On this particular rainy day, the lunch table that Vincent sat down at to quietly enjoy his lunch was both empty and a bit more shiny and glazed than the surrounding tables in the cafeteria. The red eyed boy paid no mind to his environment, as it was the first empty table that he could find without further wandering around looking for the proverbial perfect spot. To this, he was content. He didn't want to talk to anyone anyway today.

Vincent slid his large frame into a seat as he placed his tray down with one hand and carefully unslung his his satchel down into the unoccupied seat next to his. He retreated into his quiet space in the world as he opened up his Theory textbook and began reading the passages that Professor Moore had directed him to read after yesterday's class.

He absentmindedly took his fork and ate a scoop of mashed potatoes as he continued to read, blocking out the loud clamour of all the loudly gossiping and laughing students in the tables around him. Unfortunately though, Vincent had unknowingly sat in a certain someones' usual spot. Depending on the reaction of the usual occupants, he was in for a rude interruption.

(( Squeeeee~! ))

Nauleth enjoyed the weekends—he didn't have to wear his clocking uniform and he could go back to bed after lunch if he wanted to. Tocks, he could sleep through lunch if he really wanted to. However, sleeping until lunch was an acceptable enough compromise, so that's exactly what the dark-eyed boy did. Despite the rain, he was contentedly without a jacket or even a vest, shirt unimpressively half untucked from his trousers in irreverent contrast to his suspenders and tied-back hair. He'd come armed with some homework in the bag slung over his shoulder, yet Naul was confident he'd left his motivation to actually crack open his grimiores on his pillow back in the dorm.

He yawned his way through the lunch line, wishing it was still breakfast instead. It had been a strange week; some of it mind-boggling, some of it rather rough around the edges. A quiet meal on a lazy ninth surely had to be a good way to wind do—

Naul scowled as he neared his prized location in the corner of the Cafeteria, sharp eyebrows drawing together lopsidedly above his aquiline nose. There were very few tall, albino students wandering the halls of Brunnhold, so he was not without a clue as to who was so carelessly invading claimed territory. Setting his tray down unceremoniously across from the not unfamiliar Vincent with a hint of purposeful force and huffing a few loose strands of white-streaked bangs from his face, he cleared his throat.

Speaking above the din of earlier risers already enjoying their lunch, Nauleth allowed his tone to carry his usual haughtiness, "Even though I'll admit you look rather comfortable, I hate to inform you that this particular table is invitation-only."

He'd paid for it, after all, but only because he'd been the one to set it on fire in the first place.

Athrym had spent her morning reading, laying in bed, patting the little kitten of Alisoina's and reading. The book she had was about the Gioran method of casting, and it was fascinating. How they used the echos of the canyon's to boost their spells was amazing. Marking her page and closing the book, the half gioran stared at the osta, stroking him as she considered where she could possibly get a similar reaction. Somewhere that echoed in Brunnhold. The chruch echoed. As did the crypts. Curious.

Getting out of bed with a stretch, she realised it was lunchtime, with a frown. Nauleth hadn't even come to get her for lunch. The wedge between them, a secret he was unable to tell her about, was painful. She felt hurt and worried, and distanced from him. Naul had his own personal secret, that she was not part of. It wasn't him and her. It was him. And her. Swallowing back the sudden swell of depression that grabbed her at that thought, eyes stinging with tears she didn't want, the blonde pulled her wardrobe open angrily and snatched her favorite blue dress. Pulling it on, she clasped it together behind her neck, ensuring the two monite ensribed ribbons were smooth before clasping the blue jeweled belt around her hips. Slipping on the fingerless gloves and white boots, she turned to mirror and brushed her hair. It was getting longer, past her shoulders. Carmell would be happy.

