Amaris stared at the device expectantly, chuckling a bit to herself as it crackled to life once again; this time with Victor’s voice. He had advice, or instructions rather, to share with the Count Eve but there was something about it that sounded as if he was pulling some kind of practical joke. The first part was clear enough to her. It was a simple suggestion on how to hold the device when trying to speak, but it was the end that caught her a little off guard. He spoke words she understood and yet their context was clearly evading her. ‘How copy?’ Did he suddenly forget how sentences were structured? And what was this about copying? The professor never mentioned anything about such a feature. It was meant to be a simple device… right?

It didn’t seem like she was destined for an answer, however, as the Dame recalled the room’s attention to herself. Despite it only feeling like mere moments, the end of their class had already arrived. Amaris was prepared to return the mystical object but it seemed Dame Patel had other plans for her little chickadees. She instructed the students to keep them for the time being and had assigned them to practice contacting the receiving devices until their next meeting. The Countess shifted her eyes towards each of her group mates one by one. While she was able to contain any particular thought from reaching her face, it was still pretty easy to infer her hesitance.

It could be worse… At least Victor appears to have some kind of idea of what he’s doing. If we run into any issues I’m sure he could help us figure it out. She thought to herself as she carefully packed the item away. Now that they were dismissed, Amaris had a moment to herself to consider the rest of her night. The Countess knew none of her group’s schedules which meant figuring out a moment to practice with the walkie talkie might come down to sheer luck… but that was an issue for another time. For the time being, all Amaris had to do was figure out how to spend her break between classes. The allotted fifteen minutes was often used to check in on the progress of their mages, or further social ties, unfortunately for her neither activity was of interest to her at the moment. Instead she allowed herself the luxury of a leisurely walk toward her next lecture.

When it came to the culinary arts, Amaris was like an estranged relative that surely belonged yet still felt out of place. Sure, she could appreciate the many savory scents that wafted from the kitchens around meal times, but that was about as far as it went with her. The Countess knew how to brew a decent cup of tea, and had even worked to learn a couple of different methods of preparing the morning’s coffee. Beverages, however, were far from proper sustenance for a mortal, or at least that was what she had been told.

As she drew ever closer to her destination, Amaris’ thoughts had strayed into considerations for what oddities might be in store for her this time. At this point, she might have been relieved to find a pineapple awaiting her at the door. At least that would be semi-familiar.

Ben took Count Astorio's words to heart, adjusting accordingly. He still had to fight a smile anytime the word came up, but he was certain it wouldn't take too long to learn how to use something that worked with the press of a button. How technology progressed so quickly! And Dame Patel was generous enough to let them borrow it for the night. He would need to practice as much as he could whenever he retired to the dorms but would keep in mind not to disturb the others too much. The thought occurred to him that he would go far asking the pair what times were best, but neither of the other two spoke up. Countess Marivaldi seemed hesitant on that end. Oh well.

For now he would lay the issue aside, offering the pair little more than a word of farewell before leaving the classroom. Next would be his and Lilie's showmageship class, and he wanted to make a good first impression by arriving together with her. If he recalled correctly, she had her affinity class, which was a distance away. He fished out his notebook to double check only to find himself mistaken. He was ahead of himself as there was one other class and a lunch period before the two should unite. Perhaps he could catch her in the cafeteria. No matter, the important thing was that he had a few minutes to take his time to get to the right class.

Ben corrected his path and let the talk of the students fill his eardrums. The conversations were mostly catching up and complaints about classes beginning anew. Eris' voice struck out to him and he noticed the blond just ahead. Of all the voices to draw his attention, why did it have to be his? However, the celebrity wasn't the point of the scene as what was more interesting was the Sinnenodel walking beside him in one piece. What a stunt, he must be picking up on Eris' habits of drawing attention. This did confirm Ben's own suspicions on drawing out an assailant but it did not bring him much comfort to know Varis Sinnenodel was, in fact, alive.

It wasn't that he wished the vampire dead but it was not every day that one would publicly fake their own death. To think he would go so far as to have his Lady make a public declaration as well. Was that why the princess had in fact visited their dorms? His initial guess had been much too naïve. Would a thwarted assassination attempt truly been worth that hassle? He did not truly know much of the Sinnenodel house and their workings but was aware that their constant changes had everyone more paranoid than usual. Whatever the case may be, it was none of Ben's business. Technically speaking, Varis was in fact the heir he was throwing his weight behind so at least his father wouldn't go questioning him just yet, and that meant he did not have to start over with another heir. If he still sat at the board of Green Vision Inc., then Ben still had business with him yet.

