if they made 6 sharknado movies, u can do anything

Floyd was trouble, and everyone at NRC knew it.

He thrived on it. The way the little guppies scattered when his long shadow stretched down a hallway. The nervous glances, the sudden silence when he laughed that sharp edged laugh of his. Most students learned early not to mess with him. Those who didn’t usually regretted it. Floyd enjoyed watching them squirm. He liked getting what he wanted without having to ask twice.

Of course, Jade and Azul kept a careful eye on him. Not because they could truly stop him when the mood struck, but because any mess Floyd made had a tendency to splash back onto the entire dorm. Still, even they had to admit his particular brand of intimidation was useful. Especially when someone tried to wriggle out of a deal with Azul.

Which was exactly why Floyd was currently huntingthrough the empty corridors of the main building after classes had ended.

You had made a deal with Azul. Nothing written, nothing signed, smart of you, really, but a deal nonetheless. Azul had handed over the answers to an upcoming test in exchange for a few shifts at the mostro lounge. You never showed. Azul had been irritated, though he’d covered it with that polite, smile of his. He liked you. Considered you a decent enough friend. But business was business, and unpaid debts made him twitchy.

So he’d sent Floyd.

You were walking alone, the late afternoon light slanting through the tall windows and painting the stone floor in gold. Your footsteps echoed softly. You weren’t paying much attention to anything beyond the quiet and the faint ache in your shoulders from a long day.

Then a hand closed around your upper arm. It was sudden and strong. You barely had time to gasp before you were spun and shoved back against the wall hard enough that the air left your lungs in a short, startled rush. Your bag slipped from your shoulder and hit the floor.

Floyd towered over you. He was grinning, that wide, sharp toothed grin that made most people take an automatic step back. His eyes were bright with amusement and something sharper underneath. One of his hands stayed planted against the wall beside your head. The other still held your arm.

“You’re pretty stupid, you know that?…” he said, voice low and almost playful. “Thinking that you can play around with Azul and not pay up. Did you really believe he’d just let it slide?”

You stared at the floor, at the tips of his shoes. Your heart was pounding. You didn’t answer.Floyd’s grin widened for a second, then flattened into something closer to annoyance.

“Aw…. come ooon. Already in scared little kitty cat mode? That’s boring.” He leaned in closer, the scent of seawater clinging to him. “I was hoping for a little more fight. Or at least some fun excuses.”

Still nothing.

His free hand came up and caught your jaw, tilting your face up with firm pressure so you had no choice but to look at him. The movement was rough, almost careless, the way he handled most things that didn’t interest him for long.

“You deaf or what?” he asked, voice dropping. “I asked you a question.”

Your eyes met his and he…froze.

He’d expected fear. Shame, maybe. A little shine of tears if he pushed you too hard against the wall. That was the usual reaction. People looked at him and saw teeth and height and the promise of something dangerous. They flinched. They looked away. They begged or bargained or went quiet in that brittle, terrified way that always made him laugh.

He did not expect whatever was looking back at him from your face.

Your eyes were dark, steady, and far too calm. There was a spark in them, something sharp and curious and almost fond, that made it feel like you were peeling him open layer by layer.

“What the fuck…”A quiet curse slipped out of him before he could stop it.

Then you smiled.

It was small at first, then wider, soft around the edges in a way that didn’t match the situation at all. Floyd’s grip on your jaw loosened without him meaning it to.

“What’re you smiling about, huh?” he demanded, irritated now, because the whole encounter was going sideways and he didn’t like it.

Your hands came up slowly. You didn’t shove him away or try to twist free. Instead your fingers wrapped gently around the wrist of the hand still holding your face. Your touch was warm. Careful. Completely unafraid.

“That…” you said, voice quiet but clear. “The way your expression just changed. It was adorable. I couldn’t help it.”

Floyd stared at you like you started speaking another language. You guided his hand until his palm rested against your cheek. Your skin was soft under his rough fingertips. You leaned into the contact just slightly, eyes never leaving his, and the smile you gave him then was gentle enough to feel almost like a secret.

“You looked just like a dog that got scolded for the first time.” you continued, a hint of real amusement in your tone. “All surprised and a little sulky. It was cute.”

Before he could process that, you turned your face and pressed a light, deliberate kiss to the center of his palm. The touch of your mouth was brief. Warm. Soft. Then you stepped out from between him and the wall as easily as if the cage of his arms had never been there at all. You picked up your bag, slung it over your shoulder, and glanced back at him once more.

“You can tell Azul I’ll work the deal off starting tomorrow.” you said, that same satisfied little smile still playing at the corners of your mouth. “I got more than I bargained for just now.”

