<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/Rt15vIB.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Helena Cross<br/><strong>Student ID:</strong>WTCH715-2080<br/><strong>Age/Year</strong>19/Freshman<br/><strong>Area of Study:</strong>History of Witchery<br/><strong>Date and Time:</strong>Tuesday, September 8th | High Noon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>On Campus Coffee Shop<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Nadine | Closed<br/><strong>Notes:</strong>Wearing a Chequered Dress (https://i.pinimg.com/236x/75/45/29/7545290c600dcc72fcdaafc582f86d6a.jpg), leggings, and a pair of knee-high boots.<br/><hr/>Helena's day had been relatively easy, all things considered. History lesson in the morning had woken her up considerably, but despite it all she was a creature that survived on Caffeine more than anything else. Potions were great, and all. They gave that kick of energy you needed in the morning, and she was adept enough using the Sorority's potion station now to basically brew a tea that had an extra kick of energy for a couple hours, but it was a thing of diminishing returns. Extra doses in a day did nothing but make her skin feel itchy, and that meant she needed a subsidisation of something a little stronger and more mundane. The magic of Coffee was her solution, and thankfully she was done for the day. Tuesdays were one of her two lighter days, and that meant after her morning class she was free to study, research, lounge about or - indeed - grab a cup of coffee from the University's only Coffee shop that wasn't awful.<br/><br/>She'd been standing in line for a few minutes, reading a book and keeping one ear stuffed with a headphone so she could listen to music. The slight sound of piano could be heard bleeding from the loose headphone that draped down her neck and chest, all while she browsed the book and waited for her to be called next in line. She was one of the unlucky few to come in at the backend of the lunch rush. She'd let her hair loose for the most part, its glossy length reaching near her spine's curve as she remained a little too oblivious of the outside world when...<br/><br/>..."<em><strong>Eeep!</strong></em>"<br/><br/>The surprised yelp of the darkly dressed student as she was bumped into would almost have sounded cute if it wasn't followed up by an annoyed scowl. The Englishwoman turned on her heel already speaking in an annoyed tone before she'd even finished spinning. "<strong>Hey, could you watch where you're go-oh-o...</strong>" Her words died in her throat as she looked up at Nadine, realising who had bumped into her and trying to stop herself from cashing in checks she couldn't able to afford. The Thaumaturgy teacher had a certain reputation about her that made the woman intimidating at best, and terrifying at worst. Students would rumour about the deadly woman's proclivity and talent for discipline, and how no one wanted to go back there twice once they were given the wrong type of attention from Madame Leveau. Equally, there was the other rumours that she was also an excellent source of knowledge, and a willing patron to the curious...and the brave. It was hard to tell which rumours were true or not, but that didn't stop Helena from assuming the worst...and that she'd somehow offended the woman before even properly meeting her. They may have had a class or two by now, it was hard to remember in the flurry of the first week, but suffice to say she didn't want to make a bad first impression. "<strong>I uh- Sorry for that. You...</strong>" She trailed off again, unsure what she was meant to be apologising for. She didn't think she'd done anything wrong and, in truth, she hadn't! "<strong>...You're Miss Nadine, right? The Thaumaturgy Instructor? I'm Helena. You've probably not noticed me yet, but I'm in a couple of your classes.</strong>" She did her best to brush over her honestly slapstick approach to an apology, mostly because it wasn't something she was really comfortable highlighting. She'd not done anything wrong, yet she was suddenly on the backfoot; Intimidated by this dangerous, beautiful, rumoured-to-be-deadly woman who loomed over the barely 5'5 Witch if not literally, then figuratively through accomplishment, deed, and status.