Pisa's enclave is small enough they are all related, and if you ask any wizard in Europe, they will tell you Pisa's blood runs thick, and nasty. Not a single one of them enters the Scholomance without the jet-black nails of a maleficer, and they don't hide it. There's a rumor that London gives them all the slots they need unchallenged because all the other small enclaves are afraid of the retribution if they don't, and whose kids will get malia-ripped to make room. They are maleficers, out and proud, avoiding the hollowing every human-killing maleficer faces by means which are a closely-guarded secret and possibly only work for their bloodline, and Teresa is cut from the same pale cloth as her clan.
They do not, however, routinely kill at school - at least, not anywhere, or any time, that they can be caught at it. The Calloconti are not to be messed with, and everyone can see it, but it's not worth making the number of enemies they'd accumulate if they followed through on the implicit threat for anything less than a major provocation. For normal times, they coordinate to have at least one kid every year, usually two or three, and they have three enchanted terrariums passed down; frogs, flies, and snakes, all brought in as eggs. Once or twice a generation, someone trades favors within the family and takes a snake a familiar, but usually they kill them when they need a substantial boost of malia and throw the body in for the flies.
Teresa has letters, and eggs, and all the usual, clothes and spellbook and healing and mana storage - they use gems, expensive and tricky to prepare but quite weight-efficient - and the other tools of a well-off enclaver. She's thin and hasn't hit her growth spurt, both of which the family has probably bred for on purpose, so she can carry plenty. Her second cousin Marino is starting as well, and has much the same. Her great-uncle took her aside a month ago and warned that Marino has no patience, despite his parent's best efforts, and he thinks the boy will probably start to use other students for malia, either this first year or early in the next. She grimaced with distaste, and Uncle smiled and instructed her that if he was caught, or running stupid risks likely to get him caught, she should deal with him herself, preferably swiftly and publicly to secure her reputation. She nodded resolutely, and he grinned and showed her a handful of useful trinkets which would tell her approximately which direction the other wearers were, and particularly the one of the set whose detection was shoddy, which he promised to Marino. Both of the scions are wearing theirs on their lapels, and have the extras in their bags, to offer to others making lesser alliances early on. It is a good excuse, and no one refuses Uncle's favors if they know what's good for them.
Teresa is poised and calm and well-versed in Italian, English, Mandarin, Latin, Arabic, Ancient Greek and Modern, Romanian, and Etruscan. She knows for a fact that Marino didn't manage to start Arabic, he did French instead of Romanian because he thought it was easier, and that his Ancient Greek is shit. She wasn't terribly surprised at Uncle's lack of confidence.
They wake up at dawn and the family all meet in Uncle's parlor for their goodbyes, and then it is off into the clockwork jungle for the next four years.
She stumbles as she lands in her room, and feels nauseous, and pulls the drugged rat off the top of her bag as she recovers. She goes to the hall, looks back at her room and scribbles the number on her bag, and rips the malia straight out of the rat, in plain view of the hallway. It steadies her, and she's off to the cafeteria.
Pisa's enclave is small enough they are all related, and if you ask any wizard in Europe, they will tell you Pisa's blood runs thick and nasty. Not a single one of them enters the Scholomance without the jet-black nails of a maleficer, and they don't hide it. There's a rumor that London gives them all the slots they need unchallenged because all the other small enclaves are afraid of the retribution if they don't, and whose kids will get malia-ripped to make room. They are maleficers, out and proud, avoiding the hollowing every human-killing maleficer faces by means which are a closely-guarded secret and possibly only work for their bloodline, and Teresa is cut from the same pale cloth as her clan.
They do not, however, routinely kill at school - at least, not anywhere, or any time, that they can be caught at it. The Calloconti are not to be messed with, and everyone can see it, but it's not worth making the number of enemies they'd accumulate if they followed through on the implicit threat for anything less than a major provocation. For normal times, they coordinate to have at least one kid every year, usually two or three, and they have three enchanted terrariums passed down; frogs, flies, and snakes, all brought in as eggs. Once or twice a generation, someone trades favors within the family and takes a snake a familiar, but usually they kill them when they need a substantial boost of malia and throw the body in for the flies.
