[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjgwLjc2MWFkYi5TV0Z1SUVNdUlGSnBkbVZ5Y3csLC4wAAA,/sketch-gothic-school.regular.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/CJWxUyh.png[/img][/center]
[right][sub][b]Location:[/b] Ares Colloseum
[b]Interactions:[/b] [color=F0E68C]Lyra Woods[/color] [@Filthy Mudblood],
[color=BF225D] Ariana Mossos[/color][@Dirty Pretty Lies]
[b]Mentions:[/b] [color=e03c31]Marcy[/color] [@Write] [/sub][/right]
[hr][hr]
Ian was one of the first people at the Ares Colosseum, not because he’d known beforehand that was where they were supposed to go, but because he had the advantage of being able to store his luggage in one of the shadows near the housing buildings – he directed a short but firm thought to Hades that his stuff better [i]not[/i] get lost in the netherworld, as had once happened to the clothes on his back on an embarrassingly memorable occasion – and then zipped himself from shade to shade, the sensation not at all disorienting any longer though he technically lacked a three-dimensional form while doing so. 

He re-emerged at one of the stone benches near the back with nary a wrinkle present, though his hair was rather windswept. He rummaged his travel jacket’s inner pockets for the comb that he stored there alongside other necessities, such as his wallet, a pen, pencil, sketchbook, hanky, his phone, and a pair of sunglasses, which were the retro round black-tinted kind. Yes, yes, incredibly pretentious, so sue him for enjoying nice things. At the very least he had been sensible enough to change the formal shirt he’d worn underneath for one of his mother’s concerts she’d managed to arrange as a farewell gift for a simple white T-shirt. His hair combed, the wind gleefully ruining his efforts, Ian promptly sat down on the bench and waited for whatever business they’d been called for to commence. His fingers itched oh-so-terribly for him to rake through his hair, but instead of giving into the urge or simply ripping his hair out and screaming for the world to hear that, sod it all to bloody damnation, he was shaving his head...instead, he steepled his fingertips [i]calmly[/i] onto a leg he crossed over the other knee.

Instead of resolving his dilemma or acting out on his frustrations, Ian chose to spend the time by leafing through his sketchbook, and adding a detail here-or-there, and began a surprisingly floral concept on a new page. Much to his consternation, he also deepened the teeth-indents on his pencil. [color=8A2BE2][i]Ah, if mother saw this. Even Marcy might scold me. Oh, speaking of the devil.[/i][/color] A truly pleased smile stretched his lips as Ian tracked his sister’s and her companion’s path, simply observing. He did not stand up, deciding then and there they could have their yearly sibling reunion after the Headmaster and Headmistress had completed whatever speech they had prepared. He twirled the pencil between the fingers of his right hand as he listened, making the occasional notation, which consisted solely of the words “new challenges” (?), and [u][i]experiment[/i][/u]. 

He dutifully marked down the called names and even went so far as to add an extremely speedy sketch of each person called, not including himself, of course. The fact that he’d be practically next-doors from his sisters was, of course, the matter which excited him the most about this whole ordeal. He sent Marcy an exuberant grin, but she was already mid-conversation and surrounded by her usual company, so he was doubtful that she noticed at all. Nevertheless, things were as they should be. He was truly considering [i]finally[/i] approaching to catch up with Marcy, but going by all the hugs, hair-ruffling, and the general commotion surrounding her group, there were no doubts in Ian’s mind that [i]later[/i] was still the more prudent decision. Just the thought of potentially being on the receiving end of all that [i]touchy-feeliness[/i] from unrelated persons was cause enough for a full-body shudder. [color=8A2BE2][i]Besides, they're sure to be in the mid of another party-planning session.[/i][/color]

There was also the matter of his roommate, one Lyra Woods. He ripped his gaze away from the familiar figure of Marcy, and searched for the blonde whose name he’d memorized alongside the others. Ian straightened his shoulders, put away the sketchbook and pencil, smoothed away any and all wrinkles and swept off the imaginary lint, lifted his chin ever-so-slightly, and approached his new roommate, mostly disregarding the fact Woods had already engaged the black-haired Mossos female in conversation. Thus, he was opportune enough to catch all the blonde’s complaints to her friend. [color=8A2BE2][i]Oh, so she knows of me?[/i][/color] He almost tutted at her misconceptions, but those could be corrected shortly. [color=8A2BE2][i]Apparently making a good impression on her will take at least double the effort I’d had initially considered. Hmm. So much for a peaceful year…[/i][/color] That was not to say Ian was dissuaded, oh no, not at all. He strode to his target with purpose, his typical soft smile present as usual, his stare fixed on Lyra. [color=8A2BE2]“I believe we have not yet properly met, miss?”[/color] he drawled slightly, but not-at-all accusingly, feeling comfortable enough to stretch out his arm for a greeting. [color=8A2BE2][i]The miss was too much,[/i][/color] a traitor thought rustled across his mind, but he decidedly did [i]not[/i] wince. He gave a curt nod to Mossos, keeping his greeting and gaze on her for a polite 5 seconds, then returned to his greeting of Lyra. [color=8A2BE2]“My name is Ian Rivers, and I most certainly cannot possess people, rest assured,”[/color] it was probably prudent he didn’t mention he could make spirits possess him or potentially other people as well, however. He even ensured to glance back to Ariana to include her, oh, he was [i]so[/i] on a roll right now! 

That was when, his right arm still sticking out awaiting a handshake, Ian took a moment to look between the pair to get a look on what some of the others were doing. He was especially interested what the Hadmaster’s and Headmistress’s reactions might be. Were they already observing their [i]experiment[/i]? Or were the students now under additional surveillance? Perhaps half-a-minute later, his gaze once again found Woods in front of him, and he locked his gaze with hers, raising both brows shortly in a [i]Well, what now?[/i] prompt.