enjoyed so well. A white polo and dark jeans were his simple choice of outfit for the day, before he put on the red-lined robe. Before leaving the room, he grabbed his wand, sticking it in his pocket, and made sure to pin his Head Boy badge on his robes for everyone to see.

As he walked down the steps to the common room, his thoughts drifted to the previous night's events. While he was still extremely interested in what Teiver was up to, his major feeling was guilt. He hadn't returned to the Great Hall after the adventure, which meant that the responsibility of directing the first years had been left entirely on the Head Girl's shoulders. He knew he'd get some grief about it, because he always did the right thing. At least that's what everyone seemed to think. And of course he strived to, but sometimes he fell short of his extreme expectations for himself.

Down in the common room, a first year ran up to him immediately, a panicked look on his face. "Finn, did I miss something? I don't know what my first class is, or what time! Where is my schedule? Was there somewhere I needed to go to pick it up? I don't kn-"

"Woah, dude, chill out," he said, laughing and clapping the boy on the shoulder. The first year didn't seem to know what was so funny, and still had a frightened look on his face. "The Heads of Houses always pass them out after breakfast in the Great Hall. The boys shoulders sagged, and he gave out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," he said and walked away. Finn answered a few more questions, before informing them all that he was heading for the Great Hall, and if they needed anything else to seek him out there. After leaving the common room, he walked slowly through the halls, not feeling any need to rush. It was still pretty early, and most students were likely still asleep in their beds. He started humming a general tune, last night entering his mind once more. He just had to figure out what Teiver was doing in her secret tower. It would take considerable time, he was sure, but he was determined. It was something against the rules, he was confident about that, and it was his duty to put an end to it.

He needed to find time to actually go searching, though. He couldn't do it late at night, because of curfew. He wasn't going to break the rules, being Head Boy and all. Perhaps whenever he had free periods, since studying wasn't that important to him anyway. He just couldn't force himself to sit and read a textbook on some historical wizard, even if their actions changed the face of the wizarding world. He couldn't even force himself to read for the slightly more exciting subjects, like DADA. He liked learning by doing, which was what made him excel in subjects like Charms and Transfiguration, but his grades in History of Magic were well below standards.

He walked through the doors to the Great Hall, and a cluster of people caught his eye. Nothing was happening yet, but it certainly seemed as if tensions were high. And Teiver was in the middle of it... big surprise there. The red-haired girl, Rose was her name, walked up and pulled one of the students away, but the others didn't move. He walked up to them, and crossed his arms, a frown on his face. He wasn't especially surprised to see Victor was part of it either. "Do we have a problem here?"

Priscilla Barsotti

When her eyes opened, she expected to still be in Paris. It was only after a few moments of staring at the stone ceiling that she remembered she had returned to Magus Grex for her final year. Groaning, she made herself sit up, and rubbed her eyes to make herself wake up. Sluggishly, she got out of bed, and Princess mewed at her, obviously annoyed to have been woken up so early. "Oh hush," she said, rolling her eyes. Sometimes her cat was more of a diva than she was.

Upon entering the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror, and frowned. She had a serious case of bed head going on. She was gifted with natural beauty, of course, but it also took work to achieve her level of good looks. After showering, she took quite a long time applying her make up, and gave her hair some loose curls. Picking out her clothes was slightly more challenging. After about fifteen minutes, she decided on a black v-neck tanktop, as well as a black pencil skirt. And true to her nature, rather high black heels adorned her feet. After one last look in the mirror, she deemed herself ready for the public to see her.

She said her goodbye to Princess, and locked her door behind her. Her heels gave loud clicks as she descended the staircase. She absolutely loved heels, for more than one reason. Of course because they always made her look amazing, but also because everyone would know when she was coming. Which normally meant all the young kids got out of her way, or her friends and guys showered her with compliments and praises when she passed. A smirk crossed her lips, as she continued her descent.

Suddenly, she remembered Zack from last night. Immediately, anger filled her tiny little body, but it quickly dissipated. Crazily enough, he had actually apologized to her, and even more had admitted to missing her. The thought of it actually made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. She would have to play it cool today, though. Act as if she hadn't truly been bothered by his japes, and pretend that her heart didn't race faster every time he talked to her. It just wasn't her character.

About halfway down the dormitory stairs, a loud knocking interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see what it was, and almost laughed out loud. It was none other than Vance Abernathy himself. Of course, that wasn't what made her want to laugh. It was the fact that he was knocking on Lee Beauregard's door. She walked up behind him, and crossed her arms, a cold smirk on her face. "Why, Vance, is your true nature finally coming out?" she asked, his back still turned to her. In all truth, she didn't really hate him. It did annoy her that he seemed to act superior towards her. They were both from extremely respected families, and yet he couldn't even be bothered to be friendly with her? It was just atrocious. She was just as good as he was, and he had to know it. So until he decided to be a little more civil with her, she would just poke some fun at him. He dished it out enough, so it was only fair he received some himself.

"Need to get in a little quickie before breakfast?"

Victor Calza

What an awful start to what had almost been a pleasant morning.

Victor was never one to enjoy attention, in fact he preferred quite the opposite. He preferred to be the one pulling the strings, out of sight and out of mind. But right now, he appeared to be in everyone's sights, and on everyone's mind. First Hardy struts forward, rudely interrupting them and simply attempting to annoy them, which was working quite well on Victor. When the pair of them subtly grasped their wands, and angled them towards him, hopefully seen as a warning that he should mind his own business, and not pointlessly bother those who don't enjoy his company, it was apparently seen by practically everyone in the Great Hall, who immediately assumed that he and Teiver were preparing to viciously attack the sixth year. Next thing he knew, that dim quodpot jock Caldwell and Weyard, another service, had instantly joined the cause of their friend, likely unknowing that he had, if anything, asked for what he was about to receive. Their wands were not so subtly drawn, and of course this drew yet more attention. Victor doubted he had ever looked so annoyed. At least that imbecilic Ferre who had entered a shouting match with his girlfriend in the Hall earlier, and so greatly contributed to Victor's expanding headache, chose not to get involved. Smart move.

Teiver had obviously been about to give Hardy precisely what he deserved when the moron so gracefully swooped away to join the side of his two new cronies. When Teiver laced his shoelaces together with a tongue-tying curse, Victor slid his wand back up his sleeve, before propping his head up with his fist, staring stony-faced towards the three that opposed them. That one Cervus girl, a fifth year he thought, strode into the scene. Victor was astonished that he actually couldn't remember her name, she'd made so little of an impression on him in the past five years. But she was the first one to do something sensible, attempting to pull Weyard away before he did something stupid.

And then, to top it all off, Pollack rode to the forefront of the confrontation like the true knight that he was. "Do we have a problem here?" was all he got from Finn. Victor angled his head to the side so that he could meet the Ferre Head Boy's eyes. "Just trying to have breakfast, Pollack."

He looked back to Justin, and those who had jumped to defend him, before summoning some buttered toast to his table. He was hungry, having had a poor dinner last night, and having not yet eaten this morning. More than anything he wished to just be left alone right now. Teiver might have had the energy to play pointless games with Hardy, but Victor was in no mood. When Hardy's accomplice, Garrett Flint, half walked half stumbled into the Great Hall, he sighed to himself.

It was so good to be back.

#, as written by Korrye

Edited away accidentally. Going to re-write to fill what was lost. ;_;

Myra Magaly

The fringes of Myra's mind pricked as a distraction forced it's way into her story. One moment she had a vivid mental image of a 6-legged creature, the beloved pet of the main character, bounding happily away from her towards impending doom, then (to Myra's great annoyance) there was a bunch of movement to her right and someone across the table from her. Sighing she looked up, straight into Near's clear blue eyes. She opened her mouth to great him cheerily and he sternly put a finger to his lip. Her brow furrowed as she followed the line of his wand tip, towards Teiver, Victor and Justin. Obviously faking exhaustion, Near made his way towards her and she sat up a little straighter, a frown of confusion on her face. She did as told though, and kept her mouth shut.

