Scene #1108:

Owner	Pose
Quentyn Westwind	After all that... Quentyn just finds a nice, secluded corner to wait out his embarrassment. He sits with his back against the wall and tucks his knees against his chest. Embarrassed himself in front of his boss, lost his cool in front of the club he wanted to join, and didn't introduce his newly put together team to each other. What's he thinking? 'Oops.'
Noiela	Noiela runs, feet pounding the ground in a lumbering sprint as her reliance on tomes and long distance observation shows itself in every laboured breath. Almost skidding past the very person she wants to confront in the indecent haste, ploughing a furrow in soft soil when she finally grinds to a stop, pivoting round to regard Quentyn huddled in his misery corner. Paying no heed to any onlookers that might stare at the sight, she squats down to face him, coat hem gathering dirt. "He...Quentyn?" Spoken softly, upward twitch to the pale girls lips. "Quite a showing."
Quentyn Westwind	Quentyn looks back up-- unfortunately, well, this just brings blood back to the pale Ramuha's face. He half-rises when Noiela skids on nearly by... but she keeps her balance! Well, that's impressive. 'Quite a showing' just renews the blush even more. He looks off to one side. "Um... sorry," he murmurs quietly and awkwardly.
Noiela	"Sorry." Noielas own mortification comes in a similar rush of blood and she takes a deep breath, composing her expression into an ironed 'blank'. Dismissing the twinged protest of cramping muscles, her gaze fixes back on target. "You were simply airing how absurd it all was-anyway, they seemed intent on outdoing each other. I'm just-dismayed my cookies played a part in their stalemate."
Quentyn Westwind	Blinkblink. Blank stare, then a curious tilt of his head. "Your cookies?" Quentyn really does just sound mildly curious, not accusatory. Well, Noiela wasn't exactly encourage them to eat them.
Noiela	"Yes. Those two-" Noiela smothers a rather unpleasant curse from erupting, stung anew it seems by the prospect. "-we baked cookies. They were like chocolate smeared sand, minus the gritty texture...until your tastebuds give out." Massaging her forehead, the girl groans slightly. "Are all academies this..." Tactfully revising her initial 'insane' to "Emotionally charged?"
Quentyn Westwind	"...but they weren't supposed to give them out?" Quentyn half guesses, half-concludes with a sigh. Are all academies like this? Quentyn actually thinks about the question for a moment before he shrugs helplessly. Then he pushes himself up off the ground. "Um..." he looks back at the club building. "I need to get some supplies for the run on Whyday..." From the one of the chemists' clubs? Probably not, after that. He looks back to Noiela. "Do you need potions or ethers or echo drops or anything?"
Noiela	Practically springing up, Noiela stifles a groan for the protesting ache in her stiffened joints. It quickly fades, however and then she can focus on answering his question. "I-good question. I'm still not certain whether our means of summoning forth reality bending forces are compatible enough to ensure ethers would have any effect on me...but you? I could carry a few extra to distribute amongst the team." A light, affectionate pat to the complex network that lies beneath and between the unassuming folds of her coat. Her brow furrows, staring hard at the wall; challenge accepted. Briskly, falling into commander mode. "I'll need several healing potions of different potencies-buy just one or two of the highest grade, use your discretion when it comes to ailment curatives. I'd suggest ones that keep you fighting fit, but not exclusively. We cannot base our entire mode of operations round a single member; plus...if you can locate tomes similar to mine, that may be used..." Deep breath. "I'd be grateful. At the moment, all I can do is a few paltry hexes, plus swordplay-more elemental flexibility would be invaluable."
