Boathouse

This was a tragedy. Leo's only (american) football had been dropped into the lake and his wand was back in his dormitory. He liked the ball enough to go in and swim for it... if the water wasn't freezing or creepy-looking. Instead, he looked around for a proper paddle so he could boat to it. This wouldn't have ever happened if he hadn't played catch with that other guy in the quad. Turns out, they thought Leo was Godfrey, so Leo awkwardly left with as much politeness as he could muster up. But then he ended up at the boathouse, tossing the football in the air. Missing one catch, and then the ball was in the water, floating farther and father way.

Rasmus was initially only moving through the area but then he saw someone in there and decided to go investigate. He didn't see the ball, just Leo's back, and he scratched the back of his head. "Uh...can you see the octopus or something? Octupus? Shit, I mean the squid sorry," he said with a frown. Rasmus had been knocked around a lot growing up. "Sorry-don't mean to intrude." Rasmus should just mind his own business.

She's been spending a lot of time at the boathouse lately, finding it incredibly peaceful as long as she had a nice coat. Sitting near the edge, she enjoys catching quick glimpses of small creatures in the water and debating whether or not it was just reflective light or something actually living below, but she was trying to actually focus on something this time. She is writing a letter to her grandmother in hopes that maybe she'll respond to more old-fashioned means of communicating if not her texts and has gone on to write it about four times now, working on her fifth. Honestly, she's been down here for a few hours now, missing both lunch and her History of Magic class, but she doesn't mind. It's not like she was going hungry or missing out on anything.

When he emerges from the dungeons after that spectacular dueling practice with Niks, his head is a mess. He's so fucking stupid it's unreal. Trying to kiss her? Stressing her out like that? Hurting her? It's barely been a few weeks since he dropped the Parade bombshell and freaked her out about that and now he's just- he needs air. The boathouse has always been somewhere he likes to go to be alone in the quiet; it's cool out, the afternoon breeze picking up and rocking the boats gently on the water, and the stillness of it all is exactly what he needs. Letting out a loud sigh, he leans against one of the stone walls, letting his head fall back against it and closing his eyes, not even noticing Jocelyn's presence. Ugh. What a mess.

She's in the process of finishing that fifth letter when she hears the sound of quiet footsteps and then the person they belong to lets out a much louder sigh. Jocelyn brings the letter and pen to her chest, looking up for a moment and cursing to herself before turning around to notice that it's Morgan. Her frustrated expression quickly slips, but she doesn't show worry either even though she very much so is worried about him. "Hey," she tries to introduce herself cautiously since he clearly doesn't realize she's there and there's no need to spook him. In a firmer tone, she adds, "What's wrong?" It's not a matter of if he's alright or not. She's not stupid plus she can hear his thoughts going a million words per minute (not that any of it is decipherable).

At first he thinks it's some random student he'll have to tell to piss off, but Morgan softens a little when he opens his eyes and sees Jocelyn look back at him. Yikes, his thoughts are probably giving her a headache, never mind himself. "Nothing," he says dismissively, directing his gaze to the expanse of water in front of them. The flickers of light dancing below the surface are clear to him, too. Something's definitely living down there. "Just- it's nothing." When he looks back at her, he notices the paper she's clutching like her life depends on it: "Something important?"

She loosens up her grip on the letter, quickly setting it aside and being careful not to place it in any water. She did that with letter number two. "No, it's just my nana back in Louisiana," she answers swiftly. Her grandmother is important, but she doesn't want to get into that. Lifting her legs from the edge, she turns herself around to fully face him. Jocelyn leans back on both of her hands, staring at him plainly as she tries to sort him out. "There's no need to lie about it. It's better if you just say you don't want to talk about it." But it is annoying her and she would rather he just verbalized whatever he was going through. It's hypocritical, sure, but she knows it's a better way of processing things.

Introducing yet another mind reader into the family really was a charming idea, wasn't it? Morgan narrows his eyes at her words, but there's no real malice behind it; usually he's very good at getting people to leave him alone, but when it's somebody who a) can literally hear his thoughts and b) he actually likes, avoidance becomes a bit more difficult. "Can you not work it out for yourself?" he asks with a raised eyebrow, wandering over to the edge where she is and sitting down too. Chances are she already knows.

