Noir wasn’t all too sure as to why he was in the library. He did say that he was going to pick up a book for his teammates since it would’ve been a good read for them. In fact, it was in his nature to help out a friend however he could. Unfortunately, Noir didn’t quite have the foresight to realize that he does not have the capabilities of finding the book he’s looking for. Now he’s in Beacon’s vast library with no form of assistance whatsoever as it seems like the attendant is currently out on a break. A quick sense of the aura also doesn’t reveal much either, with most of them out of the way and isolated. He didn’t have the heart to bother those people while they’re trying to do whatever they need to do in a library

Noir really didn’t have the will to return back to the dorm, but he really didn’t have anywhere else to go for the rest of the day. That’s why he’s now going to meander thoughtlessly throughout the library with his headphones on and music jamming. Of course, he occasionally bumps into a lot of things that he didn’t expect, but that’s just because they’ve been moved. As long as he takes it slow, he probably won’t be in too much pain.

While Noir’s at it, he might as well look like he’s doing something as he picks up random books and dropping them off elsewhere.

Artist got severe whiplash hearing the kid speak. He looked like a rather nice kid, playing up the quiet guy stereotype. If anything, she expected a softer voice from her. Hell, she would’ve even taken whispers. Instead, she ends up visibly confused by whatever Tiber just said as she pieces together what he just said. Normally, she’s much more generous on things like this, but damn did that surprise her. Reigning in all visible confusion, Artist starts moving her mouth as if she was going to speak but has no idea what to say. ”For…. School. Right.” She pauses again as she didn’t piece together what that meant after she tried to understand what the kid said. ”Ah. School! Huntsman right? Beacon maybe?”

Artist would pause again as she kinda awkwardly pats Tiber’s shoulders as she tries to voice her next comment albeit weakly. ”So uh. What’s up with the uh… pronunciation mangling you got there.” If Artist was anything, she’s straight to the point.

Feeling Lyssa apprehend the meal in his hands, Noir considers the question she asked. Noir wasn’t too comfortable with what she’s asking, but it wasn’t like he was uncomfortable either. It’s like sharing your capabilities with your teammates so that they can function the best they can, though he supposes that the team is already quite dysfunctional… With what seems like a shrug, Noir would answer in a bland tone. ”Well, to begin with, colors are nonexistent and I usually get the barest details of what I see.”

Noir sort of makes what seems like investigative gestures towards Lyssa’s face, almost like he would touch her face, though definitely respecting her boundaries. ”Like… Like…” Noir frowns in frustration as he decides to take it out on the poor ingredients he’s using for the smoothie, quickly returning to the kitchen. Cleaning and cutting strawberries and bananas, Noir would continue to struggle to formulate the exact details of his ‘sight’. ”Like, it’s difficult to tell much from someone’s face. Sure I can see some of the facial structure, but I don’t…” How can he tell someone that when he looks into people’s eyes with his semblance, all he sees is empty eye sockets? Noir would shudder as he remembered the horrors that came with his ‘sight’. The first time Noir used his semblance, it almost gave him nightmares just from how… empty, everything felt with his sight. It’s almost like being blind but not. Noir would pause as he decides to branch off into something else in the topic since it’s getting slightly too uncomfortable for him. ”It’s like using your aura to probe, and you just get slightly detailed outlines I suppose. It’s hard to put into word.”

Well. Iron’s ruse had been easily revealed, though he wasn’t too surprised that it was. Deciding to finally stop acting like a lovesick dolt, Iron returns to his blank expression to properly converse with the two. However, it quickly returned to something out of character for him as Iron would bring up the hand that held Isabelle’s hand close to his face. Flexing it open and close as if considering something, Iron would intensely concentrate on the feelings he had gotten. Almost under his breath, Iron would voice his forbidden thoughts instead of continuing any form of normal conversation.

”Hm… how delicate.”

Without context, it sounds extremely strange. With context, it still sounds strange but at least Iron’s reasoning was clear. Iron always struggled with things that required a finer touch when it came to his projects, and usually Iron would just brute force it or take extensive lengths for it to not get in the way. However… Isabelle’s hand was a mixture of being soft yet firm, presumably from years of hard work and combat. Iron would sincerely consider recruiting Isabelle for a few of his projects.

Though, for what Isabelle and Ayaka sees, it’s just Iron being shocked about what Isabelle’s hand felt like. What a loser.

