Days go by...

Tria 46rd, 81379

Sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed, holding a gleaming rectangle of mirrored glass in his hand, Tesreail frowned as he gingerly inspected his handiwork. A fresh cut had split his left ear near the heavily furred base, and rather than go to the school nurse heÂ’d opted to sew it up himself. The fur around the area was still wet from water and the antibacterial goop heÂ’d massaged into the tender flesh around the stitches. Not for the first time in his life did he wish he had his adoptive mothers knack for healing, for the constant trips to the nurses or the medicine cabinet in his rooms small bathroom were getting tiresome. But his chosen trades clashed horribly on an elemental scale. Dark Sorcery was on the negative side, and healing on the positive. The years heÂ’d spent conditioning his body to channel the negative forces had left him with little to none positive charge. As a result, the last time heÂ’d tried healing himself with magic heÂ’d passed out and broken his wrist in the subsequent fall.

Setting the mirror down on his bedspread, the arden sighed and reached for the clean stack of neatly folded laundry heÂ’d just brought back from the communal Laundromats in the dorms. HeÂ’d just come out of the bathroom, his fur still slightly damp from his almost scaldingly hot shower and his hair hanging lank in a rather unusual (well, for Tesreail anyway) plait. A towel hung around his shoulders, keeping his hair from dripping down onto the dark jeans he had slipped on after cleaning himself up. Discarding the towel and fishing around until he had located a suitable shirt, Tesreail pulled the neutral gray tee over his head and tugged it down over his torso, hissing quietly as he stretched sore muscles in his back and shoulders.

Digitigrade feet were shoved into modified socks that allowed the clawed toes to stick out while covering the main arch of his foot, each toe wigging experimentally as he tried the garments on for the first time. A fellow student who had –much to Tes’ chagrin- seen the hair-fine scars that crisscrossed his footpads had recommended them to him. He’d taken the suggestion to heart, and after a few failed attempts with a finicky sewing machine, had come up with something that fit the student’s description. Mumbling to himself a reminder to thank the helpful niotie in his class, he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. A few whispered goodbyes to his harok Hoshiko and his and his roommates alughas, and he was out the door and waiting for the elevator up to the main level.

He was lucky today. There seemed to be some unofficial Jemdrull match going on in the Tsupeon, and as a result the halls were near abandoned and he was alone on his silent ride in the small metal car. As the back-lit buttons above the door flashed through the numbers Tesreail yawned and sniffed lightly at the air. Ugh. He smelled like a doctors office, with the cleaning astringent he had used making his eyes water in their sockets. Maybe thatÂ’s why heÂ’d gotten the car to himself. Ruffling his bangs in an annoyed gesture, Tes ducked through the doors as soon as they began to slide open. He made himself as inconspicuous as possible, trying to avoid as much eye contact as possible as the halls began to be more and more populated.

He had to weave through a small crowd as he approached the cafeteria, apparently the morning rush was just leaving, leaving the brunch crowd like himself to deal with the onslaught of students rushing out of the swinging doors and dashing off to who knows where. The dark furred arden had more breathing space once he made it inside the café’, shifting the weight of his bags strap slightly so he could pull out his student I.D and shuffle into the slow line for coffee.

Only once he had a steaming Styrofoam cup did he slide into one of the smaller tables, purposely picking a spot against the wall and half hidden by a large plant display. Making himself comfortable in the seat, he glanced around the large room while waiting for his coffee to cool. Okay, she wasnÂ’t there yet. HeÂ’d have to wait it out. Digging out a textbook from one of his advanced Daemon and Darkness classes, he buried his face into the chapter about famous necromancers and became entranced with the thick tome almost instantly.

 

Having thumbed to a rather captivating (well, in his mind) chapter on reanimation and its facts and fiction, Tesreail had turned all his attention towards the book in his grasp. With his eyes fixated on the small, almost hard to read text, heÂ’d completely missed SchismÂ’s arrival to the Cafeteria. Had he been paying attention, rather than partaking of his morning caffeine rations while balancing the heavy leather-bound tome with one hand, he would have seen her enter and file into line. But alas, he was more preoccupied with trying not to spill coffee on himself, or worse, the book.

And so it was that SchismÂ’s approach was unnoticed by the dark red arden, and that the gentle puff of breath on his cheek startled him from his reading with a sudden jolt. Thankfully, his cup was almost empty by that point, or heÂ’d have a face full of only slightly less than unpalatably hot liquid. His face swung around, his good eye filled with a mix of surprise, curiosity and just a hint of fear. TesÂ’ grim visage faded into an embarrassed smile when he saw who it was, and his face and ears immediately grew hot, the latter visibly flushing red.

More than a little shy at the best of times, and quite unused to being called… well anything, the playful dubance of ‘handsome’ only made him blush more violently, his smile threatening to crack into a pleased grin. Mentally he was doing a little dance, both mortified and gleeful. The first was simply from the fact that no one, save for his mother, had referred to him as such, and the second was because it was Schi who had said it. Schism. Schism had called him handsome. Whether or not she was just being playful or friendly didn’t matter to him at that time, he was still riding that emotional roller coaster.

Pulse already racing from the combination of excitement and adrenaline coursing through his veins, he snapped out of his momentary lapse to smile warmly at the thill. He had to swallow to clear the lump that had formed in his throat at her arrival before he could speak, but when he did his voice was clear of itÂ’s usual stutter (albeit a bit bashful).

<span style='color:gray'>“’Morning Schi’,"</span> he smiled, carefully closing the book and pushing it aside while at the same time gesturing to it, <span style='color:gray'>“I was just brushing up for my DD Lore courses while I waited for you."</span> Book now out of the way, he closed both hands around the still warm cup in front of him, absently blowing a few errant stands of hair from his face.

<span style='color:gray'>“How’ve you been?"</span> Tes asked quietly, his eyes glancing from between Schism’s face and the coffee, seemingly unable to look at either for very long without getting either flustered or guilty (he was always getting heckled by his teachers for his lack of poor eye contact these days).

 

Tesreail played with the edge of his cup, teasing the little piece of Styrofoam that broke off into his fingers as he did so. Huh… He wondered what it was like to have family to visit. At this point, his only ‘family’ was his pets, although that really didn’t count in the long run. He could tell them about his day, and Hoshiko was great for when he was feeling down, but they couldn’t really return his affectionate words and gestures.

Draining the last dregs of his drink, TesÂ’ deftly chucked the now empty cup into a nearby garbage can. Lacing his now empty fingers together on the tabletop, Tesreail sighed under his breath. He never was good in this kind of situation. For some reason that still eluded him he was fine talking to his elders and young children, but his peers made him tongue tied and nervous. It didnÂ’t help that he had more than a passing infatuation with SchiÂ’.

"Oh, Hoshi?"

He came out of his reverie when Schism sprung her questions, his head jerking up suddenly as if he had momentarily forgotten she was there. Tucking his hair back once again, he bobbed his head in acknowledgement, his words slightly stuttered.

"H-HoshikoÂ’s good. IÂ’mÂ… fine."

Well it was mostly true. Hoshi was a plump and carefree as ever, possibly more so, and he wasn’t missing any important –or unimportant for that matter- limbs. Besides, if he ignored the twinge in his ear and the reek of rubbing alcohol, he could pretend nothing bad had happened.