She immediately laughs and doesn't even bother correcting herself or acting embarrassed at doing so. "No, your brain is being an absolute terror," she answers. It doesn't bother her if it stings since it's the truth and she figures he can handle that. "It's like listening to a room full of people. It's horrible. Not always, but certainly now." When he sits down next to her, she gives him a quick glance up and down before her lips turn down into a small frown. "Usually that means someone is really going through it." And she usually doesn't try to figure out why, but she already cares for Morgan just a little bit and she doesn't want him to be underneath so much negative emotion.

Against the odds, he laughs too at that comment; Iseult has told him similar, that his head is extremely loud and a chore to pick apart. Try living with it. He's not exactly sure just how much Jocelyn knows about Niks, or the whole situation between them. Tristan's probably told her what he knows, but even that isn't very much. Morgan's always kept his relationship with Niks private, at least the deeper stuff; it's theirs. "Honestly, it's just- relationship drama. Not very interesting," is what he eventually goes with, shaking his head. If he had to explain it properly, he's not quite sure where he'd begin. "You're the one sitting out here on your own. Are you sure you're not going through it, too?"

She shoots him an amused smirk. "It's peaceful out here, isn't it? I can enjoy my time out here without coming to sulk." Her expression remains as she straightens herself and folds her arms across her chest. "So, you're dating Niks then?" It was a guess, but she thought it was a pretty good one based off of the few tidbits she could pick up off the two. Jocelyn doesn't find it necessary to tell him why she thinks that way. "Or perhaps were dating and just broke up?"

So, she knows. Of course she does, nothing ever stays secret for very long in this family. And as much as it winds him up, he's more than aware that he's in no place to snap at her or anything; upsetting her is unnecessary, and it'll upset Tristan too, which is never a desirable situation. To be honest, he doesn't even know what he's trying to protect anymore. "Was dating Niks," he says quietly, through gritted teeth. "We broke up over summer, after I lost my hearing."

It's clear she's upset him, but she doesn't back off of it either. Jocelyn genuinely isn't trying to listen to his thoughts anymore, but she of course still hears them in the back of her mind and would prefer that they're not so jumbled and frustrating. "I'm sorry," she says after a moment. "Given I don't know her very well, but her demeanor isn't that of someone who would break up with someone over them going deaf. So, why would you break up with her over that?" Jocelyn had gone through almost a dozen breakups with her ex-boyfriend. It's painful to think about and she has to hold herself back from cringing (which she knows would just give him the opportunity to change the conversation again), but at least they all happened with good reason. It was the 'getting back together' part that never made sense.

He doesn't respond well to people prying, never has, and he's already so worked up from what happened with Niks that the third degree is almost enough to push him over the edge. "What is this, a fucking therapy session?" he kind of snaps, managing to catch himself at last minute. It's not fair to have a go at Jocelyn. He's the one that caused all the problems that have him in this state in the first place. So he lets out another sigh, trying to refocus himself on something that isn't anger, and shrugs. "No, it was- my fault. I freaked out when it happened and cut everybody off, and the longer I left it, the harder it got to talk to her again. So I just- didn't." Even after so long, and after Niks telling him several times she's forgiven him, it still hurts.

Jocelyn has been yelled at enough times by men that his snap barely bothers her. She's good at keeping her face cold even if she's stressing out inside. Sure enough, her heart starts racing and she starts heating up, but she manages to not even flinch. Collecting herself, she blinks slowly then looks back at him. "At least you admit it," her tone is a bit sour, but she continues. "Have you at least tried talking to her now?" With his attitude, she really doesn't want to deal with him if he's not really trying to do anything about it. That would be just plain annoying.

Even if she didn't flinch, he can tell when someone's been affected by something; growing up around somebody like Sabrina le Fey (at least for the years she was actually around), you tend to learn how to look through stony facades, and he sees through hers. "Sorry," he mutters, immediately apologetic - the last thing he needs to do is hurt more people today - before looking down at the ground, picking idly at blades of grass. "I mean, I just tried to kiss her, so that counts for something, right?" he says, the bitterness directed at himself rather than her. For somebody who's meant to be a Parader, he really needs to get a handle on his impulsivity.

