[u][h3][color=mediumpurple]Grey Onyx[/color][/h3][/u]

Grey grimaced. He was far too used to Tyrael hurling death threats around to be too surprised, but all the same. [b][color=mediumpurple]"Lord Tyrael, he is not a threat..."[/color][/b] he stated with an even, albeit exasperated tone as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course,
 he also recognized that he might just be putting on a show. He was dramatic like that. [b][color=mediumpurple]"For Gaurot's sake, there's only a one-in-fifteen chance he'll be one of your students, you can save the tough act."[/color][/b] And then he heard Henri speak. With possibly the worst choice of words he could have managed. 

He moved himself between the two of them and looked over his shoulder toward Tyrael. His gaze was pleading, as if to say 'please let me handle him.' Thankfully, it seemed like Tyrael would be leaving without flaying the poor boy. He sighed, turning back to the boy. [b][color=mediumpurple]"I am going to speak plainly. That 'Thing' is the demonomancy instructor, and you will show [i]him[/i] the proper respect he deserves."[/color][/b] He stated, keeping a strong grip on the boy. [b][color=mediumpurple]"And while none of the other instructors... hell, no one else on Tiien is like him, you can't just go around casually insulting people that can kill you with a thought. Less than that, actually."[/color][/b] He let go, taking a step back and cracking his neck. [b][color=mediumpurple]"Look... I'm sure you're a good kid. I just don't wanna see anyone get hurt because they can't keep their mouth shut. Alright?"[/color][/b] He said, his tone much softer. He turned to head inside, beckoning him to follow. 


[u][h3][color=fff200]Alaira Taenn[/color][/h3][/u]

Alaira smirked, folding her arms. [b][color=fff200]"Heh, cute."[/color][/b] she said, looking over her shoulder. She seemed just a little surprised to see him, not something that was easily picked up on. Just the slightest tensing as she looked off to the side. She was quiet as he spoke, hiding her mouth behind her hand. She tensed again when Helena seemed to agree, albeit much less subtly this time. 

[b][color=fff200]"I... that's- No, it's really important."[/color][/b] She said, looking increasingly uncomfortable. While Helena had just met her and didn't know a whole lot about her personality or mannerisms, Athalus would know that Alaira would not show weakness like that easily, nor would she pass on an opportunity to beat someone else and talk about weapons at the same time. So either someone had apparently decided to impersonate her, or she was really worried about something. [b][color=fff200]"Look, I gotta go... I'll teach you how to use a [i]proper[/i] weapon later."[/color][/b] She said, apparently not so distressed as to completely forget her utter disdain for knives.

She smiled weakly and gave a short wave as she turned and marched down the hallway at a brisk pace. She didn't really give them an opportunity to follow, as the moment she rounded a corner she bounded through the halls with the assistance of her Aeromancy. She sat against a wall once she was far enough, sighing as she looked down to her arm, wrapped in the bandages. She'd thought she didn't care about the scars. Thought it didn't matter how ugly she was. And the person she was a few years ago certainly thought so. But if that was still the case, why did she wear the bandages? Why did she hide it? These scars weren't like the ones she had before. Those were proud scars. But these... These were a mark of failure. 

She was too stubborn to admit it, but her time here had changed her. Before she hardly thought about anything. She just mindlessly stumbled across the land from town to town in whatever direction the next fight was in. She hadn't cared before. She hadn't cared about anyone else, and least of all herself. So what if she fell? There was nobody for her to fight for, and nobody would mourn her, for she was just an engine of violence. Now though, there were others in her life. People she cared about, and people that were around to call her out on her faults. The reason she hated that Eysire, Ssarak so much was that he was often right about her. She simply threw herself at whatever problem in her way with little thought, and never took responsibility for her failures. 

She would have brushed him off before, she wouldn't listen. But now... it mattered what other people thought of her now. Thug, brute, monster. All of those words were just white noise before, but now they hurt. Because they were right, or at least she thought so. Who would want someone like her? Someone as ugly on the inside as they were on the outside. She'd tried to just suffer quietly, foolish pride forbidding her from speaking to anyone, seeking help. After all, for all her newfound perspective she was still herself. She still feared the appearance of weakness. But... it hadn't worked out. 

She sighed and rose, shaking as she reached for the door to the office of the Vitamancy instructor. She knocked three times, though she opened the door a crack anyway. [b][color=fff200]"Uhm, L-lidda? Are you here?"[/color][/b] She asked with uncharacteristic meekness. [b][color=fff200]"It's, er, Alaira. One of Serge's students."[/color][/b] Now, she didn't really, well, [i]know[/i] the Vitamancy Master or anything. Had only spoken to her a few times, mostly being scolded for going to hard on someone in a sparring match. But she was the only one that could possibly give her what she needed right now.