She watched, wide eyed, as wands started appearing around the Vulpes table from Vulpes and non-Vulpes alike. Her mouth falling open in silent astonishment at the blatant disregard of school rules by so many students. She glanced over at the head table, there were only two professors present and they weren't even paying attention. The rules, what had happened to the rules? And why in the world were the teachers oblivious. Squinting she realized it was Applebome and Ashby, undoubtedly too busy flirting to even realize anything was happening. She was earnestly considering a mass Expelliarmus charm when Justin started dancing and she snapped her mouth shut, her face immediately twisting into a mix of confusion and humor. Relieved, she ceased the movement of her hand toward her wand. She watched intently as Garrison was unceremoniously dumped onto the table in front of Teiver and wands began to disappear into robes again. She bit her lip in concern, Poor Garrison! And poor Teiver, having to watch her little guy get all tangled up. I wonder what all that was about anyway... She was pulled out of her thoughts by Naire putting his wand away and starting to walk back around toward the table to come up next to her and sit. She watched him, her finger in her book still.

"I thought you'd save me a seat! But look at this, you're taking up, like, five bloody seats!" She smiled and looked around, "How was I to know you'd be up in any sort of timely fashion this morning, boozy?" She winked at him, "Yeah, don't think I didn't know you were down there with all of them."

Myra wrinkled her nose at the coffee that appeared in front of Naire and watched as he took a large sip, practically humming in contentment. "Much better, eh? What are ya reading?" She let him take the book from her. Had it been anyone else she would have clutched it, but she trusted Near to treat her books the way she did. Even if he didn't read as much as she did, he understood her adoration of the written word. "Biting the Sun," she mumbled, "by Tanith Lee." She'd read it at least 14 times but she didn't care, it was a wonderfully amazing story that left the reader questioning and excited and dreaming up possibilities. She watched as he gingerly flipped through the pages, losing herself in the memories and musings of the books, a content smile prettily gracing her lips.

"Eh, who really cares about the House cup? Vulpes House may not win a lot, but we definitely have the most fun. Even if there are a few... bumps in the progress." The sheer blasphemy shocked her enough to squeek. "What?!" She quickly assed the situation and looked at the concerned first year. Giving Near a look to kill she turned to the kid, "I think we've gotten away without getting any points deductions, but always be concerned with the house cup. It's a challenge meant to make us all work at being proper people. Besides, how would our Quodpot team feel if we didn't win this year because of bad behavior and not because they never win games? Wait... oh god..." her face turned bright red and she just stared at the kid, "That didn't come out how I meant... I just... I meant something about their efforts... Like.. oh god. Just try your best to be good. Run along now!" She shooed him off. The first year, who had just looked sincerely confused shrugged, shook his head, smiled at Naire and ran off to join some other first years who had showed up at the end of the table.

Myra, who's face was now the decent red-purple of embarrassment, snatched the book back from Naire and began to stuff her face again. "I'm blaming that on you," she mumbled through her food, swallowing as she caught sight of Finn walking proudly towards the scuffle. She watched him discreetly, attempting to hide the blush that was now created by something else. His jeans and collared shirt fit so well, and she'd always felt the red-lining on his robe had complimented his skin so well. Her heart was beating a little too fast for her comfort, so she turned back to her food, grabbing her water and downing it. She placed the bookmark back in her book, and the book into her bag, then turned back to Naire, who was staring at her. She smiled cautiously, then cleared her throat, "Uh... aren't you hungry?" She motioned toward the empty table in front of him, "You know they'll send it up whenever you're ready."

Vin Magaly

Vin supressed a chuckle at Lloyd's dainty jump of surprise and leaned forward, elbows to his knees and chin on one hand, considering her. "Oh would you stop doing that!? I mean, it's like you guys can't help but bloody embarrass me!!" Her voice was an impertinent whine and Vin's eyebrows slowly raised, one corner of his mouth a smirking jest of her tone. He watched as she talked to herself in her head, as she did on occasion, and responded in a more calm manner, "Thanks though. I-I guess." Vin shrugged, leaning back again, "No prob babe. I speak truth." He sweeped an arm over the rock next to him, beckoning her to take a seat.

"It's... good, I think?"she questioned him. He gave her a strong, sure nod of "yes" then raised his eyebrows again, looking at the seat next to him. She surprised him then as she walked over and sat right on his feet. One eyebrow raised ever so slightly. This was new, when had she ever been this comfortable with him before? They'd jammed a couple times sure, but she usually just took off before he got a chance to really get to know her. A softly enticing scent caught his nose and he looked down at the top of her head as she looked out over the grounds. He frowned.

"Do you know who the author and singer of the music is?" Jason Mraz. The answer was in his head before she'd even finished her question, although he didn't speak. Of course he knew, he'd played the song himself plenty of times on the guitar. Thinking about it though, it had never been as emotion-filled and delicate as what she'd just played on the violin... there's so much life energy in her music, "like the instrument is a part of her, not just a hobby." Lyle's words popped into his mind and he shook his head, realizing he'd just been watching her. No bueno. He looked out over the grounds as she continued, taking his silence as a response of "no."

"It's Jason Mraz. Gosh, I really love his music. It's so spunky and heart-warming. Great music, great music." Vin could feel her warmth over the song more than hear it in her voice, and just sat, enjoying that warmth. He really didn't feel the need to respond, so instead placed his hands behind himself on the rock and dropped his head back to bask in the warmth of the sun and Lloyd's radiant aura. Almost smiling, he frowned ever so slightly when her hand caught his shin, helping her balance. He was suddenly only aware of her lithe fingers on his shin. He looked at her again, watched as she played with the laces of his right shoe, then stopped, a thought striking her. Then, before he could blink she was standing, patting him on the leg, "I gots ta go. I'll catch up with you later, kay?"

He was looking at his leg where she'd just pat him, and he squinted again, his brow furrowed. What. The. Hell, Magaly? It's Lloyd. He realized he hadn't responded to her and looked up, but she was already back at the front doors. He stared after her a moment, chewing on his lip, then jumped up and rolled out onto his back on the grass, a long sigh escaping him. As the breath left his body, he focused on all the weird energy in his body leaving with it. After a few deep breaths like this, he sat up and crossed his legs. Time to get back in touch with me, he thought and began to meditate, letting his mind take him on a sweltering hike across an unknown desert, asking himself questions about enlightenment. Eventually his thoughts grew silent and he knew he was in touch with his soul again. Getting up, he grabbed the piece of toast that had been left forgotten on the rock and began to eat it as he made his way back into the castle. Having been inspired by Lloyd, he mumbled "Accio Guitar" and waited patiently as it made it's way to him. Grabbing it, he sat down on the steps just outside the door and began to jam out, singing softly to himself.

Rosina Garenne

As Felix summoned his earlier plate of "breakfast," Rose wrinkled her nose slightly. They certainly had very different tastes in food, of course she knew it wasn't exactly his fault. That was the wolf side of him. Sometimes, she still found it hard to believe that her best friend was part werewolf. It definitely made him more aggressive at times, and he had an extreme loving of red meat. Otherwise, his differences weren't that noticeable to her. When he had first told her, she'd been frightened. But after really thinking about it, she had decided that he was still the same person he'd been before she knew his secret. And it wasn't like he turned into a complete werewolf every full moon. He really wasn't a danger to her at all. Sometimes, she imagined him as more of a protective guard dog than a werewolf. It always made her smile.

She beamed as he confessed to missing her too, and squeezed his hand back tightly before allowing him to dig in to his breakfast. She grabbed something a little more sensible to eat, a small bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar, and a bowl of fruit. She nibbled at her food as he apologized for not being around the night before. She met his eyes and nodded, knowing exactly why Professor Kass had such an interest in him. "It's okay, I somehow managed to survive without you!" she said, leaning over to bump into him slightly. She stayed close to him as he leaned in to her ear, and whispered to her. When he used his special nickname for her, a flush quickly arose in her cheeks, and she looked down at her plate, smiling softly.

After their moment had passed, she straightened back up and returned back to her breakfast. She took a few sips of iced mocha coffee, her favorite thing to drink in the morning, to clear her throat before responding. "Oh, my summer was so boring, really," she said, meeting his eyes for a second. "My parents and I went to visit my aunt up in Washington. It was so dreary, and rained almost everyday." She shrugged her shoulders, plopping a juicy piece of pineapple in her mouth. After swallowing, she continued. "I mean, it was still good to see all the family, but I wouldn't exactly call it fu-"

"Rose!" The voice cut off her sentence, but Rose didn't really mind. She turned towards the noise, seeing Delilah coming up beside her. A smile lit up her face as the other girl sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She wrapped both arms around Delilah's waist, holding on to her tightly for a few seconds before letting go. "It's really good to see you too, Dee," she said, using the shortened nickname she'd come to like for her older friend. Rose's eyes shifting to look at Felix. She hoped he wasn't too upset that her friend had interrupted their conversation.