Her expression when he mumbles his half-assed apology shows it doesn't faze her nor will she be moving past it. She will certainly remember this. "No, you didn't," she scoffs, but she realizes he's genuinely reflective over it and immediately feels guilty. Even though she feels burned, she can try to be nice. "It was probably fine. I wouldn't worry too much about it - just a little to be safe though." Projecting her own paranoia? Sure, but she thought it was reasonable.

Yikes, she's either very sensitive or has some traumatic backstory. Or both. Making mental note to keep a lid on his emotions for the foreseeable, he scoffs at the bluntness of her words; she's completely right, but he's worrying about it more than just a little. "Sure. I'll do my best not to," he smirks. The wind picks up a little at that moment and jostles some of the screwed-up balls of paper from Jocelyn's letter-writing attempts, and he nods in the direction of them, voice lacking any sense of accusing or anything when he points them out. "That's a lot of rough drafts for a letter to your grandma." Then he braces himself for a retaliation because hey, if she's going to pry, so can he.

Although her body is telling her to turn and start shoving the papers into her bag, she keeps her eyes trained on him and she barely moves a muscle. "It is, yeah. I haven't heard back from her since I left home and I would like to make sure there's nothing in this letter that she can be mad at me about." Her words are once again plain. She's not going to get heated with him, but there's no need for her to be very amiable either because she feels tested. "She's a very old and emotional woman, you know, so you have to be careful sometimes." Her grandmother was only ever like that with her, vulnerable and nurturing. She had no patience for either her son or her son-in-law and Jocelyn loved that about her. It seemed odd that she wouldn't support her leaving home.

He’s not quite sure whether he actually buys her explanation, at least wholly; which means she’s either lying or not telling the full truth - they’re not the same thing, regardless what people argue - and it doesn’t sit well with him. But then again, maybe not being so defensive and quick to suspect somebody is a trait he has to work on. Tristan clearly trusts her, a lot; that has to count for something. “I take it you’re not telling her about joining an underground crime syndicate, then,” he points out with a smirk, though it’s not malicious. “Cause that’s usually a bit of a deal breaker. Unless you’ve got parents like us.” The us being him and his cousins, and the parents being questionable.

Jocelyn laughs and gives a small shake of her head as she tries picturing it. "Oh, no, absolutely not. Maybe she would find it interesting if I worded it just right. She's always been rather supportive even during the most questionable of times." It makes her smile, but she immediately rolls her eyes and drops it, not wanting to loosen up so easily. "In a twisted, hypocritical way, my parents would probably fly out here to murder me themselves if they found out." Just thinking about their reaction gives her satisfaction since disappointing them became a specialty of hers long ago, but she would rather not be the one murdered in that scenario.

He's vaguely aware of her family issues, remembering when they'd first met and how she'd clammed up at the question. If there's one thing they can relate on, it's- "Fucked up families, eh?" He never quite knows how to verbalize his feelings about Sabrina and Carlisle eloquently, and he probably never will, but that's the closest he can get at the moment. "Why, are you the family disappointment too?" he asks, and it's clear any hostility he previous had has gone.

Jocelyn furrows her eyebrows together, looking at him with discontent. "That's a little harsh," she says, pausing for a moment before letting out a restrained laugh. Her face settled with a small smirk as she reaches up and pushes some hair behind her ear. "But yes, probably. I, uh, got kicked out over a tattoo for God's sake, so I would say they're not too proud of me." The issue was more complicated than that, but the tattoo had been the straw that broke the camel's back. She isn't bothered by it. She's glad she isn't dealing with her fathers anymore, but she misses the rest of her family. "Why are you so disappointing?"

"You got kicked out over a tattoo?" he echoes; it's very obviously more than that, unless her parents are literal prison guards, but he doesn't push it any further. Whatever events built up to that is probably what she's so defensive about. "Er- there's just a lot of expectations I don't really meet. It's not that dramatic, really." In truth, it was already an issue for him long before the mess that was the previous summer - both your parents vanishing on you as a kid doesn't do a lot for your confidence, surprisingly enough - but the tipping point had been losing his hearing. He'd never felt more useless in his life, and even now he's got it back in one ear, the continuing silence in the other just lingers as a constant reminder that he has a physical weakness he can't escape. He's been trying to change his perspective on it, but it's not that easy.

