#kaspar reveiro

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OCtober Day 11: Craft

Just flower crowns and siblings being wholesome. These are all my characters, and the setting is modern day. Italics means they are speaking in Spanish, non-italics means they are speaking in English. 

thank you @oc-growth-and-development for the prompt

Julian yawned into his mouth as he opened the door to his room, late-morning light streaming inside. It was the weekend, and most importantly, it was winter break, which meant no little sisters would be barging into his room at 7am to smack him with pillows and demand he keep a consistent sleep schedule. There was no school, either, to make him pull on his clothes and rush to catch the carpool with his friends. 

He’d spent a lazy morning lying in bed until he felt awake enough to get up, the clock above him reading 11am. He could already hear the sounds of his little sister’s laughter through the walls as Julian made his way to the kitchen. The sound of music carried down the hallway, a steady beat thumping through a phone speaker, and his brother’s voice singing along. “Y no sé por qué nos dejamos, Si tú me amas y––” Kaspar cut himself off in the middle of his singing as he spotted Julian in the doorway, his arm frozen over the pan on the stove. His mouth split into one of those smiles that made him look like a dog sticking its head out the car window. “Your breakfast is on the table, sleepyhead. Make sure you don’t get any of it on your sisters’ things.” 

Confused, Julian craned his neck to peer into the room. He saw his sisters had an assortment of flowers spread all over the table. The plate that was his breakfast had been delegated to a space at the edge, looking like it was about to fall off. He walked towards it, reaching to pull a seat for himself, but his older sister’s deft fingers stopped in their weaving to give Julian a pointed stare.

“The floor, Julian,” Elena said. Julian sighed, and reached down to lift the chair off the ground instead. The floor was littered with scratches from when Kaspar and Elena were not around to remind Lyn and Julian, and the years before when no one had cared. 

Julian sank into his seat, clearing ample space around his plate so none of the flowers would be splattered with eggs and sauce. He pointed to the scene around him, and glanced at his little sister. “What’s this?” 

“Flowers,” Lyn said, looking up at him. Julian rolled his eyes. “I know that.”

“I had time this morning, so I went out to collect them,” Elena shrugged, “I haven’t had the time to do this in ages, so I thought why not.”

“Your essay is due tomorrow, ‘Lena,” Kaspar pointed out from where he was cooking, turning down the music coming from his phone so he could join their conversation. 

“Like I said,” Elena said, weaving quicker now, “I have no reason to not be doing this right now.”

Kaspar breathed a laugh that was both fond and exasperated, but let the matter go. Julian knew his older brother had no upper ground to stand on, seeing as the only assignment Kaspar had written more than two hours before the deadline had been a sleep-deprived analysis on a soccer team that he’d written instead of his essay. 

“So what are you doing?” Julian said, turning to glance at his little sister, who was staring hard at the half-finished weave in her hands, as if that would make it weave itself. It had obviously been made with minimal help from Elena, from how its knots were nowhere near as tight and neat. 

“I’m helping,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. Julian merely raised his eyebrows, putting another mouthful of eggs into his mouth. Lyn scowled, and folded a stem under another as if to prove her point. “It twists the other way there, Lyn,” Elena said, barely glancing up from her work. 

Julian took his time with his food, letting himself savor the lazy morning. Kaspar turned his music back up as the conversation died down, and he sang along to lyrics he knew and lyrics he didn’t. Julian looked up from his plate once or twice to throw in song recommendations, which Kaspar graciously tapped into the queue. 

One by one, the finished flower crowns piled on the table. Lyn found flower weaving was not her forte, passing her unfinished flower crown to Elena, and decided it would be more fun to ferry each of them one by one to Kaspar, who accepted them with compliments and thanks to the messenger. She put two on Elena’s head as well––one of blue flowers, another of purple––who thanked her with a nod and a small smile. Julian finished his meal, and got up to wash his plate. 

As he finished rinsing his cutlery and plate, Lyn padded up to him with a crown of pink and yellow blooms in her hand. She held it out to him. “I already gave the blue one to Lena,” she said. “But you can have this one.”

“You couldn’t at least have gotten me the one that wasn’t pink?” he grumbled  halfheartedly, putting his plate on the drying rack. 