Leaving the dorm, after ensuring the window was shut so Lesiant wouldn't escape, she made her way to the cafeteria, determined not to get upset if Nauleth was there. Walking with a confident stride, she entered the cafe, blonde hair hiding what makeup couldn't of her ugly black eye from the 16th. It had faded a lot, but it still was there, a yellow and green mess. Walking first to the food spread, she quickly gathered a tray, soft bread and some warm pumpkin soup. Carrying it, she made her way towards the familiar table. As she got closer, she frowned a little. Nauleth was there, standing on one side of the table, glaring at someone else. A tall, rather burly student. She sighed, another one.

Looking the boy over as she got closer, she noticed the skin she could see was incredibly pale. The hair on his head was as white as her own mothers. He was older than herself and Naul, that much was clear. Albino. She slowed, frown dissapating. Gioran. Something in the girl felt a twinge of kinship. She had seen the boy around the school before, but until recently, she hadn't much paid attention or cared. Now, the link to her background...it stirred something.

Picking up her pace, she approached the table on the same side as Naul, placing her tray down lightly.



Sliding into her chair, she glanced from Naul to the gioran boy. Lifting her spoon, she shrugged.

"I believe Angus sent out invites Nauleth. You should ask your friend about that." She said in a low voice, implying she was still annoyed about Angus' little stunt. Looking back at the red eyed boy, she found her inner circle peg. She smiled, a little.

"I think I've seen you around here. Maybe? On the Lawn?" Her tone was light, almost friendly.

Vincent was onto the fifth page of his reading homework. At that point, the text was starting to become really fascinating, like a good buildup to a stunning climax in a book. He was so engrossed that he didn't notice Nauleth until...



The large albino blinked. But he was getting to the most interesting part! Why is it that people tried to talk to him precisely when he did not want to be spoken to? Such is life, he thought warily. He only just closed the book when his brain caught up with who was talking to him in the first place. He glanced up, regarding his rival in dueling and interrupter of study.

"Siordanti," he inclined his head. No friendliness, but all the same there was no sense in not being polite with that simple gesture.

"I must have missed the memo," he said sardonically. "If you wish for me to leave, I-"



Vincent's offer to leave without fuss dropped flat. This was Nauleth's fiance. She had cast upon...Werthing, Warthing? The cheerful boy that was talking to her right before he was hit, whatever his name was. She was probably referring to him. At the time, he was busy eating as fast as was publicly polite, eager to escape to his room for some extra study; and so he only witnessed the aftermath of the apparent quarrel. What a clocking mess that was.

He didn't want to be embroiled in something similar, from either of them. He wanted to busy himself with studying and catching up on sleep today...



Looks like the red eyed boy was going to be staying for lunch, it seemed.

"That would not be unlikely. I do on occasion conduct some of my more...destructive projects on the Lawn."

He remembered her somewhat, even before her being "Nauleth's fiance". They definitely had to have shared a class or two together at some point or another. Or maybe they passed by each other in the Stacks. There was even a rumor or two about her, but then who didn't have wild things about themselves circulating the gossip circles of Brunnhold? It hardly mattered at this point, but for some reason he still couldn't remember her name. Might as well be polite if they don't want me to go away, he supposed.

"I apologize, but I presently cannot recall your name Miss...?"

((Feel free to put in an interruption to the end of that. ))

Naul's expression had steadily turned into something incredulous and frustrated, hands gripping the tabletop as he tilted his head in Athrym's direction, not bothering to let Vincent finish his question, "What do you mean invitations?"

He scowled lopsidedly, tone of voice far from friendly, "Just a few days ago you clocking made a mess of things over who was sitting here, and now you're telling me you don't care?"

Turning to the older, taller albino, he did his best not to sneer, unconcerned about how blatantly he was about to speak for the blonde, though he might have considered briefly that there might be consequences., "Neither myself nor Miss Bruthgrave particularly require your presence for lunch."

Nauleth did eye Vincent's book in a studious, slightly curious sort of way, "I'm sure there are plenty of other agreeable places to study besides this one."

