Today, Vincent allowed himself the rare treat of sleeping in three whole hours as opposed to his usual time at 10 o'clock. He figured that since he had put extra time into his homework, it would be all right if only just for today. Dressed in a very loosely done uniform, he had picked up breakfast and holed himself in the library for several hours. He only bothered to come out when his stomach made a persuasive argument against skipping lunch.

After an extended lunch consisting of pork, turkey, and pie, he finally emerged from a secluded corner in the cafeteria; leaving for the Science sector. He had some light business there before he would bury himself back inside of the quiet recesses of the library.

He opted to cut through the upperclassmen dormitories instead of simply going around. It was raining heavily, and Vincent had no wish to remain outside longer than necessary on a wet day like this.

He stopped at a doorway leading into his dorm underneath its canopy and took a moment to shake excess water off his umbrella.

(( Sorry for the delay. I'm taking liberties and assuming that Nauleth and Vincent live in the same building, if that's okay. ))

Nauleth had made it to lunch again today, but just barely. He'd managed to dress himself a little less sloppily than the day before, more against the rain than for the effort at dignity. He'd stumbled into the cafeteria in time to pick at what was left and assemble something that might actually be mistaken for a meal from a distance. He wasn't too choosy, however, especially when hungry.

Once he was finished, the dark-eyed boy took his time wandering back to the dorm, avoiding the rain as much as possible. Still a little unwell from his chilly Frostbite mishap on the Lawn with Laureline, Naul had actually bothered with an umbrella, though he was slightly unhappy about the extra accessory.

As he approached the entrance to the dorms, thoughts having drifted during the soggy walk to all that he'd come to see and hear from Professor Lux over the past few weeks, he didn't notice Vincent until he was practically in front of him. He might have purposefully shook his umbrella a little forcefully, just so the sprinkling of water traveled barely far enough to mist the taller, larger albino.

Because he could.

"It's a little late for you to be headed back to sleep, unless you're just getting home from some night out." Naul teased, mostly because the older student was in his uniform on a weekend, tone sardonic and cheeky with a hint of curiosity, "Or you're hoping to be rather early for class."

Vincent's white eyebrow snaked upward at the sudden appearance of the younger, dark eyed boy.

"Two days in a row, Siordanti. I would think it more likely that every night on a weekend is a night out for you," his red eyes crinkled in a rare gesture of amusement and glancing at Nauleth's sloppy dressing.

"What I do with my evenings is certainly none of your business."

Naul laughed, offering something of a wolfish grin, "Though, really, I just can't be ersed to impress when it's my day off. I've already made all of my important impressions, anyway."

He shrugged, closing his umbrella and leaning on it. He could clean up quite well if he wanted to, he just didn't see the point when there wasn't anything important to do. The school's uniform was restrictive enough for a boy who seemed to despise jackets,

"I do have my moments before the firsts, it's true, but I think I've been a bit tamer than usual lately." Naul's tone might have implied he actually had quite a bit on his mind, but he quickly followed with a bit of a quip, "What's your excuse? Lacking wardrobe variety?"

"There are only two things that make a proper galdori: distinguished magical ability and his clothes. Anything less, one is better off a human or worse." The albino quoted with a sly spark in his crimson eyes.

He stood for a moment, considering the younger student. He didn't like to be interrupted in his daily routines; but then again, Nauleth was his classmate. He wanted to continue with what he was doing, but he felt that he should have some sort of meaningful conversation. The boy wasn't exactly "Mr. Socialization".

"So. What did you think of Mars' last lecture? It was unexpectedly provocative with its interpretation of Gehaus' Law of Transversal Current Flow."

This was Vincent's way of making conversation, albeit in a boring and academic fashion. He was reaching out, if only a little bit, to someone who to him was only an acquaintance.

"I think it's been well-established that my magical ability far outweighs how I choose to dress on the weekends." Snorted Nauleth, unfazed, "I clean up quite nicely ... when it clocking matters. Today, it does not—as far as I'm concerned, anyway."

Had he been younger and both sides of his face agreed with each other more often, he probably would've pulled a more childish expression over such a quote, but, as it was, neither was the case. He just sneered haughtily instead, glancing briefly down and his mostly untucked shirt with a shrug.

Huffing at his white-streaked bangs, Naul considered totally dismissing the theory from class entirely, a little bit of bravado from his lessons from Freja rising to the surface of his thoughts. Pushing that away until he felt he knew more to speak of it, the dark-eyed boy replied calmly, "I'd hardly call her interpretation provocative. Counter-intuitive, perhaps ..." He grinned, one side before the other, revealing he wasn't afraid to disagree with a professor,

"It was a rather narrow view of flow, considering the kinds of things Golightly has not only done but spoken about in Physical. I mean, not to insult Mars' intelligence, but it seems to me she could've thought further along the general trend of proven monic reaction."