“How old are you, twelve?” Elena said, sending him a raised eyebrow. Julian shot her a brief glare. 

He glanced down at Lyn, who was still holding the flower crown out with a stubborn scowl. Knowing it would be futile to disagree with her, he crouched down to let his little sister place it on his head. Her demeanor instantly changed, all beams and bright smiles. Julian sighed loudly.

“If you don’t want it,” Kaspar said, wearing so many different flower crowns that he had to use one hand to keep it on his head. “You can give it to me.” “You already have five,” Julian said, narrowing his eyes at him. He stuck his tongue out at his older brother, and turned to walk out. “Vete a la mierda”

He ignored Lyn’s smug smile as he stepped out of the kitchen. 

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OCtober Day 6: Luxury

Thank you @oc-growth-and-development for the prompt, as always. This is three bros, two of them roasting Pacific Rim to hell and back. I’m a big fan of this movie I swear. This is a continuation of the Exy AU, following Finley (from OCtober Day 2: Mercy). He’s in a new team, and he doesn’t need friends, they disappoint him. Very Regrettably for Finley, the friends don’t agree. Fluff with some mild angst at the end. We stan found family. Kaspar and Finley are my characters, Mantis/Margot is @statistical-improbabilities character. I also named dropped @statistical-improbabilities Mya and @carry-on-my-wayward-brain Dusk.

“This is absurd,” Finley said, watching the robot on screen slam a cargo boat into the monster’s face with a deafening crunch. 

They were sitting on the floor of Kaspar’s room, rough carpet under their legs, Mantis’ laptop in front of them as an action movie flashed on screen. Finley watched the big robot slap the godzilla-like thing repeatedly in the face, only for the creature to grab them by the tail and rip their boat-made-baseball-bat into half. He vaguely wondered, not for the first time that night, how he’d even gotten here. 

“I don’t know about that,” Kaspar said, a tub of ice cream in his lap as he put another spoonful of it into his mouth, never taking his eyes off the screen. “It looks pretty realistic to me.” “Please,” Mantis said next to him. Or Margot. She’d introduced herself as the former, but Kaspar used the latter almost exclusively. Finley had simply avoided calling her by name. “I’ve seen Green Lantern movies with better CGI effects.” “Touche,” he said, but didn’t sound the least bit insulted. He ate another scoop of ice cream. With a certain degree of fear, disgust, and strange admiration, Finley saw he was almost done with the tub. “Shhh, guys, the next part is my favorite fight scene.”

Mantis fell silent, so Finley turned back to the screen. The monster was now playing hide and seek with the robot. How anything as tall as a skyscraper managed to hide, even in a metropolitan like Tokyo, was beyond Finley’s comprehension, but he’d never been to Tokyo, so he stayed silent. 

A flashy action shot of the monster, oh so surprisingly, ambushing the protagonists. He let the lights flash from the screen as he thought about what had gotten him here. After spending hours on schoolwork in Mantis’ room, he’d been dragged along to dinner with the two of them. Kaspar suggested they all go to his room to relax before he and Finley went to the gym to do extra practice that night.

Finley hadn’t been pleased. 

“Come on, Finley, a little fun never hurt anyone,” Kaspar had said. When Finley had stared back, wholly unconvinced, Kaspar merely smiled fondly and rolled his eyes, as if he’d seen that same look hundreds of times before. “I’ll stay an extra hour to help you on overhead drills.”

“Dusk or Mya are going to get there first,” he muttered, but followed anyway.

Finley watched the monster beat its previously unnoticeable wings and lift the robot into the sky. Tension was supposedly rocketing as fast as that 500 ton beast could fly, which was apparently a thousand miles a second. He was owed a lot of overhead drills for this.

When the protagonists looked like they were about to die, all hope lost, the solution was found in a dramatic twist. The robot fell unceremoniously to the ground from an altitude of 50,000 miles above sea level. Everyone was unscathed. 

Kaspar paused the movie.

“Thoughts?” he asked, a smile playing on his ice-cream coated lips as he glanced over at Finley.

“If this movie wanted any shred of my respect, they should’ve both died right there,” Finley said. Despite the fact that he knew Kaspar had a good temper and couldn’t kill a fly, he glanced over to watch his reaction.