It wasn't really that he disliked the boy—they shared a specialization, several classes, and similar hobbies. There were very few other students he'd come to respect on the Lawn, but that was hardly the point. This lunch table had become a matter of principle, really, and nothing personal. Compromising now would just lead to more unfortunate social problems later and Naul just wasn't adept enough to deal with such things.

Vincent was certainly not someone that actively got involved in quarrels, especially one between lovers; and he certainly had no interest in changing that trend this late in life. He was disappointed with how pointedly rude Siordanti was acting, but then he probably had present reasons for such thing. In the current situation, he had to agree with the younger, dark eyed boy: today, he will have to finish his lunch elsewhere. I knew how personal spaces were for everyone.

He carefully packed away his unfinished reading assignment and slung his satchel over his shoulder as he took up to his towering full height, easily dwarfing any nearby students with present company included.

"It would seem that I have intruded on more than one's personal table," he sighed lightly in his cello voice. He began to turn to walk away with his tray still in his hands. "Please notify me if I am ever welcome back."

He could tell something was going on between the other boy and the girl. Whatever it was, it was probably serious and it frankly made Vincent uncomfortable to be a voyeur into these kinds of interpersonal conflicts. The sooner he left, the better.

Angus had been sitting nearby, at another table, with other aquaintances but he had heard Nauleth's voice when it rose. He recognised Vincent, since they had attended the same classes before and Angus wasn't bad with names. He frowned as the other boy stood. It wasn't his place but... It made him uncomfortable.

"Vincent?" He said, as though they were old friends and not just passingly aware of each other. "Good to see you old boy. Have you a moment?"

He was trying to make it look as though Vincent hadn't been rejected and Angus was taking pity as a result. He waved and smiled, not showing too many teeth that day. He didn't want Nauleth and Athrym to think it was pointed either. Their embarrassment was something he wished to avoid.

He was aiming for a social equilibrium, where no one gained or lost status just by sitting at one table and not another.

Smiling a little more, the student opened her mouth to speak, but caught Nauleth's glare and abrupt interuption. Her mouth stayed open for a moment, eyes narrowing coldly as she glared back at her fiance. Didn't he want her to fit in, a time and place for everything and all that clocking rubbish!?



Closing her mouth with a frown, Athrym stood, facing the angry boy.

"Miss Bruthgrave can speak for herself, thankyou very much Mister Siordanti." Turning to Vincent, she raised an eyebrow.

"He's right. There are far more agreeable places to study, Mister Siordanti knows more than even myself." Her tone was laced with ice and hurt, refering to his Secret. Taking a breath, angrily forcing away the stinging tears threatening her, she smiled wanely at the gioran.

"Perhaps-"



Pursing her lips, the blonde rolled her eyes to Naul with displeasure. She truly wanted to talk to the gioran. She wanted to know more about her mother's place of origion. Her own background.



Closing her eyes briefly, the student sighed and looked over at Angus. At least the gioran wouldnt be far away.

"Thankyou Naul." She muttered angrily, sitting down again and taking up her spoon.

And there he is. That Angus kid. Vincent was obviously not the type to overly get out much, since he now recognized Angus since he could see him up close. He also shared classes with him. So much for a quiet getaway for an afternoon of study. Curious as to why Angus would just out of the blue invite him over when they barely knew each other, he decided to just go along with it.

He closed his slanted eyes as he half-bowed to Nauleth and Athrym.
"If you would kindly excuse me," and with that he casually strode over to an empty seat right next to the younger boy.

He took a moment to sit back down, deliberately arranging his food and satchel in their proper places in relation to himself. After that was done was when he turned his attention to the brunette who called him over.

"Good afternoon. Is there something that can do for you?"

"Not really." Angus replied, pausing to take a bite of pasta. "You can eat your lunch, if you want."

Angus sat back and sighed, as though the food he had been give was the finest he had ever tasted. It was rather good but it wasn't as though he was a connoisseur. He was just learning to appreciate days where the food on his plate made its way into his mouth without issue.

