Dr. Ichabod Hate University

At first, "the Crimson Whirlwind" didn't seem to hear what she'd asked, her eyes thoughtful and straight ahead as she navigated the crowd casually working her way to the woods. Then, just before the question could be ignored as speaking too softly, she said, "I attend HSU, yeah."

Unconsciously, she traced the silvery pommel of her rapier, its embedded dark, red gem losing some of time's dust in the process.

"AH, ALE!!", A.D.A.M. understood. "CROM RUSTLES HIS MIGHTY BEARD IN OUR FAVOR, TONIGHT!"

A.D.A.M. grabbed the six pack and pierced the bottom of all the cans with its teeth, bubbling, frosty brew pouring from the new orifices. The metal monstrosity chugged down the ale, all of which ran down its chin and wolf pelt; the hides were not too happy about this. The display was majestic in its vulgarity; any alpha male would have been proud. Letting out a pseudo-satisfied grunt, A.D.A.M. tossed the empty six pack in the frat boys' general direction.

"NOW DANCE FOR ME, MORTALS!", it quipped.

"Yeah," Cecil's simple response as he looped arms with the newly returned Plum to escort her along with him to the drinks. The rest of the group decided to stay behind and talk amongst themselves, and Emir was deemed babysitter to Cecil's wooden stick.

"We're just brothers," a brief pause, then, "Nice accent, sounds real. I thought you were from up north."

Plum was happy for the familiar feel of Cecil at her side despite the unfamiliarity of his robes and mask. She was mostly quiet, keeping her arm in her companion's, and holding drinks as best she could with one hand.

Chad ran until he reached the entrance of the ball room turn woods, though he stayed within the confines of the naked trees. Leaning against one slender trunk he tried to reel in his racing breath and thoughts. The mask covering his face and head seemed suffocating suddenly and he tore it away, throwing it onto the forest's floor. Sweat spiked his hair and rolled down his cheeks; he didn't seem to notice.

That girl, he didn't even know her damn name, why did she have to keep showing up and tormenting him? He hadn't done anything to her! She was as bad as Jane, worse since she had gotten into his head and knew things no one else did.

He punched a tree out of frustration and, finding the feeling rather cathartic, he kept going until his fist went numb. Pulling the glove off his hand proved tricky as he had burst the skin over his knuckles causing blood to seep down his hand. He stared dumbly at the damage, his head still too full of thoughts of that girl to register any pain.

"Brothers...I thought you were an only child...but I see what you could mean by having a brotherhood...", pouring himself a viscous liquid from an unmarked bottle, "and yes...I am from up north but I get around...picking up little bits of language here and there...one of the specialties I am majoring in here on campus actually." Swirling around the drink for a moment then taking a mouthful before looking to Plum.

"I hope the champion of time and effect didn't rough you up to badly..."

"Wicked fierce!" The leader of the frat boys shouted, again slurring his R's into A's. He and his bros began dancing as only drunk white college boys *can* dance. A couple of girls joined in, whooping and declaring their state of intoxication.

She looked up at Damon's question and smiled sweetly. "Nothing I can't handle," she answered with a wink though she remained wrapped around Cecil's arm. Whatever had transpired had shaken her, but she seemed to be coming back to herself. "Are any of your friends students at IHU? More importantly, are they handsome and single?" This question obviously directed at Cecil, though she was looking back at the other robed figures.

The damaged man seperated himself from his aged companion, bending at the waist to whisper something in her ear. Straightening, he went off into the woods, moving silently as he picked a path through the branches and fallen leaves. He was gone several minutes and when he returned it was via the same path he had departed on. He returned to the hag's side, silent as to where he had disappeared to. The smug smile on his lips and blood smeared on his fingertips, however, could possibly tell the story to anyone capable of reading it.

The Crimson Whirlwind had escorted Skye through the crowd when she caught the scene unfolding. When the scarred "demon" returned, stained in a way that stood up the hairs on her neck, the swashbuckler turned to ease Skye into a safe corner out of traffic.

"Do... You mind waiting a minute? I'm... Having... A nice time. I just need to take care of something real quick."

Taking a winding route through the crowd, she lightened a server of two champagne glasses. As she changed from a steady gait to quite the swerving one, the Crimson Whirlwind put one gulp of the stuff down her mouth with all but half of one glass on her face. Wine-o's reeked of less booze.

Careening with her half-a-glass left, she bellowed in "his" voice. "Bill! Bill you ol' bastard! Glad t'see ya!"

Stumbling expertly, she bounced against the scarred "demon" and clung briefly to a shoulder made of steel cable muscles. "Man, didn't I tell ya? Didn't I-" Staring drunkenly up into the masked face, which probably didn't need the scowl its wearer was directing at the moron hanging on his shoulder, the Crimson Whirlwind proclaimed, "You're not Bill! Shit man. Biiiiill!"

She shoved away. Messily enough that she grabbed his other shoulder, the hip of his pants and the stained hand. "Hee. Sorry, sorry. Sor-*burp* Sorry." Once she'd straightened up, she tilted her glass at the bent figure pointing hollow black orbs at her. "Nice hair gramma."

Then she seemed to notice the blood on the napkin that had hit the scarred "demon's" hand. Looking from the napkin to the man in front of her, after a puzzled, drunken moment, she said, "Y'got red on yeh." Giggling madly (and obviously, to herself), she then performed a spin that made it clear she was lucky she didn't fall on her arse and aimed back to the crowds calling. "Biiiiill! Bill you bastard! Where th' hell are ya?!"

Once she was sufficiently far enough away that her heart wasn't hammering in her throat and she felt like searching eyes weren't still on her back, she leaned heavily against a dessert table. After a few deep gulps of air, she put the half-used glass on the table and pocketed the napkin.

Finding Skye still waiting, she wiped her face and approached the mostly there girl and offered her arm.

"Sorry about that," she said chummily. "Mind walking with me in the woods away from the crowd? Some jerk spilled booze all over me and I want to air out a bit."