She shrugs and responds nonchalantly, "It's the tip of the iceberg." Jocelyn is sure he knows that, but she feels the need to clarify like it somehow makes her parents look more reasonable. Even though he doesn't pry, she has no problem still doing so. It does occur to her that she should provide him with the same decency, but he seems so stuck in a way that she feels inclined to ask. "Which expectations?" The question is simple. She would rather ask than assume and Jocelyn has never been good at not jumping to conclusions. It's something she should probably work on.

He gives her another look, a combination of the prying and the fact that he really doesn't know Jocelyn as well as he should, and vice versa. And he's already seen what happens with defensiveness. Maybe opening up isn't the worst idea. We have to learn to trust each other at some point. "I'm going to be leader of the Parade someday, but without my hearing aid I'm pretty much useless. My dad's just turned up with a crew of necromancers on his tail and I can't do anything to stop it. And I know there's no such thing as plans when it comes to the Parade, but Niks said something earlier about having my whole life decided for me already and it kind of hit me that, if I survive to see it, she's right. So that's fun." He doesn't even realise he's said it until the last few words leave his mouth, and his face screws up with cringe. "Sorry, that makes me sound like a massive dickhead."

She listens intently, but the moment he is done talking, she glances down to where she's toying with the zipper of her coat. Feeling a quick breeze, she zips her coat up and looks back up at him. "It does, but that's okay," she says, tilting her head to the side and raising one of her shoulders in a partial shrug. "Some advancements will be made with your hearing before you take charge of the Parade. With magic, there's no way we're limited to just this option," she motions towards his hearing aid. Jocelyn is reckless with her language, subconsciously using we instead of you as if they were in it together. "And I didn't get the impression from your mother that she's expecting you to single-handedly stop the necromancers either." She purposefully ignores his last point, deciding to hold her tongue.

She's so blunt that it's kind of refreshing; it makes a nice change from Nim's riddles, or Sabrina's oldy-worldy speech or Tristan's biting sarcasm. And it doesn't escape him how she dodges his last point, but he kind of expected her to, so he's not too phased. "I know she didn't. But I'm the one that went and found him, and brought him back to the Citadel. I know it's not my fault that he's bringing trouble with him, but..." he trails off, shaking his head a little. The hearing thing- yeah, he doesn't like talking about that with anyone.

Jocelyn lets his words sit there for a moment, not responding in hopes that he would carry on with his thought. When he doesn't, she nods. "Right, it isn't your fault. I can't expect you to not blame yourself, but you shouldn't." Most of what she knew about the trip to Jordan was about Tristan's poor snake, so she knew very little about his father. However, she doesn't think she needs to know anything else in order to come to the conclusion she just did. "Leaving to find your father was a natural reaction and you shouldn't punish yourself for that regardless of what it ended up bringing with it."

Debatable, he thinks, not entirely convinced, but the support is appreciated. Even if it does feel like a therapy session. "Sure," he says, eyes wandering over to her. "How much does Tristan tell you? About- missions, details, stuff like that. I don't mean it like I'm suspicious or anything," he adds quickly. She's a new recruit, he doesn't want to alienate her any more than he already has. "I just - don't know you as well as I should, considering we're working together."

Her eyebrows knit together for a brief moment, but she doesn't both fighting. It probably isn't as big of an offense as she thinks it is. "He doesn't really tell me anything," she says, being sure that her response doesn't just spill out of her mouth. It's purposeful if not maybe a bit too rigid. "Just about the red bitch and that you hatched him a basilisk to make up for being an asshole on that mission." Jocelyn isn't really accusing him of anything. She's simply stating it. "And that's it, but I'm under the belief you know me just fine." He knows her name (kind of, but that's her own fault), her face, and the general reason for her being here. That all seems like enough to her.

