Bake the World a Better Place Open

September 5th, 2021

Lavinia couldn’t sleep. It had been like this for the last few nights in her new dorm. She would lay down in bed but was unable to fall asleep and even if she did, she would wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. It was because now that she was back at school, guilt was starting to tear her apart from the events of the summer. Seeing her classmates was a constant reminder about how she failed them and at nighttime the memories came back.

This night was no different, when she went down the sleep, the memories taunted her, not letting her fall asleep. Deciding to get out of bed to clear her head, Lavinia put on her slippers, tugged on her quidditch jumper, and quietly excited the dorm. Before exiting the common room, Lavinia thought about what she was going to do. She had gotten detention before for being outside her dorm during the night and that was exactly what she was about to do again. Convincing herself that she wouldn’t get caught, Lavinia sneakily headed out of the dorm.

Letting her feet take her wherever they pleased, Lavinia found herself heading in the direction of the kitchen. She had never been there before but it was a place that she always wanted to go. Staying alert, Lavinia told herself that this snack in the middle of the night would help her fall asleep. Or at least give her a nice change of scenery.

Upon more thought, Lavinia decided that she was headed for something like milk and cookies because she had been told that it always helped. Finding her way to the kitchens door, Lavinia hoped no house elf was already working in there as she opened the door. The sight that greeted her was much different. Someone else was in here and it was obvious from the attire that it was an adult.

Lavinia was done for. Staring in shock at the teacher, she realized who it was. Instead of it being one of the new ones, it was Professor Jensen, the Slytherin head of house. Oh no. oh no no no no no. I’m done for, it’s only the 5th day of school and here I am breaking the rules. There is no way I can sneak out because that made a sound. Perhaps she doesn’t know me. Wait. That’s stupid I’m wearing my quidditch jumper. I’m done for. It’s over. What if she takes quidditch away?!? Oh no no. Alright, okay we need to turn this around. Be nice and kind and don’t look like you did something wrong.

Lavinia had given herself away and taking a little breath, she walked over to the professor. Surprising her nerves, Lavinia spoke quietly. “Good early morning Professor Jensen” Eyes fixing on the bowls in front of the adult, Lavinia went in for a question. If she could get the professor talking then hopefully no blame would come to herself. “Ooooo what are you making there?” she asked with curiosity lacing her voice. Once the item had been revealed, Lavinia would offer her services kindly. “Would you like some help with that?”

Outfit: Shoes, Pajamas, and Jumper

Night-time walks were never uncommon for Tuesday Irons. There was something so oddly comforting about the darkness, the soft whisper of wind and crickets chirping away in the shadows. He had been up for several hours now, snooping around the castle and its ground. His sleepless nights were not terribly uncommon, and so he always had a jacket nearby for whenever he felt the need to move. Tuesday wore a denim jacket over a tan hoodie with a pair of basic jeans and boots. The man tended to have a cold streak when sleeping, so he was always somewhat bundled up. To finish off the look, a red bandanna wrapped around his forehead. Honestly, he was never seen without it nowadays.

With hands stuffed into the side pockets of the worn denim jacket, the stroll continued. No face-eating monsters tonight, apparently. Professor Irons had been warned before arriving at the school that strange times had fallen upon the Hogwarts. However, tonight seemed calm and pleasant. Finally, the cold nip in the air became too much for Tuesday, and it quickly drove the man indoors. With eyes half-closed and lips ever so slightly curled up at the edges, the man just decided to follow his feet to wherever they may lead. So through the corridors, he strolled. He wondered if he was just leisurely meandering past students out past curfew, but honestly, if he missed them, they deserved to get off scot-free.

It felt like ages had passed as he wandered, but eventually, he would stop. Then, finally, what stood in front of the man was an entrance—the entrance to a kitchen. Some would even say the Kitchen. He exhaled sharply as a sign of amusement. Of course, his feet subconsciously would lead him directly to the place where he could fill his stomach. Was it human nature to think of food before anything else, or was it just him? However, the sound of a voice broke the silly man's thoughts of food. That didn't seem like an adult voice either.

