Alecross kept his eyes on his book. Sitting against a tree, he noted the confrontation of the group nearby. It wasn't really surprising to him in the least. The girls here were always after those they saw as cute. Some were more forward than others, some preferring to play the damsel in distress. Needing to be saved or sought after. He let his eyes flicker up to the group. The two guys he recognized as Ryuu and Levent. The girl was Amanda, simple enough. He noted another guy, one of the doctor students. Cassius was his name. They were getting a bit on his nerves, it was clear that there were attempts at flirting going on.

He turned his eyes back to his book, letting them quarrel. He himself was more of a soloist. It was not uncommon for him to be out here, enjoying a book or his art. Nor was it uncommon to see him on his own. Most people chose to avoid him, for various reasons. He wasn't really a people person, especially if those people were the happy go lucky type. Many chose to label him a bad boy, a pain in the ass, or other choice names. It was fine, he didn't need, nor want their approval. His eyes scanned over the words, taking in each line. An apple in his other hand, he lifted it to his lips. He took a bite out of the fruit, enjoying the taste and the fresh crunch behind it.

He was an art major. It wasn't anything fancy, but art was in his blood...literally. He was a scry. In many languages, a Scry referred to a psychic ability, one to tell the future through the use of a ball or something. His people were a bit more complicated than that, but few ever took the chance to get beyond the walls that were clearly put up. He stretched out one leg, keeping the other bent. The arm that held his book resting casually upon it. It was chilled out today, but it felt better to him. The air was crisp and clean, better than being cooped up inside of the building all day. He could head to class in awhile, but for now he had some time off. Time to relax and to himself.

His bag was placed next to him. On top of it, was a sketch pad. At the moment it was closed, a bag that had pencils, coal and more. He had been sketching earlier, though once more and more people had come, he had decided to put it up. He had two kinds of work. Those that were public, for class and for others to see. Then, there were those that were more private. Those that he enjoyed to do only for his own eyes. The thought of having prying eyes upon that kind of work, had caused him to put it up. He put more of himself into the work for his own personal desire. It had more heart and feeling. Not that any of his work was bad. Quite the opposite actually, it was incredible. He had gotten plenty of compliments from many people. He had even gotten a few inquiries about showing. He was not interested in such things right now, though at times he wondered why he was here.