“Exactly what I’ve been saying,” Mantis said. Finley blinked in surprise “At the very least, the whole Jaeger should’ve fallen apart. It was way too big to have gotten out of that with just scratches.”

“Yeah, but then it wouldn’t have been as cool,” Kaspar said, leaning back lazily. He seemed completely undisturbed by the fact that both Finley and Mantis had been insulting what he had introduced as his ‘favorite movie of all time’ for the last hour. Mantis, who had evidently watched it a few times already, had said something sarcastic, but sat down to watch it all the same. 

In the last 57 minutes, she’d pointed out the main male lead’s horrible haircut, roasted his fashion sense, and cut into three major worldbuilding flaws. Finley joined her cringing, covering his eyes like a vampire in sunlight, when the female lead accidentally walked into the male lead’s room while he was shirtless. “Proper physics is cool,” Mantis said. She reached for the bowl of popcorn, and popped a few in her mouth, before washing it down with an energy drink. Finley didn’t want to know what that tasted like. “This whole thing doesn’t make any sense,” he said, irritably. 

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” Kaspar asked. Finley glanced at him. He seemed relaxed. Happy, even, with a content smile on his face. “Everything. Why are giant robots the best weapon in this scenario? They’re going to be rebuilding that place for years with the footprints it left on the roads, let alone the infrastructure damage. Second of all, how do the kaiju keep following the scientist guy around?” “Because he mind-melded with them,” Kaspar said, “The Kaiju are a hive mind.”

Finley snorted. “Why the fuck would anyone mind-meld with a hive mind race of monsters?” 

Kaspar shrugged. He tapped his spoon against his chin for a moment, thinking. “Science?” He said, almost to himself, and turned to Mantis questioningly. Finley pulled a look so skeptical he could’ve made Newton doubt whether gravity was real. Mantis, however, thought only for a moment before she nodded, “Science.”

“This is stupid,” he huffed. “To quote,” Mantis pointed out, matter-of-factly, “it’s either the most awesome dumb movie ever made–” 

“–Or the dumbest awesome movie ever made,” Kaspar said, almost gleefully, as he pressed the play button. Finley sighed.

He stayed for the rest of the movie.

---

He waited for Kaspar outside the dorms while the other man was grabbing his things to go to the court to practice. It was late by now, the sky ink black save for the few stars visible through all the light pollution. Cold wind made the chilly temperatures just that much colder. Finley waited under a street light, his things all ready, a change of clothes, water bottle, and a pair of gloves in his gym bag. With a sigh, he unzipped it, pulled out the gloves. They were black and maroon––ravens colors––and the only pair he had. 

He wrapped his arms around himself. Though years of playing exy had even him lean muscle, he was still scrawny, and not the biggest fan of the cold. Glancing at the door of the dorms, he waited. The two hours he spent watching a dumb action movie indoors would’ve been a luxury unheard of in the Ravens. Siobhan had never been a fan of movies, anyway, so there would’ve been no one for him to watch it with. For that, he was almost grateful; the movie hadn’t gotten better in the second half. 

Still, the image stayed in his mind. Kaspar and Mantis, exchanging quips and inside jokes. Mantis didn’t glance over for his reaction when she criticized the protagonist’s haircut to hell and back. When she had run out of her energy drink, Kaspar had promptly pulled another one out and passed it over to her. 

He tried to picture himself and Siobhan in those shoes. Finley didn’t have a favorite drink, and what Siobhan said was never a joke. 

But they had stood next to each other for so long. A menace on the court, the two of them. An impenetrable defense and an unstoppable offense. It had never been perfect. Admittedly, nothing in The Ravens had been, but still, he sometimes tried to find Siobhan’s triumphant grin on the faces of his new teammates. Her iron will in Kaspar’s eyes when he swung his racquet.

He sighed, staring up at the night sky. In another life, perhaps, though he doubted that concept was anything more than an impossible wish. “Hey, sorry that took awhile,” Kaspar said, stepping out of the dorms. He had obviously rushed, his shoelaces untied, and the horrible orange color of his hoodie clashing with the gold and red of his Trojans track pants. 

Finley merely huffed, and stalked down the path without him.