"Oh, you didn't interrupt much, trust me. I was just telling Felix that I went up to Washington with my parents this summer. Got in a lot of family time. Nothing too exciting." She reached her hand over to grab Felix's quickly, and squeezed it reassuringly, letting him know that she was still very much focused on him. Delilah and her hadn't been friends from the start, like she and Felix had. But once they had found out about their common interest in magical creatures, friendship hadn't been far behind.

I'm sure both of your summers were far more exciting then mine. So you just have to tell me about them!"

Finn Pollack

"Just trying to have breakfast, Pollack." Finn's eyes narrowed at the Vulpes, who he wasn't especially fond of. He couldn't really be friends with someone who had such a blatant disregard for the rules. Of course he always tried to be as friendly as possible to everyone, but since day one he had felt that Victor just despised him. Honestly, he had no idea why. He'd never personally done anything to the guy, but obviously something bugged Victor. Not to mention, he hated being referred to by his last name.

His eyes shifted to Teiver, who was staying pretty silent throughout the whole exchange. He watched her for a few moments, knowing pretty well that she wasn't innocent in this situation. He'd seen first hand the weird and rather close relationship the girl had with her cat. And the cat had practically pounced on Justin, even though it hadn't harmed his somewhat friend in any way. His eyes glanced up to the staff table, and he was disappointed to find it practically empty. The few professors who were present weren't paying attention to the student body at all. He sighed, wishing they were more observant and could take care of this rather than him. He knew he was just going to get crap from almost everyone for doing the right thing.

Finn uncrossed his arms, and gave each student one last look. "Good, just keep it that way, Calza," he japed back, using the same last name method that Victor liked so much. As he walked away, he turned back to glance at Teiver one more time. As he turned his head around, he noticed that Myra was watching him. A smirk lit up his face, and he changed his direction towards her. He was intercepted by Sam before he could even take a step, however, who gave him a stiff pat on the back. He didn't get a chance to respond, since Sam took off so fast towards the Ferre table, aiming for the first years who had questions about their schedules.

The same first year that had questioned him in the common room earlier, Keith was apparently his name, approached him once more, obviously having missed Sam's help. "Finn, man, I have Charms first period. I have no idea where to go."

"It's actually really easy, Keith. Go out the doors and turn left. It's the next building you enter, second floor." He paused, thinking a moment, before he offered up a little more help. "Tell you what, after your morning class, I'll get a map of the castle and let you know where all the classes are. Sound good?"

"Yeah, man, that's great. Thanks!" he exclaimed before scurrying out the doors, most likely attempting to go find his class so he wouldn't be late. Finn chuckled, remembering how terrified he had been his first year. And the Head Boy and Girl hadn't been nearly as helpful as he planned to be. It was part of the reason he wanted to be there for all the first years as much as possible. He wanted to make their experience as positive as possible.

He resumed his walk towards Myra, and thankfully didn't have any more interruptions on the short walk to say hello. When he reached her, he leaned down onto the table, clasping his hands together. He gave her a genuinely warm smile. "Hi Myra, how was your summer?" He looked over to Naire and gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Hello to you too, Naire."

Priscilla Barsotti

Her response to Vance's statement about her fashion sense was to give him a blank stare. Like she really cared what he said about fashion with the way he dressed? She doubted Vance would be able to tell Costco brand from Dior or Prada. He could have come up with something much more original and creative. And his play of words basically dismissing her accusations was laughable as well. If it was so ridiculous, why exactly was he standing outside Lee's door, banging on it like he really needed to get inside? She let that comment go unanswered too, though, since he continued without too long of a pause.

Priscilla was quite surprised when he began discussing what had just gone through her head moments before. She raised an eyebrow, wary of him bringing it up simply out of nowhere. Was he trying to distract her from the fact that he was standing outside of Lee's door? Or was he actually being genuine with her? She walked a few places closer, then turned her back against the wall, letting it support her. "I suppose it would be okay to be civil with each other..." was all she said to him before he spoke more.

”This is a new year, Priscilla. I don’t see why we can’t make an effort to be better to one another, do you?” After that line, she was indeed more wary than before. Even though she had been wondering why they weren't more friendly to each other earlier, the fact that he was saying so out loud in their current situation was more than enough to give her pause. And the line about Neveah? Such bullshit. Priscilla was well aware of how much Neveah hadn't liked her. The feeling had actually been mutual. Neveah hadn't liked her sense of fashion and materialism, but she hadn't liked the girl's tacky split ends or horrendous personality, so they were even. And the fact that Neveah hadn't returned was better than anything. It made Priscilla the top dog in Arietem House.

"I'll forgive the bullshit coming out of your mouth, Vance, only because I agree that we are better allies than enemies." She smirked at him, pushing herself off the wall. "Next time, thou-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence though, since at that moment the door behind them was thrown open, and a loud yell echoed down the stone hallway. "Come on in!” she heard in Lee's adorable southern drawl. Although, what she saw next wasn't so adorable. He had turned away from the open door, and his backside was exposed to both her and Vance's sight. It was covered, though the white boxers were extremely tight and extremely see though. And nothing was left to her imagination, unfortunately. "Oh dear god..." she said out loud, immediately throwing a hand over her eyes. She didn't know if she should be disgusted, or erupt into a fit of laughter.

Lee was going on with his speech, completely unaware that Priscilla was present, apparently. She particularly enjoyed the part about kissing, personally. After he finished, she moved out of sight from the doorway, and uncovered her eyes. "For heaven's sake, Lee, put on some god damn clothes!" she exclaimed, purposefully not looking in the direction of the doorway. She fixed her eyes on Vance, instead. She couldn't help the large smile that appeared on her lips afterward. "Apart from Lee answering the door practically naked, what was that he was saying about a kiss?" she asked, her eyes locked on his. "Care to elaborate?"

#, as written by throne
Justin Hardy – Cervus for the day!

”Diffindo,” he said evenly, almost as if in reply to Teiver as he cocked an eyebrow at her. Somewhere in his facial expression was scrawled the word amateur. It accompanied some slight readjustment of his wand, but the Severing Charm made quick work of his shoe-laces, simply slicing through them and freeing him from an admittedly unconventional use of the tongue-tying curse. ”I’ll send you a bill for those,” he added, saluting her with his wand. Victor got a tidy little smirk, before Justin turned his attention on Finn. The Ferre do-gooder seemed more focused on Teiver and Victor, which Justin derived immense amusement from, so Justin just shrugged and grinned a goofy grin at him, as if he had nothing whatsoever to do with no less than six wands being drawn.

He rolled his eyes, noting that he’d lost Felix to Rose. Heaven forbid he should ever be under an actual attack when there was a pretty girl around. ”Just can’t rely on those straight boys,” he remarked to Emerson with a chuckle. He made a mental note to check in with Felix on the status of his lupine cycle. If he needed a potion soon, Justin would have to get to work on it by the end of the day. It was just another one of the many nice things he did that people tended to forget in the wake of his childish antics. Ah well.

Emerson’s non-chalant indication that there was something to talk about derailed his plotting of retaliatory pranks to play on Teiver quite thoroughly. Justin’s head sort of jerked a bit as he regarded the other boy, and he certainly noticed the way that Emerson was carefully avoiding eye-contact. That meant it was almost assuredly bad news. But what kind of bad news would Emerson have to discuss with him at the breakfast table? Usually that kind of thing would be relegated to semi-private hallway discussions, or a walk outside, or…

Maybe he was reading into it too much. But then again, maybe he wasn’t. What if Emerson was seeing someone? He’d been gone all summer, he had plenty of wizarding friends in New York. And maybe he would choose to tell Justin in a public place, hoping to avoid some sort of histrionic-laden freak-out (which Justin would readily admit would probably be his first response to that sort of news).

As all of that went buzzing through his head, he simply nodded, moving to take the seat beside Em at the table. He was about to inquire, casually of course, what they had to talk about, but it only took one look at the Cervus to realize he’d fallen into one of his weird food trances. That warranted another roll of his eyes, but his lips told a different story. They’d pursed into an amused, affectionate smile, and he might have just sat there, watching Em eat, had his mail not arrived.