Stepping through the entrance, Tuesday saw the scene in front of him. A student out past curfew and a terrifying woman. At least he wouldn't have to worry about disciplining the child because Jenny absolutely would. Clearing his throat, Tuesday finally spoke up, "Very early morning," His voice echoed the words of Miss Cloven, "'specially for kiddos still in their Pj's." Luckily, there was no harshness wrapped in the man's words. The man set a hand on the girl's shoulder as he strolled past and stopped next to Professor Jensen. "Good very early morning, Jenny." Tuesday knew that she probably hated when he called her that, but of course, that was the main reason he did so. His eyes scanned the table in front of Hjørdis as the puzzle pieces fell into place. Why in the world would she be baking at this hour? Maybe this was the strange goings ons at Hogwarts, just ridiculously early morning baking. The thought made him exhale another 'heh' from his nose. That would be something, wouldn't it? "So what's on the menu?"

The Night Time Outfit

Interaction with @Lavinia Cloven & @Hjørdis Jensen

Interacting With
@Hjørdis Jensen

Mentioning
@Tuesday Jeremiah Irons & @Lavinia Cloven

Eccentricity, in all its purest forms, was at its best around two in the morning. When no sensible soul was without the cover of bed sheets, and the creativity of restless minds flourished. When dreams pranced about pillow-bound heads, and lunatics danced without pants.
Halford, for his part, was wearing pants. But only following a careful session of personal deliberation, for to be truly free was to rend oneself of all trouserly bonds. To cast one's inhibitions aside and experience the true call of nature; to put all restraints in the boxer-laden past and feel the wind on your... legs.

Fully clothed in bright purple shorts, a neon-green tank top that read 'I see the future' in bulky pink writing, knee-high socks and jandals, Professor Booth looked like a snack - as the kids say.
No no, that wasn't correct. He was looking for a snack, hence his current trajectory toward the kitchen. He also disliked kids, which made his current job a rather arduous task.
Frankly, he hadn't realized just how much children irked him before taking the job. They were just so needlessly obnoxious. The idea that he was once one of their kind - forcing adults to lower their gaze when addressing him, and possessing no earthly ability to shut his mouth - nauseated him. And oh, all the questions.
What the heck is your accent? What did you say? How do you get your hair so foofy?
Ugh, truly it took an effort of Herculean proportions to prevent himself from leaping out the window of his classroom during those ungodly Divination sessions.
But, despite the deep extent of his suffering during the hours ruled by sunlight, at least there remained one time when he could be at peace: After curfew.
Oh, the blessed strike of eight o'clock, following which the man felt as though he could breathe once more. It was after this time that he could finally get work done, or else blow it off entirely; whatever he desired, without the added sound of sniveling noses.

Presently, as he strode through the corridors - adorned in rather memorable attire - the harsh tones of heavy metal emanated from a wireless radio in his pants pocket. Reverberating off the stone walls and down the hallway proper, the sound of electric guitar and howling vocals would alert any nearby to his presence.
Having received the magical radio as a birthday gift from his mother years ago, he'd quickly attuned it to his favored station - one that broadcast such music at all hours of the day - and hadn't changed it since.
Though the blaring music would have easily awoken sleeping students, he knew none of their dorms to be near this area. Not that he'd have cared if they were. After all, they disturbed him throughout the entire day; it would only be fair to return the favor.

Reaching his destination, the man pushed open the kitchen door, heavy metal penetrating its boundary as he did so. Stepping inside, his buoyant mood took an immediate dive into the floor.
Standing before him were three people. Three! At two in the morning! And to make matters worse, one of them was a student, which meant that he would be expected to deal with her.
Unwilling to accept that his night of freedom - boxer-laden though it was - had come to an end, he quickly reached the conclusion that if he didn't see anything, it wasn't his problem.
After staring at the group for an entire second, Hal averted his gaze, casually strolling past them as if nothing were amiss. Nipping into the cold storage, he later returned with an indiscriminate block of cheese in hand, feet carrying him lightly back to the door.
Without a word, loud music coating the room, he made his exit.

