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Rosciel sat under a tree, back against the trunk (More of a precautionary measure than relaxation). His head was tilted back, arms crossed casually, legs stretched out in front of him, his brown foxsquirrel Ripley curled up on one thigh. For all the world he looked asleep, even with the roughly two-foot long stick held loosely in his right hand (Also for precaution. Hey, he was new). For the most part, he was just resting. It had been a stressful day and it seemed like his professors were intent on making things complicated for him here. Sure, he couldn't blame them. Paper was the easiest thing to use. And it could have been worse. If he had gone to school several years earlier, he wouldn't have been able to read printed material at all. That had been one of his most difficult lessons.

His headache had subsided, he had turned off his "vision" almost completely, but for a dim sensation of objects around him. The good part about his strange form of sight was that he had a wider range of view than a good number of the other students, at least by what he had seen of their human-form physiology. Most probably could only see 120 degrees without moving their head. He, on the other hand, could "see" a full 180 degrees. It was a perk, but it didn't by any means make up for the downsides. Lack of colors without narrowing his concentration, which meant no telling where someone was looking, no reading, no telling what a pretty ghoul's hair or eye color was, having to live with pretty much the same wardrobe. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't particularly enjoy having only four colors in his wardrobe, but he didn't want to risk wearing the wrong color pants with the wrong color shirt or that his coat didn't go with his shirt or... Yeah, that was one less headache he needed.

His hand gripped the stick tightly for a moment before subsiding as he relaxed again.
School, so far, sucked.

Rosc continued to sit quietly, even as he expanded his vision when something moved at the edges of it. He remembered what it was like having eyes, so it was kind of like when you have them narrowed so much you can only see a little bit through your lashes and then you open them ever so slightly.

It was a ghoul. She'd moved slowly into his vision and stopped rather abruptly, he could assume because she'd seen him. Was she deciding what to do next, to leave him be or approach? Probably. And while he'd rather be left alone, it was just as bad that she was standing there as it would be to be talking to him. It wasn't the attention part that he really hated, it was others being around him in general, being too close.

"I can see you, you know," he said, turning his head slightly as if to get a better look at her. Which he didn't really need to do, it was really more for effect.

"You could call it show. I've learned most people are a bit put off seeing someone who has had their eyes forcibly removed." The tone in his voice was not polite. It was a low, sarcastic drawl and his head tilted again as if he were giving her a 'That was a great question' look. Rosc gently picked up the curled ball of Foxsquirrel and carefully slipped her into her designated pocket before standing to face the ghoul.

"I'd show you, but I don't want to have to carry you to the nurse's office when you faint." Oh, now that was a lie. No one had seen his face unmasked, not since he had left the hospital. Not even Nik. The sounds the nurses had made when his bandages were taken off was enough to solidify that decision. But then, she didn't know that and even if she pressed the matter, he could just say he didn't feel like it. Which really was the truth.

Not wanting to tower over her, or tilt his head down, Rosc sat back down halfway through standing, stretching one leg out again, but bending the left up so that he could rest his forearm on it.
"Don't care to find out," he replied honestly, adding a little shrug for nonchalance. He was still a demon, full of pride and to be so... damaged was a serious blow to it. He could tell people, that was no biggie, go into the full detail of that evening, of each and every claw-mark and tear his aunt had left in his flesh. But he would never show someone, not if he had anything to say about it. There was always a difference between hearing about something and seeing it for yourself. Seeing it made it real.

His wing was no better. He subconsciously tucked it further behind his back. The only reason he didn't try to hide that too was because it really was a b***h trying to fit them under a coat. It was damaged, and useless, but at least it wasn't... painful-looking, he supposed. No one ever commented on that.

"Yeah, I do. I'm a chauvinistic b*****d that way." He even added a bit of a smirk to his tease. He didn't really think that way, from his experience women could be frighteningly tough. But he wasn't known to be nice.

Rosc just shrugged of her comment. It was a foolish thought, good thing he didn't really believe it. Squeamish or no, he didn't want anyone to see and that was final.
But her final comment did cause one eyebrow to rise.

"Knocked back?" Was she asking if a ghoul had insulted him or something? Well, Sin had somewhat questioned him being a demon, but they had seemed to part company on relatively good terms. She'd invited him to her demon party, though he wasn't sure yet if he would go. There were issues that could arise, but... it might be worth it.
He gave her another shrug.

"You're the second ghoul I've met here."

"I didn't come to school to meet ghouls," Rosc replied, taking a thoughtful pause to take Ripley back out of his pocket. If he was going to sit about, he was sure that his pet would appreciate not being in his pocket. The foxquirrel opened one large green eye and yawned at him when he set her back down on his leg.

"I just got here, and prefer my privacy... Usually." Well, most of the time... More often than not... If he had a choice, he would never interact face-to-face with another person again... Maybe.
She seemed to be if not a little put-off by his attitude, a common reaction. Then why was she still here?

Rosc shrugged again and gave Ripley a scratch between her ears.
"Didn't have much choice otherwise. It was either school or tutors and my mentor wasn't going to pay more than he had to. He says this will straighten me out." If Rosc could roll his eyes, he would have. He had a feeling coming here would make him even more of a hermit.

"I doubt the gatherings are mandatory," he added, thinking of the demon-only party he had been invited to once Sin had figured out that he was, in fact, a demon. He was still debating on whether or not he should go (Whether he wanted to or not wasn't really the question), but that was a special case. Going to other parties... He may just blow most of them off to chill in his room. And he usually had a legitimate reason to, anyways.

"This is a prime example, I would think," Rosc replied, gesturing idly to her. He had come out here for a quiet rest and it hadn't stayed so quiet.

Complete waste of time... Yeah, Human History Studies had given him some insight in that. Who asked the stupid questions and who asked more meaningful ones. Still, he didn't like others getting close. One never knew... when someone as close as family could turn on you.

The incubus gave her a small smirk when she asked for his name.
"Doubtful. If you hadn't asked, of course," he said and leaned his head back against the tree again.
"Rosciel, but I'll respond to Rosc, too."