The owl swooped over the Vulpes table, but, not finding Justin there, winged off over toward him at the other center table. Screeching, it seemed a bit heavily laden by its cargo, which it dropped with precision onto the table before Justin before taking off. There were a few magazines, two newspapers, and a very long, somewhat thin box wrapped in parcel paper. The latter-most triggered a blink, and he quickly pulled it to the side Em wasn’t sitting at, leaning it against the table.

He spared another glance at his friend, and realizing that there’d be a few more minutes of chewing and swallowing, opened up one of his newspapers to wait him out. One of the more diligent house-elves had made a carafe of black coffee appear in front of him, and Justin gladly filled his mug. He helped himself to some bacon, a bagel, and a muffin, and proceeded to pick at all three while sipping bitter coffee and skimming the headlines.

Lyle Brightham – Ace Reporter!

So, you lot have all heard me go on and on about house elf liberation. For this week’s editorial, I’ll be doing more of that, but this time, I’ll be sharing my experiences with an actual free house elf. I met him this summer, and it made me realize that a lot of why people don’t care about house elf freedoms exists because the house elves themselves seem so happy to be enslaved. It’s something that’s existed for centuries and centuries, and many house elves don’t even know that things were different once.

So I’m going to introduce you to Sprogget, and tell his story. And maybe then-

”… and maybe then…” he mumbled to himself, his eyes intently focused on what he’d written thus far. Between when he’d arrived and now, he’d transformed the small section of the infirmary between his chair and Demetrio’s bed into a mess of parchment and ink. His notes were scattered around on the floor in a seemingly disorganized fashion, but in actuality, the order he’d put them in made perfect sense to him. It was the best way to tell Sprogget’s story- he just needed to finish the introduction before he could dive into it, but he was a bit stuck.

He heard Demetrio speak and looked up suddenly. Wait, was Demetrio naked? Lyle clapped a hand over his eyes, then peeked through a slit between two fingers. No, he was in a gown. That made waaaaay more sense, and was way less embarrassing for both boys. He carefully stood up, collecting his notes and then setting them in a semi-neat stack before he started snooping about to find Demetrio’s missing garments. He grinned at the other boy brightly. ”Mornin’ sleepyhead!” Lyle’s pre-breakfast enthusiasm could sometimes be terrifying. He poked around a bit, then found a pile of neatly folded and spell-laundered clothes sitting on a nearby bed. ”This must be them! Here you are.” He scooped up the clothes and then bounded over to Demetrio to present them.

”And, well, I’m here because I heard about the troll-attack! That must have been really scary, but you look like you’re okay, so maybe it wasn’t that scary, haha. But, you’re okay, right? Because…” He sort of trailed off, a little self-conscious as he got to the point. ”Well, I was hoping you might do an interview about it? I don’t think there’s ever been a troll attack at the school before, not for years anyway, so, yeah, um, I’d really be grateful.” Another pause. ”OH! You probably want to change.” He clapped both hands over his eyes this time. ”But, yeah, what do you say Demetrio? Maybe your story can help other people avoid getting hurt, and just think, you survived a troll! That’s awesome!”

Forgetting that Demetrio was probably changing, he peeked to see if it seemed like the other boy was going to consent to an interview. If Demetrio was in a state of undress… well, Lyle wouldn’t really be able to help peeking for just a few seconds. Harmless curiosity. Once he realized he was doing it, he’d be hopelessly embarrassed and awkward. He really just wanted to check Demetrio’s reaction to his interview pitch.

Vance Abernathy – At Wit’s End

The sad fact was that Vance was being genuine. At least, his version of genuine. At its depths, the motion to parley was rooted in selfishness, self-preservation. Priscilla could be a valuable ally, or if not, shuffling her into the more neutral ‘not an enemy’ column would be a bit of relief. The arrangement was mutually beneficial. If she wanted Nevaeh’s place in the pecking order, she’d have it. Better her than Bellona after her threats and bungling. With his backing, which would require only a modicum of effort on his part- acknowledgment at dinner tonight, a few words to the faceless girls who were already jockeying for it- she’d have no one to worry about.

Irritation flared when she appeared to be dismissing his entreaty, but they didn’t have the chance to exchange another verbal salvo. The door was open, and while Lee had complied with his prayers to a degree… it simply wasn’t enough. He’d never expended any thought on the subject, but he no longer needed to imagine what Lee’s rear end looked like. Neither did Priscilla, who seemed to be having some sort of dainty fit at the sight. To make matters worse, the boy started babbling an apology that would, under other circumstances, have pleased him immensely. He would have forgiven Lee. Probably would have told him something much closer to the truth than he’d been planning, as reward for a display of humility and loyalty befitting a noble wizarding family and an associate of an Abernathy.

The circumstances were as they were, though. Priscilla, of course, pounced on the opportunity. He could hardly blame her; he’d have done the same in her situation. It was rare that an opportunity to catch Vance in indignity arose. It was more than that, though. He was feeling the hints of betrayal. Lee in particularly, but Priscilla’s rejection of his truce compounded the matter.

”Lee,” he said abruptly, to get the boy’s attention. Clue him in, perhaps, to the fact that someone else was there if he hadn’t sussed it out already. ”Wait.” Priscilla had ordered him to get dressed, but Vance wasn’t going to miss this chance to shame Lee while using his nigh-nudity to continue discomfiting her. When it came to orders, he knew whose would be obeyed. ”Turn around, won’t you? Presenting your back is hardly fitting for a conversation.” The polite request and etiquette reminder had something of an edge to it. This is not me asking, that edge conveyed. This is me telling.

He smiled at Priscilla. She should thank him for this little lesson in the finer points of poise and humiliation. ”If you must know, Lee here was under the impression that he might be able to ransom some affection out of me when I asked him to do me a favor. Obviously, he’s seen the error of his ways. Isn’t that interesting? I evince disdain and apathy stippled with cordiality, and he’s willing to risk my wrath for the sake of a kiss, then beg my forgiveness when he realizes how wrong it was. Meanwhile, you primp and posture, use those wiles of yours that everyone is always going on about… and all you have is a flock of harpies who wouldn’t spit on you if you caught fire.”

He tilted his head, and then glanced to Lee. ”You asked for the truth. That is the only truth that matters, isn’t it? As long as there’s even a fleeting chance…” He smiled gently. ”You’re mine. Not that you’re any great prize. You have your merits, surely, but I get the feeling Priscilla was about to retort something about your desperation not being anything worth writing home about?” They… might be starting to worry. Vance was never this transparent, not with fellow Arietem. He’d verbally eviscerated plenty of other students, but never his house-mates. There was a strange intensity to his voice, as if he were slowly building up to something… volatile. His gloved hand was clenched into a fist.

He looked to her for confirmation, and continued whether he got it or not. ”But she can’t even get the boy she actually likes to notice her. It’s sad, really. Like a barker at a bazaar who can’t unload even a single vial of snake-oil. And when presented with a chance to make a formidable ally, what does she do? She lashes that serpent’s tongue yet again, makes intimations about the two of us, ludicrous though the thought might be.” He shook his head as he continued watching Priscilla. Watching wasn’t quite the right word for it. If she weren’t so spirited, she might feel very much like a mouse awaiting the strike of a poised serpent.

All at once, he was suddenly aware of what he’d said, the fact that he’d gone too far. His brow furrowed as he looked between them, replaying his own words through his mind. ”So what am I to do?” he asked. His tone had changed. He’d lost that unstable momentum he’d been gathering. ”I’m not interested in trading jests.” He shook his head, and regarded Priscilla much more normally. ”I yield. I’m done. I have much more important things to attend to, so by all means, tell everyone who will listen to you that I’m sodomizing Lee every chance I get, tell them I hurt your feelings, tell them whatever you like.” He sucked in a breath, and laughed jaggedly. ”That actually felt… good.”

There’d be a brief bit of silence after that, where either of them might have responded. If they didn’t take advantage of it, he’d be off, striding toward the common room, curling and uncurling the fingers of his mechanical hand without even realizing he was doing it.

