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"Well, your English sounds fine to me. Better than mine was, at least. My first day here; I don't think anyone could understand what I was saying." James offered with a small laugh, in an attempt to lighten things up a bit. In all honestly, the girl seemed pretty nervous, and he was suddenly regretting his decision to drench her with a watergun. Way to go, James, you absolute dick. He didn't let any hint of his inner contrition show, though, just 'cause he was cool like that. 

He ended up just watching Yuki for a few seconds, mostly just to make sure that she wasn't just pretending to have a drink (after all, he was nothing if not a gracious host). Also because he needed to know whether she was harbouring some burning grudge against him. Which she didn't seem to be, so that was good news.

"Yeah, the dunk tank. Don't you have those in Japan?" James asked, though it did came out a bit more patronizingly than he would've liked. "I just thought that with all the crazy gameshows and shit you guys have, that, you know... You'd have seen at least one of these."

Oh crap. Was that racist? He didn't think it was. But now that he said it, he couldn't be sure. 

"Anyway," James decided that it was best to quickly change the subject. At that, he began to explain the mechanics of the dunk tank; about how hitting the target would send the [s]poor victim[/s] participant plummeting down into the water. However, with some unfortunate phrasing, it didn't sound like the safest thing in the world. "It's all good fun, really."

And then, someone else cut into the conversation. Thankfully, the newcomer was at a close enough proximity for James to see who it was without having to squint. The corners of his lips turned up into a grin when he recognized her.

"It's nice to see you too, Jules. Yes, and I'm doing splendidly, thank you for asking." James replied with a mocking civility, right after he managed to school his features. Though the shit-eating grin returned after just a few moments. Shaking his head, he placed a hand over his heart and pouted, making a grand old show of getting his feelings hurt. "You wound me. You wound me with your cruel, cruel words. And c'mon, it's just water. At least I didn't add food colouring to it. Wait. Why am I explaining myself to you? I don't have to explain myself to you."

At her comment about his glasses, James just snorted derisively. "Well, yeah, but where's the fun in that? ...I feel like I'm getting a whole lot of negativity from you. Live a little!!"

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"Oh! Right. Well, it's been alright, I suppose?" Seth replied, though his tone of voice wasn't at all convincing. Truth be told, he really hadn't had the best week. As usual, his dad had been a massively butthurt and refused to even pick up his calls. But he wasn't about to unload all his troubles on someone he'd known for barely a week. He was pretty sure that it'd be a violation of every rule of basic social etiquette. "I mean, it's pretty much the same thing every year, isn't it? Just with new students. Anyway, what about you? How was your week?"

When Celia complimented this hibiscus tea, Seth's expression broke into a guileless smile oddly reminiscent of an excited five year-old. [i]Finally[/i], he didn't botch something up. Then again, it'd be pretty damn hard to mess up throwing a couple of petals into the water to boil.

"Really? I'm glad you like it!" Seth said, perhaps a tad too earnestly. He just couldn't help it. It wasn't often that someone found something he made or did to be worthy of praise. And, since the recipe was something that his mother had taught him, he was especially proud of it. 

Seth blinked when the other mentioned the fact that he almost jumped out of his skin just a minute or two ago. Okay, so he was a little jumpy today. To be honest, he really wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was because he hadn't drank anything alcoholic the past week. He simply didn't have the time. Was alcohol withdrawal even a thing? He vaguely recalled reading something online concerning it, But the specific details had been long since purged from the recesses of his mind.

"Yeah, sorry." Seth murmured sheepishly with a slight chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. Not getting enough sleep, I think. It's nothing."

Meanwhile, his gaze once again flickered over to the dunk tank. As the sun continued to beat down upon them, the idea of getting dunked became more and more inviting. And it was only a matter of time until it was their turn. "Agreed. I estimate ten minutes tops until we have to get dunked."

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