Scorpius and Yvette continue to be in the Scholomance
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The Scholomance really, really hates it when kids room together.

It's an incentives thing. Outcasts and other socially-disadvantaged kids already have a harder time surviving at all than popular kids, enclavers and the like. If you start letting people room together, that's yet another way in which they get fucked over: all of the kids with a choice are going to room together, in threes and fours, cramped sure but still better for their survival than being alone, they can sleep in shifts and keep any mals out and that's a straight-up improvement over regular shields. Meanwhile the kids who don't have such social capital are going to stay alone, and be disproportionately targeted by everything that goes bump in the night. Spreading targets evenly is better for survival, and the Scholomance is playing nothing but a numbers game.

There's also graduation. The entire senior hall gets shuffled as the whole school spirals its floors down one level every year, and then it's locked out of access to the rest of the school and the only way they can go is down: to the graduation hall, where they have to run past the hordes of maleficaria that await. If seniors could just go to the freshmen's rooms that night, free of consequences, and not be forced to graduate, they would. One more year in the Scholomance means one more year to learn more spells, get more well-prepared, be more likely to survive out there. But there are not enough resources for that, not enough food and supplies. Everything is budgeted tightly, and having five rather than four cohorts of students in the school at the same time is just infeasible.

So it's for these and other similar reasons that the Scholomance really, really hates it when kids room together. Each student gets one room, full stop, and they have to be in said room from curfew start to curfew end. And what happens to students who flaunt this rule and decide to try to spend a night together anyway is they become a cautionary tale. When you get in at induction and the sophomores and juniors and seniors tell you all of the horror stories, that's typically enough to scare most kids straight. Not all, though, and every year you have a few hapless souls who decide to try it anyway. Their screams echo in the night as they bang on their colleagues' doors, asking for help, any help, until they are caught and dragged away by the maleficaria that the school has specifically sent their way, killed and eaten or perhaps just eaten without being killed first, depending on which level of bad luck they have on their last day of life.

Of course, these kinds of rules don't really apply very thoroughly when Scorpius Lake is involved. Not that the school isn't sending mal after mal his way, weakening its own wards just to make sure these kids learn in the most permanent way how bad an idea it is to spend the night together. It does that, with a vengeance. Mal after mal is broken against the shield of Lake's resolve, and more pragmatically the actual magical shields he has to renew every now and then. Yvette Villeneuve sleeps, perhaps not very peacefully, but at all, needing all the energy she can get to heal from the stab wound she got from Jack Westing last night. Scorpius wouldn't let her spend the night alone, not with said recent stab wound, not when she was about to be assailed by mals all night long anyway—they can smell the blood in the water, so to speak, and she would be low-hanging fruit. If mals are coming for her anyway, Scorpius reasoned, he might as well spend the night there and keep her from dying. Mal after mal, all night long, being killed and destroyed and pulled apart, each death fueling Scorpius's next spell, systematically and thoroughly.

By the last couple of hours of curfew, most mals who would come have come, and he gets stretches of even up to half an hour to rest. Not that he can sleep, obviously, not if he wants to stay alive, but he can at least sit and wait a bit, breathe more calmly. And as soon as the first bell rings in the morning, he flops onto the ground and breathes a sigh of relief. It's... over, finally.

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Yvette has been in and out of consciousness, occasionally waking up to blast any mal that offends her, and offer words of.... encouragement...? They're mostly phrased as criticisms and insults, but there is a level of affection to the tone. Less bite, maybe.

"Good morning, sunshine," she says wryly, sitting up with a bit of a wince. "I see my room is mostly intact! Well done."

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"Thank you, although," he gestures at the door—it is still attached to its hinges, mostly, but the recently-replaced lock is definitely a goner, and it's hanging open. "Sorry, a kvenlik came over and very vehemently refused to get stabbed by your door wards, I had to dismember it."

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She gives a heavy sigh, and then (painfully) stands to go croon at her door.

"My poor porte. I'm sorry I didn't listen well enough when you warned me. This is my fault, not yours," she says, patting it. "You are a good and loyal door and did nothing wrong."

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"You're nicer to that door than to anyone else," Scorpius grumbles, but if a grumble can sound affectionate his does.

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"Nonsense! I'm perfectly nice to Yi Liu."

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"It's really hard to not be nice to Yi Liu, she has one of those faces."

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"You'd think! And yet," sighs Yvette, sad. She gets to putting various defensive spells on her things, because once again! She's lacking a lock on her door. (Her poor door.)

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And that's long enough for it to be the Russians' wake-up time...

And Alexei is right next door and sees her door and can't help but notice the evidence of the overnight fight and Scorpius Lake is standing right there and uh.

Uh?????

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"Morning, Yahontov!" He sticks his head out to raise a hand in greeting to the other two Russian juniors. "Levitskaya, Artyomova," he says in a greeting.

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Oh, hell. She might as well play into this ridiculous situation. At least this way the rumors will be entertaining.

"Good morning!" she calls, poking her head out behind him. "Westing's dead, he snapped and tried to murder me. And this one," she motions to Scorpius, "got my door broken again. Are you willing to fix it this time, Alexei, if I get you materials and payment?"

Alexei is an artificer, and would frankly do a better job than she.

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    "He what," asks Sofia.

"Westing killed Luisa," and she and Nat draw in a breath at the same time at the, "and I told him he had to toe the line or else. He decided to go for the 'else'."

    "...but. He. She?" She turns to Yvette. "You?"

"Yvette's not a maleficer," says Scorpius for what must be the hundredth time, "Westing was."

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Alexei takes a few seconds to process this but then, "What is it worth to you?" he asks Yvette.

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"I'll let you have the drill for it and four new Sanguine Blossom crystals."

She expects him to haggle down to three. To neatly replace the ones that have been broken by Scorpius.

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"—you give me drill. And I fix your door and make you three crystals?"

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"Fiiiine," she agrees, a little amused. "And I play fetch for all materials involved, including the irritating bleeding bits. Deal?"

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"Deal," he says, nodding. "Breakfast?"

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"Go on ahead, I need to change."

Her dress might be black, but the hole and bloodstains are probably a bit much. She would like to change. And generally clean up and refresh herself and whatnot.

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He hums, looks at Lake, looks at Sofia and Natalya and—

    "We can wait," says Natalya.

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Gee, how thoughtful.

"Your consideration is appreciated." She makes a shooing motion with her hand, at Scorpius. "Oh Scorpius! I think a bathroom trip is in your future! Might as well use the time wisely, no? One does not rush a lady when she's getting ready."

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Scorpius rolls his eyes but shrugs. "Fine, fine, whatever you say."

The Russians get a Scorpius Lake-shaped escort to the bathroom, then, which in their opinion is a great idea. Just Lake, no Villain, that's great in their opinion.

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(Maybe not all of their opinions.)

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Alexei is a sweetie, much as he feigns business-like detachment. And lack of fluency in English.

(Damn, that was another tell that it wasn't him, wasn't it? She'd been too out of it to even notice. Why would Alexei speak to her in English? No matter, Westing is dead now.)

"I'll get you the drill now so nobody steals the thing while my poor door's under the weather, hm?" offers Yvette, to Alexei.

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"I'll grab it when we come back," he says, because they are coming back.

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"Fine, fine. Now shoo, or we'll lose our chance of getting a decent table."

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They shoo, and as soon as they're out far enough the girls are asking about every detail on what the hell happened last night.

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