Unfortunately for him, he wouldn't take four steps before his brain relayed what he'd seen in there. Three people. Professor Irons, a child, and a woman. But wait. It hadn't been just any woman; it was the same one from the meet and greet two days prior - the one who had delivered salvation in the form of apple pie.
And what had she been doing?
Squinting, he strained his mind to recall the image. And two seconds later, he knew. She had been baking.

Silencing his radio, the Divination Professor did an about-face and re-entered the kitchen.
Brown eyes glazing hopefully across the recipe book atop the counter, then swiftly to Professor Jensen's face, he spoke. "By any chance, might yer be baking another of those apple pies? I reckon t' last one tasted reight grandly." His gruff voice rolled with expectation and a healthy dose of Yorkshire flattery. Anything to get his hands on another one of those pies. Heck, he'd even spend more time in the presence of a child to get one.

One day. That was all she wanted. One day of peace and quiet, a moment to just do something she enjoyed with people that she loved. One frickin' day where she did not need to scold someone, be annoyed by someone's stupidity, choice of music or whatever else they did that was annoying or be offended by their choice of clothing. That was all she really wanted. Just one day.

But that was too much to ask for. Her gaze raised from the book as it fell onto the door, about to say "you're early" when she spotted someone very different to who she was expecting. A young student. It was the middle of the night, right? She had not just imagined this, right? The student had the audacity to continue as though... nothing was wrong. Absolutely nothing. They were not out of bed - days after multiple incidents took place in the castle - in the middle of the night, breaking some of the most important rules.

Hjørdis was known to be one of the more stern professors. She bore a cold expression on her face and everyone assumed she was out to kill them. It was not entirely far from the truth but there were a few rules that she did not care much for and would allow being broken at times. Some rules, after all, were meant to be broken. This one was not one of them. This rule was entirely for their own safety and breaking it was nothing short of stupidity. This moronic behaviour was just not acceptable and she was getting mad just staring at the girl.

What made matters worse was that Tuesday appeared, almost... comforting the student. DID HE REALLY JUST PLACE A HAND ON HER SHOULDER AND DO NOTHING ELSE? Hjørdis wanted to scream at him - a feeling that was only made worse by the fact that he called her Jenny in front of the said kid. Her neutral expression turned into a glare within moments as she looked at Tuesday, completely aware of the fact that he was just... ignoring his duties of disciplining the student and carrying on like it was not his problem.

Not too many seconds later, the third arrival entered the area. His presence was made painfully obvious by the loud irritating sounds hitting her ears. The silence in the kitchen had been broken by a racket. But her eyes were even more offended than her ears. His outfit offended her. The obnoxiously loud colours that did not go were burning her retinas and was he wearing knee-high socks with sandals? He looked like a badly dressed tourist and she hated it. Could she burn his wardrobe? Was that an acceptable thing to do, because she was so tempted. Socialise, he claimed. Make friends, he suggested. It would be nice, he lied. If looks could kill... Hal Booth would not have lived long enough to walk out of the room in the first place. Luckily for him, they did not.

For about three seconds, she had a moment's peace as the door closed behind him and blocked out most of the awful sound. Then he returned. She almost snatched the radio, breaking it on the wall but he silenced it fast enough to prevent that.

This entire time Hjørdis just stood up straight - no longer leaning on the table in front of her - staring at the arrivals one by one. Her neutral expression turned into a glare. She sighed after Booth spoke, allowing a moment or two to pass in silence. It was clear that neither of the professors had any intention of doing anything but... eating food.

Right. Time to be the cold, heartless, responsible one it seemed. "I will decide the menu in one minute," She stated to the other two professors in the room before turning back to the student.

