[color=#F87217]“Nah.”[/color] Epsilon waved her hand a little, as if physically brushing the words away. [color=#F87217]“You don’t have to be a saint to be ‘good’, kiddo. Just being decent can make you good a lot of the time.”[/color] Irvine’s attempt at a smile looked a bit...odd. Definitely forced. Like he was trying to get psyched about licking a cockroach on live TV for twenty bucks, but really wasn’t feeling it deep down in his guts. Epsilon shook some of the ash from her cigarette end, and, with the thought in mind, put the cigar back to her lips for another hit. [color=#F87217]“Hopefully it won’t take an hour or anything. Get the feeling if they let us all be for that long, then the whole place’ll just end up as a good and well bloodbath before they even get in spitting distance of the place-”[/color]

Without warning, she abruptly froze up. She reeled backwards, mouth open in a silent gasp, hands shuddering a little. The cigar slipped between her fingers, landing unceremoniously on the ground. If she had been entirely cognizant, Epsilon would have seen Prince Ali parade his in, all huffy and with his panties firmly in a bunch. However, at the moment, the only thing she was aware of was the sheer [i]rush[/i] of power, of [i]sin[/i] that had flooded into her body. Wrath, Pride, Greed...Three out of the golden seven, shooting her up with enough energy to put the finest crack to shame. She swallowed thickly, hit by wave after wave as the Prince’s appearance sent a little ripple effect throughout the field, but eventually managed to pull herself back together again.

Epsilon’s hands were still trembling, making it a struggle to get a new smoke and relight it, but her voice was steady as she turned to reply to Irvine. [color=#F87217]“Doubt it, kid. Seems like he’s just trying to overcompensate for something vital downstairs, there.”[/color] She licked her lips, took a long drag, then let it go with a soft and emphatic [color=#F87217]“fuck”[/color]. 

[color=#F87217]“He’s a royal jackass, that’s what he is.”[/color]

After a few moments of just smoking and recollecting herself, she came to realize that things were pretty much teetering on the brink of a fight, here. Epsilon glanced over to Irvine, brow raised in the same casual manner as if she had walked into a pub.

[color=#F87217]“What’d I miss, anyway?”[/color]

[@akirashadow]

[hr]

Dawn had predicted that things would get even more exciting.

She wasn’t at all pleased to find out that she had been entirely and utterly right. 

The illusionist was knocked out by one of the more...unique students who had been hanging about, only to be attended to just as quickly by Celestia and a stranger who had suddenly appeared in the midst of all the chaos. A young boy turned into a demon, and before Dawn even had the chance to react, multiple students had already gone to try and bring him back under control. There was screaming, panic, possession (yet again, much to her annoyance) and the entire army up and passing out (it was only through her power that she knew that their hearts still beat). In short and in summary, it was a complete and utter mess, and Dawn found her head thrumming with the amount of frantic activity that had broke out with so little warning. 

She found herself standing in front of Isaiah, almost protectively- even with the fact that her body was nowhere near large enough to actually shield him. One arm half-held out, the other at her side, near her pistol. When it seemed like the worst of the danger had passed, her arm lowered, although the tension that had worked its way into her shoulders refused to pass.

Dawn forced herself to take a deep breath, and release it. She managed a somewhat weak smile at Isaiah’s glee, stepping back to his side once more. [color=#848482]“It’s, ah. Certainly not going to be [i]boring[/i], that’s for sure.”[/color]

She shut her eyes a moment, attempting to send out waves of soothing psychic energy throughout the field. It wasn’t a full on push for everyone to suddenly become calm, but more of...a comforting sort of feeling. Very clearly an outside influence, yes, but akin to that of a warm cafe, or a well-worn armchair. An attempt to disarm some of the worst of the tension. Then Dawn’s eyes opened again, and she slumped a little, idly adjusting her hat with one hand.

[color=#848482]“Well. I was hoping to refine my shadow magics, myself. I’ve picked up a few tricks through the years, but, ah. You can never learn too much.”[/color] Dawn smiled again, a bit less tired this time. [color=#848482]“My psychic abilities could use a bit of a touch-up as well, but, um. Not as much. thankfully. That’s inherent for my own bloodline.”[/color] The Memolis had spent centuries refining it. Marrying into families with psychic ability, or even strong [i]potential[/i]. The results for the, most part, was an entire brood of psychically inclined mages- something they believed to be their greatest asset.

And a rather hefty amount of pride in the “family lines”. Unfortunately.

[color=#848482]“You’ve ah, been doing an excellent job at keeping your form stable, all things considered. From what I’ve heard, it isn’t exactly the easiest thing to do.”[/color] Dawn gave a bit of a nod. [color=#848482]“I’m, ah, sure you’ll be a master of it in no time at all.”[/color]

[@Prosaic][@The One][@PharaohAtem]