#get the founding of the aguefort adventuring academy in there too

[thecryptidzenith]

How I would love to see your take on Kalina and Landrin Lier back when they worked together. 🖤

I would also love to see this. Unfortunately, because Landrin is so far removed from canon, there's really no point in making their story fan fic. The worldbuilding of what Spyre looked like back is pretty sparse (though I think in terms of the timeline, Landrin's fall coincided with the rise of Solace, which could be fun to play with. You get (former?) Queen Alexandria, and her adventuring party, including a young Arthur Aguefort and the previous Elven Oracle dating. Possibly a young Eugenia Shadow as well based on some conversations I've seen around Tumblr, though I think any Shadow would be a worthwhile addition.) It's certainly something--and I could honestly see something like what D20 did with the Ravening War fitting in here--but I would not consider the narrative scaffolding around them sufficient to build fanfic on it, if that makes sense.

I have, however, been playing around with the idea of writing a proper novel about a child of immigrants in their colonizer's homeland reconnecting with her heritage by summoning the last surviving angel of her people's dead god while pursuing a career in the Fantasy CIA. Which is not exactly the same thing--the protagonist wouldn't be a cleric or a healer of any kind, but instead a standard field agent who progresses up the ranks. The angel would an angel and not a plague, and would start out very idealistic--but the root of this concept definitely started with Landrin and Kalina.

If you're wondering if no longer being constrained by Fantasy High's canon would lead to a different ending, the answer is no. But boy would the journey to get there be fun.

[mulligans-tavern]

https://www.tumblr.com/doomed-to-wanda/747617028751474688?source=share

Inspiration above

TW death, grief

---

Five Funerals

They lose Fig first.

Comes with the territory when you're an archdevil - somebody's always looking to take your spot. "Don't worry about it," she says, opening a Planeshift to the recording studio. "It's just the usual rebellious fiends. Icythorz and Bolhondrus and the rest. I'll be back before you know it." She looks resplendent in black leather, the Unfaithable Bass slung across her back, riding the fiery Daymare surrounded in jagged red shards.

Adaine knows before everyone else, but can't believe the vision to be true until she learns that Ayda is gone, too. She scratched every memory of Fig out of her notes before starting over - it was too much pain to bear. The five of them know how it feels.

---5---

It's a few years before they take another hit. Another mission to the Mountains of Chaos, another world-ending calamity to be stopped because Who Else Is Going To Save The World? A small misstep, a miscalculation (six where there should be five, they're only five now) and suddenly the routine becomes deadly.

Riz takes the fall. "It's easier this way," he says, in his last moments. "I'll still see you." And he does. Agent Gukgak Jr., now, with some extra responsibility. But he still comes by. Sometimes. Every so often. Often enough.

---4---

Kristen is next. Only one thing could bring down the most gifted cleric of the age - sacrificing herself for her friends. Third time's the charm when it comes to death, it turns out.

Gorgug is the most hopeful that she'll come back, that she'll find a way again, like in the Nightmare Forest. But Adaine knows this is the end. Even Arthur Aguefort agrees. He quotes Alanis Morissette at her funeral. The followers of Cassandra pull out all the stops.

Adaine, Fabian, and Gorgug have their own ceremony at Ashgrove, next to the Gukgak family plot. It's quiet. Bucky cries into Ragh's shoulder. Aelwyn, Jawbone, and Gertie collect flowers. Tracker stays for a few minutes to say goodbye.

---3---

They quit adventuring after Kristen's funeral. And they don't lose anyone else for a long time. Riz still visits, every few years. They talk about the good old days, how silly it was that Baron was so terrifying when at the end of the day it was an honest conversation that finally did him in. There's rumours that Kristen has ascended to goddesshood herself - Adaine doesn't buy it. She's not the type to be revered.

They come out of retirement for the only reason they would - to bring back one of their own. They finally found Fig's soul, trapped in a ruby in the darkest levels of the Abyss. They can't ask anyone to come with them - it's too dangerous, it's too personal. It's missions like this that kill people.

And when it's all over, when Adaine carries Fabian's burnt, unconscious body back to Morded Manor, they have another funeral to plan.

Gorbag and Roz have already passed, and Wilma and Digby are too old to make preparations, so it falls to Jawbone to organize it. He knows they don't want a lot of fanfare. It's at Ashgrove again, just Adaine and Fabian and the Thistlesprings, and Aelwyn and Ragh. Sandra-Lynn is back in Solace - she sends Adaine a heartfelt text saying she appreciates the invitation, but she can't bring herself to come.

Riz doesn't show for the ceremony - he's desperately scouring the heavenly realms, trying to make sure Gorgug ended up somewhere he wasn't afraid of. Orcish heaven doesn't have him, he reports, and neither does Cassandra.

If he's trapped in the Abyss with Fig, at least they have each other.

---2---

Adaine sees Fabian's death the night of Gorgug's funeral. She needs to prepare, she tells herself. She knows it's going to be hard. She needs all the time she can get, and she needs to know which goodbye will be their last.

They grow old together. Not romantically, although some speculate. Fabian becomes a multiclass advisor at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. Adaine works in Bastion City as an archivist, with occasional trips to Fallinel for Oracle services. They go for vacations sometimes, but never for too long. The memories find them no matter where they go. Sometimes Adaine wishes she could be Ayda, scrape off the old wounds and start fresh. Arthur talks about her sometimes. She's never had the same spark as that one lifetime, he says.

Adaine watches the wrinkles grow beside Fabian's eye, watches his hair turn grey, watches the Future of Dance become its Mentor. He trades his Battlesheet for a cane-sword, then a regular cane. He takes to wearing the Gregorian necktie to classes, no matter how much it clashes with his outfit. They both wonder how many of their own teachers lost party members.

Adaine holds Fabian's wrinkled hand on his deathbed, in his old room at Seacaster Manor. He grins, flashes the same perfect teeth as on the first day of Freshman Year. "Bet you didn't see this one coming, did you?"

"I did," she whispers, tears streaming down her young elven face. "I knew it would end like this. But I always hoped it would last forever."

They're the last words he hears.

It's not the first funeral Adaine organizes. All the Bad Kids held one for Buddy Dawn, back in high school. She and Fabian worked together on the services for Jawbone, Ragh, and Chungledown Bim - who finally caught up to Fabian in both of their old ages. It is the first funeral she has to organize alone.

Some of Fabian's students attend. Arthur Aguefort gives a short speech, and a few students hear the story of Kalvaxus' return for the first time. Adaine sits with Aelwyn in the front row, a few seats down from Hallariel. Gilear records the service to show Telemaine later. Riz is somewhere deep undercover - he maybe hasn't even heard yet.

She always knew she'd be the last. She didn't expect it to hurt so much.

---1---

Adaine stumbles through a few years before she finds herself again. They pass so fast without a mortal lifespan to hold up against them. She drifts between Fallinel and Bastion City for the most part, with occasional return trips to Elmville. Aelwyn always has a place for her to stay. Seacaster Manor was turned into a dormitory for Aguefort students who needed a place to study, or sleep, or stay away from home for a while. Tracker converted Morded Manor into a temple/bed-and-breakfast for worshipers of Galicaea. Strongtower Luxury Apartments was demolished soon after Fabian started teaching at Aguefort. It seems like everything is different now.

Adaine visits Leviathan once, on a whim. The Compass Points hasn't changed a bit. On a chance meeting in the stacks, Ayda looks at her with a spark of familiarity.

"Adaine Abernant?"

"Yes... you remember me?"

Ayda shakes her head. "There are mentions of you in my journals. I leave journals for when I regenerate-"

"I know. I remember."

Ayda looks intrigued. "I wrote that you were a great wizard, and a good friend. I hear from other sources that you are the Elven Oracle. Perhaps you can shed some light on why the pages around yours are torn to shreds or redacted to the point of unreadability?"

Adaine places a gentle hand on Ayda's shoulder. "I don't know if you'd want that. You lost someone you cared about, so much that you thought it was better to forget her than to bear the pain of losing her."

Ayda considers this. "Is it better to forget?" she asks. "Would you give up the memories of those you lost, in order to keep a logical mind?"

"No. Not for anything."

"Then we should talk."

Adaine smiles. "I'd like that."

---2---

*end

Thanks for reading all the way through! I wrote most of this at 2am and the conclusion the next morning. Please take a reblog to share with your friends or drop a like to let me know you enjoyed - or hated - the story!

Ask me anything about it, please, I love discussing these kinds of theories!!!

[ratgrinders]

anyways ivy embra post because on god if she wont get the scenes in canon ill imagine it myself

Ivy and Oisin were friends in middle school. Oisin was still scrawny and hadn't had his growth spurt yet and Ivy hadn't yet gotten her braces taken off. They meet each other in some group project or club or whatever, the setting doesn't matter, but what happens is you have these two children with the inherent shittiness of middle schoolers who maybe haven't had the easiest time making friends because their passive aggressiveness is too aggressive, their barbs not hidden. And they act the same way with this new, kind of nerdy looking stranger they meet and find a kindred spirit. All of a sudden you're 12/13 years old with an outlet for all the shittalking about your classmates you want. You stick together like glue, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of you two because they all fuckin suck anyway, and you finally found someone who isn't a wuss and can give as good as they take.

Oisin gets better at hiding it though, being raised by a long family line of evil dragons who have had to hide their connections in plain sight will do that to you. Ivy never lost that edge around her though.

The first day of classes Freshman Year at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy, Oisin's met with this group of randos, they seem competent enough, the tall sad one seems nice enough if a bit of a pushover and the small one with the ponytail seems to have her entire academic career planned out already. She's intent on the name the High Five Heroes, it's a pun, get it? Because there's five of them. But Oisin won't go anywhere without his best friend. He pulls Ivy over, and Ivy isn't having the best luck finding a party (she insults them saying why would she want to join a party with any of these losers anyway, when they're put off by one pointed comment too many). Oisin tells the others they could do well with a fighter, that they're sticking together. The tall one, the gnome, and the kobold don't seem to mind (or don't care), but the halfling seems to have swallowed a lemon. "Well, there's six of us now which throws off the entire point of the name, but that's fine! I don't care!" (she's stubborn and doesn't want to change it).

Ivy and Kipperlilly clash CONSTANTLY. Kipperlilly's specific brand of Type A nerdiness and uptightness clashes horrifically with Ivy's specific attitude of not giving a fuck and chronic need to get under people's skin. And yet, Kipperlilly's barely concealed rage and passive aggression leads that same realization Ivy had back in middle school, of having finally found a kindred spirit. If there's two things Kipperlilly and Ivy have in common, it's their initial impression driving most people away, and their need to externalize this jealousy and bad feelings as hatred and disdain for others. They LOVE gossiping. Ivy's always down to be a hater.

Corsica Jones, the fighter teacher, sees Ivy come in on the first day of classes, bow in hand, and is immediately reminded of the sister she lost, who is still missing. Every time she trains Ivy on her stance, on basic hand-to-hand, she's reminded of the times she taught her sister the very same things. She's worried, because Ivy always seems so closed off and not very engaged, so full of rage. Unfortunately Corsica's attempts to reach out and forge a connection are stopped in their infancy when instead the barbarian teacher takes an interest in her. "Well, at least she has support from someone on the faculty, even if it isn't me."

It's Oisin that kills her. They always go off as a pair anyway, and Oisin may have been acting off recently but who is she to judge a bit of anger. But a quick stab to the back, one Choice later, and all Ivy can think about is rage.