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OCtober Day 3 Prompt: Youth

Thank you @oc-growth-and-development for this prompt! This is a small warm up scene of fluff. Kaspar is my character, Margot/Mantis is @statistical-improbabilities‘s character.  Kaspar and Mantis are childhood friends who grow apart in their teen years but reunite in their 20s/college. Not a romance, just wholesome brotp.   A giddy laugh escaped from his throat as he pelted across the scrapyard, weaving through old tires and piles of discarded furniture and appliances. Black dust coated his shoes, most of his shins, and made dark handprints on his shorts, but he barely gave it a thought. Heroes, of course, didn’t check to make sure their clothes weren’t dirty, neither did the daring spies or dashing vigilantes as they cleared gaps between buildings and pulled off impossible stunts. With a whoop and a bounding leap, he cleared a jagged, rusted metal part that would’ve torn open an infected wound in his leg, had he misjudged it, but with the sun on his warm brown skin and several acres of black dust and rusted metal, the world felt boundless.

It was only as an afterthought that he stopped to glance behind him, shifting his weight restlessly between his feet as he did. Small patches of grass poked out between rotting wooden tables and long torn-apart appliances, most of it brown and barely clinging to life, though there was the occasional flower here and there. He peered through the mounds of debris and garbage, looking for the familiar face he’d left in his dust only a few seconds ago. Or was it minutes. His patience ran out like water out of an open pipe, and he cupped his hands around his mouth. “Margot!” 

“I’m right here!” was the indignant reply, as a girl his age pulled her way through the wreckage that was a dismantled maglev frame. Her clothes were in a slightly better shape than Kaspar’s, which honestly didn’t mean much, seeing as he was just about covered in dust at this point. She was panting slightly as she approached him, using her fingers to comb her brown hair back out of her face. 

Kaspar bounced on his heels. “Come on, you’re taking forever.”

“I wouldn’t be if you waited for 10 seconds!” she said, but Kaspar was already off, this time crawling up a large mound of debris and muck. She made an indignant noise behind him, which made him stop, turn back, and hold out a hand to her. She took it without hesitation, and clambered up the hill behind him, trying to step carefully as the debris fell and shifted under their weight. 

When they got to the top, Kaspar promptly sat and slid his way down, scratching up his legs and pants and hands as he went. Though they stung, he simply rubbed his hands together and waited for Mantis to run-jump down the mound instead. The moment she got down, Kaspar took her hand again and led her towards the very corner of the scrapyard, where a miniature maglev vehicle was standing innocently.

“Look,” Kaspar said. He let go of Margot’s hand to make a wild gesture in the direction of it, as if showing off a masterpiece. “Most of it’s still there, and it’s just big enough for both of us.” 

By most, he meant most of the outside. The frame and doors were still intact, but if he’d known what to look for in the front, he would’ve noticed quite a few parts of the engine were missing. Still, Mantis looked just as mesmerized as he did, and came over to inspect it for herself. The seats in the back had been torn out, but the front ones remained, flea bitten as they were. Tires were missing, but the jack to put them back on was still there. She ran her hands over the scratched paint, pulling back to find them covered in a sheen on black dust. 

“How far do you think it can go?” she asked. “I dunno. Forever, probably, if we had enough petrol,” Kaspar said. He opened the door to the driver’s seat. 

“I want to drive,” Margot said, trying the door to the shotgun seat. She had to test the handle a few times before it finally opened. Peering in, she sneezed at the amount of dust covering the seats and the dashboard.

“I’ll let you go after me,” Kaspar said, hopping into the seat and fiddling with the assortment of buttons and pedals there. “We could go all the way to the national park they talked about in school. They have lakes and beaches, we could bring a dog–”

“We already have a dog. And he’s better than a real one, cause he doesn’t shit,” the last word felt foreign on her eight year old tongue. She jumped into her seat and glanced at Kaspar.

“I love Chicken Sandwich too,” he said, pushing the turn signal handle up and down to hear it click, “But… we could get a real dog, too, you know? One that can run with us, go swimming.”

“You can swim,” Margot replied, “I wanna go to the city. I heard they’ve got a museum there dedicated to all this old tech—it’s just sitting there! Don’t you want to mess with it?”

There was a moment of silence as Kaspar considered it. 

“We could go to both,” Kaspar offered. 

Margot nodded, leaning back into her seat. “Both is good.”