espritdediamant

[espritdediamant]

YEAH, THAT'S DEF NOT WHAT Cater was getting at with his remark, but instinct still makes him look: a glance spared across the crate's surface, along Ramshackle's porch, and down the stairs, and...

Uh-huh, Ortho managed to get this thing all this way without even leaving a scrape behind! Not that Cater doubted him to begin with, and really his confusion is more Um, Orthi, you're secretly super buff!? WTF? and not the methods of moving things, like, issue-free. Still. Cater can't help the little huh~ that gusts out of him with the confirmation. Small but mighty!

The more pressing matter is the baskets, though. Ortho springs into action and so Cater follows, drawing his pen from his pocket. An incantation and a careful flick sends some of the gifts levitating out of their crate—and unencumbers Ortho, too, the few he had collected up lifting from his arms with care.

"You did all of the work already of getting it this far," Cater begins in explanation, "And this sorta casting is kind of a breeze, sooo just tell me where to bring them for you, 'kay~?"

(There's a passing thought that Split Card probs could have just been used to carry them along, but... Eh. More Cay-Cay's than it's worth, and he doesn't really want to have them around if they have to break down that crate.)

the strength that little android harbored was frightening in a way…such a small build yet he could lift such things with ease.

it was second nature to ortho. that much was apparent by that puzzled look he gave cater. ❝ yes, I did. I didn't damage anything if that's what you mean. ❞ he spoke so casually, as if it was a no-brainer…

but speaking off the crate, these packages needed to get transported. ortho would nod at cater's suggested idea.

❝ good idea! the crate can be taken care of later. ramshackle needs more firewood, right?❞

ortho then began to scoop up some of the baskets into his arms, carrying them inside. shame the robot didn't have any magic himself…~

[espritdediamant]

"YEAH, IDK IF WE NEED to worry about the maidens and how much sway they have over things when it comes to you, bestie. And I don't need to worry about them because who needs maidens when I have Ganymede—the Mr Pretty!"

Allegedly, anyway. But if anyone's constellation was going to be ruled over by someone pretty, Aquarius deserves it.

—Which isn't really helping him focus, here. Cater clears his throat. "BUT, they are sure all over your chart. Astraea be with you, I guess~"

Cater steals his laptop back on that note, with a wry look offered to Trey's No Maidens? humour in good measure (kinda good, kinda also makes Cater want to groan and bury his face in a pillow because Okay, Awful but he has an assignment to finish, so indulging in the full misery of Trey Clover Puns isn't something he has the time for RN. Serious bizz only).

"But, yeah, lots and lots of earth sign. Like, mostly earth sign. So no wonder—and don't get all, you know, eugh about fussy. Maybe that was the wrong word, but you know how it is with Virgos..." Or maybe Trey doesn't, 'cause Trey dipped out of astrology pretty early on, but like—both of them know a Type One Perfect Example of a Virgo pretty well.

Not like Cater needs to reinvent the wheel explaining things they can intuit just by looking up to the Queen's bench every so often, TYVM!

"—Anyway, my point was, there's good stuff there too with your abundance of earth sign vibes and Virgo-y-isms. Having a solid representation of Mercury through Virgo isn't such a bad thing when your Sun is sooo... Head-Down-Hustle focused. Virgo putting a little nudge to communicate and foster community when Scorpio's a little more withdrawn on their goals—sort of a good balance."

Makes for a sort of perfect presence in a place like this, honestly, because NRU thrives on people who can get shit done and mind their own business. Trey's pretty good at both. Scorpio blessings are few and far between, but that's a dece one to cash in on.

"—What was I even talking about before you distracted me with the maidens?" Cater asks, nose scrunched as he looks back over at Trey, reaching for his assignment outline.

espritdediamant​:

#NotAllScorpios | CATER & TREY.

“NOTHING’S WRONG WITH VIRGO, IT’S just really loud in how your chart shakes out—that’s all. Also not houses. We’re not gonna deal with them, RN. Just signs and planets because we do not have the time to get into it.”

Maybe they would, if Cater had started this sooner and wasn’t feeling the time crunch. For what they’re worth right now, though, it’s a matter of bonus points here and a half point there. Tight timelines don’t really prioritize those over just being done, so it’s a correction Cater moves along from efficiently.

“We can start there with all the Virgo if you want, though, since I don’t really wanna, like, accidentally make a whoooole thing out of something in your chart and then move along about it. Besides, there’s kind of a teachable moment here, Trey-Trey, like—”

Helpfully or not, Cater turns his laptop around so the screen faces Trey, settled in the armchair as he is. Cater scoots to the end of the couch, and leans around so he see. A birth chart—Trey’s, duh—is displayed on the screen.

“See over here?” Pen withdrawn from between Cater’s teeth, he taps at the screen at three clustered symbols. “That’s a stellium—that’s, like, when three or more aspects are in one spot. With some execptions, like, the moon doesn’t count—but that doesn’t really matter for you here, el-oh-el.

“So, like, the same sign or house, things like that. You have three planets sitting in Virgo, which is why I was all like, whoooo, ooof, blah blah blah. Not just teasing, only mostly teasing.”

And it had been funny, even if Trey’s being relaxed about the whole staring into your soul and talking about you at length part. What a good sport☆!

“But basically all that means is that you might, like, find the themes of that sign way more represented in your life than you would otherwise, since there’s a pattern. Or it might kind of influence you to act in a certain way—especially because your rising and Mercury are sitting there.”