After the Mountains of Chaos, Ivy's disdain becomes Venomous. Suddenly its not fun gossip but outright Hatred, its saying words maximized for cruelty directly to the person's face, because there's a kind of sick vindication in hurting the people who rejected you for so long, even if they may not deserve it. She and Kipperlilly don't get along anymore, snide comments and petty jabs devolving into screaming matches and insults. She proposes the name Rat Grinders with Oisin, because her stubbornness at refusing to change the name isn't endearing anymore, and there are six of them, did you oppose me joining the party that badly? It's a bit funny to see her so worked up over a stupid party name, that kind of earnest childish straightforwardness of the High Five Heroes makes her gag. The Rat Grinders is a funny inside joke, and Ivy is not comfortable engaging anymore without that layer of irony. For some reason, it doesn't feel good in the same way to hurt Kipperlilly like this, it just leave a knot of frustration that rankles in her stomach, because why does she care so much??

When Lucy dies, she doesn't remember much. She remembers the realization at the choice she'd made, and the rage that followed. Afterwards, though, was a deep all consuming bitterness. Of course she wasn't coming back, little miss goody two shoes never had any intentions of following through and left the rest of us with the fallout. She never expected otherwise, and she refuses to mourn someone who did not give enough of a shit about them to come back. She doesn't think about how Lucy helped her bleach her hair, how she braided Lucy's in return. How Lucy's birthday was coming up and she bought her new clothes, how that bag will stay unopened in her room now.

When she dies on the floor of her high school gymnasium, desperately defending every callous insult she's made with her dying breath, her last moments are spent locking eyes with her best friend, who is looking on in horror. She thinks back to a similar scenario, last year, when that same friend saw her dying and did nothing. She thinks back to them in seventh grade, trading childish insults without any real weight. And then she doesn't think anything at all.

[sillygeesedogaystuff]

I wanted to delve deeper into my last post so here I go:

Adaine- twilight sparkle

The element of magic herself, this one is pretty obvious and self explanatory so I’ll be brief. Adaine being a wizard obviously links to twilight being a unicorn and then an alicorn (which can represent Adaine being the elvin orical.) Twilight found the true magic of friendship when moving to ponyville which translates to when Adaine met the bad kids on her first day at the Aguefort adventuring academy. Adaine and Twilight were both pitted against their older siblings (although twilight and Shining armour’s was much more light hearted) both have a pet, Owlowiscious being twilights (although I guess you could also count spike) and Boggy being Adaine’s. Both characters are the top of their respective classes and have to work hard throughout the series to gain more magical abilities. To sneak my favourite character from MLP in here too, starlight glimmer can be seen as a few different characters in fantasy high. One consideration is Kipperlily if they reformed her instead of well murdering her. Adaine HATED kettlechip Crispycream but I have no doubt they could have gotten along if the bad kids didn’t already have a track list of killing their enemies, and Adaine has strongly proven no matter what she has been put through by someone she will try her hardest to help them. Which bring me onto our favourite older sister Aelwyn. I couldn’t not mention her okay… clearly starlight is not twilights sister but she is one of the greatest unicorns in Equestria and Aelwyn is incredible at magic specifically curses (I think.) I think about that scene with Adaine and Aelwyn in the forest of the nightmare king at least twice a week and it has similar aspects to when twilight stopped trying to fight starlight and instead showed her the reality of everything and succeeded in reforming her. I won’t get into the similarities now however. After everything her sister has done to her, Adaine always knew it wasn’t all Aelwyn fault and it was her parents who were the evil ones. But back to the point at hand.  both twilight and Adaine get the most joy in being with their friends and helping them as much as they can.

Fig- Rainbow dash

As the element of loyalty this deserves a bit more consideration. Scared of what people may really think of her, Fig contains a lot of rainbow’s qualities. Let’s talk about the element of loyalty. Fig shows many times that she is loyal to her friends. I cannot give any specific examples currently (at 1am while I am writing this) but from memory fig proves countless times that her friends mean everything to her and loyalty is a massive part of her personality. NOT ONLY THIS. But fig is described multiple times as a german shepherd who are one of the most loyal and courageous dogs out there. Rainbow dash also is clearly seen to be a German shepherd often offering to go first when confronting the villains or guarding places for the other pony’s to explore. Rainbow may not have magic like fig but she is one of the strongest flyers in equestria. Fig obviously doesn’t have wings so that causes a slight bump in the road. HOWEVER. If I may bring in this little thing called equestria girls, rainbow dash plays guitar and is the lead of the band she created. Sound familiar? Fig plays bass guitar and is in the band Fig and the cig figs which she created and is the lead singer for. Now I know equestria girls isn’t cannon in the friendship is magic show however I’m counting it and I don’t care what you say <3. Rainbow and fig are both confident and outgoing however both are afraid of what their friends and everyone else thinks about them. Both have a lot hidden deep down inside of them which only their friends can help with. Fig is an only child (excluding Fabian being nearly her stepbrother) like rainbow dash. Rainbow does take scootaloo under her wing as almost an honorary sister. Although there isn’t anything cannon about fig having a similar relationship with someone (I don’t think) I see many head cannons about fig having a sisterly like relationship with a younger tiefling. These two characters have the most important thing in common though… they are both super cool.

Kristen- pinky pie

The element of laughter. Well we can know one thing for sure, Ally Beardsley is definitely the element of making all of us laugh. But seriously pinky and Kristen are very similar personality wise. Character relationships wise all I can really say is that they both have siblings. I guess a rock farm isn’t a cult buuuutttt it definitely wasn’t where pinky was meant to be just like his Kristen wasn’t meant to worship hello. The element of laughter plays a big part in why Kristen is still seen as a positive protagonist. In junior year Kristen turned slightly bitchy towards the ratgrinders but her positivity while being bitchy made the interactions very funny. Now Ally has a MASSIVE aid to why Kristen is the element of laughter. Any Nat20 rolled by them is gonna be either the funniest thing in the series or the most insane (often both) and often it’s a tricky time working out what’s Ally being Ally and what’s Kristen. It’s not hard to consider insanity throughout junior year, one example of this being spontaneously running for president and giving speeches to anyone even if they weren’t even voting AS WELL as the shrimp jump which she got fig to do in disguise. Obviously pinky pie hasn’t done these exact things however a shrimp jump doesn’t seem highly implausible for pinky to do (secretly rainbow would do it) IT ALL FITS. Annnndddd if I may remind you of the MLP episode where pinky pie duplicated herself so there were A LOT of pinky pies running around. Possibly a little bit of a stretch but K2 is a clone of Kristen. Being british and all also means she isn’t an exact replica of Kristen herself. Pinky pie is also the only character (at least out of the main six) that is self aware of being in a show by making predictions or statements only the audience know or breaking the forth wall and directly talking to the viewers. coming back once again to Equestria girls where she predicts multiple times the events in the pony world basically proving she is a psychic.

Fabian- rarity

The element of generosity is in my opinion one of the most interesting to discuss. Now I have to admit my main reasoning for this pairing is that they are both posh!!! I mean come on… Fabian is an only child (not counting unborn half baby sibling) with a pirate as a father and a mother from Fallinel and the greatest fencer in the world. While we know sweetie Belle is rarity’s younger sister and we really don’t have much information about rarity’s parents although from the clip I rewatched I got the sense that they aren’t too similar to their daughters. Fabians passion is dance whole rarity is all about the fashion. However, there is something to be said for how Fabian is around his friends. I find generosity to be much more complex than the other elements so since this is SUPPOSED to be an overview I will only touch the tip of the iceberg. Fabian represents generosity at many points throughout all three years with the bad kids.A less straightforward example is when all of the bad kids were offered a place on the owlbears even though Fabian tried extremely hard to get on the team only to fail on his first day. Now there are many instances where Fabian is generous however it’s reaching 2am and my mind is drawing a blank to specific situations. Fabian is a proud and outgoing young man looking to leave his name in the history books, Fabian is very concerned with appearances and social status, and can sometimes be very snobby. SOUND LIKE ANYONE TO YOU? rarity is proud and outgoing and if she hasn’t made a mark with her fashion brand I don’t know what could!! She admires looks but will sacrifice her perfect features for someone else buuuuttt in certainly some circumstances she can be a tad snobby.

Riz- applejack

So here we go with the element of honesty. Ironic because I have to be honest here, I already fit the others to everyone else that Riz was left with applejack BUT WE CAN MAKE THIS WORK. firstly and a pretty on the nose point: both their dads are dead!! At least we can infer applejacks dad is dead along with her mother and I KNOW Riz still has his mother. Riz is an only child while applejack has two siblings and in general a large family. Okay okay, so character relationships don’t have my back! Let’s have a look at the actual element. Honesty is a difficult trait to compare when a character isn’t specifically created with the soul idea of honesty and even then you have to find a way to create a character who follows their own morality while not sounding incredibly mean, still applejack is one of the best characters. Now Riz Is not on the same level of honesty as applejack (he lied about being in a relationship so much he lied it into existence) but he has proven he cares about his friends just as much as applejack. Riz is often concerned about fig and Kirsten’s academics since he is very academically strong like Adaine. And yet again I know applejack is on the physically stronger side but she commonly takes notice of details the others miss out on liiikkkeeee Riz being a rogue. I honestly don’t have that much to talk about for Riz without going back over all three years of fantasy high and all MLP content but i promise you it… it fits better in my head

Gorgug- Fluttershy

The element of kindness. Well this one I feel like is pretty on the nose. In many many episodes fluttershy is shown to get ANGRY when her animals or friends are treated badly. This is best shown in the pier pony episode. Her literally superpower is like the hulk, she turns into a massive strong angry… monster when angry. This couldn’t be more barbarian of her. Gorgug on the first day of freshman year, gave a flower to Fabian immediately sharing his kindness. And obviously when he get less quiet he goes into his barbarian state which he struggles do sometimes. These are very obvious points and there are hundreds of examples I could probably use. Gorgug is generally quite shy, often not speaking as much as the other bad kids especially round new people. As far as we are aware, gorgug is an only child, he doesn’t even have adopted siblings but that just gives his adoptive parents all their love and support. Fluttershy has a brother who is… well… full of him self to say the least. Her parents seem sweet and like they care very much for their children even if they can be pushed around by their son. Fluttershy will prove herself when her friends need it. There is one instant at the start of junior year where gorgug is led to believe by his friends that he was the one to trap the nightyorb to make him feel more confident proud of himself when in reality Fig secretly did it instead. Although I can’t get up an example currently, I am very sure there have been one or two times something similar to this has happened in the MPL friendship Is magic show.

I know a lot of this is just me contradicting myself and I’m sure I got plenty of things mildly incorrect but this took me quite a while to finish and If this somehow reaches anyone who has worked on fantasy high I will silently cry with happiness.

Also if anyone actually found this interesting or enjoyable to read I will happily make an even longer essay but with clips and proof going into more details about all the characters.

[the-greatest-magic-of-all]

For the bingo if you’d like, “Leaving doodles on their notes/books/items” for Fabriz?

(I love your writing btw, I’m always excited when I see you’d posted something new)

Aww, thank you so much!! I'm honoured that my writing can make you that excited. I really hope you enjoy this one!

Send me a prompt and help me get a bingo!

Words: 2,742

Throughout his freshman and sophomore years at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy, Riz had a mini mystery running the back of his mind. The stakes, though, were not Penny Luckstone’s life or the end of the world, but his sanity because…. someone kept doodling on his shit!

