It wasn't much too difficult to pass through unnoticed, despite his daunting height and cumbersome form. Jayden held an agile grace about him that his stature didn't quite represent well, if not entirely debunked the idea, but alas, Jayden often found himself more surefooted than most. So, finding a way to slip through the crowd of students, lunch in hand and a wary feature set, Jayden through to the courtyard of Beacon, sat quiet upon a ledge to eat in peace. Of course, team bonding was at the top priority it was still technically their first casual day together. They'd set up a system in the heat of battle, sure, but Jayden in combat and Jayden in everyday life were two separate entities and it, though it came hard to admit, Jayden lacked the confidence he showed in himself outside of the field of battle. Tedious conversations and mishaps seemed far too trivial to take part in, or in reality, it put far too much pressure on Jayden than he knew he was used to or knew he could handle, for that matter.

Quiet courtyards, sparse of any distractions aside from those wanted (birds, bugs, and the breeze) provided a better environment for Jayden to relax in. His battle, unfortunately, subsided promptly and came more as a shock than anything else—uneventful, to say the least, and maybe just a tad bit disappointing. Jayden refused to put up a fuss, however, and accepted the far too easy win in lieu of further moments to himself and the prospect of having those moments in solitude. Rayna and Victor would certainly be able to do without him and his stalwart figure, not to mention unassuming rabbit ears. Plus, Jayden was far too hungry and he'd suspected that if hadn't taken the chance to leave, he might not have had the opportunity to eat. Lunch times in any kind of educational system didn't really provide the time for their children to eat. More so, the students didn't provide themselves any time to eat—high hormone levels and puberty tended to raise priority on antics over that of getting food in one's stomach, at least from Jayden's perspective.

With the bell tone ringing in his ears, Jayden stood from his perch on the low wall to dispose of the food he hadn't eaten and the tray within the cafeteria before promptly making his way toward his next class. Grimm Studies, something Jayden took delight in, though not necessarily for the reason of defeating them in numerous, creative ways. He refused to voice his opinions and his delight in studying Grimm in a more scientific way rather than combative, as Beacon didn't necessarily nurture that in their students, or at least that's what most students would assume. Such a thought urged Jayden to take the furthest seat in the back, away from all the other students and for more reasons than he had a different opinion than them. Most people didn't take to faunus lightly and Jayden's ears were a glowing beacon for people to comment on. They were large, occasionally floppy, and most of all, they were a stark tinge of black, with a base of largely white, and speckles of dark green scattered about that stood out most definitely against the backdrop of his own jet black hair.

Hands folded along the desk, highest and furthest back, Jayden paid close attention to the students of the classroom, though kept most of his focus on his teacher and what he had to say. Of course, he wasn't exactly expecting for the first class to be so... hands on and the query for volunteers flared Jayden's anxiety tenfold. Ears folding downward in an attempt to shrink, Jayden leaned back into his chair, hands sinking into his lap as his eyes scanned the room in antiipation.

[h2][/h2]

"You realize it's your job to assist students with behavioral issues, right?" Ahriman's hands flicked over his roster, leaning informally against Solomon's desk with little concern for the man fussing over coffee in the corner of his office. Why he wouldn't just head over to the break room for freshly brewed coffee amazed Ahriman, but he wouldn't bring it up. With Solomon's ailment, having things he needed or wanted within reach was far simpler.

With a frustrated sigh, Solomon slammed his personal coffee mug down and spun to face Ahriman. "And you realize you're wasting your prep time making googly eyes at another teacher," he retorted before returning to fixing his coffee machine. A light haze floated along Ahriman's features, promptly followed by a quiet grumble only the stag faunus' ears could quite catch. A small smile lit Ahriman's lips as he pushed off from the desk.

"Jealous of a piece of paper," he stated, "how very like you."

"Not jealous," Solomon's responded, quiet as the coffee machine finally whirred to life, "just frustrated—by other means, of course. Children are... difficult. Remind me not to convince you to get one."

"Duly noted," Ahriman spoke, grinning as he moved into Solomon's space, placing a light peck on the man's stubbled cheek. "Don't forget to pick up your mail. There's quite a few important things that require your attention, from Ozpin, I suspect. Or Goodwitch, both are rather important," Ahriman huffed, hushed as he laid another chaste kiss on Solomon's cheek, "I'll see you later tonight; don't stress yourself out, this time. I'd like someone to actually eat the dinner I make." 

"I'll try not to if you promise not to kill any kids this year," Solomon shot, turning to face a retreating Ahriman as he moved to exit the office.

"Your miscreants left, by the way," Ahriman called back, "And it was his fault for not telling me he required an inhaler beforehand."

"Did you seriously—"

"No, just... mild brain damage."

"Because brain damage can be considered mild, right."