[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/vcyTlTu.png[/img][/center][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][/center][hr][center][color=silver]𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟛, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   ℂ𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕟 ℂ𝕦𝕝𝕡𝕒𝕖 𝟙   / /   ℕ𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕟 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕤𝕜𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕤   / /  𝟚𝟙𝟚𝟙[/color][/center][hr]

What information they had gathered on each other in the truck was mostly jumbled in Christmas’s mind as the battlefield and the beacon of light that was their field commander came into view. Somewhere in the back of his thoughts, Christmas was glad there was sufficient light on the field, but he hadn’t wanted to be on the field in the first place.

Lawrence’s words about being careful with his blood were still ringing in his mind, just as loudly as the memories of his mother’s commands about being a “good boy no matter what.” Breathing deeply, Christmas remained pressed against the back of the truck for a moment longer before putting [i]Meditations[/i] down on the seat and finally filing outside with everyone else just in time to see someone run over to give them general commands. It wasn’t Ethan, but that made sense considering how much work Ethan was putting in, holding back all those creatures while outnumbered 10-to-1.

Christmas blanched at the mention that other subnaturals had been lost to the extent that sending out completely new students was considered a good thing. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be anywhere, really.

As the battle raged on a safe distance away, several meatball monsters were making their clumsy way towards the group Director Zhang had designated as the “green team,” and this would have been surprisingly frightening enough but for the guy suddenly stripping down and curling up on the ground. Completely naked.

Stuck between crippling fear and complete bewilderment, Christmas turned away with a cry of dismay, making sure to avoid any glances in that general direction as his hands instinctively curled up against his collar bone, fingers rigidly arched into a gesture of cringing that matched the bemused grimace on his face. He had certainly seen provocative content over the years, but there was something significantly wrong about watching someone abandon clothing the way anyone else would abandon hope and curling up on the ground to scream.

[color=8493ca]“Um…”[/color] Christmas looked at Lawrence before pointing a hesitant finger in the general direction of the screams, still not looking. [color=8493ca]“Do you…think he needs help?”[/color] he asked quietly, hoping Lawrence would have an explanation for something so bizarre.

"[color=00ffbb]He'll be fine, he's just readying his magic. Some of us are luckier than others in that department.[/color]" 

Lawrence’s easy answer was a quiet relief to Christmas, who directed his focus fearfully to the group of monsters until a sudden sense of stillness washed over him accompanied by a gentle white glow. To Christmas, it wasn’t “calm” like someone was enjoying or truly relaxing, but a sort of forced acceptance. He blinked in confusion, glad to be able to assess the situation without panicking, but also completely out of his depth now that his reflexive emotional responses were no longer available to him.

"[color=00ffbb]Try to relax, all right? Stick close to me and I'll try to keep us both alive.[/color]"

He nodded dumbly in response to Lawrence’s command and carefully grabbed the hem of the taller student’s jacket between his thumb and index finger, his grip light enough to let go should Lawrence need to move quickly away, but steady enough to keep him following and close in the face of the battlefield’s distractions.

"[color=00ffbb]I mentioned my power on the ride over? This glow means my magic is being used. Normally I'd ask you guys ahead of time before screwing with your heads, but this is a life or death situation. You can bitch at me afterwards if we live.[/color]"

Even through the magic, Lawrence’s qualification on the statement made Christmas’s grip tremble ever so slightly.

He let go when Lawrence prepped to fire the shotgun and covered his ears as commanded. Able to maintain his presence of mind courtesy of Lawrence’s magic, Christmas didn’t bolt for the hills as he normally would have, though the thunderous clap of the firing gun still made him reflexively flinch.

It was, in more ways than one, the signal to begin.