Ink stars and constellations littered the corners of his study notes. Tiny jellyfish and sea turtles swam across the backs of his flashcards. The margins of the cheap mass-market mysteries he liked to read were filled with wonky daggers, bottles of poison and other murder weapons. And his clues! Not even his clues were safe! Sometimes he’d look away for a minute or two and return to find that they were framed by long lines, some straight, some wavy, that ended in sparkles or hearts. Like he was going to post them on Studygram or something! They would wreck any street cred he could conceivably scrounge up as a teenage private eye!

Well… he doesn’t hate them. Not entirely… Okay, not at all! They’re cute! They fill him with a whimsy that he usually never allows himself to have in his day-to-day life.

But it still drove him batty that he didn’t know who was making them! Over the course of both school years, he’d narrowed the possible suspects down to one of the Bad Kids. It had to be.

At first, he was worried that the list of suspects would include any of the classmates he sat beside. Both in class and during study sessions in the library or study hall. But when the doodles appeared on some of his Nightmare King notes over the summer on a day he’d spent only with the Bad Kids, he was relieved. It’d be a lot easier to find his bandit.

Adaine, he struck off the list first. He’d seen what her spellbook looked like, perfect elvish handwriting and everything placed just so. No doodles to be seen anywhere in the pages of her notes either. And now, looking back, he’d spent more than a handful of evenings studying with her and never had he found a doodle on his things afterward.

Kristen was out too. Though he had seen her doodle on her clerical homework or her arms many times before, he didn’t believe that she had the level of stealth or sleight of hand to elude him for this long. Plus, none of her go-to sun and moon doodles matched any of the ones he’d seen before.

Which left him with either Fig, Fabian, or Gorgug as his culprit. For the longest time, these three had stumped him. Not to mention by that point Spring Break had arrived and they had bigger fish to fry. Unlike Adaine, he hardly studied with either of this trio, so he had no way of knowing whether or not they consistently doodled on their own shit. And unlike Kristen, he considered all of them dexterous enough to evade his passive perception if he was distracted enough.

Thankfully, Fig helped this case immensely one afternoon at the end of sophomore year. It was when they were supposed to be studying for their finals in the Aguefort library. With her feet kicked up on the table, she abruptly looked up from the bardic history book she was maybe reading. Eyes filled with mischief. Leaning over, she plucked his pencil out of his hands and immediately drew a dick in the middle of his notes. For what reason, he had no idea. He'd been too in shock to stop her. Smiling a wide satisfied smile, Fig gave him and nod before going back to her book without a single word.

After a beat, staring at her with wide eyes and furrowed brows, he mentally crossed Fig off of the suspect list.

Leaving only Fabian and Gorgug as his doodle bandit. He had to admit, at this point, he was willing to flip a coin and just decide who it was that way. Because may the Gods damn it all, he should’ve put these two at the top of his suspect list and disregarded the other three.

Fabian had some artistic talent since he was the one who handmade his business cards, on two separate occasions. And he’d once seen the stack of sketchbooks Gorgug had tucked a bit underneath his bed.

Yes, of course, he could always just ask both of the boys whether or not they were his doodle bandit. And if he did so, he’d more than likely get his answer but… what if they stopped once he confronted them? For the first time in his life, Riz was hesitant to close the case on a mystery. He found himself vacillating on asking after the doodles whenever he was alone with one of them—no, that’s a lie. He only felt a worry stir within him when he thought about asking Fabian, he still didn’t know why, though.

Like right now!

At any point, from the moment Fabian barged into his office with lunch for the two of them to now, as the harsh afternoon sun tried its best to cook them alive, he could’ve asked. Just mentioned that he’d been finding doodles every which where and asked if they’d been drawn by Fabian’s hand. Easy peasy! Fabian would either answer yes or no! And then he’d finally know!

But. Riz. Didn’t. Do. That.

He kept quiet. Stuffing his mouth with the artisan BLT Fabian always insisted on getting him to stop any questions from falling out. And when that was all gone, he filled his mouth with explanations of everything he’d found out so far on the entity that shouldn’t be spoken of. That seemed to do the trick. Instead of a head full of doodles, he’d reoriented his brain toward solving a more important case. Yes, much better.

Hours went by like that. Both of them fanned themselves with scraps of paper as they tried to unravel the mystery of the N*ght Y*rb. Well, Riz was trying to unravel the mystery. Darting from his desk to his freshly emptied corkboard to pin up clue after clue. Fabian, on the other hand, lounged across his couch like a fainting aristocrat. Only chiming in with complaints about the heat every five minutes.

To which Riz would reply that he was free to go back to his arcano-conditioned home not twenty minutes away. The most recent time, as he copied a quote from a library book on Realmspace, he added under his breath, “Not like you’re making yourself useful.”

Fabian gasped as he shot upright, a well-manicured hand clutching his invisible pearls. “The Ball. How very dare you!”

“What?” Riz whined with a grin at his best friend’s ridiculousness. “You’re not!”

“I can be very useful.”

“I never said you couldn’t!”

“Hurtful,” Fabian shot back. Jabbing a finger at Riz as he raised his chin and pouted. “That’s what your words are.”

“Fuuuck, come on!” Riz said, trying to keep at least some irritation in his voice. It was hard though. Fondness kept sneaking in and filling his voice with mirth as Fabian crossed his arms in a huff. Somehow pouting even harder. “Okay, alright, I’m sorry. You can be very useful, Fabian.”

Fabian’s pout turned into a small, smug smile. “Apology accepted.”

“Good.” Riz sat back in his chair and let himself take in all of his work finding any clues he could on the N*ght Y*rb. It should be enough to start a proper clue board for it all. “Now get over here and be as useful as you say you are. Help me pin up some of these clues.”

“Ugh,” Fabian groaned as he threw himself back onto the couch. Draiping a dramatic hand over his eye and sighing before he caught Riz’s eye said, “Fine.”

Lifting himself from the couch with a small hop, Fabian strode over to Riz’s desk filled with books and clues. He looked over it all with a befuddled expression. Hands on his hips, his eye scanned the organized chaos (at least to Riz it was) and Riz watched them as they started to glaze over. Taking pity on him, but not without a chuckle, Riz gestured for Fabian to swap places with him at the desk.

“The clues should be somewhat colour-coordinated with highlighters. So group together to blues with the blues and the yellows with the yellows and the—”

“I’m not thick, The Ball. I understand colour-coordination.” Fabian said with a playful scowl.

“Just saying. Sheesh, touchy,” Riz murmured as he slipped out of his desk chair to let Fabian sit. Of which Fabian noogied him for the audacity, but sat down all the same. Readjusting his rumpled hair and tie with a smirk, Riz went on and said, “I’ll be on pin duty. Got it?” Raising a hand toward Fabian in a request for a high five. And even though he rolled his eye, he accepted his request. Completing the high five, trying to hide a smile as Riz yelled out like they finished a team huddle, “Break!”

Working like a well-greased machine, his clue board for the Case of the Terrible N*ght Y*rb began to take shape. With Fabian taking on the more menial task of organizing all of his cluttered thoughts and clues, it left Riz able to focus purely on stringing them all together into something more... coherent. Don’t get him wrong, it was still a chaotic mess of scribbled notes and red string, but it was a vast improvement.

Whenever asked, Fabian would hand him a notecard or just a torn-off notebook page for him to pin and then link to another. A stray quote on an old newspaper clipping. Half of an omen from ages long past hastily written with a dying pen. Most of a text conversation he had with Adaine that he printed out and annotated.

It had all been going so well until he got lost in thought. Staring off through the window at the sun setting under the horizon. Trying to connect to disparate thoughts because of an itching in the back of his mind that they in fact could be connected at all. After five minutes of silent contemplation, Riz decided to put it on the back burner for now. For the sake of getting the last couple of clues on the board.

Still staring out of the window, Riz extended an open hand toward Fabian and asked, “Could you hand me a blank notecard and pencil. I’m on to something but I don’t know what yet.”

“As you wish, detective,” Fabian answered in his usual posh drawl and placed the card and the pencil in his grasp.

Without fully looking, Riz scribbled down those disparate yet somehow connected thoughts and went to pin them up on a corner of the board. It was only then, as he sunk a push pin into the top of the card that he noticed something off about it.

In the bottom corner of the notecard was the profile of his face drawn in graphite surrounded by familiar-looking stars. His long ears, dark curly hair, a pensive expression and even his bad habit of biting the tips of his claw. All of it was shown in a tiny little doodle on this card. But that would mean—Riz gasped. His heart skipped a beat.

Every hesitation and anxiety he had about solving this little, frivolous mystery left him in the blink of an eye.

“You’re the doodle bandit?” Riz exclaimed and whipped around to shove the notecard in Fabian’s confused face.

Well-kept brows shooting up, Fabian looked down at Riz as if he’d grown a second head. “I’m the what?”

“You’re the one that’s been doodling on all of my shit since freshman year!” Riz said as he couldn’t contain all of the bursting, soaring, warm feelings that were exploding within his small frame and began to climb Fabian. He bound up and onto Fabian’s lap to point out the doodle of himself on the card to him. His slim tail kept him balanced as he perched on Fabian’s thighs while it also wagged excitably behind him.

Fabian reared back, one of his hands covering the lower half of his face. “No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have!”

“I have done no such thing!”

“What’s this then?”

“Okay, so I’ve done it once.” Taking Riz’s wrist in hand, Fabian yanked the notecard down and out of his face. Getting all up in Riz’s face, foreheads touching, Fabian (presumably) tried to intimidate him into ignoring this revelation. “Once does not a pattern make, The Ball.”

But Riz Gukgak was not so easily intimidated.

“No, it doesn’t.” He said, feigning defeat. Just long enough for Fabian to have started loosening his hold on his wrist to slip out and fall back to the ground. And perhaps very ‘Ball’-like, once his feet hit the floor, he didn’t stop moving. Instead, he darted for a filing cabinet next to his desk. Yanking the lowest drawer open, he pulled out yet another clue board and presented it to Fabian with righteous vigour. “But I think all of these should do it. Ha!”

Fabian’s eye widened and his mouth fell open just a bit as he beheld the sight in front of him.

Every single doodle Riz had ever found on any of his things was pinned to the surface of this 18x24-inch board. Either ripped out of notebooks or meticulously photocopied, it didn’t matter, not an inch of the board wasn’t concealed by one of Fabian’s idle creations.

A night sky worth of stars and constellations covered the top half of the board while dozens of adorable sea creatures inhabited the lower half. The middle was more of a free-for-all. Intricately designed blades. Sprawling vines. Skulls and bones (duh!). Sparkles and hearts. Anything and everything. And now—Riz took the newest notecard, the one with his face on it and pinned it to the center of the board—him.

Looking at it all, Riz felt a little dizzy at how jubilant he felt knowing that Fabian made all of it.

This is why when Fabian piped up and said, “Oh. Well then. I apologize.”, Riz almost gave himself whiplash with how fast his head spun toward him.

Apologize?

“Huh?” Riz asked, his face scrunched up in confusion. Too caught up spiralling in his own pleasant feelings to have realized that Fabian might’ve been spiralling in a different direction.

“Obviously it’s been bothering you for a while now,” Fabian said with a gulp. Grimacing as he gestured toward the doodle-filled board. “I’ll, umm, try not to, uh, ‘doodle on your shit’ anymore.”

“No!” Before he could think not to, Riz flickered forward to grasp his gesturing hand. His small green claws wrapped around Fabian’s warm ones, far larger than his own, and squeezed them. Heart racing, in fear or for another reason, Riz had no time to decide as he tried to prevent his one worry about this case from coming true. Stumbling over his words because of how quickly they were trying to leave his lips, Riz said, “I-I don’t, I don’t mind.”

A cautious look of hope bloomed on Fabian’s handsome features. “But you made a clue board about it.”

