…Gods, she’s getting way too invested in this little narrative. She nearly forgot that this is one of the people that embarked on this mission alongside her. It makes her momentarily reconsider her approach…does she speak to him as a fellow “ally” from the church, or an “ally” in this ongoing battle?

“You’re an Argent, right?” Sonya steps forward while deciding her approach. “Haven’t seen one in a good while. Or at least one that doesn’t question all my damn choices without even knowing me. You get me?”

She holds a friendly demeanor in her speech, though her eyes are thin with mischievous wrapping. Meant to portray the message, Just play along.

"Yes ma'am, that I am." As far as he's been led to believe, at any rate. Catlike smile surfaces. Catlike cant of the head follows. "Ah, but is it not human nature to question? One cannot hope to reach enlightenment without indulging in one's curiosity from time to time."

Smile widens.

"That said, one supposes there is a difference between posing questions and then questioning you."

Arms uncross and slide into pockets. "Sonya, was it? I realize now I forgot to introduce myself earlier. I am Azama - but a humble monk... when not in the employ of the church as a professor in matters of theory in faith magicks. Or... when not masquerading as a member of some odd strike force for Argent, either, ohoho~"

It's a stiff bow he offers her, but a bow nevertheless, and as he rises, right hand escapes pocket to proffer a handshake - a seal of acquaintanceship.

"You seem to have a level head about you."

Grin remains.

She stops herself from popping the middle bun with mere moments to spare. The storm must have swept away her logic alongside beauty, otherwise there was no way she’d end up with this trio of pastries in hand. Even if her stomach is speaking louder than her mind, there are so many other options of cuisine to dine on.

Although…the sweets may be far from her tastes, but they do look cute in presentation. It would be a waste to simply dump them, and placing them back would only meet her with even more awkward looks tonight. The best option would be to give them to someone as a gift, but who could possibly…?

The answer miraculously comes into sight in the form of a grim raven. With no hesitation, Sonya pivots to face the black-dressed lady eye-to-eye and holds out the plate of sweet buns.

“Here. Take one, two, or three of them, Three preferably,” she immediately offers, pushing the plate subtly closer and closer to the lady. Most other women liked the sweetness of these things, even if the taste was long-lost to Sonya herself. She couldn’t picture anyone better to settle the buns with.

“Oh, also,” she quickly adds on, pulling off a turtle charm from her bracelet and setting it aside on the plate. “Not for eating. Just thought it’d look good on you, dear.”

Ishtar has had enough of the ballroom. She looms near the corner, obsurcing sight and hoping the night draws near. There's too much ups and downs, too much uncertainty in the whisper of this eve. She cannot hold it in any longer. Her body grumbles with the frustration of one ready to give in. The ocean was certaintly pleasant to look at yes....but now she'd like a break. Performing the spectacle of Ishtar was not an easy task.

And so she overshadows the ball, a tufted bird with no vendetta to exact. Ishtar stands with increasing anxiety, hands and fingers unable to contain the underlying tension. But no. She was a princess. 

The arrival of a stranger is always swatted away. Ishtar is ready to seethe and scratch, but the woman does not appear suggest much menace.

A sweet bun?

The item is plopped into the princess' hands. Just like that, the thunder mage had no idea she was hungry. She stares at the item, its soft texture and fullness, and wonders if its okay to start eating. Then again, why did this woman gift her food?

"For me?" Ishtar asks. "Why?" A glance is all Ishtar needs to know that the woman is not dressed to the ball's standards. It would only anger her more if this woman was taking pity on her for some reason or other.

But she doesn't have much reason to refuse at this point. Ishtar settles for taking a piece of the sweet bread and tasting it. It has a pleasant subtlety she can enjoy. Just when she thinks the woman is done, she offers her charm.

"Well, thank you," the thunder mage responds. "You must have good taste. I suppose I should offer you my charm as well." Retrieving her allotted charm, she hands it to the woman.

The last time she spoke to the raven-haired lady was within the safety of Argent headquarters. It doesn’t take a genius to realize something big was happening before Sonya abandoned the pointless narrative. However…was the narrative as pointless to the rest of them? Nel swore to prioritize the safety of the others over the Argent/Haven debacle.

And while the mage held some doubts of how much Nel meant it, that is all washed away when Sonya finds her. Not with a classroom or anywhere nearby. Instead, by a secluded part of the monastery, underneath the shade of some trees.

She doesn’t even need to approach that close to see some lingering scars and pains.

“Taking a break from teaching? I don’t blame you,” Sonya tries jumping in with light-hearted banter. Though just as her tone is unsteady, so is her step into the shadow. “Looks like I’ve missed a lot while I was away.

“...Mind filling me in on some of the blanks? I don’t like writing my own stories when there’s so many.”

In a rare lowering of guard, Nel’s eyes remain closed as Sonya approaches. The light rise and fall of her chest suggests that perhaps she had just drifted off into a comfortable slumber, but the ring of her companion’s voice causes the professor to scrunch her face up for the briefest of moments before cracking a singular eye open to blearily gaze up at her. It felt like a lifetime since she had seen the other, and Nel stifles a yawn before pushing herself into a higher sitting position, sigh managing to escape despite her best efforts.

Where had she gone during all of the fighting? Sonya doesn’t seem worse for wear like some of them did, so Nel can only assume that it means she was spared from a good chunk of the violence. Considering the depth of that world they had been plunged into, though…. She doubts it was that easy.

