The Tempest (Titanic!)

[Sylvie Richelieu]

The Tempest

The cloying scent of chlorine hung in the air, wafting over the lapping water of the obnoxiously grand swimming pool Hanmel was ever so proud of. Regardless of how large, wet and cold the rectangular puddle was, it did little to attract Sylvie and prompt her to actually swim.

What was originally going to be a quick in-and-out soon turned into a rather generous time wading through the shallows and avoiding any possibility of actually exerting herself. The heiress still worried about the hygiene standards of Hammel so the very thought of putting her head under disgusted her.

The matte black skirted swimsuit dripped with every step the girl took and after avoiding several suspicious looking puddles, the French student was safely within the confines of a shower space. Her towel was slung over the door, quickly followed by the swimsuit that she managed to peel off with little trouble. Her nakedness was something not many had the honour of witnessing, as of yet...only Carter had seen her in all of her European glory.

Having already checked the other stalls to confirm her isolation, Sylvie gingerly turned the shower's nobs and proceeded to drench her naked figure with the steaming water. After cleansing her skin, shampooing and conditioning her brown locks and ensuring her bare feet did not slip out of the sandals Sylvie, was done.

Drying her skin off and wrapping the towel around her steaming body, the gargoyle stepped out with a relieved sigh.

This contentment was suddenly ruined when she heard someone else enter.

"Whose there?" Sylvie demanded, clutching her towel close to her body before peering around the corner.

The icy gaze found their target and the gargoyle felt herself tense up.

It was her.

[Aryana Darcy]

The water was a release, a way for Rya to get away from all the troubles in her mind. All she had to do was concentrate on the water around her. From the way it moved, to the feeling it provided as she glided through calmed the brunette significantly. She did a few laps then just waded through, making beautiful displays as she rested.

However, all good things must come to an end. Rya was worn out, and she was ready to get out. Her stomach growled and her muscles ached, but overall, she felt good. So good, in fact, that she seemed to forget exactly why she came to the pool in the first place. Rya didn't dwell on it, slipped out of the water, and made her way over to the locker rooms to change.

Upon arrival, she heard a girl and her brow raised in disbelief. 'Who's there' implied a sense of ownership over the room which, frankly, astounded the Brit. The girl who never felt entitled to anything came out then. From afar, she could see the girl was quite beautiful, her body being something Rya highly appreciated. But coming closer, she noticed the beauty was masked within the contortions of her face. Rya didn't have to be an empath to realize the girl either didn't like her, or was pissed off.

"Sorry, Sweetheart, didn't realized you owned the damn locker room," Her voice was loud and clear as she moved to retrieve her duffle bag.

[Sylvie Richelieu]

If Sylvie had the time to properly explain her apprehension at having another person walk in on her shower time, she would've conjured a fairly detailed list as to why it simply did not sit well with her. Yes, the locker rooms weren't her own, if they were they would probably be cleaner and have a lesser chance of any stray woman's hygiene products lying around. But the fact of the matter is, the heiress knew this girl, not personally, but enough to dislike her.

What was initially a chance observation quickly turned into a much more believable theory. The other girl may not have remembered but both of them had brushed past one another in the hallways right in front of dorm room 205, Carter's living space.

It didn't take much to decipher exactly what this snarky plebeian was doing in that dorm room. Sylvie wasn't stupid and knew all about Carter's generous habits, and being the gracious lover that she was she generally accepted it, albeit grudgingly.

But this girl...she didn't deserve Carter, she was far too basic. Sylvie's prince was turning to cheap sideshows to keep himself entertained, which was a damn shame.

"Own this? Please. I was just making sure you weren't someone important." She sniffed, wrinkling her nose at the girl's use of sweetheart. American terms of endearment always irked her.

[Aryana Darcy]

"Clearly you haven't been here very long," The Brit shot back, not one for conversing with pop culture barbies. The accent was highly recognizable, due to the fact that she spoke with a man on a daily basis who owned an identical one. French. Though charming on Carter, it was annoying on her.

She turned and looked at the girl, her eyes making and maintaining eye contact, careful not to trail her body. The girl didn't even deserve her attention, really. But she did like to know why, from the moment she walked in, this girl seemed to hold something against her.

"But I won't waste my precious time on a French prick who has her head too far up her arse to see what's in front of her. Sorry, love."

[Sylvie Richelieu]

"I've been here long enough." Sylvie uttered in a curt and cold tone, still keeping her towel clutched tight against her naked skin. Anyone who said French girl's were completely liberal with their nudity clearly needs a slap to the face, the heiress wasn't going to stride around completely exposed with the vast amount of sex crazed baboons roaming the school.

