Lissa smiles at El as she grabs her own seat, grabbing her assignment as well. "Thanks!" she says, grinning. "This is the knife assignment everyone gets where you need to be careful about tin and zinc, right?"

"I don't know, maybe it's some totally different knife assignment where if you swap zinc for tin it won't matter at all," muses El, peering at the assignment paper. "But better to be safe."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to be the one who messes everything up for everyone and gets gossiped about." Lissa reads through the instructions a few more times, since she doesn't have any experience with metalwork at all, unlike mixing things in lab.

"I'll get us crucibles and gloves, you get us mold stuff and wax, then we approach the sketchy metal pile together," says El, and she goes and gets them crucibles and gloves.

Lissa grabs the mold stuff and wax, maybe a bit more than they need, and hurries to drop it on the table. She nearly trips over her own feet, but manages to catch herself on the table's edge with a "whew."

"And now for the main ingredients!" she says, half to herself and half to El.

Oh, that kid has a vibe. It's - not exactly the vibe you'd expect from having murdered several other students for malia, it's subtle for that and any kid competent to make it subtle could also just turn it off. But anyone who has merely started on hamsters in the first week is also bad news. 

Frank sits down at her table, plays his fingertips across the tabletop. "Name?"

...senior? In the freshman shop section? "- who the hell are you?"

He gestures slightly with the power-sharer on his right arm. "I'm Frank. And you are -"

"I'm Galadriel. And your problem is...?"

"Galadriel. I see. My problem is, someone's going around murdering off the frosh. Got any idea who it is?"

"Let's see. Who've I seen who approaches freshmen in situations that are at all strange, maybe asks their names..."

"You happen to have stuck to the buddy system the first couple days of school? That'd be really convenient for you."

"Lissa, will you kindly tell this wanker that you've not seen me commit any murders. And for the rest of my time you can mostly account for me by asking Bobbie Draper. New Zealand."

Oh, is that what he meant. Lissa bristles slightly, her desire to protect one of the few friends she has here coming to the fore. "Nope!" says Lissa, emphatically slamming her hands on the table. "I've been with El in a bunch of classes and meals and she hasn't killed anyone at all! Why would you even think that?"

"Well," Frank says with slightly exaggerated slowness, "whoever's killing the freshmen is almost definitely doing it for malia, which gives you a vibe, and your bestie here? Has a vibe. And we've been unable to find the murderer so what we're doing now is just going to every freshman shop class and trying to account for every kid who seems even the slightest bit off, so we can catch the murderer. The murderer isn't going to go after me, and I'd love to be in the gym right now instead, so you could stand to cool it a bit, okay?"

"Do most people you accuse of murder and their friends take this like you're asking them to pass the salt?"

"Well, see, a lot of people want us to catch the murderer! So they're glad we're on that."

"Thank you, O self-appointed heroic detective lacking only a deerstalker hat! Your skill at profiling is second only to the good people at bloody Heathrow! I tremble in awe! It would be the highlight of my life, Frank, if I may be so bold as to call you Frank, if you were to search my room for guinea pigs!"

Frank stands up and leaves.

"Wanker," she mutters, and she stalks toward the supplies for metals.

"Wow, that was rude," mutters Lissa as she follows. "Are people always so rude if they think you're being a malificer?"

"If they think they'd win in a fight, probably."

Oria Duccini walks briskly in from the doorway. This needs attention. Frank confronting someone...

Oria can see El, and that is a hell of an aura for a freshling.

But. She has her spell up. And that says... nothing. Not a speck.

"Wow, kid, you have the weirdest aura I have ever seen, and I live with an enclave of maleficers."

"I hope it brings you joy. What do you want."

"Can you do a spell? Smallest thing you have should be fine, I just need to see your mana moving a bit. I know more about maleficers than Frank and I want to confirm this spell is working right before I tell him you're a false positive."

"Smallest thing I have doesn't need mana," she mutters. "Are you going to pay me back for it? I don't adore pushups, you see, or they wouldn't work so well."

Wow, she's bitchy. Would having an aura like that make Oria that bitchy? Maybe if she didn't have the 'clave who were used to it. Still obnoxious.

"I'll cover... what you can make in an hour. Trade it for your name."

"Did Frank not say? I'm Galadriel."

"New York doesn't actually like working with maleficers, even the tame, stable, well-mannered kind like my family. Galadriel what?"

"Higgins."

Oria raises an eyebrow. "Ah, not a comparison I'd want to draw attention to, either. Sure, do whatever, I'll pay you back immediately."

"Yes, aren't I just the spitting image," growls El, and she sweeps together the items for her and Lissa's molds, glances at the assignment sheet's spell instructions, and make-and-mends the both of them into place. She shoves Lissa's over to her.

Lissa takes them and gives Oira a look that's slightly less of a glare than Frank got.

"Wow, you really are spotless. Maybe even strict mana? Well, you're clearly not a suspect, sorry for the bother. I'll do my best to get that fact spread around."

She extends a hand to transfer mana, gathering about a fourth more than El actually spent.

"I am," says El, taking it without particularly remarking on the extra. "Strict mana."

"Huh. I suspect some of my enclave would love to ask you questions about your aura. But I'll leave you be, I should go rein in Frank." She gives a polite nod and turns away.

"Well," El remarks to Lissa, "that went well, in the sense that it saved about as much time as it cost." She knocks on the edge of her mold and picks up her wax to start carving.

"Well, that's a relief." Lissa grabs her equipment as well, working somewhat more slowly as she tries to figure out the best way to carve out a knife shape. She might glance over at El's work a few times to get some idea of how to do hers.

She's welcome to watch but it's not like El is especially good at this beyond knowing that you cut away from yourself and that knives have a pointy end.

They can cut their awkward mold shapes together, then. Lissa is just happy to have company for it.

"Ah, you met the charming girl," Frank says to Oria.

"I did. She's completely clean, not a speck of malia."

" - huh. She's - I'm not just imagining the vibe, right, are there other things that give you that vibe -"

"You're not imagining it and there isn't anything else I've heard of that does. It's very weird."

"How sure are you?"

"Pretty damn sure. I'd be a little less surprised than learning you were a maleficer but not much less."

"All right. Not sure the vibe will hold her back as much as the personality, but if she's not our killer it's not our business. Thank you."

"Happy to. I want the real killer found as much as anyone."