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[color=f14a83]Location:[/color] Primary Artificer Laboratory -> Professor Varn Croan’s Office
[color=f14a83]Grimoire:[/color] 
[color=f14a83]Skills:[/color] 
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Finley found themselves walking with Annika. They had a meeting with their advisor Croan, though they much more wished they could go to the dorm and spend time with Dysphoria. It was irritating to be told where to go and when, but they had signed up for that when agreeing to attend the school. And the school had its benefits. Such lovely benefits. 

[color=f14a83]”I do not bite. Unless you ask,”[/color] Finley told Annika as she stood as far apart from them as was physically possible in the hallway. 

Upon entering Croan’s office Finley sat quickly on one of the chairs, not quite flopping, but that was only because Finley had had an impressive training of looking like they were unbothered by anything.

[color=f14a83]”Hello Croan. Yes, we are in the same coven. I did a binding spell for our little group. We shall find our way back. Despite Annika’s blood being slightly resistant to such machinations. Not as resistant as Rohan’s, which I’m surprised even worked.”[/color]  

Rohan... the strange cursed creature. Little love was lost between them. Rohan was nervous about Finley, any who knew the fae were. But none of their pleasant demeanor had worn him down over the years that they knew him. Constance had not tried to force the matter. She did not care how people interacted with each other as long as it was civil enough and the blood did not get on her. Finley remembered her face the moment she learned how their powers worked. No wonder she never joined them in any of the rooms at Haven. 

Finley pulled a loaf of bread out of their bag and started eating it. The bread was not sliced, they did not put anything on it. They just ate directly from a nearly full loaf, this did not seem to be a new thing as the loaf had clear bite marks. 

[color=f14a83]”Would you like some, Annika?”[/color] They offered. 


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[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5dNnrjA.png[/img]
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[color=D8BFD8]Location:[/color] Room 12 -> Prof. Ravoux’s Office
[color=D8BFD8]Grimoire:[/color] 
[color=D8BFD8]Skills:[/color] 
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Leaving room 12 had left Connie fuming. She was irritated at Croan. She was terrified. She was angry. There were a lot of feelings she was feeling. As she walked to Prof. Ravoux’s office she counted. She sorted through them. Placing them into discrete mental boxes. Not closing those boxes, but organizing them. It was a lot to sort through and she hadn’t finished by the time she arrived at Prof. Ravoux’s office. 

Entering the cottage she felt some of the boiling emotions peel off of her. She paused, exited, and re-entered the room four times before she finally felt centered enough to follow Prof. Ravoux’s directions. Gently she placed her bag down near the entrance, sat down and made a face of mild disgust at the body of the rabbit. 

[color=D8BFD8]”Do you have a towel or something that I can place on my lap?”[/color] The cold clipped tone that had been in her voice while in room 12 was gone now, replaced with her normal slightly detached tone. Connie couldn’t stand body fluids. Blood or any other, getting on her. She had considered once that maybe she had OCD, but had never really dug into it. As far as she was concerned it did not affect her life enough to be an issue. Except in moments like this. She also wished she had gloves, her hands shook a little at the idea of touching the dead thing. 

Zéphyrine chuckled slightly, nodding as she pointed with her head towards the nest in the corner. “‘Elp yourself,” she offered. There were towels mixed in there with the various blankets. She had been doing this sort of work for far too long to care if a bit of blood or guts got on her - and given her nature as a shifter, it was more common for her to find a bit of dried brain matter on her heel than to not. “You want to talk about w’at’s on your mind, chère? ‘Arkness said t’ese sessions are meant for us to get to know eac’ ot’er as mentee and mentor, but I reckon we know eac’ ot’er plenty by now.”

Connie gathered a towel, finding the least crunchy one, and lay it out on her lap to start preparing the rabbit. [color=D8BFD8]”I have quite a bit on my mind actually. I am working on a Mystery with Croan,”[/color] she said his name with a bit of venom in her tone. Connie took a deep breath and re-centered herself. Focusing for a moment on the task at hand. 

