You're Going to be a Pain (Request to Join; Duke & Duchess - E)

Bentley seemed in a world his own, eyes fixed on the smouldering remains of the crystal as he quietly wrapped his hand again. "Well that was, uhm," Sabrina started, her eyes wide behind her glasses as she wrote incessantly on a small notepad. "I never believed such a reaction possible, but...you two are as compatible a pair as anyone I've ever seen."

The words didn't quite seem to register to him, but he looked back at her to confirm them nonetheless, confused as to the effects of the crystal. It seemed incredibly insane, incredibly impossible. "We're... compatible?" He reached a hand out, taking Bentley's, seeing no harm in it in any way, social norms somewhere beyond him. He channeled his wavelength, slowly phasing his arm into the chain of his weapon.

Bentley closed his eyes, allowing the tension to unravel from his muscles. He squeezed Marc's hand, channeling his own wavelength through it. This isn't nearly what I had expected synchronisation to feel like, Bentley noted to himself. It feels like his wavelength is literally moving through the veins of my arm. His eyes fluttered open, head turning slowly to see Marc. Despite himself, Bentley broke into a grin.

Marc's shockingly blue eyes seemed to match the natural hue of the element he favored, looking at him curiously, surprised. Idly, he tried to send a pulsewave through, finding the meister's resistance to be higher than normal, wavelength shifting effortlessly to match his own. "Well, shit." The "all-star" said, blinking and looking over at the instructor with a bit of a nervous, crooked smirk, "Forgive me, but... now what?"

"Well," Sabrina began, thumbing through her notebook hastily. "From here, your courses will undoubtedly change a fair bit. You'll need to set those up at the office within the next 24 hours. Beyond that, you are now open to the paired training facilities and the sparring arena."

Marc's eyes drifted back towards Bentley, and a slow, confident, steady smirk made it's way onto his face. "Ready, crackpot?"

Bentley laughed, looking around him. Eyes were fixated on them, eyes of meisters and weapons still waiting for the chance to be paired. Bentley had a faint stab of pity, but his own elation burned such notions into mental ashes. This was the next step towards everything he had planned. His laugh died away, setting into a thin smirk, nodding towards the door. "Let's get out of here, partner. We have work to do."

Marc laughed, nodding at this before stepping away to grab their bags. "Whatever you say, crackpot."

ooc:

Have you checked out the Legion's pages?

Bentley nodded appreciatively, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Where to next, then? We have options, but my course sheet is in my bag and that thing is a pit. Seriously, if you try to dig in there for a pencil, you might lose the hand in question."

ooc:

I've glossed over them, yes.

"Bag of holding gone wrong?" He asked, unashamed of his nerdiness, fishing through his bag for his course pamphlet ---- he might have been a little picky on course load. "What are you up to taking?"

ooc:

Thoughts? Opinions?

Bentley raised an eyebrow pointedly, scanning over Marc's sheet. "Truth be told, I had little interest in any of the courses for unpaired partners. I do have every intention of sticking with these, though. Resonance Training sounds good and we definitely need time in the gym and the ring."

ooc:

Break down the questions a bit more and I'll answer.

"You don't look like you have much trouble with working out." Marc said matter-of-factly, skimming. "We need to submit changes. What besides those?"

"We definitely need to stick with Soul Studies," Bentley noted, tapping at the paper. "Kishin History would be advisable, though I have yet to make it through a class without a nap." He smirked bashfully, tracing a finger along the edge of his headphones.

Marc's eyes rolled. "I record classes. You'll be fine." He offered a crooked smirk. "Besides, I can personally chain you up for misbehavior."

Bentley laughed despite himself. "Tempting as that may be," he mused, an eyebrow raising, "I already have my own chains." A smirk broke easily as he rounded on a heel, marching down the hallway. "Let's go, allstar. All this partnering has me craving a sandwich."

"You just ate, crackpot." He said, though the smirk had gone nowhere. "What do you aim to do, lead us to Deathbucks?"

"I eat my feelings," Bentley retorted. "I'm feeling happy, so I'll eat to that as well. You may need to order for me in Deathbucks, though. I'm still not allowed in after the incident with the cappuccino machine..."

Marc merely stopped, staring at Bentley, clearly not intending to move until answered.

Bentley eyed the floor in an obvious struggle over whether or not to elaborate. "I was just trying to get extra whipped cream in my drink," he shot. "I leaned over the counter to get some and I slipped. The rest of it is a haze of cream, scalding hot steam, and yelling." He kicked a discarded pencil, sending it spiraling down the hallway. "I don't see what the fuss is about," he admitted glumly. "The caramel smell is gone and the barista's hair has almost completely grown back."

Marc paused in silence, looking at him for a moment before snorting and shaking his head, leading them once more towards the admissions office, "Somehow, I still think this might actually manage to work out."

Bentley shuffled along beside him, grinning with a slightly embarrassed edge. "I'm certainly hoping so," he admitted. "Let's get to the office and sort these schedules out, yeah?"

The smirk widened and he looked over at him, deviance in his eyes. "Up for round two?"

Bentley's lips pursed in veiled anticipation, eyes flickering between Marc and the double doors at the far end of the hall. "You shouldn't be so eager to lose your lead, allstar. A challenge is a challenge, though."

"Lose?" He asked, smirking, transforming his right arm and winding his weighted end before tossing it almost casually into his right. "I never lose."

Bentley laughed aloud as he settled into a starting stance. "Just don't let the ball n' chain weigh you down," he replied with a smirk. "Count us down."