Hahaha. “—And Virgo’s all about order and fussy attention to little details, which, NGL, kind of tracks for you, huh?”

“NO HOUSES, THEN.”Trey’s amusement is at least palpable. It’s a rush job of an assignment, but Cater’s still found the time to imply that Trey’s chart is both straightforward (a lot of Virgo) and a mess (which is, apparently, too much Virgo). He doesn’t give the comment much more thought, really—he’s only harping on Cater for the sake of giving him a bit of a hard time. It’s the same when Cater drags him somewhere and hints, not-so-subtly, at what Trey should get for the best pictures of the outing.

Trey leans over in his seat as Cater all but thrusts his laptop Trey’s way, adjusting his glasses as he goes. It’s been two years since he’s had to stare down a dedicated star chart, and it feels a little strange being guided through what is ostensibly his own information. It’s a very objective look, the type that usually doesn’t give Trey pause (and even, to some degree, he finds sensible and comforting) but the singular point of separation ends up at the very least feeling a bit… odd.

But it’s fine.

(He’s thankful Cater remembers to define what a stellium is. He’s a little embarrassed that in three years of knowing each other, most of the easy terminology has gone in one ear and out the other. It’s probably the same way Cater feels when Trey starts talking about soil composition and his measurement log for his patch in the greenhouse—)

“Am I fussy?”

He promises he’s paying attention to Cater’s spiel. But it’s just too easy to keep prodding back.

“Haha. Well, I guess I was put in the dorm for a reason, right?”

At the very least, staring at this a little more jogs a memory in him, back to freshman year and looking at something similar, if not with a little less information than what Cater’s got going on. “So, I’m predestined to order and fussiness, and the sign of order and fussiness guides my decisions a little bit more than usual. I guess that’s why my assignments tend to get finished well before they’re due. And at least—if I’m remembering yours—at least I’m not maidenliness.”

(It’s mostly his attempts to set a good example for the underclassmen—that, and the unspoken fear of being collared for poor performance hangs over everyone.)

“I do have a lot of earth signs in my chart, though, don’t I?” A merciful pivot, as Trey does want Cater to finish sometime this evening. This much he remembers. “…Which should sway me more than the maidens.”

[espritdediamant]

"IT'S LOWKEY A CUTE SPOT, right? Kinda nice to just get off campus for a bit when you're starting something new—plus, like, good vibes make the studying stick better, YK?"

Whether that's true or not probably is up for debate, but Cater's always found a nice environment helps with keeping his focus a little more honed. The atmosphere's lively enough you don't feel awkward chattering along with a study buddy (unlike the library, sigh) and the aesthetics make for a more inspiring backdrop for proof-of-study snapshots taken along the way, lest your info sesh not be immortalized forever by a cute picture of your coffee, or something.

More than these: distractions are kept a minimum once you get off-campus. Without the potential for classmates or dorm members floating by with the regularity of NRU's typical study haunts, Cater can devote his concentration more pointedly to the task at hand. That feels important, considering he's roped someone else into his recreational study time.

Obvi, it would be pretty horrific manners to drag someone out to teach you something new just to be distracted the entire time—especially when they're offering up their expertise for little more than a promise of caffeination and reviewing their material. Speaking of—

"I could go order for us both—if you know what you want—while you settle in and stuff?" His belongings are already scattered on the table's surface, so Cater glances over his shoulder toward the café's front counter. There isn't much of a line to contend with. Attention back to Ember, and he moves, prepared to take to his feet. "Coffee? Snack? Both?"

ISO - PALM READING TUTOR

[espritdediamant]

"WHY WOULD ANYONE MAKE UP some mystery student just to say, like, 'BTW—that guy you don't even know? Poof! Totalllyyy gone. Without a trace? Without a trace!' That's not even good tea." 

With the closing of Cater's grimoire, he signals the true shift in priority. Nosiness winning out should be no surprise, NGL.

"Which means someone has to know who the disappearing guy is—because someone's supposed to be upset he's missing!" Which tugs on Cater's heartstrings, TBH. There's at least one person around campus who must have—should have—felt that disappearance enough to do something about it. “—And finding that guy might blow the whole thing open, you know?”

A dramatic sigh, and Cater slumps back in his seat. "I guess I just thought that maybeeee someone with all your zeal and training from someone as good as Lils would be really good at tracking down answers..."

SIGH. "Ohhh well..."

espritdediamant​:

❝ YEESH—ISN’T THAT… I DUNNO. Kinda harsh, Sebie? ❞

There’s a victory won in the textbook being lowered and, yeah, no longer feeling all that guilty about bailing on the studying for a little breather. Sure, there’s lot to do with Crowley’s latest getting dumped into their schedules, and Cater’s definitely gonna deal with it responsibly, as the upperclassmen on deck.

…Still, with a much more interesting missing persons case also tumbling into the equation, studying’s not the vibe, RN. Besides—the cool response being volleyed back from across the table is interesting enough to pique interest of its own.

❝ For a whole guy to go completely missing? Kinda spooky, and def not a no biggie kinda sitch. Honestly, I can’t even figure out who he, like, is—and I��ve been sleuthing—but like, what if he was from one of your classes, or your dorm? ❞

“  harsh? one should be able to protect themselves from the trials of modern day society.  ”   —  like the risk of being kidnapped,   common & everyday happenings  when the prince of briar valley is involved, apparently.    not every student endured the same amount of rigorous training that he & silver did to ensure they would be prepared for a surprise attack at any moment  —  nor did sebek possess the natural awareness to prove that he would ever respond within the time needed regardless,   but it didn’t stop his arrogance from working overtime.  

the extra work is nothing too bothersome,   considering that during this period they were intended to be on break;  the most that it would cut into was some time to do homework,   which usually did not take him the entire period of the winter break as it was.  frightening efficiency left him bored for the majority of it,   though bored could be quite the overstatement  —  less of a struggle to find things to pass the time,   simply that they lacked the feeling of accomplishment that his work for night raven college did.  

