[b]Gratia Mindaro - Cafeteria [/b]

>An ornithopter bound for Mistral seems like a fucking enormous piece of shit to shove up there.
>You must have practiced a lot to fit it in.

Gratia allowed her eyes to wander across the room. Sweaty, unwashed masses of the lesser surrounded her, their irksome chit-chatter filling the air around her lone table. It was utterly irking, annoying and completely unwanted. But that was the life of a student, to spend one's time amongst the inferior.

Like the beacon of a lighthouse surveying the night seas for inbound ships, the headphone-wearing girl's eyes scanned across the room with unwavering intensity. For all that she seemed bored out of her fucking skull, she was intent on studying everyone. 

>Cafeteria. 

For example, one thing that piqued her interest was Mr Luke Schwarz, who was sitting alone at the table right next to her. 

Specifically, that strange moving strand of hair.

What made it move?