A very worn down Tailor entered the classroom. The door did not slam shut behind them but it was a near thing. There was an aura that implied they were to be avoided if one valued one's limbs, and it was clear that they had not slept well, if they had slept at all. Their hair was only mostly set, and their vest was buttoned properly but they were without necktie.

Their eyes found the Devil, and their eye twitched. Their lip curled into something like a sneer, or maybe a snarl. Peligin was a monstrous color, but it wasn't one that could set a person aflame, tragically.

Their grip tightened on the strap of their bag and they signed in. Face set grimly, the Tailor walked past the Devil, ignoring him and the Maven, and dropped into a seat in the back row. They did not remove their daycoat as usual. They set their unopened bag onto the desk and glared at it like it had murdered their mother.