#, as written by Skwidge
Lloyd Vrancing

"Ya ya, let us go!" She shrugged lightly, falling into step beside Delilah as they made their way back to the Great Hall. However, she soon fell behind her in following as they both made their way to the Cervus table. Lloyd sat right next to Delilah on her other side as she greeted her friends. Rose was there too, and Lloyd smiled at her, though wasn't recognized. She would have frowned and announced: "Hey, I'm here too!" But that would only make her feel bad, and she wasn't just about to do that to the little Cervus she treasured.

So instead she just smiled and waved, and as Delilah apologized for interrupting, she put in her own rebuttal. "I'm not." She threw Felix W, or at least that's who she thought it was, a cheeky grin, picking up some bacon and chewing into it eagerly. She fell silent as Rose continued to ignore her, but still reassured herself that it was totally fine and she probably just didn't see her, or really... hear her.


However, Dorremoon sauntered into the Great Hall and leaped onto the bench beside her, thus saving her thoughts on the Cervus kids surrounding her. She scratched the cat lightly behind the ear, then wiped her hand on a napkin before returning to eat again.

Naire Harth

He stuck out his tongue. "Well you did promise! Besides, I know only one guy who decided not to join those two idiots in their drink fest. And that's Victor over there. And he wasn't even really in the dormitory anyway!" He threw his hands up in defeat, soon crossing them in defiance.

He then began stifling laughter as she screwed up the kid, not him. "Woow, smooth one there, Myra. And how is this my fault!?" However, he realized that her focus was on someone else, and he turned to see who. Annd it turned out to be none other than Finn Polluck, goody two shoes of Fe- the whole entire frickin' school, really.

He put his elbow up on the table, resting his chin in his hand with a look between boredom and glum despair. However, he realized that she was looking back at him, and he shook his head. "Sorry, the coffee isn't as good as it usually is. But not the house elves' fault, they do have hundreds of mouths to feed anyway." He gave her a smile, then turned his head, as if hearing something.

But instead he subtly mouthed the word baka before turning back. And he found Finn right before them. He gave him a nod of acknowledgement as well, and turned back to his coffee. "Yeah, I'm not too hu- oh hey there's Lloyd, catch ya later!" He managed, quickly getting up and striding right over to the Cervus table where everyone seemed to be gathering today.

He was greeted by a hardy, "Hey Mr. N." And flashed her a smile, settling down next to her and managing a few blueberries and kiwi. I mean, seriously. Who really likes Finn in the Vulpes House? He rolled his eyes, staring down at his food for a minute before tucking into it.

Teiver Morn

Teiver smiled sweetly at Justin, watching his shoes pop out a bit more. "Well, good luck with having loose shoes all day." She nodded towards him, then smirked at Garrison. The cat merely peered up at her, his eyes unwavering. 'Bastard child. I mean, who does that? I hope he screwed some part of him up by doing that little rain dance.' He then turned down, hopping off of the table with a meow.

'So exotic.' He purred, his gaze falling on Dorremoon as she decided to enter the Hall. He was about to go over to her before Teiver whispered his name a bit harshly, demanding he stay. 'But she's so exoticcc....' "Yeah, I got that." She muttered quietly to the cat. Teiver then flashed him a look that spoke, She's not interested, and Garrison almost rolled his eyes. 'Oh, you don't know that for sure. You wouldn't understand us.' "Oh please, I unde-" She suddenly cut herself off, realizing what she'd just ... almost said. And then Finn decided to grace them with his presence as well, and she clutched the wand in her hand irritably.

She let out a silent huff of breath, allowing the wand to slip down her robe sleeve and into its pocket. She glanced down at the French bread before her, and the small dish of oil and ignored it for now. "Good, just keep it that way, Calza," Suddenly, she rose to her feet and stepped out of the bench. She threw Finn a poisonous frown as soon as he turned around, still pretty pissed he had found her tower. Well, at least one of them. Perhaps the other room she valued was far more important than five years of work, but nonetheless.

Teiver sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead in confusion. "I'm gonna head out." She didn't even mention a bye, and simply left the Great Hall with her cat following behind her, casting a glance back to the Cervus table where Dorremoon was hiding.

She walked a couple of steps away from the doors, and then leaned against the wall, her fingers up to her temple and rubbing quietly. Bloody hell, so confused. Ugh, I managed to piss both of them off, and now I'm not happy with them. She shook her head, putting the problem between the two boys away for now, and started walking to her first class early. She peered down at Garrison. "I want you to go check on that little project of ours, and make sure the room is clean." Garrison froze in mid-step, looking up at her in disbelief. 'You want me to do what!? But, but Teiver, I'm so small, and I can't clea-... yeah, sure whatever....' He finished lamely, disappearing down the halls.

She let out a loud groan of frustration, glad she was the only one around. I'll just eat at lunch, I've done it many times before. She made the rest of her journey silently, quickly ascending the stairs to the third floor of the science building. Looking up, Teiver threw a sidelong glance at the Head of her House who was involved in some writing and preparations. "Morning." She mumbled, and he looked up, nodding his head in greeting as well. "Morning, Miss... Morn."

Walking over to a wooden table, Teiver pulled aside a chair, took out her cauldron and set it up, making preparations herself.

Victor Calza

One by one, they dispersed.

Weyard was practically tackled away by Garenne (he'd remembered the name after some time. He knew he'd had it archived back there somewhere.), Caldwell returned to the Cervus, and Hardy had the good sense to go with him, after slicing his shoelaces apart and getting absolutely no trouble from Pollack. Typical. For a moment Victor thought things were going to get worse again when Halford made his way abruptly to him. “Really, we’ve got to find yall a more constructive out let for all this energy… save the confrontation for the Duelling Club at least.” He spared the time to give the Ferre a brief glare before returning to his toast. Halford had already contributed to his headache by deciding to have that horrid argument with his girlfriend within Victor's hearing. He wasn't exactly in a receptive mood right now.

"Good, just keep it that way, Calza," came Pollack's voice. Of course, heaven forbid I do anything other than eat my breakfast while my friend and I are harassed by my fellow students, he thought, but he kept his mouth shut, as Pollack was leaving, and he didn't want to give him any reason to stay. He noticed the look he gave Teiver on his way out, though. He was sure to be trouble.

And then there was just Teiver, only she too had decided to leave, after giving Pollack a look Victor found pleasing. Perhaps it was better if he was alone for a moment. He doubted his current mood would win anyone over, and well... it seemed as though the toast was the only thing he could count on to not assume he was an enemy.

He gave the toast a piercing glare, just to make sure.

Garrett Flint

So his stomach had won out in the end, and Flint had decided that some amount of sustenance would be in order, if he was going to have any chance of making through the day. Quite oblivious to the tense moment that had just occurred in the Great Hall, and everything else, for that matter. He was dressed in a simple white shirt and jeans under his hastily tossed on robes, and even though he'd clearly just showered, his hair was a bit of a mess today.

Food. Need food.

He put one foot in front of the other until he could slam his ass down on the Vulpes bench. He had just been about to grab a load of pancakes when he found Victor Calza across from him. He felt quite like he'd accidentally woken a sleeping cobra or something, and now it was pissed and coiling to strike.

"Find. Another. Seat."

Flint raised an eyebrow, looked groggily at the seventh year for a moment, and then sighed, getting up. He looked around the bench. Where the hell was everyone? Where was Justin? Where was Summer? Hell, where was Bliss? He'd sit by her right now. Nope, no one at the Vulpes table to sit with. He considered joining Myra and Finn, but thought better of it. Myra had a hard enough time around just one guy. Oh well... time to make some new friends or something.

He dragged himself over to the Cervus table, and found a seat. "I'm joining Cervus House, if that's cool with everyone," he said to no one in particular, sitting down before receiving any kind of permission. He had ended up somewhere in the midst of Delilah, Felix Two, and...

"Wait, wait. Don't say it... it'll come back to me... R-... Ra, no Ro-... Ro-... Rose! Bam, knew I'd get it. Oh, and hey Felix Two, hey Delilah. Cool if I crash here for a bit? I think Ivan the Terrible over there's going to light the table on fire in a bit."

Like many of the students at Magus Grex, Flint knew of Delilah, Felix Two, and Rose, but didn't really know them. It was the result of trying to divide his time between too many people. But he certainly didn't have a bad opinion of any of them.

