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[piquuse]

vorpalswxrd​:

the incredibly (familiar) infuriating feeling of being pitied was back, and it had returned with a vengeance. riddle tried to shake it off - seven, he did! - but it still set his hair on edge, raising his hackles, and turning his tongue sharper than usual. 

“i will not be laid low by some,” riddle paused, halfway into a froth, and tried to take a deep breath. he could feel the heat in his ears, the way it crept from the nape of his neck to the apples of his cheeks, and more than rage, riddle felt rather…ashamed. though, if it was from his situation or his horrible temper, riddle found he couldn’t quite tell. either way, it was completely unfitting behavior for both a rosehearts and a housewarden alike. 

riddle sighed. “apologies, deuce. thank you for your advice.” he tried for a smile and missed it by a mile, landing somewhere between a scowl and a tight-lipped grimace. “…i’ll just…get started then, shall i?” 

“O-Of course not, Housewarden!” Comes Deuce’s trained response Riddle takes one step closer towards burning rage. It wouldn’t have bene a stretch to claim that Deuce didn’t feel very surprised by the sudden turn in mood (and who’s fault is that, really?) but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a still startling experience.

Still... Feels bad, man.

“Don’t worry, Boss. Like I said, I’ll keep pace with you as we run!” He continues, ignoring the befouled expression on the other’s face. In a quick and well-telegraphed motion, he starts urging Riddle to begin running. “Working out is always the hardest at the beginning anyways, since you gotta give yourself time to adjust to it. Uh, there might be a part where it really, really sucks, but you’ll get over it.”

As they make their way around the dictated track, Deuce keeps an even pace with Riddle; taking care to slow down when it looks as if his dorm’s de-facto queen was running short on breath. Throughout all of it, Deuce has hardly broken a sweat, even when carrying his own kettlebell weight. “I swear that it’ll get better, like how you told me that my flying will get steadier the more I practice.”

[piquuse]

re: emergency relocation (newsletter)

“Did the Headmage move us all here for free labor?” Deuce mutters under his breath, sleeves rolled up to the elbow and hands moving diligently as he wipes down the temporary room he had been assigned. He does this part alone; damp rag moving from dusty furniture to soapy water and back again until the water in the bucket turns a murky grey and Deuce has to make a trip to the washroom to change it out.

Rinse and repeat, until the last change of water runs clear.

By the time Deuce is finished cleaning, there’s a clean, citrus-y scent in the air that wasn’t there an hour ago that’s beginning to travel beyond the open door and windows left open to air out the room. The wood furniture even looks three shades brighter now that there wasn’t a heavy layer of dust and dirt to mottle the color. It’s a significant enough difference that Deuce can’t help but feel good about a job well done—his mom would be so proud of him, if she was here.

All that was left to do now, aside from finding a fresh change of linens, was actually move his things in. All of Deuce’s necessities had been left back at the Heartslabyul dorm for now, since he had managed to avoid being a part of the group in charge of covering up the roses with tarps and linens to help protect them from the sudden frost that had begun to settle over the dorm.

Deuce would have to go back soon to swap out with one of his dorm members so that they could come down to Ramshackle and do the same, of course, but it was nice to be able to get a head start on it now while most people were likely still gathering their things.

Plus, he still needed to figure out if they were supposed to bring bedding from their respective dorms or if there was some secret stash of clean bedding that they were to use. The last thing Deuce wanted to do was spend the foreseeable future lying on a bed of moth-eaten sheets. Ew.

For now though, Deuce would just have to settle for an early lunch before returning to Heartslabyul to help with the maze’s emergency preparations.

Winter had arrived early there, after all.

[piquuse]

what: dorm flipper — feat. ruggie & lilia ; @hyaina, @brawlrog where: ramshackle dorm when: a quiet hour at midday, post-relocation

”Is it even legal for the school to open up a dorm this run down to its students?”

If there was a single thought that could speak for the majority of Night Raven University’s freshly displaced students, Deuce had little doubt that would have been it. It was already making its rounds among some of the members of his own dorm, particularly those of more affluent backgrounds, and even Deuce had caught himself thinking similarly now that everyone was settling into their temporary housing.

It wasn’t that far from the truth either, considering how the only real residents in Ramshackle were a two half-students. It had been easy for Deuce to tell which rooms Yuu and Grim had frequented the most just from how clean the areas had been in comparison to the rest of the building. The rest . . . Well, it did still run on electricity, as opposed to magic. It was a miracle that the place was still functional at all.

“This,” Deuce says to himself, staring at a part of the ceiling near the entrance into the dorm’s kitchen that looks like it’s about to give way. Aside from some dusty cobwebs in the far corner that looked older than the Headmage, Deuce is alone. “. . . is going to fall on someone.” And also an OSHA violation, but Deuce doesn’t say that last part aloud. “That’s definitely going to hurt when it does.”

[piquuse]

running up that hill.

troisfleur:

LIGHT LAUGHTER FOLLOWS—“I’m afraid I’d get a reservation system shut down as quickly as I could start it. I try not to take requests on principle, and I’ve barely trained your seniors out  of asking anyway. It’s a funny thought, though. Maybe a lottery system? One ticket per passing test, if that’s what it takes to keep everyone motivated.” He won’t, although the thought lingers in his mind as Deuce suggests it, long enough for him to consider forming the pitch to Riddle anyway. The thought leaves as quickly as the pitch forms, though; it’s all extra work for him, in the end.

