Last Flowers [semi-open]

The sky was a soft velvet, veined with blood red streaks as the sun began to dip behind the mountains. Jane leaned against the railing, breathing in the crisp dusk air, some of summer's last gasps before it gave way to autumn. You could already see the smear of red and gold in the hills as the days chilled. Soon they'd be back to rain and gray clouds and swirling leaves. She'd miss the heat, but she'd already accepted the cold. It wasn't all gloom and doom. Autumn was earthy smells and hot spices and foggy mornings, all the little things she'd forgotten she'd missed until they'd started bleeding back into the Beata campus, little by little. Summer flared bright and fast here, but it was warmer than back home. She was more cut out for the fall.

She bit back a sigh, glancing down from the sunset haze. The metal was slick underneath her sweaty palms, the railing clutched in a weak grip. Her hands were too pale. Jane leaned more of her weight against the rail, almost half-collapsed, propped up like a corpse. All she could hope for was that it looked more natural than it felt. I just can't think straight...

Sam was heading his way up to the rooftop get some peace and quiet. Not that he could ever find any, however. He opened the door to the rooftop, cigarette in mouth, when he noticed Jane leaning against the railing, looking somewhat sickly. "Ah fuck. I was hoping I'd be alone." he muttered, lighting the cigarette up. "Hey. Long time no see." he said simply.

Footsteps sounded as Montare made his way up the stairs snd onto the rooftop. He didn't plan on staying long; he was simply just taking a break from training. Although, he didn't plan on there being anyone else up on the roof, either. Immediately he took notice of Jane and... someone he didn't recognize. Turning to the left, he simply walked over to the rails on another side of the roof. Montare wasn't too sure that he wanted to approach either of them, at least not yet. So for now he'd just listen, and eventually either approach them or leave.

Damn. That was one way to start a party. The loner smoker from the conservatory, she could tell from the glance, and a lean shadow that slipped in quietly after him without so much as a word. She didn't even blink at Cayden rising from thin air on beams of fluorescent light. At some point, you just stopped being surprised. "My, my, I feel popular." Jane turned from the railing and tilted her head with a weak smile, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Sorry to spoil your alone time. I don't mind the extra company, though." She let her gaze drift over to Cayden, trying not to stare too hard after his... ahem, flashy entrance. "Hey, baby dick." Sadly, their child was long gone. Call it a fourth trimester abortion. Since then, she'd seen too little of him, besides the odd appearance here and there. "It's been too long. How's a single mama supposed to support herself?"

On that note... Jane turned her head. "And you. You're not dodging me, are you? Don't be so cold. Get your furry tail over here."

He rolled his eyes at the new arrival, popping up from over the railing. But when Jane said something about a furry tail, he got confused. Taking a long drag from his smoke, he looked around and noticed that someone had slipped in from behind him. So that's who she was talking about. "I bet you feel mysterious, trying to arrive undetected." he said, targeted at Montare. A slight cough built up in Samuel's throat but he pushed it down. He knew he should stop smoking, but hell, if it stopped him from killing someone, why not make the best of it. "Have you met me, Apollo? I am the captain of the S.S. Edgelord." he said, mocking himself.

It was a long flight of stairs up to that rooftop. Rohan always thought himself in better shape than most, fit in that he always wandered around the city and herded goats in Scotland. However, by the time he got to the top of that staircase, he was panting like a dog, his legs anchored to the bottom of the steep climb as he fought hard to pull on his chains, to make his way to the lukewarm bathe of orange that projected onto the wall from the ajar rooftop door. He made it, just barely, breathing too hard to speak well, but he powered himself through the door and abruptly shut it, a thunderous clap sending sparrows flying in alarm. The boy had his back turned, at first, holding it with one hand and searching for a lock with his other; he heard the scuff of another person's shoe and looked behind him to see people, many people. He gave an open-mouthed, so-so smile, his chest heaving.

"Ay, he said, "Ay..g...give me some 'elp here, help me hold this door for a few, just...just for a bit, gotta make sure I wa'nt followed." If there was a charming way of barging into a gathering sweating and gasping, he had a smile to him that could entice. It wasn't as much of a cool smile as it was a reasoning smile. He could often convince a person to do something with him with a grin. Or perhaps it was his eyes.

There was the slight tapping of feet walking close-by that seemed to alarm him, and he abandoned his hunt for a lock; rather, he stood there with his shoulder to the door, gripping the handle.

Well, so much for that. Montare turned and made his way over to Jane, Sam, and Cayden, although he didn't recognize the latter two. He simply rolled his eyes at Sam, otherwise ignoring him. "No, I'm not trying to dodge you. Who're the-" Montare stopped abruptly as the door to the roof was slammed shut. Turning around, he saw the seemingly exhausted newcomer who was now holding the door shut. Now who the hell was this? He looked like he had been running for his goddamn life.