Unlike many others, who often conceded defeat early and walked away from the icy heiress, this newcomer had a fiesty air, something which Sylvie found equally frustrating as she did endearing. At least someone at this school could keep her entertained.

Maintaining her deathly leer, the slender French girl took a graceful step to the side and clasped hair tie from her little satchel. With her hair out do the way, Sylvie felt that little less cluttered. Even when in a sparring match, one must always look their best.

"Precious time? I didn't know that was a thing here at Hammel. What could any of you possibly have or do that is precious?" Sylvie sniffed, offering the girl a cold smile before glancing at the exit. She was not going to be the one walking out defeated. "What's in front of me is this. Another sorry little metahuman who thinks she can do whatever, wherever and with whoever." Sylvie stated, her luscious voice gleaming over the venom in her words.

"I just wonder...how on earth did you manage to catch Carter's attention?" She asked, almost politely. "Did he have to pay you?" Sylvie smiled, shrugging ever so slightly at her less than gracious joke. She knew Carter wasn't that sort of person, but agitating this girl seemed like an entertaining endeavour.

[Aryana Darcy]

Rya ignored her first comment, thinking of it as unnecessary to comment on. Rya maintained a calm and collected expression as she spoke. Her words were almost bored, as if she really couldn't care less what came out of this girl's mouth. That much was true. Her hands itched to use the water around her, to piss her off, but that would be left for some other time.

"I'm sure you would be surprised that people actually have more important things to do than figure out what nail polish they'll wear in the morning," Rya cracked an equally cold grin, stepping back and pushing the water from her body. It collected in her hands and splashed right in front of the girl's feet. Yes, the perfect time was now.

"Oh, are you looking in a mirror? Should I move so you can see more of your plastic reflection?" She moved out of the way, bowing and extending an arm out toward the empty space in front of the girl. "Your Highness," She said, her tone now malicious.

"Oh so this is what it's about. Carter, aha. Figures," She examined the girl once again, realizing that she must have known Carter from home, due to the accent. "Actually, dearest, the man calls me. And actually, during the two years we've been fucking, not once has he mentioned you, Ms...?"

Rya crossed her arms, brow raised, and chuckled to herself.

[Sylvie Richelieu]

It was as if Fate himself had thrust the two girls into the never ending cycle of France and Britian's tense rivalry. Someone did not need to be a history major to know that both countries had their differences, in this case, with both nations embodied by teenage girls, it only seemed so much worse. The sparring match would never have happened if either chose to stifle their pride, but a topic as important as Carter always needed defending.

Sylvie did little to react to the girl's retort, simply rolling her eyes at the bland arguments set forward. What she did react to was the stream of water that flew in her direction, landing by her feet and completely drenching her lower half. A low half yelp escaped her lips and a deepening shadow began to settle on her brow. This wench was trying to aggravate her, that was not going to happen, regardless of how wet the heiress got.

"Plastic reflection? What are you, seven?" Sylvie snarled, shaking off the wetness on her feet before granting herself a moment to chuckle at the new title. Your Highness, even though it was said as an insult it was always nice being compared to royalty.

The girl's reply to Sylvie's query about Carter actually took her off guard, silencing her momentarily as her mind receded into thoughts and theories that could possibly explain it all. Hardening her heart and soothing the annoyance in the back of her mind, Sylvie offered the British brat a devious smile.

"I wouldn't expect him to mention me. After two years fornicating with you I'd expect him to keep the important things out of his pillow talk. A walking, talking vagina is just what you are, something he can dump his seed into and get it over with." She uttered, crossing her arms whilst keeping her gaze tightly wound around the girl.

"And it's common practise to offer your name before asking for someone else's." The heiress tutted, finding the girl's lack of manners grossly cute.

[Aryana Darcy]

This french whore was amusing, shooting back her retorts with as much venom as Rya mustered. It was something that she was not accustomed to, but the Brit refused to back down. Especially since she was not going to give Carter up just because some pompous priss decided that she owned him. The guy didn't wear a lead, dammit. He was capable of making his own decisions on who he wanted to and didn't want to sleep with. That included this girl, and it brought bile up from the depths of her stomach. He was sleeping with this.

With a grin, she felt satisfied with the reaction the girl provided her. It was obvious she didn't want anything to do with the dirty water on the floor. She formulated another plan if she really did get anymore irritating than she already was. Her power was relatively harmless unless she actively sought it to hurt, so she couldn't get in too much trouble if she used it.