"Far too early, Miss Cloven. Since you're an early riser, I suspect that you'll be the first student to arrive at breakfast tomorrow?" She asked. Her tone of voice made the implication that Cloven should really attempt to be the first student to arrive at breakfast, and not be a second late.

"Now, tell me exactly why I should protect you from Professor Iwasaki? You have... approximately, forty-seven seconds. Go." She stated, pausing for a moment to check the time. Dumping this girl on Marcus was not what she wanted. But whilst Hjørdis could give her a detention for the rest of the year, Marcus could expel her before she could even blink. The level of discipline drastically differed when the student was of your own house. The girl had less than forty-seven seconds left to provide a good explanation and any hesitation, 'urms' or 'ers' would eat into that time.

Whether Cloven used that time wisely or not was another matter. Hjørdis did not care if she stood there silently for forty-seven seconds and simply wasted the entire time without providing a single excuse. Because, really, what excuse was there? If you were out this late, you either did not care for the rules or worse, you were up to something. She had seen the latter too many times for her liking. Regardless of what Cloven did, Hjørdis picked up a few more ingredients. Including a few apples, which she started to peel. She gave Cloven her due time, whilst her mind quickly pondered what to make.

Outfit of the Night

September 5th, 2021

Sleep hadn’t come for Lavinia and after five restless nights in the castle, she thought that a change of scenery would help her. It would be an understatement if she said that she was extremely wrong. Lavinia had headed towards the kitchens for a snack and had instead found Professor Jensen. Her friendly approach did nothing as she noticed the slight glare the professor was giving her. All chances of escaping were gone and at this moment, Lavinia regretted every part of her decision that lead her to the kitchens.

Very shortly after Lavinia had walked through the door, she heard other footsteps coming their way. In an act of selfishness, she hoped it was another student so all the blame wouldn’t be on her. Disappointingly for Lavinia, it was another adult. This one she wasn’t so familiar with but knew to be the new Herbology professor. Instead of the hostility, she was expecting from him, he seemed to be kind to her and even though he was nice, it took a lot of what was in her to not shudder at his touch.

During the interaction, Lavinia just stayed quiet. Now was not the time to laugh at him calling Professor Jensen, Jenny, or make a comment about how she wasn’t completely in her Pjs. Anyways, before there was even a chance to, another sound radiated off the walls. It was music that sounded particularly bad in Lavinia’s mind. Looking towards the door again she saw the most unusual sight. It was an adult but the outfit was awful, to say the least. The colors just didn’t match and Lavinia looked away as soon as she could. Unfortunately for her, the professor was headed right towards them.

Upon further unfortunate examination, she realized the shirt said ‘I see the future’ and immediately realized that this was the new Divination professor. Lavinia had never taken the class and now this outfit was one of the reasons why she wouldn’t even attempt it.

Finding it a bit odd how 3 professors were all in the kitchens at around 3 am Lavinia, wondered if she was interrupting the teacher’s baking club. Both of the later arrivals had asked Professor Jensen what was on the menu so there must have been some sort of coordination. Wishing that she could think more on this thought, Lavinia turned to the reality of this situation. She was out of bed after hours in a room with 3 professors. Things really could not have gone worse.

As expected, Professor Jensen had turned her attention away from the hungry professors and onto Lavinia. Knowing that it was stupid to try and lie, Lavinia tried to prepare herself for what was to come. Almost immediately after the statement was said, Lavinia responded “O-o-of course, I normally am.” The stutter at the beginning was nothing but nerves as she tried to look semi-confident in her response.

Listening carefully, the next question almost made Lavinia do a double-take. Professor Jensen was giving her 47 seconds to plead her case. It was a kind offer that Lavinia didn’t deserve and before she thought about what she was saying, she started talking. “You shouldn’t.” pausing for a second to realize what she said, Lavinia continued. “My actions brought me here and I should take responsibility for them. I knew it was wrong yet I came anyway and it’s completely my fault.” Taking another second short pause break, Lavinia got into the real reason why she was here. “I haven’t been able to sleep much at all during this school year and thought that maybe that a cup of milk would help some of the guilt go away but now I doubt that anything could. It doesn’t matter though, you can go ahead and punish me, I deserve it for more than just this one reason.”

