THE KIDS AREN'T ALRIGHT!

He was sent to take some files up a floor, deliver them to the Scarabia dorm leader, which meant really deliver them to Viper —

He liked to say it like he was punching it out of his mouth.

Viper Viper

He could lay so much of that name on his tongue and twist it in different directions making every iteration different, unique, something under the saccharine sweet crooning or transgressive bark; it always sounded like he said it with a fat grin on his face. And this time was no different.

Target spotted, and like a heat seeking missile he led chest first, the subtle delinquent lean as he took step into the lecture hall, making quiet ways up to where he was clearly focused on whatever was in front of him. School work probably. Nerd. Once he was in front of him, and only then, did he decide his drawl, his calling card, the way he took such pleasure in dicing up this guy’s perfect (and cool) surname.

“Heeey~ Viper — ”

Like a fist with a kiss.

But this one more subdued. Meant for Jamil’s ears only considering he wasn’t particularly loud with it. It’s punctuated by him slapping down the files next to the classmate. Mission completed! That means he doesn’t have to go back to class now!

Davaa had been talking to Viper more since they had been put in some of the same classes in 2nd year. So little by little he’d start instigating him more. Some sharp remarks thrown his way; once, twice, they got sillier, they got more nonsensical, he was agitating on purpose but that was par for the course. But he kept coming back. Jamil really gave lackluster reactions, but something about the deadpan rebuts tickled him. It was the look in his eye. If looks could kill~

He wets his lips once before speaking again, keeping a steady, half-lidded gaze on their peer.

“Told me to give this stuff to Kalim. You can do that if ya want.” lol.

"Gotcha!" Cheka giggled as he jumped out from behind the bushes where he was hiding. "Did I scare you?!" (any muse you'd like :3)

@princecheka

The moment Cheka is spotted on campus is the moment Davaa's group chat starts lighting up with notifications. A lot of complaints about a deadbeat uncle and lamenting having to hold their tongues when shouting expletives at each other. For the most part though, Davaa doesn't dictate what his gang of hooligans says or does in regards to the twerp. It is known however that Davaa seems to be pretty lenient with the kid, often bending his own schedule and whims to fit whatever the lion cub is feeling that particular moment.

He actually hadn't seen him yet today though and maybe he was already primed and on the look out for the menace by the time he heard some rustling from the bushes. The sky looked so beautiful today though, wow yeah… the sky through the botanical garden glass, yup, look at those clouds! And those plants directly at eye level and-

🧨 Davaa Ref Sheet; (by me)

+

Kin Onion 1.0 guys this is…. kinda scary starting from shan yu, going clockwise:

twisted from Shan Yu, Mulan

Tekkonkinkreet (movie), though specifically the character Kuro

Wallace Wells, Scott Pilgrim vs The World

Sasaki Kojiro, Vagabond

Retsu Unohana, Bleach

Erik Killmonger, Black Panther/Marvel

Jabber Wonger, Gachiakuta

Taabe, Prey (2022)

Scar, Fullmetal Alchemist

Yakumo Murai, Blue Period

Kazuo Kiriyama, Battle Royale

"Hm, I don't know about that..." And he is standing like this 🧍‍♂️ as he says it. Crowley is being very vulnerable with you right now, do you understand? The breadth of his kindness? His trust in you? Random student and/or faculty or whomever this is he is addressing? His whole front is exposed to whatever harsh words you may have, or attacks, or what have you. Because he really doesn't know what you're talking about! And that's sad... and he wouldn't lie about it either... or pretend not to know because it's more convenient for him... Yes it may seem like he is slowly, yet obviously skirting away from your presence with his squeaky, gaudy shoes but you're just imagining things!

What do you do?

✒ Call him out / reprimand ✒ Agree ✒ Attack ✒ Dealers Choice

“Jamil?”

It was wishful thinking maybe. Davaa thought he’d meet Jamil one day, someday, but it wasn’t something he was actively searching for. Be it his own stops and starts, desire or fears, he kept the sentiment to the side, right in his periphery but never in front of him. It wasn’t so much avoidance as it was having other things to worry about. Both their lives seemed to be going perfectly sound (as far as Davaa knew on Jamil’s part, he would only ever see updates through magicam or what have you) but it was enough to satiate whatever anxieties he has for the former classmate’s well being as well as giving him an excuse to put it off. It’s not avoidance per se, he doesn’t want to fall back into that pattern, but butterflies in the pit of his stomach. Fluttering worries that are more stereotypically crush-shaped that makes him even more embarrassed. If he said ‘I miss you’ that would be painful. Painful in the cringe way right? Silly, ridiculous, delusional. Right? But he did. He does. And he wants to see this guy again even apart from past feelings because they were friends, even if neither of them admitted it outright back then. Stubborn teenage pride, the hubris of them both, is what was cringe. 

Things are different now. Years have passed. He’s standing in a gallery of his own blood, sweat and tears and some rich admirers are going to buy them for money he couldn’t exactly fathom. He was standing there only half paying attention to what his patrons were saying but he at least had his curator with him who was doing most of the heavy lifting on the negotiations, financial and logistics. There was a smudge on his glasses. He didn’t particularly like wearing them but he needed them to read now or for anything that requires finer detail work. It also totally makes him look smarter than he is, more refined or whatever. Along with slim-fit black slacks and dress shoes and black dress shirt practically half unbuttoned but tucked in because getting him into anything aside from joggers is a negotiation in itself. ‘You have to look presentable’ and all that. Even if anyone was allowed to wander in for the viewing, he still had to seem at least semi-serious as an artist. Although Davaa would argue having an eccentric gimmick would garner more attention, so he should have worn something totally obscene instead. Davaa is currently glad his manager had shot down that idea. 

His line of sight wanders to the smudge on the class directly in front of them, moving to remove them but hesitates when a distraction behind the buyer's head. It’s been awhile. Not too long, it could have been longer, but maybe just long enough. The man’s shoulders tense, his posture straightening and adding a good few inches back to his height from slouching. For how alert he seems now it’s possible his eyes even dilated after spotting them from across the room. But he’s still embroiled in this conversation. Brown eyes flicker from person to person, thinking frantically about what he should do right now at this very moment. Mouth gapes a little, preparing to excuse himself somehow but nothing came. He awkwardly shifts, shuffling away from the other three mumbling something something toilet something something emergency something you can have it for free hold on- and making a goofy little b-line to the familiar face.

YOU KNOW, he is so kind. So gracious and generous and helpful. So helpful, in fact, that he will eagerly take on tasks he is not qualified for, if only to alleviate the burdens of his overworked staff. How hard could it be? Grading a written assessment from one of Trein's classes. It had a key and everything so obviously not at all! It was just tedious and... well his show was going to be on soon, and also he was hungry and could use a snack, maybe even something especially sinful and not good for his old aching body. He has graded exactly, half a test before the clicking of his fingers on his mahogany desk stopped and was replaced with the fluttering click-clack of his heels as he dashed out of his office in a haste, stack of papers in tow. Unlike Crowley's usual meandering however he walks with a purpose, finally making his way to a specific classroom whom he knows that attendant within. He peeks through the threshold of the doorway, smiling pleasantly. "Hellllloooooo~ Anyone home?" he knows someone is home. He knows Kuro has been assigned to this homeroom due to the other teacher being out sick. And since class had only just recently let out he knew that the sub would still be milling about, cleaning and what have you. Gold taloned fingers holds the stack of ungraded papers flush to his chest as he creeps in inch by inch, the chipper cheery act not falling at all.