Hurried

[Wesley Wickercy]

Wesley crossed the sun room. With great disregard to anything much around him, he found the spot which he had sat before. It was a brightly lit, sun drenched area both comfortable and inviting in its shimmer. His reason for returning was to collect what he'd forgotten. However, what he had hunted was not to be found. With a snap of anger he pushed his hair from his face and sunk into a chair. The lost parchment would no doubt cause him great distress as rewriting such an essay would be no easy task.

[Lexi Summers]

ooc- i don't know if this one's open.. am I allowed to reply?

[Wesley Wickercy]

ooc: If you want. Ian was going to join, the more the merrier.

[Ian Flanagan]

"Hey," Ian said softly, taking a seat in a chair nearby and leaning onto its arm. He looked to Wesley. "You look frustrated. Classes getting to you?" He smiled sympathetically at the boy from the stairs, wondering who he was and what he'd wanted with Orean Belore. Ian fingered a bracelet on his wrist, twisting the thing about in a new nervous habit as he tried a bit of civility with this unknown Aeridorn.

[Ian Flanagan]

ooc: yeah feel free to jump in too.

[Wesley Wickercy]

"I'm afraid I've lost a rather important scroll of archment, the contents of which held in their power my potions grade." He was more annoyed with himself than angry and held his tone civil and happy as not to offend the Wolfsbane. "I'll be apt to rewrite it I guess, and you? All well?"

[Ian Flanagan]

Ian smiled falsely. "Just wonderful," he said with traditional bravado; though in truth he was far from wonderful; not that he cared overmuch to share his trouble with Killy, nor admit that enough time had passed that they could not even be deemed as such, with Killy, but rather remained about her. "I'm guessing you've memory enough of your topic, but if you need any help, I'm not terrible at Potions and I'd be willing to offer assistance . . ."

[Wesley Wickercy]

He thanked the Wolfsbane for his kindness but turned down the offer. He couldn't see imposing on one he knew so little. He curiousity continued to build as he sat about the events on the stairs the day before. Wondering if it would be wrong of him to ask about it he thought for a moment then resigned to. "I hope I was not the cause of any inconvience between Jean and yourself..."

[Ian Flanagan]

"Between . . .? No, I'm sure you weren't," Ian said with a dismissive little laugh. He waved his hand and smiled awkwardly, looking down and away. "He just-it- I don't know, it's some sort of self-righteous Kinrick thing. I swear they're more stubborn than the Everards at times. He doesn't like me. I don't even remember why anymore; we were friends, there was coffee . ..words . . ." Ian shrugged and sighed, and looked suddenly more troubled than he ought have.

[Wesley Wickercy]

"I couldn not see coffee being the source of any hate, unless that is it was badly brewed. In which case it could very well start wars." With a small laugh, which he wasn't sure was the proper way to handle his aquatences situation. "From what I've heard he's a very likable person, as I suspect is the reason for his position in the house which he is in." He stopped and looked at him. "Though, if you've fallen from his good graces I doubt it any large loss."

[Ian Flanagan]

Ian's face crossed first with a wave of displeasure and then one of acceptance. "Well, I don't fall, such a graceless word I'd have the artistry to avoid, I would hope. Even in that metaphorical sense, I'm not apt to be tumbling. But perhaps this is a little less than I would hope for." Ian's eyes glinted green and blue, confusion and indecision their persona as well as his.

[Wesley Wickercy]

"I don't mean to offened, I'm sorry if I did." He looked down and in a truly sorrowful state for having seemingly said what he shouldn't have apologised again for his prior statement. He then attempted a change in subject, inquiring about Ian's plans for the evening.

[Ian Flanagan]

"Mine?" Ian sighed, and shook his head, rubbing his neck. "They say I made a fool of myself at teh last party . . . I'm disinclined to believe it, but who knows; some Kinrick jerk decided to be 'helpful' and gave me some pill." Ian laughed bitterly. "So I'm doubting I'll drink at the bonfire tonight. Although if the Kinrick's throw a shallow party, I believe I've promised a few people I'd show. Otherwise, I'm guessing that my sketches want to be more than scribbles, and I've no objection to cuddling up to a few pounds of clay . . . quite random, but fun." He grinned at the thought.

[Wesley Wickercy]

"I've never been to one myself, the bonfires." He admitted looking at Ian. "Kinrick parties however I often frequent." He shook his head. "You shouldn't take pills from random tweaked Kinricks, even if the promise its 'really good sh-t." He laughed and then nodded, as if affirming the seriousness of his statement.

[Ian Flanagan]

Ian laughed too, and said, "Truth be told, I'm not sure if Brandon really had no clue, or if he just wanted to amuse himself by watching me suffer." Ian shrugged at this. "Kinricks have proved to be an interesting bunch. My friend Jean-" He stopped, and looked confused. "Never mind. I forgot we're not friends anymore." With an exasperated sound, Ian rolled his eyes and smiled at Wesley. "I shall remember your advice on Kinricks and stick to the not-so-randomly-tweaked Wolfsbanes for my narcotic needs. Which don't run too high. Unlike the Kinricks," he rambled.