vipetriol

[vipetriol]

99lostsouls​:

the moment ortho locked eyes with the ghost, he froze. like a prey gazing into the eyes of a predator, trying not to move to live.

unfortunately, this was no poor sighted dinosaur they were dealing with but— trey’s trick gave him an idea.

❝ I’m sorry sir…I don’t know what you mean. what bag? ❞ slowly reaching down, ortho picked up the “pile of leaves”, holding it close to his chest.

❝ my friends and I are new here… but when we were livin folk we’d use to play in the leaves! you understand the search for nostalgia, yes? ❞

the ghost seemed to be considering until-

❝ …oho you ain’t getting the best of me! I can see the color on you youngins! plus, that little scraggly one’s stealing right now! you’re after my bag– wherever you put it! ❞

a fixed smile. ❝ what color? ❞

@hyaina @troisfleur @threadedwheels​ @vipetriol​

Trey and Ortho’s approach is straightforward, but it seems to be taking effect. Though the ghost might be brash, his conviction is beginning to waver. He’s confused, caught off balance. Just another push and they just might get away unscathed. 

It takes very little effort for Jamil to look like any semblance of life — or, at the very least, the will to live it — has been drained out of him. He doesn’t need to look at himself in a mirror to know he’s seen better days. The surge of adrenaline brought upon the battle at the castle has subsided, and the lack of sleep over the course of the past couple of weeks is catching up to him, weighing on his eyelids and his lower back. 

He smears the makeup around his eyes, accentuating his exhaustion. When he walks up to them, he allows his now-dishevelled fringe to cast a shadow over his features. 

“ Never thought I’d see the day we’d be mistaken for the living,” he scoffs, tone flat and voice low. “ I sure as hell don’t feel alive. Why, do any of you? ” 

@hyaina @troisfleur @threadedwheels @99lostsouls

AFTER finding nothing of note from that ruined castle, leaving the area was a given but— the venture only led the group into another strange place.

the remains of a dead forest surrounds them. the path ahead was dark, decorated with dried leaves & torn off tree bark. utterly perfect for alerting anyone nearby of their location with just one misstep.

ortho did his best to assist by shining a light ahead for the group to see. reflecting on the path like bright flashlights from the android's eyes— it made the trek just a bit easier.

❝ ah— i see something ! ❞

ortho had mostly been quiet during their walk, but when he spotted an old backpack among the ruins he brightened up.

reaching down for the bag, the miracle was proven to be TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE when ortho's light highlighted another.

the owner of the bag, very displeased.

@hyaina @vipetriol @threadedwheels @troisfleur

[vipetriol]

hyaina​:

Ruggie has no qualms following Ortho. If there was anyone on this team best equipped to march on towards unknown terrain, it was undoubtedly Idia Shroud’s robotic brother. Ruggie finds a sense of ease walking alongside their humanoid companion; as long as Ortho’s tech gear remains working, aren’t they practically indomitable?! Steely resolve lets the hyena trek onwards, taking on the infinite staircase until a vivid light pierces his eyes.

“Augh–!” He gasps, instinctively taking a step backwards. He nearly missteps, heel going past the ledge, and Ruggie’s mid-maneuver as a strong force suddenly grips him. It prevents the hyena from tumbling, yet successfully discombobulates him as he’s practically spun onto cobblestone. Ruggie nearly topples from the drastic shift of terrain, eyes flying open in shock– Then a body thuds besides him. 

“T-Trey?!” The hyena yelps, barely processing what in the great Seven’s just happened, when he notices a specter charging at him from the ends of his vision. Quick reflexes enables him to wield his pen—

Ruggie rolls a 1: Miss! 

Painting Ghost rolls a 14: 1.5dmg incoming! Ruggie’s hp: 3.5 / 5 

—But he hardly has time to cast a proper spell as their assailant comes for him next.  The ghost’s spell crushes his shoulder mid-cast. Ruggie’s thrown back as black paint-ooze splatters onto his uniform, the gale that he summons goes off-kilter. It whirls past the ghost and slices the painting behind it. The intricate portrait slams onto the ground, echoing into the abyss. 

@threadedwheels / @vipetriol / @99lostsouls​ / @troisfleur

A morphing world. A dry thud. A stifled yelp. A gust of wind.

Trey is on the ground in the blink of an eye.

Jamil’s mind hasn’t quite caught up with the barrage of stimuli, but his body moves on instinct all the same— he doesn’t need another second to know they’re under attack.

Jamil rolls an 11 and a 9 for damage: Hit for 1 dmg!

Painting Ghost rolls an 11 and a 10 for damage: 1 dmg incoming!

Painting Ghost’s HP: 2/3 

Jamil’s HP: 4/5

A fire spell cast on reflex finds its mark. The foul smell of burning oil paint rises into the air, and a shrill, inhuman wail reverberates across the castle’s stone walls. As it writhes against the frame it had presumably gone out from, the ghost seethes, now settled on its next mark.  

Jamil prepares to retaliate, but the earlier soreness returns with a vengeance, sending painful jolts across his right arm. He’s half a second too slow in casting a defence spell, and the incoming strike sends him crashing onto the cobbled ground.

