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She sighed and patted Arcana on the shoulders. “Don’t worry. They’ll quiet down eventually—“ Tarot winced at the spike in volume. The reaper gladly allowed Arcana to jump out of her arms and under the table as Selene tumbled over. “Oh dear.” She followed her brother, but instead of joining them beneath the table she took a seat at one of the empty seats and leaned over to peer at them both. “Perhaps we should move to a different class for the time being?”

Tarot winced again as she heard Westhor. Awkwardly, she reached out to pat him on the knee. “Stop crying, dear. I…will chill with you. Yes.”

He just looked up, and gave his classmate the saddest puppy eyes ever.

The first question was completely out there. Where did the professors come up with this junk? Rowly took his text book out and took a sneak peek before marking something down that maybe felt right. He wasn't completely sure if it was or wasn't and frankly didn't really care.

Selene looked up, and the first thing she saw was a handkerchief. She automatically assumed that Rowly was trying to tell her she was bleeding, and she panicked, her hands flying to every part of her face and arms to check for blood. She had no idea he was actually trying to help her up, so she took the handkerchief and started wiping it on her skin, checking frequently for bloodstains.

"Ahh, ahh, thank you, where is it, where isss it.." She barely managed to whisper, still checking even as Arcana rushed to her side. Her panicked dabbing slowed to a stop when she realized Arcana had rushed to help her, and with the current conversation still fresh in her mind, it was hard not to blush.

"I am unhurt, Arcie, I'm okay." For once, she hadn't broken something. She just looked up at Rowly sheepishly, and put the handkerchief back into his outstretched hand. Then she just.. sat there.

She wasn't going to risk getting up on her own. Ohh no. She knew better.

Westhor's scream made her want to cry all over again, but she sucked it in and held her breath, keeping herself from falling to pieces.. for once.

Oh dear. Her worst weakness—puppy eyes. “Stop giving me those eyes, dear, and come over here.” Tarot smiled and patted the empty chair next to her. Was she going to regret this? Maybe.

The last answer on the exam was another that Rowly wasn't sure what he was looking at. The were penguin made a face at his paper and almost crumbled it up in a ball. Instead he took his book out and began reading. Obviously he needed to study before going on to take any exam. This was not going to be the cake walk he originally thought.

Part of him was tempted to leave with all the loud noise bouncing about the room.

"....." His own silence was almost painful and sharp. The judgement going on in his grey eyes could scorch as he tried to distract him self with his studies.

Akithor trudged in with an armful of books and a rather sleepy expression. The ghost boil's hair was messily flattened by his other hand as he tried to get it right again. No, he didn't really sleep to accomplish bedhead, but he did tend to play video games all night while resting on his side.

His disheveled appearance wasn't nearly as alarming, he thought, in comparison to the current look on Wes' face.

"Uh... problem, bro?--" Settling the books over a desk nearby, the ghost kept his perplexed eyes on the other ghostly boil's line of sight until he spotted Tarot.

His bro was doing it again. Ghouls. He had his game face on and he didn't even know it. Was he seriously going to do that with Tarot? Yep. "C'mon, Tarot, don't tell me that stuff works on you. Really?"