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The nightmare had come to pass, heralded with a thumping at the door and the snide tones of someone maintaining the thinnest veneer of ignorance to the two crammed inside the closet. While proximity with the Club’s greatest enemy had already had her heart racing, it felt visceral enough that she was growing concerned the shelving units would start to vibrate their contents clear off their ledges. 

Her eyes were narrowed under the threat of the door, barely drawing from the near certainty of discovery to note Regina adding her contact to her phone. A full name too, though was there really any harm in baring more light upon herself when she was ready to bury the hatchet over the Misoka matter? While her paranoia was entirely validated and she would be leaving her laptop in a tinfoil lined bag when not in use going forward, it also wasn’t healthy to have anyone come across her conspiracy board, the eight ball, etc. 

Fortunately Regina was just as predisposed to not wanting such an intrusion, and unlike Roche her first thought wasn’t transforming and waltzing out invisible to the strangers eyes. Though given her luck it would have started a ghost story. No, Regina was as brazen without magical attire as she was in the guise of Ashbringer, and quite literally bowled their interloper over and berated her with a blistering fusilade of verbal barbs. It was an inspired offensive, and she found herself nearly as stunned as the stranger on the ground, but her wits had not entirely abandoned her. 

Just enough she didn’t register the mark left on her pink-dusted cheeks as she stepped over Ember in passing. [color=orange]”If you’re going to lie about a club, don’t do it while classes are still in session. Try that again with me and we’ll be having words….whoever you are.”[/color]

The Track Captain darted out of the room, eager to escape towards the normality of classes and muster herself after being so sorely tried and found wanting, a moral failure to go alongside all the others heaped upon the Rule Keeper in recent months. But for all that she was agonizing over how poorly she was handling matters, an incessant voice kept reminding her how long it had been since anyone had taken an interest in her. Had wanted to work [i]with[/i] her instead of asking for her help.

And done so without the unsubtle threats of a mortician looming over their every disagreement.