@threadedwheels / @hyaina / @99lostsouls / @troisfleur

[vipetriol]

hyaina​:

He can’t help his ravenous disposition! Ruggie crinkles his nose, but doesn’t protest as Ortho pushes him away. Jamil’s nomination for Trey to be their leader strikes his curiosity. It makes sense, theoretically, but the thought of being led by someone with as much assertion of a kudu almost makes him snort. 

Well, noncommittal leaders came with certain advantages, too. 

Pale eyes flicker towards the bar nonchalantly placed in Trey’s pocket. Ruggie feels his fingers itch, but keeps them at his side. Instead, as the team discusses their predicament, he rotates his ears in an attempt to pick-up sound. 

“I’m not pickin’ up any noise here ‘sides us,” Ruggie pitches in, “No echoes, no movement, no mice, nothin’.”  He examines the nearby staircase, “So, we don’t really got a choice but t’go higher, right? Ember’s mirror doesn’t work ‘n Ortho’s connection’s all funky, the only other option we got is t’sit around like anxious prey waitin’ t’get plucked.” 

@threadedwheels / @vipetriol / @99lostsouls / @troisfleurs-blog​

Would heading to higher ground really make a difference? As far as Ortho’s connection and the mirror’s functionality are concerned, Jamil doubts it. The layout of the place doesn’t seem linear— not if the winding staircases stretching out in every possible, nonsensical path are of any indication. He’s not an expert in technology by any means, but navigating this place is bound to be more complex than blindly waving a phone around in hopes of reception. 

But, it’s true that they stand nothing to gain by staying here, and it’s best to get moving. 

While the group debates their options, Jamil notices a familiar bottle lying by his feet. He kneels down, sliding it into his pocket covertly as he pretends to tie his shoelace. 

“Seems like our safest bet to me,” he says, and he’s back on his feet. ��It’s better than standing still, at least. We should go.”

@threadedwheels / @hyaina​ / @99lostsouls​ / @troisfleur​

[vipetriol]

Free time? Not really. You’d expect Ruggie to know as much by now. Plus, Jamil wouldn’t peg his roommate as someone with an abundance of free time either, so the abrupt invitation isn’t only unusual, but suspect. 

( Then again, it is curry of all things, and it’d be a lie to say his interest isn’t piqued. )

He turns to face Ruggie, searching for any tells that might betray malicious intent. A beat passes in silence, then two.

With a huff, Jamil folds his arms over his chest, a sneer tugging at his lips when he finally says:

“Your treat, then? Since you’re going out of your way to invite me, I’m not paying a single mark.”

“MAN, I’m huu~uungry!” It’s a typical complaint following the conclusion of afternoon classes. Ruggie yawns, arms stretching skywards. Outstretched fingers passively try to hit the bottom of their door frame but narrowly miss. Ruggie wiggles his fingers, nose wrinkling as he finally steps into their room. He takes one step inside before he suddenly turns, facing Jamil. 

“How about we go somewhere t’eat?!” It’s less of a suggestion and, surprisingly, more of a demand. Ruggie looks at Jamil with a wide, expectant gaze, “I know a place ‘n they serve some rea~al good curry! We don’t gotta go t’our evening trainin’ cause our groups won that last exam, so ya got free time, ri~ight?”  @vipetriol

[vipetriol]

hyaina​:

“‘’Course I’m worried about my gummies, every scrap of food’s important!” Ruggie’s brows furrow defiantly, a frown tugging at his lips. They were premium quality, too! The good stuff that all the rich kids got that had frost-apples and artisan sugar and it was supposed to keep him afloat since the teams were gonna share their rations, but now they don’t even have rations to share! This sucks! 

The sound of a wrapper crinkling immediately sends Ruggie scurrying to Trey’s side, eyes wide and transfixed upon the bar. He only spares one second to check his pockets.

“I only got my magipen, no mirror.” Ruggie says. His peels dart from the ice cream, to Trey, to the other students, then back down at the ice cream. “An’ I’m also kii~iinda hungry…” 

@threadedwheels / @vipetriol​ / @99lostsouls​​ / @troisfleur​​

“I lost my bag, so gummies would be preferable to nothing, really,” Jamil admits. He doesn’t have the mirror either, and with his supplies gone, every scrap of food does matter— doubly so with Ruggie around. He shoots an all-too-knowing glare at the beastman. “You? Hungry? Never would’ve guessed.”

On the bright side —if there’s one to be found— having Ortho in their group means one less mouth to feed, but Jamil refrains from voicing the thought out loud, lest Ortho find offence to it.

“As both our senior and Heartslabyul’s vice-housewarden, I believe we can entrust Trey to ration our resources,” or so Jamil says. His tone is perfectly cordial, if not borderline sycophantic, but it was Trey who crushed the miserable bar in the first place, so he should take responsibility.  

“At any rate, we should take a look around. There might be some more stuff we dropped.”  

@threadedwheels​ / @hyaina​ / @99lostsouls​ / @troisfleur​

[vipetriol]

It’s always one thing after the other. Nothing ever goes as planned— and, quite frankly, expecting it to would reflect poorly on Jamil’s intelligence. That said, the absence of shock doesn’t equate to a lack of annoyance when things go awry. 

