<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</span><br/><br/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;">Félicité wandered the halls leading from her office toward the Dinning Hall. She hadn’t slept well the night before and her grading this morning was going abysmally. If she had to look at one more paper that compared Charlemagne’s conquests to the way Justine Bieber had conquered the music industry and practically forged a whole new way of life, she was going to scream. And maybe stomp her foot. <em>Some</em>thing drastic at any rate!<br/><br/>A little moue of disgust curled her normally serene features as she slipped through the archway leading into the Dinning Hall. Instantly the smell of food and drink washed over her. Dosed liberally with the smell of a dozen different colognes and perfumes all competing for attention. <br/><br/>Félicité felt a small, uncontrollable sneeze leave her and quickly reached up to over her mouth. <em>Mon dieu.</em> One would think the Dinning Hall was a Hollywood night club or something the way people got all dressed up before coming in. She heaved a small sigh and stepped out of the flow of student bodies coming and going, her eyes drifting to the menu on the illuminated board hanging over the food service areas.<br/><br/>Nothing looked in the least appealing and Félicité was seriously beginning to rethink her decision to come to such a crowded area filled with the objects of her current disgust.<br/><br/>Tea. Perhaps a cup of tea would sooth her nerves. Rapid fire French flowed through her mind as she gave herself a firm talking too. She needed to be more charitable. Obviously some of these students had had miserably poor education in their past. They needed her. Her job was a higher calling really.<br/><br/>She’d almost talked herself out of her pique when the hairnetted woman behind the counter passed her tea over the little glass barrier used to protect the food. Félicité took the ugly, white, utilitarian cup and saucer in a dainty grip and brought it to her face. Although it was presented in ugly packaging, the tea appeared to have been steeped to perfection.  She still couldn't help wishing for the delicate china tea set settled back in her rooms. <br/><br/>The warm steam and familiar odor rising from the cup made her smile her thanks at the dower looking woman before turning to find herself a table. She lurched in surprise, muttering a choice phrase under her breath in French at the sound of her name being yelled across the room as she did so.<br/><br/>With a deep breath she carefully arranged her features into a pleasantly vague smile of inquiry and turned toward the direction from which the shout had come. It took her beleaguered brain a moment to cough up the fact that the voice had yelled “Léa." Not many, if any, at Jamison had cause to be close enough to her to use her nickname as yet. <br/><br/>Peering through the crowd, her eyes widened as she saw a familiar face that was unexpected but not unpleasantly so. A genuine smile curled her lips. One that was much warmer than anything she’d managed that morning as Shane approached.<br/><br/>As the girl enfolded her in her arms, Félicité carefully balanced her cup of tea out and away from their bodies to avoid any spills. The other arm she curled in around Shane in a tight embrace.<br/><br/>"Shane!" she greeted with surprise and pleasure.<br/><br/>Félicité gave two delicate air kisses on either side of the girl’s cheeks as she pulled back.<br/><br/>“What a surprise! I didn’t know you had come to Jamison.” A little flash of concern skated across her features at the sight of the girl. Félicité did not think JCPA would be a happy move for the young woman. The rules here were strict and Shane did not enjoy adhering to <em>any</em> sort of rules. <br/><br/>She pushed her concerns to the back of her mind, a small, tinkling laugh escaping her lips.<br/><br/>“Alas non. I am not here to 'spring you.' I am teaching history here now.”<br/><br/>Sliding one arm around the girl’s back, she pulled Shane to her side then started them both forward toward a table so she could set down her drink and catch up with the girl.<br/><br/>“But tell me, when did you transfer to Jamison? I did not realize you had left your former school.”</span><br/>