Lavinia accepted that punishment was coming and was trying to be honest yet didn’t want to burden them with her problems. She was doing nothing to stop whatever might happen to her because she knew it was useless and now all she had to do was wait here for whatever three professors had in store for her.

Outfit: Shoes, Pajamas, and Jumper

Sunday | 5 September 2021 | after 2am
Interacting: @Hjørdis Jensen and @Lavinia Cloven
Mentioning: @Tuesday Jeremiah Irons and @Halford Booth

Marcus' Intimidation is in effect.

It is a sentiment that enters people's hearts when they are in your presence. They feel dis-ease when you are present, even if the interaction is casual or even friendly.

A blind man couldn't miss the glower that the head of the house of snakes shot at him as he casually moved past the girl. If his prior experience dictated reality, Tuesday could've guessed he would receive an ear lashing from the woman after the child left. As soon as he managed to find his place adjacent to Hjørdis, he would lean forward. The man placed his right elbow down on the counter before Tuesday lazily placed his knuckles right on his jawline. His eyes were on the recipe book that lay open in front of the Head of Slytherin. Obviously, he wasn't a slave to a pie like Hal was, but he would be lying if he said there wasn't any interest in late-night baked goods. Speaking of pie slaves, the horrific outfit worn by a particular 'future viewing' professor. It was strange, for a man who supposedly could see into events yet to come, to wear something that could cause a national incident. Rion had constantly jokingly criticized his choice in attire, but he couldn't wait until the Frenchman caught a whiff of the abomination that could be called 'clothes.' Halford might see the future, but clearly, he couldn't see color. Tuesday just imagined Orion's reaction as the Herbology professor gawked at Booth. Indeed a wonder of the world, this man was. Booth had just ignored the entire situation until he noticed that Nora had the possibility of making pies. The Booth had a one-track mind, so that's one thing. Tuesday couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. In response, Nora's curt retort was enough of a tell that she wasn't one to be messed with at this time.

The woman gave an opportunity for the girl to explain, at least. How very kind of her. A whole forty-seven seconds of explanation? Impressive. If he were in Lavinia's position, Tuesday would have just apologized profusely and begged for some sympathy. As a child, he was somewhat of a kissass. That usually got him out of trouble for when his judgment had lapsed. However, his thoughts turned dark for a moment—one of the main reasons for joining the staff at Hogwarts. His gentle smile quickly waned into a frown. Maybe he could understand the rationale behind the severe response from Hjørdis. This place wasn't exactly what you would call 'safe' at night. His benefactor informed him of such, but he didn't realize how quickly things would go to hell in a handbasket. It took a couple of days, but he was starting to understand how this place was operating. Pieces were beginning to click into place.

Turning away from his somber thoughts, Tuesday forced himself to focus back on the Ravenclaw girl's forty-seven seconds to save herself from discipline. He watched as she spoke of how it was entirely her fault. Nice. She was trying to spin the view into a different perspective. That is smart. It was interesting how this girl had decided to go down the path of claiming fault. He idly wondered why she chose this course of action? Was it to get onto Jenny's good side by expressing that the professor was right? However, the mention of guilt had piqued the man's curiosity and sense of duty. Finally speaking up, Tuesday tilted his head to the side as if trying to inspect the girl. "What do you mean by guilt? Is there a reason that you are feeling guilty?" his voice was as neutral as it could be, and only concern washed over his features. He didn't want to flat out say, 'what have you done' because that was no way to start a dialogue. It was accusatory, and that was a sure-fire way to get somebody to clam up faster than a fat kid chasing an ice cream truck. Finally pulling himself up from his relaxed position, the Herbology Professor's lips pressed together as he continued to examine the Ravenclaw.