Interesting, the boy cocked a white eyebrow. Vincent loved debates. As an academic, he had his great share of them. To share ideas and to receive them, then reshaping them and testing them. Being a scientist was truly thrilling in that sense. He closed his umbrella. The trip into the rain can wait.

"Oh? But I hear quite similar things on flow not only from Mars, but Melles as well. Golighty may be implying something quite different on current flow, but his claims only hold up on instances that call for sound wavelengths between seventy-five and one hundred forty decibels. Even then, the application is shaky. What I do to work around that difference in comparison to say, what Mars teaches, is to simply derive the inverse derivative of said theory and then run it through Lamar's Constant," Vincent folded his arms in concentration. One would say that it was his stance for his battles of wit.

"But what say you? I am curious to see why you think Mars is wrong."

Naul realized he wasn't going to be crawling back to his dorm right away. He chose to lean against the wall, hands finding his pockets as his expression settled into something lopsidedly thoughtful,

"I didn't say wrong." He chuckled, chewing briefly on the inside of his cheek as he considered the best way to respond to what Vincent had so carefully presented, "I just said counter-intuitive. There's a difference."

The dark-eyed boy again decided rambling on about unestablished theories like creating matter from nothing in complete disregard to the kind of monic will they'd been taught all of their Brunnhold education was too dangerous ground to tread on, regardless of how much he was dying inside to share and discuss with someone, anyone who seemed to have more than the average amount of gray matter between their ears,

"Lamar's Constant has its uses, but even you've got to admit it has it's limitations when it comes to sound. The real challenge comes when your whole purpose in casting is to eliminate sound while still maintaining the affects of the volume and wavelength on the surrounding area. Such as Soundwave ... the standard Soundwave, that is. I see Mars' point, but I really think that more experimentation will prove that her interpretation is unsound. Eventually, someone will push the limit of Gehaus' Law and you'll be left picking up the pieces."

Naul's expression twitched a little, a slow grin forming over his features as if somewhere in the back of his mind, he considered himself capable of doing such a thing some day down the road. He just wasn't about to say that out loud. Not yet.

"And that someone will be you?" The albino's deep voice flexed in emphasis. One could have taken that to be sarcastic. Possibly even mean-spirited. For all anyone else knew, Vincent was making a direct mention of Nauleth's awful backlash. Vincent could have been only been expressing curiosity at one's hope to be that powerful. Unfortunately, things always have a way of being misinterpreted...

Nauleth had, already, seen some of the very laws they'd slaved over studying shattered into shards of iridescent pieces before his very eyes. He'd seen matter willed into instantaneous existence by the mind of another student, all without a single spell uttered out loud. All that he'd come to terms with as regulations for magic had been turned on its head and here was this nearly-graduated albino asking him if he considered himself capable of such a thing?

Clocking hell, yes.

Eventually, anyway.

Still, the tone of the older student's voice was not a joke nor a simple tease; the implications behind Vincent's accusation stirred older, baser feelings in the dark-eyed boy besides the breaking of established theoretical laws. This was a much simpler matter of questioning his abilities. Surely, that much was clear. Not leaning up from the wall, Naul settled visibly into an expression of smugness, hands still comfortable in his pockets, unfaltering grin something more threatening than jovial on his sharp features,

"Me? Perhaps so. One day. I've still got two years before I graduate, and here you are on the cusp of it all and ... well, what have you accomplished?" His backlash wasn't so far away, really; sometimes it was still very fresh in his mind. "If you have your doubts about what's at my disposal, I'm always open to proving otherwise."

Vincent's eyes focused on the younger student with an eagle's intensity. Whatever Nauleth thought that he insinuated, he was probably wrong.

His cello voice carried a light weight to it.
"What have I accomplished?" All the lonely nights in his room, in the library, in the classroom, in the cloister, and beyond ... All on his own back, on his own volition. His father never will care for the passion that he had to be strong and intelligent in the ways of magic, and so gave nothing to help him. He dug and clawed his way, carrying his world on his back to get to where he was standing. He could say that his accomplishments were many.

The red-eyed boy always hated empty boasts. They were unbecoming of a proper galdori of society.

"You know as well as I do that such words are useless wastes of time. However," he pulled his hand into a slowly forming fist. Organic popping issued from his large clenched fingers. "I am a believer in that maxim that actions are more capable than words in expression."

The air around Vincent shifted, as if a switch was turned. His gaze was steadfast, as if finally taking interest in the younger dark-eyed boy. It has been a long time indeed since last dueling.

"If you wish for me to show you what I accomplished, I will not object."