“  if no one truly knows of his character,   how can you be so sure that he was a student here at all?  hearsay,   all for the sake of drama.  ”

[espritdediamant]

'KAY, CATER'S PRETTY SURE THAT you're maybe not supposed to be able to just pop the lid of a whole crate of this size with your hands. Not that Ortho's, you know, beholden to most limits of what people should be able to do, but... Wild to watch, TBH.

Undeterred and only a little distracted by the fact, Cater leans over the edge of the crate to take a polite peek inside. As if the hint of restraint he offers will nullify how he's kinda, ish, ruining the surprise for himself. Not really a big deal, though.

“Aw, these are like, super cute, Orthi!” He leans back away from the contents, sizing up the crate and the door again. Lowkey a shame it won’t just shove through, ‘cause carrying them all one by one’s sorta've a slog.

Lips pursed, he considers their options. “We could probs levitate them inside? That'd be like, a little quicker. Doesn't really take care of the whole crate thing, though—you seriously pushed it all the way up here?"

....oh.

did he really not think of that?

for being an advanced AI, this was a strange lapse in judgment. maybe it was a count on how much he wanted to keep this a secret...

but ortho wasn't afraid to laugh off his own mistakes. ❝ we can! it'll take a few trips though...❞

cater's questioning of the box's contents was understandable enough. so when inquired ortho would finally give up his answer.

❝ ramschakle living's been a little difficult, so I wanted to get everyone something special. ❞

a hand hooked underneath the latch to the crate's opening. with enough force ortho was able to snap it open without much trouble.

inside was a collection of neatly wrapped gift baskets. they were all full with sweet treats or items protaining to the student whose name was attached to said basket, all tied together in a neat shiney bow.

[espritdediamant]

AS FAR AS TUTORS GO, Cater’s pretty sure he scored the jackpot on this one. 

For an idle curiosity, it’s gotta be an omen of good luck to get a top shelf divination student reaching out to you. Floating through the department means you always hear names, here and there, and even if Cater relegates himself to astrology and cosmic sciences, he knows what’s what: he’s heard the surname Parca a few times, enough to know his volunteer instructor knows his stuff.

Arriving first gives him the chance to stakeout a better place for their purposes. Usually Cater sits toward the front of this café for the people watching, but there’s a quieter ambience in the back and more room to spread out. The tools for palm reading kinda evade him, NGL, and he’s pretty sure you don’t need anything other than your hands—but better to prepare for the off-chance. A roomy table for two is claimed for them.

Positioned, obviously, so Cater can watch with time enough to yank off his headphones and stow them in his bag when the fabled tutor does arrive. While he gets settled, Cater’s side of the table is put to rights, belongings tucked aside.

“Heyyy—no problem! I’ve just been hangin’.” What are you supposed to do when, like, greeting a palm reading tutor for the first time? Shaking hands is kind of classic, but lowkey Cater’s been staring at his own hand since getting a text about the offer, and now he’s all like What if my palms are sooo weird and damning that a handshake feels way too forward. You know?

Settling for a wave and perked up attention, Cater continues, “Nice to like, actually meet you—and I waited to order ‘til you got here, BTW. You found the place okay?”

ISO - PALM READING TUTOR

( a bulletin board fulfillment with @espritdediamant )

ISO - Heyyy, listen up! I’ve always wanted to learn the 101 on palm reading, but every year I’ve had a schedule conflict with the courses offered. Soooo, would someone be down to tutor at an intro level even though I’m not in the class? If it’s the vibe, we should meet up over coffee. Think of it as a built-in café study sesh of the basics for you, and I’ll sweeten the deal by buying your order ♪ !

The brightly colored request had caught Ember’s eye when he walked past the bulletin board. That was the point of it, he figured, but the words “palm reading” caught his interest even more.

Of course Ember had taken the palm reading courses offered by the University. It was a given that the future Oracle needed to understand multiple forms of divination- kypomancy (through tea leaves), pyromancy (through fire), dowsing… even myomancy (through rat behavior).

He took the request down, sending a message to whoever this “Cater Diamond” was to plan out the details of their study… ‘sesh’.

___

It was less by decision and more by habit that Ember arrived late. He made his way through the cafe, cane tapping against the floor with every other step to make his presence known so people would at least scoot their chair in for him to get by.

“Apologies, Cater,” Ember mumbled, sitting down across from him, “Seemed to have lost track of time.”

[espritdediamant]

"TSUMMY—I APPRECIATE YOUR PASSION, and all—totally! I do!—but..."

"HHHHH !! Did you have to go and start a flame war with Neige stans !? That's soooo not my brand—and my notifications are gonna be clogged for a week..."

(—See: Cater Diamond, laying starfish on the ground, phone in his outstretched hand. He is not giving shavasana relaxation as much as he is giving defeated card soldier, conquered and done in by their very own tsum-brother in arms. What sweet betrayal the internet foists upon ye who least expects it.

Adjacent: Catesum, tsuming tsumily and using his tsum-belly to scroll through the war he has started online in Cater's mentions.)