As his eyes adjust to the scenery, Jamil kneads his right shoulder, suppressing a groan. The rough landing had heightened the soreness brought upon preparing meal rations and first-aid kits (all of which, incidentally, are nowhere to be found now) until the dead of night.

Hoping the ache will let down eventually, he scans over the group he’s now saddled with, and releases a quiet exhale. 

It’s not as terrible as it could’ve been— These are people he can deal with. Probably.   

“Duly noted,” he tells Ortho. “Still, if anyone’s in need of—” 

He trails off when Trey gets up, face scrunching up in reflex at the sound.

team 3: You Are (Not) at Soup. ♣️

TREY CLOVER manages to hold onto his hat for the descent, the only thing he has to his name as dignity falls in time with his body free-falling through the air for a landing most unfortunate. It’s not the first time he’s taken a tumble—three years and middling (by his own measure, if asked, and as far as anyone will know) ability to balance on a broom’s made him no stranger to heights and the bruises and sprains that come with them—but this is the strangest one in recent memory.

It’s only by quick thinking on impact that his glasses don’t go flying off his face, but breath certainly leaves his lungs as Trey stays flat on his back for a good few minutes.

A few more, and eyes open to a world devoid of color.

“…Everyone alright?” When Trey pushes himself upright, something… crinkles?

↳[X] 🅰🅼🅱🆄🆂🅷— @hyaina / @threadedwheels / @vipetriol / @99lostsouls. ♣️

[vipetriol]

Same old.

@prince-kalim has sent: "Jamil!" Kalim calls out as he preps himself to leave. He decided on a trip to Sam's store to see if there was anything that he could get for the students currently stuck in Ramshackle. While normally he would let Jamil do all his shopping he felt the want to go himself this time.

Part of him thought to not tell his best friend and surprise him with something on his return but changing his mind last second he peeked his head into the others room.

"I'm going to Sam's store to buy some things, ok? I'll be back later!" He chirped before quickly turning to leave a bounce in his step. Maybe he could still surprise the other with something…

“No, you’re not.”

No sooner had Kalim announced his intentions than Jamil sprung from his seat and dashed after him. He catches up in a few quick strides, and grabs the back of Kalim’s uniform in order to restrain him.

“Care to tell me what the hell is so important that you have to go get it yourself? I stopped by the Mystery Shop earlier today, everything you need should be in your room already.”

Even if it wasn’t, letting Kalim handle any sort of shopping without supervision is a recipe for disaster: before they know it, Ramshackle will be swarmed with knick knacks no one has any use for, and Jamil will be left to deal with the clean-up.

— No, no. There’s no need to entertain that train of thought. Because Kalim isn’t buying anything, not today. Not if Jamil can avoid it.

“Have you even started working on your assignments yet?” Jamil doesn’t know why he even bothers asking— the answer is no, nine out of ten times. “Look, just tell me what you want and I’ll fetch it myself. Stay put, and get your work done. ”

[vipetriol]

Lone Digger

➤ [ 6:15 P.M. School Gym. ]

Fifteen minutes. 

Club activities have concluded for the afternoon and in the middle of  the empty gymnasium, stands Jamil. Solitude comes as a pocket of fresh air in the midst of an otherwise swarmed schedule. He’d offered to stay behind and handle clean-up by his lonesome, all for the sake of this fifteen-minute grace period before returning to his duties.

Fifteen minutes and no longer. Well, it's more than enough.

With headphones on and song on loop, Jamil places his bag on the bleachers, props his phone against it, and presses record. He’ll repeat the choreography three times, review the recording to assess his performance and return to Ramshackle. No one will be none the wiser. 

Well then, here goes.

[vipetriol]

Get’cha Head in the Game. 

About Jamil & the Basketball Club〈 Part I : Club Choice 〉

Disclaimer: Raffles is more of a fútbol (⚽) fan than a basketball one and isn’t super knowledgeable on the sport. This meta mostly revolves around my interpretation of Jamil’s feelings towards the club and his reason for choosing it over other options. A small head’s up: this makes small, passing references to Jamil Clubwear voicelines, not yet released in EN.  It will be split into three parts: Part two will discuss Jamil's position in the team, his behaviour during and after practice, and general gamestyle. Part three will handle his dynamics with other club members and his feelings towards them.

Overview

Despite the fact he might not be fully aware of it, Jamil is closest to acting like his authentic self during the time he spends in basketball practice. It’s not that he’s specifically driven by a deep love for the sport or that he is especially fond of his teammates— rather, it just so happens to provide an environment where he can loosen due to the absence of his usual stressors and responsibilities. Because Kalim isn’t part of the club, he doesn’t have to worry about prioritising his safety or undermining his own abilities; in other words, he doesn't have to play for anyone's sake other than his own, allowing him to present a part of himself rarely on display prior to Book 4 in canon.

[ Continued below. ]

Why Basketball?

Jamil’s choice of a club can most easily be boiled down to the sport being an enduring hobby of his. He played basketball with his middle school friends prior to his arrival at NRC and remembers the experience fondly (Jamil Clubwear Voicelines). However, given other major interests and the wide array of skills he has —namely, dancing, cooking, and Spelldrive— make the choice appear a bit unusual. 

