Kora was strong, and benefited from years of combat instruction under her family. What she didn't perhaps gain was the advantage of forward planning, or she might have realised that putting herself off balance in such a way was going to inevitably lead to her opponent taking advantage of it. This became clear when her eyes were assaulted by the sting of fresh orange juice splashing into the heir's face. 
She let out a burst if nordic curse words, swiping across her eyes and flinging numerous pots of fruit yogurt in all direction as she rushed to clear her vision, but did not succeed before the aquamancer caught her off-balance and caused her to stumble against some scattered chairs. 

The pyromancer stood, hair and face nor dripping with citrus, and a feral glare on her features.
[color=f26522]" I could just throw you if you prefer." [/color]she growled, flexing her hands and planting her feet, like a bull facing a matador. 
[color=f26522]"Or you could save that water for yourself!"[/color]

As she reached for a bit of breakfast-based weaponry, the air around her hands started warping with heat, the veins beneath her skin starting to emit reddish light through the white skin. Her eyes were set completely on Larke, less he make a move for it. 

Unfortunately at that point another student stepped in between.
[color=f26522]"Get out of the way. This is between me and the Sterling."
[/color]

She was quite prepared to push the girl out of the way...especially considering the fact that the pyromancer towered over the girl and six and a half feet tall. She never got the chance however, as her view was suddenly obscured by a vastly increasing net of vines. 

Kora's shoulders few and the red lines on her forearms began to fade as her gaze turned to the source of this, a teacher. 
She didn't mind defying a student to get what she wanted...but staff were a problem. She did need to impress them. 

[color=f26522]"Yes Professor.."[/color] she muttered, addressing Spire, though glaring at Larke Sterling through the retracting plantlife, as if the entire thing had been his fault. 

And well, if they didn't want to be jumped during breakfast they shouldn't have put the trade embargo on her family.

[hr]

Helena had been listening to Esperanza discussing blood magic with some interest, she wasn't especially au fait with it so it was good to try and pick it up, when the scream and the crash made the girl flinch in alarm.  

Two of the students were fighting against the breakfast table. Did that happen often?

Her new acquaintance didn't seem especially alarmed by that development. If anything the opposite appeared to be true, and she was attempting to get a good look whilst Helena herself shrunk into her seat, wary of other potential flying bowls. Maybe practising a magical skill that called for slicing yourself with a knife on a regular basis gave you a less intense feeling of self preservation. 

[color=f6989d]"I kind of..maybe hope there won't be. A fight everyday I mean.[/color]" she replied. 

[hr]

Initially, when she'd received the letter, she'd made a point of ignoring it. She'd leave being at the beck and call of the council to people who were still interested in that tedious runaround that was mage politics. The envelope remained stuffed into a seldom-used pocket of her backpack for several weeks until the thought of it returned and her mind started to change. 

Maybe they were hoping she wouldn't show up. 

Maybe if she did turn up it would piss people off. 

And it did beat her current plans of couch-hopping after her recent falling-out. 

So that was how the rather scruffy-looking young woman, in a denim jacket, shorts, and a faded T-shirt, approached Marchand Academy.

Dinah Jael Fox. Second-born of Matthew and Morgana Fox. She strolled along the side of the driveway, half-watching some of the cars that pulled away. A few of them costing more than the last house she lived in. This was....clearly not her kind of scene. 


She was late. Entrance hall was already clear of new students. 
Did she care too much? Not especially.  
She even took a degree of amusement watching the expression of the receptionist falter and the smile became more strained as the name went down on the sign in sheet. 

F-O-X. 

Dinah offered a lopsided smirk in response. 
Yeah, you weren't getting away that easily Marchand. 

With the paperwork out of the way she set off upstairs.  Her shoes, a pair of battered-looking hiking boots held together with some silver duct tape, left some grubby scuffs on the floor. This place was pretty fancy. Council was clearly doing pretty alright for herself. 

She didn't hurry too much to get up to the common room. 
It appeared that the resident Norrevinter and Sterling were fighting,  but that was pretty much on the level of water being wet and the pope being catholic. 

Pretty much everyone looked about five social classes better off than her, but again, not really a surprise.

  She could see Toby Schippers, the cousin, not too far away, but neglected to approach....for various reasons.  Plenty of the usual suspects, usual faces, usual bullshit. 

On the bright side, free food and somewhere to sleep that wasn't someone's couch, so she was pretty sure who was winning.  With a general disregard for the mess, Dinah hopped on over to the food table, where she started stuffing several handfuls of dry cereal into her mouth like some kind of socially irresponsible hamster.