They’re setting a leisurely pace by the time they’re out of the business district proper on the main street through town. “Imagine doing this in the middle of the day. It’d be hotter, and that’s assuming I’d make it out the door in time to get any shopping done. Some things are worth waking up early for.” Like the occasional morning to himself, when a second pair of hands aren’t needed, a moment of repose to listen to himself think in a dorm that at once feelings endlessly sprawling and curiously cramped. “I usually got… volunteered to go out whenever my family needed something extra for an order, and it’s always better to be there first thing when a store opens. Never know how fast something will sell out!”

Deuce’s concern for his time can be leveraged, at least; easily dispatched to knock simpler things off the list while Trey takes his time scrutinizing nearly every batch of blackberries. Another luxury of the early morning: fewer people, and more time to be sure he’d gotten the best of the imported fares.

There’s a twinge to Trey’s leg by the time the buildings become homes. Not enough to be bothersome, at first, but enough to feel an ache crawl upwards from the flat of his foot through his calves as Deuce even considers a run might be in order after the walk back. A little strain to Trey’s leisurely smile, mostly a sympathetic wince at the very idea. “You really keep on your feet. Walking up this way’s one thing, but I wouldn’t hustle that much unless I’m running late.”

“Don’t let me stop you, if you need to be one with the wind now, but the groceries aren’t very even weights. I’d bill you for anything that fell out of the bags, too.”

By the time the homes are ready to give way to steeper inclines and the smaller rivers that cut through the edges of town, the twinge in his leg’s all but evolved into an ache. The jovial air is gone, and Trey’s brow furrows. He can’t imagine he’s that out of shape from a few weeks’ time without making a run, and he didn’t sleep on anything at an odd angle, to his knowledge—

“Let’s stop for a minute.” Trey doesn’t wait for Deuce to comply, bending down carefully so overflowing bags land softly on grass and slip off his arms before bending down at a knee.

He did make a few less-than-graceful landings this week, a flight class collision that was mostly not his fault. Aside from a few bruises, he figured he’d come out unscathed, especially without a scratch to his glasses for his trouble, but—

Hands massage his right ankle after feigning tightening his laces. It’s probably fine. There’s not really much of a choice but for it to be fine.

“There’s no better muscle to build than useful ones,” Deuce says in reply, shrugging his shoulders. It isn’t even a lie either, because his mother had swiftly ended any beliefs to the contrary after an incident when he was a bit younger and more interested in the idea of bodybuilders. The educational films she had made him watch about the occupational hazards were...very convincing. Still, it was pretty cool to learn that one her friends from her youth had gone that route.

Truthfully, if he were to use the groceries as weights, he’d treat them like kettlebells. Though Trey was right to warn him against damaging the goods in the process. “Don’t worry—I’m prepared to pay for anything that might fall out of the bags if that happens!”

Though really, anyone with sense would just avoid getting into that situation at all.

Deuce’s mind is in the middle of trying to figure out what sort of training exercises he could do on a twisty path like the university’s when Trey decides to call for a break. “Oh, okay.”

Following in suit, Deuce takes another step away from the middle of the road (just in case!) and sets down his own bags in the grass. There’s a bit of fussing, as Deuce takes the opportunity to rearrange the contents of the bags he felt were getting a little too jostled around.

Once that’s done though Deuce straights up for a proper stretch, glancing up at the sky. Nothing but clear, blue skies for now, thankfully. Though Deuce wondered how long it would take the clouds in the distance to arrive. There wasn’t any rain on the forecast for the rest of the week, but Deuce couldn’t exactly claim to be that familiar with the local weather habits when he was still wet behind the ears in his freshman year.

“Does it rain here often?” He asks in the end, turning his eyes towards Trey. “It’s humid because of the ocean, but...” Words trail off as Deuce eyes Trey’s hands, still dawdling at his feet despite the neatly laced bow, though Deuce doesn’t quite put together two-and-two just yet.

Still, as one to never truly beat around the bush, he can’t help but ask: “...Are you okay? Is there a rock in your shoe?” Or was Trey just mentally preparing himself for the trek back up to the entrance?

Either way, Deuce settles down in the grass next to him, dropping with a small thud. It wouldn’t hurt take a longer break anyways, Deuce thinks. It was a nice day out, after all, and there weren’t any scheduled classes for him today. “The grass is pretty soft here.”

[piquuse]

hyaina​:

There’s an eerie ambience in the Mirror Chamber past midnight, Ruggie notes as he listens to Deuce, brows furrowed. He passes it off as a byproduct of heightened nerves; an indescribable fear of the Dark Mirror announcing their presence to the headmage. Pale eyes steal a wary glance to the sacred relic, now an ominous glint of obsidian in the depths of midnight. He then turns to where Deuce points. “Got’cha.” 

The wagon is considerably lighter without the additional burden. Ruggie weaves between levitating mirrors and stations the wheelbarrow behind one fixture. He kicks some fallen roses beneath it, for the perfect disguise.  The wagon nearly blends among the shadows; an advantage to the lack of chamber windows. It takes a moment until Ruggie trudges back to Deuce, then stops to adjust the hefty backpage ‘on his own shoulders. 

