𓆩⟡𓆪 | #CAYTODAY !

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?❞

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~?"

#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.)

"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.

It wasn’t like he looked up where the cafe was, mentally blocked out his steps, and looked at the menu ahead of time.

He knew how to be normal about meeting other people.

“So, shall we get our coffees and then I’ll give you some introductory knowledge on palm reading?” He asks, still scripting out what he would even say about palm reading. To him, there wasn’t much to it. Every part of every persons body and life gave way to their fate… assuming the palm reader knew what they were doing. He brought a few diagrams he drew out from his courses, a few additional notes on the etiquette of palm reading his family had passed down through the generations… 

"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—

❝ 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.  

"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..."

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.

'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.

( 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.

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?

#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.”

"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."

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.

"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?

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.

"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 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.”

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!"