“Sonya.” Voice low and scratchy, a direct result of her sleep, she shuffles to the side just a bit to allow her a place to sit should she so choose. “You certainly did. It has been a while, has it not?”

Now that she thinks about it… the thought of Sonya and Harken both had not crossed her mind for even a second during the last confrontation. Almost as if they didn’t exist at all, and it causes Nel to frown ever so slightly.

“I do not recall your presence at the final battle. I am sure you had your reasons.” At least, she hopes that she did. “There is much to say, yet I do not hold the full tale. I… died in that world, and I am lucky to have my life in this one.” The bandages across her person and the sling on her arm is evidence enough of that.

Hearing about it is one thing. Acting upon it is another, hence why Sonya takes the time out of her dark days to bask in the academy’s light for a moment. Only a moment so that she can perform her business and return home shortly after.

Catching sight of the long, red hair with flashy (yet not too flashy) stars mixed inside is the simple part. The part that is not simple is what comes next. Which explains why the first thing Sonya does upon catching Yunaka’s attention is…thrusting her hands out.

“Here,” the purple lady dares to utter, forcing herself to first look down at what is within her hands. She holds a small ball of glass that holds small yet recognizable stars twinkling inside. They float about the ball as if touched by magic, though a closer look would make the presence of water atop apparent.

Yes, it is childish as a gift. But what Sonya speaks of next comes from the…heart.

“It reminded me of you. A bit,” she rather clumsily tries to spin the sudden offer. If she tries believing in her own squirming, then she finds the strength to look into the fellow woman’s eyes. “Do whatever you want with it. Anything to make your day any better.

“Oh, unless you just want to throw it out. No need to tell, promise.”

She sees Sonya around a lot less than she expected to. After they returned from their job, the woman seemed to all but disappear from Yunaka’s radar. She doesn’t see her teaching any classes, she doesn’t see her in any of the offices, and she has absolutely no idea which house the woman even teaches for. It’s enough to make an overly suspicious girl’s skin start to crawl, but she’s got no proof and no specific accusations to throw around, so she keeps those thoughts to herself and goes on about her life.

When Sonya abruptly reappears one day, it’s jarring. Yunaka jumps at the sight of her and opens her mouth to say something, but she’s cut off as the woman abruptly shoves something towards her. It’s…a snow globe?

She stares at it curiously, head tilted to the side. It sure does look like a snow globe, with stars dancing around innocently inside the water. It doesn’t look like any weapon she knows of and if it’s a magic thing…well, she’ll already be done for before she can figure that out anyway.

Sonya orders her to take it, so she does. Silently, she balances the orb between her two hands, watching as the slight motion of the transfer jostles the stars inside and sends them dancing around. She watches them quietly for a moment before looking up at Sonya. “Thanks! I didn’t expect you to gift me anything, if I’m being honest.” And she so rarely is. She means it this time though. It isn’t hard to guess why it reminded Sonya of her, but she’s more impressed by the fact she actually went out of her way to give it to her.

Loaded Questions || Accepting!

Panic surges through Rinea at the thought of even remotely being in control. She looks to her Professor, wondering whatever could have given her the impression that she would ever enjoy being in control. That was part of what made things work so well with Lord Berkut, he took charge and she just had to follow along. It was a peaceful existence, until he started spiraling and she could no longer comfort him.

"I loathe being in control. I could find myself quite happy following along with someone else."

“Hey kid,” Sonya hollers, pausing to give the other time to adjust herself. “Rinea, right?” she adds on, not meaning to startle the girl as she draws closer.

“Was just thinking - you’re pretty attentive for a face that just dropped down here. A pretty face, too. They don’t give me the funds to host welcome parties, nor would I throw one, but…”

Footsteps pause simultaneously with her voice. Now only a few paces away from the newcomer, the air around them suddenly feels…restless. Sonya’s eyes morph into a squint at Rinea, more to hide troubled eyes than to intimidate.

Where has she felt this pressured atmosphere before? Why is it nostalgic?

She forces her eyes to widen back to normal size, picking at her collar while attempting to hide suspicion with a returning smile.

“I merely wanted to welcome you to this mess of a house. In case no one else found the time to yet.”

Rinea remembers, in the before times, her parents had once tried to have her tutored in magic, but she had shown absolutely no talent and it was deemed an absolute waste of money. Yet in the here and now, magic came easy to her, a reminder of what she had been through. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, especially as she let out a horrified scream the first time she used her magic, the memories of that day flooding her, the flames, the screaming that sounded so much like her own.

From that day on she had merely kept her head down, content to learn the theories behind it as if that would make it safer to her, as if it would make the horrible sensation that sometimes licked at her like flames go away.

Yet, it seemed she had been noticed by her Professor. Prepared to apologize and share her notes to show she had been more than just coasting by in class. She almost dares not to look up at the Professor as she approaches but answers. "Yes, I am Rinea, Professor."

She waits for the scolding the never comes, that she's not participating enough, but she's scared, so scared of this magic she never thought possible for her to use. Instead, she's praised for her attentiveness and her beauty. The only person who had ever praised her before was Lord Berkut, but perhaps this place would be a positive change in her life?

She gives a small, shy smile. Her cheeks turn a slight shade of pink from the praise. The welcome also warms her heart.

"Thank you Professor. Not many had besides a familiar face from home, but I welcome it all the same."

But she notices how her normally confident professor squints at her and picks at her collar. Those are behaviors more akin to her own, not befitting the beautiful, confident professor she's used to seeing in lessons.