Once he was focused on his path he realized they were walking in the same direction he was. Were the three of them to share a class? While he initially believed it to be a stroke of bad luck that they would be forced to sit in the same room together, it wouldn't necessarily be a waste. He could slowly work to gain Varis' favor and ignore Eris to infuriate him. What was the expression? Two birds and a stone? The stone did something but he couldn't recall. Or was it one bird with two stones? That sounded more accurate. He did hasten his step a touch to catch up to the pair as he decided he may as well play the part of a relieved colleague. No, not relieved. He needed to...what was that other expression? Play with the cool? No, he remembered, it was be cool, in which the temperature mattered because something hot drew attention and a cooler food item was likely to be less noticed. If he was too shocked or excitable than he would come off as disingenuous.

"Good evening, Count Sinnenodel," Ben said. He wanted to ignore Eris, but as the latter was in the pocket of the former, it would likely be rude. "Eris." He kept the usual disdain out of his voice at least.

The class ended rather quickly, Victor thought for sure that this class would just drag on and on yet it did not. Letting them keep the hand held for the day could be troublesome. All one had to do was ‘accidentally’ press the call button and it would make all the radios on the channel chime off. He knew it was to pull everyone’s attention to the radio when they were trying to reach someone or had an urgent message. This could be used once or twice to call attention to the other nobles but victor wasn’t sure if he wanted to mess with them just yet.

Perhaps he confused his counterparts enough with his reply on the radio. He still didn’t comprehend a thing about how it worked from one radio to the next but he had to go through several crash courses on how to talk and operate a radio. It definitely proved to be an important piece of equipment while working with a team during an operation.

The 15 minute break between classes was nice but he wasn’t all that interested in checking up with Salem. There hadn’t been any explosions, police activity, or emergency crews in the area so he figured the boy must be doing alright. They could talk about their day later towards the morning to recap what both of them learned. At least he was well aware of what his next class should consist of and were it was located.

Stepping up to the fighting area he had spent a great deal of time here already. Either training or coming in after class to help clean the area to make up for his past blunders when he first arrived. He still had to thank the princess later this morning for getting him on the right path. Too bad it seems that it takes near death experiences to, as Salem calls it, get his head out of his ass. With a deep breath the count proceeded into his next class room.

---

It seemed like Max's earlier assumpted was correct, the exercise went a lot smoother when Ashton was the one compensating for him rather than the other way around. Whether that was attributed to the other student's experience level or just their personalities clashing would be helpful information, though. Who was he kidding? No it wouldn't; he'd probably never be in this situation again outside this class. Eris was already nervous enough everytime he walked past an array of silverware, and if Feliks was any indication, his affinity had a certain type associated with it. The leech would have to be suicidal to consider inducting a second metal mage into his service.

Still, it was hard to feel pride in completing the task when he was pretty certain his partner had done most of the work. All that display had taught him was that he couldn't just power through the exercise as he'd hoped, which was a fact Max has fairly well aware of by now and at this point, he was really just testing his luck. His arms raised in front of him again in preparation for the next try, though the cube only made it about an inch off the table before Max abruptly dropped it at Ashton's outburst. It was a shock the collared loser even had it in him to be that assertive, and on Max's behalf, at that. The vote of confidence was nice, but the brunette couldn't quite agree. He fully expected another explosion if he had to hold the metal in place again, and technically the puzzle wasn't 'done' until he could do both roles. Sure, the whole thing was asinine, but Artiae made it sound like the entire class hinged on this concept.

Of course, it was a lot easier to side with the professor when he gassed Max up unintentionally. The bit about him tearing down a building with a stray thought was, naturally, flattering as hell.

The rest of the class was awkward, to say the least, but Max was hardly a stranger to tense rooms and wasn't particularly bothered. Of course, if Asston got snappy with him, that could change real quick. The professor's advisement just elicited a sigh from Max. He just had to get the exhausting classes first thing in the morning, didn't he? He used his first class to wake up, not put himself back to sleep. Maybe he could take a nap in Dowsing or something.

"The fuck was that...?" Max mumbled as Ashton vacated himself promptly from the room. That eager to run home to his master, huh? The mage spared a passing glance and a shrug back at Professor Artiae before he whipped out his phone. The 'Retriever' across the screen got a sly grin out of the boy, if only because Aaron's thinly-veiled clapbacks and deadpan remarks had to be at least more entertaining than whatever guilt-fueled response Salem lazily sent his way.

> Classy.