She's so defensive. Morgan thought he was bad, but she's practically under lock and key. "Right, the red bitch," he laughs; he's barely seen anything of Maladora in the Citadel apart from a flash of red in his peripheral sometimes, so quickly it makes him think he imagined it. "And - yeah, I was an asshole, that's fair. Though I hatched the basilisk before we left. I didn't do it just to say sorry," he points out, like that matters somehow. Maybe he wants her to know that he didn't just do it to make Tristan like him again. "I'm not that much of an asshole, hopefully. But regarding what you know and what you don't - you're allowed to ask, if you want to." It's not condescending or anything of the sort; it's genuine. "The Parade is more of a family than an organisation, at least it's supposed to be. And-" it's obvious Tristan cares about you. "-you're allowed to know as much as you want."

She nods thoughtfully, narrowing her eyes a slightly before returning to a more neutral expression. "Not that it matters much, but he's under the impression that she's an apology gift of sorts," she mentions, not really seeing the big deal, but if Morgan feels the need to specify that Eithne wasn't just his means of apologizing, then maybe he cares. Jocelyn is intentional in calling the basilisk she and not it despite the fact that she has a natural inclination towards the latter. It seems more respectful and Merlin, she never thought she would be considering a basilisk's feelings. "I appreciate that," she cuts off her thoughts, not wanting to think it much longer. "except I hope you know that doesn't make me obligated to tell you anything," Her tone is serious for a moment if not pathetic behind a stony exterior, lacking any bite that she thinks could offend him. "- because I won't. Not about myself anyways." She's fully aware that there is a hypocritical nature to her statements, but once again she doesn't care. It's to protect herself.

"I know," he nods, genuine. "Soren's the one that deals in secrets, not me." Even if both of them seem to have plenty of the commodity. "Guess we'll just have to learn to trust each other."

"I suppose so," she agrees, looking down at the water and trying to spot a creature or two. To some degree, she already trusts him. Something from their last conversation struck a cord and she does realize that she needs to start trusting people. She just doesn't trust anyone with her past. It doesn't seem very unreasonable to her. Not knowing what else to say, she sits comfortably in the silence.

His gaze returns to the water too, trying to suppress the start of a smile at what feels like a small, but noticeable breakthrough, when another strip of silver in the water catches his eye. The sky is darkening as the afternoon wanes in and it's not like the boathouse is particularly well-lit already, but he'd like to believe he's not losing his eyesight as well. "I fell in that water when I was in second year," he says into the silence, smirking a little at the memory. "I broke my arm. And I'm pretty sure I saw something that looked like the Loch Ness Monster, but bright silver?" Leaning forward a little, he peers into the darkness, trying to catch the little flickers of creatures breaking the surface then disappearing back in.

Jocelyn leans forward slightly as well. Her hands grip the stone edge, fearing falling in. "Well, you probably did and you're lucky it didn't eat you." She glances back at him and smiles, amused at how focused he is on the water before turning back to it herself. "It was probably some sort of kelpie. I have never seen one, but my old Creature Care professor said something about Nessie being one. Or maybe you just saw a baby sea serpent. Either way, you're lucky." Jocelyn knows she's rambling despite her careful, level-headed tone, but she enjoys the subject and doesn't really care.

He's not the most knowledgeable when it comes to magical creatures - leave that to Tristan and his snakes - and he looks back at her with a smile as she talks. "Kelpie is most likely, right? It did go to snap at me at one point but I got back onto the docks in time." He's pretty sure there are a few of those in the black lake, too, but luckily he's never waded in far enough to get eaten by anything. That's something Tristan would do. "What sort of creatures did they have at Ilvermorny?"

"We have Pukwudgies, which are basically American goblins. There's only one on campus because generally they don't get along with humans." She understands that. "My Creature Care professor had a snallygaster under lock. It made me a bit sad seeing it honestly. And there's apparently hidebehinds and wampus cats in the forest around the castle, but I never went and verified. Getting in trouble at school wasn't really an option for me." Jocelyn laughs, pushing some hair behind her ear as it fell forward into her face. Of course it was an option, but it was something she wasn't willing to risk when her father was teaching there. At least if she gets in trouble at Hogwarts, they won't send her to her father. Thinking of a particular creature, her face lights up. "Oh, but there are these cute little jackalopes! They were all over campus. We had doxies, gnomes, and common pests like that too." Her eyes are lit up. Ilvermorny was lame in many ways, but she certainly missed some parts of it.