“I know but I really don’t mind them. In fact, they,” He looked down at Fabian’s doodles again and smiled. Looking back up at Fabian with a tender expression. His pupils were undoubtedly as dilated as could be. “They make me happy.”

Cautious hope melted into fondness on Fabian’s face he smiled shyly and squeezed Riz’s hand. “Well, then. I’m… very happy to hear that.”

The two of them spent a couple more moments staying just like that. The setting sun bathing Riz’s office in hues of golden orange and red, before finishing up their work. From then on, with the Case of the Elusive Doodle Bandit solved, Riz kept that board filled with Fabian’s doodles out where he could see them. For those long nights spent researching or studying when he needed a morale boost.

Sometimes he’d even come back from school or from working a local case and find a new doodle. Of a bird or waves or himself from an angle he didn’t realize he was being drawn from pinned to the board. 

The doodle bandit striking again when he least expected it.

Two down! Three more for a Bingo! Thank you for sending me this ask, Erin! Again, I hope you enjoyed it!!

Send me a prompt and help me get a bingo!

[thisisnotthenerd]

Happy New Year @shakespearestolemyurl !! I have the other half of your 2023 @d20exchange gift: Songs of the Celestine verses for the Bad Kids!

Group Verses

On occasion, an adventuring party will receive a set of verses that encompasses the group as a whole—these verses are sung together as opposed to individually. Often, these are written by a bard within the group, taking the form to detail the exploits of their own adventuring party.

This set of written verses regards the Solesian adventuring party known as the Bad Kids, who defeated Kalvaxus and the Nightmare King during their first two years at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. The author of these verses is technically unknown, but it is believed that Fabian Seacaster, during his early bardic education, composed these verses for his friends using the form learned from his pirate father, William Seacaster, after he joined the College of Swords during the Bad Kids' quest to retrieve the Crown of the Nightmare King. 1

______________________________

Adaine Abernant-O’Shaughnessy:

A wizard born

To endless scorn

Who chose the face the fighting storm

Upon her word

That she has sworn

The elven oracle

She’s stolen books

And taken looks

At futures she has now forsook

From tiny nooks

She found the hooks

Now categorical

With arcane hands

She made her stand

A mage come far from foreign lands

And as she scanned

She made her plans

And broke her manacles

For now she is

Second to none

The oracle for everyone

And free at last

She’ll have her fun

Adaine the oracle

______________________________

Kristen Applebees:

The cleric chosen

For devotion

Her heart in ever-changing motion

Questions Couldn’t

Remain unspoken

The Prophet now come free

So determined she

Can’t be deterred

She tried to fly with a Ribbon dancer

Oh she stands sure

Even though her

Dex is negative three

From Helio

To Yes? Or no

She understands what can’t be known

In philosophy

She seeks to grow

Cassandra’s only priest

A cleric’s light

Within the night

Guides darkened paths with clear sight

She walks alight

And fears no fright

Saint Kristen Applebees

______________________________

Figueroth Faeth:

The rebel bard

Cannot be charred

Flamboyant in her disregard

With warlock spells

She will safeguard

Fig the InFaethable

She changes face

In every space

And plays with skill electric bass

She’ll catch your soul

And take your place

While playing rock’n’roll

She gave request

For Aguefort’s best

But something she could not have guessed

Was to the west

And in her nest

Writing wizard’s scrolls

She’ll drink some gin

No fear of sin

Her secrets kept behind her grin

But when you’re friends

She’ll let you in

Fig the InFaethable

______________________________

Gorgug Thistlespring:

Barbarian bound

To hear the sound

Of metal music all around

He oft confounds

And breaks the ground

Gorgug Thistlespring

He looked for meaning

In the gloam

For heritage to call him home

Child of orc

And man and gnome

he is now the crab king

He fuels with fear

an endless rage

He came from deathly forest aged

Who is his dad

He cannot gauge

Insight is not his thing

He wields his axe

And hammer too

He’ll call across the world to you

He fixed his phone

Made sending stones

it’s Gorgug keep going

______________________________

Riz “The Ball” Gukgak:

The roguish goblin

Killed a dragon

With deepest passion he was gobbling

He’s hidden when

He gets his shots in

Riz Gukgak? Nay, “the Ball”

With arquebus

And sword to choose

The briefcase where he keeps his clues

Or healer’s kit

And clue tattoos

He makes good use of them all

The little shrimp

Of the bad kids

When seeking clues do as he bids

While counting fingers

He shot Biz

He’ll commit assault

Though self-contained

With party in reins

He thinks at night with buzzing brain

He’ll ne’er refrain

And fears no pain

The fury of the small

______________________________

Fabian Seacaster:

The bardic fighter

Sheet igniter

Hellish motorcycle rider

With dance and fire

He will reach higher

Fabian Seacaster

Born to pirate

Legacy and

Elvish smiths and fighters free

He made his way

From land to sea

And faced disaster

The warlocks slain

‘Twas only him

And erstwhile friend, Chungledown Bim

And on a whim

From battle grim

He fled and fell even faster

And from that moment

He was changed

His skill in elvish dance now trained

With sword and sheet

And crossbow ranged

Fabian Seacaster

1 Given the personal nature of these verses, there are a few deviations from how the song is typically sung for pirate heroes. While titles and epithets commonly feature in the Songs, this rendition features continual references to titles endowed upon the Bad Kids, formal or otherwise, save Seacaster's own verses. These include: the Elven Oracle [Adaine Abernant-O'Shaughnessy], the InFaethable [Figueroth Faeth], the Blessed Saint [Kristen Applebees], the Crab King [Gorgug Thistlespring], and The Ball [Riz Gukgak].

[cigfigsox]

"Choked up, face down, burnt out."

Chapter 1 (of ?)

☾ Fandom: Fantasy High ☾ Pairing: Kristen Applebees & Kipperlilly Copperkettle ☾ Warnings: None (just light cursing) ☾ Word Count: 7579 words ☾ Summary: An alternate Kristen centric version of Junior year where Kristen Applebees runs for president and falls in love with an uncorrupted Kipperlilly.

Kristen Applebees hung from the wooden rafters of the old chapel, her muscles straining as she pulled herself up for the tenth time. Sweat beaded on her forehead, dripping down her temples, and she let out a low grunt with each pull. The sound of her breath echoed faintly in the quiet, dusty space, only interrupted by the occasional creak of the old wood. The chapel at Mordred Manor had become her sanctuary, a place where she could be alone with her thoughts—or more accurately, a place where she could try to drown them out with sheer physical exertion.

As she released the bar, dropping back to the ground, Kristen wiped her forehead with the hem of her shirt. The ache in her arms was a welcome distraction, but as she leaned back against the stone wall, her mind began to wander once more. So much had changed since sophomore year—since that crazy, chaotic year when she’d found her faith only to lose it all over again. Now, with the Church of Mystery and Doubt in shambles and the thrill of defeating the Night Yorb just a fading memory, Kristen felt adrift.

She sighed, her eyes trailing up to the dusty stained glass windows that depicted a forgotten saint. The colors were muted in the early morning light, but she could still make out the faint outlines of a sword and shield, a warrior of faith from a time long past. A warrior like she used to be, before everything went to shit.

“What now?” she muttered to herself, her voice echoing slightly in the empty room. Running for student body president had seemed like a good idea when Riz and Jawbone suggested it—something to focus on, something to get her out of this rut. A spark of excitement had flickered in her chest when she thought about it, a glimmer of purpose she hadn’t felt in months. And then there was the best part: the look on Mollykiggins Kippermedley’s face when she’d heard the news. Or was it Kettlechip Krispy-kreme? Kristen snorted, shaking her head. Whatever her name was, that girl was going down.

Kristen pushed herself off the wall and began to pace the small space, her footsteps quiet on the stone floor. The old chapel had once been a place of worship, but now it was just another relic of a bygone era. Dust covered the pews, and cobwebs clung to the corners of the ceiling. But for Kristen, it was home—at least, as much of a home as she had these days. The rest of the manor was too big, too empty, and too filled with memories she didn’t want to face.

She paused by the altar, her fingers trailing over the cold stone surface. Her hand lingered on the small, silver symbol of Cassandra that still sat there—a symbol that now felt more like a mocking reminder of her past than a source of comfort. Kristen grimaced and turned away, walking over to the small window that overlooked the courtyard.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the dew-covered grass. The air was crisp, with the first hint of autumn in the breeze. Elmville was waking up, and soon, so would the rest of Aguefort Adventuring Academy. A new day in the new school year, and a new challenge.

As she watched the light play over the courtyard, Kristen’s thoughts drifted back to the campaign. Running for president meant facing off against Kipperlilly Copperkettle—Mollykiggins, she reminded herself with a smirk. The girl was everything Kristen wasn’t—polished, clean, and annoyingly perfect. But there was something else about her too, something that Kristen couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe it was the way she always seemed so sure of herself, or the way her eyes flashed with determination when she thought no one was looking. Whatever it was, it rubbed Kristen the wrong way.

But it also made her curious.

“Why does she even want to be president?” Kristen muttered under her breath, her gaze still fixed on the courtyard. “What’s in it for her?”

A soft chime echoed through the chapel, pulling Kristen's attention away from the courtyard. She glanced over her shoulder, spotting the faint blue glow of her crystal lying on her bed. The familiar light and sound were a reminder that the world outside her little sanctuary hadn’t stopped turning. With a sigh, Kristen pushed off from the windowsill and crossed the room, her footsteps almost silent on the worn stone floor.

Her crystal pulsed gently as she picked it up, the cool surface smooth against her fingers. A notification glowed on the screen—a message from the group text with the Bad Kids. Kristen’s lips curled into a small smile as she swiped it open. The chat was always buzzing with some new story, some new bit of mischief or adventure. Today, it was Fig, of course.

A selfie filled the screen, Fig’s face bright with excitement, her purple hair wild and her eyes sparkling. She was holding up a small, fossilized rock, the surface etched with what looked like an ancient love note. The caption beneath it read: "Ayda sent me this from the time stream! Look what love can do, people!!! 💜✨ #romanticAF."

Kristen couldn’t help but smile at the picture. Fig and Ayda’s relationship had always been a whirlwind, a beautiful, chaotic mess that somehow worked in a way Kristen couldn’t fully understand. It was like they were made for each other. That thought sent a small pang through her chest, and before she could stop herself, her mind drifted to Tracker.

She hadn’t thought about Tracker in a while—not really. But seeing Fig so happy, so connected with someone even through the barriers of time made it impossible at the moment, made Kristen’s heart ache with the memory of what she had lost. Tracker had been her anchor, the person who kept her grounded even when everything else was spiraling out of control. But now, all that was left between them was silence, a wide gulf that Kristen didn’t know how to cross.

Without really thinking, she swiped away from the group chat and opened the one she had with Tracker. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard as she stared at the last message they had exchanged—something mundane about a book Tracker had recommended. That was weeks ago, maybe even months. It felt like another lifetime.

Kristen’s fingers twitched, and she began to type a message, something simple like "Hey, how’ve you been?" But as soon as she typed the words, they felt wrong. She deleted them, then started again. "Saw something today that reminded me of you…" No, that wasn’t right either. Delete. She typed and erased a dozen messages, each one more awkward and forced than the last.

She could almost hear Tracker’s voice in her head, gentle but firm, telling her not to overthink it. Just say what you feel, Kristen. But that was the problem—Kristen wasn’t sure what she felt anymore. The emotions were all tangled up, a messy knot of longing, regret, and confusion. And every time she tried to pull at one thread, the whole thing just seemed to tighten.

