[hr][center][h1][color=0072bc]Joryldin Nailo[/color][/h1][/center][hr]

When dusk came, Joryldin was up early once more. Sleep didn't offer him much rest, again; but rather than cryptic nightmares of the past, he was plagued with anxiety about the present and future. It seemed every passing moment, things became more and more complex. The academy was like a political minefield, and he cursed himself for not taking more than two steps before he landed on the biggest one... But he shook it out of his mind for now. They were a secret, and he didn't plan on telling it, so why bother worrying? The one thing Joryldin was here for was to take the opportunity for a good education. Nothing more, nothing less. 

"Keep your head down, and make mother proud." was the motto he repeated in his head as he got dressed and ready. The ensemble she sent him had a charm that cleaned them with the push of a button. The outfit was completely pristine already; the dead don't sweat, after all. In spite of that, he pushed the button just to see what happened, and a swirl of minor arcane energy left his uniform with the scent of cinnamon. Neat. He finished his sunset routine without an issue, getting clean and dressed quickly. Despite how he hated it, he did the responsible thing and downed a small glass of blood before saying a quick goodbye to the still waking Dakota. 

The fledgling decided to get some exercise in on his first day. Though he wasn't sure his body even needed to stretch, he was comfortable doing it. It took him a moment to try and think of what speed would be socially acceptable... but he eventually began jogging down the road at a comfortable 8 mph. There was a feeling of freedom to effortlessly moving so fast, and it made his trip to class way more enjoyable than he expected it to be. Starting off the evening right proved to be necessary, because for the rest of the night he would be seeing red.

[i]The second Professor Marcella opened her mouth, he already wanted to punch her.[/i]
-Being a hard-ass about punctuality was understandable. It's a dick move to not show up when you're supposed to and keep others waiting. Locking the doors, though? What the hell? News flash: Life happens, lady! 
-Handwritten. His kryptonite. It would be pretty embarrassing for an embraced to fail Mortal Biology, but how would it be his fault if she demanded everything be handwritten??? He hadn't learned to write until he was twelve!
-The future is now, old hag. Deal with it.

By the time she had gotten to the first lesson, Joryldin's eyes were already red. With a hand on his chin he intended to ignore her droning, ESPECIALLY when she started talking down to humans as if they were dumb disobedient puppies. That alone would have been enough for him to stick a silver pin on her seat if she were a tutor at home, but his spite and disinterest were quickly replaced with sheer disgust when she began her lecture.

Feeding. Why did it have to be feeding? He didn't even have a functioning stomach yet somehow just thinking about it made his insides shrivel even more... Feeding efficiency, training, conditioning, control, [b]foreplay!?[/b] It was appalling. He expected the worst from a class like this, but what he got was a new low. Still, most of this information was totally new to him. He had no clue that he needed to be so careful were he to bite someone. While all the rest was less than garbage in terms of useful information, he took extensive notes on how to access blood safely. By the end, he had [i]no[/i] questions... At least, none that wouldn't get him de-fanged...