He's never seen half of those animals in real life, only in black-and-white illustrations on old textbook pages, but her delight practically brings them to life for him. "Jackalopes? The rabbits with antlers?" He's always wanted to see one of those, ever since learning about them in sixth year. "Hogwarts must seem boring in comparison. The forest has some interesting things hiding in it - centaurs, hippogriffs, thestrals, unicorns... there was a colony of Acromatula once, but I don't know if they're still there. The old gamekeeper used to own one. And the lake has merpeople. But apart from that? It doesn't sound as fun."

Hogwarts just sounds terrifying in comparison. The forest around Ilvermorny was dangerous too, but looking at the Forbidden Forest gave her far more anxiety than looking into the one back in Massachusetts ever did. "Not really, it has it's trade-offs. Hogwarts has a more interesting and complex castle and a more beautiful view. We also don't have a Whomping Willow, so that makes up for the lack of jackalopes maybe."

"Did the jackalopes try and kill you if you got too close?" he laughs; back when he was in third year and convinced he was invincible, he'd gone up to the Willow during a storm and quickly been proven wrong. Honestly, it's amazing he's made it to seventh year in one piece. "This castle is dangerous for little kids. We're lucky Bjorn and Elayne have sensible heads on their shoulders and they're not like- well, they're not like me when I was their age." Though he may be a bad influence. He's already shown Bjorn all the secret tunnels, but that counts as life skills.

She laughs and shakes her head. "Absolutely not, but you couldn't get really close to them either. They would just hop off," she says, briefly mimicking it with her fingers before setting her hand back down at her side. "But yeah, Hogwarts is terrifying. There is essentially no concept of safety. It's just all one big accident waiting to happen." She was shocked most of this was the original castle. It didn't seem right that the place hadn't completely fallen apart yet.

"Are you finding your way around it okay?" he asks; he can't imagine transferring over in your last year to this school. It took him at least two years to even get his bearings, especially once he'd made mortal enemies of half the portraits and they began giving him false directions to classrooms. "Between the staircases changing and all the fake doors, it's easier to get lost than anything else."

"I'm finding my way around well enough? The ghosts and portraits are all very sweet," she says, grinning and toying with a piece of hair. If anything, the dungeons are the worst part of the whole castle, but she has to spend so much time down there that she basically has the whole place sorted. "I don't understand why the rooms move or there's fake doors. It's so impractical." She makes a face, troubled by the idea of the founders thinking that was so genius of them.

It's funny hearing a newcomer's confusion over it all after seven years of just living with it. Even though graduation is right around the corner, he's going to miss this place when he leaves. "I guess the founders thought they were being clever," he shrugs, then grins when she talks about the portraits. The pirate guy still curses him every time Morgan walks past. "The portraits hate me. At least, most of them do. Whenever I used to sneak around after hours, they'd grass me up to the prefects."

Jocelyn wasn't really one for sneaking around after hours because she liked to try to get in as much sleep as she could. Sleeping in the Slytherin dorms wasn't easy. In fact, she has barely been getting any sleep at all. "I couldn't sleep one night, so I snuck into the kitchens to make something. Point is- the portraits were all rather nice. One threatened me, but she's just racist I think." Her nose scrunches up at the thought. Having all of these old white people trapped in paintings also seemed like a horrible idea, but of course four old white people thought it was a great one. "I wonder what you did to them to make them hate you so much," she says with a small smirk.

Oh, some of the portraits are definitely racist. Jocelyn's right - a lot of them are just rude and out-of-touch, but they talk quick and once one dislikes you, the entire castle quickly follows suit. "Yeah, having portraits from the medieval times still on the walls isn't the brightest idea. I'm sure I said something to one of them when I got caught," he smirks too - it was more than likely the pirate guy. Connard. "They tend to hold grudges for centuries."

"I can't blame them. They have rather lonely and bland lives; it's almost torture to capture someone's conscious in a painting like that." Jocelyn would certainly never want to become a painting (and if she ever was, her painting self would probably remind everyone of it). Have her painted, sure. She's pretty enough for it. Just don't charm it to be like her. After a moment's thought, she adds, "I think they deserve it. They're sweet, sure, but to be honest I think it's a pervy thing." Most of the portraits who liked her were men after all and although it hadn't really bothered her much, it kind of does now that she's actually thinking about it.