And then you walked away down the empty corridor, footsteps steady, posture loose, as if being pinned against a wall by the most unpredictable student in the school was something that happened every other Tuesday.

Floyd remained exactly where he was.

His hand was still half raised, the place where your lips had touched still tingling like he’d been burned. His heart was hammering against his ribs in a fast, uneven rhythm. Heat crawled up the back of his neck. His jaw tightened until the muscles ached.

He was pissed.

He was annoyed.

And underneath both of those, worse than both of those, he was flustered. Excited in a way that made his skin feel too tight and his thoughts scatter like fishes when a predator swam through.

He hated it.

He hated how easily you’d flipped the entire situation. How you’d looked at him like he was interesting instead of dangerous. How you’d called him cute…cute… and then kissed his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. How you’d walked away without a single backward glance of fear. Most of all he hated the way his pulse was still racing, the way his fingers curled slowly into a fist. Floyd dragged a hand down his face and let out a low, frustrated sound that echoed down the hallway.

“Fuck…”

Ramshackle house is eerily quiet; you haven’t spoken a single word since you awoke as Grim had stirred and left sometime early in the morning. To go to classes or to skip and hang out at Heartslabyul, you aren’t too sure. It was a groggy start and you are glad for no distractions because you really need to start reviewing your (Ace and Deuce’s) notes.

The crisp morning air whipped up a sharp, entirely uninviting breeze so you abandon your plans to study outside and retreat back to the heat of your bed (so much for a half-breath of fresh air!). It’s a little boring, sitting in the same spot for hours on end, even with the occasional walk around the house. A change of scenery would be nice but what else could you do?

Your room had racked up a considerable amount of clutter. You are in no mood to pick clothes up off the ground or take used bowls and mugs to the kitchen, which have been accumulating so much you could barely see the wood of the nightstand.

Water in a mug bleeds a warm comfort into one of your hands. Normally there would be ginger and some lemon slices in there but Ramshackle does not have such luxuries. Hot water will do.

The other hand was sacrificed to the cold, holding up Deuce’s notebook close so you could decipher his handwriting. The doodles in the margins keep your peripheral vision company as you try to recall how frog slime interacts with blood without glancing at the written word.

Frog slime…frog slime…

You rack your brain hard trying to remember its properties but all you can remember is how during that lesson you had to pull Grim, who was definitely not trying to drink it, away from the green substance. Which would only be helpful if the exam was about reasons why Grim should not be left unattended without adult supervision. 

Suddenly, you hear the unmistakable sound of the door being kicked open. And a loud, guttural shriek of joy echoes throughout the decrepit house. 

“SHRRRIMMMMMPPYYYYY!”

Oh no.

Ramshackle house itself shudders, not prepared for the chaos it was about to face. You shudder too, knowing your study plans are crumbling right before your very eyes. 

That voice, that barrage of footsteps, could only belong to one person.

Floyd Leech bursts into the bedroom without so much as a knock, sprints up towards the bed in two long strides and leaps on top of it, landing right on you, wide-eyed and wholly unprepared. 

“ARGHHHH! FLOYD GET OFF ME!” 

Is what you intended to say, however all you could manage was a strange screech. A jolt of pain shoots through your throat and you realize something terrible has happened.

“Little Shrimpy, I missed cha!” Floyd giggles and makes no effort to move. He then lowers his voice and asks, “You’re not avoiding me are you?” quite seriously. You shake your head vigorously.

Jade’s voice is velvet as he greets you with his hand on his chest from afar, and immediately steps aside to make room for his housewarden.

“My, my,” Azul surveys the room. “What do we have here?”

You try to speak again from beneath Floyd, though it’s up for debate whether or not Azul and Jade could understand you. Floyd’s weight presses against you and you swear you could feel the oxygen leaving your body, lungs squeezing out every molecule. Which is definitely not helping the whole losing-your-voice thing.

You flounder, trying to worm your way through his limbs, to no avail. Jade seems to get the gist of the situation first though because Azul heaves a heavy sigh and begins monologuing. 

“Well, when I heard the rumors that our dearest Prefect has been feeling under the weather as of late, I thought it natural to pay a visit! Truly, I had hoped the rumors were simply that, but…” Azul’s eyes dart around the messy room again and land on the notebook in your hands. He smirks. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“If I may, Azul,” Jade gives a smile that is less than comforting when you fail to respond. “I believe our dear Prefect has lost their voice this morning.”

Floyd sits up immediately. “Aha ha! No way Shrimpy, you must be pullin’ our tails!”

You shake your head.

A mysterious illness, an untidy room, a desperate cram, and no voice? An all-too-familiar, dangerous glint in Azul’s eyes forms. 