"Isn't food wonderful?" Angus announced, looking at a piece of beef on his fork. "I'm Angus, by the way, in case we have not previously been formally aquainted. I'd shake your hand but I don't want Nauleth to think I'm stealing his friends. Clever fellow. His fiancee is as well. Although she's clearly not a fellow."

He took another bite and chewed and swallowed and looked at Vincent.

Vincent's white eyebrows shot up slightly. This one was awfully straightforward. He considered his plate of chicken and half-eaten mashed potatoes, still a little hungry. He scooped another mouthful of potatoes to his mouth. The gravy that accompanied it today was excellent.



"I can't disagree with Nauleth's cleverness. He is among the few that I have had trouble with in a duel. Admittedly though, this was before the incident of his brailing. I expect from him in the two years since we have fought that he is even stronger and more resourceful at this point."

A shadow of a smile flit across his face, gone within the next instant, at the memory. That was a good fight.

"It's impolite to mention the mishaps of others in casual conversation." Angus replied, his voice turning cool for a moment.

It wasn't done to mention such an event as a brail over the table. Especially since it could be such a shaming event. In Nauleth's case the damage, both physical and social, had been catastrophic. Angus was not sure that his increased strength was worth it, when he did not yet seem to be entirely healed from his experiences.

"He is a very resourceful duelist though, I must admit." Angus continued, after his pause, warmth renewing itself. He wasn't one to stay angry, even if he did find it difficult to stop defending Naul, even when he wasn't sure if the other boy felt as strongly about him. "He and Athrym are two of the best in the school. Are you planning on duelling him sometime soon? I don't know if Naul participates in friendly matches."

He truly wasn't but he did know that Naul was loath to turn anyone down. Angus had never seen the attraction to duelling. He had heard it was good for your reflexes.

Vincent shook his head slightly, frowning.
"I would like to point out that everyone fails at some point. I have been there, and I don't doubt you have as well. I was not making light of such a serious event, I only used it as an important point of reference. I hope that you know that I meant no harm or offense."



The large albino sat back in his chair, relaxing slightly as he bit into a slice of chicken breast. He chewed for a few moments before continuing.
"The fact that I do duel does not mean I always spoil for a fight. I used to, but not so much anymore. I'm too busy. However, I do not turn down anyone who challenges me. If he wants to duel, then I would be willing to accept. If not, that hardly matters to me," he shrugged his expansive shoulders.

He leaned in a bit towards Angus, showing an interest in him; for the moment at least, if studying could not be done.
"So tell me something. How did you become mixed up with the pair?"

((Oooh! Gimme a day, be on this!))

"You don't have to sit with me at all if you don't want to. It doesn't matter." Naul lied, still standing, knuckles white on the tabletop. Sure, he'd understood there would be consequences for his choice in taking Professor Lux up on her offer of a secret, dangerous class, but he hadn't thought they'd be like this. He'd tried to explain the best he could. He'd come up with a harmless enough cover. Yet Athrym insisted on being jealous instead of accepting, as if he was doing something inexplicably worse. He really wasn't.

He really had no idea that it would be so bad. At least not right away. Everything had gone so well over break, and coming back had been ... nice. Very nice.

The dark-eyed boy sighed, looking down at his tray. He had a choice to make. He considered just leaving, just going back to his dorm and pretending nothing happened. It wouldn't really solve anything, but it was easy. He strayed from his tray to the table, still so much brighter than the surrounding tables, and then looked to Athrym with an almost imperceptible softening to his expression. He did love the blonde, did very much intend to marry her, but, clocking hell this was ridiculous.

His other choice was much harder, and he swallowed hard as his fingers reluctantly drifted to his tray, "I'm sorry. I thought I understood what you wanted, considering what happened last time. I didn't think that I was saying anything wrong or against your wishes, really." Naul lifted his tray from the table after adjusting the satchel on his shoulder, face lopsidedly revealing his personal difficulty with his decision, "We can still sit with them if that's so important to you."

