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What the fuck. Max had expected unpleasantness, maybe akin to a cat being rubbed the wrong way, not having its fur ripped out and set on fire. And, like touching a fire, he'd recoiled away on instinct and withdrew his presence from the shrapnel without thought rather than doing something useful with his magic like stopping the explosion. If Artiae hadn't been there, he'd probably be dead. Wonderful start. There was sweat pooling on the back of his neck too; hopefully that came from the sudden burst of heat and not fear, he didn't need Poodle over there thinking he was soft.

In the short time it took for Max to catch his breath the surprise and panic gave way to annoyance. That collared idiot was going to get them both skewered; all he had to do was cooperate - surely that tool was capable of that. Asstongue or whatever was a senior, so he had to have taken this class already, which meant he already knew how to do this. Was he being intentionally difficult? Got his kicks making underclassmen look like idiots because he had no power in his home life with Count BDSM? He was tempted to snap at him, but as he opened his mouth, Max realized he didn't have much ground to stand on. The guy had volunteered for this; not even Max was willing to waste hours of his day for a whole semester just out of petty spite, so this coward certainly didn't have it in him. Weak men like that could be angry conniving little shits, but he doubted to that extreme.

So that meant Max was at fault. Great.

[color=8585ad]"Is that gonna make a difference?"[/color] Max questioned the professor as his classmate flicked his queer little wand around. Maybe he'd been focusing too hard on holding everything in place and his magic subconsciously rejected any outside movement to the contrary. So, it would stand to reason that if he was the pusher in this case, Ashton would be responsible for compensating for him, rather than the other way around. Logically, anyway; nothing in magic made any fucking sense at first.

Adequately prepared for another near-death experience, Max extended both hands to prime the levitating fragments with his magic before he brought both hands together, curling his fingers inward to slide the pieces gently and steadily into place. His movements were notably hesitant and incremental now, probing each movement for resistance or more heat before proceeding. Yep, he definitely looked like a coward now. So annoying - why was the second person necessary? It wasn't like he knew any other metal mages, nor did he feel like mixing his magic with any other mages on principle even if he did know one. There was probably some asinine lesson about teamwork in here somewhere. Though, the last academy-approved lesson on teamwork he received ended with mental magic conspiracies and Eris losing his fucking marbles, so Max didn't exactly have his hopes up.

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