Finally, with a huff of frustration, Kristen locked the crystal and tossed it back onto the bed. The soft thud it made against the blankets was like the sound of a door closing. She stood there for a moment, staring down at the device as if it might suddenly offer her the answers she needed. But it stayed silent, the screen dark and unhelpful.

Kristen shook her head, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in her chest. She needed to get out of her own head, to focus on something else—anything else. Dropping to the floor, she planted her hands firmly on the cold stone and started doing push-ups, letting the physical exertion clear her mind.

The rhythmic motion was soothing, a steady beat that helped drown out the swirling thoughts. She focused on the feeling of her muscles working, the strain in her arms, the slight burn in her chest. The chapel’s cool air brushed against her skin, and the scent of old stone and dust filled her nostrils. It was grounding, pulling her back into the present moment, away from the past and all the unresolved emotions that came with it.

But as much as she tried to push the thoughts away, they kept creeping back in. Tracker’s smile, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about. The warmth of her hand in Kristen’s, steady and reassuring. The way they used to stay up late, talking about everything and nothing, just happy to be in each other’s company.

Kristen’s push-ups slowed, her arms trembling as the weight of those memories pressed down on her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the images, but they clung to her like cobwebs. Why was it so hard to let go? Why couldn’t she just move on, like everyone else seemed to?

She lowered herself to the ground and lay there for a moment, her cheek pressed against the cool stone floor. The world felt heavy, pressing down on her from all sides. She had thought that running for president would give her something to focus on, something to distract her from all this. But even that felt like a distant dream now, overshadowed by the ghosts of what could have been.

Taking a deep breath, Kristen rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. The rafters above crisscrossed in a complex pattern, and the morning light filtering through the stained glass cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the stone. It was beautiful, in a way—simple, peaceful. But it didn’t fill the emptiness in her chest.

“Get it together, Applebees,” she muttered to herself, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.

Kristen sat up slowly, her muscles protesting after the intense workout. She settled into a cross-legged position on the cold stone floor, the rough surface beneath her a grounding contrast to the swirling emotions in her mind. The morning light streaming through the stained glass window cast soft, colorful patterns across the chapel, bathing her in a kaleidoscope of hues. But even the beauty of the light couldn’t lift the heaviness that weighed down her heart.

Taking a deep breath, Kristen closed her eyes, letting the familiar scents of old stone and dust fill her senses. This place had always been a sanctuary, a space where she could connect with the divine. Or at least, it used to be. Now, it felt empty, hollow—a reminder of what she had lost.

She reached out with her mind, the way she had done so many times before, searching for that familiar presence in the divine space. Cassandra had always been there, a comforting warmth, a guiding light in the darkness. But now, there was nothing. Just an endless void, cold and silent.

“Cassandra,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Are you out there? Can you hear me?”

She waited, her heart pounding in the quiet. But there was no answer, no sign that her goddess was listening. The emptiness pressed in around her, a suffocating silence that made her chest ache.

“Please,” Kristen pleaded, her voice trembling. “Just give me something—anything. I need to know you’re still there. That I didn’t… that I didn’t let you down.”

But again, there was nothing. No response, no warmth, no connection. The divine space remained empty, and the realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

She was alone.

Kristen’s eyes fluttered open, and she stared down at her hands, resting limply in her lap. The weight of her failure settled over her, heavy and oppressive. It was her fault. She had been so caught up in everything else—in the chaos of school, in her relationships, in trying to find her place in the world—that she had neglected Cassandra. She hadn’t prioritized her faith, and now, Cassandra was gone. Dead, because Kristen hadn’t been strong enough to keep her alive.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she blinked them away furiously. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t deserve to cry. This was her fault, and no amount of tears would change that.

But the tears didn’t listen. They gathered at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision, and she clenched her fists, trying to hold them back. She didn’t want to be weak. She couldn’t afford to be weak—not now, not when so much was riding on her.

“Get it together,” she muttered to herself, her voice shaking. “You’re stronger than this. You have to be.”

But even as she said the words, she knew they were a lie. She didn’t feel strong. She felt lost, adrift in a world that had suddenly become so much bigger and scarier without Cassandra to guide her.

Kristen swallowed hard, forcing the lump in her throat down. She couldn’t dwell on this. She couldn’t let herself spiral. There was too much to do, too many people counting on her. And if she couldn’t rely on Cassandra anymore, she would just have to find a way to rely on herself.

With a determined shake of her head, Kristen pushed herself to her feet. The room spun slightly, and she took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her fingers itched to do something—anything to keep her mind from drifting back to the dark place it always seemed to want to go. She needed noise, movement, something to drown out the silence that threatened to consume her.

She grabbed her crystal from the bed and quickly swiped through the options, selecting one of her loudest, most upbeat playlists. The first notes of a fast-paced, energetic song blasted through the chapel, filling the space with sound. Kristen turned the volume up even louder, letting the music vibrate through her body, shaking her from the inside out.

The beat pulsed in her veins, and Kristen let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She needed this—something to push her, to keep her going. Without another thought, she reached up for the wooden beam again, gripping it tightly as she began another set of pull-ups.

The burn in her muscles was immediate, but Kristen welcomed it. She focused on the sensation, on the strain in her arms, the tightness in her chest. It was a distraction, a way to pull herself out of the whirlpool of emotions that threatened to drag her under.

She counted each pull-up out loud, the numbers a steady rhythm that matched the beat of the music. The words of the song blurred into the background, just a driving force that kept her moving, kept her from thinking too much.

“Eleven… twelve… thirteen…” Her voice was breathless, strained, but she kept going. She needed to feel this, to push her body to its limits, to drown out everything else.

But no matter how hard she tried, the emptiness lingered. It clung to the edges of her mind, a constant reminder that something vital was missing. She could distract herself, she could push herself to exhaustion, but it didn’t change the fact that Cassandra was gone. And without her, Kristen wasn’t sure who she was anymore.

She finished the set, her arms trembling with fatigue, and dropped to the ground, her legs giving out beneath her. She sat there, breathing heavily, her heart racing in her chest. The music continued to pound in her ears, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the hollow ache inside her.

Kristen wiped the sweat from her forehead, her fingers trembling. She couldn’t keep doing this—couldn’t keep running from the truth. But facing it, really facing it, was more terrifying than anything she had ever faced before.

Because if she wasn’t a cleric of Cassandra, if she didn’t have her faith, then what was she? What was left of Kristen Applebees if she wasn’t the girl who had found her way back to her goddess?

She didn’t have the answer to that question. And the more she thought about it, the more scared she became.

But fear wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Fear wasn’t going to help her win the election, or figure out her place in the world. She had to keep moving, keep fighting, even if it felt like she was fighting a losing battle.

Kristen took a deep breath, forcing herself to stand once more. She wasn’t going to let this defeat her. She couldn’t. She had too much to prove—to herself, to the world, to Cassandra, wherever she was.

She turned the music down slightly, letting the next song play at a more reasonable volume. Then, with a determined set to her jaw, she reached up for the beam again.

It was time to keep going. To keep fighting. Because that’s what she did. And maybe, just maybe, she would find a way to rebuild what she had lost along the way.

Kristen had just reached the count of eleven more pull-ups, her arms trembling slightly from the exertion, when a knock echoed through the chapel, cutting through the music. She gritted her teeth, finishing one more pull-up.

“Come in!” she called out, her voice a bit rough from the strain.

The door creaked open, and Adaine stepped in, her wide eyes immediately locking onto Kristen hanging from the rafters. She froze for a moment, her face a mix of surprise and mild concern.

“Careful!” Adaine blurted out, her voice tinged with worry.

“I do this all the time. No big deal,” she said with a shrug, trying to downplay the effort it took to maintain her rigorous routine. Still, she couldn’t help but notice the way Adaine winced when she jumped down, landing with practiced ease and reaching for a towel to wipe the sweat from her face.

Adaine stepped further into the room, her careful steps avoiding the scattered piles of clothes, books, and general mess that had accumulated over the past few days. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she navigated the chaos, finally making her way to Kristen’s bed and sitting down, her delicate form perched on the edge as if she was afraid to touch anything.

Kristen tossed the towel aside and crossed the room, grabbing another tank top from a nearby chair. “What’s up, dude?” she asked, pulling the fresh shirt over her head. The fabric was soft against her skin, still smelling faintly of the lavender detergent that Jawbone insisted on using.

Adaine glanced around the room again, her eyes landing on the dusty corners and the haphazard piles of Kristen’s belongings. “Just wanted to let you know that Fabian is planning to throw a party at Seacaster Manor tonight. He’s really committed to this whole ‘party house’ thing,” Adaine said, her voice dry as she mimicked Fabian’s grandiose tone. “But Riz thinks it’ll be good for your campaign.”

Kristen paused, her hand halfway to grabbing her backpack. “Oh yeah, sure. Sounds good,” she replied, her tone casual. Parties at Seacaster Manor were nothing new, but with the campaign looming, this one took on a different significance. Still, it was hard to muster much enthusiasm when her mind was still lingering on the void where Cassandra used to be.

Adaine’s eyes followed Kristen as she moved about the room, gathering up random items and shoving them into her backpack. “If you’re really serious about this race, everyone should be there,” Adaine added, her voice gentle but firm.

Kristen glanced at her friend, noting the seriousness in her expression. “Everyone?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow as she grabbed a few loose papers from her desk and crammed them into her bag.

Adaine nodded, her gaze flicking down to the floor where Kristen had tossed the dirty tank top. “Apart from the Rat Grinders. Fabian’s making it clear they’re not invited,” she added with a faint smirk, though her expression turned sour at the mention of the group.

Kristen laughed, shaking her head as she zipped up her backpack. “Copperlilly’s going to love that,” she said, the words slipping out before she could stop herself. The thought of Kipperlilly’s perfectly poised face twisting into that familiar look of annoyance was almost enough to lift Kristen’s spirits.

Adaine’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “I literally hate her so much,” she muttered, her voice low and venomous.

Kristen shrugged, pretending not to notice the sharp edge in her friend’s voice. “It’s whatever. She’s a little freak,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant as she moved to the other side of the room, her hands busy searching for any school supplies that hadn’t yet been lost to the abyss of her chaotic room.

But even as she said it, she couldn’t help but picture Kipperlilly’s face—the way her eyes narrowed when she was focused, the way her lips pressed into a thin line when she was irritated. There was something about that intensity, something that Kristen couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Kristen shook her head, trying to clear the image from her mind as she dug through the mess, her fingers brushing against a forgotten quill and an old, crumpled piece of parchment. She grabbed both, adding them to her growing pile of school stuff, though she wasn’t entirely sure she’d even need them. At this point, she was just trying to keep busy, to keep her thoughts from drifting back to places she didn’t want them to go.

Adaine watched her, a small frown creasing her brow as she took in the state of Kristen’s room. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to clean up a bit,” she suggested, her tone light but her meaning clear. “If people are going to take you seriously as a candidate, it might help to have a little more… organization.”

Kristen sighed, glancing around at the chaos she’d surrounded herself with. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” she muttered, though the thought of tidying up felt overwhelming. It was easier to just let things pile up, to let the mess reflect the way she felt inside. But Adaine was right—if she wanted to win, she needed to present herself as someone who had it together, even if she felt like she was falling apart.

With a huff, Kristen shoved a few more things into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll clean up later. Right now, I need to focus on this party,” she said, her voice firm as if saying it out loud would make it true.

Adaine gave her a small, encouraging smile. “It’s going to be fine, Kristen. You’ve got this,” she said, her voice warm with reassurance. “And hey, if Kipperlilly shows up, we can always throw her into the moat.”