See, the worst part about that message was Max had no idea how to tell if the Retriever was kidding or not. His first instinct was, of course, to assume Aaron was being facetious, but for all Max knew, that could very well be a classy look in his circles. No; even if the collar was the peak of magely fashion, 'crayon factory explosion survivor' wasn't a look anyone would adore.

> Dude's a fucking weirdo, got in a spat with the professor that we weren't going fast enough 5 seconds after i almost killed us both going too fast
> How tf do you wear a whole ass collar and then be that idk, brave?

---

@Obscene Symphony

---

The familiar sands had a few new faces in it, none of them he recognized. Only one of his fellow class mates met his gaze if only for a moment. Victor began to place his things in a neat pile on the stone floor while the instructor stepped in. the smaller man waved them over to join them in the middle. The count took a short swig of his flask and joined the others with a shiver.

It wasn’t too much of a surprise for him to see the bewilderment in the instructor’s eyes and words. A short vampire with a slim build by the name of Tomas with a blunt and to the point way of speaking. He took a bit more time to look over a few of the other classmates they had with them his eyes lingering on the girl that met his gaze earlier for a moment longer than the others. The gaze didn’t seem hostile perhaps more of nervousness. The gaze reminded him of some of the looks and body language the student body was giving off from the last incident the school had. Powerlessness, it’s the best description he could come up with.

Snapping back to the teacher as he began to go over ground rules, these were all things he heard from the last year. Still, Victor met Tomas’s gaze when he finished going over the ground rules it looked like he was going to ask him something in front of the others and he did.

“I gotta be honest. What the fuck are you looking from this?” Tomas sighed, looking up at the giant. “I’m pretty sure even with every trick in the book, you could lay me out no problem. Why did you join a basics program?”

He knew the question would be asked eventually but it still took him a moment to compile his thoughts on the matter before speaking in his usual calm deep voice. “There are a few reasons, I was told that I needed to go through the basics program to get to the higher classes. I’m sure I could submit some form or just ask to be put in the higher class but that just sounds like cheating to me and I didn’t take this class because I think it is an easy passing grade I couldn’t care less.” Glancing at a few of the others then back to Tomas again, “I am also not very familiar with the Noila fighting style, I find it a good balance between offensive and defensive where my fighting style is mostly offensive.”

The count let a sigh escape him and continued, “but frankly I have been watching the overall combat abilities of my peers and find them lacking. I was hoping that if you could not teach me, then I could assist you with the class or at the very least be a good sparring partner for you to show these ones a few things without you having to worry about breaking them. And if not then well training is training, just like my old combat instructor used to say. ‘The more you sweat in training, the less you bleed in combat’ a human expression but it still works.” He folded his arms across his chest waiting to find out if his words would do anything to increase his odds at helping out with the class but would not fret if he decided otherwise.

Max surprised Aaron by replying pretty quick—there was a jab in there somewhere about Max having no one better to talk to on his breaks, but Aaron wasn’t too interested in finding it.


Aaron made a face at the message, shrugging to himself. He honestly didn’t know where to begin; coming to the Academy had been a culture shock above and beyond anything he expected, and even one semester in he could hardly claim to understand much about the various classes of mage and vampire that congregated there.


“And you think this is how you earn your way into the Mental program? How many times have I had to repeat myself about punctuality?”

Aaron had scarcely hit send before his Master's voice sliced through the quiet night air, snapping his head up and his back straight like he’d been zapped by a wire. That pleasant feeling of tranquility he'd been basking in flew from him like a frightened dove, and all those “other things” to worry about that he’d cast aside came rushing back to take its place—not least of which being the very fragile covenant he was supposed to be mulling over, and which he’d already managed to break. And by forgetting the most basic of Varis’ commands no less! He dared not speak, weathering Varis’ justified chastisement with his eyes respectfully averted in silence, but fortunately, he got off relatively light. Varis must not have had the time or the patience to lecture him further; no need, considering Aaron could compose a lengthy lecture on his wrongdoings all by himself, and moon only knew he was hardly worth the breath.

He followed Varis mutely into the building, silencing his phone and stashing it away, and they’d already reached the classroom before Aaron even thought to wonder why Varis was here at all. He had his own classes to attend, didn’t he? Or had he failed so miserably in every other context that Varis felt the need to personally oversee magic as well? He had to resist a groan of shame; how humiliatingly astute.

