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Flower Boy was following him. Great. At least he hadn't opened his mouth and knew to keep a respectable distance between them. Maybe Max would just pretend he wasn't there; it'd work out better for everyone involved. There were too many people around, and given that a couple neckbiters thought their last [i]tame[/i] interaction warranted intervention, he couldn't imagine the crowd he'd draw by blowing up on the plant mage now. 

[color=598527]"Have a good day! Hopefully I'll see you around more!"[/color]

[color=8585AD]"Good day, my ass. Fuck you."[/color] Max grumbled almost inaudibly under his breath after Salem had walked off. That whole fiasco was his fault, and Max got nothing from that interaction but a bad mood. Useless. 

At least the crowds were starting to thin out. Hopefully they'd be too busy fawning over the Queen to bother him any [i]more[/i] tonight. He hoped there wouldn't be some mandatory assembly to listen to her drone on about the Academy; on the off chance that there were some mind-reading mages wandering about, he couldn't imagine involuntary thoughts of regicide would be particularly welcome. Well, maybe not entirely involuntary. He'd have to occupy his thoughts with something to amuse him while that stupid hag talke-

He was on the ground. There were some loud noises, and then he was on the ground. How did he end up on his knees? He glanced over in the direction he came from. Some lanky idiot was babbling out apologies like a battered wife. Max pointedly ignored any aid offered his way as he got to his feet, glaring coldly all the while. 

[color=8585AD]"Watch it."[/color] He muttered tersely through gritted teeth. He shouldn't engage, it would just keep him here longer. If Max punched this clumsy moron, the vampires would swoop in to play mother hen to these [i]poor, misguided mortals[/i] who can't get along. Pretentious parasites. 

Speaking of the devil, apparently Lanky had friends. Maybe he was a battered wife, some guy dressed up like a deadbeat dad was leading the charge. How do vampires even get fat? They don't eat. Why were those two idiots earlier bothering [i]him[/i] and not these losers? He didn't even bother responding.

If Max had known vamps were going to get involved regardless, he would've just decked the guy that bumped into him in the first place. Maybe he still should. Maybe he could send Lanky running off in the other direction and get those six tagalongs to chase after him and beat him up or whatever. Max had magic, right? He could at least make a show of force, right? Retriever did it easily enough. What was the trick? Willpower? He had plenty of that. The fact that he still hadn't thrown a punch was a testament to that. Emotion? Anger surely counts. He glared at Lanky for lack of a better target, willing something, [i]anything[/i] horrible to befall him for locking Max in this situation. A fireball, a lightning bolt, a mildly uncomfortable breeze; he wasn't picky. He flexed his fingers at his side until they were trembling. Nothing. Some school this was. He should've headed to the library instead of trying to get invested in arena fights. Surely some dog-earred copy of [i]Spellcraft For Dummies[/i] would've served him better than the absolute waste of time that was orientation day. 

Max stuffed his hands in his pocket with a grunt as he prepared to walk off, pausing only as he felt a tingle shoot up his arm as his fingers brushed past the metal of his dorm key. Did he do it? What kind of affinity was that? Pocket lint? Was that just how magic always started out? Was it a freak accident? Did that idiot bumping into him result in some crippling nerve damage that he was just now starting to feel the effects of? He pulled his hand in and out of his pocket again, seemingly oblivious to the other people around him. No tingle. Nothing. Useless.

[hr][@Achronum][sub][@TrainerBlue192](ish?)[/sub]