On one hand, Jamil not choosing a culture club revolving around dance or performance can be easily explained: Kalim is also musically-inclined. Jamil believes that, had he chosen a club with some tie to music, Kalim would’ve been likely to follow, therefore defeating any purpose of genuine leisure during club activities. To top it off, the Pop Club Music is too lax for someone like Jamil, who highly values structure, order, and feeling a sense of accomplishment.   

Then, there’s the Science Club. Jamil has an aptitude for alchemy and has a higher motivation in that class than he does in other courses (Magical Archives). Despite the fact that he tries to undervalue his own interest in cooking (Dorm Uniform Voicelines) his actions and comments towards food across different stories  (Master Chef Vignette, Dorm Uniform Vignette,  Fireworks Event, etc.) show that he cares more about it than he initially lets on. Parallels between his experience with cooking and his performance in alchemy are drawn often  (Jamil Labwear Vignette, Alchemy Lesson Voicelines), meaning that participating in the Science Club would appeal to both interests simultaneously. However, Jamil is a highly competitive individual at his core. He holds victory over others as a way to affirm his own abilities close to his heart, despite the fact that his circumstances won’t allow him to freely pursue it. Therefore, even if it had helped him hone his skills and knowledge within the field, the Science Club wouldn’t have provided an outlet for Jamil to appease that side of himself. 

Out of the culture clubs, the one which would’ve best fulfilled Jamil’s needs would have been the Board Game Club. It would’ve provided ample opportunity for him to engage in friendly competition and appealed to his interest in strategy and planning ahead. He is shown to be good at mancala (Book 4) and would’ve likely enjoyed other 

But the club still poses its own set of problems. First, there’s not a lot of space for him to hide; Jamil tries to conceal his own cunning nature from others, but this part of him would be easily made clear to those playing strategy-based games against him for an extended period of time, even if he attempts feigning defeat. Second,  is a need for physical exertion. Jamil finds it easiest to relax and forget his worries whenever he’s dancing or playing a sport— physical activity overrides his tendency to overthink. The Board Game club, on the flipside, would exacerbate that quality of his.  There’s a third, final reason he’d avoid the club at all costs, but it goes without saying. Have a guess at what that is. 

When it comes to other sports clubs, the Equestrian Club and the Track & Field Club are easily discarded by virtue of being solo sports without a focus on strategy. Not only does Jamil avoid  the limelight and defer it to other people whenever possible to conceal his own abilities, he also thrives on executing carefully laid out plans that allow him to exert control over others and goad them towards playing into his ploys. Neither of these two clubs would allow him to do so.

Had Jamil arrived at NRU under different circumstances and without a need to worry about appearances, it’s  likely he would’ve joined the Spelldrive Club, or at least highly considered it. It’s a competitive team sport relying on magic mastery, agility, flight, and strategy, and Jamil has a knack for it: he plays as part of Scarabia’s team and is considered to be a key player (Book 2), as well as being proficient in flight (Azul PE Uniform Vignette). But, Spelldrive is THE sport on campus, meaning he’d have to take it as a serious commitment rather than a passtime, and it’d be significantly more difficult to maintain a low profile. Much as it would in the hypothetical scenario with the Board Game Club, the skills he tries to maintain hidden would make themselves known, and Jamil, prone to self-sabotage and stifling his own ambitions, would not be comfortable with the scrutiny. Speaking of self-sabotage and outside scrutiny just so happens to tie in with the final reason he’d avoid Spelldrive— guess what that is x2. 

Therefore, when first choosing a club, Jamil settled for something that would provide four main factors: physical exertion, competition, teamwork, and leisure.

Now, with all that said, the biggest reason for his choice of a club: The Basketball Club is described as a meritocracy (Floyd PE Uniform vignette; Ruggie Outdoor Wear Vignette Part 2) where members are judged on their skill, rather than seniority. Their standing as freshmen, sophomores, and seniors is less important than their ability to play the game, and this is what earns them a spot in the starting lineup. Therefore, being a servant of the Asim family or Scarabia's vice housewarden are irrelevant within the basketball court; he's a player first and foremost, judged on his own merits. In that sense, the members of the basketball club are the closest thing he has to peers of equal standing, resulting in Jamil displaying a significantly more sincere side of himself whenever around other club members as compared to other people.   

[vipetriol]

The lie is so unapologetically transparent, Jamil feels almost impressed — almost. Ruggie’s nerve does little to quell Jamil’s simmering irritation.  

It’s uncanny, sometimes, how closely Ruggie resembles someone Jamil used to hang around some years ago; the type of guy who would hog the stash of stolen apples and melons after their escapades around Camel Bazaar and Zaheeb Market, perfectly shameless through the entire process. 

He doesn’t know where that guy is or what he’s up to these days but, whatever it is, Jamil would be willing to wager it’s probably not unlike what Ruggie is doing now. Which is exactly why he knows that forcefully trying to pry the truth out of the beastman is a lost battle. 

Yelling at Ruggie won’t get Kalim’s food back, it won’t turn back the clock and spare him the wasted hours in the kitchen, nor will it return the lunchbox that’ll surely find its way to a pawnshop in the recondite corners of the island.  