"I guess it's not like I could have expected you to know saying that would start a whole discourse moment, but c'mon, you can't just call someone's ult a has-been like that..."

The phone is responsibly snatched away, even if Catesum scrambles diligently with its little legs to catch it. "Nuh-uh, no more posting for you today !! Now we're gonna lay low and wait for someone else to cause a shitshow on the TL..."

"When you get your own phone, I'm soooo putting parental controls on your tsumccounts."

[espritdediamant]

"OHMIGOSH—YESSSS, TSUMMY! JUST HOLD that pose!"

This thing might have descended from the sky in a blast of inexplicable bright light, but there's no distress nor peril to be found in their vicinity. No biting, hissing, or delightfully adorable maiming, either!

Behold: Catesum, twisting every which way in the evasive, sought after golden hour light of early spring !!

(—It's actually a little impressive, how its stumpy legs and bean-like body can manage to strike such compelling poses for just the right shot. Who cares if it's an alien with nerve-wracking similarities in appearance and disposition?

Not Cater, and not when it's soooo 'cammable.—)

"Tsummy, bestie, we're def gonna cinch a hit post with these ♪"

[espritdediamant]

❒ : My muse and gifts. (If they are good/bad at finding gifts, good/bad at receiving gifts, good/bad at wrapping gifts, e.t.c.) 

𓆩⟡𓆪 - memies symbol headcanon prompts [3/5] SUBJECT: GIFTS.

WHEN IT COMES TO GIFT-GIVING, Cater doesn't get that stressed about it. By virtue of having his finger on the pulse of all that's trendy, he also tends to be nosy about other people's interests, habits, and belongings. So long as he's been around long enough to someone to have had a chance to pry, he tends to have a good idea of what they like and (maybe more importantly) what they don't currently have.

As a rule, Cater tries to give people gifts that aren't just useless clutter. There's thought that goes into his purchases for other people, but not necessarily based on need. Things don't need to have a purpose (because sometimes a utilitarian gift really isn't the vibe, you know?). Rather, he prioritizes enjoyment instead of purpose. If it's going to be an aesthetic/fun choice over the easily defended gifts of practicality, it needs to make sense why he got it for them, because he hates having to defend his insight on this sort of thing - to personal, too awkward, just take the gift.

His mental scoring card is to weigh the values between "would they actively reach for this" and if not, "will it at least bring some joy sitting pretty on a shelf?" A rudimentary formula, but it helps to cut out overthinking.

Receiving gifts is a less streamlined, but he isn't necessarily bad at it. Cater doesn't mind asking for things when he wants them and a situation warrants it (birthdays, for example) but outside of that it gets trickier. Sometimes asking for things is more revealing than he really wants to be with most people, so he'll just pine about it instead and radiate some serious oh to obtain a little item vibes.

Gifts that are given out of the blue, for no reason, are kind of confusing even if they do delight him. Cater likes feeling like someone noticed something about him or anticipated a need, else picked up on the vibe. As long as it isn't too big, he can accept it without fuss. Substantial gifts make him feel somewhat awkward because he's just waiting to return the favour. He in no way discourages it, though.

Also, gift bags only, no wrapping. Cater could wrap your gift, sure, but why bother when a gift bag is guaranteed to look cute and aesthetic every single time? Easier to style and way more interesting to look at than a box. Unless he's doing one of those "wrapping things so they look like something different" pranks, he'll hit you with that tissue paper fluffing and a ribbon on the handle ♡!

[espritdediamant]

"NOTHING'S WRONG WITH VIRGO, IT'S just really loud in how your chart shakes out—that's all. Also not houses. We're not gonna deal with them, RN. Just signs and planets because we do not have the time to get into it."

Maybe they would, if Cater had started this sooner and wasn't feeling the time crunch. For what they're worth right now, though, it's a matter of bonus points here and a half point there. Tight timelines don't really prioritize those over just being done, so it's a correction Cater moves along from efficiently.

"We can start there with all the Virgo if you want, though, since I don't really wanna, like, accidentally make a whoooole thing out of something in your chart and then move along about it. Besides, there's kind of a teachable moment here, Trey-Trey, like—"

Helpfully or not, Cater turns his laptop around so the screen faces Trey, settled in the armchair as he is. Cater scoots to the end of the couch, and leans around so he see. A birth chart—Trey's, duh—is displayed on the screen.

"See over here?" Pen withdrawn from between Cater's teeth, he taps at the screen at three clustered symbols. "That's a stellium—that's, like, when three or more aspects are in one spot. With some execptions, like, the moon doesn't count—but that doesn't really matter for you here, el-oh-el.

"So, like, the same sign or house, things like that. You have three planets sitting in Virgo, which is why I was all like, whoooo, ooof, blah blah blah. Not just teasing, only mostly teasing."

And it had been funny, even if Trey's being relaxed about the whole staring into your soul and talking about you at length part. What a good sport☆!

"But basically all that means is that you might, like, find the themes of that sign way more represented in your life than you would otherwise, since there's a pattern. Or it might kind of influence you to act in a certain way—especially because your rising and Mercury are sitting there."

Hahaha. "—And Virgo's all about order and fussy attention to little details, which, NGL, kind of tracks for you, huh?"

espritdediamant​:

#NotAllScorpios | CATER & TREY.