Aaron gave Professor Daun an apologetic look when Varis wasn’t looking, feeling ever guiltier when he saw how alarmed the Professor was by the Count’s presence. In a way, Daun’s behaviour was surprising; given the general air of indifferent respect he’d seen so many other professors use last semester, he’d been under the impression that Princess Ryner hadn’t hired any professors who were likely to grovel at the feet of her Noble students. But perhaps that was only the professors who were likely to interact with Nobles, or it was an incorrect assumption entirely. Of course, Aaron wouldn’t deny that Professor Daun’s behaviour was smart, and more appropriate in his view given Varis’ status, but he still felt bad for catching the man so off guard. It must have been embarrassing for him, too. Perhaps he should apologize another night.

Of course, that wasn’t where Aaron’s focus should have been aimed. Varis’ mention of interest in his performance brought him back to the much more pertinent and unnerving topic at hand: not making himself out a fool in front of his Master. Again.

It was impossible for the weight of Varis’ observation not to freak him out, especially under the pressure of an impromptu evaluation. However, once Professor Daun finished fussing over Varis, the quick return to his usual, calm teaching demeanour did wonders to realign Aaron’s focus—and that little bit of praise helped too, even if he didn't deserve it. But for a mercy, it became easier to turn his mind from his Master to his task as the Professor spoke, with his demonstration so realistic it even caused Aaron to flinch. He couldn’t help the smile that broke across his lips at the sight of a fully formed lion, dissolving into nothing as quickly as it came; a dramatic example of the feats he’d been looking forward to attempting himself.

And now he had the chance. Despite the added pressure, his magic buzzed in anticipation; if anything, the extra adrenaline excited it further. Aaron was reminded once again of Salem’s analogy—perhaps the added pressure of someone to please would help him more than hurting him. Of course, his magic on its own didn’t have the all-too-relevant context of his lengthy chain of failures to temper it, but as he stepped into the hoop on the floor and closed his eyes, he tried to push those from his mind and embrace his magic’s enthusiasm.

He took a little longer than usual to center himself, having to resist the urge to work himself up anew over Varis’ observation. Instead, he focused on his breathing, tuning in to the thrum of magic coursing through him, and aligning its will with his; only when it was as attuned to him and stable as his own heartbeat did he continue.

Following Professor Daun’s instructions, Aaron envisioned a ball of light, no different than any other he’d formed. When it came time to choose a form for the ball, his mind’s eye saw shapes begin to jut from it, the ball turning and twisting like clay being molded by invisible hands. It was the strangest thing—he could imagine what it would feel like to shape the light, where each hill and valley had to go, but he could form no clear image in his mind of what the end result would be. Nonetheless, he felt confident in the outcome, and the jitters of stage fright melted away into the calm concentration of knowing precisely what he needed to do.

Opening his eyes, Aaron held out his hands, easily forming a ball of golden light between them. He was careful to keep his breathing steady as he began to shape it, doing his best to keep his hands still and let his will do the forming. His eyes narrowed as the ball began to change shape, condensing into something small and elliptical; the light brightened as it shrank, adopting bumps and corners, until it became a very bright silhouette of something like a shining, golden chrysalis.

But he wasn’t finished. His arms tensed up as he began to feel a pressure between his hands, and he clenched his jaw as he closed his hands further around the new shape, as if he was squeezing a balloon. His hands inched closer and closer together until, almost touching, there was a bright flash; suddenly, there burst from his hands a number of glowing shapes, fluttering out around him in all directions. Upon closer inspection, he’d produced about a dozen small, golden butterflies, glowing as faintly as the fairy lights as they fluttered around the room like falling confetti.

A surprised half-smile crept onto Aaron’s face as he watched his own handiwork, each little butterfly quite convincingly shaped, albeit with a not-so-realistic golden glow. Still, as they winked out one by one, he had to admit he was satisfied with his work. Even if they didn’t quite look “real”, they felt very familiar, in a strangely nostalgic sort of way; they weren’t true to life, no, but he was content that they came out just as he intended them to. He risked a glance over to gauge Varis’ reaction, and offered his Master a respectful nod before looking wordlessly to the Professor for feedback, doing his best to temper his excitement at what he’d managed to create.

---

This bitch was already getting on Max's nerves before he'd even sat down. Too bad he'd have to follow her directions like a darling student and sit next to Lilie - they weren't friends, apparently. He figured he'd come to regret the act, since she might end up bugging him about practice or some inane crap, but it would only be a matter of time until she noticed he was in this class and bug him anyway even if he did avoid her. At least he'd have someone new to shit talk; with Varis (allegedly) dead, Max had absolutely nothing to talk about with the girl.