If anything, it’s only bound to motivate Ruggie to get better at covering his tracks. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” so he does the only sensible thing and nods in agreement, expression grave. “I’d like to find the one responsible as soon as possible. To be honest, I always dose Kalim’s meals with slow-acting poisons so he can build resistance. I don’t know what effects the dosage could have on anyone else, and well, I rather not start the month with a body count.”

but i was huuuuungy!

@vipetriol​ sent:  [THIEF] for one muse to confront the other after having something stolen by them.

“ Oi, Ruggie, ” Jamil calls out the second the beastman steps into their shared room at Ramshackle. In lieu of a greeting, he crosses his arms and, surveying his roommate with unconcealed reproach, adds: “ I can’t find Kalim’s lunch anywhere. You wouldn’t happen to have seen it, would you? ”

Though unvoiced, the underlying accusation is made clear— you took it, didn’t you?

Ears droop in guilty conscience. It’s an instinctive reaction, a habit that the hyena beastmen just can’t curb. Factually speaking, it’s almost as bad as his impulse for thievery, if not entwined with it. Nevertheless, Ruggie’s steps halt near the entrance, one foot going backwards as if evaluating the possibility of a retreat. 

“Uh,” Ruggie responds eloquently– innocently– before a sheepish smile paints his lips. He chuckles nervously as a hand comes to scratch at the scruff of his neck, “I didn’t see anythin’ last time I left, haha…” He fidgets for a moment, until his eyes suddenly widen.

“Ya don’t think th’ghosts are robbin’ our food stash now, do ya?!” Ruggie’s ears spring up to full height. It’s a bold move to blatantly lie to someone as perceptive as Jamil, but what was a hyena if not the least bit audacious? “I got peach puddin’ in th’fridge that I’m savin’ ‘til after dinner, we gotta find th’culprit before they take that too!” 

[vipetriol]

Academics.

Perfectly average. Assuming cohort/grade size is around 165~ students, Jamil usually ranks around the 80th spot, almost with eerie accuracy. Whenever he gets closer to the 75th spot, the following exam period will have him rank somewhere closer to 85th. He never leaves the 75th-85th range, and he’s almost always somewhere between the 79th and 81st spots. This is a careful balancing act he carries out deliberately to make sure he stays somewhere in the middle, completely unassuming, neither remarkable nor reproachable. This is true even when grades drastically increase overall (E.G: because of Azul’s study guides) as he makes sure to adjust his performance in accordance to the expected over-saturation of drastically improved scores. Even though his academic ranking leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, he still finds satisfaction in knowing he’s capable of calculating his final standing with this level of precision. It’s a personal secret, a minor scheme he can be proud of despite the sour circumstances surrounding it. Surely no one will notice and find it suspicious, right?  ( He definitely thinks he could make it to the top two if he wanted to. But he doesn’t. So he’s not in the top two. And he doesn’t care. It doesn’t bother him. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest! Uh huh. )

Jack of all Trades. Jamil’s academic performance is even all across the board. As noted by Azul, he has no significant weaknesses or struggles with any course. Even though he’s constantly trying to conceal it, he has a lot of innate talent, with his main asset being  his ability to naturally pick up a wide array of skills and knowledge with relative ease. In this sense, he could be considered a multitalented prodigy. However, he stagnates just as quickly. Natural ability can only take him so far (which is usually "pretty good" or “impressive” but never THE best or exemplary) and he needs to put in that extra time and effort to be able to break through his own threshold and improve beyond his current level and be truly excellent. Of course, because he isn't allowed to outshine Kalim and must only use his skills for Kalim's sake rather than his own, he's never been allowed to exploit his talents and test how far he can go without restraining himself. Hence jack of all trades, master of none. As a small, personal treat, he allows himself to be slightly better at some courses— typically those that he feels especially interested in or that come naturally to him. Ancient incantations is at the top of that list, followed by Astrology, as they are the subjects Scarabian students are historically the best at, and in which the Sorcerer of the Sands is said to have dabbled in. Because of his admiration towards Scarabia’s patron, it’s important to Jamil that he perform well in these and that he absorbs the information best he can. He’s also adept at Alchemy and Flying, the first of which comes naturally to him due to his experience with detail-oriented work tutoring Kalim and preparing his meals, while the latter is more due to a personal enjoyment (expanded on below.) 

WE’RE SOARING. In spite of his efforts not to stand out in most fields, Vargas describes him as one of the best flyers in his class (Azul P.E Uniform Vignette). Based on his lesson voice lines, Jamil seems to forget himself and inadvertently performs better than what he intends to. He is repeatedly shown to be athletically inclined and uses exercise as a means to clear his mind, and flying is especially refreshing because it provides a temporary sense of freedom. While up in the sky, it’s easy for him to get lost in the feeling of weightlessness, a stark contrast to the responsibilities and burdens tying him down when on solid ground. Even though he tries not to be too flashy, he is described as an agile flyer, enjoys flying at high speeds, and doesn’t have a need to use his hands in order to manoeuvre his broom. This final point can probably be attributed to the fact that he has previous experience flying Kalim’s magic carpet, which involves a relatively “hands-off” method in its control. Having said all of this, it should also be mentioned that even though he enjoys it and is proficient at it, he’s not driven to excel at flight in the same way he wants to excel at dancing and cooking. Rather than a real passion, flight is a momentary escape, a means to unwind.

