[b]Vyvyan Ngiwan[/b]

The Doolittle Raid from behind had come out of left field—though a few moments consideration about the flow of traffic (i.e. largely in the same direction) quickly resulted in a sigh—though its harm was minimal. In fact, seeing the clumsy girl resume charging ahead reminded Vyvyan to go a tad quicker and reach the Sun Room punctually, which he was going to credit to the accident, as some sort of silent forgiveness.

The hall certainly felt like an architecture student's dream. Stained windows, filtering the sun's rays into all shades and colours, were always rather entrancing, as was the show of dust particles in the light. Seeing the stairs around the podium did give Vyvyan half a heart attack, though, til he remembered (and personally witnessed) that a ramp had been prepared.

Mr Loyola's entrance speech was a first. The massive man's humrous nature had become clear to the transfer student after some months in the academy, however, and it did not surprise Vyvyan at all to hear jokes being cracked. Quietly, he watched, restraining himself from overtly laughing along. 

The Ceremony went exactly as his seniors had described... [i]Underwhelming,[/i] compared to the depictions of visibly swirling streams of magic, or red string entwining the pair's fates. With all the students, the sacrāmentum had to be done en masse. It was honestly reminiscent of the average awards ceremony—tedious or nerve-wracking until you get up on stage for the anticlimatic receiving of the prize, a moment that lasts no more than a minute.

Or marriage, though some would prefer not to draw such analogies, despite the reality of the phenomenon. Especially due to the reality of the phenomenon. Legal marriages are stacks of paperwork, ceremonial marriages elaborate and involving much thrown rice. Traditional bonding celebrations comprised banquets and all sorts of things, though only his clothes had anything to do with those. The distance between home and St Fortuna's was simply too great for a physical event, but Vyvyan knew his family would send their well wishes in due time.

A number of mage-famliar pairs had gone up before long, the introduction of two more Druids expediting the process, and Vyvyan could swear that he was getting feverish. One hand on his forehead, he murmured, trying to sooth himself, "O great mystery and wonderful sacrāmentum..."

"Ngiwan Ziajk Liep, Vyvyan Imperial and Samuel Deniel!"

Hey, the headmaster pronounced everything pretty well! Not easy at all. Just 'Vyvyan Ngiwan' would have worked just as well, but the records had his entire name plus comma, so... Not much he could do about it other than get a name change.

Being seated at the front, Vyvyan had expected to reach the stage first, only to see Samuel, a fellow black-haired boy, beat him to it while patiently waiting for the ramp to be set up. The Sun Room's age and lack of recent renovation meant it was nowhere near as accesible as the rest of the school, but that was thankfully not the norm.

Several seconds later, Vyvyan rolled onto the stage, stopping short enough of his mage partner and future roommate of the school year. Even without an A* in literature, the fact that Vyvyan's anxiety was mutual was apparent.

Vyvyan was grateful that his skirt-pants concealed his legs, now shaking visibly if not outright spasming, as he took a shot of air and greeted, "Ah, Samuel, good morning. I'm Vyvyan... Ngiwan."

Why was his name suddenly so difficult to say?! The headmaster hollered it just fine!

"I'm rather nervous, so, uhm... Let's...?" Without thinking or understanding what he himself was trying to communicate, Vyvyan extended his hands, cautiously. The best icebreakers would be done off-stage, right?