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Makai Royal Academy; the building was impressive to the point that she could not help the pride that she was now a student. The pathway to becoming a reaper was sprawled out before her─a challenge that she would conquer. The ideal in her mind had been painted; a haze of watercolors that had only recently found details scratched into the canvas. Details that were not acclimated with reality she was finding; her welcoming had not gone as expected.

The rooms inside the school had lost some appeal when her appointed tour guide had vanished. The student─spirits she hoped it could not have been a teacher─had, in retrospect, taken her to the library for one reason only. To effectively and quickly lose her. And much to her annoyance they'd done a fine job of it. She had spent most of her wandering with musing upon a scheme that would teach them a lesson. On the off chance she ran into them. If they knew what was good for them, they'd not run into her for awhile which would give her plenty of time to think of the right payback. The fact someone could be so irresponsible and unprofessional in such an institution galled her.

It was not in the best of moods that she (finally) located her room. The door was closed and the hallway deserted; and for a moment she rested her forehead against it in relief. Once she had found her center, her hand settled on the knob and she twisted the cool metal. The latch released and she pushed her way into the main room.

The living area was hard to gauge for it was filled with boxes and crates and other items. Evidence of moving in; although it was a fair lot more than she could remember packing. The boxes and crates in the left corner near one open doorway had the name of her family's vineyard on them. The ones in the middle─they were not hers. There was another open doorway and she frowned. She walked over to her things and turned her head. As her scarlet eyes swept through everything she found that yet again her expectations were not in tune with actuality. This had certainly not been in any variation of her ideal. Not that there was much she could do about it. Regardless of her feelings, it appeared she was going to have a roommate.

She had opened the smallest box of her things; two red books sat on the pile of folded bedding and her pale hands reached to pick the first one up. Indeed her fingers had closed around the one given to her by her mother─a red leather diary with red heart silhouette on the cover and crisp white pages to fill (a contrast to the one given by her brother; a more subdued diary of uneven white parchment bound and wrapped in red leather held closed by a tie with a lucky coin and key as the sole embellishments). The gift was dropped back into the box with a dull thud as the entrance doorway swung open. Pivoting in her crouched position, she turned to see a contrasted girl; pale skin offset with dark hair and eyes so deep in color they seemed empty.

The other girl─no doubt this was her roommate who would inhabit the other bedroom─bent down without her stare wavering to retrieve an envelope; she hadn't noticed it on entering and doubtful the other girl would have either had her shoe not found it. A twitch of her lips was the only sign she made to comment on a rather terrible attempt to inform them of the situation beforehand. This kerfuffle best not be an indicator of how the academy hoped to teach them magic and prepare them for whichever path they chose to take. She sighed as she rose and took a step forward until her fingers grasped the note.

Only a few of the words caught her attention: apologies, error, roommate. If anything she found it less of an explanation than seeing a suite with two bedroom and another witchling enter. Perhaps her expectations needed to be downgraded for the time being. "I'm not sure whether to thank them for the inadequate notice or draft an answer to shred their apparent lack of foresight," she sighed, "but as the latter would take more effort than they right now deserve..." It was meant to be humorous but she hadn't received her wit or mind from Callias, who could tell a joke that everyone knew was a joke, instead she resembled her mother (it was an ongoing debate whether she'd received anything at all from her father─one that never could be truthfully answered), a serious voice that made everything sound deadpanned. It likely be too much to hope that the girl before her understood that but she didn't clarify.

Instead she took hold of the paper with her left hand, eyes momentarily distracted by the scarlet lacquer of her nail polish against the white parchment, before extending her right hand to the girl. "Drusilla Resi Spini," she introduced herself. "And you are?" she inquired, undecided on whether the lack of knowledge of who her roommate was should be considered one more strike against the way things were to have gone in her ideal.

If Étaín had said such a thing aloud, the witchling would have blushed a stunning scarlet that matched her hair, because it was something people had said to her before. Where most people seemed to find it easier to speak in short sentences, she found herself thinking in long winding processes and it was no surprise that she spoke that way too. However it could be such a different story when she became angry or frustrated; her tongue would end up tied in knots and she'd shout in stuttered vehement outbursts.

The hesitance was not noticed although she thought her new roommate might be even more dissatisfied when it came to the situation than she was. As they grasped hands, the only thing she really noticed was that the brunette's hand was quite chilled to the touch. Vaguely she wondered if she should buy the girl some gloves but the idea was let go, placed somewhere in the back of her mind.

"Yes, it's nice to meet you as well," she smiled, a little tight and uncomfortable, before nodding. "I imagine the last thing you were expecting was another girl to share your room with, especially after returning, so there's no need to apologize," she attempted to make the other girl feel more at ease. It was something her siblings─especially her five-year old sister─were better at.

After the small gesture, Drusilla retreating to her own boxes. Once more her hands had closed around the two journals. She rested them against her knees as she knelt and carefully pulled out the white and coral pink bedding. The first thing she wanted to do was make her bed so she would have a comfortable, clean, place to sleep. As soon as meeting her roommate was done anyway.

"Yes, there were some things that had to be attended to before I could come," she stated softly. For a moment, it seemed as though she might leave it at that. "Did you forget something at home then?"

That struck a chord in her own heart. This girl, too, had lost her father? She did not want to think how long it had been since her father's death. Quite a lot less than a year and it was partly why it had taken her so long to come to the academy. In fact, had it not been at her own and then her mother's insistence, she may have been late.

"That," she looked up from where her fingers continued to smooth the wrinkle-free bedding, "I'm sorry for your loss." It was rather monotone, lacked the feeling, but she had heard it so damn often lately that the phrase itself felt hollow. It was a platitude that offered no comfort. "I doubt my mother will be sending for me, my siblings will keep her busy enough," she tacked on quickly, both to not seem as though she did not care for her roommate's loss or that the emotion stuck in her throat was not there.

Scarlet eyes followed her roommate's movements and her head shook. "Of course not." With a fluid and graceful motion, she rose from her kneeling position. She was about to move towards her room, make the bed, and then drag her boxes in there to sort through.

The question caught her off guard, still, and she faltered in her step. It took her spine going rigid and reminding herself to breath to answer. "It was not ideal but things rarely are..." She knew there was more she should say, that her answer was vague and unsatisfactory but for the life of her she couldn't form the words. It had been terrible but she was so very fiercely resolved, now, to become a reaper that she found herself forced to think of it as something that happened for a reason.