"Well, there's no sense in graduating without having actually applied all of that theory, now is there?" Nauleth snickered, leaning up from the wall as if he'd been waiting for a proper response all along. Unable to say no to such a challenge, his grin widened almost amiably, though it was rather difficult to completely wipe the hint of smugness from his face, "I think you make a good point, and I'll be happy to put my studies where my mouth is on the Lawn if that's what you're implying."

He briefly glanced past the taller, paler boy and eyed the rain warily and considered his current state of dress, still slightly congested from his earlier duel that had not quite gone the way he'd hoped, "I should get a coat. This weather and I don't clocking get along."

Vincent nodded in affirmation. He disliked dueling when his opponent was at a disadvantage.

"You may. In fact," The albino glanced out into the pouring rain. "I wish to deposit my books in my room. It would be annoying to have my books wet."

A pocketwatch appeared in his large hand, and spoke in polite, even cordial, tones without looking up from checking time.

"What would be a good time to convene?"

"I shouldn't be long." Naul retorted, tone bordering on the amiable, caught up now in the distracting process of thoughtfully preparing for a duel. He didn't have too many repeat chances; just a few here and there, though no one he could call anything resembling a sparring partner, really. Athrym was too clocking distracting to count as such a thing, though their practice in the Cloister before Loshis had certainly been an experience.

He slid a hand from his pocket to swing open one of the overly large, well-carved wooden doors to the upper form hall, offering for the older student to go first with his gesture more than his expression, "I can either meet you down here or on the Lawn. Whichever, really. I should just suck it up and dress for the rain this time."

He'd just head upstairs and grab a jacket, despite his dislike of them. It seemed like a decent enough idea to leave his satchel. He wouldn't need it. For a moment as he waited on Vincent before closing the door and heading upstairs, Naul found himself wondering if he really needed spells at all. It was an odd feeling, an aching curiosity, but he dismissed it reluctantly, part of him still a little wary of the implications.

"If you feel the need to wait for me here, I will not mind. Otherwise, I will expect you at the Lawn," Vincent snapped his pocket watch shut as the doors open. He bowed his head in light thanks for the held-open doors as he went through. It would probably be a good idea to grab a few things to keep himself warm as well. Perhaps a jacket...

"I will meet you in either places shortly. If I arrive back downstairs before you, I shall wait and accompany you to the Lawn."

With those words, he was off and up the stairs and down the hall into his room. He set down his satchel with a sigh of regret. He didn't get to finish studying today. He shrugged off his green uniform's jacket in favor of a little bit more fancy rust-red something with more insulation. He disliked the rain, and wanted to minimize its chill on him as much as possible. He snatched a blue scarf on the way out, as if in afterthought as opposed to what spells might he possibly use effectively in this weather.

Naul's nod indicated he wasn't particular either way, "Sounds agreeable enough to me."

With that he was up the stairs, letting the large doors slam behind him. Once in his room, he fumbled about for a coat that he actually liked and might have been more waterproof than most of what he owned. His room wasn't messy, but he wasn't always entirely aware of what was hanging in his closet. It was probably due to the uniform requirement more than a sense of attention, but, still.

Glancing at the small stack of dusty theory books on his desk, books he'd dug up from the far corners of the Library specifically because of all he'd heard flow incredulously like ice Professor Lux's lips lately, Naul sighed, one hand on the knob of his door. Eventually, something had to make sense; he just wasn't sure if those old books would help his thought process or not.

Then he was back into the hall, buttoning his coat and tugging up on the stiff collar to protect against the rain. After a few flights of stairs, he was back downstairs and outside, hands in his pockets, thoughtful and wordlessly interested in the challenge he'd gone and mouthed his way into.

Vincent was already just outside the double doors waiting for the dark eyed boy. On cue of the door opening, the albino began walking alongside of his challenger out towards the Lawn. The older student said nothing, simply because he was going over strategy rather than him being antisocial. He was pretty sure that the older boy felt the same.

They were nearly to their fight. The rain seemed to get lighter in anticipation. The red eyed boy was brimming with anticipation. It had been too long indeed.

Ah, the Lawn. Naul had walked the whole way in silence because it seemed to be more appropriate than amiable conversation, given that they were actually walking together to duel, to give a show of magical prowess, to have a bit of one-upmanship. It seemed strangely out of sorts to talk about how dreary the weather or how lovely the summer would be once it arrived, so the dark-eyed boy kept his mouth shut and considered his options.

Considered commanding the mona instead of just asking.

Considered the risk to his personal welfare for doing so.

Considered the potential if it worked ... and if it failed.

Hands in this coat pockets, the chill of the Lawn once they arrived was deeper than the rest of the air about campus, magically scorched grass hardly responsive to the care of the spring rain. Naul noted that the rain in question was now a light drizzle, which was a relief, and he took to rolling up his coat sleeves after unbuttoning the cuffs, as was his usual custom,

"So, considering some time has passed since we both found ourselves out here, I thought I should ask if you have any particular rules ... given that this is as regular a practice of yours as it is mine." He grinned a little, lopsidedly, and arched his sharp right eyebrow, "Anything I should look out for?"