The night air in the kitchen was already raucous enough as is. Still, honestly, Tuesday wasn't expecting any more 'company.' So when Marcus had stepped through the threshold and into the kitchen, the man couldn't help but direct his attention at the newest member to the party. There wasn't much interaction between himself and the Ravenclaw head of house since he arrived at this school, but the man seemed agreeable enough. "Oh, Mr. Iwasaki. Lovely night, isn't it? I think we had all found our way here for a midnight snack, so it seems." He made sure to give a recognizable glance towards the girl. Something didn't feel exactly alright with Marcus' presence. Something about it made his stomach churn with discomfort. Maybe it was the sudden intervention of the man along with his already nervous and dire thoughts of these terrible events that occurred in these hallowed halls.

Interaction with @Marcus Iwasaki, @Lavinia Cloven, @Hjørdis Jensen, & And last and most definitely least @Halford Booth

Interacting With
@Lavinia Cloven, @Marcus Iwasaki & @Hjørdis Jensen

Mentioning
@Tuesday Jeremiah Irons

As was growing increasingly customary over the years, Halford's entrance was met with consternation in the expressions which greeted him. Brows quirked in distaste, their features would reflect inner strife as they contemplated the exact feelings elicited by his garb.
Professor Jensen appeared to take rein of her emotions the quickest. Shooting him a pair of venom-tipped daggers, she made it perfectly clear how much she disapproved of his outfit before turning to deal with the student, also stating that he would be forced to wait for a possible pie presentation - a tragedy, to be sure.
But, while the prospect of postponing such a delight filled him with dread, the pointed glare of disgust failed to rattle his composure, though the same couldn't be said for the young girl who had broken curfew. Shaking like a leaf in a windstorm, Miss Cloven - as Jensen had called her - was quickly left bereft of courage in the face of disgruntled authority.

Her stuttering did little to endear her to Hal, who would never be caught dead in such a discombobulated state. Self-assurance and fortitude were paramount in all aspects of life, whether it be in the heat of social climate, or personal reflection to place one's worth in their own mind.
Possessing an uncanny understanding of events around him, as well as how they might progress with time, the man had always used that knowledge to place himself in positions that would reap the most benefit. It wasn't an exact science, yet still allowed him to retain a natural confidence that was not easily shaken. Some called it arrogance; but could it truly be referred to as such when it had been so constantly vindicated? Hal thought not. Of course, the opinions of others generally meant very little anyhow. The individual most qualified to direct his actions was the ravishing man that met him in the mirror.

Though the girl's ramblings about guilt did little more than tire Halford's patience, it seemed Tuesday's interest was piqued.
Eyeing the Herbology Professor with a down-turned gaze, the less sympathetic instructor wondered what his colleague hoped to gain from giving credence to the words of a loose-lipped student. It was clear that her only goal was to evade punishment by seeking pity.
The American might be foolish enough to play her game, but Hal experienced no twinge of empathy.

The mere idea of getting involved dragged him to premature exhaustion, but he figured it was time to step in.
Still gripping the block of cheese in one hand, the man crossed his arms and shifted his weight to the wall beside the door. Lazily casting his eyes toward Miss Cloven, he spoke in an acidic tone. "So consumed wi' guilt, an' yer choose teh salve't pain by breakin' school rules? Addin' guilt on guilt seems a reight odd way teh cope, lass. I don' see a reason teh believe one word." He tossed a pointed glance at Professor Jensen as the last comment passed his lips.

His distrustful nature had been conceived by the situation surrounding his father's death, and was only nourished by his previous profession. Despite stipulations such as age, appearance, or apparent reliability, it seemed that people always had ulterior motives. A robber would stab his partners in the back once their usefulness was expended; a woman might seduce a man merely to get to his wallet; a distraught child would feign tears to deflect the anger of their parents - or, if the situation demanded, their teachers.
In Hal's mind, a suspect was guilty until proven innocent. And this girl was a liar until she convinced him otherwise.

