<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.bleedingcool.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/lea-seydoux-.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><strong>Name:</strong> Félicité Mercier<br/><strong>Age:</strong> 30<br/><strong>Status:</strong> Professor of History JCPA<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Great Hall Dinning Room <br/><strong>Date &amp; Time:</strong> September 27th | 11:23 AM<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Shane Harris from <strong><span class="bbc_u">HERE</span></strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=246262.msg12187024#msg12187024)</span><br/><br/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"> Félicité felt the conversation move stiffly from there. Their words were stilted and careful. Both aware of the people flowing around them. No more than a few minutes later, Shane popped to her feet. Félicité looked up at her, expression pleasantly vague to any who happened to be watching them. <em>Nothing untoward going on here</em> it seemed to say. <em>Just a professor expressing an appropriate amount of professional interest in one of her students.</em><br/><br/>When Shane leaned in to buzz her cheek and whisper, Félicité’s eyes quickly darted around the room and her smile became visibly forced. Shane shouldn’t take such chances. At a place like this, their positions could be precarious. <em>Both</em> their positions. And she knew she really should at least <em>try</em> and make an effort to coax Shane into acting the part so she could escape the madness that was Jamison Clarke Preparatory Academy.<br/><br/>Wrapped up in her thoughts, the girl was gone before Félicité had a chance to say even a word. <br/><br/>Now left to her own devices, Félicité looked down at her considerably cooler tea in contemplation. She was almost certain that it stated in the code of conduct somewhere that students were not allowed to fraternize with professors in their personal apartments. She almost regretted making the offer but somehow couldn’t bring herself to want to take the words back.<br/><br/>The girl needed….<em>someone</em> to be on her side. With a sigh, Félicité lifted the cup of tepid tea to her lips and took a small sip. A grimace curled her features almost immediately. It was no longer drinkable.<br/><br/>With a little disparaging shake of her head, Félicité lifted the cup and pushed to her feet. Automatically her hands smoothed the back of her skirt as she stood. Then she proceeded to the trash receptacle where she dumped the now ruined tea. With a quiet <em>clink</em> she settled the ugly, utilitarian china cup and saucer on the little shelf above the trash for such purposes and then headed sedately out of the Dinning Hall.<br/><br/>It wasn’t until she made it all the way back to her office that she realized that she couldn’t text Shane her apartment number. She no longer had the girl’s number in the shiny new phone she’d activated when she’d moved to Richmond.<br/><br/>Oh dear.</span><br/>