“LITERALLY, DON’T EVEN JOKE ABOUT IT—you know I’ll give her a call. Lucky for you that’s plenty accurate, for now. Maybe, like, if I ever decide to poke around just to be suuuuper sure about your chart I’ll give Mrs C a ring about it.” What takes precedent for now is getting this underway and finished. Still. “Lowkey I might anyway, I miss her and someone didn’t let me say hi last time, but—anyway—”

Focusing. Deadlines really wait for no one, no matter how optimistically you think they might. Ugh.

Riled up is definitely an exaggeration, NGL, except only kind of because Trey’s right: Cater is a bit antsy to get this going. Not because of what he thinks he might find in his chart, but more going through the motions and making sure it’s still all tip-top. Astrology’s a breeze, sure, but that means there’s a higher bar to keep up with.

Not that the stress of balancing a steady performance in the class overrules the fact it’s fun. At the end of the day, Cater’s content to be here he is right now. The lounge is cozy, his set up’s workable and he feels pretty profesh with all his reference sheets and grimoire laid out on the table. Trey’s helping, even if pointing out the vibe being a bit tilted isn’t that constructive RN. The squeeze is a bit grounded.

Freed from their prodding, Cater exhales and leans over his work, plugging in the information. “Cap moon, Virgo rising.” Easily recalled, and Cater flashes a glance across. “You have all of the modalities in your big three, so they kinda lock themselves into memory. And, yeah, it tracks. It all tracks.”

“You still remember the gist for readings though, right? Like, they’re are a convo not a monologue, all about clarity, not answers? Blah blah blah…” That’s all pretty introductory stuff, but important to callout at the forefront anyway (technically it’s in the rubric that he does. And now he has! Crazy how fast progress starts rolling along once you, YK, start.)

The prelim’s enough for Cater to finally be staring down Trey’s chart, anyway. He can’t resist: he whistles, low, and purses his lips.

“—Oooohh…” Cater glances over from the chart and looks at Trey, faux grim expression. “Really? Ooof—” Pfffft. Back to the screen, seriousness of his fake shock crumbling; he’s not really much of a theatre club contender, TBH. Cater shelves his acting career to reprise his moonlighting as Super Profesh and Efficient Astrologer. “NGL, like, it’s not that cringe but also? Horrifying at the same time, somehow. What’s with you and Virgo being everywhere?”

“EVERYWHERE FEELS LIKE A BIT OF AN EXAGGERATION. And what’s wrong with Virgo?”

Presumably, absolutely nothing, but prodding at Trey seems to be the way to mark the time and make the last-minute assignment go down smoother. Cater is right, though, and it’s at least enough of a refresher to earnestly set Trey’s mind at ease, despite the teasing. Part of the reason he never continued on through the higher-level astrology and divinity courses is the very esoteric nature of it all.

It’s nice, on the surface, to know that the answers aren’t written the very second he was born, but only giving a little illumination into possible steps ahead. The more intricate charts and readings and being asked to interpret things with no answers, though—Trey hit a roadblock pretty quickly, and quietly elected to pursue an alchemist’s path instead.

Maybe it would benefit him to look back at his old notes, if only to interpret, in Cater’s own language, all the reasons why his star chart was fine, and not cringe.

“Hey now. Nothing in there is probably worth the oof. We’ve made it to… what, three of the houses?” (Is that what they’re called? Haha.) “How many is ‘too many,’ anyway? It doesn’t seem to me like all of them could be the exact same.”

—Technically, not all of them can. Reaching for distant memories of freshman year does have him recall several planets will remain the same for anyone close to his age. Which means, at the very least, it can’t be a Virgo sweep across the board. He thinks.

(It was close to two years ago, and a class he never took again. Cut him a little slack.)

“I mean, you’re the expert here. Probably not an interesting star monologue if it’s all the same sign, but at least it makes decision-making a breeze.”

Trey’s still smiling, despite emphasis, cheerfully using Cater’s own words against him to push back a little. If this is the depths of teasing, it’s doable—he can’t see Cater actively trying to make him upset, on principle and because he doesn’t want to lose his test subject. “So, what’s the sitch?”

[espritdediamant]

𓆩⟡𓆪 | #PHOTODUMP [ march housekeeping! ]

#UPDATES.

march is marching on so its housekeeping timeeee. honestly there isn't much that needs saying in my little Notes section of this month's housekeeping - last month was just... pretty quiet for me creatively and very noisy in my irl life hahaha. because of this i wasn't as productive writing wise as i wanted to be in february, BUT that's okay. it's a short month and sometimes life just keeps coming at you fast. overall my objective is to be more consistent and present, which seem like more sustainable approach for me rather than focusing on accruing a bunch of posts + interactions. my primary goal (detailed below) is to start more threads, but in tandem with that, my hope for march is to keep tuned in to the happenings of the group both ic and ooc, better than i was able to last month at least. i think doing so will help me continue towards a workable foundation for cater's ic presence in the directory's goings ons. •ᴗ• goals + progress under the cut!  ↷

#MANIFESTING.

in terms of keeping up with my writing goals last month, i wasn't super productive. i did for some reason prioritize and achieve my monthly stretch goal of finishing the stamp card, which honestly was a fun push on feb 28th when i remembered i wanted to do that kdfgkhfg. this month, i'm going to try to be more consistent with checking off the stamps. i did not manage to honour my goal of starting more threads + getting a starter call out. soooo, this month, my primary goal remains curation of more threads so i'm not just relying on one (1) for my activity every month. getting started is so intimidating to me for some reason but like... gotta do it ♡ i think i'll try to begin with an open starter and go from there bc idk how to start plotting otherwise lol. i was able to get through [2/5] of the memies symbol headcanon prompts, which i'm going to count as a win. i still have three that are being steadily drafted & queued, so finishing and sharing those by the month's end is hopefully in the stars as my secondary goal for march. nothing to report progress wise on the [3] additional meta/headcanon posts i mentioned in last month's housekeeping - i'm still ticking away at my cater thoughts and figuring out how i want to present them. they're technically still my tertiary goal, but i don't imagine i'll finish + share them until april unless i really start cranking out posts kahdfghkfg...

as always, my thread tracker is in my pinned post & i'm reachable on discord and twitter for plotting. happy writing, everyone!!