[vipetriol]

Bird Brain

@troisfleur sent: [CATCH] “THIS MIGHT BE YOURS?”

It’s a bird. Peacock, more specifically, looking just as confused at being caught as Trey is at having caught it. Confusion is nice, though; generally, when it’s Trey’s turn to feed the flamingos, they generally just threaten to knock the feed bags out of his hands and take a few fingers with it.

Trey’s the last person who should be handling birds, really. But, hey, quick thinking at least kept him from being at the receiving end of intimidation tactics. To be fair, the peacock does look like it’s considering violence. The tail feathers are most definitely ruffled. (After one swift, testing peck, Trey’s never been gladder to need glasses, as he’s pretty sure he’d lose an eye to its ire otherwise.)

“Don’t think this is a new and exciting breed of croquet flamingo coming to play, haha." Trey's animal linguistics grade from freshman year was honestly atrocious, but the harried squawks that follow the attempt at pecking his eyes out probably aren't very kind. "Mind giving me a hand?”

Peacocks are a symbol of royalty and status all over the world, and for good reason— with their proud gait and striking colors, they exist in the collective imagination as nobility incarnate. Doubly so for those born in the Scalding Sands, where they're a staple in parades and celebrations; the patterns of their plumage embroidered into the lavish silks that best represent their markets; and their colours —purple and green— present in clothing, banners, and souvenirs, stand as an emblem of a beloved princess’s resourcefulness and wit.

And well, isn’t that enough? Someone ought to stop feeding their ego, because they’re also some of the most ill-tempered, hostile, pompous, egotistical, downright insufferable birds Jamil has ever had the displeasure of dealing with. 

—Although, on second thought, perhaps that wasn’t actually true; his encounter with RSU’s resident goose back at the beginning of the school year still stood among the highlights of unfortunate events that befallen him in the past semester. 

Then again, if the peacock's expression and angry squawks (ones which Jamil is fairly certain are the avian equivalent of brazen obscenities) are anything to go by, comparing its current state to that of RSU's bloodthirsty mascot back during orientation wouldn’t be completely off-base. 

He must act quickly— lest it devolve into carnage. The last thing Jamil needs is Scarabia’s menagerie inflicting injuries on another dorm’s vice-housewarden, so there’s no time to waste on greetings, apologies, or explanations. 

“Stay still,” he instructs, grabbing the first piece of fabric he finds close at hand. It’s an old towel —Is it his? Maybe Ruggie’s? It doesn’t matter now— which, with a quick swing of Jamil’s magipen, is lifted into the air, hovering over Trey (and the peacock by extension.)

“ I’m going to drape this over its head— the dark helps them calm down when they’re agitated. ” 

[vipetriol]

Anise and Thyme

@threadedwheels sent: MEAL : for both muses to prepare and share a meal together.

Ember knocked on the door of Jamil’s temporary residence, a box of tea in his hands. He fiddled with his sweater for a few moments before the door opened.

“…care to have some tea and maybe some lunch with me? I thought it would be a nice break, maybe you could tell me about your home since I have already taken up so much of your time writing about my own.”

A brief look of surprise flashes through Jamil’s eyes upon opening the door. 

�� Ember, hello, ” he says, expression settling on a genial smile. “ I’d love to, but—”

Rejecting an upperclassman’s amicable invitation would be remiss, but he has to do the laundry, iron Kalim’s clothes, read over his homework, prepare his meal and— Ah, there’s an idea.

“ Actually, I was just on my way to the kitchen. I was planning on making some traditional dishes for Scarabia’s study group, ” Jamil explains, hoping to kill two birds with one stone. “ Would you like to sample them over tea? I’d be grateful for your opinion— if it’s not a bother, of course. ”

[vipetriol]

« I need to do more, for my own sake... »

« January Housekeeping » 

Waiting on me

» Trey; Ask prompt

» Ember; Ask mini

» Luciano; Midnight snack wrap-up

Waiting on partner

» None

Monthly Goal

» My main January goal is to earn at least 5 points for Scarabia before the end of the month. It may seem unlikely, but I am determined! I want to become more active and involved ic in the coming months.

» That, of course, ties in with my long-term 546-step plan to get Snake Whisper for Jamil before Chanel gets It’s a Deal for Azul. Step 254 obviously involves convincing Chanel to forfeit all of her points to Chade, but I won’t get ahead of myself. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. :chade: 

[vipetriol]

a comprehensive list of scenarios

feel free to combine multiple prompts or add  “ + reverse ”  to switch roles !   for reference, the one sending in the prompt is the one committing the action.