Kristen snorted, the image of Kipperlilly floundering in Seacaster Manor’s moat almost enough to make her laugh out loud. “Tempting,” she replied with a grin. “But maybe I’ll just settle for beating her in the election.”

“Even better,” Adaine agreed, her smile widening.

Kristen moved back to her desk, where a cluttered collection of notebooks, loose papers, and half-empty mugs of tea fought for space. She began rooting through the mess, looking for a pen. The task was made more difficult by the sheer chaos of the desk—an accurate reflection of the chaos in her head.

“Can I borrow a—” Kristen started to ask, her voice muffled as she pushed aside a small mountain of books.

“Pen, sure,” Adaine replied, already pulling one from her bag. She handed it over with a small smile, a touch of fond exasperation in her eyes.

Kristen accepted it gratefully. “You’re the best,” she said, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I know,” Adaine responded with a smirk, settling back on the bed, carefully maneuvering around Kristen's strewn clothes.

Kristen patted her pockets, suddenly realizing she was missing something important. Adaine rolled her eyes as she reached for Kristen’s crystal, still playing music on the bed.

“Sometimes, I think you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to you,” Adaine remarked, handing the crystal over with a raised eyebrow.

“Sounds like me,” Kristen agreed, taking the crystal and preparing to pocket it. But before she could, Adaine’s gaze caught on the screen, and her expression softened slightly.

“You still haven’t changed it?” Adaine asked, her tone gentle as her eyes lingered on the screensaver—a photo of Kristen and Tracker from sophomore year, their arms wrapped around each other, smiles bright and carefree.

Kristen hesitated, her fingers brushing over the screen before slipping the crystal into her pocket. “I’ll get to it,” she said, her voice just a little too casual.

Adaine sighed, her concern evident. “Are you doing okay?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, and Kristen faltered, her mind racing as she tried to find the right words. She finally shrugged, her shoulders tense. “I guess.”

Adaine’s gaze softened further. “All this stuff you’re going through right now, it’s a lot. And we’re all here for you, you know that, right?”

Kristen nodded, a lump forming in her throat. “Yeah, I do.”

Adaine reached out, placing a hand on Kristen’s arm. “And we love you. I know I do.”

The sincerity in Adaine’s voice broke through Kristen’s defenses, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest. “I love you too, dude,” Kristen replied, her voice thick with emotion.

Adaine smiled, the warmth in her eyes matching the one in Kristen’s chest. “Okay, good. Now, give me your crystal.”

Kristen raised an eyebrow but handed over the crystal without protest. She watched as Adaine unlocked it and quickly changed the lock screen. When she handed it back, Kristen saw a new photo—a picture of all of them sitting on top of the Hangvan, grinning like idiots. Kristen was flexing her biceps, Fig was sticking out her tongue, Riz was perched on Fabian’s shoulders, and Gorgug was making bunny ears behind Adaine’s head, while Boggy sat contentedly in Adaine’s arms.

Kristen couldn’t help but smile at the image, a genuine laugh escaping her lips. “We look like idiots.”

“Idiots I wouldn’t change for the world,” Adaine replied, her own smile wide and genuine.

“Thanks, girlie,” Kristen said softly, the gratitude in her voice clear as she looked at the new lock screen. For the first time in what felt like a long while, something inside her relaxed, a weight she didn’t even know she was carrying lifting off her shoulders.

Adaine didn’t say anything more. Instead, she simply pulled Kristen into a hug, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting embrace. Kristen let herself lean into it, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to truly feel the warmth of her friend’s affection. For a moment, the world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the quiet connection between them, the reminder that she wasn’t alone.

When they finally pulled away, Adaine wrinkled her nose and gave Kristen a playful nudge. “You’re so wet.”

Kristen smirked, unable to resist the joke. “That’s hot.”

Adaine rolled her eyes, laughing as she lightly smacked Kristen on the back of the head. “Shut up,” she said, shaking her head in mock exasperation.

“I’m going to ask Jawbone to open the windows on the way to school,” Adaine said as they left the room, the cool morning air brushing against their faces. “You seriously need to air out after all that sweating.”

Kristen chuckled, nudging Adaine with her shoulder. “Always looking out for me.”

“Someone has to,” Adaine replied, her tone light but the sentiment sincere.

The school day at Aguefort Adventuring Academy passed in a blur of activity, the familiar chaos of classrooms and bustling hallways pulling Kristen out of her own head. She navigated the day like she always did, bouncing between conversations with classmates, trying to keep up with her studies, and, of course, prepping for her campaign. But there was something different about today—a buzz of energy that followed her wherever she went, a feeling that she was finally starting to get her groove back.

By mid-morning, Kristen found herself in the familiar classroom of her cleric studies, the walls lined with shelves of ancient scrolls and holy relics that would have meant more to her if Cassandra was still around. The sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting colorful shadows across the room as Yolanda Badgood, her cleric teacher, stood at the front of the class, discussing the intricacies of divine spells.

Kristen sat in the back, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her notebook. The other students were scribbling down notes, hanging on Yolanda’s every word, but Kristen’s mind wandered. There was a time when this stuff felt like her lifeline, when her connection to Cassandra had given her purpose, her very identity. Now, it felt like she was grasping at smoke.

Yolanda, tall, skinny and bespectacled air genasi with a beautiful cloud of hair, caught Kristen’s eye as the class broke into pairs to practice their spells. She raised an eyebrow, motioning for Kristen to come forward.

Kristen sighed, standing and weaving her way through the desks until she reached the front of the room. Yolanda met her with a knowing look, one that made Kristen feel like she was being seen right through.

“How are you holding up, Kristen?” Yolanda asked quietly, her voice low enough that the other students couldn’t hear.

Kristen shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “I’m working on the essays,” she said, avoiding the real question. “And I’ve been doing the readings.”

Yolanda crossed her arms, her piercing eyes not letting Kristen off that easy. “It’s not about the school work, and you know it. How are you doing?”

Kristen hesitated, feeling the weight of the question settle on her shoulders. She glanced around the room, watching her classmates effortlessly summon holy light and divine energy, and her chest tightened. “I guess I’m managing,” she muttered. “Without Cassandra, it’s… different.”

Yolanda’s expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing her face. “Losing a god is no small thing,” she said gently. “But you’re still here. And the fact that you’re showing up every day, still doing the work—that matters.”

Kristen nodded, though the knot in her chest didn’t loosen. “Yeah. But showing up doesn’t make me feel any closer to… well, anything.”

Yolanda studied her for a moment before leaning in slightly. “Faith isn’t always about feeling close, Kristen. Sometimes, it’s about finding the strength to move forward, even when you feel disconnected. You’re stronger than you realize.”

Kristen swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I hope you’re right.”

Yolanda’s hand rested briefly on Kristen’s shoulder, a small gesture of comfort before she nodded toward the door. “Keep writing the essays and reaching out for Cassandra. And remember, it’s okay to question things. It’s okay to take your time.”

Kristen offered a faint smile, grateful for the teacher’s understanding, even if it didn’t completely ease the turmoil inside her. She made her way back to her seat, picking up Adaine's pen and scribbling down a few half-hearted notes, though her mind was already elsewhere.

The rest of the day passed in much the same way—moments of focus interrupted by the nagging sense that she wasn’t quite herself anymore. But as Kristen walked through the hallways between classes, another student—a firbolg smelling of strong weed—called out to her as she passed by.

“Hey, Applebees! You’re gonna crush this election!” he yelled, a goofy grin on his face as he reached out to high-five her.

Kristen blinked, surprised by the sudden attention, but she slapped his hand with a grin of her own. “Thanks, dude!” she called back, her mood lifting slightly.

As she continued down the hallway, more students began to greet her. A couple of first-years waved excitedly as she passed, and she exchanged a quick high-five with Max, who was leaning against the lockers with a group of his friends.

“You’ve got this, Kristen!” one of the students called out, and Kristen couldn’t help but laugh. The encouragement was genuine, and it felt good, like a breath of fresh air after the heavy conversations she’d had all morning.

She made her way to her locker, grabbing a book for her next class when Fig bounded over, her usual chaotic energy filling the space around her.

“Hey, future president!” Fig exclaimed, throwing her arms around Kristen’s shoulders in a dramatic hug. “Everyone’s talking about you. You’re a legend.”

Kristen chuckled, shaking her head. “I don’t know about a legend.”

“No, seriously!” Fig insisted, stepping back and grinning, pulling dyed hair from her face. “The whole school thinks you’re gonna win. I mean, how could they not? You’ve got the biceps and a smart mouth.”

Kristen flexed her arm, unable to resist playing along. “Well, I do work out,” she joked, feeling a little lighter with every interaction.

Fig laughed, nudging her. “You should use that in your campaign. ‘Vote Kristen Applebees: She’ll flex on corruption!’”

Kristen shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. “I’ll think about it.”

Kristen and Fig made their way down the bustling hallway toward the cafeteria, the noise of the school swirling around them like a constant hum. Students were scattered everywhere—some huddled in groups, animatedly talking about the latest Aguefort gossip, others rushing between classes with books and scrolls piled in their arms. The smell of lunch wafted through the air, a mix of magical food items and more traditional fare.

As they reached the large double doors leading to the cafeteria, Kristen caught sight of the familiar corner where the Bad Kids always sat. Their table, nestled near the window with a clear view of the courtyard, had become a permanent fixture for them—almost as if it had a "Reserved" sign specifically for their group.

Kristen and Fig pushed through the crowd, weaving around other students until they reached the table. Adaine and Gorgug were already there, the two of them sitting quietly as Adaine meticulously unpacked her lunch sack, which was made from a sturdy black trash bag. Lydia Barkrock always made these bags for them every morning, filling them with a strange assortment of foods that somehow provided everything they needed for the day.

Adaine wrinkled her nose as she sifted through her lunch, carefully swapping out some of the carb-heavy snacks for Gorgug’s smaller sandwiches. Gorgug, ever the gentle giant, watched her with quiet appreciation as he munched on one of the snacks Adaine had handed over.

“Thanks,” Gorgug mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich, his deep voice soft but warm.

“No problem,” Adaine replied, pushing her glasses up her nose with a finger before glancing up at Kristen and Fig as they approached. “Finally.”

Riz sat across from them, hunched over a stack of papers that looked way too official for a normal lunch break. He was furiously scribbling notes, his brow furrowed in concentration. From what Kristen could see, it was something to do with one of the many school clubs he was involved in—probably an upcoming debate or an investigative report he was working on.

Fabian, on the other hand, sat on top of the table itself, lounging with the casual confidence only Fabian Aramais Seacaster could pull off. He waved at Kristen and Fig as they approached, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“About time!” Fabian called out, grinning. “I was just telling The Ball that we should go and find you.”

Fig rolled her eyes, plopping down next to him. “Don’t mind us,” she said with a smirk. “Kristen was being hounded by her adoring subjects.”

Kristen laughed as she slid into her seat across from Adaine. “Yeah, apparently I’m a ‘legend’ now,” she said, flexing her arm again in an exaggerated motion. “I guess that’s what running for president does to a girl.”

The whole table erupted into laughter. Even Riz looked up from his paperwork long enough to shoot Kristen a knowing smile before diving back into his notes.

“Well, if anyone’s going to become a legend, it’s you, Kristen,” Fabian declared with a dramatic flourish, clearly reveling in the attention. “But don’t get too comfortable with your newfound fame. Tonight, I will solidify my status as maximum legend of Aguefort at the Seacaster Manor party.”