The comment about them being pervy makes him wonder if the portraits have ever said anything to Niks; she'd be too nice to tell them to piss off, after all, and his brow furrows a little. "Why, what do they say to you?" If he has to go down to the dungeons and yell at an animated painting, he'll do it.

Jocelyn turns to him, knitting her eyebrows together in thought. "Just compliments, you know, but that's fine," she says, shrugging it off. "Sometimes it's better to just use that sort of thing to your advantage. It made sneaking out a couple of times way easier. Anyways, they're paintings, so they can't do anything serious." Just the topic makes her chest feel tight with anxiety and she quickly switches her gaze back to the water. "I wouldn't worry about it."

Whatever happened to her, it was clearly something to do with men, and Morgan shifts uncomfortably that the thought of what she could have gone through; hopefully she feels safer with the Parade, but knowing some of the scumbags in their year, it wouldn't surprise him if one of the Schloenfields have already tried it on. "Words still hurt, though," he points out, voice quiet and eyes fixed on the water. "Taking the portraits off the wall and turning them around is always a good payback. It confuses them for a few days, they start going wandering and get lost in some landscape on a different floor."

Hearing him wonder what happened pisses her off, but she bites her tongue and lifts her hands from the stone. She instead wraps her arms around her small frame and leans forward slightly to look into the water. When he mentions his revenge against the portraits, she laughs and glances up at him. "Well, no wonder they don't like you very much," she says teasingly. "I might have to try it, but if it means they're ratting on me all of the time, then I would rather the comments. I'd take those over detention any day."

"Detention's not so bad when you know there's an escape route behind the bookcase," he points out with a small grin. The amount of times he managed to miss writing lines for a few hours by sneaking out when the supervisor's back war turned is up in the double figures. "Plus the professors stop bothering when you're about to graduate. We're going to be gone in less than a year." That still feels weird to say; even if there's still ten months to go, he knows it'll fly by. The past six years certainly have.

Jocelyn has a tendency to not get herself in trouble, so she isn't too worried about landing herself in detention. Maybe that only works at Ilvermorny though, where she knew most of the professors' personal problems (thanks, Papá). "Why would anyone put in something like that? This castle is so stupid," she says with a small huff, but she quickly laughs. "But that's fine, right? The time could go by a lot quicker and I wouldn't be upset." Her entire life had been spent waiting for the moment where she graduates and leaves home, but now that she has done one of those things (and arguably the more important), she doesn't care to wait for the other.

He's kind of the opposite when it comes to wanting time to go faster. So many of his childhood years were wasted being on his own and fending him for himself that only having three years in the castle with Tristan and Iseult by his side, and less than two with Niks, feels like several stolen opportunities. "You've only just got here, and you're already ready to go?" he asks, eyebrows raised a little in surprise but not judging. Transferring over in your last year is strange by itself, so there were obviously some other circumstances he's not yet aware of. "I'd kill for this year to slow down as much as possible."

"Absolutely," she says, exaggerating the syllables in a very American way. It makes her drop her usually more Mexican accent for a moment before it picks back up. "I felt like such an adult coming here on my own, taking care of myself-" Barely. "- and spending my nights however I wanted. Being back in school is like becoming a child all over again." Jocelyn generally likes school and is having a good time overall, but she thinks she's pretty reasonable in just wanting to move on with her life and become a proper adult.

It's kind of funny to him that that's what he can relate to Jocelyn over: the independence. Sure, he was a lot younger when he was left on his own and he had no clue what the hell he was doing, scrambling to survive and living off of whatever he could get, but he'd felt like an adult back then. Even though he was thirteen and malnourished, being alone had forced him to grow up pretty quickly. "Living on your own's fun until you realise it really is just you," he huffs a laugh, shaking his head as his mind wanders to those formative years. What a waste. "Then it's just lonely. Though you learn to get by a lot quicker than everybody else."

