[i]Elizabeth Hawkins[/i] - [u]Arthur and [s]Morgan Le Fay[/s] an Alchemist[/u]

[color=f6989d][i]Well well, doesn't he have quite the rigid upper lip[/i]?[/color]

Once his eyebrows raised and he looked across the table at her so tensely, Elizabeth actually paused for a brief moment. Even over half a decade later, she knew all too well the tell of a warning glance. Certainly he was here for another reason other than just education then, perchance something was amiss? Had the old codger of a wizard sensed something and sent the descendant of the one true King to sniff out the troubles?

Plucking up another piece of the standard mediocre fanfare that was school cafeteria food, she took a bite and slowly chewed upon it. Though certainly it wasn't the best for her palate, it bought her a second to consider what had just transpired.

He had been deadly serious, a warning glance. So sharp was it that it even sent a chilling sense of unease down the length of her spine. Though on the exterior, she didn't show a hint of this concern. As always, she lightly bore a coy smirk upon her lips and little else. There was no room to lose her façade here, that would be for later when she stole Michael away for private conversation.

Yet when he called her a Harpy, her cheeks puffed out slightly in indignation. Perhaps after all that nonsense and trouble she had inflicted upon him during their childhood earned her such, however that was still a bit rude!

Not only that, but further rudeness continued with him urging that she stopped talking like her normal self!

[i][color=f6989d]Now that's a little insulting, little King. Don't you think?[/color][/i]

[color=f6989d]"Well, when the bloody Yanks cease with their amorphous codswallop of an abomination to the [i][b]English[/b][/i] language, then I'll stop talking like the proper Brit I am! Not this cobbler of a tongue that the Yanks use."[/color] She stated defiantly at first, continuing on with her British musings with her dry sense of humor alongside it.

[color=f6989d]"That and when the Yanks apologize for the travesty that was...the...what did they call it? Ah yes! The Boston Tea Party! More like the [i]Boston Off Your Trolley Party[/i]! Those who waste good tea should be held at Her Majesty's Pleasure, even to this day."[/color] Though her humor seemed off in a sense to most, it certainly would be understood by the boy who sat across from her. 

Yet the one that drew the most worrisome concern was the fidgety boy that Michael seemed to have befriended. His introduction, his complaint about severe migraines, it all seemed a little off. 

[i][color=f6989d]Strange little bugger, isn't he?[/color][/i]

More concerning than that even was the bizarre chuckle that rumbled forth, even in the state of obviously painfully bleeding palms. Glancing at them first, and then at what seemed to be a blatantly disheveled state; Elizabeth considered for at least a moment or two if this boy was actually mad. Deducing in fact that he quite probably was. The way he chuckled, even though none of them had told a joke. 

It was an insidious giggle, and it granted more insight than what he'd probably like. Caution would be taken around this one, as she gained a more reserved state quickly.

[color=f6989d]"Pleasure to meet you, Kiddo."[/color] She added elegantly, soothingly no doubt. [color=f6989d]"My name is Elizabeth Hawkins."[/color] Though she wouldn't extend a hand in greeting, as his palms were still obviously bleeding. That, and she was being guarded about herself. Something that would mark as peculiar, especially for the Alchemist.

Even in their childhood, she had been quite amicable and cheerful to almost anyone she met. Now would have been an incredibly stark contrast. Digging around in her purse however, she acquired a few pieces of gauze and band-aid for him to dress the punctures on his hand. Carefully, she slid it across the table towards the obviously unbalanced boy.

[color=f6989d]"Well, please see to it you dress those wounds. I'd rather not see you get blood all over your food. But in other matters,"[/color] She turned to her childhood friend with eyebrows raised in similarly cautionary fashion. Even then however, she still wore a charmingly amused smile. [color=f6989d]"Would you fancy to catch some tea with me after lunch, Michael? I'd love to catch up with you again; don't worry though, it'll be out by the theater so none of the girls in the dormitories chat you up any."[/color]