"You act if you are so much better. He's slept with you, and you aren't even his girlfriend. What does that make you?" Rya hissed, stepping back just slightly. At the moment, it seemed like an act of defeat, but she was simply making room for a little 'show'.

"You may stick your nose up at the world, but how pathetic is it that you are sitting here trying to lay claim on a man that doesn't even want a claim on you? I at least don't say he is mine, since I know he is his own man. You don't have the guy on a lead and you,"

Rya was heated now, frustrated. She collected all the water from around her and formed a three sided wall around the princess, the fourth wall being Rya's body.

"Never. Will."

[Sylvie Richelieu]

The very fact that Sylvie was so concerned for her princely counterpart may have come as a surprise to everyone, herself included. Eight years of friendship, affection and the strengthening of her bond with Carter would not go to waste nor get stained by the assault of some immature wench with the behavioural width of a six year old. Carter was by and large one of the scarce few people the heiress genuinely cared about, even if her concern was rarely voiced it still irked her to see the gallant Chevalier involve himself with this standard of person.

Sylvie ignored the cold, wet feeling on her feet and allowed her mind to settle, her thoughts forming into one specific entity, the defence of herself and the young man she so fiercely adored.

"It's because I am better." Sylvie stated with the utmost clarity. There was no argument in her mind that would hinder such a belief, if it was called narcissism then she was a narcissist and a proud one at that. "I don't need to be his girlfriend to worry about him and protect him from the likes of you, Pétasse." She snarled, clenching her jaw with the insult. She ignored the jab at the role she actually played with Carter, that in itself was a completely new can of worms not worth opening for this fool.

The heiress could do little more than wrinkle her nose in disgust at the girl's futile arguments, she was all talk. All talk. It would have been insulting if Sylvje didn't find this entire argument morbidly entertaining, she enjoying riling up the simple folk. "Carter and I have something you would not understand and there is no point in me explaining it." She concluded, flickering her eyes over to the girl.

The sharp, venomous statement itself was enough to send a sliver of anger coursing through the heiress' body, the sheer ignorance of the girl irking Sylvie even further.

Gazing at the walls of water surrounding her, the heiress felt her slender muscles tense up immediately, a darkening frown settling on her porcelain features. "Was that a threat, salope?" Sylvie questioned, glaring at the girl like she was nothing more than a rat. "You're not the only one with gifts." The heiress uttered, taking a step forward.

Snapping her wrist upwards in one swift movement, the heiress held her fingers right in front the wench's forehead. With one slight movement her index finger flicked forward, rapidly shifting into the creamy grey stone right before it came into contact with the brit's skin.

"Silly girl." The gargoyle smiled maliciously, knowing full well that the stone cold flick to the face would bruise.

[Aryana Darcy]

There was no doubt there were conflicting viewpoints on one another, though Rya felt her own was justified. The girl had not a clue what type of girl Rya was, and how when she cared, though she wouldn't admit it, she'd care with all of her heart. So this false 'standard' that the pompous princess put up against the hydrokinetic was simply that: false.

However, it didn't matter much to her what this girl ultimately thought of her. She had groups of girls who were envious of her physical relationship with Carter. They called her a slut, and a whore. But Rya didn't care. The Brit had built up walls for a reason, and honestly, the only person who had managed to break through those walls was Carter. As much as that scared her, she wasn't giving it up. Especially to this girl who felt the world owed her everything in a pretty package.

"I could say the same to you," Rya said in response to the girl's comment on her relationship with Carter. Really, she was getting tired of this. She was fuming, yes, but she was slowly losing her resolve to argue. That, and holding up the walls of water was getting exhausting.

The darkening in the girl's eyes stunned her for a moment, but the shock was quickly masked by a look of indifference. "I don't make threats, princess." Rya was the kind of girl that did as she said. There was no point in lying, anyway.

The next thing irritated her beyond belief. A quick, swift movement on behalf of the French girl allowed stone to come into contact with her forehead in a quick flick. It did hurt, but not enough to let her guard down. So this girl could shift into stone? Fitting outside for a stone cold inside, Rya thought.

"You know what, I am done with you. Hope you enjoy your shower."

At that, Rya backed away and allowed the walls of dirt and bacteria infested water to fall on Sylvie. She blocked whatever water came her way, and reflected it back onto the girl. She grabbed her dufflebag and stepped out of the locker room, pulling on her shirt as she did so.

She was going to have a long talk with Carter later. Rest assured.