“Y’ever been to the place? Dwarve’s Mine?” Ruggie asks as he turns back to the Mirror. As if acknowledging their need, the relic hums to life. It emits a soft, white glow. The picture of a forest begins to fade into their sight, perfected with a homely cabin, “Azul said somethin’ scared off the delivery men, but wouldn’t tell me what. It’s probably just an animal, though; I’ve seen lost’sa them in places like that.”  

He doesn’t wait for Deuce’s response as he cautiously presses one leg into the Mirror. A force suddenly grasps upon his limb, then sucks him into the void. He crashes into a field of dried grass, earning a mouthful in the process. 

“—PHEH!” Ruggie gags as he spits out grass, then sits upright on his bum. “Why’s the grass here all brittle?!” Ears flatten in irritation as the hyena shoves a fallen bottle back into his backpack. Then, he takes a look around him. “….Heeeey, Deuce? Y’there?” 

“This’ll be my first time. Usually I just stick to the township.” He hedges with a shrug. As Ruggie makes his way through the portal, Deuce takes the time to peer at the image. While the cabin itself didn’t trigger anything in particular, the forest surrounding it was a familiar sight, if only because of the time he had spent exploring the mountains back home. “Unless I ended up there in a past life or something. Do you think I would’ve been a dwarf if that was the case?”

There is no response to his query, of course, because by the time Deuce turns back towards the hyena, the space Ruggie had once occupied is as quiet as a grave. There’s no point in dilly-dallying though, so he steps forward into the mirror after Ruggie.

The sudden jerk Deuce feels as his hand passes through is strong enough to send his vision spinning, even after he’s thrown hard against the roots of an old tree stump. “Ugh...ow...” Deuce shuts his eyes against the pinwheels in his vision. “What the hell... The dorm mirror portals aren’t that bad, so why...”

With a frown Deuce opens his eyes and sits up, expecting to see the Savanaclaw senior nearby, but there is no one around. He doesn’t even see the old cabin that was present in the mirror. “Bucchi?” Deuce calls out, pushing himself up into a standing position. The sound of dried leaves is loud against the darkness. “Bucchi, where’d you go? Hello?!” But despite the bellow, Deuce can’t help but think that his voice didn’t carry very far.

With a click of his tongue, he pats down his pockets and pulls out his pen, just in case. Bad enough that he didn’t quite know his way around this place, but he didn’t like the thread of wariness that had begun to pull taut in his chest. A pause, before he uncaps his pen to doodle a small cauldron onto the exposed bark.

“This should keep me from walking around in circles... I think.” Though there is not much else he can do when he doesn’t even know where he is. So with light footsteps, Deuce picks a random direction and starts walking, calling out Ruggie’s name every now and then.

(...Behind him, growing further away as Deuce walks, a twig snaps.)

[piquuse]

A head of navy blue perks up at Trey’s warning as Deuce catches himself at the door, arms turned into a makeshift rack with the number of shopping bags hanging from him. With an instinctive turn of his body, one of the more precariously settled bags swinging just shy of the vice-housewarden’s own collection. “Oh—Thanks for the save!” Deuce says, gratitude and no small amount of happiness turning his simple smile into wide grin.

”I thought you said you weren’t a morning person?” Not that it meant much, when their dorm operated on a nightly curfew and a morning role call. “Well, not that I mind. These bags aren’t that heavy, and I like coming down to the town too.” Seeing the busy streets was a nice change of pace to the university’s wider campus pathways, if he was being honest. Not to mention how refreshing the scent of the sea was, once he got used to the absent fragrance of roses in the air.

“I guess Heartslabyul does have a lot more people than the other dorms...” A sigh, as Deuce recalls his own experiences with their dorm members’ laziness the last time Sam had announced a limited sale at the Mystery Shop. “If they wanna ask for specific things, they should at least cough up something useful in return.” Like that one upperclassman who promised to help get him a bundle of thunder tree leaves he needed for Professor Crewel’s class. What was the point of taking on a job if they weren’t going to pay up?

“Maybe you should start a reservation list or somethin’, if it gets really out of hand.” Deuce says instead, though the look on his face signals doubt that it would make much of a difference. Then a bit quieter: “Seriously... It’s like they forget how busy you are.” Not that the consequences of Deuce’s own shenanigans haven’t done the same.

He’s hardly broken a sweat in the time it takes for them to pass by the last of the houses at the edge of town, though he takes a moment to readjust the bags in his hand and shake out the propagating stiffness in his hands. The sea breeze is stronger here now that they’re a bit higher up, but it cools the heat at the nape of his neck quite nicely. “I’d say it’s pretty good weather for a run. I might even go for one after we get back!”

Deuce tilts his head to the side in contemplation as he looks up at the winding uphill path. “The mountain paths in my hometown are pretty twisty like this too. Man, I remember what a pain in the ass it was to jog up them when I first tried it.” It had taken Deuce a few weeks before he got used to how thin the air got the higher up he went, but once his body adjusted it wasn’t as bad. And since joining Track and Field, his physical condition had only gotten better once training started. “Maybe I should start using this path more often...”

running up that hill.

where:sage island’s township. when:just before 10am. who:@piquuse. ♣️

“CAREFUL,” comes the warning of an upperclassman with no intentions of jumping to help, other than a foot caught on the edge of the door to let Deuce outside. Trey’s arms are just as full, at least, two bags hanging off one arm and a third tucked closer to his chest. There’s a smile all the same, head cocked to the side with a passing glance back at his freshman companion before they’re both outside.