[espritdediamant]

"OH, NOW THAT'S A SWITCHEROO..."

More often than not, when people come traipsing into a little jam sesh, you can get stuck plucking out songs and searching up chords for ages on end. Not that Cater minds—practice is practice, and he likes seeing what sort of music other people gravitate towards—but it catches him off guard.

Just for a beat, and then he stands up from the couch to make a proper offering: shoulder strap comes off over his head, and Cater extends the guitar toward Jinx.

"Kind of a treat for someone else to play for me, NGL—just be careful with her, yeah? I know you will be, obvs, but." It's just sort of what you say, you know?

Hand-off handled, Cater flops back down into where he was settled before. "—Come to think of it, IDK if I've heard you ever, like, play that much. Considering we don't get much done during club time..." With a clear novelty to the circumstance, Cater perks up a little and adjusts their bids, "You sure you don't want to play and sing for me~?"

Visibly cringing at the nickname, Jinx was tempted to be a little meaner if Cater thought he was being unfair. Surely anyone would get annoyed at the same few cords plucked over and over again. It definitely wasn’t helping his headache.

He grit his teeth when Cater asked him to sing. Didn’t he just say he had homework? This guy serious needed to cut his whole sunshine and rainbows shtick.

“… If you’re not gonna stop, hand me the guitar and you can sing instead,” he said, holding his hand out to take the neck of the guitar.

Hopefully, Cater would just hand it over, or else they were going to have problems. He didn’t like to sing in front of people, it felt like drawing too much attention to himself, and even if it was just one other person, he knew he’d be embarrassed. Hopefully the heartslabyul student would read the room and just move on.

[espritdediamant]

"A SURPRISE, HUH...?" WELL, WHATEVER is inside of there, there's gotta be enough to go around for everyone—whether Ortho means everyone as in the folks inside of Ramshackle or absolutely every person on this island, right now, everyone.

Really, he's still kinda processing how Ortho even got it, like, up the stairs. He must have mad upper body strength or... He doesn't know, mega enforced robo-joints?

Cater takes the last step up onto Ramshackle's porch and peeks at the difference between the crate and the door frame. Old buildings aren't always the best for this kind thing, that much he knows because of Heartslabyul's reverence for a time long gone. Ramshackle's a different sort of outdated, though. Push on the structure too hard and it might just come down around you.

(That'd at least solve the sitch of getting the crate through the door. Not ideal, though.)

He speaks in the same whisper-pitch, looking back to Ortho. "Can't we just, like, take it out of the crate? Since got it this far, but... TBH, if they had to send it in something this big, maybe it's not gonna be that easy to move it inside—what's in there, anyway~?"

ortho's gaze shot up to the fast-approaching diamond once he heard him calling out his name.

oh! how pleasant. maybe cater could be of some assistance here?

his initial remark coaxed a giggle from ortho's synthetic voice. ❝ it's not a bookbag cater diamond~ it's something else entirely! ❞

before he'd spill the contents of this super special mysterious box…ortho looked left and right to make sure no one else was outside to hear.

scanning results came back positive!

with that assured, ortho leaned in to whisper his response.

❝ it's a surprise gift for everyone! I ordered it to come in today but…the packaging is way too wide to fit through the door! do you think you can help any? ❞

[espritdediamant]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A thousand words but, honestly, the look on an exhausted student's face has gotta be worth tenfold of what any snapshot could portray. Cater's strumming stops short just before the intro's end, and hovers just above the strings.

"Ooof, tough crowd today, Jinxy ♪!" The words come teetering out smiling sing-song, even if the song has been abandoned. Hum of the chords still hang in the reverb of the room, clinging to the corners until they ring themselves out to silence.

Sheepishness evades Cater at the best of times, though he tries to feign it at the mention of homework to do. He's ignoring some right now, TBH, but... Another option offered to packing it up, and he'll take it. Just not without a catch.

Cater leans forward, expectant and braced against the body of his guitar. "I could put that one to rest, I guess... But, if you're making requests, then you've gotta sing-along!"

(After all, fair's fair and beggars can't be beggars and sing for your supper and all the rest, right?)

What is that grating repetitive nonsense that seems hellbent on interrupting Jinx’s studying? What kind of a person do you have to be to be practicing guitar in a dorm common area? At least cast a spell to dampen the noise, right?

He was planning on being very reasonable when he stomped into the common room. Telling off this amateur virtuoso so intent on annoying the hell out of everyone in the immediate vicinity was a necessary evil. However, when he found s familiar ginger at the strings, he bit his tongue a moment while he found some less harsh words.

“Cater… cut that out. Please. Some of us have homework to do,” he sighed, “Or like, choose another song, man. Come on.”

Maybe the tired look on his face would communicate what words could not. He really didn’t want to listen to that song right then, or ever again if he could help it.