Or, really, he could still just leave. He wasn't really sure he could actually change tables. Even just once. It was a strangely big deal he was confident no one would understand and everyone would think him ridiculous for feeling so odd about. He stood there expectantly instead of saying anything else.

Pouting into her soup, the blonde sighed, shaking her head.

"Gods no, I don't want to change tables. Sit down Naul." Her voice was still edging on annoyed, but the anger had disspersed from it. Looking up at him, she tilted her head for him to sit.

"I'm not angry that you want to chase him off, for me. I just...I'm trying to be sociable, and be...circular." She shook her head at her own analogy and shrugged, glancing over at Vincent.

"Besides, I kind of wanted to talk to him, because he's Gioran. I've been reading the books from my mothers library, but to talk with a person nearly my age about it...a person clearly from there...would be nice."

Nauleth didn't sit, convinced he should probably just suck things up and make something (anything) better, "You know, you could just explain things instead of getting mad about it. If you want to ask questions, come on. We only have to sit there once."

He did loath the idea, but somewhere in the back of his mind he'd convinced himself that Athrym was most likely worth the sacrifice of territorial pride the entire event was requiring of him, "He's not a stranger. We share the same focus. Vincent's not bad on the Lawn, either. Besides, we might as well give Angus another scare because we can."

The boy offered a lop-sided grin, not entirely half-hearted but obviously cautious, "You'll just have to be sociable for both of us."

Shaking her head, Athrym glanced over at Angus and the gioran.

"No, I really don't think thats a good idea. Angus...I should probably apologize or something. I hate to admit it, but I feel a bit clocking bad about the other day. However," She said, lifting her chin.

"I won't go groveling in front of someone else. It's just embarassing." Glancing up at him, she smiled a little.

"Please, just sit with me. I couldn't very well say 'Naul, don't kill this one, I need to talk with him.', could I? He would have still run away."

Naul hovered for a breath or two, frowning now that his willingness to risk being open had been somewhat shot down. A few angry thoughts flickered through his mind, mostly centered about how clocking confusing the opposite sex was and why he'd clocking thought he could actually stay sane and marry one. Then, he sighed, knowing well enough despite his frustration, and sat down.

"Fine." He grumbled, staring forlornly at his lunch, "But you need to make up your mind—social or not? I mean, it's a little hectic not knowing how to feel about who shows up at our table one lunch to the next. First you get angry and now you'd rather have talked to them."

He poked at his food, hungry but without the same appetite as he'd first wandered into the Cafeteria after nearly twelve hours of sleep with,

"Which is it? Which do you want from me?"

"What is meant and what is are often disparate, my friend. I appreciate your sentiment." Angus replied, bowing his head to indicate that his words, while not entirely in keeping with polite conversation, were well-intended.



"Said like a true duelist." Angus said with a smirk and a cocked brow. "As for the pair, I'm hardly mixed with them both. I think the society pages would riot if I did. I'm not that enlightened."

Angus paused to laugh, knowing he had carried Vincent's words to an entirely improper conclusion. He was a young man. It was his prerogative to be inappropriate when he could get away with it.

"Nauleth and I are friends." He continued. "I've known him since I started Brunnhold but we don't share the same social circle on a usual day. A few years ago we were both going through a contemplative phase and I made efforts to speak with him. He's very funny."

Angus had been sad and broken-hearted at the time. He'd become quiet and in his quiet he had begun to notice things he normally did not, people he normally did not. Nauleth's brail had been the talk of the dorm when it happened and of course Angus had heard all about it. About Nauleth's angry nature and his father and being overlooked for someone else's son.