Noir felt conflicted. He was filled with joy, enough to put a little pop in his steps. Noir never felt so happy that someone thought he was actually competent! On the other hand, it was completely for the wrong reason. Hell, Noir was tempted to keep it that way because he wouldn’t have the heart to deal with being labelled as “a blind guy” again. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the heart to leave Lyssa in her own self-deceptions about his capabilities either. Well. Noir is just going to have to suck it up. While cooking. With dangerous objects.

”Well… Not exactly.” Noir awkwardly coughs as he goes to voice his thoughts. ”See, my semblance, it strains me. I usually get nasty headaches, sometimes even worse.” The sizzling of the bacon quickly becomes the only thing that can be heard until Noir speaks again, much more weakily as he voices the next constraint. ”It’s not complete sight either…”

Whatever sadness Noir had left, it was gone. Noir hisses as he nearly cuts himself with the knife he was using, before moving to start distributing the meats into the tortillas. Quickly shuffling around, Noir evenly distribute the meats, then some guacamole and sour cream. Lastly, Noir sprinkles the vegetables and cheese he cut up into the burrito. Wrapping it up nicely so that nothing leaks, there are now three plates of burritos! He wraps up those burritos in a foil and puts them into a brown paper bag as he grabs the plate and sort of turns to Lyssa’s direction. Slowly walking to make sure he’s at the right place, Noir offers the plate.

”Want me to make anything to drink? I can make smoothies or…” He might as well. Noir had more things to be cooked and prepared for his team, so it would be easy to knock out any drink requests.

Ah. That’s good. Noir was hoping that Lyssa would appreciate his work especially since he really wanted to gift her with his cooking. However, finding that he was Lyssa’s favorite put a really big smile on his face as he turns towards where Lyssa would be. ”That’s very sweet of you, even if it probably doesn’t much!” Then Noir pauses, because maybe it did mean much. ”Or maybe it does. Hahaha….” Realizing he should probably be cooking, Noir returns to the table regardless of how loud Lyssa was being.

Cleanly moving the diced veggies to the side with his knife, Noir would return to the stove as he quickly combines the two meats while cutting and mixing them as best he could. Adding a tad bit amount of cheese and some sauces and seasonings he picked up, Noir would use his spatula to continue mix them together while he finishes up. Since it was basically menial work and just evenly heating up everything, Noir would return to the conversation.

”I see. Well. I don’t. But although boring, lectures are very important!” Noir sort of waves his spatula towards Lyssa and what could possibly be seen in a scolding manner. Although, it would quickly return to the pan so Noir can continue doing his thing. ”Since you’re wondering, I’m making some burritos since it’ll be easier to eat up for lunch. Or right now since it seems that you are rather hungry!”

Placing the pan down, and quickly moving over to the tortilla, touching it to make sure that it’s the right texture he wants, Noir removes it and places it separate plates so that he can prepare them for the team. Thankfully, cooking was his expertise and no blindness can stop him! Probably! ”If you want, I can continue to cook for you for any meal of the day. I’ll even pack it as if it’s lunch if necessary. Or not. Depends on if you think the food sucks. Or if you think a blind guy shouldn’t be cooking.” The end almost sounded a tad bit negative, with some words being said weakly, though overall it seems pretty normal.

Noir whistled a little tune as he made his way around the dorm’s sort of private yet small kitchen. It wasn’t heavy duty, but it served his purpose as he elegantly “danced” around the kitchen. Well. Not really a dance but more of a sense of rhythm and elegance than actual dancing. Regardless, Noir didn’t really mind since he’s pretty much alone in the dorm right now and he’s cooking up some food for his teammates since they’ll be hopping on by later. Who knows, he might even pack it up as if he was parent sending them off else with their lunch. Plus, it would do Noir some good to get familiar with what he’s given so that he doesn’t end up messing up when cooking. Twisting knobs here and there, Noir listens for the familiar cackle of the stove as he touches where the heat sources would be. With a nod, Noir would take a few minutes to feel out the levels of temperature and mark their place on the knobs just so he knows.

With everything relatively ready, Noir would begin to lean on one foot with a hand to his chin as he thinks about what he should cook for his team. He could keep it relatively simple since it’s an entirely new area for him… Well, that seemed like the plan! Noir had gone grocery shopping earlier, so he carefully organized all his ingredients to keep track mentally and started to do his thing! Frying pan, cooking oils, laying out the bacon onto the pan as he began to mentally keep track of the time within his head. Another frying pan, more oils, this time with some good ‘ol ground beef, adding that onto the timer in his head. Once again, Noir would whistle as he starts to make sure that everything was going properly while he waits for the timer in his head to finish up.