A brief meeting. {Michael}

[Kyana Galatea]

The devastatingly beautiful President was standing at the large, all-encompassing window of her office, arms crossed just below her chest, staring down at the Front Lawns. Her dark brown hair was swept over one shoulder and clipped in place, and she wore a very form-fitting white dress and bright red candy heels. A small silver necklace and a large red ring completed her outfit as she stood there; her back to the door.

"What is that girl up to?" She murmured to herself, watching an energetic brunette dart by, looking anything but innocent with that devious grin on her face. Kyana had never been overly mischevious... sure, she went through many phases, as many elves were prone to throughout their very long lifetimes, but mischief was not something Kyana lingered in for long.

Her sharp left ear twitched as she heard someone walking down the hall, and a lip curled as the footsteps grew nearer. She turned her head ever so slightly as the sounds stopped, and the uneven breathing of someone outside her door became more obvious with the lack of echoing in the halls.

"You can come in, Michael," she called softly, entertained.

{I can change this if you want.}

[Michael Mosley (AWAY)]

Michael gulped nervously, as he usually did whenever he went to see President Galatea. That's how he had to refer to her mentally, so as to not screw up and say something incredibly stupid. Which he was probably going to do anyway...

He opened the door and walked in, carrying a stack of papers under his arm.

"Just the usual reports and whatnot, nothing major," he lied smoothly. He hated having to come up with excuses, but it just seemed so necessary most of the time. He hefted the files he'd grabbed at random off his desk, hoping there was something there he was actually supposed to be talking about.

"I think there's something in here on Mathlida Beckett," he murmured, walking into the office, his eyes on the folder.

[Kyana Galatea]

Kyana smirked when she saw him open her door, the disorganized array of papers with him. She wouldn't read them, she'd probably just organize them for him and send them back, but she knew after he mentioned a particular student that she would probably search for that file. Oh wait... she could get him to do that for her.

"Mathilda Beckett," she repeated, looking back out to the Lawns then to Michael again, "would you mind pulling that one out for me?"

She walked over to her desk, sitting behind it, smoothly resting her arms on the clean open space it offered her. She turned her head ever so slightly to watch the Dean from the corner of her eye, being reminded as to why she loved being near him. His silly antics were an endless source of entertainment for her while she was around him.

[Michael Mosley (AWAY)]

"Right..." Michael looked down at the disorganized pile of papers. Beckett's file was undoubtedly in there somewhere. After all, he'd pulled her file specifically... He shifted, thumbing through a few pages.

"Burnheart, Brunch, Bamboozle..." he muttered, apparently he'd grabbed some rough sketches of inventions, and at least one badly done sketch of Kyana. At last, through some act of God, he managed to locate the appropriate file.

"Beckett!" he nearly crowed in triumph holding it up. He stood that way for several seconds, then, blushing, he walked it over to Kyana's desk, sliding it into place.

"There you go... I think she tried to blow up the girls' dorm... again..."

[Kyana Galatea]

Kyana waited patiently as he located the girl's file. When he at last pulled it out, she rose an eyebrow at his announcement.

"She's damaging school property?" She wouldn't be the first, but Kyana might have to make an example of the girl to ensure she was the last. Maybe she'd make that Mosley's assignment? Her tone was unimpressed and she frowned as she picked up the file from where Michael deposited on her desk.

"Thank you, Michael. You can leave the rest of those files here if you'd like, and I can have them returned to you by the end of the day," she wondered if he'd let her see those sketches. The elf also half-wondered what sort of story the young man would come up with to try and keep some of those files to save face.

She offered him a sweet smile as she opened Mathilda Beckett's file to examine the girl's record.