vcleriies:
watching the girl’s anger seemingly melt away as the professor spoke to her, laced with what he’s sure is fucking magic and he sighs. there goes his fun, then; he’s pulling his legs up under him in some sort of criss-cross perched carefully atop the desk, and watching the professor lead her out, disappointment causing him to huff quietly. she was fun, all boiling anxiety over what her parents would say and her grades, a special kind of high-functioning self destructive that would never stop being amusing to break.
ciaran’s mostly upset that he didn’t get the chance to see what happens when the smoke bombs were set up, and when he watched the other – fae, maybe, he could feel the hum of magic, – waiting to see what would happen. instead of answering, ciaran glanced at the pile closest to the professor’s keyboard and nudged forward with magic to scatter it all over his main workspace in answer.
the man knows where he is, and if he’s right about the spells he’s used (which he might not be, seeing as the spell is much older than him and it’s been years since he’s used much more than the odd bladder-be-full boredom spell on a randoms) then ciaran’s not going anywhere any time soon – so he lifts the cup and sucks at the iced macciato. he’s invisible for shits and giggles at this point, maybe.
“bossy.” ciaran observes, his voice quiet and nonchalant, even though he had a damn right to be; he likes ruffling feathers even if it’s for a split second. he eyes the professor, unsure if he’s impressed or not. curious, most definitely; he has a feeling he OUGHT to be impressed with the ease of magic & the fact that ciaran is, for lack of a better plan, trapped until the other man becomes bored with him. he glances around for clues about the person’s identity, making that loud & unfavorable noise of straw-against-ice once more.
a psychology teacher, probably, with the books piled around the office; academics were boring, and ciaran had never had the head for sciences, even when science was barely understood in comparison to the modern day. there’s not much else he can do from his perch, so he sets down the cup of ice and crosses his arms, resisting the urge to give in and banter. he’s not necessarily outright BORED, just… playing.
so a fae, then, he decides, judging by how the other person in the room simply scattered a pile of glitter all over his main workspace. amusing, but it won’t be when wei’s going to have to take it out. perhaps he could just magic it out, but he isn’t sure how he’ll manage that, in all honesty. he heads further into his office, placing his bag one of the empty sofas, before taking a seat next, making himself comfortable.
there hasn’t been much sound, so wei’s assuming that the other fae hasn’t moved. it’s only moments after this thought that they pick up their drink and slurp on it, noisily. they finally speak, and wei is pleased to confirm that it is indeed a male who’s made himself at home in his office. his eyes narrow in irritation as the fae, very, very likely to be an unseelie, continues to be noisy.
the now empty cup’s placed back down, and wei leans back, observing the area where he assumes the fae’s sitting. “considering it’s my office, i can be, don’t you think?” he asks, leaning back on the sofa.