The warning’s mostly cursory, but a habit—and betraying a little humor in Trey’s tone. For whatever it’s worth, the salesman’s smile is lighter today.

It’s not always like clockwork, because a kitchen’s daily demands change, even with the best-laid plans. Allowances made for people sneaking snacks and a balance struck with what Trey feels like practicing on his own time—a full list for Heartslabyul’s kitchen is never an exact science, much as some might like it to be. Some weeks, everything is anticipated perfectly, and others sees Trey rising with the sun for the long trek to town. It’s usually a pleasant walk, either way. No dormitory colors or school uniforms, just Trey, alone with his thoughts.

Sometimes, however, there’s no need for that: one pair of arms become two, and the list can expand to accommodate. It’s never a short errand, but Trey can at least provide the promise of lunch when they arrive back at their dormitory doorstep, and pleasant conversation the winding path there and back.

Especially back. (Trey’s hometown was by no means sprawling, but they had a decent enough bus line that ran through.)

“I’m afraid I might have to start leaving earlier, if I get too many last-minute requests while walking out.” Temper the fact between them, there’s at least two bags more than anticipated. Not every request granted, of course—a line has to be drawn somewhere. But, nonetheless, their shopping list expanded. “That’s one less trip I’ll have to make next weekend, at least, with your help.”

It’s not the first time, and it’s certainly not every time, but Deuce Spade isn’t bad company. He’s a more willing pair of arms than his siblings, and they have two limbs ahead of his freshman companion.

Night Raven University looms, dark and distant and at least an hour’s walk uphill, when Trey glances north, beyond the rooftops. A chuckle, to himself, head shaking. “Not the worst weather for leg day, at least.”

[piquuse]

vorpalswxrd​:

riddle tried not to sneer too openly. or seem too alarmed. run? around the field? while carrying weights? riddle wanted to ask. he could already feel the goosebumps forming along his arms and legs, cold pinpricks of chicken skin forming out of sheer dread for the herculean trial deuce had just proposed. 

but it was his duty, both as a member of house heartslabyul, and as heartslabyul’s housewarden, to participate in spelldrive. and more than that, perhaps, riddle wanted to win, this year. it was, perhaps, a pipe dream - a fantasy, in more ways than one, but riddle had told both kalen and deuce that he was willing to put in the work. 

it did just go to figure that deuce would all but challenge him to put his money where his mouth was. i think he may be trying to kill me, though, riddle thought, and resisted the urge to toe at the weights again. 

“…right,” riddle said, at last, and prayed that his smile didn’t look as strained as it felt. “well. i suppose we should get started, then?” 

There’s a moment of pause, and Deuce turns a more contemplative gaze towards Riddle. It’s a worrisome expression typically, considering how quickly a Deuce deep-in-thought could spiral, but there’s a certain glint in his eyes that promises it to not be the case this time around. Perhaps it’s doubt, for whether or not he believed that Riddle could manage at least this much. Or maybe it was pity, for seeing his housewarden laid low by the appearance of a five-pound weight so early on.

Either way, he’s got some thoughts in that head of his.

“Try not to stop completely, even if you get tired,” he reiterates, before turning to trace the edge of the croquet field with his hand. “You can slow down to a walk if you need to, but try not to stay like that for longer than you gotta.” He taps the edge of the bench. “This’ll be our lap marker for now, since I forgot to bring actual cones.

“Oh, and you’ll get a chance to break for water after we finish the laps. I don’t want you to throw up halfway through.” His questionable choice of words don’t even seem to register, as he gestures for Riddle to start running. “Something about needing to wait an hour after drinking before you exercise, I think? Either way, it’s a rookie mistake if you push too hard too soon.”

[piquuse]

—IT’S LATE, but not so much so as to cause alarm nor fall afoul of any of the Queen’s rules yet. No need to pay much mind to Trey, shuffling at a jovial pace. There’s an old plastic container in his hands, and while it is hard to make out what exactly it contains, there’s telltale strands of spider’s silk falling from the sides and stuck between his fingers. There’s a funny expression on his face, perhaps jovial, but with a distant glimmer in his eyes that speaks of a man with… ideas.

That distant glimmer flickers out in an instant, replaced with something marginally warmer at recognition.

“Deuce,” a nod and a greeting that doesn’t linger. “Thank you for your help in organizing our stamp rally decorations. It’s getting late, though—don’t linger too much.” It’s not a warning, just a statement for him to read between the lines—I won’t say anything if you will.

He shakes the container in his hands, enough to gesture towards them to remark, “And thank you for the ideas for your booth. It wasn’t a suggestion,” and he doesn’t take them, usually, “but sometimes the best ideas come about when you’re not looking. I’ve never prepared any sort of insect or spider before.”

And he’s on his way with a nod and a whistle, towards the kitchen—no lingering.

A glance at the clock is all Deuce needs to know that he has to get moving soon, if he wanted to avoid a morning correction. He had considered not heading toward the kitchen at all initially, but the distant pang of an empty stomach would have lead towards an unrestful slumber and Deuce would rather spend ten minutes heating up water for his cup noodles than the thirty he knew he’d spend pretending he wasn’t hungry before bed.

On the bright side, that moment of foresight he had earlier today to notify Riddle about the extra training he had planned earlier that evening was his saving grace. Explaining why he was in the kitchen past dinner time would be easier because of it if he was questioned, but he doubted that he would need it. Still, the next five minutes are spent slurping down the last of his noodles and tidying up the small mess he had left in the kitchen.

