Angie, the friendly face of the Montréal enclave, is keeping an eye out for interesting looking people to invite on a supply run.
Alexei slips their shield bracelet around his wrist for now, and sets to circling the group with a focus on the back, if Alexius is planning to take point.
Tomonori will focus on his list and look for mals.
He will only see a mal if it is within visual range so it's not that helpful.
Alexius puts on the bracelet, makes sure no one is listening who doesn't want to be, and recites a poem in Latin. There's a faint shimmer around him, indeed looking a bit like a wetsuit, and he grins. "Oh this is nice. I can be the first one to open toolboxes and such. Combat folks, please blast anything that tries to nom me. I'm decent at close combat but more defensively oriented than offensively. I believe the hip young video gamers call this strategy tank-and-spank."
Onward.
(Sara, the Montréal junior, takes whatever side Alexei is neglecting, along with occasional double-checks - she has more experience, after all.)
Well, if they're all going to be so nice about it Nia is happy to take the middle and watch the ceiling.
Miguel has no idea how to talk to people and he's starting to get the sense that's going to be debilitating, here. But he makes himself follow along. Maybe no one will challenge him on this?
"If you want to join, walk a little closer, think of what you want to find, and I'll add you to my spell."
Oh good that's a better outcome than expected. She's pretty and friendly and doesn't look like she's stunningly rich and has been her entire life, which a lot of the kids do. Is that a standard English greeting or is she not a native English speaker either? There are black people in America. Is she even black or is she Indian - "Nice to meet you to," he says, before he can further overthink this.
"Uh, yeah," he says to the other guy, even though he's not sure what spell that is or if it's a good idea. He'd like to find.... canned food? That trades well at home. He doesn't know what trades well here.
"I think we agreed to look for school supplies first," Angie tells him as he moves in closer. "Zed knows the way, but they also have a spell to point us to the best supply room. Hopefully one that hasn't been overpillaged..." On the first day, with a group this size, that should be safe enough.
Here, paper paper paper. Some cardstock and Sharpies would be nice, too, for signs and making his own cards. Check for mals, check for mals, check for mals, knife scuttling thing before it bites his ankle. Envelope shield is nice but no sense being wasteful.
Here, paper paper paper.
Paper! Pens! Binders? Highlighters.
Tomonori meditates on school supplies, since that's supposed to help with the spell.
Down the stairs they go at Zed's heels, vigilant for mals and thinking about the supplies they hope to find.
(Sara gets to demonstrate the value of having an upperclassman along when she zaps a couple mals before anyone else sees them, though they probably would have caught them before anyone had actually been hurt)
"What's your track, Miguel?" Angie asks at a quiet point, "I'm Angie, from Montréal, mine's artificing, my brother who's circling us is Alex, in creative writing."
(Zed begins the spell in their mother's language, Swati, only absently paying attention to where they're going and their surroundings. They have to rely on everyone else for this, putting all their attention into the spell.)
Alexius does his best to be in the way of anything that might jump at Zed.
It doesn't take too long to arrive at the first stairwell leading down to the language lab and storeroom level. But it doesn't feel quite right. It's the third stairwell, after a bit of a trudge and a detour near the back of Maleficaria Studies that wasn't strictly necessary, that seems most promising to Zed's magic. There are only two small mals hiding out there, easily dispatched with this many people on watch.
Descending is easy enough, but third floor landing is...dark.
...Alexei draws a little from his power-sharer and murmurs something in near-silent French, producing a little orb of fire that brightens the hall.
"Not sure I like this," he states, for the record.