The dehydrated grass on the Lawn crinkled under the towering student's feet as he came to a stop about ten paces away from Nauleth. Vincent took his time in answering while stretching himself out, his habit before a duel. It was an amusing sight, like watching a big cat stretching before a nap after a meal. If one were listening closely, he would hear faint popping noises coming from up and down his back and shoulders. He exhaled loudly from the exertion as his long, solid arms fell back down at his sides.

"Seeing as this is not a duel between enemies, I see no particular reason to ask for any concessions," the giant said casually. "If you wish for any rules, feel free to speak now..."

Vincent's field gathered into a tighter cluster around him, as if finishing his sentence for him.

...or forever hold your peace.

"Ready?"

"Nothing particular, really." Naul nodded casually, tone of voice becoming a bit more calculating than conversational, "While I have nothing against experimentation, let's not try to aim for anything too damaging. No one wants to pick up our pieces off the Lawn, I'm sure."

He grinned at this, wolfishly, though he was quite aware that he'd seen plenty of backlashes in his time. He wasn't very keen on dragging people to the Infirmary enough as it was, and so in general opted to avoid anything unstable or explosive unless they were absolutely called for (such as a well-placed Magma spell now that it was within his casting abilities).

Naul gathered his field and seemed to hesitate for a moment, on the cusp of thought, on the edge of longing to put what he'd been hearing into practice. Still, he'd felt the price of recklessness on enough occasions to temper his enthusiasm for powerful knowledge into something more like cautious curiosity,

"I humor myself into believing I'm always ready." He quipped, thumbing his sharp nose before bringing both his hands into a more casual casting position. The dark-eyed boy decided no further conversation was necessary, so with a very clear sense of focus, he spoke the monite for his more usual opener in a duel, Dullness.

The more we change, the more we stay the same, Vincent waxed prose in the moment. Dullness was Nauleth's opening move we they dueled years ago. As soon as the dark eyed boy began to utter the beginnings of the spell, his mind snapped into proper focus.

The large albino did not move, as it would detract his attention from forming a proper counterspell. It would not do to have his head in the fog this early on. Making sure to enunciate carefully, and with the right amount of politeness, he recited the Dullness counterspell.

The mona in the air around them whispered, almost delightfully. A duel, a real duel. With no anger and no spite. They almost sang to the two boys as the gathering of fields and murmur of monite indicated their desires.

In response to Naul, the air seemed to thicken around Vincent and he would taste bitter lime. His head became fuzzy, as though full of cotton wool. But even as the spell began, Vincent's counterspell chimed in, and in a sudden rush like emerging from deep water, the Dullness was vanquished.

It seemed the boys had an even playing ground. One having experiance from practice and extra curricular studies, the other older and more grounded in dedication. It would be interesting to see the outcome, and the mona seemed to feel the same way, humming as they anticipated what the boys would cast next.

The transition from a clear mind to a tired headache back to a clear head was as quick a change that anyone can handle, but the older student felt a lot better with what would have been a huge annoyance out of the way. He allowed himself something resembling a grin, of which Nauleth probably had no idea of the significance. This was shaping up to be a good fight, just like the old days.

Let us see how well you handle this, the towering boy gathered his field in the momentum of the moment. He followed his counter with Depth Perception, paying attention to play up the effects that would wreak havoc on the dark eyed boy's eyes. His hands flew forward together, as if shoving an invisible person in front of him as he intoned Push in the wake of his last spell.

Nauleth smirked at the counter to his spell, making a swift decision to alter from his normal casting sequence once he heard Vincent begin to speak familiar words. Any number of Perceptive spells came to mind, but he simply felt it necessary to step outside the box. With an intentional, though slightly cautious firmness, he spoke the monite for Lashing, very aware of the spell that was heading his way.

He didn't feel the need to counter, hoping instead to riposte disorientation with physical pain.

The Depth Perception spell hit Nauleth like the wonderful side effects of a night on the town, without the wonderful part. His vision wobbled, and the giant white haired boy seemed close and far all at the same time. But it didn't effect his own casting, the monite for Lashing out just as Push landed him on his back with a thump.

The firm, but direct approach with his casting had the desired effect on the mona. They buzzed as the air between Naul and Vincent shimmered as it traveled along, a mere second in time, slowed down by adreniline and excitement. The Lashing caught the albino on the hip, traveling upwards across his torso to his shoulder. Violent gashes striped their way across him, like a cat-o-ten-tails had danced across his chest. As always did with duels, passersby began to gather around the Lawn for the spectacle.