As he makes his way through the hall, Deuce can’t help but wonder if he should have spent a few more minutes lounging in the quiet of the kitchen. Rarely does he get lost in his thoughts, having been too busy getting caught up in the moment—but it seems that is not the case tonight, as he sees Trey walking in his direction with a small container in hand. Curious, considering the hour.

With a quick nod and a quiet greeting in return, Deuce lets himself puff up a little with pride over the acknowledgement of his efforts. “Wasn’t planning to, vice-Housewarden. I just—” a small look at the little tupperware in Trey’s hands quickly becomes a doubletake. Were those...cobwebs?

It takes a moment, and a few reminding words, before Deuce recalls the brief tangent that he had dragged the rest of the Heartslabyul group chat into earlier that week. “Oh! Right, that.” A small smile of understanding, turning his normally serious expression soft with childish joy. “I didn’t think you’d actually be that interested in it,” but it was nice to know that he was. Perhaps Trey would come up with a recipe that was as good as his mom’s.

Deuce opens his mouth to say more, but movement from his senior is enough signal that the time for a conversation has passed. Trey’s whistle floats quietly in the halls as he walks away toward the kitchen, dampened slightly by patterned walls, and Deuce turns back towards his room. He had heard that tone in the other’s words for what it was, after all.

And with its two lingering souls having moved on, the hallway stands empty once again.

[piquuse]

lets play dnd !!

the second one is old now but I’m in a dnd phase rn so… inflicts it on my twisted wonderland + wanted to put it all in one post

((rbs appreciated!!)

[piquuse]

“Yuuya is only human—he has no power. Grim, Ace and Deuce all have amazing power, in comparison. That's why he’d been able to trust them. He’d been afraid to face the monster, but somehow he’d known that they could do it.

He thanks them, and Deuce shakes his head.”

Twisted Wonderland, the Novel Illustration by Toboso Yana

[piquuse]

what: spin cycle — feat. ruggie ; @hyaina​ where: sage island’s roller rink when: saturday, around 2pm

To be entirely frank, roller derby was not something that deuce was very familiar with, let alone roller skating. Riding a blastcycle was one thing, but there hadn’t been a roller rink nearby back home and Deuce hadn’t been inclined to spend his spare cash on something a single-use as a pair of roller skates when there was a perfectly good list of errands that needed to be checked off first.

But even with the lack of a proper rink, Deuce often saw how the neighborhood children had made do with the outdoor terrain. The lake near the base of the mountains would often freeze over when winter came, strong and thick enough to handle the weight of the people who would glide across its surface on their skates. While he had joined in on the fun himself as a child, he had stopped after the fifth time someone’s mother had accused him of trying to crack open the ice alongside their children’s head. As if clumsy little Fergal had needed Deuce’s help to fall flat on his face. Hah, what a crock of shit.

Still, that was then and this was now; because the bulletin board had offered up the advice given, and since NRU students were able to get a decent discount, it had just been a question of why not? If Deuce wanted to be able to pull himself up into becoming an honor student like he initially planned, then there was no harm in stacking the deck in his favor when he had the chance. Academics were never his strong suit, even with his seniors’ tutoring, but that just meant that he couldn’t slack off in the subjects that he was actually good at.

Which was why he had gone here, to the skate rink, to practice. He had chosen to stick by the outside of the rink for now, in order to gain his bearings; from the way Deuce almost feels like a newborn baby deer every other time he tries to move, he hasn’t made that much progress in the half-hour that he’s been there. “Still—ah, shit!” Deuce huffs under his breath as other people pass by. “I kind of really suck at this.”

[piquuse]

Send A Number to Experience One of My Muse’s Memories

Memories are vignettes for one’s past, and often times, they are very telling.

1. Their First Memory 2. A memory of their father 3. A memory of their mother 4. A memory of a sibling 5. A memory of a pet 6. A turning point in their life 7. A memory they want to forget 8. A hazy memory 9. A photographic memory 10. A disappointing memory 11. A memory that may or may not have happened 12. A happy memory 13. A memory of a friend 14. A memory of a relationship 15. A heartbreaking memory 16. A memory that makes them angry 17. A memory of something they regret 18. A memory they’d love to change 19. A memory of someone they don’t see anymore 20. A memory of someone who is deceased 21. A memory of the first time they did an activity they love 22. A childhood memory 23. A school day memory 24. A holiday memory 25. A birthday memory 26. A memory they want to share 27. A memory of something they’re proud of 28. A memory that strains a relationship 29. A memory they can’t let themselves forget 30. Asker’s choice 31. Writer’s choice

[piquuse]

⸻ Seaside Refresher.

brawlrog​:

these new technologies are exhilarating, he must say. he’s heard of blastcycles before. at their advent, they were heralded as mighty iron behemoths that could carry any one or two people across any distance so long as its fuel was supplied. he’d paid it no mind then, wholly unconcerned. there were plenty of other modes of transportation that’d been introduced in the years that’ve passed him by, but how many of them had endured time itself? few, he’ll say, can match the utility of a carriage, save for the human invention that they call a train. what could these others do that the carriage could not? when they lacked the fuel, what happened then? would they be stranded?

