<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(136, 80, 213)"><span style="font-size: 26px"><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'">Mystera</span></span></span><br/>
<span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'">@ Professor Ianice Classroom.<br/>
w/ Strangers, Professor Ianice, Professor Asterrio.<br/>
Wearing <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.pinimg.com%2F564x%2F97%2F72%2F56%2F9772562a7780dc47a6c47f800a940a01.jpg&amp;hash=dcb60de031b7a13f5ffdaacd79573668" href="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/97/72/56/9772562a7780dc47a6c47f800a940a01.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">uniform </a>with <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.pinimg.com%2F564x%2F80%2F51%2Fa1%2F8051a18563406bd2c5cf1b067cba9412.jpg&amp;hash=a00b0250de17024d63bca595bf462931" href="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/80/51/a1/8051a18563406bd2c5cf1b067cba9412.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">shawl</a>. Hair <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.pinimg.com%2F736x%2F20%2Fed%2Faa%2F20edaa65584b90fd07356dfa8d635d23--fairy-hairstyles-braided-hairstyles.jpg&amp;hash=70a09f9001f3738e0da003f2539117b4" href="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/20/ed/aa/20edaa65584b90fd07356dfa8d635d23--fairy-hairstyles-braided-hairstyles.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">braided</a><br/>
Carrying Beauvilliers rosary and sack with books.</span>​</div><br/><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'"><span style="font-size: 15px">Mystera could sense tension ringing in the air. Se had begun to doubt if she truly should have stepped forward. Yet... she was beckoned by the ethereal presence of her twin sister to be pushed forward. She brought an hand to slowly comfort that of her opposite arms' elbow and glanced to the side with her eyes now opened, yet humbly diverted away. She could feel the eyes of Ianice stare at her as she felt a blush slowly start to creep upon her cheeks. Her peripheral could only allow her to assume he saw her as a threat, yet strangely enigmatically enchanting. Or so was her perspective.<br/>
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But then the voice of her homeroom professor, Professor Asterrio, spoke up. A subtle smile graced her lips once she felt the comfort of familiarity. Yet she knew Anais kept a close eye on Mystera.<br/>
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<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 102, 255)">"Thou has shown excellence. Ne vous inquiétez pas, my love."</span></i></span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)">With that, Mystera closed her eyes once more and took a sigh of relief once she had heard the words graced in her direction that she was to also join the White Castle. Her presence wasn't for naught, and it brought a tingling sensation of joy. Yes, Mystera was quite the mysterious woman, so was the reason she went by such an alias. But she still was a human being. <br/>
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Yet she could not forfeit the hostility that echoed in the undertone of Professor Ianice. T'wasn't much of a stretch to be seen as a threat, however. Yet while a subtle worry began to swell up, she could feel the comfort of Anais reverting this.</span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(153, 0, 204)"><i>"Does thou sense the same, my love?"</i></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 102, 255)"><i>"Oui, my love. But thy presence is not like others. Seek comfort in your uniqueness."</i></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)">She took a quiet, yet deep breath in her own train of thoughts... then returned to the prospect of her initial goal. Perhaps this would allow her to step forward in her ambitions to reunite with her twin sister, whatever way. Who knows?<br/>
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Next had she been directed to convene with the other students that were gathered around that she stepped away from. She shyly glimpsed in their direction and counted however many there were. A few were perplexed by Mystera and her sudden appearance. But, Mystera was used to such. </span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(153, 0, 204)">"Merci, Professor."</span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)">She said as she glanced up to the professor, albeit with her head still shyly down. She then turned to Professor Astierre, and bowed.</span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(153, 0, 204)">"Merci."</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)">With that, she gracefully, yet slowly twirled as to not whip anyone with her hair nor expose anything that didn't need to be. She walked toward the group, yet passed them. She sat behind them, shyly clutching onto her the same rosary as they spoke, albeit a couple of gossips in regards to Mystera ringing in the air. Such was the illusion of Mystera's presence: that of something that was hard to make out. Was she a threat? Was she a friend? Few knew.<br/>
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Regardless, her eyes glimpsed over to the group of adults as they whispered amongst themselves until she was otherwise spoken to.</span></span></span>