Curse him, Kesali, curse his children, his love, his heart. Curse him with the wicked words, and damn him for judging you.

"I did not realize you were looking for a fight, Professor. I thought it was your objective to prevent one." Gale pushed the voices from his thoughts, but stood stiff and poised as Arthur had taught him. Gale had come to the school wild, and without the same perfected manners as many others, and struggled now between both worlds. He stood between his two selves, and tried to find a balance.

His Slytherian lover, and his well to do family had stripped him of his Romany heritage, and in doing so his family turned their backs on him. Now without either Gale felt as though he were swimming somewhere between. He really liked his outfit today,  and fingered the hem of his new shirt. It was one of the most elegantly brightly colored things he owned, and was to someone who grew up as poor as he did the silk was the same as gold.

"And is this why you decided to openly humiliate me in front of everyone else? If that is the case, Trishna I apologize. I apparently missed the memo stating we needed to look like over dressed pompous--" He stopped himself feeling that dragon inside his ribs clawing its way out. This wasn't the place for this, nor was it really like him. But he didn't understand--his hem was even sewn on his outfit which was rare.

Gale turned to walk away.

Tapendra raised his eyebrows at Ignan, half expecting Kesali to either break and literally run away or for the small man to explode at Ignan. Kesali chose the halfway point, it seemed, hissing half-heartedly at the both of them and looking ready to leave. Tapendra couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the man, however, and he was struggling to place exactly why.

Perhaps it was because he seemed so much like a student, in many ways.

Tapendra resisted the urge to ask when the hell a basic waistcoat and dress-shirt ensemble had become pompous, and found his hands behind his back again, his eyebrows staying raised. He glanced at Ignan, shrugging slightly.

But as Ignan thought to leave his colleagues to their long-running disagreement, Kesali found his voice and stopped being the mouse.

"I did not realize you were looking for a fight, Professor. I thought it was your objective to prevent one."

Tapendra raised his eyebrows at Ignan, saying nothing as Gale was directing his spite at Ignan.

"And is this why you decided to openly humiliate me in front of everyone else? If that is the case, Trishna I apologize. I apparently missed the memo stating we needed to look like over dressed pompous--"

Gale turned to walk away, seemingly not able to finish. Tapendra glanced at Ignan again, shrugging slightly.

"You are a curious one, Kesali." The Deputy Headmaster was puzzled, brows lowering over his older eyes. "Though, do engage your mind before you open your mouth in future. You're as bad as the students for spouting and regretting, so it seems." His slow, steady footsteps worked their way round to face the young professor and he gazed thoughtfully at him.

"I wasn't picking a fight, you seem a little confused. But, if you prefer to rant and rave at me than Tapendra, I am old enough and wise enough to smile and nod until your tantrum is through," His voice was steady, fatherly, but with an eyebrow raise, he concluded, "but whether I have the patience to waste the time is rather unlikely, isn't it now, Professor Kesali." The question was rhetorical.

Ignan stepped away, this time departing properly from the scene.

Gale stood there watching him with a bit of hatred in his only visible eye. A thousand old gypsy curses pooled on the edge of his lips, and he wanted very desperately to spit them out. He would have, had he not been on the better half of his mind. Gods, what had come over him? Just as he let the anger go he felt the air push through the halls with Ignan's departure, and felt the older Professor take his heart with him. He'd had it a while hadn't he? Gale wanted nothing more than to please the man, but that seemed impossible.

"Forgive me, Professor Trishna, I had thought you had told him about our disagreement in the woods, and that is why he was glaring so openly." Gale looked up at Tapendra (tall thing that one) rather wounded, and kept his voice low--submissive. "I didn't realize it was because I didn't meet his standards." Gale again spread out the edge of his pretty shirt, that he would take back to his room and burn. He'd had such a great weekend, and the lot of that seemed rather lost.

"If you will excuse me. I apparently desperately need to see Darian again."

Tapendra's eyebrows stayed raised, though at Ignan's dressing-down of Kesali, it was difficult not to smirk a little. Ignan had a rather amazing ability to make even the most inflated of egos feel small and deflated. Tapendra wondered how he did it - with a lot of practice, he assumed.

Tapendra nodded curtly at Kesali - neither accepting the apology or rebuking it. While he certainly appreciated the man's willingness to actually say he was sorry, the fact he'd only said it after Ignan had swooped down rather axed any effect it might have had. Evidently he was the sort to need a smack before he thought about his actions, Tapendra decided.

"Professor," he said, hands remaining behind his back. The man's comment about running off to Darian was...well, hopefully he'd turn up better dressed, after he recovered from the sticker shock that usually followed seeing the price tag on Darian's work.

It was hard to bite down on his parting words, and in the end he chose not to. He'd turned to head to the tower, but he stopped, looking over his shoulder. His tone, which surprised even him, was genuinely nice - though not overly so. "I wouldn't worry about meeting Ignan's standards, Kesali. None of us do."

He unfolded his arms, rolling his sleeves up with a slight sniff. "Good day," he added, and walked off down the hallway.