#, as written by throne
Vance Abernathy – Runaway Train

Zach’s rapid retreat only cemented what Vance was beginning to understand. About himself, about his house, about the school. About the game. He’d been making the right moves for so many years, but he’d been doing so on entirely the wrong board. None of the effort he’d put in was going to matter a whit this year, his last year at Magus Grex, quite possibly his last year altogether. What did a boy too blind to see what an empty road his affections had set him upon matter in the face of a cabal of dark wizards? What would a girl so concerned with the trappings of power do when actually faced with it? These were not troops to be marshaled. They were children. Even Zachariah, whom he had a few shreds of genuine respect for… he wasn’t a killer. There’s only one killer in this detestable hallway.

Somehow, Lee found either the courage or desperation to try to calm him down and draw him into his room. Vance maneuvered his hand away from the younger boy, slipped from his grasp and turned to make his way into the common room. Even though his stride was as laden with purpose as ever, it had somehow changed as well. It was subtle, but the evidence was there. His step seemed a little lighter, liberated of some unseen burden. The fingers of his prosthetic hand were still curling and uncurling, but they only resembled a first for one second out of every three. The fully articulated joints moved seamlessly, never stopping. His viridian gaze swept the assembled students, seeking one in particular. He wasn’t there. Possibly still in bed, or having breakfast. No matter; Vance would see him in class.

Class. He wanted to laugh. That was one pretense he couldn’t really afford to dispense with. The changes of him learning anything directly useful to him were meager, save for in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he couldn’t simply stop going. That would invite questions. That would take things out of his control. His quarries would retreat behind their public faces, faces he know doubt knew, and then he’d lose his chance at revenge entirely.

Perhaps his fellow Arietem were not up to the task, but there were other young witches and wizards who could aid him. He’d already reached a loose accord with one of them; Fletcher. He could think of a few more names he could add to the list. Calza, if he proved trustworthy, though Vance hadn’t yet worked out how to obtain such proof. Another Vulpes, the Magaly girl. He’d heard frank discussion amongst the staff about her capabilities. Hardy was a possibility, albeit a dim one, as well.

Then, of course, there was Sam. The thought of Samuel Halford alone was enough to have Vance grinding his perfect white teeth together. If anyone had betrayed him, it was Sam. He’d spat upon their friendship when Vance had been doing nothing more than reaching out to him- something that he’d never done before, which had only made it all the worse when he wound up with a broken nose for his efforts. The memory caused a thread of hate that had wound around his heart the prior year to glow white hot, stealing the momentum from his thoughts. He hadn’t stopped moving, he realized. He was out in the hallways now, bound for the Great Hall. His current state of mind didn’t allow for such trivialities as hunger, but he felt compelled to finish as much of what he’d started with his invective against Lee and Priscilla… no, really it had started with Bellona… as he could.

He crossed the threshold alone, which was uncommon enough that it might warrant speculation. Usually he’d be flanked by Quodpot teammates with Lee trailing behind. He laid eyes on Sam and felt that white-hot thread tighten, but that vendetta mattered not at all right now. The Ferre was by the bulletin board, which was fortunately nowhere near where Vance was headed: the Arietem table. Ignoring the chorus of withdrawn ‘good morning’s, he crossed to come up behind one of his fellow Seventh Years, a boy named Jacob Slade. ”Slade,” he said brusquely, drawing the other Arietem’s attention from the sausages he was cutting up. As soon as he had eye contact, he let go of yet another burden.

”Congratulations. You’re now captain of the Arietem Quodpot team.” He would have handed the team over to Zachariah, not only out of friendship but because he was twice the player Slade was… but he was only in his Sixth Year. The others wouldn’t have stood for it, especially not with Vance tossing out his social currency in great handfuls. The Arietem table would likely have gone very quiet after that, but Vance didn’t even give them a chance to question his behavior before he moved on.

He skirted around the Cervus table and made his way to Victor. In doing so, he passed by Myra, who was with Pollack and the Harth boy. She seldom failed to look his way when he passed, but if she did this time, it would be different. She’d find herself staring Vance right in those green eyes of his, as if he’d been waiting for her to sneak a glimpse. Vance seldom lacked for intensity, but the girl would note that he seemed… well, off. By the time word of his abrogation had spread about, which would like be the start of the second period, the female twin might begin to wonder what was behind that gaze. Just like that, a strange piece fell into place: she was a twin as well. He’d known it, but never had reason to give it any consideration before. He hardly had any idea why it seemed so important now.

A few more strides brought him to stand before Victor, across the table from him and his dubious toast. ”Calza.” It served the same purpose as announcing himself with Slade’s last name. It was engineered to gain attention, and once he had it, he’d continue. ”I was hoping we might have a few words on the way to Transfiguration.” He didn’t lack in respect for Victor; while it hadn’t precisely been a request, it had quite a bit more subjunctive to it than his usual imperatives. Fortunately, at some point (he hardly knew when, since he hadn’t realized he was doing it in the first place), his gloved hand had grown still. He clasped it with his flesh and blood one at the small of his back. Even derailed as he was, Vance would have a very difficult time unburdening himself of years of poise-training.

Garrett Flint

At Felix Two's question of why he'd come over, Flint gestured with his head in the direction of the Vulpes table, where Victor was currently stewing, and clearly not in a good mood. "Like I said, Ivan the Terrible. He looked like he was about to go all Spetsnaz on his toast, so I figured I'd better clear out. And don't worry," he said in Delilah's direction, "I make only graceful landings. Getting off the ground can be difficult sometimes, but once I'm flying, I'd have to try really hard to crash."

Anyone who flew with him knew that that wasn't necessarily true; he was a bit of a risk taker, after all, and had ended up flat on his face a good amount of times. "And I don't run from drama. Drama runs from me." It sounded pretty dumb to say out loud, but there was actually some truth to it. Flint had never been one to stir up issues, but rather one to make everyone forget them. He liked having that reputation, as someone you could go to and just get away from the crap other people threw at you. As for Victor, Flint was actually quite oblivious that the Calza family was of Italian descent, and not Russian. He simply assumed everyone with the name Viktor (which was how he thought it was spelled) had Russian heritage.

As was normal, Flint soon found himself being slightly swarmed. Bliss was greeting him, and he gave her a friendly wave and a smile, though she seemed busy speaking with Delilah and Rose about their summers, so he didn't say anything to her. Looking around the table, he spotted Emerson chatting with--

"Gah! What the?" Flint said once the grape had flown into his eye. It rolled off the table and out of sight, and Flint found himself shaking his head and blinking his right eye furiously for a few seconds, before he recognized Justin as the source. The idea of starting a food fight on the first morning was awfully tempting, considering the fact that the food just kept appearing on the table, but Justin was speaking to Emerson in what was no doubt a crucially important moment for him. Every moment he spent with Emerson seemed that way, after all.

He caught Summer's eye momentarily when she had come down to join, and gave her a warm smile.

Let's see, what did he have first... Potions, apparently. That wasn't so bad. He'd actually become not so bad with potions, mostly through Justin's influence of course, but he was nowhere near his friend's level. And Hutson was pretty cool. Very easy to get along with.

Victor Calza

Victor performed his coup de grâce on the last bite of toast, he'd been just about to get up and leave this madhouse of a Great Hall when a voice that he didn't find completely irritating reached his ears. He heard his family name called, and then looked up to find Vance Abernathy standing across the table from him. He regarded the Arietem evenly, but not with the glare he leveled at some of the others. He had hoped to speak with Abernathy some time today, and considering that the seventh years would be on their way to Transfiguration this morning, Victor supposed that now was as good a time as any.

"And just when I was beginning to think there wasn't a way for this morning to be turned around," Victor said. Vance had his hands clasped behind his back, so Victor didn't yet see his exquisite glove. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Vance. It seems I can't even have breakfast anymore without being harassed by the holier-than-thou's."

It was perhaps interesting that Victor used the name 'Vance' rather than referring to him by his family name, considering that he did that with most everyone else, save for Teiver and a few others. Personally, he felt that using Abernathy would lump both Vance and his sister into one group, and he'd always liked to think of them as separate. Nevaeh had been dangerous, probably the most dangerous person to work with at the school, and Victor had always respected her intelligence. In fact, he'd been a little wary of her, and questioned whether an alliance of sorts between them would actually be healthy for him. That wasn't to say he hadn't secretly wanted one. Truth be told, he had been attracted by her cunning, but something about her had always stopped him from approaching her. Now he supposed he wouldn't get the chance, as she was far, far away from Magus Grex. Perhaps it was for the best.