by comparison, the carriage is steadfast and stalwart. a horse only needs a day’s rest when it tires too much to continue, but they would continue. a train? a blastcycle? the same could not be true. irregardless, they do not build trains in briar valley, lacking in the fuel that it requires. just as they do not build blastcycles in briar valley. what was more: where could they go where he could not travel himself? no, no; there were no need for these novelties as intriguing as they are.

so, he tells himself.

so he says, as he discovers one of them tucked away nearby the stables on one such sojourn. so he says, as he hears the sound of its keeper and tucks himself into its sidecar beneath the tarp. the fabric flutters, clapping loudly against his ears as the motor roars to life. the speed affronts him and, for all of a second before the fear turns to delight instead, he fears that his chest might collapse from the sheer force of it. it is in that short journey that fae realizes he was wrong to turn his nose up at this. how could he have missed out on such an opportunity? he was foolish to have dismissed it.

lilia even thinks that he might purchase one for himself, though he momentarily decides against it when he thinks of the worry it might cause his sweet child.

decides he will buy one after all when they hook around a corner and lilia has to stop himself from cheering with childish glee.

eventually, the motor cuts as they arrive at the driver’s predetermined destination. fae peers out from beneath the cover, a gloved hand lifting to rustle his dark hair—as how else will he remain so rougishly handsome without painstaking dedication?—before cautiously swinging a foot out of the sidecar only to hear the clipped scream of the driver. he quirks an eyebrow before laughter bubbles forth. cupping his hands around his mouth, lilia shouts too from the shore: “fuck you, ace trappola!” grinning cheekily, he offers a wave from his passengar’s seat. “and a good evening to you, deuce.”

The echoing of his own words in the air around him falls like a keystone in the metaphorical arch that was his expectation of being alone on this stretch of beach; though maybe it would be more accurate to say that it was the wrecking ball that smashed that wall into itty-bitty pieces, because that’s how he would probably describe his feelings on the situation, if anyone was to ask.

Suffice to say, Deuce’s scream of surprise could have probably been heard from the docks, what with how loud he was. The max decibel ceiling was rather high, for him.

     “Vanrogue?”     He asks, visibly bemused as he rights himself from his turn to see who exactly had followed him. In the confusion of the moment, the previous irritation that had colored his voice with such vibrant saturation seems to have disappeared—because seriously, what in the seven was Diasomnia’s vice-warden doing in his sidecar anyways? It wasn’t something Deuce normally kept attached to his blastcycle, but the convenience of the extra space was a weight off his back (literally!) when he had to go down into the town for things...

Now that he’s thinking about it, that explained a few things.     “Huh, so that’s why I had to lean more deeply into my turns today...”     Deuce says to himself, hand raised to his chin as he thinks back to the earlier drive. At first he had thought that the bike was due for a tune up, but Lilia’s extra weight would explain why his usual balance seemed off; it would be difficult to account for something he wasn’t expecting, even for an experienced driver like him.

     “Wait, nevermind that—!”     He says, previous confusion giving way to mild irritation with an undercurrent of embarrassment for getting caught yelling at the ocean.     “How long have you been hiding in my passenger’s?!”     And why didn’t he notice that little stowaway bat earlier??

[piquuse]

vipetriol​:

Needless to say, comparing their predicament to looking for a needle amongst hay would be a severe understatement. 

The area is far too vast, the vegetation too dense, the illumination too dim for them to make any meaningful progress. At this sluggish pace, it would take them all night just traversing the entire gardens. Even then, their efforts would be unlikely to yield results, given the sheer number of places they’d have to forage through to call it an exhaustive search.

It’d be more shocking if they did manage to find anything under these conditions. An act of divine providence, of utter luck. For someone used to drawing the shorter end of the stick, entrusting the outcome to chance would be no better than to resign himself to failure. 

No, that won’t do at all. They need a more methodical approach. A strategy beyond combing through the grass and hoping for the best. 

At least for now, Jamil should count his blessings. Deuce is hardly the worst person to be stuck with —or well, stuck to— in a situation like this, for one. As long as he remains cooperative and not insufferably ingratiating, Jamil reckons the two of them can get by just fine. That much is an advantage, compared to a majority of alternatives. 

« Yes, let’s. » With a curt nod, he goes along Deuce’s suggestion.  

Jamil remains silent as they tread along the path, occupied with observing his surroundings: the structure of the glass ceiling overhead; the height of the trees around them; the length of the canals that flow quietly throughout the gardens. Every detail, he commits to memory, attempting to devise the most prudent course of action going forward. 

Once they’re nearing the centre of the temperate zone, he finally speaks again.

« Right now, I can think of two ways to go about this, » Jamil begins. « The first would involve climbing onto higher ground— say, that tree over there, » he signals to an especially large oak,   « using the taller branches as a vantage point, we could shine on a portion of the area with some light magic and, if we’re lucky, the keys will reflect some of that light. » It’s straightforward enough, but a three-legged climb in the dark is a risky endeavour. 

Having said that, he points at the irrigation canals. « Our second option is to look through the waterways instead. If the keys fell into one of them, they might have been carried by the stream and gotten stuck in a filter somewhere along the way. The water is shallow enough for us to search on foot, and following it would take us through all major parts of the garden,» he concludes.