Once the professor actually opened her mouth proper, Max couldn't help but roll his eyes. Yes, yes, he was sure she was very tough with that chip on her shoulder from only being allowed to teach Baby's First Dowsing Course. He figured the principle out in a day or two, for fuck's sake. All Max gathered from that spiel was that he had to actually show up, but otherwise he'd already passed. His only issue was that he didn't have a fun nickname for the professor yet, but that would surely come with time.

Max slumped down further in his chair as Professor Mara transitioned into the actual class, attentive but not enthusiastic. He'd have to note what materials blocked his magic more effectively for future reference. Probably a function of density, given her limestone-concrete dichotomy example. Or maybe porousness? Wait, was that technically the same thing as density? The more he sat in this class, the more Max assumed he could figure all of this out dicking around in a practice room. No wonder this lady was so insecure. The mention of a practice heavy course was equal parts annoying and welcome; he'd get to hear her talk less, but that also meant he couldn't just nap through the class. And apparently his talents were written in a file somewhere, judging by the look she shot him when she brought up natural talent. Either that, or she saw him obviously bored to tears in his chair and intuited precisely what his plan was in this class. Personalized exercise these nuts, lady.

Maybe if he pretended to be afraid of mage collectors, Ryner would strike the Taldrin crap from his record. No, all the professors here were probably under magical obediance anyway, she'd likely wave him off or throw him in counseling or something equally stupid.

Turning his attention back to the bitch in front of him rather than the one in the front office, Max had a couple questions, but none of them were appropriate on the first day. Namely whether Salem could dowse the stick up her ass or not.

"Well she seems pleasant," Max muttered humorlessly to Lilie as he finally acknowledged the girl's existence.

---

@Hero

If there was anything the Countess could gather upon her entrance, it was that she had absolutely no idea what it was she had been expecting of her new class environment. As Amaris stepped through the door, she shuffled somewhat to the side to allow passage to others, and surveyed the room curiously. To her, the space was incredibly bright, though for what reason she did not know. Whatever light was present in the room was only intensified by the white of the walls, reflected off of the uniform metallic surfaces filling the space only to be bounced back once more. Aside from that, however, there wasn’t much to the room at all. The most the space had going on were the various safety precautions set in place throughout the room, ready to be called upon within an instance. She supposed the sight of such extensive preparations made her feel better… until she realized she hadn’t actually been concerned previously.

Amaris’ eyes continued to scan the perimeter until they rested upon a familiar sight at the front of the teaching space. A small smirk tugged at her features as she tracked the vertical movements of a peculiarly spiked fruit, eyes shifting ever so slightly to the side to confirm her suspicions. Nasir ibn Tariq; the pineapple man. Well, if nothing else, my time here will be interesting. She thought to herself, now finally making her way further into the room. Approaching one of the prep stations, Amaris gently plucked a piece of paper up and turned it over to inspect it. Written on the one side was what appeared to be someone’s name, likely indicating an assigned space for each of the students in attendance. A quick glance around confirmed similar papers set at each of the stations, now all she had to do was find hers.

Making her way to the front of the room, Amaris glanced over one shoulder and then the other before spotting her name nearby. “Good to see you again, sir.” She spoke on the way to her designated area, carefully flipping the card name down.

It wasn’t long after she took up her spot that Nasir started the ball rolling with class. In his very usual fashion, the elder went off on a long-winded tangent concerning the concept of cooking and what it meant for one’s mage partner. Things were starting to seem far more complicated than Maddie made them seem back at the dorms. Amaris had expected the application of flame and heat, but she was not aware that such minor missteps could be so catastrophic. How were you supposed to know what was supposed to be set on fire and what shouldn’t be? Were mortals all born with this knowledge equipped for their survival from the very start? The countess would have to remember to ask her partner about it at meal time.

She snapped back to attention as she sensed a slight shift in the importance of the instructor’s words. Amaris was far from a fan of fire, preferring to give it as wide a berth as possible when possible. While she would have to get over some of that to get through the class, and to learn a skill she considered important to her continued partnership with Maddie, there was little doubt that she’d be one to follow Nasir’s instructions to the letter. With the safety instructions out of the way, there was a moment for questions before moving on to the topic of the day. She couldn’t recall any questions in particular about food, but all the talk of potentially harming her partner did have the countess concerned.

“I had heard a rumor that mortals sometimes have dangerously adverse reactions to certain foods even when they are prepared properly. Is this true?”

Ben soundlessly returned Varis' bow. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a touch relieved that he was still in the vampire's good graces. He was, however, decidedly less interested in anything Eris had to say, moreso if it equated to hearing him whine about the instructors. While an odd bunch, they were at least effective. Unfortunately he could not deny the opportunity presented before him, no matter how much of his soul he had to give up. He would have to think on what to bring to the table in order to make a good conversationalist; perhaps he could mimic Eris, he had an endless source of complaints, after all.

