I really do have to apologize - I really did plan to get this up earlier, but the Ramones plus cola, plus me finally finding my Christmas spirit (it was in a present that I'm rather curious of, and can't open until the 25th.. I think it's that 'customized' loo roll, and that really does show what I expect of my gifts :L :L) equals getting around to writing at about 1am. :P

Aldarn flinched, when Elyon had thrown the bluish jewel to slide along the floor, but she only scowled bitterly as her eyes stung against her will. She could feel his eyes on her, though Aldarn only itched to leave and Elyon felt her chest rising and falling rebelliously as her own brother got the better of her. He was always so..eloquent. Doused in his own dignity, and it had taken her all of eight seconds - after having had again decided that he was no longer in control - for Elyon to realize that the bars only seemed to form a private joke that she wasn't in on. And she knew that it was her own fault. Elyon eyed the limply pathetic, ugly jewel as it continued to roll; only very slightly, with the last of the momentum causing it to sway less than an millimetre back and forth until it finally gave up and the tiny sound that it's movement made was left in silence, before Elyon's entire body tensed and she made a noise of frustration, her eyes scrunched closed so that she could pretend Aldarn wasn't watching her make a fool out of herself. "I HATE HIM!"

"I... Yeah." He drew his eyes away after one look, but she didn't miss the slightest grimace, because Drake had slipped away and Elyon had a feeling that Caleb had told the boy to keep eyes on her at all times, and Elyon pursed her lips in a pout; striding to and picking up the jewel. Because the woman had given it to her, and it was her mothers. And that was why she was wearing it, or so she might like the boy to think because she was obviously far too regal to be wearing it in hopes of irking anyone else. Not that Phobos would ever react, even to the fact that Elyon had taken to acclaiming herself rights to his- their mother's room.. And yet.. Something about a moan reverberating around a ballroom prevented her from actually saying it. Even when she'd apprized him, she had managed to fear him in an equal quietness. Though it would seem that he'd known everything.

"..Just.. Go." Elyon lifelessly waved the boy away, but knew he hadn't moved as she pulled a cool golden chain around her neck, wondering if she might asphyxiate herself if she pulled hard enough. Not that he'd care. And God only knew how much of a witch Caleb had told everyone she was.. She thought about him often; pulling her up next to the throne, and simply looking glad that she was alright. And then Miranda had screamed when they were taking her away and he had disappeared once Elyon had ruled away his attempt to side with her. And now he was awake, back from whatever mourning he had been doing. She had thought that he was sulking, but he had lost his love that day. Aldarn had looked up when a snort of humour was released despite herself; dryly, because it had turned out that Will was every much the minx Elyon'd thought she was. And yet, she knew all about Caleb now, so perhaps she had really ought to feel sorry for the redhead.

Elyon had thought that Phobos might've been thankful; no-one was sure if the murmurers were alive, and no-one really thought that anyone except maybe Caleb could make the decision. Elyon wasn't sure if she believed it. But then one of the first thing Prince Phobos had inquired of was his murmur boy. And Elyon knew that Caleb would not be allowed near Phobos. She didn't want to lock him up.

"You heard me, Aldarn. JUST GO!"

...

Taranee had never been one for the food Sheffield Institute supplied on a daily basis, but it had been only recently - perhaps a month or so - that she'd in fact discovered that it did nothing to help, to have Matt Olsen's mouth pressing readily against Will Vandom's neck. "Okay, Will. That's disgusting."

Her own lips pressed firmly together at that; a tight line that wavered with mirth, though Will never seemed to have time for seeing the humour in things anymore, and Taranee's most thoughtful contemplation was that she looked like Cornelia as brown eyes only flitted loathsomely to Irma, though Taranee was always sure that there was still a slither of Will in that the redhead did, once the brunette's gaze was elsewhere, squirm from Matt's grip with the same slightly tense discomfort that she'd had when he'd originally drawn his hand lazily around her waist. Under the table, where no one could see, but Taranee had been sitting and watching Will pretend she liked him back for weeks. And no one wanted to say anything.

It was the only time that Will didn't seem quite so irritated by their presence; they were simply a meagre inconvenience, and besides, Will had stopped tensing around them quite so much since Joel had taken as well to Irma. And Cornelia.. Well, Cornelia only frowned, silently watching as Will wrapped her own arm behind herself; fully extracting from the boy's arm as she would - as if by habit - knit her fingers through his own and pull their hands between them. It might've been sad, at one time, to watch Will's unsurety and yet indignant attitude to the world around her now, and she was sure that the girl was due for another detention around this time - something about spitting in a teacher's face - Will was due expulsion, surely, though Taranee knew for a fact that Tom Lair had been spotted, and she wondered if he might be calling in Will's favour. Everyone was sure Will had stepped out in front of that bus hoping to get hit, but Taranee knew Will Vandom too well not to have seen the shock behind her indifference, and whatever the excuse the redhead had given had been a lie. Taranee wondered if Will's mind had been on Caleb. It had only been a week from seeing him then, and sometimes Taranee wondered how Will had known he wasn't coming back. She'd easily been with Matt before the seventh day, after all. Either way, there was something, and Will seemed to be stuck behind it. Perhaps an attitude problem, so recently developed.

Perhaps an inability to give Hay Lin more than a repugnant stare of disdain as the spirited girl clumsily jittered into her seat across from the girl; a high-pitched greeting followed instantly by some twitter of Yan Lin to Will, "..and she really says she wants to, um, see you, you know.. She hasn't seen you since, well, since Cale- in fact, I don't even think she saw you then, and I... We got rid of the high-cot."

The last sentence had been directed at everyone but, and Taranee knew that nerves had over-ruled any necessity that Will see Yan Lin, because Will didn't glare, or glower, or even look gloatingly at Hay Lin, and Taranee herself couldn't deny having had faltered under the stare. It might be something to do with the jaundice; the yellowish tint in Will's skin. Or perhaps the dark circles under disconcerned eyes, or maybe the constant tapping. Taranee, and thus Hay Lin couldn't see the hand, but everyone had started noticing the way her fingers twitched slightly when she got like this. But Taranee knew better, that this was simply the fact that sometimes it didn't even look like Will was listening. Sometimes it was like she was listening to something else. And sometimes Will got barely a demerit, even if she'd nearly broken Uriah Dunn's nose with that swing. It was funny, too. Because she'd been staring at Matt before she'd done it.

It was like Will was getting directions (who was where, where was what).. From someone else. "Look, Hay Lin, tell your Grandma she can-"