#i may like writing pre!ob riddle a lot but don't get me wrong! i'm very fond of riddle! it's just that when it comes to trey...

[advernia]

WILL YOU STOP THEM?

ONE —

The oddest thing is how real each gaze feels - it has the sharpness that gives an uncomfortable pricking sensation, the poke that makes the hair on the back of your head stand up.

Then there's the whispers - the whispers! They keep it all wispy, the kind that brings to mind the ghosts hanging around the school premises. It is noisy in same odd manner it is not, loud in the same manner that it could be easily carried away by the winds.

"Oh dear, oh goodness gracious! Do you see that over there?"

"A diamond painted over his eye... Orange hair... Oh, is that him? The one that had dared to leave Lady Rosalia hanging?"

"My! To abandon an arrangement with a lady such as Madame Rosalia on such short notice! What a display of inconsideration!"

"And to think that the Madame was absolutely delighted to have some people to keep her company, if even just for an hour..."

"Hmph, what do you expect? This school is simply filled with boys, not gentlemen - you lot set your standards too high!"

"To ask that everyone of this school be a gentleman is quite the lofty standard. However... is it too much to ask for basic human courtesy?"

Ace listens to all this and more as he and Cater cross the corridor, the paintings hung up on the wall not letting up on their chatter as they passed.

"Wow," Ace says, snickering at Cater who seemed to hung his head low, away from a line of sight. "You're super popular today, Cater-senpai!"

TWO —

A tentative shake, a double take at the label. One last check to be safe: he pops the lid open, takes a sniff of the shaker. Jade tilts his head, brings a hand over his mouth.

Strange. Didn't he just restock this yesterday?

"For table thirteen!"

Jade instinctively draws himself closer to the counter, allowing one of the cooks to deliver a finished dish smoothly towards the service area. There's a light savory aroma that wafts when the chef passes by, along with something a touch robust.

"Are these the spinach puffs?" Deuce Spade's voice echoes into the kitchen, tone doubtful. "... Huh. Smells different."

Setting the shaker down on the counter, Jade lifts his head up to look at the overhead cabinets. If he was right, the stocks for the herbs and spices should be at...

"You try making 'em yourself, wise guy," the chef snaps back. "Followed everything to the letter - onions, dill, parsley, cilantro..."

... hold on now, wasn't that too much herbs?

"S-sorry, senpai... I wasn't questioning your cooking. It just smells different from how the other chefs made theirs, that's all."

Jade looks over to the serving area, to where the two anemones were talking.

"And I think your nose's all clogged up from serving food all day," the chef huffs, pushing the plate of spinach puffs off to Deuce. "That stuff's the real thing, so go on! I got other food to fix!"

So that's how it goes: Jade watches the two go their separate ways, one back to the cooking station and the other off to serve food to a waiting customer.

"Ah," Jade chuckles to himself, staring at the half-full parsley bottle in his hands. "Now I see."

THREE —

Forty yards away from the goal, and the opposing team decides to do this:

the one coming from his left side is literally rushing towards him, head lowered like a bull's and hands formed into tight fists around his sides.

the one behind him, trying to catch up to him - is mumbling some incantation. Based on how the air draws a bit thinner as he moves forward, it must be a wind spell of some sort.

the one running towards him, laughing like there's a damned party going on, has his arms extended like he's reaching out to perform a tackle. Looking closely, the nails of his fingers are all long and sharp.

So that's one aiming to take him down through brute force, the other attempting to hinder both his pace and breathing, and another more or less intending to injure him. Leona snorts, keeps running. The Magift disc is still a halo burning red atop his head, its floating state maintained by his magic.

Sevens, he wouldn't give a damn if all of them just charged at him at once, dirty tactics and all.

"All you mutts keep wasting my time."

FOUR —

There are core differences between the words I can't, I won't, and I will; and Trey Clover wears them on his sleeve, has them inscribed on the back of his hand.

I can't were the first words he wore when he had watched a young boy be kept away from the world by his own mother, I won't followed shortly after when that mother had threatened him with the biting edge of her tongue and the sharpness of her eyes. I will is a will half baked, a wish unfulfilled when he made his first strawberry tart but was never able to deliver it to his intended recipient, so there it just laid for years to fester. Forgotten.

Years later, he wears them again.

I can't for those times he chose to salvage a situation instead of directly addressing it, I won't for all those times he had watched the passed judgement of beheading.

How long has it been, has it been a year... no, two years already?

Have the words I can't and I won't formed his second skin now?

Even as he watched the young boy - that same young boy kept away by his own mother - drown in ink before his very eyes?

Where was his will?

1: no dupe lmao! here's everyone's context:

cater -> aww, i can explain! (see: cater school!uni card)

jade -> it seems that more training is required... (ch3)

leona -> seriously, is this the best you can do?

trey -> i have to go...! (ch1 overblot)