Speaking of which, the star wasted very little time becoming the equivalent of grinding gears that sounded as if they were in severe need of maintenance. Ben returned his words with a tight-lipped smile but chose to remain silent as his previous assumption proved true. The three of them were to share a class after all. It was a curious choice as for all the things Varis said about both academy and royal family he didn't believe the man capable of listening to an entire lecture on them. Though where Varis went, Eris was sure to follow, so the consistency of the situation did assuage him a touch.

The classroom, if it could be called one, was a welcome distraction. Both mage and vampire interested him, particularly with their garb. Once he came to life Ben listened intently. He would be ashamed to admit it but he never did pay much attention to his lessons. However, he would need to put in the effort for this one, lest Eris decide to challenge him.

And of course the idiot would speak to him when he could just barely make out what was being said. However, the context had Ben abandon the professor temporarily. In what world would Eris hear such a thing before he did? Why did he know so much more of his house? Had his aim have been to get a reaction then Eris succeeded. The discomfort was clear and for once he was completely speechless, if only because he wasn't sure it was even true.

"I'm more interested in knowing how you, of all people, buy into such baseless things so easily," Ben said.

Salem walked into his lecture hall, taking in his surroundings as he noted the various vials lining the walls, the piles of gems decorating a few areas, and live animals caged throughout the facility. There was a hint of excitement within him, finally able to try something new, something he hadn't been studying for and training his entire life. The copious oddities allowed his imagination to run wild, trying to figure out what each one was used for, or perhaps what they were beforehand. Salem hadn't fully considered the potential for transmuting living things with the exception of plants. But the reptiles and insects now made him wonder if that was untrue.

Salem was pulled out of his thoughts as the professor prompted them all to take a seat at one of the long solid black tables. Taking his place, he removed the gloves, placing them into the pocket of his apron and then fastening the goggles around his neck. He watched as his diminutive professor walked across the class, only able to see where he was heading thanks to the large staff he carried around. So far it all seemed simple enough, though the idea that he wasn't allowed to practice his magic outside of these hours was extraordinarily frustrating. He wondered if Max had any such restrictions for his major, or if he'd still care to learn what Salem had if he wasn't able to practice them.

Upon hearing the second rule, Salem put on his gloves and slid the goggles up over his eyes. He ran a hand along his hair to ensure nothing was loose or straying, before undoing the leather strip and pulling his hair into a bun and tying it off again just to be safe. A part of him wished no one had any questions so that they may start sooner, but another wished someone did have something to ask in the event he had forgotten something.

---

---

If Max rolled his eyes any more today, they'd tumble right out of his head. If she was this concerned about people failing her class, maybe she was just a shitty teacher. Especially with such a piss-easy subject. Was dowsing seriously that hard for the riff-raff that weren't blessed with Taldrin magic? Maybe those leeches that went wild over it had a point, if normal mages had to be trained to do anything beyond manipulating what was directly in front of them. Professor Mara raised a decent point though, if only indirectly. Max had never actually tested his range to its limits yet; he hadn't needed to. The ability to count every single metallic object on a city block was, quite frankly, not something he ever figured he'd need.

Max briefly flirted with the idea of pretending to struggle with the exercise, but he supposed he might as well get something out of the class since he clearly wasn't going to get a nap. At the very least, he'd have a head start on the higher courses where the professor wasn't an insecure hack. The brunette shifted his posture to something that passed for upright at last, closed his eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. What little tension there was in his frame melted away as his shoulders sunk and widened in mirror of his magic creeping further and further outward. At first, the field grew effortlessly; his energy, no longer restrained by any of Max's will to remain nearby and useable, washed across the immediate rows of seats, hungrily worming its way into every metallic trinket and chair frame in its path. Before Max had a chance to grow confident he could rip the piercings out of every woman in the auditorium at once, the easy flow of energy soon became the arcane equivalent of a tight stretch as the quicksilver currents that had filled out his dowsing field once again settled with the rigid surety of steel.

With another deep breath, Max tensed his muscles against nothing as he internally willed the magic out of the metal reservoirs within his field that it had instinctively inhabited and pushed it against the stubborn threshold of his sorcerous bubble. There had to be a more efficient way to do this; he was functionally managing hundreds of individual objects at once, and he wasn't even doing anything with them except trying to leave them alone. He could handle pushing magic out of his body, but every single dorm key in the room too?