« Personally, I think the latter is a more sensible option. It isn’t nearly as risky, and it makes for a relatively rounded search. However, it is by far the slower of the two, and it’s limited in its range. » Time is of the essence; Jamil has to make it back to his dormmates as soon as possible, lest they wreak more havoc in his absence. « So, I’d like to hear your thoughts. »

While Deuce had heard from some of the other members in the basketball club about Jamil’s capable character, watching him keep cool head under pressure in real time was an enlightening experience; if he could learn to properly think before he leapt, it could only benefit his future goals.

After all, even if he tried to assume the mentality of an honor student on his way towards become a great mage, Deuce knew that he was still along way from actually being one. The gap was just too great for him to clear it, but he wasn’t about to stop before he even tried. So when Jamil asks for his thoughts, he...tries to think it through. As best as he can, anyways.

          “If you think that the stream is the better option, then let’s try it! It’s safer than climbing through the trees while we’re like this,” Deuce gestures at their restraints. “Though if you know any wind magic, maybe we can summon some to shake the tree leaves up a bit?” If Ace was here instead, chances are that’s the idea he would have... Though that might also knock loose whatever else is tucked away up in the canopy. Like bird nests. Were there birds in the greenhouse, now that he thought about it? Or just bugs?

          “Plus, I don’t actually know how heavy the key is. If it’s light enough or if we wait too long, it’ll get swept away by the stream.” After a moment and a glance at Jamil, he adds: “That’s what you’re worried about, right? Whether or not the key will get washed away?”

[piquuse]

To say that Deuce was surprised when Riddle had requested his help for extra practice would have been downplaying it to a severe degree. The sound his jaw had made when it hit the ground could have caused an earthquake with its force alone... Well, either way what was done was done, and now Deuce was the one who was bringing out the extra weights in an effort to help his dorm head put on some muscle.

...Was it bad if he thought that this might be a bit of an uphill battle?

          “Ah, it’s exactly what it looks like, boss!” Deuce says as he sets about rearranging the weights in ascending order. After some thought, he reaches for the five pound kettlebell and holds it up for Riddle to take. “Here. Since Roca is already focusing on conditioning as a whole, I figured we should probably work on your endurance and stamina first.”

Rare words of wisdom, coming from Deuce. “The longer you can last during our workouts, the more progress you can make during them. Though since you’re still just starting out, we gotta figure out how long you can hold out for. So, you’re gonna run laps around the field while carrying this! You don’t have to sprint the whole time, but just try to run for as long as you can. Ah, I’ll also be running with you, so don’t worry!” He picks up the much larger, much heavier fifty pound kettlebell, and then opens the stopwatch app on his phone. “It’s not as bad when you’re running with other people.”

this, riddle reminded himself, is necessary.  he eyed the stack of weights deuce had brought into the clearing just beyond the hedge maze in the heartslabyul quad, before prodding one with a sneaker-clad toe. 

it didn’t budge. riddle’s toe, instead, hurt a tad bit - nothing bad, but the sensation was similar to the one he got just the other day, when riddle had stubbed his toe on the corner of his desk. you’ve got to be kidding me, riddle thought, and stepped away from the weights. 

his and deuce’s arrangement was meant to have been a simple one. as deuce’s housewarden, it was riddle’s duty to ensure that the first year passed all his classes. and, while deuce had plenty of subjects where he needed guidance, it had been his magical control that needed the most work. 

it became obvious, after watching deuce fly, that he’d never done it before. or made much use of his magic before night raven university, either way. and it wouldn’t do for a member of heartslabyul to fall behind - especially when the solution was so readily available. 

so riddle had begun tutoring deuce. it was his duty, after all. he was housewarden, and deuce was a member of heartslabyul. but somewhere along the line, deuce had caught wind of riddle’s…less than stellar performance in gym, once flying was out of the picture. and then, he’d gotten it into his head to help him with it. 

hence, the situation riddle found himself in presently. out, in a clearing just beyond the hedge maze, staring down a stack of weights, under the watchful eye of the afternoon sun. distantly, riddle could hear the sound of footsteps, making their way towards him. 

turning towards the noise, riddle asked, “and, what, exactly, are you hoping to accomplish?” 

@piquuse

[piquuse]

We few, we spelldriven few.

vorpalswxrd​:

twistedxspinachpuffs​:

“Deuce, my friend, pal, fellow dormmate – we have a lot to get done if we’re gonna be ready for this year’s Spelldrive season!”

When Mr. Rosehearts tasked him with leading today’s training session, that only further fueled Kalen’s desire to go all out. Thank the Seven Sam had a sale! These things did not come cheap as we’re most likely sightly raised in price once the shopkeep realized the reason the sudden widespread demand.

“Formation flying is a useful skill,” Kalen explained, as he set out little yoga mats on the floor, each one in a color to mat it’s owner (red for riddle, blue for deuce, orange for kalen) with a bottle of water beside them. “But all the training in the world can’t save you from a pulled muscle. What we need to work on eight now is good ol’ fashioned stretching and upper body strength!”

As as he’s given the ‘ok’ from Mr. Rosehearts to begin, Kalen demonstrates various stretches he had learned over time to ensure everyone’s body would be properly warmed up before they got into the more physically demanding section of training.