Teresa has letters, and eggs, and all the usual, clothes and spellbook and healing and mana storage - they use gems, expensive and tricky to prepare but quite weight-efficient - and the other tools of a well-off enclaver, sparing a little for makeup because she knows the power of appearances. She's thin and hasn't hit her growth spurt, both of which the family has probably bred for on purpose, so she can carry plenty. Her second cousin Marino is starting as well, and has much the same. Her great-uncle took her aside a month ago and warned that Marino has no patience, despite his parent's best efforts, and he thinks the boy will probably start to use other students for malia, either this first year or early in the next. She grimaced with distaste, and Uncle smiled and instructed her that if he was caught, or running stupid risks likely to get him caught, she should deal with him herself, preferably swiftly and publicly to secure her reputation. She nodded resolutely, and he grinned and showed her a handful of useful trinkets which would tell her approximately which direction the other wearers were, and particularly the one of the set whose detection was shoddy, which he promised to Marino. Both of the scions are wearing theirs on their lapels, and have the extras in their bags, to offer to others making lesser alliances early on. It is a good excuse, and no one refuses Uncle's favors if they know what's good for them.
Teresa is poised and calm and well-versed in Italian, English, Mandarin, Latin, Arabic, Ancient Greek and Modern, Romanian, and Etruscan. She knows for a fact that Marino didn't manage to start Arabic, he did French instead of Romanian because he thought it was easier, and that his Ancient Greek is shit. She wasn't terribly surprised at Uncle's lack of confidence.
They wake up at dawn and the family all meet in Uncle's parlor for their goodbyes, and then it is off into the clockwork jungle for the next four years.
She stumbles as she lands in her room, and feels nauseous, and pulls the drugged rat off the top of her bag as she recovers. She goes to the hall, looks back at her room and scribbles the number on her bag, and rips the malia straight out of the rat, in plain view of the hallway. It steadies her, and she's off to the cafeteria.
Pisa's enclave is small enough they are all related, and if you ask any wizard in Europe, they will tell you Pisa's blood runs thick and nasty. Not a single one of them enters the Scholomance without the jet-black nails of a maleficer, and they don't hide it. There's a rumor that London gives them all the slots they need unchallenged because all the other small enclaves are afraid of the retribution if they don't, and whose kids will get malia-ripped to make room. They are maleficers, out and proud, avoiding the hollowing every human-killing maleficer faces by means which are a closely-guarded secret and possibly only work for their bloodline, and Teresa is cut from the same pale cloth as her clan.
They do not, however, routinely kill at school - at least, not anywhere, or any time, that they can be caught at it. The Calloconti are not to be messed with, and everyone can see it, but it's not worth making the number of enemies they'd accumulate if they followed through on the implicit threat for anything less than a major provocation. For normal times, they coordinate to have at least one kid every year, usually two or three, and they have three enchanted terrariums passed down; frogs, flies, and snakes, all brought in as eggs. Once or twice a generation, someone trades favors within the family and takes a snake a familiar, but usually they kill them when they need a substantial boost of malia and throw the body in for the flies.
Teresa has letters, and eggs, and all the usual, clothes and spellbook and healing and mana storage - they use gems, expensive and tricky to prepare but quite weight-efficient - and the other tools of a well-off enclaver, sparing a little for makeup because she knows the power of appearances. She's thin and hasn't hit her growth spurt, both of which the family has probably bred for on purpose, so she can carry plenty. Her second cousin Marino is starting as well, and has much the same. Her great-uncle took her aside a month ago and warned that Marino has no patience, despite his parent's best efforts, and he thinks the boy will probably start to use other students for malia, either this first year or early in the next. She grimaced with distaste, and Uncle smiled and instructed her that if he was caught, or running stupid risks likely to get him caught, she should deal with him herself, preferably swiftly and publicly to secure her reputation. She nodded resolutely, and he grinned and showed her a handful of useful trinkets which would tell her approximately which direction the other wearers were, and particularly the one of the set whose detection was shoddy, which he promised to Marino. Both of the scions are wearing theirs on their lapels, and have the extras in their bags, to offer to others making lesser alliances early on. It is a good excuse, and no one refuses Uncle's favors if they know what's good for them.
Teresa is poised and calm and well-versed in Italian, English, Mandarin, Latin, Arabic, Ancient Greek and Modern, Romanian, and Etruscan. She knows for a fact that Marino didn't manage to start Arabic, he did French instead of Romanian because he thought it was easier, and his Ancient Greek is shit. She wasn't terribly surprised at Uncle's lack of confidence.
They wake up at dawn and the family all meet in Uncle's parlor for their goodbyes, and then it is off into the clockwork jungle for the next four years.