[color=D8BFD8]”I shifted between my swift form and into human form. As I did, I saw something. That has never happened before. I do not have visions. But I saw his past. I saw him with his lord, and lines of people falling at his hands.”[/color] 

Zéphyrine cocked her head to the side, curious. “A vision? Mm… Your magic or ‘is?” she inquired. Her own opinions on Croan were complex, but at the end of the day, he was one of them - he was part of her pack. “Visions can be as murky as a swamp. Many a witc’ has lost more t’an just sleep over t’em. And you know as well as I t’at t’is world ain’t easy for folks like us. Croan’s ‘ad ‘is own ‘ards’ips. Do you t’ink ‘e’s wicked?”

[color=D8BFD8]”Hmm, I can’t say if it was his or mine. It was his history. I don’t know if wicked is a word I would use. But he has little unclear intentions. The fact that he has been obsessed with this statue for so long and that unknown cohorts have lost their mind to it, but he continues to choose to let us go into it blind is frustrating. I am meticulous. I plan, I do not like to leap into things blindly.”[/color] The longer Connie spoke the more irritated her voice became. She stopped herself taking a deep breath, calming herself down again. 

[color=D8BFD8]”I could have touched it and tried to turn the stone to flesh, but I won’t, not until I know more about it.”[/color] She shook her head. [color=D8BFD8]”Unlike Jake, who just... licks things he doesn’t understand.”[/color] 

She nodded sympathetically. There was a reason Zéphyrine did not lead a coven. Risking the lives of young witches, before they had even fully bloomed, it was too much to bear. No, she much preferred keeping them tucked away behind her skirts, practicing simple lessons where the price of failure was nothing she could not fix. 

But that was not the point of the coven system. 

“Do you know w’y we ‘ave you look into these mysteries?” she asked. “You’re old enoug’ now, mon amie, t’at you could ‘ave left t’e nest and struck out on your own, your own witc’. But you decided to stay. W’y? We taug’t you all your spells, your potions and incantations - t’e only t’ing left to teac’ is a lesson most don’t get a second c’ance at. ‘Ow to live - ‘ow to see a problem t’ats killed a t’ousand of your own and walk away to tell the tale. If you ain’t up for t’at, t’eres no s’ame in it. But t’is is w’at it means to live in t’is world as a witch’ - you gotta keep on leapin’ in blind. T’e day you can’t do t’at is t’e day you meet our Lady.”

Connie was quiet for a moment, thinking over what Ravoux said. She contemplated. If thousands of other witches had tried this, what made her better than them? 

[color=D8BFD8]”But if I do leap in blind, it can kill me. Preparing for what the dangers are mean I am less likely to die. The previous cohorts had just as much training, maybe more. Yes, I’ve gone to this school a long time, many that knew me when I first came are long gone, moved on to other things. But I [i]like[/i] learning. The environment here has always helped and fostered my skills.”[/color] And kept her safe from the outside world. 

“I ain’t disagreein’ wit’ you. Your odds are better if you prepare. But t’e coven system ain’t about learnin’ t’e way you want - if you want a test to study for, ‘omework to fill out, t’en you’re in t’e wrong place. I can talk at you till I’m blue in t’e face and it won’t teac’ ya ‘ow to live when t’e w’ole world wants ya dead. Learn to function in c’aos. Or leave, go walk in t’e mortal world and take t’eir exams, take t’eir lessons. T’e pat’ only gets ‘arder from ‘ere. I’m sorry, chère, but it’s t’e trut’.”

Connie chewed on her lip. She had not spent much time outside of the French Quarter since she was a little kid. [color=D8BFD8]”Should I just try to transform this statue? Turn it from stone back into the flesh it once was?”[/color] Connie [i]wanted[/i] to do that. She had resisted the urge. But fear had held her back.