All you could do was shake your head quickly, denying whatever it is Azul is offering before he even has a chance to open his mouth. Taking into account the circumstances and the current company, today was the absolute worst day to lose such a vital thing. 

Azul continues as if he hadn't seen, “A deal could be struck here, you know? One that will greatly benefit you, considering your… situation.”

“Allow us to assist you,” Jade says.

If the way all three Octavinelle students are looking at you is any indication as to how favorable the offer would be, you would rather eat Jack’s cactus and defecate needles for the rest of the day than take him up on it.

You mouth a “No, thank you” and Azul is quick to redirect. “Then, on behalf of the Mosto Lounge, may we interest you in this coupon? Consider it a care gesture.”

Reaching for the card Azul extends, you scan it over.

Good for one (1) free Mostro Lounge special drink!

“There’s a few excellent herbal beverages on the current menu that I’m sure would be to your liking,” Jade comments. 

Floyd pipes up. “I didn’t like ‘em!” He sticks his tongue out and makes a gag gesture that would surely be bad for business. Azul gives him a look.

That sounds…really nice actually.

Nice? Wait a second.

You squint to read the fine print at the bottom: This coupon is valid until the end of the month.

“EXPIRES AT THE END OF THE MONTH? THAT’S IN FOUR DAYS!” You mean to say, but your voice is fried from all your sobbing yesterday and your illness so you can’t manage more than a squeak and a look of resignation. The likelihood that you would feel better by then is slim, which is terribly tragic because a free drink sounds fantastic right now.

You eye your mug of lukewarm water and sigh.

During Heartlabyul’s visit, you had the idea to ask Crewel to brew some kind of potion to alleviate your symptoms and give you energy. But upon further reflection and essential input from Cater, that was a lousy idea because Crewel would probably have the bright and unfortunate idea of making you brew it yourself for “training purposes.”

You do not fancy tempting death with a dance or, worse yet, risk permanent transfiguration. When you do finally find a way back home, reuniting with your parents as a dormouse is severely disadvantageous.

Assuming Grim doesn’t eat you first.

And, of course, Crowley has been strangely silent and unreachable since you fell ill. There goes the plan of asking the Headmage for help. So much for magnanimity and unparalleled benevolence…

You raise an eyebrow from above the coupon. Azul shrugs, Floyd gives a cheery “You’re welcome!” and from his place in the corner, Jade offers a morbid “You should visit as soon as you can. After all, all things must expire eventually.” 

He eyes you in such a way that sends a shiver reverberating through your spine. 

The three guests leave as quickly as they came, door slamming shut behind them. You think it may be time to rethink your open-door policy, because at this rate you won’t have a door anymore.

Jade’s last words echo in your mind.

Expire eventually…expire eventually…expire eventually…

You pull the cover closer to your chest. You are not going to expire.

✦ 𓆣 ✦

Of course, when Grim returns, he is not alone.

Nope, you cannot have a single evening where you are alone in Ramshackle and actually being productive. Ace and Deuce’s notebooks have been abandoned on your dresser, keeping Jack’s cactus gift company. 

Even wearing masks, you can tell Jamil is not pleased with the turn of events. His eyebrows are furrowed together in the slightest way, his arms are crossed, and he is looking at Kalim as if fearing he is going to catch whatever ailment you're affected with through just three seconds of eye contact.

A tug on the back of Kalim’s shirt brings the boy back to where Jamil is standing, on the opposite side of the room. Better safe than sorry; the last thing Jamil wants is for Kalim to get sick. 

“Hey, how are you? It’s been so, so long since I’ve seen you and I was wondering if you finally found a way to get back home and left without saying goodbye, but then we bumped into Grim and he told us you were super sick!”

Kalim’s words tumble one after another, and you can’t help but think to yourself how Kalim’s presence is refreshing in every way. Honest and genuine and true. 

“Well we wanted to check up on you to make sure you’re not dying, because Grim said it was really serious…”

You make a mental note to have a chat with Grim later because, for the fifth time, you are not dying.

Or expiring.

You really wish you could return Kalim’s energy, but all you can do in the moment is frown, look between Kalim and Jamil, and point at your throat.

“You lost your voice?” Jamil asks. 

You nod and try to speak again, but your “yes” is hoarse and charred. It was as if your throat was igneous rock, with its cracks and grooves and residuous heat emanating from dried lava. It hurt to speak, and it hurt more to see the expressions on the boys’ faces. 

“That really…sucks.”

“Yeah you sound horrible.”

“Can we get you anything?” Kalim asks, looking around as if the answer was in the room. Jamil’s eyes also sweep over the area but he doesn’t wait for an answer, already beginning to pick up the various cups and plates on the dresser and nightstand.

“Oooh, let me help too!” 