She tosses her head from side to side in thought, furrowing her brows and squinting her eyes. When she's done thinking, she relaxes her expression and starts following a small, dark creature in the water. "I didn't really have friends at Ilvermorny. Not for a while anyways, and that was incredibly lonely," she says cooly. Jocelyn is used to being alone. It's why she didn't really mind silence even if it was with someone else. "When I finally made friends, they were older and that- that wasn't a good idea." Her expression hardens for a brief moment out of disgust that she's even bringing it up. "I don't know. I suppose I'm just used to it and the loneliness doesn't bother me." She pauses before deciding to pry once more. "When were you living on your own?"

Not having friends at school for a while is- definitely something he can relate to, though he doesn't flinch or react when she says it. At her prying, he doesn't flinch either. It's not like it's a secret, especially amongst his family. "Sabrina left when I was eleven, and came back halfway through sixth year," he says, casually; although some residual anger towards his mother will always remain for what she did, he's made peace with it. After all, it's not like it was her fault. "And I thought my dad was dead. If it weren't for Tristan and Iseult transferring over, I'd probably still be on my own now."

She frowns a little when Morgan speaks. It's a lot to process. Most people don't go through all of that, so it's certainly unusual and incredibly heartbreaking for her to hear. "I'm sorry, Morgan. I can't imagine the pain that put you through," her tone is sympathetic yet she is far from babying him. "At least you have people now."

The sympathy surprises him a little considering the general tone of their conversation so far, but he merely shakes his head a little, smiling to show he appreciates it. "Honestly, it's fine. I'm just glad she came back, y'know? And my dad reappeared, so- I could be a lot lonelier." Of course, Niks is missing from that equation and that's pretty vital for his happiness, but that might be unachievable at this point. "And you've got friends here, right? You've got us."

Jocelyn smiles back. As much as she's trying to suppress his thoughts, she can tell he's thinking about Niks again. It's easier to just ignore it and for once not push it further. "Yeah, it's been nice so far," she states simply before realizing that perhaps she could come across as a bit of a bitch in her lack of praise. Being complimentary came easily to her, but sometimes it just feels weird verbalizing her appreciation for others. Refraining from rolling her eyes, she adds, "Actually, I really appreciate it. I would've found my way eventually, but it helps having you and the others around." She almost mentions Tristan by name, but remembers the texts that one night and stifles a small gag as she turns away from Morgan. Her eyelashes flutter before she finally manages to roll her eyes out of sight.

"That's good to know," he nods, satisfied that hey, maybe they can all get along. First impressions suck but sometimes you can overcome them, right? His phone buzzes at that moment with a notification for his next class - ancient runes, of all things, how fun - and he tilts his head back to the sky, debating whether or not to go for a quick moment before deciding that he really should. Anything to take his mind off what's just happened in the dungeons. "Have you got class next, or are you stopping out here?" he asks as he stands up, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder.

"No, I'm staying," she responds almost instantly. Off the top of her head, she isn't even sure if she has a class or not, but she knows she's not going either way. When he gets up, she turns to start pushing the messed up letters into her bag, keeping the current one out and looking it over for a moment before putting it away. Just before she forgets. Jocelyn is about to lean back on her hands and opens her mouth to say goodbye before she remembers which class she actually has. "Shit, Transfig. Uh, we can walk together at least some of the way," she suggests, lifting herself up with a small hop and throwing her bag over her shoulder.

"Sure," he nods, already hoping the staircases don't get stuck again - that seems to be happening a lot to him recently - before he stops for a second. After all, the first time around wasn't a decent apology, was it? "Hey, I- I am sorry for snapping at you. That wasn't fair." He's working on it.

She's gotten used to how tall everyone seems to be around here, but when Morgan stops and looks at her, it really does become overwhelming. "It was a little bit. I was pushing it," she responds, instinctually wanting to be the person to blame. She's used to that. "So, I'm sorry. I would've probably done the same, but thanks for the apology anyways." Jocelyn smiles slightly. While she does genuinely appreciate the apology, she had been prepared to never bring it up as long as it never happened again and him mentioning it felt like he was making it more of an issue than she wanted it to be.

Honestly, she's confusing. Jocelyn has to be one of the most confusing people he's ever met, and that's coming from the son of Sabrina le Fey, but at the same time he weirdly doesn't mind. "Come on, then, before we're late. The staircases seem to have it out for me so if they get stuck, it's probably my fault," he nods, before heading off in the direction of the castle.