1.  GUEST :  for one muse to offer the other a place to stay. 2.  STORM :  for both muses to find shelter from a severe storm. 3.  MEDIC :  for one muse to show up at the other’s doorstep injured. 4.  SURPRISE :  for one muse to come home and find the other already inside. 5.  TRIP :  for both muses to road trip or travel together. 6.  BABYSIT :  for one muse to help the other home while they’re drunk. 7.  INSOMNIA :  for one muse to find the other still awake at 3am. 8.  AMBUSH :  for both characters to come under attack by the same enemy. 9.  DANCE :  for one muse to ask the other to dance at a party. 10.  STRANDED :  for one muse to help the other who’s stranded on the road. 11.  SERVICE :  for one muse to cover the cost of something for the other. 12.  SAFEGUARD :  for one muse to save the other from being hit by a vehicle or from some other life-threatening event. 13.  DAZE :  for one muse to wake somewhere and find the other hovering over them. 14.  STOWAWAY :  for one muse to find the other hiding on the same ship. 15.  TAXI :  for both muses to share the same taxi ride. 16.  MAKEOVER :  for one muse to help the other with a new outfit or hairstyle. 17.  LIFEGUARD :  for one muse to rescue the other from drowning. 18.  DISASTER :  for both muses to work together to escape a fire, flood, or other disaster. 19.  TRANSIT :  for one muse to sit next to the other on a public transport. 20.  SPRAIN :  for one muse to carry the other after spraining their ankle. 21.  EMPLOY :  for one muse to be hired as the other’s bodyguard, tutor, assistant, etc. 22.  QUEST :  for one muse to help the other with a task in exchange for compensation. 23.  SOOTHE :  for one muse to calm the other during a panic attack. 24.  RECOVER :  for one muse to return the other’s lost belonging. 25.  UMBRELLA :  for one muse to share their umbrella with the other on a rainy day. 26.  HEAL :  for one muse to nurse the other back to health from a sickness or injury. 27.  NIGHTMARE :  for one muse to comfort the other after a nightmare. 28.  REUNION :  for one muse to run into the other again after a long time. 29.  PRIZE :  for one muse to win the other a prize at a carnival. 30.  NUDE :  for one muse to walk in on the other while they’re changing. 31.  BED :  for both muses to wake in the same bed, naked or fully clothed. 32.  TRAIL :  for one muse to notice the other has been following them. 33.  EVADE :  for one muse to pull the other into an alleyway to escape their pursuer. 34.  THIEF :  for one muse to confront the other after having something stolen by them. 35.  CAUGHT :  for one muse to walk in on the other singing / dancing. 36.  FESTIVE :  for both muses to decorate for a special occasion. 37.  PRESENT :  for one muse to give the other a  (birthday)  gift. 38.  WEARY :  for one muse to wake up after falling asleep on the other. 39.  CAPTIVE :  for one muse to hold the other against their will. 40.  SNAP :  for one muse to yell at or push the other out of frustration. 41.  SLEEPOVER :  for one muse to stay the night at the other’s place. 42.  TRESPASS :  for one muse to trespass on the other’s property. 43.  BREAK-IN :  for one muse to discover the other robbing their place. 44.  MERCY :  for both muses to come across an injured animal. 45.  UNKNOWN :  for both muses to wake and find themselves in a strange place. 46.  ACCOMPLICE :  for one muse to assist the other at the scene of a crime. 47.  ASTRAY :  for both muses to take a detour and lose their way. 48.  RELAX :  for both muses to share a hot tub or hot spring. 49.  MUSE :  for one muse to model for the other’s art project. 50.  ACCOMPANY :  for one muse to give the other an extra ticket to an event. 51.  SALVAGE :  for one muse to retrieve the other’s belongings from a thief. 52.  MEAL :  for both muses to prepare and share a meal together. 53.  CEMETERY :  for one muse to find the other at a gravestone. 54.  REFUGE :  for one muse to shelter the other from enemies. 55.  ARRANGED :  for both muses to date or marry out of convenience. 56.  FAVOR :  for one muse to owe the other a favor. 57.  VACATION :  for both muses to book the same hotel on vacation. 58.  DEFEND :  for one muse to save the other from one or multiple assailants. 59.  CATCH :  for one muse to return the other’s pet that escaped. 60.  RESTRICTED :  for both muses to sneak into someplace they’re not supposed to be.

[vipetriol]

His goal for the year? As if he’d ever tell anyone what that is, let alone leave it out for the entire world to see. 

As long as it goes unvoiced, he can continue to hide under the guise of plausible deniability. Rid himself of any guilt should it ever come to fruition. It is far easier to express some vague, clichéd resolution. One that’ll become lost in the faceless mob whose halfhearted aspirations will expire within the month.

Bearing that in mind, Jamil looks up, skimming over the messages left by other students as if in search of ideas.

‘Get into the Top 50!’ ‘Become housewarden!’ ‘Punch Crowley.’

Yeah, right. Good luck with that. 

They won’t last a week. 

But, if it were Jamil…

—No. Best to resort to a similarly dull sentiment. Write ‘Improve my grades’ and be done with it. 

He knows that, rationally, but the marker’s tip hovers over the paper, hand frozen by his own conceit; even with a goal as mundane as this, unless he achieves that, his grades will remain the exact same come next year. 

…And what about cooking? Basketball? Dancing? 

Well, those are fine distractions and all, but remain mere distractions nonetheless. 

What Jamil really wants is—

…

With a quick flick of his wrist, Jamil finds his resolve at last and scribbles something onto the sheet. After finding a packed branch where his slip is sure to become obscured by the others, he ties it into a loose knot bound to yield under the first forceful gust of wind.

He watches it flutter alongside the rest for no longer than a second, and takes his leave. 

New year, New you?

Come the morning of the new year in the centre courtyard. Students and teachers alike would be greeted with the new addition of a bloomed Yoshino cherry tree. The white blossoms like clouds of snow against the pale wood. Entwined with the blossoms and branches raindrop shaped fairy lights that flicked and sparkled to give the tree a dreamy look like star lit rain frozen along the flurry.