Jamil gives him a resounding no and follows it up with a “Just-just don’t touch anything” upon seeing the sorrowful expression on Kalim’s face.

I don’t need any help. It’s alright. Thank you but I’ll manage.

Words of protest are out of your reach and all you can do is watch helplessly as Jamil walks about the room and cleans what he can. Bickering ensues when Jamil heads to the kitchen and Kalim follows.

Kalim reappears in your room shortly after, looking somewhat forlorn.

He recovers immediately upon seeing your face, and begins to regale the minutiae of student life since your absence. You wrestles with your initial FOMO and eventually find a unique comfort in Kalim’s tales. 

Jamil returns as Kalim begins telling you how he was going to throw a party this weekend.

“Oh, but I want you to go! Maybe I should postpone it another few days…”

“Here! I made you some tea,” Jamil interjects loudly, diverting Kalim’s attention from a possible postponement because that would be more work. And Jamil already arranged for the animals to come in this weekend.

He hands you one mug and Kalim another. Jamil’s mug is set on the dresser. The aroma is new to you, and you takes a tentative sip. The liquid is hot on your tongue, but the slight natural sweetness makes up for it.

“It’s Anise tea,” he explains. “It’s good for you, full of antioxidants. Also, not caffeinated.”

Kalim perks up. “My favorite! I always drink it whenever I have tummy aches.”

“This is really good, thank you!” You try your best to articulate, but your throat burns and it’s not because of the steaming tea.

“Don’t talk,” Jamil commands.

Your attempt is swiftly struck down. For a fraction of a second, you think it is because of his unique magic and then realize it was just his direct tone and also the fact that you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to.

You and Jamil listen to Kalim’s stories as he continues, thankfully moving past the party topic. You in your bed, head propped against a pillow. Kalim resting on the foot of the bed, much to Jamil’s dismay. And Jamil sitting on a chair he had pulled out beside Kalim. They each sip from their respective cup. The tea has cooled to a gentle temperature; warm, but not scalding. A soft kiss presses your lips every time you lift the mug.

Kalim twines stories together effortlessly, each separate one braided into the other as if it were always intended as one big story. Even the most mundane things became of vital importance when he spoke of them. His hands move wildly and each gesture makes each detail all the more thrilling.

Heartslabyul’s visit was loud and boisterous, thoughtful friends keeping you company. Savanaclaw, relaxed, giving you what you need in the moment. Octavinelle, a little scary. Your ribs still hurt from where Floyd’s elbow jabbed, but you did score a coupon you were sure Azul made just for you. Where one might expect ulterior motives, you found a strange and rare kindness shifting just below.

But Scarabia’s visit was comforting. You needn’t talk. You needn’t entertain, nor argue. You could just listen. And listen you did, until all the tea had been sipped and all the stories spoken. 

The mug was promptly plucked from your hands (you had learned not to object), washed, and put to dry. Jamil gives you directions on how to make the tea again, placing a small container of Anise seeds on the dresser.

You mouth a “thank you” in his direction, and hoped it would convey how truly grateful you are. Jamil gives a brief smile he was not quick enough to catch and Kalim beams.

The pair leaves in the late evening, but a lingering and fulfilling feeling remains.

Not too long after, Grim returns. As it turns out, he did go to Heartslabyul and he came back with physical evidence in the form of another one of Trey’s pots. Not broth this time, but a zucchini soup. From the Botanical Garden, Grim relays.

“Oh yeah, I bumped inta Epel on my way back and–”

You whip your head around to see Grim getting comfortable on your bed. You're looking him right in the eye, expression more serious than he had ever seen before.

“If you tell anyone else I’m sick I’ll—” Your voice is practically gone, but you makes sure to enunciate every single word. “I’ll kill you.”

But it doesn’t sound like a threat. 

- the rest of the doctors make an agreement to give Grace plenty of warning before coming near him when he's half asleep again. Rocky explains that yes, Grace just is that quick, and he knows when things are going down.

- when the biodome is done, Grace and Rocky take a trip around it and explore. Rocky thinks it will be funny to throw a stone at Grace. Grace friend has no sound perception, silly. Grace can't view things when he's facing away, Grace will never see it coming. Grace hears Rocky scuffling around and gets the weird human sixth sense, so turns at the last second and catches the rock mid air, in one hand, then skims it across the water. Rocky is VERY unnerved, and also cant work out which bit is more impressive, the catch or the skim.

- later, when teaching the pebbles, they go on a heavily supervised trip into the biodome. One little pebble breaks off and hides in a rocky outcropping. Teacher Grace will never find them here. Cut to Grace stalking through the rocks like a true predator, all senses straining, and eventually snags the wayward rock and carries it back to the group. None of the other pebbles consider going AWOL again. Teacher Grace can find them.