Fig raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat. “Oh? You throwing this party for yourself or for Kristen’s campaign?”

Fabian shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. “Why not both? It’ll be a night to remember! And what better way to rally the masses than with a grand Seacaster celebration?”

Kristen shook her head, smiling despite herself. She couldn’t deny that Fabian had a way of turning everything into an event. “Just make sure the party doesn’t end with you challenging someone to a joust in the backyard again.”

“Kristen, please,” Fabian said, feigning offense. “That was one time! And, to be fair, I won that joust.”

“You almost impaled yourself on a flagpole,” Adaine pointed out dryly, handing Gorgug another snack from her trash bag lunch.

Fabian waved her off. “Details. The point is, tonight will be epic.”

Kristen leaned back in her chair, glancing around the table. As chaotic as her life felt at the moment, these moments with her friends—sitting at their table, laughing about ridiculous things—grounded her in a way she desperately needed. The weight of the campaign, her struggles with her faith, even the lingering thoughts of Tracker and Cassandra—they all seemed a little less heavy when she was with the Bad Kids.

Gorgug, still munching quietly, glanced over at Kristen. “So, are you ready for the election stuff? I mean… being president sounds like a lot.”

Kristen shrugged, though the question hung in her mind for a moment. Was she ready? Maybe. Maybe not. But she wasn’t about to back down now. “Sure,” she said. “If I can handle you guys, I think I can handle those Rat Munchers.”

Fig snickered. “Yeah, if you can survive us, you’re pretty much indestructible.”

Riz glanced up from his paperwork again, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “The key to winning any election is strategy,” he said seriously. “We need to map out the key demographics, the most influential student groups, and the—”

Fabian cut him off with a wave of his hand. “The Ball, relax. It’s a high school election, not a battle for the throne.”

“It’s exactly like a battle for the throne,” Riz muttered, diving back into his notes.

Kristen smiled, grateful for Riz’s intensity even if it bordered on overkill sometimes. “Let’s just get through the party first.”

Fabian grinned, clapping his hands together. “Exactly! Tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow, we conquer.”

Fig rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness in her voice as she leaned back in her chair. “You’re such a drama queen, Fabian.”

“Thank you,” Fabian replied, completely unfazed.

Gorgug sat up a little straighter, his eyes wandering toward a table on the far side of the cafeteria. “Hey,” he said, his deep voice rumbling as he pointed. “Look at them.”

Kristen followed his gaze and spotted the Rat Grinders, Kipperlilly Copperkettle’s group of friends—or at least, her adventuring party. They sat in their usual spot by the windows, but Kipperlilly wasn’t with them. Lucy, the tall frost genasi with icy blue skin, and Oisin, a blue dragonborn with glasses, were huddled together over a book, their heads nearly touching as they quietly read. Ivy, a striking elven girl with flawless features and an aloof expression, was glued to her phone, occasionally glancing up at the others with mild disinterest. Next to her, Mary Ann, a small reddish kobold, was furiously tapping away on a handheld game device, her tongue poking out in concentration. Off to the side, Ruben, an emo gnome with a swoopy fringe covering half his face, was surrounded by a small group of girls, each one waiting eagerly for his autograph.

Gorgug scratched his head, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Does Cippergililly even like them? I never see her sit with them at lunch.”

Fabian scoffed, tossing his hair back dramatically. “Who cares? They suck,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “Honestly, the fact that Copperpot even associates with them just shows her poor judgment. The Rat Grinders? Really? Who came up with that name?"

Fig’s lips twitched with barely concealed jealousy as she leaned forward on the table, her eyes narrowed in Ruben’s direction. “My Clerical Gnomance wasn’t even that good,” she muttered, her fingers tapping on the table rhythmically. “One song of the summer—big deal. Try best-selling albums.”

Kristen shot Fig a knowing glance. Fig’s rivalry with Ruben wasn’t just about the music. Ruben’s gloomy, brooding persona had somehow earned him an annoyingly loyal fanbase, and it was clear that it got under Fig’s skin.

Adaine, who had been quietly picking through her lunch, looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe they would stand a chance if he was running for president instead,” she said dryly.

The table chuckled, and Kristen rolled her eyes. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She’s annoying, but I doubt Ruben could rally a presidential campaign out of angst.”

Fabian leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “True, true. Though I have to say, Kristen, Kindlesnap What’s-her-face has been awfully quiet about her own campaign. You’re the talk of the school right now, but where is she?”

Kristen shrugged, a frown tugging at her lips. It was strange, now that she thought about it. Kipperlilly hadn’t made any big moves, no flashy announcements or speeches. For someone who thrived on control and precision, she seemed uncharacteristically absent from the political scene.

“I don’t know,” Kristen said, tapping her fingers against her lunch tray. “Maybe she’s planning something big. She’s not the type to go down without a fight.”

“She probably thinks she can waltz in at the last second and blow everyone away,” Fig added, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Classic—making sure everyone’s watching before she even lifts a finger.”

“Yeah, but I wonder how she’s even doing with her party,” Gorgug said, glancing back at the Rat Grinders’ table. “Like, she’s never with them during lunch. Doesn’t that seem weird?”

Kristen glanced over again. Gorgug had a point. Kipperlilly rarely sat with her friends, if they were even friends. It seemed more like an alliance of convenience, a social group held together by mutual benefits rather than any genuine connection. Kristen couldn’t remember the last time she saw Kipperlilly just hanging out with anyone, laughing or relaxing like a normal student. There was always that rigid, cold distance, like she was observing everyone from behind a glass wall.

“I don’t think Kipperlilly has friends the way we do,” Adaine said, her tone thoughtful. “Her relationships seem more… transactional. You know, like alliances. But not the kind where you’d share your trash-bag lunch with someone.”

Gorgug nodded, still eyeing the Rat Grinders. “That sounds… lonely.”

Kristen blinked, the word catching her off guard. Lonely. Was that what Kipperlilly was? She’d never thought about it like that before. Sure, Kipperlilly was frustrating, always so composed and perfect, but loneliness? That wasn’t something she’d ever associated with her. Kipperlilly always seemed untouchable, like she didn’t need anyone.

“I mean, it’s not like she’d ever admit to it,” Kristen said, a hint of doubt creeping into her voice. “She’d probably rather lose the election than show any kind of vulnerability.”

Adaine shrugged, neatly folding her lunch bag and putting it away. “I think everyone has their moments. Even people like Kipperlilly.”

Fabian snorted, clearly unconvinced. “Please. Kettlechip’s probably calculating her next move as we speak. She’s got an endgame, mark my words.”

“Yeah, well, let’s not let her get too far ahead,” Riz said, as Kristen was shaking off the strange feeling that lingered after Gorgug’s comment. “Tonight’s party is a chance to really get some momentum going. We’ll make sure everyone’s talking about the election after tonight.”

“Exactly,” Fabian said, leaning forward with renewed excitement. “I’ll make sure Seacaster Manor is ready for the event of the year. It’ll be the perfect stage.”

Fig grinned, leaning in as well. “And if anyone tries to outshine us, we’ll just drop a killer performance. Can’t compete with that.”

Kristen smiled, feeling the confidence of her friends bolster her own. This was her team, her people, and together they were unstoppable. The election was still a looming challenge, but with her friends backing her up, it didn’t seem as daunting. Even if Kipperlilly had a plan, Kristen wasn’t going to let her walk all over her.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and the cafeteria erupted into movement as students grabbed their trays and began filing out for the next class. Kristen stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder and glancing one last time at the Rat Grinders’ table. Lucy was still deep in conversation with Oisin, while Ruben flipped his hair dramatically and waved off his adoring fans. Kipperlilly, as usual, was nowhere to be seen.

��See you guys at Seacaster Manor,” Kristen said, giving a quick wave to the group as they dispersed.

As she made her way toward the next class, Kristen couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was coming. Whether it was Kipperlilly’s next move or the momentum of her own campaign, things were about to change.

[mythomagically-delicious]

Routine

Corsica gives her sister a ride to school every morning. Her much younger sister. The baby, Ant. The surprise. When they first learned that their mother was pregnant again, Ajax (visiting home) had kicked Prospero (about to graduate) under the table and asked if their mother was losing her edge in tactics, not seeing that coming. Prospero had choked on his protein shake and Ulysses had tried to smother his own laughter behind his hand, and Corsica had really just been staring open-mouthed at her parents as they made the announcement.

It’s a routine, something the Jones’ are good at. Wake up at 4:30 AM, begin the workout routine, shower, eat breakfast, do some light sparring—verbal or physical, depends on the day—go to work. Corsica still lives at the compound because it’s easiest while she works at the Academy. She did her time under the Council of Chosen, and now she teaches some next generations of adventurers. Fighters.

Breaking the routine is immediately noticeable followed by thorough investigation. Antiope usually found an alternate way home from her classes, knowing Corsica often had meetings or staff duties to attend to after school. Her baby sister was often more reserved in the evenings than the rest of her siblings had been. Well, she was a brat for sure, but she could get away with it in the evenings more. Sometimes Corsica got home from work and didn’t see Ant til the next morning.

Ant doesn’t come down one morning.

Ant doesn’t come down at 4:30. Or 4:45. Or 4:50. Corsica is biting her lip as she stretches, splitting her attention between the stairs and their father, who’s complaining about missing his workout buddy loudly, pointedly.

She volunteers to go drag Antiope out of bed. Might as well get this over with. Ant knows the routine by now, and knows she actually enjoys it some mornings, and doesn’t want her baby sister to get read the lecture from their mom about the importance of physical fitness again. Corsica knows it by heart. She could say it backwards, probably.

She punches up the stairs, making noise and overall being a horrible example of her style of fighting as she comes up to Ant’s room.

And finds it empty. Bed unmade but cold, unused. Her pajamas still thrown in the corner by the little rug in front of her desk. The mirror at the opposite end of the room reflects the same thing she’s seeing: empty, unoccupied space.

Corsica checks the other rooms, just to be sure. Ajax’s and Prospero’s and Ulysses’ old rooms, which are now mostly additional recreation/work space, or set up for their mother’s tactical puzzles.

Nothing. She heads back down, asks if Ant was spending the night elsewhere, if their parents had just forgotten.

Hector stops running on the treadmill and hops off, pulling a sweat towel from around his neck and dabbing at his face, reading the look in Corsica’s eyes. Athena purses her lips, thinking. She orders another quick, thorough search of the compound. They all return with nothing, no sign or notice of Antiope.

Corsica calls the police. The detective who meets her—a goblin woman—asks all sorts of questions. Corsica was the last of their family who was with her. Dropped her off at school, didn’t give her a ride home. Didn’t see her come home. At school—which school? Aguefort Adventuring Academy.

Corsica suddenly remembers the girl from her junior class. The half-orc, the girl who hasn’t returned to classes since she noticed her absence. It may mean nothing. But two fighter students, in the same year at Aguefort go missing? The detective voices the same thought that crosses Corsica’s mind. She promises to do everything she can to find Antiope. She leaves.

Corsica calls her brothers on the way to work that day, driving solo for the first time in three years. From whatever corner of Solace they’re in, they listen, they look. They try to gather any scrap of information that may be related to where Ant went and who is responsible.

For seventeen months they are unsuccessful.

In the sixteenth month Corsica is pulled into one of the “cameras” on the property of the school. It’s a palimpsest in disguise. She is captured and held and unable to leave. She is captured along with every other teacher in the school, it seems. All of the competent staff, anyway. The former adventurers, the ones who could do something if a threat arose.