“…Aaand, now that we’re done,” Kalen gestures for the pair to follow him away from the mats, to the corner he had set up his equipment, holding out two dumbells for each. “Let me introduce y'all to my friend, the inclined dumbell press! Now, these guys are light, so feel free to grab heavier weights if these aren’t heavy enough for you. Just sit in the bench, lean back, and keep your feet firmly planted on the floor. Brace your core and press both dumbbells straight up over your chest as you exhale. Three sets of eight. Hop to it!”

let’s work together! stick with me, @vorpalswxrd , @piquuse !

riddle stared, a bit dumbly, at the “inclined dumbell press” kalen had just gestured them towards. you have got to be kidding me, he thought. when he had agreed to let kalen run a small - small! - training camp, in hopes of preparing the house for spelldrive season, riddle had expected – 

well, he wasn’t quite sure what he had expected. trying to expect anything sensible, logical, or orderly from kalen seemed to always end up being an exercise in futility. or, in some particularly stressful cases, a way to measure just how much paracetemol riddle could down before he killed himself in the process. 

regardless, no matter what riddle had expected, yoga and dumbells had not been it. spelldrive was flying, for the seven’s sake! you were on a broom, with a ball, and you jockied around the field for points. it was all rather straightforward, and also well within riddle’s limited athletic skillset, precisely because it didn’t require any heavy lifting. 

but it would, of course, be singularly humiliating to have to admit to both kalen and deuce that riddle had his doubts about his ability to handle weights that kalen had just described as “light”. for the seven’s sake, he’d even offered to grab heavier dumbells! how was riddle meant to even begin to broach the idea that the dumbells might be too much!? 

mother, riddle thought, didn’t raise a coward. with that thought in mind, he took a deep breath, and sat on the bench. 

this had better not kill me. no fooling around, @twistedxspinachpuffs , @piquuse !

There’s a bit of relief in Deuce’s expression to know that they were still able to train their body alongside their magic for spelldrive. Even if it was utterly overshadowed by his determination to make the most of this little training session of theirs, a workout was still a workout. This was something he could do, without the worry of looking like a fool who still hadn’t learned which side of the wand pointed up.

          “Alright!” Wrapping up the last of his stretches and feeling the happy hum of limber muscle, Deuce steps over to take the proffered dumbbell from Kalen. With all the heavy lifting he had done for his mother back home, the ten pound weight wasn’t heavy at all for him; if anything, he’d even say that he hardly noticed the added weight, even though he was looking directly at it. But that said nothing for how the change in posture would affect him, of course.

So, like a good musclehead, Deuce moves to take a seat at the bench and leans back the way he would on the old recliner at home, engaging his core to keep his back straight without the help of a backrest in the fight against gravity. He gives the weights a few experimental presses, before deciding that the angle didn’t make that much of a difference... He could probably start with thirty as a warm up, and then keep adding another ten or so with every rep or so until he hits his limit.

Yeah, that sounds about right, he thinks, as he pauses in his rep to exchange his weights out. So focused on updating his own regimen, it isn’t until he’s about to head back to the bench that he even notices Riddle’s predicament...

(It’s okay boss, he didn’t see anything. In fact, he’s blind.)

ready to become the wind, @twistedxspinachpuffs , @vorpalswxrd ?

[piquuse]

⸻ There’s something in the water.

threadedwheels​:

Ember glares at the host from behind Deuce as the freshman emptied his wallet for him. 

He should’ve known how he would behave, considering the ‘generous’ nature of the housewarden. He wonders for a moment if he should’ve put a few more thaumarks into his bag but ultimately knows that whatever amount he could’ve brought wouldn’t have been enough for the people here.

When the host turns back to his work, Ember looks up at Deuce before they turn to go down the hallway. He makes a mental note to pay Deuce back for that, especially considering that it was his task to do, and then makes another note to make Azul pay him back for that.

“…Thank you for that,” He says, pushing himself forward, “I was considering stran- yelling at that man.” 

As they get up to announcement board, Ember stands up to look at the list of tasks, ignoring the looks from students passing by. If Deuce asks any questions, he’ll explain it to him, maybe, but otherwise he simply ignores any comments made towards his chair use as he looks through the board.

Fish feeding…. fish feeding… He finds the task and traces through the list to figure out who was on duty for it today. As soon as he finds the name, he grabs his notebook and jots the name down. 

“You might need to handle the conversations,” He sits back down, “I think I’ll get into an argument too fast, especially if this individual is like the last.”

As they continue on with their task, Deuce figures that he’d take the chance to take a closer look at the Octavinelle dorm’s unique decor while they were there. The dorm’s theme of “underwater” was completely different from Heartslabyul’s garden manor layout after all; from almost anywhere Deuce looked, he could find a window that looked directly into the ocean around them.

          “It’s alright,” he reassures Ember as he follows the other into the main lounge. “Honestly, I wanted to do the same thing...” Though he knew he shouldn’t, since it’d be off with his head if it got back to Riddle. Not to mention, it’d be a bad mark against him as an honor student.

The idea of having to handle all the talking though... “A’ight, I’ll do my best for the both of us!” With a determined smile, he raises an encouraging fist. “Though, I hope they aren’t all like that. You recognize any names from that list that we can start off with?” He asks, leaning in closer to look.

          “Oh, wait I know that guy...” he trails off, pointing at one of the first year names on the schedule from the last week. “Uhh...I think we have Potionology together? I remember Crewel chewed him out in the middle of class the other day after he knocked over a bowl of the dried flowers we were supposed to be practicing with.” It was a rough day for everyone, after that... “If we can’t find today’s guy, we can probably try asking him.”