A simple table sat at the base of the tree. Black slips of paper and gold sharpie pens sat with a small black wood sign.

‘Dear students and staff.

Come the new year many people set themselves a goal of self improvement or achievement that they wish to happen over the year. It is said tying said goal to the branches of a tree is meant to grant luck and good fortune for your endeavour.

On this table I have set some slips and pens for people to do that. You may add your name or leave yourself anonymous if you wish. Please tie your goals on the tree and maybe come the end of the year you will find your slip and feel proud of your achievements.

As always if you require any help in personal growth and options my office is always open Counsellor Froll.’

[vipetriol]

The knock on the door came with a bit of a rhythm, revealing a somewhat bundled-up professor on the other side. He carries a present box tucked underneath his arm, wrapped in a careful bow. "A Merry Christmas to you, little sprout!" he says with a slight chirp in his voice. "I hope you haven't been too cold with the lodgings."

"As for your response, this is mostly why I have not been given offense to your skepticism during our letters." He seems to wave it off like it was nothing more than something that we would encounter at work. "The staff and students alike share a bit of the NRU spirit, after all." He extends the box to Jamil. "After hearing your discussion for athletics, I thought these would be appropriate for you."

If Jamil were to open the box, he would find a streetwear hoodie and pants! The two articles of clothing appear to be casual clothes with some subtle streetwear accents at first glance, but looking closer, the fabric for both of them seem to be predominantly mixed natural fibers for breathability and temperature regulation with the aid of synthetic fibers for flexibility and durability. As a result, the outfit could be able to go through a lot of wear and tear for a good number of years if maintained correctly against a lot of elements. There are also some simple side features that help with quality of life such as detachable sleeves for the hoodie and a hidden pocket on the side of the pants, but it still looks like it would be useful for several situations and circumstances regardless. Whether he opens it or not, Godel will say afterwards, "With your hobbies and your daily life, I thought it was best to give you something that could be used for your everyday use that can still cater to your hobbies, and to keep your body temperature consistent in the process."

There wasn't enough in the budget for sneakers, but it was better to have the most optimized in some things rather than the full set being hosh-posh and thrown around. Also, if his instincts are right, Jamil probably already has own set of sneakers for such an occasion.

Nodding at Jamil's reaction, he looks down to his watch. "Well, I will not take more of your time, but if you wish to discuss about anything, you can meet me during my office hours or drop off a letter at my door if I'm around campus. Or if you have a burning question, I could stay for a bit longer." He gives a small bow in the head. "And once again, happy holidays to you and may your loved ones be well today, as well."

Mortified. Jamil was mortified. Yes, ‘mortified’ was the most apt way to put it. When this exercise had been introduced— no, imposed upon them, he had wasted no time in preparing for the worst case scenario. Barring anyone with outright malicious intent, he was expecting being assigned to someone who would shield themselves behind the temporary anonymity to pull a ridiculous stunt. 

Each letter received had been examined in detail before opening. He’d held them against the light for one, two, three minutes, bracing himself for any unwanted surprises that might’ve awaited him…only to find seemingly non-conspicuous messages awaiting him. They’d been perfectly friendly, in fact. He should have, for all intents and purposes, responded to that kindness in turn.  

But life lived as someone else’s first line of defence against assassination attempts was bound to breed a pathologically cynical mentality. Figures. 

Unlike the letters he had penned for Ember, he simply couldn't endure not being the one holding the reins of the conversation. He’d written his responses, wary of every word, and resolute not to allow important details to slip. That is to say, nothing that could be used against him —or Kalim, or Scarabia as a whole— in the future.

Even if only for the sake of outward appearances, most freshmen wouldn’t question the chain of authority. Other sophomores could take his skepticism without taking offence. And in the scenario where it had been one of his seniors, he would simply bow his head and apologise for the discourtesy. Unless he had been paired up with someone especially difficult, his hostile behaviour would be overlooked. 

But how was Jamil supposed to know he would be assigned to a staff member? Moreover, the staff member in question had been exceedingly kind. (Perhaps too kind, he thinks, but that's a matter best left aside for the time being.) Now, Jamil almost found himself wishing it had been a troublemaker: for all of his preparations, he felt as though he had been made a fool out of regardless. 

Even if Godel bore no resentment or ill-will towards him now, he’d perfectly squandered the opportunity to improve his standing with a professor. It looked bad, no matter how you spun it. The gift he had been given was far more thoughtful than many his own parents had given to him in the past (Oh, a poison detection kit? Thank you, mom. You shouldn’t have. Really. You shouldn’t have) and Jamil finds himself at a loss for words. So he now enters damage-control mode, and quickly surveying his options, arrives at what seemed the most sensible solution. 

“I—” he starts, “Sir, is it really okay for me to have this? You’re…far too generous, this is…thank you, really. Excuse me for a moment.”

He walks back into the room, searches through his belongings, fishes out a ticket tucked away inside one of his textbooks, and presents it to Godel.   

“It’s not ballet, but a dancing troupe from the Scalding Sands will perform in Sage Island next month. Please take this as a symbol of my gratitude.”