[@Write][@Plank Sinatra]

[B]Gratia Mindaro - Behind the Café[/b]

Two pale fingers immediately pressed firm against Nuit's forehead, halting her attempt at even coming close enough to embrace Gratia. The ponytail-wearing Mistralese girl stared unflinchingly into her former teammate's blue eyes, her onyx gaze as cold and uncaring as even the hardest of gems. She pushed lightly, the sudden effort at her fingertips forcing her friend back a step, before lowering her right arm to her side.

She refused to be hugged.

She rejected it.

[i][color=66cd00]Not the fucking time.[/color][/i]

Her left hand rose up.

Dangling from her fingers was her phone, an old, scratched silver model that looked to have seen its fair share of wear, but despite its age, the tiny numbers displayed on its small LCD screen were still clearly legible.

"[color=66cd00]Student counseling,[/color]" Gratia Mindaro explained flatly without any prompting, her eyes never wavering. "[color=66cd00]To prove that your birdbrain's more functional than some lobotomised whore drooling to their death from a Rohypnol overdose.[/color]"

Her thumb moved over the 'call' button.

"[color=66cd00]Revert all the bullshit you've pulled today,[/color]" she ordered. "[color=66cd00]And give me a reason why you shouldn't be talking to a fucking shrink right now instead of trying to direct some shitty Atlesian operative to your vagina.[/color]"

Bianca Nuit appeared appropriately contrite and chastised for pulling the most retarded fucking bullshit she had seen in a long time, but the girl was off. Had been off. It [i]irked[/i] her. The black-haired teenager had already confronted the birdbrain on the fake healthiness during the cruise, but the events that followed had stopped her from revisiting the issues. Distracted from them. Did Nuit really think that regaining her wings and then taking a [s]pleasure[/s] cruise was all that was needed to make her shit smell like roses again? After the state she had been in when Gratia had found her?

[i][color=66cd00]Don't make me fucking laugh.[/color][/i]

The erraticism of Nuit was the clincher.

The issues needed to be addressed.

Bianca Nuit would not have acted in such an excessively rash and irresponsible manner in her normal state of mind.

[i][color=66cd00]And this certainly isn't what you call goddamn normal.[/color][/i]

To simply ignore it?

Gratia Mindaro refused.
[hr]
[b]Mindaro Mondays - Café[/b]

Jericho's reward from the Mindaros were an example of what one would call 'contrast'.

Galla Mindaro, upon closing the distance to receive the coffee from the Atlesian, merely nodded in acknowledgement of his deeds, taking the warm beverage with no sign of being affected by the heat or appreciating the fact that a handsome young man had made her a drink.

Her parents, however, were all warm smiles and laughs, with Severa immediately beaming at Jericho as she took the two lattes, and Valentinian lightly clapping him on the shoulder in thanks for his hard work (while also beaming, his smile growing widely underneath his moustache).

"[color=ADFF2F]No wonder you're popular with les filles,[/color]" said Valentinian good-naturedly. "[color=ADFF2F]Making good coffee is un talent super.[/color]"

"[color=9ACD32]Your future partner will surely appreciate it,[/color]" added Severa with a sagely nod, emerald eyes locking onto Jericho's.