pride. (Nicolas)

[Bastille]

“Now can anyone tell me the major reforms of king henry the eighths reign? Anyone?”

Being in a belligerent mood, she saw no reason not to raise her hand.

“Bastille?”

A weary reply to her silent hand. Usually Bastille never raised her hand in the first place. This was of good character. She sighed and closed her eyes putting her hand back down and with a purse of her lips, while still doodling began her answer.

“The major, as many may concern is his banishing of the catholic religion out of England to make way for the church of England all to prove he wasn’t married to a 50 year old woman who was originally married to his brother and so that he could marry the slutty Anne Boleyn who’s ambition was a bit too high on the racks if you ask me, and then after he realized what a mistake that was, and after his childish and spoiled behavior caused him to realize after being sick that he needed a boy to rule, he then went and married Jane Seymour who died of child birth fever after giving him the son he always wanted. his reformation was more on how many wives a king can have rather then actually doing much to the benefit of England and its new church which wasn’t that much different from catholic religion in the first place. Though I will admit out of his reign we did derive Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary who both where ‘women’ and both had very powerful grips over government…though queen Mary we can just throw out due to her vengeful tastes and we can just replace her with the other great monarch England had Queen Victoria…though who is great betwixt her and Elizabeth is under great controversy”

The teach stared at her shocked and rather dumbfounded. Truly Bastille had never been one to take much interest in King Henry, only the motives of him and his wives. Such politics was fun, and it was also fun to prove women had somewhat of better luck as rulers then men in some of the most worldly powers. Bastille only smirked and continued to chew her gum shoving her head phones back on over only one ear.

[Nicolas Constantine]

Back of the class as usual. Nick liked the rear because not only could he sleep and listen to music, but he had an entire view of the class and everyone in it, even if it was the back of their heads. The subject today was Henry the Eighth, which Nick only did not care about, but he had learned about the harsh monarch when he was a wee lad in Primary School in England. He yawned, taking down his headphones, seeing where in the discussion the class was at.

“Now can anyone tell me the major reforms of king Henry the Eighths reign? Anyone?”[/b]

The girl with the silver and blonde locks who was stilling in front of him raised her hand.

“Bastille?”

What shocked Nick wasn't her answer, but her thick British accent. He wondered if anyone would understand what she was saying. He looked around, and the students and teacher were looking at her like she was crazy. Nick had to meet her; he was always fascinated with someone who was from his own home country.

After the teacher had moved on to the next question and ignored Bastille, Nick leaned forward and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hey. Hey! Where in England are you from?" He whispered in his own thick British accent.

[Bastille]

“hm?” Bastille had returned to reading her book when she felt the light tap come upon her shoulder. She dipped her head back to see who it was and then with a sigh she sat back up straight. For a second it seemed as if she was ignoring him before she finally turned and said in a rather flat and bored tone.

“ Bathe, though I was born in Lincolnshire…I move a lot so I also lived in London and Derbyshire for a while” she said with a straight as-a-matter-of-fact tone. She then turned back to her book seemingly not interested. She looked back at him over her shoulder slightly, not caring if the teacher heard (she hated Bastille anyway). “you?”

[Nicolas Constantine]

The excitement drained from Nick's face from the tone he received from the girl. She acted as if she wanted to forget the place she came from, and not be reminded of it. But then, when she turned back around and asked him, he got excited again.

"Well, I never moved around like you did, but I was born and raised in London." he said proudly with a smile.

"What family are you from?"

Nick had no idea the past this girl had, and the British were usually very proud of their bloodline, so it was just natural to ask when he met someone as strongly English as he was. Or so he thought...

[Bastille]

She had recently (and probably luckily for the rather peppy kid behind her) come to terms with her past. Her crimson eyes studied her book a moment before she answered. However she kept firmly, from turning around in her seat to face him. This was going to be awkward…telling one who lived in London she was indeed 14th in line for the throne of England the dowager duchess of Lincolnshire due to the tragic deaths of her family recently. Though tragic people viewed them to be, those people deserved what they got and more. She was no Mary Magdalene so this revenge was quite welcome, since when she gave her shot at it she pitied them to much to kill them herself.

“Cunninghams…House of Lincolnshire…” she said trying to keep the fact she was practically royal a secret. It would be troublesome if others knew of her considerable wealth (actually kept safe for future use, rest donated away), and then sought to befriend her because of it. But it was true, she was rather prideful of being British…in a sense that her rival was indeed French. But she wasn’t eager to point out her lineage. Her accent did that enough.

[Nicolas Constantine]

Nick stared at the back of her head with wide eyes. This was getting interesting, as Nick knew exactly what that meant. He had only been out of the loop in England for a few weeks now, ever since he moved to the U.S. He made sure to whisper because he knew she didn't want anyone hearing this.

"You mean 15th in line for the crown?"

Nick knew these things because his father would tell him the latest royal gossip all the time. Plus his father knew a lot of royalty from being a popular music engineer back in London. It was possible he could have met this girl when he was much younger and not even know it.

