Rebecca swears fluently in a long dead language, being careful to calm down a bit before taking the pack of cigarettes... wouldn't do to offer one to someone and give them a raging infection. She sighs, standing up and pocketing them, her grey eyes cold as steel as she sweeps from the class, heading straight for the ladies room to wash her face, looking at her reflection and letting out a vague curse in Coptic about someone's mother being of a loose persuasion as she notices her ashy grey hair has gone a few shades darker.<br/><br/>"Stupid pestilence..." She mutters, clenching her fist and speaking a calming mantra from ages past. She sighs softly, cursing the cocky demon with an ancient... if somewhat useless... voodoo curse. She stares at the mirror, as if willing her hair to go back.