[espritdediamant]

☾ : My muse and sleep. (How much they sleep, how much they wish to sleep, if there is something that never fails to put them to sleep, e.t.c.) 

𓆩⟡𓆪 - memies symbol headcanon prompts [2/5] SUBJECT: SLEEP.

TO ADRESS CATER'S SLEEP HABITS, a general note on characterization. I interpret Cater as demonstrating multiple traits of ADHD in TWST's text, and as such I write him with this in mind. Sleep and ADHD are understood as having a bidirectional relationship. For Cater, specifically, I see these interacting most in his increased alertness, tendency to hyperfocus on tasks, and general difficulty regulating his routines.

More to the point. Sleep hygiene—the practice of ensuring one has cultivated daily routines and environments that are maintained, both required to produce good rest—has long been a sticking point and challenge for Cater. For the most part, Cater is "good" at sleeping. He can fall asleep easily once he's decided to go to sleep. Once he closes his eyes, it doesn't take him very long to sleep. Typically, he stays asleep once he has fallen asleep as well.

The problems start with the fact that Cater often does not prioritize choosing to go to sleep, and instead vastly prefers the passing out with phone in hand method of squeezing in rest after a long day of Cay-Caying around town. This is an unsustainable but relatable vice.

There are multiple instances across TWST's text where Cater becomes too absorbed in a task to effectively keep track of the time, and has difficulty in general budgeting out his time. These instances are often linked to using his phone to the point of distraction or obstruction to other things that need to be done. As a result, Cater makes no conscious effort to prioritize when he should be resting; as long as his energy levels are fine, he sort of just keeps going.

The major contention regarding Cater's relationship with rest is his phone. It's because you're always on that damn phone etc etc. Generally, guidelines for sleep hygiene suggest that individuals should avoid the use of phones or other screen devices 30mins-1hr before going to bed. Much to the chagrin of Cater's GP, this is never, ever going to be a recommendation that Cater heeds.

As a student, the peak of Cater's active screentime takes place at night. This is the sweet spot after classes, clubs, and homework have been seen to. This habit has less to do (directly, anyway) with the phenomena of "revenge bedtime procrastination", in which individuals stay awake to reclaim their time. Rather, Cater's penchant for late nights started in middle school once he was old enough to keep in touch with former schoolmates online. The added complication of timezones caused him to stay up increasingly longer on his phone chatting, texting, and keeping up with their posts.

Eventually the problem built upon itself as life and socialization (for Cater, at least) has become increasingly more centralized online, and social media and entertainment apps stack upon each other. In short, he often prioritizes online interactions over going to bed.

Cater on average stays up until ~3AM, which isn't the most sustainable practice when he's rising at 6-7AM for classes. This is an average of 3-4hrs of sleep a night which is not adequate It works out such, though, that Cater's energy levels are naturally pretty high. Thus, the lack of sleep just tempers them slightly and tends to reduce his focus. The issue of his sleep hygiene isn't so dire as to impact his day-to-day life or impede on his goals, but it is an area of health he neglects.

What can correct the sleep issue?

When Cater has something "to wake up for" the following day (i.e., an engagement that breaks his norm) he will often try to prioritize getting to bed sooner.

Social media droughts, when everything is boring, are likely when he's most well rested.

In a pinch, he really unironically enjoys ASMR videos. He goes for ambient noise ones (think "art studio vlog" and "pack orders with me" rather than anything that contains people talking, because he gets too interested in the narratives to sleep—and he doesn't find nature sounds that compelling, TYSM.)

Above all, history class can and absolutely will make him sleepy. Not precisely the best time and place to fix your relationship with sleep, though.

TLDR; you'll rarely ever catch Cater yawning through his day or struggling to stay awake, but still: put your phone down!! Choose sleep. You can answer those DMs tomorrow king.

[espritdediamant]

#AnywayHeres... ♪ | MINI - OPEN.

The joys of cohabitation are, obvs, limitless. Even more so when yanked out of your usual cohabitation-y haunts and, YK, unceremoniously-ceremoniously plunked into someone else's habitation all together. Ramshackle's got no shortage of it's charms, at least. Rickety floors, warped stairs, drafts around the windows—

Clear perk, at least: High ceilings, great acoustics. Real vibes that are only found in old homes that were, at some point, meant for entertaining in that hoity-toity way of the past, so instruments are meant to sound good in these once-grand sitting rooms. Basically beckons for them.

Thin walls. So, it's easy to hear when there's something going on in said common areas (which, NGL, is great if you're nosy and frustrating if you're trying to be sneaky about something).Today's disruption of the quiet, gifted to the people of Ramshackle, is the dulcet hum of an acoustic guitar, strumming with enthusiasm to a familiar, if horrifically and permanently over played, guitar songbook staple.

The performance is far from reverent; Cater Diamond, seated on one of Ramshackle lounge's couches, snickers over the memeified to hell chords as he strums through the intro.

[espritdediamant]

"LITERALLY, DON'T EVEN JOKE ABOUT IT—you know I'll give her a call. Lucky for you that's plenty accurate, for now. Maybe, like, if I ever decide to poke around just to be suuuuper sure about your chart I'll give Mrs C a ring about it." What takes precedent for now is getting this underway and finished. Still. "Lowkey I might anyway, I miss her and someone didn't let me say hi last time, but—anyway—"

Focusing. Deadlines really wait for no one, no matter how optimistically you think they might. Ugh.