Especially given the fact that she currently stood between him and his pie.

Without warning, a new presence added its energy to the room. But this presence was different. It was heavier, weighing on the Divination Professor's chest like a depressive force. His heart danced past a beat as brown eyes turned to observe the bearer of the powerful aura.
He'd seen the man before, though failed to interact directly. Recollection taking hold, he placed the newcomer as Head of the Ravenclaw house - his own during his time as a student.

Though it took effort, the man maintained his indifferent posture, watching the Ravenclaw Head with a less than friendly expression.
In his time with the Ministry of Magic, he had encountered few individuals that managed to displace the steady rhythm of his heart, even for a moment. Any and all that did so immediately earned his ire.
This man carried an undeniable sense of intimidation, but did not seem to compare with the most threatening Hal had met. Having hunted down some of Europe's most dangerous criminals, he was rarely phased. Evidently, there was more to this wizard than met the eye.

Halford's acerbic gaze vacated the man's face, a shrug serving as response to his question.
"A frightened student spewin' lies," he said dismissively. "Nothin' more."

In that very moment, she could not tell who she was most annoyed at. Everyone was irritating her. Well, everyone except Marcus - who was the only one who was actually supposed to be here. Her gaze flickered towards her cat that was curled up before moving towards some barrels, as her mind pondered for a few moments.

Narrowing her eyes back onto the student, she listened to the case that was being presented. Which... really was not a case at all. In fact, the Ravenclaw offered no real excuse for why she should be protected from her head of house, other than laying on the guilt pretty thickly. It was not an excuse by any means. However, this was also not the first time that this had happened. Hjørdis had spent far too much time dealing with people who could not sleep. She had far too much experience on the matter.

Her eyes flickered up to the newest arrival, who arrived exactly on time - which just made her internally smile. It then flicked to the item in this hand, causing her to quirk her eyebrow ever so slightly. Did he- was it- Shaking the thought out of head, she dismissed it for now, hiding the sheer surprise that she felt.

Moving around the kitchen, Hjørdis busied herself with something as both Irons and Booth engaged with the student and in turn, with Marcus. She returned with a glass of milk, that she placed in front of Lavinia. Irons had already asked the question she wanted to be answered. What exactly this student was feeling guilty over. Booth took a more distrusting approach - not that Hjørdis blamed him. She had spent many years distrusting people. Even now, she did not trust easily. Her actions were not her trusting the student, it was simply limiting the excuses.

"Let's see... Irons was hungry, Booth was... whatever this is," She summarised spreading her fingers before circling her hand over him a few times to emphasise that she really had no idea what was going on with... any of him. Whether that was the music he had been playing (which she was very glad had stopped) or his eyesore of an outfit...

Leaning forward, she perched herself onto the table with her elbows against them as she looked at Cloven, "And Miss Cloven here, was about to tell us a joke. If you make us - well, me - laugh, you're free to go without consequences," She blurted out the challenge before she could stop herself. Why? She had no idea. It just came out. Perhaps it was because of the date or because her thoughts were occupied by thoughts of someone who was a definite inspiration for this. Why did she- nevermind. She did not want to know or question it. Without hesitation, she continued to talk, not waiting for the joke but rather, giving her some time to think of something if she was up for the challenge.

"Either way, she could use an escort back to the dorms," She responded to Marcus, giving him an out if he wanted to escape from the other two professors in the room - which she was secretly wishing she could do too. Before her attention turned back to the student, "Return that glass to me at breakfast. I expect you to be the first student there," She continued, "If you fail to make me laugh or you're late, I'll see you at eight pm for some yoga," Yes, she was literally offering that the yoga was the detention she would give her. In particular, either sleep yoga or laugh yoga, depending on what seemed to be more necessary by the evening and which challenge she failed. "So, Miss Cloven, what's the joke?"

Outfit of the Night