Bara Kami was not enjoying herself.
When Bara Kami had reached the Sorting, she had been silently congratulating herself on her most excellent timing – fashionably late, after all, took a good amount of skill if it was to occur with the proper flare worthy of the title “Mary Sue.”
A second later, she had walked through the doors and into a tidal wave. Of sorts.
Bara Kami didn’t wasn’t too fond of getting wet in her nice clothes, but then again, wet fabric had a tendency to cling to her in juuuust the right places, emphasizing her slender, supple figure as well as showing off her tip-top fighting condition.
Those thoughts were proccessed in an instant; in that instant, her body moved on its own, obedient to years of experience and training, and she automatically crouched and slide into the shadows, her hand already on the hilt of Celestial Fury.
And then she had seen the girl.
It had been the same little brat that had passed her in the hallway a little while before; she’d been sitting flat on her butt by the Sorting Hat, looking more than a little worse for wear.
Bara Kami concluded instantaneously that the mess was all HER fault – and no, of COURSE the several hundred glares levelled at the girl hadn’t had anything to do with that conclusion. Bara Kami was just incredibly intuitive that way.
Really.
Fighting down a scowl, Bara Kami dismissed the idea of a dramatic, pulse-pounding entrance worthy of a demi-goddess of Murder and slunk silently into the shadows. Besides, gliding in silently from the darkness into her place at the teacher’s table would be just as impressive – Bara Kami wasn’t too picky about that. And it really wasn’t because her entrance was already spoiled. Of course not. She could save it if she wanted to.
Naturally.
And so it was that she was currently located at the staff table as discreetly as a drow was able to, making sure to be seated near her nemesi–that is, her esteemed colleague, Priscillia Ichijouji.
Though she kept her attention primarily on the prof. with the bi-colored hair, Bara made certain to take in her fellow colleagues at the table with a discreet sweep of her eyes; she noted a drunk, some other un-noteworthy individuals, and whom she assumed to be the professor of DALA, a man she would have probably found attractive if she wasn’t so hell bent on Prof. Ichijouji’s livliho–er, that is, if she wasn’t so interested in the after-sorting going-ons.
At least she’d made it in before the headmistress.
” Dear Student’s, Welcome to another year at Sueworts. I can;t wait for you all to dry up and di… “
Annnd, there she was now.
Turning to Prof. Ichijouji, Bara put on her most charismatic smile (which, in her opinion, was pretty damn charismatic), and purred,
“So…interesting sorting, I take it