Riled up is definitely an exaggeration, NGL, except only kind of because Trey's right: Cater is a bit antsy to get this going. Not because of what he thinks he might find in his chart, but more going through the motions and making sure it's still all tip-top. Astrology's a breeze, sure, but that means there's a higher bar to keep up with.

Not that the stress of balancing a steady performance in the class overrules the fact it's fun. At the end of the day, Cater's content to be here he is right now. The lounge is cozy, his set up's workable and he feels pretty profesh with all his reference sheets and grimoire laid out on the table. Trey's helping, even if pointing out the vibe being a bit tilted isn't that constructive RN. The squeeze is a bit grounded.

Freed from their prodding, Cater exhales and leans over his work, plugging in the information. "Cap moon, Virgo rising." Easily recalled, and Cater flashes a glance across. "You have all of the modalities in your big three, so they kinda lock themselves into memory. And, yeah, it tracks. It all tracks."

"You still remember the gist for readings though, right? Like, they're are a convo not a monologue, all about clarity, not answers? Blah blah blah..." That's all pretty introductory stuff, but important to callout at the forefront anyway (technically it's in the rubric that he does. And now he has! Crazy how fast progress starts rolling along once you, YK, start.)

The prelim's enough for Cater to finally be staring down Trey's chart, anyway. He can't resist: he whistles, low, and purses his lips.

"—Oooohh..." Cater glances over from the chart and looks at Trey, faux grim expression. "Really? Ooof—" Pfffft. Back to the screen, seriousness of his fake shock crumbling; he's not really much of a theatre club contender, TBH. Cater shelves his acting career to reprise his moonlighting as Super Profesh and Efficient Astrologer. "NGL, like, it's not that cringe but also? Horrifying at the same time, somehow. What's with you and Virgo being everywhere?"

espritdediamant​:

#NotAllScorpios | CATER & TREY.

“ONCE WE’RE DONE HERE, I can send her a copy of your chart, if she’s that curious about what you’re getting up to at school ♪”

There’s always, like, two camps of people who are getting this sort’ve thing done. The people who don’t sweat it all, since their charts just their chart—and it’s an accepted, scholarly pursuit, so why freak over it, YK—and then there’s Treys. Not freaking out, ‘cause there’s not enough stock put into it to freak out, but the nervous energy? Tangible.

At least he finally sits, LOL. Cater’s been waiting patiently but, for the guy that’s pointing out that this needs to get finished and Heyyy you really shouldn’t leave these sorts of things until last minute blah blah blah Yes Vice Housewarden—for all of that, Trey’s sure doing lots of fidget-y little tells RN. 

Cater would laugh if it wouldn’t make the delicate stack of cards tumble before he gets what he needs out’ve this. In theory he could probably just take Trey’s info and flub the rest—it’s not like the astrology prof’s gonna get a recording of the chart reading, and Trey’s not going to let him take a commemorative photo anyway, and Cater knows how to flub Treyisms well enough he could totally write a convincing report without actually doing this to the rubric.

—That doesn’t feel good, though, and he’s kinda curious to dig into this and get feedback about it, anyway. More fun poking into a chart when you can ask questions about what hits different instead of just making assumptions.

Cater sets his laptop on the corner of the table and pushes himself up to sit straighter. Crisscross on the sofa, coffee table occupied with books and his grimoire and laptop, he’s got a decent station to work from. “Mmmh, soooo… Birth time, and birthplace. Not, like, where you grew up or something vague like, ‘Queendom’ but like. What hospital, you know? Or if you don’t know that, at the very least the town it’s in.”

Easy enough info, and if Trey did his homework for Cater’s homework, they should get rolling without any hitches.

“Also, like—” he reaches over, hand clamped over Trey’s wrist. “Chill, yeah? All the pacing and now the finger tapping is totally wigging me out. Not like I’m gonna see something super weird in there. Unless, like, I do. But then I’ll tell you and it’ll be no biggie ‘Kay?”

Leaning down so he can squint at his laptop, Cater pulls up his charting program. “Ready when you are~”

YEAH, Trey’s sure his mother would have plenty of use for his star chart. A silly notion, considering she’s the one he’s gotten every ounce of practicality from, but he laughs politely at the thought nonetheless.

“Knave’s Crossing Hospital, in Wintergarden.” From everything Trey’s heard, he was a bit of a pain in the ass before he was born. All lightly in jest, because he made up for it by coming at a reasonable time of night instead of keeping everyone awake.

“You’ll have to take my mom at her word on the time, though. She said right after 7pm, but I don’t think I could ask her to get more specific without dragging out my birth certificate. Which I can’t say we have the time for, unless you want to go and call her yourself.”

Not a dare to be made lightly: Cater likely would, and have a good time with it in the process. Two years of living together has given them a certain level of familiarity, at least in passing, and not for nothing. Trey’s mom likes him fine, although isn’t above telling him he sounds ridiculous in his slang-trenched speech.

Trey’s other hand clamps back over Cater’s, head canted towards him in turn. Still with a smile, of course, just with one that’s showing his hand a little too much, a little too close towards becoming an outright smirk if pushed a little more. “Hey, I’m fine. You can’t sit still. I don’t know what you think you’ll find that’s gotten you riled up, but you can probably rest easy. Or not. It’s not my grade.”

The chances are high Cater’s gonna see something “weird” just to get a rise out of Trey, anyway, but that’s the price of admission.

A squeeze, and Trey’s hand strays to push glasses up his nose and settle into the armchair a little bit more.

“I do remember a little bit from this assignment freshman year. Something about a moon in Capricorn, and how it suited me somehow?”