She stumbles as she lands in her room, and feels nauseous, and pulls the drugged rat off the top of her bag as she recovers. She goes to the hall, looks back at her room and scribbles the number on her bag, and rips the malia straight out of the rat, in plain view of the hallway. It steadies her, and she's off to the cafeteria.
Pisa's enclave is small enough they are all related, and if you ask any wizard in Europe, they will tell you Pisa's blood runs thick and nasty. Not a single one of them enters the Scholomance without the jet-black nails of a maleficer, and they don't hide it. There's a rumor that London gives them all the slots they need unchallenged because all the other small enclaves are afraid of the retribution if they don't, and whose kids will get malia-ripped to make room. They are maleficers, out and proud, avoiding the hollowing every human-killing maleficer faces by means which are a closely-guarded secret and possibly only work for their bloodline, and Teresa is cut from the same pale cloth as her clan.
They do not, however, routinely kill at school - at least, not anywhere, or any time, that they can be caught at it. The Calloconti are not to be messed with, and everyone can see it, but it's not worth making the number of enemies they'd accumulate if they followed through on the implicit threat for anything less than a major provocation. For normal times, they coordinate to have at least one kid every year, usually two or three, and they have three enchanted terrariums passed down; frogs, flies, and snakes, all brought in as eggs. Once or twice a generation, someone trades favors within the family and takes a snake a familiar, but usually they kill them when they need a substantial boost of malia and throw the body in for the flies.
Teresa has letters, and eggs, and all the usual, clothes and spellbook and healing and mana storage - they use gems, expensive and tricky to prepare but quite weight-efficient - and the other tools of a well-off enclaver, sparing a little for makeup because she knows the power of appearances. She's thin and hasn't hit her growth spurt, both of which the family has probably bred for on purpose, so she can carry plenty. Her second cousin Marino is starting as well, and has much the same. Her great-uncle took her aside a month ago and warned that Marino has no patience, despite his parent's best efforts, and he thinks the boy will probably start to use other students for malia either this first year or early in the next. She grimaced with distaste, and Uncle smiled and instructed her that if he was caught, or running stupid risks likely to get him caught, she should deal with him herself, preferably swiftly and publicly to secure her reputation. She nodded resolutely, and he grinned and showed her a handful of useful trinkets which would tell her approximately which direction the other wearers were, and particularly the one of the set whose detection was shoddy, which he promised to Marino. Both of the scions are wearing theirs on their lapels, and have the extras in their bags, to offer to others making lesser alliances early on. It is a good excuse, and no one refuses Uncle's favors if they know what's good for them.
Teresa is poised and calm and well-versed in Italian, English, Mandarin, Latin, Arabic, Ancient Greek and Modern, Romanian, and Etruscan. She knows for a fact that Marino didn't manage to start Arabic, he did French instead of Romanian because he thought it was easier, and his Ancient Greek is shit. She wasn't terribly surprised at Uncle's lack of confidence.
They wake up at dawn and the family all meet in Uncle's parlor for their goodbyes, and then it is off into the clockwork jungle for the next four years.
She stumbles as she lands in her room, and feels nauseous, and pulls the drugged rat off the top of her bag as she recovers. She goes to the hall, looks back at her room and scribbles the number on her bag, and rips the malia straight out of the rat, in plain view of the hallway. It steadies her, and she's off to the cafeteria.
Pisa's enclave is small enough they are all related, and if you ask any wizard in Europe, they will tell you Pisa's blood runs thick and nasty. Not a single one of them enters the Scholomance without the jet-black nails of a maleficer, and they don't hide it. There's a rumor that London gives them all the slots they need unchallenged because all the other small enclaves are afraid of the retribution if they don't, and whose kids will get malia-ripped to make room. They are maleficers, out and proud, avoiding the hollowing every human-killing maleficer faces by means which are a closely-guarded secret and possibly only work for their bloodline, and Teresa is cut from the same pale cloth as her clan.
They do not, however, routinely kill at school - at least, not anywhere, or any time, that they can be caught at it. The Calloconti are not to be messed with, and everyone can see it, but it's not worth making the number of enemies they'd accumulate if they followed through on the implicit threat for anything less than a major provocation. For normal times, they coordinate to have at least one kid every year, usually two or three, and they have three enchanted terrariums passed down; frogs, flies, and snakes, all brought in as eggs. Once or twice a generation, someone trades favors within the family and takes a snake a familiar, but usually they kill them when they need a substantial boost of malia and throw the body in for the flies.
