[b]Ken Winwroc - Courtyard of Saint Valerius[/b]

"Doubtful." Ken said, looking towards Jon as he stated something about Cedric acting like a gentleman. "But... hopeful. Always hopeful." He sighs, tilting his head slightly while still looking at Jon, a slightly worried look now upon his face. With other nobles, Ken would not dare so such emotion in front of, at least not to this extent, but Jon was different. Always had been, even when they had first met all those years ago. A pang of guilt suddenly hit him though from having brought on such a look on his friends face, he did not like to see such a look on Jon's face... ever. Nor Nolan or anyone else, for that matter. 

"If you are truly strongly against it I will try to avoid it the best I can, maybe convince him we wont be doing anything today. I just... its easier to have him in sight than waiting in the dark, ya' know?" For once, Ken's voice cracked slightly and the word 'ya' was thrown in carelessly, but not from puberty and Ken was definitely not raised on a farm. He was bad at viewing people as 'bad', even if he knew it in his mind and heart that they were no good. Even talking about someone badly was... slightly difficult for him. He didn't like doing it and it bothered him. Lightly Ken moved a hand to lightly rub over where the scar would be upon his right leg, unconsciously. These were probably the only signs Ken was nervous or worried, and rubbing over the scar on his leg was only something recent. 

"I'll try to avoid it." And that was all Ken managed out as he stuffed his phone into his pocket, leaning over to rest his head against Nolan's shoulder. It was a bit hard to tell what Ken might have been nervous about, there was not a great deal that could make him nervous. 

-

[b]Sammuel Trunt / Tarisa Bell[/b]

"Alright, listen carefully because I am not going to the commoners rooms. You are to find your brightest most obnoxious shirt, jacket, shoes, socks, and pants. Call me once you find them and text me a picture. A good one. If you cannot get a good picture, you are to stand outside of my room until I exit. Now hurry up, you are stalling!" With that, Sam quickly started to hasten his pace as he began to pass Tarisa. 

"Wait, no, stop! Bring my bags and books with me to my room, I don't want to carry them." And Sam stopped dead in his tracks and allowed Tarisa to catch up to him with her small, light strides. As she passed him, he quickly followed behind her, lightly nodding his head.

"Good. And now that I think about it, I want you to wear those bright purple and pink glasses I got you last week. I know you can't see a thing with them on but they will match with whatever I pick out. Maybe I can put some bows in your hair! I should have left it long, I liked braiding it... but they got really mad when I dyed it that obscene shade of green!" Tarisa was so far wrapped up in her own little world of chattering away at the utterly silent Sam that she failed to notice a few other students rushing down the hallway from the Noble's wing. She slammed directly into them, causing her to spin and land flat on her ass with a loud yelp. They merely laughed and continued on their way while Tarisa merely sat on the floor, wide-eyed. 

Sam wished the wide-eyed look had lasted. While she had brought herself into a better mood just a few moments ago, the scowl was instantly back on her face. She did not bother trying to hide her true feelings with her Knight, because no matter how she acted, unless she gave him an order, he wouldn't do anything unless she was seriously wounded or in danger.

"Sammuel C. Trunt!" The young, long black-haired girl started in a screech. The tone that caused people to flinch or to back away, Sam stood still, just holding her books and bag as he had been instructed. He stared down at her with his grey-eyed gaze, nothing to read on his face. "On your knees, this instant!" She snarled.

Without skipping a breath, Sam quickly lifted a hand up and tugged off his glasses from his face, stuffing them into the front pocket of his coat while he dropped down to one knee a short distance away from his noble, who was now pushing herself onto her feet with much irritation. Her motions were jerky, her hands were shaking, even her face was a bit red with embarrassment. As she got to her feet she dusted off her uniform and then turned to Sam. Sam, who now had his head bent while he rested upon his knees while still holding onto the four books in his grasps and her bag. 

"Left cheek or right?" She asks, tilting her head a bit as a rather dark shadow falls over her face. "Or maybe I should find Cedric! He always seems to like punishment games, I am sure Ethan will have some fun, too. Actually, yes, I like that idea. Get on your feet, we are going to find Cedric!" She proclaims, bouncing right back into a good mood as she turns down into the Noble's hallway. Sam merely pushes himself up off of the ground and quickly follows after her, keeping his head lowered.