When she’s released from the palimpsest she sprints to the noise, the flashing lights and thunderous roars coming from the gymnasium. She sees her baby sister Antiope, at least six inches taller than she remembered last, her clothes all stretched and too short for her limbs. She’s firing arrows and her aim is wonky and the bow seems too short for her reach, but her sister is alive and she pulls her crystal from her pocket and group calls her family to get to Aguefort right now and the Jones’ all find a way to Aguefort in the next hour. But Corsica hugs Antiope first, and apologizes, for her and for the rest of the family.

Antiope hugs her back but doesn’t talk much. The next morning she comes down earlier than routine and finds Corsica in her room, still getting ready, and asks to be dropped off at the mall later to get new clothes.

In the light of day she can really see all seventeen months stolen from her baby sister. How angled and unsure of her new height Antiope looks. How her spatial awareness is the most off it’s been since Ant was a kid. Since around the first time she got a growth spurt.

That morning she lends Antiope some of her own gear. It’s not a perfect fit, but it will work until they get something better.

Their parents offer to give her the option of summer school to make up on the training Antiope lost to being out of time, and she refuses. She sticks to the routine. Corsica starts offering rides home after school as well. Ant refuses, but her eyes are hiding something as she says no.

In the seventeen months Antiope was gone, their parent’s didn’t touch her room except to tidy it in anticipation of her return. To come back to something orderly would be a relief, surely. To come back to routine.

But Corsica did notice her parents act a little…different, in the time that Antiope was gone. A more noticeable version of empty-nest behavior than she’d seen from them before. Not that they didn’t care or weren’t looking, but they had no kids to currently raise. Their habits shifted accordingly.

And when Ant came back, they didn’t revert back to the old routine. They kept going as is and Ant had to adapt to the new way. Corsica saw something growing in her little sister, the baby, the brat, Ant, that she had only occasional glimpses of before.

When Ant’s temper flares and she gets into staring matches with their mother over breakfast, when she says things that are wild and disrespectful and unimaginable, she’s sweating just imagining saying that to their mother, she sees that her baby sister isn’t the same girl they lost a couple years ago. She is, age wise, nineteen and going into her senior year. She will be twenty by the end of it. She is a teenager who lost seventeen months of life in suspended animation, body growing without her mind present. She is someone completely new and relentlessly familiar wrapped into one.

Corsica gives her a ride to school. She gives her advice. But she doesn’t break routine.

Antiope does.

[dimension20fanfiction]

Fantasy College

Written by AO3 Author outofthedormroom

Summary:

I love Dimension 20 so much. I wasn't done with the characters and wanted to write some fic. So this is the bad kids headed to college.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365514/chapters/40862489

Chapter 1: Is it lunch time yet?

Chapter Text

Adaine clicked the locks on her suitcase into place. She looked around the small apartment she’d called home for the past two years. Since moving out of Jawbones’ place after her 16th birthday she’d made the apartment above the deli her home. Adaine was excited to go to Aguefort University of Violence; the university was only a year old. At the start of her senior year Professor Aguefort announced that since he had died, came back to life, and took back control of the Adventuring Academy he was bored and wanted to be a dean of a fancy university. Since none would take him he started his own university. Only 6 people died during the first school year so it felt like a safe choice. As Adaine finished taking her last look around Zadye floated into the room.

“God dammit Zadye, just because it is my last day here doesn’t mean you can break the not announce yourself rule.” Adaine said annoyed.

“Now that you’re leaving I need to prep this place for one hell of a haunting.” Zadye said very pleased. “What is scarier this…” The room became icey cold and sets of eyes seemed to fill every shadow “or this?” Blood starts to drip down the wall and the smell of death takes over the room.

“Still not over being kicked out of the theatre department?”

“It was a bullshit call from Ms. Jones!” Zadye took a pause. “Hey Adaine, this shithole will be my main haunt but would it be cool with you if I haunted your dorm room from time to time?”

“If you can follow the announcing yourself rule then yes. If my roommate is terrible then you only need to follow that rule if I’m home.” Adaine offered. She was going to miss Zadye not his mellow drama goth kid stuff but the person, while ghost, under that front.

“I will scare that bitch to death if she doesn’t meet your cleaning standards.” and puff Zadye was vanished.

“Zayde, just because you don’t want to confront your feelings doesn’t mean you leave the conversation.” Adaine yelled and a bloody middle finger appeared on the door. She rolled her eyes and left the first place that ever felt like her home.

As she closed the door a text came in from Fig.

---

“Fig, you haven’t packed anything! We have to move you in tomorrow!” Sandra Lynn yelled from stairs to the attic.

“Ugh Mom get off my case!” Fig yelled continuing to play her bass behind a closed door.

“Now Fig, I know I’m not your parent and it’s not my place to tell you how to live your life but it is my job to help get you college ready. And as a guidance counselor I can tell you, you have to pack your stuff before moving into your dorm room.” Jawbone offered. Fig could tell that he was standing by her mom.

“I have until 8am. I’m working on a sick song called I’m in College for a Great Time.” Little did her mom know that she wasn’t technically in college. Arthur was just letting her move into a dorm in exchange for her playing at the on campus coffee shop.

“I’m calling your father!” Fig hit a cord.

“Which one?” Sandra-Lynn didn’t answer but Fig could hear her calling someone. The crystal ran when a voicemail picked up. It was muffled but Fig’s keen ears could make it out.

“Hello you have reached Principal Gilear Faeth, I can’t come to the phone right now but….Ragh stop it! I’m not the lunch lad anymore, no need for the BBQ sauce. BEEP” Gilear had had that voicemail for nearly a year and he couldn’t figure out how to change it.

“One down, one to go! Either way, I’m not starting for a while.” Fig called out. She knew she pushed her mom too far when one of her arrows hit the door lock breaking it. Her mom pushed the door open with Jawbone behind her.

“Fig, it is 6pm the day before you start at AUV. Get it together. You don’t want to forget anything. You need to get started, I don’t know what you need.” Sandra Lynn looked ready to start a mom rant.

“Ugh, I have a plan!” Fig put her bass down and picked up her crystal. She send Adaine a text asking her to cast unseen servant to pack her bags. “I just texted Adaine to help!” A moment later Fig’s items start sort, fold, and pack themselves.

“Well you’re not always going to have a wizard around to help.” Sandra Lynn said, rolling her eyes. After they left, Jawbone and Sandra Lynn shared a laugh.

---

“I am Fabian Seacaster, Son of Hallariel Seacaster, and I am here to get my room assignment.” Fabian declared at what looked to be the weakling incharge of check in.

“Does Seacaster start with a C or an S?” The man asked. Fabian narrowed his eyes.

“Are you mocking me?” He flipped over the table and lifted the man in the air. “I can tell you right now you do not want too…” The man vanished from his hands. “Where the hell?”

“I found it by your first name, you’re the only Fabian of your class. You are living in The Hall of Our Fathers’ floor 2. And lucky you; a single!” The man had blinked a few feet away.

“Fabian, try not to kill the RAs.” Hallariel said coming up from behind. “Now my baby needs your finest suite.”

“Well, we have dorms not suite. Fabian has been asided our average-ist single.” The RA said. “I am Swaine Smyth and I will be you RA. Now I’m not going to write you up for grabbing me cause I’m cool like that but consider this an informal warning.”

“While Swaine consider yourself warn!” Fabian whipped around, paused for a moment and turned back. “Now how do I get to my dorm?” Swaine gave him direction. Fabian and his mother headed off for the dorms followed by pirates carrying all of his things.

Once they reached room D20 they were surprised to see Gilear. Hallariel greet him with a kiss. Fabian considered killing for the millionth time.

“Fig’s fake father what are you doing here?” Fabian said as he opened the door.

“Oh...well Fig and Gorthalax are running late. I think they went to hell to get some decoration for her dorm. I thought I’d said hello to you, your mother, and our future child.” Gilear said touching his mother’s stomach.

“I cannot believe you will be the father to my future awesome brother. He will have so much to overcome being half you.”

“Hurtful...well I will go see if I can find Fig. I believe she is in room D6.” Gilear left. As he turn Fabian noticed a single bean on the backside of his pants.

---

“Thank you so much for helping me move in. My parents are at a church fundraising and won’t be coming till later.” Kristen said to Tracker as she hopped onto her freshly made bed.

“No problem,” Tracker said joining Kristen on the bed “I can’t believe you got a single.”

“Perks of knowing the dean and founding a new region that is extremely popular among young people so I can afford a little upgrade.” Kristen said looking at her pride flag with YES! Printed over it.

“Hey, makes it easier to come and visit.” Tracker said as she snuggled closer. “Plus it makes it nice that you won’t freak out any roommate trying to convert them.”

“YES! Doesn’t want me to convert per say just ask people to care more.” A knock at the door or room D4. “Here come my folks, let’s be extra gay.” Kristen said getting up to greet her parents Mac and Donna as well as her brothers Bricker, Buckey, and Cork.

“Kristen; you missed a great corn cake breakfast. We raised 400 gold pieces for Sole!” Donna said excitedly.

“Mom, we both know that Sole doesn’t need money. He runs the most profitably chain of self tanning places ever. It’s the Fantasy McDonalds of sun tanning. The best thing that ever happened to him was falling from the heavens.”

“Kristen, don’t be like that Sole needs to to make sure Helio’s beer pong x-sports league gets off the ground...I see she is here.” Mac said looking at Tracker.

“Yes Dad, my girlfriend of 3 years is here to help me move in since you were raising money for beer pong sports.” Her brothers had gathered around Tracker.

“Tracker! Do the trick for us!” Cork begged. “Please!” Added Buckey.

“Okay but you guys need to make me mad.” Tracker said. The three boys started make funny faces. In response, Tracker turned her face into that of her wolf form. “Howl, howl, howl” chanted the boys. Tracker started making wolf noises to entertain them.

“I don’t love the boys playing with people like...while you know.” Her dad trailed off carefully watching Tracker.

“Gay people? Like me? I don’t know why I invited you. We can either go and have a nice meal at the family move in lunch or you can leave and keep being a homophobe.”

“Don’t call us that, we love all people but we don’t trust all people” Her mom shot back.

“Homophobes it is; hey guys” Kristen turns to her brothers who were still being entertained by Tracker. “Because mom and dad are bigots you have to leave and stop playing with Tracker.”

“Mom and Dad being bigots ruin everything!” Bickery declared as Kristen family left.

---

Riz hung up his PI license on the wall of room D8. It was truly the most beautiful thing he’d ever see.

“Ok Riz, you are unpacked. Sorry I can’t stay long but my case is taking up so much time. Here is a Baston Market gift card in case you get hungry. Gorthalax and Fig are stuck in hellish traffic but they should be here by lunch and he can help you with anything. Is there anything else I can do before I had back to HQ.” Sklonda asked.

“I get it mom. In four years I will have the same problem.” Riz said. “Plus I can text the other bad kids and see if they are free to do things on the green and other such college student fun.”

“I’m so proud of you sweetie and I know your dad would be too.”

“Thanks mom.”

---

Gorgug drove the car as his parents cried in the back seat.

“Gorgug, buddy we are so so gd proud of you! It seems like yesterday you died for the first time and now you are starting college. Before you know it Wilma” his dad started crying harder. “Wilma we will be grandparents.”

“Now Gorgug, while we are sad you are leaving the tree we are mainly proud of you for going to college and being an all around great kid.” Wilma said choking back tears.

“I know, you’ve been proudly crying all day. We missed check in.”

“Oh gosh darn it did we keep you from having an important college experience.” Digby added. His parents cried harder. Gorgug stepped on the gas. They were going to get to campus just in time for the move in family lunch.