Quentyn Westwind	At first Quentyn looks a little taken aback at the sudden commander-mode... but he's seen it before. Mentally he catches up with what she's said. "Um... yah, but um, we don't need that many..." He fiddles with the hem of his jacket, then gives a a kind of shy smile. "Potions are just back up in case, um, something happens to me or I can't cast or things like that..." And they're a bit expensive and he's worried his pay might get docked soon! The white mage curls a finger and taps it against his chin, but already he looks skeptical. "Um, I don't know if Galianda would have..." He trails off, shrugs, then grins tentatively. "Have you been to Doomtrain Square or the Doomtrain Strip off that? Um... some of the stores, like the ones in the Square itself, are kinda pricey... But if there's anything you want to find, that's the place to look." Quentyn nods. And they don't have to go back into the club building.
Noiela	Quietly, Noiela acquieses to both his suggestion and alteration of her great plan- Operation Potion Pack. Names are not her strength. Still, her willingness to listen indicates a borderline respect for the white mage. When he suggests the place, it is immediately accepted with a smile and sweeping motion of pointedly away from Alexander Academy itself. "Lead on. Actually, wait...if I can scrape together a little money before Wynday, then I won't be eating into your personal funds quite so thoroughly."
Quentyn Westwind	Wait wait wait-- a girl he's taking on a shopping trip was actually planning on using his money?? Yes, Quentyn does look surprised by this, even to the point of having his mouth half open to say something. Then he closes it. "Umm..." "Whyday," he corrects automatically. "Umm, it's ok, I can share a few medicines..." That's all they'd need to buy, right? "Um, do you want to go tomorrow? The Doomtrain statue looks really neat at dusk or night, they did a really good job with the lighting." A pause while he fiddles with his glasses, "Or um, I guess we could put it off until Mirday but..." Cutting it close, Quentyn leaves unsaid. What if the shops are out of stock of something?
Noiela	Observing his reaction, Noiela seems to divine his thought process and hastily attempts an explanation, turning bright red when it sinks in how presumptuous she might have been. "I realise..." She begins quietly, disgusing with effort the slight rasp. "Such an arrangement is not ideal. But I-I have no money and lodgings to still pay. So, at this moment...besides, it will be worth the expense if we attain victory?" Adding belatedly, "We can calculate what I owe you afterwards." Catching up on what he leaves unsaid, she nods. "Sooner the better."
Quentyn Westwind	"It's ok, um..." Quentyn looks embarrassed again, and smiles awkwardly in an attempt at alleviating awkwardness. Aren't they an awkward pair. "I-It's worth it," the boy nods decisively. But, well, some of the students here are princes, and some are scholarship students. "U-Um, you don't have to pay it back," he nods as he references what she said earlier, "Yah, it's for the party. Only. Um." He scratches the back of his head, a common enough habit for the boy but for once there's no hood in the way. "We just have to choose carefully..." Nodnod. The diplomatic way to put it.
Noiela	Social anxiety relieved, Noiela relaxes...retakes the mantle of the slightly less gawky teenager, adult aspirant. "Every potion counts?" She remarks, smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Looking away momentarily, her dark stare travels skyward. Musingly, "To think I'd be discussing money and lack thereof- interesting times." Addressing Quentyn again, she retrieves a crumpled, almost illegible piece of paper. "You may locate me at this address." Out she holds the object that when taken and unfolded is written in smudged pen by a heavily slanting hand. Numerous lines where the paper has been folded multiple times do not help in translating it. Thankfully, Noiela quietly mentions the place itself when the exchange is made. A modest set of lodgings, probably no more than a room just about large to fit a bed with cupboard proportioned bathroom.
Quentyn Westwind	Quentyn's eyes follow Noiela's skyward. Which, them being on the moon, means they see the whole clockwork world laid out above (or below, depending on your perspective). The white mage might be a bit more used to it, yet, it never really gets old. But his speculative gaze is drawn back to the tactician at that comment. Monied, once? Quentyn receives the paper with both hands, but (after a quick glance) it looks like he's more intent on memorizing the verbalized version than counting on the note. "Ok. I'm at-" And Quentyn gives the specific building/block/dorm room he's in. He gives a quick smile. "See you in a day or two?" Now all Quentyn has to do is forget about today and not make eye contact with the others that were there. Perfect plan.