Teresa has letters, and eggs, and all the usual, clothes and spellbook and healing and mana storage - they use gems, expensive and tricky to prepare but quite weight-efficient - and the other tools of a well-off enclaver, sparing a little for makeup because she knows the power of appearances. She's thin and hasn't hit her growth spurt, both of which the family has probably bred for on purpose, so she can carry plenty. Her second cousin Marino is starting as well, and has much the same. Her great-uncle took her aside a month ago and warned that Marino has no patience, despite his parent's best efforts, and he thinks the boy will probably start to use other students for malia either this first year or early in the next. She grimaced with distaste, and Uncle smiled and instructed her that if he was caught, or running stupid risks likely to get him caught, she should deal with him herself, preferably swiftly and publicly to secure her reputation. She nodded resolutely, and he grinned and showed her a handful of useful trinkets which would tell her approximately which direction the other wearers were, and particularly the one of the set whose detection was shoddy, which he promised to Marino. Both of the scions are wearing theirs on their lapels, and have the extras in their bags, to offer to others making lesser alliances early on. It is a good excuse, and no one refuses Uncle's favors if they know what's good for them.
Teresa is poised and calm and well-versed in Italian, English, Mandarin, Latin, Arabic, Ancient Greek and Modern, Romanian, and Etruscan. She knows for a fact that Marino didn't manage to start Arabic, he did French instead of Romanian because he thought it was easier, and his Ancient Greek is shit. She wasn't terribly surprised at Uncle's lack of confidence.
They wake up at dawn and the family all meet in Uncle's parlor for their goodbyes, and then it is off into the clockwork jungle for the next four years.
Pisa's enclave is small enough they are all related, and if you ask any wizard in Europe, they will tell you Pisa's blood runs thick and nasty. Not a single one of them enters the Scholomance without the jet-black nails of a maleficer, and they don't hide it. There's a rumor that London gives them all the slots they need unchallenged because all the other small enclaves are afraid of the retribution if they don't, and whose kids will get malia-ripped to make room. They are maleficers, out and proud, avoiding the hollowing every human-killing maleficer faces by means which are a closely-guarded secret and possibly only work for their bloodline, and Teresa is cut from the same pale cloth as her clan.
They do not, however, routinely kill at school - at least, not anywhere, or any time, that they can be caught at it. The Calloconti are not to be messed with, and everyone can see it, but it's not worth making the number of enemies they'd accumulate if they followed through on the implicit threat for anything less than a major provocation. For normal times, they coordinate to have at least one kid every year, usually two or three, and they have three enchanted terrariums passed down; frogs, flies, and snakes, all brought in as eggs. Once or twice a generation, someone trades favors within the family and takes a snake a familiar, but usually they kill them when they need a substantial boost of malia and throw the body in for the flies.
Teresa has letters, and eggs, and all the usual, clothes and spellbook and healing and mana storage - weighs about triple the equivalent in Radiant Mind crystals, but it will tolerate malia - and the other tools of a well-off enclaver, sparing a little for makeup because she knows the power of appearances. She's thin and hasn't hit her growth spurt, both of which the family has probably bred for on purpose, so she can carry plenty. Her second cousin Marino is starting as well, and has much the same. Her great-uncle took her aside a month ago and warned that Marino has no patience, despite his parents's best efforts, and he thinks the boy will probably start to use other students for malia either this first year or early in the next. She grimaced with distaste, and Uncle smiled and instructed her that if he was caught, or running stupid risks likely to get him caught, she should deal with him herself, preferably swiftly and publicly to secure her reputation. She nodded resolutely, and he grinned and showed her a handful of useful trinkets which would tell her approximately which direction the other wearers were, and particularly the one of the set whose detection was shoddy, which he promised to Marino. Both of the scions are wearing theirs on their lapels, and have the extras in their bags, to offer to others making lesser alliances early on. It is a good excuse, and no one refuses Uncle's favors if they know what's good for them.
Teresa is poised and calm and well-versed in Italian, English, Mandarin, Latin, Arabic, Ancient Greek and Modern, Romanian, and Etruscan. She knows for a fact that Marino didn't manage to start Arabic, he did French instead of Romanian because he thought it was easier, and his Ancient Greek is shit. She wasn't terribly surprised at Uncle's lack of confidence.
They wake up at dawn and the family all meet in Uncle's parlor for their goodbyes, and then it is off into the clockwork jungle for the next four years.