As if to taunt him, his magic returned to its mercurial fluidity once he released the pressure he had exerted on it and it shrunk back to a more comfortable radius around the mage. Like a fucking string he'd pulled too tight - except he knew it wasn't too tight, his magic just loved sitting in pen tips and shit. Naturally, the most obvious solution was to just remove all the extraneous distractions.

Max raised a hand languidly. "Do dowsing fields always manifest as a sphere or are they shapeable without excessive effort on the caster's part? It seems like it'd be inefficient to project magic backward too if you knew the object you were dowsing for was in front of you." Or better yet, just snake the field around the chairs entirely.

---

@Hero@Achronum

Aaron didn’t miss Varis’ reaction. He was more interested in his creation than Aaron himself, but that tiny hint of a smile, however brief, did more to put a spring in Aaron’s step than any praise Professor Daun could heap upon him. That was probably the most approval he’d gotten from Varis in weeks, even if the Count never even spared him a glance.

The Professor’s feedback was valuable too, although to Aaron’s surprise, he had little critique to offer. It seemed he was on the right track, hesitant as he was to believe it. Realistically, Daun was probably just being nice, not wanting to criticize him in front of his master; after all, Aaron could point out a few issues with the illusion right off the bat, not least of which being the unnatural glow of the butterflies. But maybe realism was the next step. He’d be sure to get more detailed critique from the Professor next class.

Daun’s comment about birds earned him a ghost of a chuckle; had he thought about it beforehand, Aaron probably would have put himself in that category as well. Was it because of his association with the Noilas? Best to keep that quiet if so, given present company – his last foray with crows did not come to a pleasant end. But… why hadn’t he defaulted to a bird? Did the episode after Revel scar him that badly? He was fond of birds – crows, ravens, magpies especially – and had more experience with them than probably any other creature small enough to replicate, butterflies included. But the butterflies came out so naturally. Why?

Aaron spun his ring as he considered his options, carefully watching the butterfly in Daun’s hand. Ravens loitered on castle grounds at all hours, and he’d probably spent entire nights over the course of his life hanging out with them, feeding them, and watching their mischievous antics. If he had any artistic talent, he could probably reliably draw one from memory. Butterflies, on the other hand, weren’t even nocturnal; he’d probably only ever seen them in the castle gardens on the way to bed, late in the morning after a long night. But somehow they felt so familiar, those fluttering, golden wings pulling at something insistent in the back of Aaron’s mind. It was like grasping at the edges of a dream just after waking, the memory at once vivid and fading too fast to recall.

“That’s interesting that you ask that… I’m not really sure,” he admitted honestly, glancing over to the Professor. He could feel Varis’ eyes on him, no doubt unimpressed with his answer, but confessing ignorance was always the smarter choice than lying. He’d learned that the hard way. “When I was picturing forming the ball, I couldn’t really put a name to what I was making. But when the illusion materialized, it felt like just what I intended. I was never unsure or confused, but I couldn’t have told you what I was making, either.”

He trailed off, eyes still fixed on Daun’s butterfly as he mulled over the mystery. After a moment, though, he decided he’d best try again, and set his feet back into the circle, closing his eyes.

This time, Aaron could see a clearer picture of his end goal: a single, larger butterfly, no longer hidden from his mind’s eye in a chrysalis. The exact source of the image in his memory was still uncertain to him, but it seemed his magic remembered better than he did; before he knew it, he was drawing light into his hands once again, his magic molding it readily into shape. This time, the conjuring was far less dramatic. The ball of light stretched and pinched into a butterfly’s shape before his eyes, and his magic seemed to fill in the finer details for him, its figure and pattern growing more and more pronounced until a larger, more realistic, and notably less glowing butterfly sat in his palm.

“Ah,” Aaron breathed, stooping to get a closer look. He wasn’t sure if he’d made any species of butterfly that existed in life, but it looked pretty good to him; it was a little large, but passable, and had a little black body, antennae, and big, gold wings with black edges and eye-like markings in the centres. He held it out for Daun to view, noticing when he moved his hand that the image didn’t quite move in sync with him. All things considered, though, Aaron was happy; fine coordination would probably be a lesson for another night.

'Knowing the right people.' Were it not for decades spent on training his expression to remain perfectly neutral even in the most absurd statements, Ben may have actually rolled his eyes. In all honesty, Eris often tested his limits so it was not entirely surprising that the feeling surged with such ferocity. It was little wonder that Varis was constantly exasperated even if it made Ben wonder why the Sinnenodel would put up with such a person on a consistent basis. And supposedly they liked one another! What a baffling duo. What a baffling situation with a baffling, irritating man. What a baffling situation.

