[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/01989c3a-cdd4-7239-bbf7-969d978789bc.webp[/img][/center] [hr][center][color=298e25]Location[/color]: The Feasting Hall, Strange Academy [color=298e25]Grimoire[/color]: [color=298e25]Skills[/color]: [url=https://i.pinimg.com/736x/d6/67/d6/d667d6aff85379764e1832ae3b61dde8.jpg]Current Outfit[/url] [/center] [hr][hr] Rohan zeroed in about the chatter surrounding a severed head. As long as it wasn't the head of anyone he knew, he didn't have much to worry about. If it was Connie's severed head, he would've been missing by now. Someone like Finely or the MacLeods, on the other hand, would've meant something strange happened. Clearly not much to fear, so he tilted his head to Annika, who had just appeared. She seemed nice, so he just gestured to a chair. He was perfectly content to socialize, as long as he didn't have to get within arms reach of that many [i]new[/i] people right now. The instinctual creature in Rohan told him someone here was liable to poison something, either intentionally or otherwise. An emotional reaction to someone getting touchy-feely, Jake deciding to jump up and cast something [i]wild[/i] on a whim, or maybe Finley would cause a bit of mischief. Inexperience and magic went together like flesh and maggots. [I]Tragically.[/i] [color=298e25]"Don't let me stop you-"[/color] Oh, there's Franklin. [color=298e25]"Either of you. Hey, Frank. Plenty of room."[/color] Rohan picked up a fork. [color=298e25]”I’m willing to let you take a look later, I need to dig some notes up anyway. Tomorrow’s gonna be busy, we’ll probably be in that room or deeper for hours, or longer if Marino’s feeling unhinged.”[/color] More than she’d seemed already, that is. Not that Rohan was going to say that part out loud, of course. [color=298e25]”I don’t have any of it right now, but there’s this stuff I can make that I call Flamepitch. It’s like Greek Fire, or holy water… It’s made of blood and tree sap- The normal kind,”[/color] He added. [color=298e25]”Burns like napalm, but it’s got to be something Infernal. Demons, and whatnot. Next time I make some, I’ll let you study it. Might help, since there’s a small bit of alchemy to it.”[/color] He stuck his fork into his wellington and took a bite. Then he stopped, it tasted strange. It didn't seem like it came from a cow, it wasn't human... Could've been some sort of bird. Maybe something more mythical. The curiosity showed on his face for a brief moment, before he took another bite. [color=298e25]"Hmm..."[/color] It wasn't bad, though. He had no notes. The risotto went well with it, in his not-so-professional opinion.