Victor rose from the table, and began making his way from the Great Hall, expecting Vance to follow. "I was meaning to find you at some point today. I was held up by family matters yesterday, and was forced to arrive late. I'd hoped to speak with you about how things have changed this year."

#, as written by Korrye

The number of people swarming the Cervus table almost made her uncomfortable. Delilah clung to her mug of tea as if it were her tether to the present. Looking down into her mug she watched as Sam caught sight of something, or more someone and tore off from the Great Hall once more. With his departure she sighed and looked back at Garrett, giving him a sympathetic gaze. He just looked so…hungover. There was no other way to explain it.

"Like I said, Ivan the Terrible. He looked like he was about to go all Spetsnaz on his toast, so I figured I'd better clear out. And don't worry," he told her. The comment made her shake her head with a chuckle. "I make only graceful landings. Getting off the ground can be difficult sometimes, but once I'm flying, I'd have to try really hard to crash."

If she was worried about him making a crash landing, it was more a fear of him throwing up or passing out into a bowl of oatmeal. Delilah judged he was near tired enough to and she didn’t know the boy well enough to feel comfortable helping him with a cure to his disheveled look.

"And I don't run from drama. Drama runs from me," he announced. Sipping her tea, she shrugged. As she swallowed she tilted her chin down and to the left, batting her lashes with a knowing smile. “The quiet ones are always those you have to worry about most because eventually they’re the ones in the middle,” she said, raising her eyebrows and stabbing her pancakes with a fork to continue eating. As she swallowed another mouthful she was forced to nearly choke on her food as Bliss pushed through to their little group. “Rose!” the Vulpes shouted. Shoved forward into her plate Delilah dropped her fork, nearly choking on her mouthful crudely. Banging a fist onto her chest she forced herself to smile, clearing her throat.

"Oh my gosh, it's you!" Bliss shrieked. Delilah rolled her eyes at her friend, leaning into Bliss’ hug and wrapping one arm around her shoulder in return. The redhead settled beside Rose and Delilah picked up her plate to shuffle down the bench. Picking up her mug of tea she watched as a clean place setting emerged for the Vulpes. Ah magic.

"I've missed the two of you!" she said, but her eyes wandered beyond them both. Delilah coughed lowly to herself before responding. "Me too!" As she moved to grab her fork a stray grape bounced onto her place. As she looked up Garrett was recoiling and Delilah couldn’t help but cast her eyes down the table in search of the culprit. Setting her fork down in defeat, the blond figured it wasn’t worth it to try and eat breakfast when so much was going on.

"I swear I thought I missed breakfast. I couldn't stop dreaming last night. My mind is not rested enough for first day of class," Bliss elaborated, grabbing a bagel as Delilah clung to her mug. If someone pushes this out of my hands, so help me God,” she thought lowly as their friend acknowledged the other Vulpes runaway seated at their table.

"You were talking about your summer?” Bliss asked her excitedly. "How was it?" The thought made her purse her lips. As she went to speak her eyes caught sight of Felix Fletcher entering the Great Hall. The Ferre student looked restless even from across the way. Delilah frowned and wondered if he saw the Dueling Club poster and what he thought of it. She made a mental note to track him down later.

“My summer was spent waiting for a message that never came, and sending messages to a person who didn’t want to receive them,” Delilah announced. She knew her friends would understand what she meant. They had all thought Sam was cute and right for her. Sometimes people aren’t who you expect them to be.

“You missed our fight this morning. Seems like only the keeners were awake, thankfully. I only got in on the boat today. My mother decided it was time to visit her family and that she couldn’t wait to leave. We had to drive her into South Carolina yesterday,” she added.

As she spoke, she caught sight of Bliss’ sister. “Speaking of Summers,” Delilah smiled. "Good morning everyone. Sleep good?" Summer asked. The Brunette didn’t seem pleased to find her sister in their midst. Delilah could only lick her lips and sip her tea again. The mug was close to empty so she reached to refill it. Rose greeted their mutual friend and Delilah sighed, her eyes moving from beyond their table and across the way to spy none other than Vance Abernathy speaking to Victor. She couldn’t help but blush, seeing him again for the first time since the fight. It was almost embarrassing. Even as she looked at him now she could see him then, the way he looked all focused and brilliant.

As post arrived she saw Screech weave her way through the owls, dropping a letter into her lap. The owl perched for a moment by Lloyd’s cat. Stroking the barn owl on the side of her head, Delilah bit her tongue and clucked at it to ask her to wait. As she pulled open the letter she knew it was from her father. Tucked with it was the latest paper.

Tearing off the back of the envelope from her father, she pulled a standard pencil from her robe pocket. While most people liked quills, she couldn’t be bothered to carry one another with her at all times. Elegantly she wrote out a simple message before tucking it in her owl’s claw. Flicking her off the cup, Screech circled the hall before passing over the two pureblood boys and dropping the note between Victor and Vance. Her handwriting was elegant and signed with her last name. She knew he’d know it.

Or Ivan the Terrible as Garrett now calls you, do you still have that copy of the Updated Counter-Curse Handbook (Second Revised Edition) from the library? Going to bring it back anytime soon?

#, as written by throne
Lyle Brightham – Elated!

So, well, really, Lyle had no idea what Demetrio was saying for the longest time. Parts of it were in Spanish, a language that his knowledge of was more or less expressed in the words taco and burrito, for starters. Then there was the fact that Demetrio seemed to be saying more than he was actually saying. Lyle was really just looking for a yes or no, and there were so many lines to read between. Finally, there was the fact that for what was possibly the first time ever, Demetrio was touching someone, and that someone happened to be him. Lyle was no stranger to affection. In fact, his ambush-hugs were legendary, and more than a few of his “bromances” got occasionally awkward when he forgot about that pesky personal space thing people were always going on about.

As far as he could remember, though, Demetrio had always shirked from contact, even high-fives or fist bumps or the like. It wasn’t bad or anything. Lyle had a rudimentary understanding that some people didn’t like to be touched. It was one of those things he really didn’t get- he never could have actually explained why someone might not like it- but that he abided by anyway, like the fact that the sky was blue because of nitrogen. He couldn’t help but wonder what had changed between all the times Demetrio had left him hanging and now, but really, he didn’t mind. It was nice. Friendly. Maybe a little unprofessional, given their interviewer and interviewee status, but, hey. They were just kids.

Then Demetrio slapped him. Lyle’s eyes grew very wide. It hadn’t hurt at all of course, but, well, he’d slapped him. Demetrio didn’t seem angry though, or even upset. In fact, he seemed pretty happy. His mouth opened to question the action, but at that exact instant, it occurred to him that the meandering dual-language response was, in essence, a yes. And he’d called Lyle amigo! He knew that one, it meant friend!

”I say that you’re the best, Demetrio! And, um, yeah, that’s a good idea! The asking question things. I was gonna do that anyway, but, I’m glad you um, like it. Haha.” He beamed, and almost wrapped the poor Cervus in one of his fierce little hugs. He managed to restrain himself, though, if only because he’d so recently been considering the other boy’s aversion to touch. He was so excited he didn’t notice the tear at all. In fact, he might not have noticed if Demetrio had grown a reptilian tail and used it to juggle cats. He was already thinking up questions!

”So, oh, we have class soon, we better get in and eat real fast. But um, for starters, can you describe the troll for me? I really want a good picture in my head for when I write about it. It’s too bad Naire wasn’t there, he could have gotten a picture!” And probably wound up in the infirmary; this did not occur to Lyle, though. He started a Sorkin-walk into the dining area, leading Demetrio to the Cervus table, because that, apparently, was where everyone was going to wind up this morning.

Justin Hardy – Pretty Fly for a Jedi

Justin narrowed his eyes on Emerson when he wondered if the long parcel might be his gift, pretty much confirming, of course, that it was. It was mostly playful. The eye-narrowing, that is. He didn’t figure Emerson for the sort to go and ruin a present, but it did annoy him mildly that he’d mentioned it when it was sitting right there. With anyone else, he wouldn’t have said anything, but for some reason his usual cunning seemed to run in spurts around Em. It worked fine when he was flattering, flirting, or joking… but try as he might, his ability to lie or even bend the truth with him was just pathetic. It was a minor miracle that he’d managed to convince the goofball that he didn’t still think about him naked at least twenty times a day. He wasn’t even sure he had convinced him, and Emerson was just being nice and ignoring it.