[Bastille]

“no, 14th…my younger brother is 15th…though I suppose being of official title and of male gender that would put me in 15th…regardless”

She muttered a bit peeved at this statement of fact but not at him. She looked at him and raised a brow critically. Why would this kid want to know so much about her? Was it merely pride in being a fellow Englishman or was it curiosity…she really couldn’t tell. Either way she smirked and looked at him full. She hadn’t realized someone even sat behind her until five minutes ago.

“how do you know this?”

[Nicolas Constantine]

Nick smiled. Now she was interested in speaking to him. He spoke in a know-it-all tone.

"Welllll, my father is an esteemed music engineer and knows famous musicians who are in the know-how. And he doesn't shut up about the royal gossip and such, so naturally, I know everything about it."

At the last thing he said, he leaned forward and smirked in sly manner that said "I know who you are". Nick was prideful, but his curiosity peaked his patriotism any day.

"So what is one of the Cunningham daughters doing in a place like this!?" he mocked.

[Bastille]

Her own smirk widened. This boy was curious, and curiosity killed the cat. But alas, satisfaction brought it back. She leaned over her seat.

“I presume you heard of the massacre about a month ago? Well now that they are dead I was finally put back into the family, however…years before I was adopted by another family…it’s a long pity party of a story and im sure you heard nothing about it since my family paid over billions to to press to keep it a secret. They where determined to have me back…red eyes are the trait in our family that only the true heirs can have, or so my superstitious bastard of relatives always say…so despite me leaving I was put in the will,…but I handed it no problem to my brother. He’s doing a fine job” she said now balancing a pencil on her nose with an erase on top. She seemed rather determined to hold it for at least minuet, and less determined to get into the specifics of her sob story of a life. Besides, everyone here seemed to have one.

[Nicolas Constantine]

As Bastille leaned forward, Nick noticed her eyes change to a deep crimson red as the light reflected off them. They were mesmerizing and creepy at the same time. Nick sat back in his seat, reclining and he shrugged.

"Nope, didn't hear about it. At that time, I was moving here, so all connections with the British press were cut off. I'm sorry to hear that, even though you don't seem that fazed by it at all..."

He watched her balance the pencil on her nose. A fun little trick, and it amused Nick. But, of course, he had to go and respond to it with a flirty retort, raised eyebrow, and a smirk.

"So is that your only talent, or is there a skill you're not telling me about?"

[Bastille]

“well if you want to see my talents, I could shove a hot iron rod up your ass or simply challenge you to a duel in the form of an ancient chivalrous art.” She said still balancing the pencil.

Of course this art meant she could show him a thing or two about sword fighting. Well in particular Fencing…she was still working on her kendo non stop. Her eyes flashed as she thought about having a legitimate duel, but only the upper class families in London had real use for still learning to fence. After all they spent their time learning everything and anything…it was Bastille who had taken an odd fascination with the old and honorable way of the sword. She pouted as her erased and pencil fell.

[Nicolas Constantine]

Nick laughed out loud in the middle of class. Challenge him? To a duel? Apparently she didn't know he had eleven years of dueling under his belt, let alone more than just the art of fencing.

"I didn't think you'd be that kinky, love." Nick winked at her and then leaned in closely to her, smirking, "I accept your challenge. Where and when?"

Nick's smile then became very sly and curious.

"And how about we make it interesting, with some stakes?"

He leaned back in his chair, awaiting to see Bastille's reply.

[Bastille]

Bastille could tell by his sudden cocky attitude he didn’t know her either. She was one of the best fencers on campus, and on a campus full of the worlds best fighters. Her eyes gleamed with the chance to show this punk what she was made of, and why one didn’t mess with a girl like her. However her expression remained only taught.

“meet me on the roof in fifteen minutes, British history is wasted on Americans…” she said with a sigh and stood up, gathering her things to walk to the roof. She told the teacher she was headed to the bathroom and was in need to keep her stuff with her. Bastille ignored the stakes questions…she would wait till they got to the fighting spot before she initiated any sort of stakes.

[Nicolas Constantine]

"You're on." he said before she made an excuse to leave the class. With her bag so she didn't have to come back.

Stupid teachers...

Nick would wait around 5 minutes before doing the same. The teacher looking like she could care less that the two British students just left her class, not to return.

He first went to his locker to deposit his bag, his hoodie, and his headphones, then heading to the roof.

He assumed it had been about 12 to 13 minutes since Bastille had left as he climbed the stairs to the roof. He knew exactly where the roof was, as he used it many times to take a nap.

He opened the steel door to the roof and took a step into the sunlight.

[Bastille]

Bastille was adjusting her wrist bands when he entered. She turned too look at him her stuff missing save for two swords at her side. Looks like she had made a run to her own locker. One was an old fashion musketeer rapier, with custom gold fashioning…it was very well maintained yet was obviously dulled out for school appropriate use. On the other hand the other sword was almost twice as long as the other, and was a Japanese kendo sword of a boken. Its long length made up for being blunt itself and it was obviously not her favorite from the rather new look it had. Of course she had only stolen it 6 months prior from her previous school.

He held up her fist and clenched it pulling the glove further on.

“so you mentioned stakes...lets hear them before I agree to them”


She had made the mistake of offering her own life as a stake before, she would not be so stupid as to do it again. no she would not bet anything that could hinder her advances later.