So, Angus had talked to him and found him angry and abrasive and everything he'd been told he would be. But also witty and clever and ahead of his time. He saw differently than Angus did and it had been a revelation. Nauleth was one of the closest friends Angus had, probably the closest, though they fought like a cat and a dog. Their personalities were such that when they weren't bosom companions, sitting companionably side by side, they were at war. Angus was annoying and obsessed with clothes, completely distracted from friendship when courting. Nauleth had a tongue that could cut the stoniest of mental defense.

And Vincent did not need to know that. Angus kept it to himself. He did not know if Nauleth would value other people knowing that he was more personable than he looked, some of the time.

"Athrym's not a bad duelist herself, if you're wondering. Favours living magic." This was code for liking the spell Pain. "I met her when Naul sp... Introduced her to me. I'm probably a bit too vapid for them on a bad day."

So, he'd seen her a bit naked. It wasn't as though he'd been sober enough to really remember it vividly. Yet another thing Vincent didn't need to know.

Athrym stirred her soup as he sat down, counting to ten silently. She wanted to rant at him, to tell him how she was loosing this little battle to fit in with the rest of the class, but she didn't want to fight with him anymore. She hated fighting with him. Taking a deep breath, and letting it out with a sigh and a smile, she looked over at him.

"I want you to be who you are, and not worry about me. I'm just...having...a moment. Social, be social, it seems to be what I'm meant to do. Besides, mother will be sending out invites and the sort in the near future. If I manage to scare away the school population, it would be a particularly dismall turn out."

The only time I could imagine Nauleth as 'contemplative' is with what transpired those years ago, Vincent thought passingly. The red eyed boy wondered what made the talkative boy in front of him clam up around that same time. Whatever it was, it was a story for another time of the other party's volition.

Just as he loathed talking or even hearing about his father, so too did others have topics of personal taboo. The last time someone to hurt him with the rumors regarding him, his father, and their relationship found out very quickly just how awful of an idea that was. Vincent only punched the instigator once. One solid, well-placed fist always did wonders for situations of decisive nature.



He had vaguely picked up on the innuendo, but decided not to comment on that particular. He was still reserving final judgment on Athrym for the time being.

"I hardly think that you are vapid," and he sincerely meant it. "However, it is unfortunate that you apparently got caught in the crossfire."

The spellcasting in the cafeteria three days ago had come to mind. Vincent frowned slightly at the memory. That Soundwave looked like it had hurt.

"Because I clocking care what the rest of the school thinks of us." Nauleth grumbled, still looking toward his food. A small wedding suited him just fine, but he had to remind himself that the nuptial event was hardly about him. It was, as far as he'd concluded, was definitely a social event centered around the bride. He could live with that, even if it meant crowds of people who'd never been interested in his existence until that ceremonial moment. In his mind, that was clocking annoying.

"I don't understand what your moment is about, though." He admitted, perhaps a little concerned that this had something to do with their engagement or ... other things, "I can't just not worry about you; that would be clocking improper of a real fiance, don't you think?"

The dark-eyed boy paused, expression only slightly cheeky, though he was obviously sincere. He paused to eat a few bites, adding quietly once he was finished, " I don't have a problem with you being yourself, but sometimes it feels like you're not sure who that is. I hope that's not my fault."

Angus laughed, perhaps a little more strongly than the reply called for. He believed Vincent to be kind. Angus had yet to meet a person that did not consider him to be vain, at least to some capacity. Angus didn't know if he was as bad as all that but he was no philosopher. He tried not to be afraid of the thought that plumbing his depths would reveal a wading pool.

"I was rather annoyed at the time myself." He admitted. "It would be a lie to say I'm entirely pleased now! I should have known better, it's not as though Athrym is entirely unknown to me."

Angus took another bite of his bread, then slurped at his glass of water. He seemed to revel in his moments of gracelessness. There was so much to live up to, in their sheltered school and beyond it. Angus liked to buck against the idea that he could not be a proper member of society without adequate knowledge of how to use a salad fork (for salad, obviously).

"What of yourself? I see you know when to walk away from a table. I envy you your foresight." He said, truthfully.