Jane gave a small sniff. How crude. She glazed over the off-beat joke to look back at Montare, when the door slammed open and closed again. "Sh—...!" The clang of metal almost made her jump out of her skin. Damn, she really was popular up here. Regaining her composure, she turned to look over the newcomer, black hair and amber eyes, a thick accent. He was panting and barricading the door like he'd just been chased down by a zombie horde. Like Montare and Cayden, of course, she didn't move an inch, just brushing her hair off her shoulder and putting a hand on her hip. "Is there something we should know about? We're not about to get implicated in anything by you running into us, right?" It was only half-teasing.

With a light sigh, she pushed off the fence, taking a few unsteady steps out into the open rooftop. For a few moments it must have looked like her legs couldn't support her torso, shambling like a corpse, but she managed to regain something that resembled a walk, continuing with an oblivious self-confidence as if the moment of imperfection hadn't happened. She stopped just short of the door, holding her hands behind her back, looking the door up and down before glancing to the Scotsman. He had a nice smile, if it wasn't tinged with desperation. "At the very least, just tell me that ten more people aren't about to burst through that door."

"Nae, nuh, nae," he said, a few times under the scorned whisper of his breath as he listened through the door to hear if anyone, or anything was on the other end. If he could watch Jane he probably would have tried to be more endearing, or more handsome. His mum always said the sunset complimented his eyes, after all, and looking at her face he would have remarked at her beauty. But he kept his eyes gazing to the side, up in the air like he were daydreaming as he focused on the sounds coming from the other end of the heavy barrier. "I was s'posed to be in class tuhdae, teacher saw me smokin' outside, started comin' at me un' waggin' 'er finger like the leader of a fook'n marching band, I..." Suddenly he gave a sharp sssh! as if anyone was talking but him, and in a short silence, the boy backed away from the door. He paused for a moment and watched it for a few moments, his hands slipping absentmindedly into his pockets. "A'think she din't follow me, we're good."

Sam shrugged. Cayden was about the most tolerable of his cousins, but even he had a limit on annoyance. "Creepy loner is my goal in life." he replied to the Hawke with a tense laugh. Turning to the boy with the heavy accent, he rolled his eyes. "You better hope she didn't follow, otherwise we'll all be fucking busted, at least those of us that technically have class now." he told him, not wanting to get caught smoking. Cutting class he could care less about. If his parents found out he was smoking, he'd be dead. And if people found out he was still scared of his parents, particularly his dad, the Winter would become the next laughing stock of Beata Academy.

Montare simply crossed his arms as he listened to the Scot. Judging by how thick his accent was, you'd think he'd been raised in Scotland. Then again, maybe he was.
With nothing better to do, Montare walked over to the door, listening carefully as he approached it. Didn't sound like there was anyone on the other side of the door, or at least, no one who was heading for the door. Hopefully things would stay that way. Montare didn't have class right now, but it probably wouldn't look good if he was found with them, seeing as Sam was smoking and Rohan already got caught smoking.

Jane sucked in a sharp breath. That wasn't good. Even if he gave her the slip for right now, it's not like he blended in. She gave the Scot a light, consoling pat on the head, only half teasing, the trace of a smirk still imprinted on her lips. "Don't be so stiff, 'captain edgelord,'" she said with a glance over her shoulder. There wasn't any reason to freak over something like this, at least until a guardian came banging on the door. "And speaking of which, you never did give me that cigarette the last time we spoke."

"Here." It seemed that before Sam could answer her, Rohan had dug into his pocket and pulled out a half-empty box. "If yuh want one, amur happy to spare 'un." It was the perfect chance to do something for the girl. As he had turned from the door, he caught a look at her, and brightened. Or rather, darkened, for his posture adjusted to something cooler, something that he would put on if a group of birds passed on the street back home. Lending a cigarette was a common courting ceremony too among his groups. "I've got plenty."

He paid little heed to the guys. If it has only been them he would have left immediately.

ooc;; in 1889, the Ivory Coast is declared a French protectorate, and Coca Cola is incorporated in Atlanta, Georgia as Pemberton Medicine Company.

Sam was about to acknowledge the fact that he hadn't given Jane her cigarette from last time in the conservatory when the boy with the accent gave one to her. "Ah, well, maybe next time sweetheart. Looks like someone else is trying to get on your good side." he told her.

"Thank you," she said with a sickly sweet smile, taking the cigarette from his fingers. She shot Sam a glance, still smirking, looking one second away from sticking her tongue out at him. "At least someone here knows how to accommodate a lady. And they say chivalry's dead." Jane lifted up to her mouth, looking around at the small group. It was a nice change of pace from ten minutes ago when she was up here brooding all alone. "Anyone got a light?"

She did in her back pocket, but that was too easy.