And speaking of baffling, with his thoughts back in order Ben did realize he did not appreciate Eris' statement nor the implication that he was not as informed. Perhaps he had a long standing informant or some rabid fan that fed him his information. More likely he took advantage of the current chaotic state of the divided Eve house in order to procure what he needed, which then begged the question as to why he had so much information. He would have to look into the star sooner than later if he ever wanted to remain ahead of the game, though that would be easier said than done if Eris was going to constantly drop newfound information like this constantly.

Ben chose not to speak, if only because Eris asked the question he had in mind. The thought formed a pit in his stomach; already he was greatly uncomfortable being informed of his own House's affairs, now he had to figure out how to handle having the same thought process as the errant actor.

Allergies. Huh, so that’s what they’re called. I should consult Maddie’s health report and do a little research just to be on the safe side. Amaris thought to herself as she imagined all of the possible consequences the professor had just described. How bizarre that the very thing the mortals needed to sustain themselves could also kill them with no warning. Leave it to nature to have such a twisted sense of humor.

There would be time later to ponder such things, though, as Nasir ushered the lesson along into their task for the day: the sandwich. Such creativity could only have been made possible by mortal-kind’s limited lifespan. There would be little to no need to seek out such extreme shortcuts, especially when it came to one’s food source, without the ever-looming presence of an existential expiration date. They always seemed to be in such a big rush and somewhere down the line it had resulted in the creation of what would be her very first culinary assignment. In theory, the goal was a simple one: put complementary items between two slices of bread. Easy… or so Amaris thought until Nasir wheeled his cart over for all to see.

One quick scan of the available foodstuffs was all it took to remind the countess why she was here. Amaris failed to recognize quite a few of the provided ingredients and had no idea where to start with combinations. Alas, it seemed that Nasir intended the students to approach the challenge via trial and error. With small plaques to act as their guides, the professor released the students to go about solving the culinary riddle.

“I suppose the best place to start would be the bread, right?” She spoke to herself softly as she set to work. Of all the available ingredients, bread was probably the one she had no problem with identifying. With her bases in place, it was time to figure out what she was going to put in the middle. A quick glance at several of the plaques didn’t appear to reveal a whole lot about the nutritional values so it would appear the trick to these sandwiches really did lie in the appeal. But what, then, paired well with one another? Did the textures of the ingredients matter? Or just the flavor profiles? Amaris spent the next couple of minutes reading up on and poking at the various items, sniffing cautiously at a few as she weighed her options.

At last, the countess was struck with inspiration, her hands moving quickly but gently to carefully construct the sandwich. The last thing she needed was to ruin the presentation because she couldn’t be delicate. When all was as she wanted it to be, Amaris took a step back and admired her work, excited to see what Nasir thought of her first attempt: A peanut butter and banana with sliced tomato sandwich.

Victor’s smile faded slightly at the instructors words, “very well still doesn’t change much from my plans. The story about pissing off the duke sounds fun. I don’t mind getting paired with the least experienced students.” He always did like to teach others but never really had the chance before.

Returning to his place in the arena slightly back from the others, the Astorio waited for the instructor to go over the ground rules before assigning pairs. Apparently this Melanie Saliu was going to be his partner. This Miss Saliu was easy to pick from the small crowd as she looked the most distraught after having her name called. They were slim in size and stature, nervous, with a rough voice and an awkward way about her. Even her curtsey was as shaky as her voice.

Victor’s eyes did not move from her they were almost looking into her soul. He didn’t change his stature or move in any way when she found her stance. With his arms crossed he looked like a statue. This form was broken when he started to walk around her, “hold that stance and I will adjust you.” The large vampire moved slowly and quietly around her barley making a sound. Then he got right up next to her without a hint of care for personal space.

With one foot he adjusted her forward foot and leg, “always keep this toward your enemy.” With his strong rough hands he brought her arms up and closed her fists to make an L shape with her head in-between them. “Keep your arms up in this defensive position to protect your head and never close your fist around your thumbs or you will break them.” Twisting her shoulders and pushing them back to straighten her posture and the last thing to be adjusted was her back leg.

Stepping back in front of her he nodded, “get familiar with this position it is both a good defensive and offensive stance especially for a beginner. Now then you know me but let me introduce myself, I am Victor Strigois Astorio Head hunter for the council and representative for the Astorio house at this school.” Giving her a nod of acknowledgement he continued. “Now Please Miss Saliu, tell me about yourself including where you are from, what combat or fighting experience you have, and why you are taking this class.”