He lifted a hand, waving it in front of Em’s face. ”These are not the gifts you are looking for. You don’t need to see my identification.”* Grinning in a manner that he hoped was impish, he secretly melted a little inside at the nudging and then looked down the table at Flint when Emerson mentioned the Betterbeer. ”Ah, yeah. We had a little soirée. You know. Stupid stuff. I’m pretty sure I mooned an owl. Definitely a success, though. But you know what they say. What happens in the sixth year Vulpes boy’s dorm stays in the sixth year Vulpes boy’s down.” He shrugged non-committal, keeping a straight face despite the obvious fact that no one had ever compared the bookish House’s tower to Las Vegas, ever, before that very moment.

He nodded understanding when Em explained his gift wasn’t ready. Even if he was capable at being mad at the boy, it would have been downright hypocritical, given the finishing touches he still needed to put on the parcel leaning to his left. ”Ah, I understand only too well.” He shook a fist in the air (believe it or not, in more or less the same direction as the American Ministry’s offices), contorting his features into an expression of profound anguish. ”Damn you, Trace!” It was no secret that Justin had spent an inordinate amount of time the past three summers trying to work out a way to shake the magical monitoring spell that had been ruining his life since the day he realized he could make a profit doing magic. He’d worked out an arrangement with a local wizard of somewhat shady repute back in Salem, wherein Justin would instruct him and supervise him in some moderate Potions work so he didn’t fall too far behind in his production schedule, but really, it was the principle of the thing that bothered him. That and the many, many Galleons he was wasting paying the guy off for wand-work he could easily have been doing himself.

He cocked an eyebrow when Lyle and Demetrio passed them, and in doing so noticed something… what was the pure unadulterated evil version of “auspicious”, again? Calamitous? Dastardly? He wasn’t sure. He probably could have filled an entire parchment roll with ill-omen words relating to what he was watching. Vance Abernathy and Victor Calza. Talking. In what seemed to be a friendly way.

”Nothing good can come of this,” he muttered. It probably seemed to come out of nowhere, at least to Emerson, but he’d probably figure out what his friend was referring to when he noticed Justin trying to either murder them with his eyes or eavesdrop over the breakfast din. Maybe he was attempting to read lips? Anything was possible. Whatever the case, he’d have to keep an eye on that particular unholy alliance, especially after the altercation earlier.

He noticed Felix across the room as well, and frowned. It didn’t take much more than a glimpse to tell something was amiss. Probably not the ideal time to ask him to help him win Em’s undying love, but, he’d have to hook up with him later anyway and see what was up. Something about his utter disconnection with the room around him led Justin to believe that he wasn’t quite ready to spill about whatever it was just yet. Maybe by lunch time.

He returned his attention to Emerson, favoring him with an apologetic smile for his lapse in attention. He quickly ran through the last few lines of their conversation, then resumed it. ”You always were inexplicably good with Charms, so I’m guessing it will turn out great. I bet my roommates will find it perfectly annoying… and really, there’s no greater gift you could give me than that.”

*Reason #214 that Justin is madly in love with Emerson- Even though he’s from a Wizarding family, he gets most of his pop culture references.

Vance Abernathy - <insert Game of Thrones opening music here>

For the first time in months, something was actually going right. Vance did well to conceal his surprised gratitude when Victor simply welcomed him, complimented him, even indicated an interest in discussion. He nodded sympathetically at the mention of family matters. The Vulpes’ final sentence seemed to ring in his ears. I’d hoped to speak with you about how things have changed this year. Victor didn’t know the half of it. Though of course, perhaps, he did. He had half a mind to ask him if he’d received any missives from his grandfather, but Victor would have just lied adeptly, tired though he seemed. It would gain him nothing and expose more than he dared. He really needed to give some earnest thought toward obtaining some Veritaserum.

There coming together was interrupted by an owl, dropping off a note for Victor. Vance would simply stand by if he decided to read it; again, his respect for the other seventh year extended far enough that he didn’t expect the abject deference he’d once garnered from his lesser. Or if Victor simply stowed it for later perusal, more the better.

”That’s what I was hoping to speak with you about as well,” he replied once they were underway. His trained strides would of course bring him a half-pace ahead of Victor, which meant that he’d now be able to get a very good look at the dragon-skin glove encasing his artificial right hand. ”I hope you’ll forgive me a somewhat awkward question, but it’s been a trying morning already and I haven’t the patience for anything more clever.”

A glance about the hallway. Who was in earshot? Were any of his grandfather’s puppets keeping tabs on him? Did it even matter, when he was engaged in a fairly intimate tete-a-tete with someone who very well might be one of those puppets, right now? Satisfied at least that Victor was the only one he needed to worry about presently, he continued.

”How much can I trust you, Calza?” He turned his head, looking back at his fellow pureblood. ”It occurs to me that I really have no idea what you want, and by that token, no idea what I can expect from you. It’s an unusual experience for me, I assure you.” It was utterly devoid of pretense; the same blunt honesty he’d exhibited in his own common area earlier, motivated by the same disinterest in intrigue that had led to his casting off of his Quodpot robes. ”You might say that I’m reorganizing my priorities this year, and that I’ll require the aid of a certain caliber of student.” No pleasantries. No talk of their summers. He wasn’t interested, and didn’t want the shrewd Vulpes becoming interested in his. Not yet, anyway.

Victor Calza

An owl swooped by, dropping a note at Victor's feet. Victor had half a mind to simply light it on fire and walk away, considering the possibility that it could be from Justin, a pointless attempt to humiliate him or perhaps state his intentions to prove that he was up to no good. However, he thought he recognized the owl that had dropped it off, and it certainly wasn't Justin's pitiful little creature. He scooped up the note, reading the message. Noire. Delilah was perhaps the only member of House Cervus that he was even remotely interested in, due to their unnaturally frequent run-ins at the library. Victor half-believed the girl was purposely running into him, trying to catch his eye. Whatever her intent was, he did still have the book she was after. Perhaps he'd do something about that. But later. He folded up the note and slid it into his pocket. He had business to attend to now, and then class. He excelled at Transfiguration, and had always found Professor Ryther to be much more tolerable than the majority of her House.

How much can I trust you, he says. He sounds like my father. At least he has reason to not trust me.

Victor couldn't help but think of his father's words, and how similar they had been, not two days ago. He was convinced it had something to do with his placement in Vulpes House and not Arietem. The last Calza to end up in a House other than Arietem had been a distant relative of his, more than fifty years ago. His father probably thought Victor lacked the drive, the ambition to properly contribute as a Calza should. He'd prove him wrong in time.

But Vance Abernathy wasn't his father, and he didn't have any reason to trust Victor. The fact that he was asking for help at all was interesting, though. Vance didn't seem the type. Perhaps Nevaeh being gone weakened his position, though Victor had assumed that with her absence Vance would only receive further attention, and his command over his House would strengthen. He appreciated Vance's directness, however, lack of patience or no. Victor wasn't interested in going into his own misgivings about his summer, and he was sure Vance felt similarly. Something had obviously occurred within the Abernathy household, to warrant a change of school during a student's seventh and final year. It wasn't common in the slightest.

"Trust is... a difficult thing," Victor said, speaking quietly, not out of fear of people overhearing him, but because that was just the way he talked. Some would see it as simply respectful, keeping voices low in the halls. Victor would call it being discreet. If everyone was used to you being quiet, no one thought strangely of it when being quiet was necessary. "Personally, I'd say it's safer if we both agree to not trust each other. One thing that you can trust, however, is that I'm not looking to make any more enemies, least of all out of you. I've got enough of those from the righteous crowd already." Ivan the Terrible. He'd have to thank Delilah for delivering that one to him. It was indeed nice to know what the others spoke behind your back.

"That said, I wouldn't be against assisting a sensible person such as yourself, so long as you would be willing to return the favor, should I need it. What I want will remain my own business, for now, and of course, I'll not pry as to why it is you're asking for my help."

Victor certainly understood the value of having someone indebted to you, and calling in a favor from Vance Abernathy was certainly something he wouldn't mind having the ability to do. And so long as he wasn't demanding anything too outrageous, Victor didn't see why he should outright refuse to work with him. As he had said, he wasn't looking to make any enemies.