IDIA.

Maybe one day i could be a real hero. Why did it have to be this way ? I... We just wanted to be the same as everyone else.

S-ESSHA. open & independent IDIA SHROUD. interactions open to any/all muses, replies to twst—focused quicker.

Ortho’s words do little to de–rail thoughts ——   rather,  they encourage an entourage of them far beyond Idia’s own control up until his mind no longer processes anything beyond crackling fuzz and static.   Between the two of them,  if one of them had the capability of an ERROR MESSAGE screen,  it seemed more in Idia’s favor rather than Ortho’s;   lips tug back into a tight grimace and fingers brush past locks of flame,  stray getting pushed over shoulder as much as he could manage,  hissing at shorter pieces’ inability to cooperate in the moment. 

“It’s not impossible,”   words slip out through weak chuckles,  diverted more than they were any help towards rapidfire inquiry,   “More than probable, actually. Ugh.   This wouldn’t have even been an issue if the school relied less on its magic,  right?   Like,  I get it’s an arcane university,  but c–c’mon...”

At least that made two of them who weren’t exactly average ———   even so,  recovering from the fall ( which was already making frail bones ache as though he’d fallen from too high of a height in some game rather than a mere few feet off his height in quick seconds post awful-luck occurrence ) didn’t make the sight of the other drenched and looming with a sense of conviction much easier.   Rather than the usual visage of the ultra-SSR, princely appearance of Malleus Draconia,  crown royalty and soon-to-be king of the Valley of Thorns,  the image of him came more along the lines of some fantasy horror manga antagonist waiting to deal the final blow.

Of course,  they both were drenched,  but if there was any guessing to be done,  Idia had the threat-level of a sopping wet kitten rather than being more than prepared to fire up the finishing move on said sopping wet kitten.   Gold hues reflect well enough in the dark at least,  flame dimmed by the weather’s grace.   Sam’s shop was looking about off the mission by now ——   this is bad,  but like,  really,  really bad.   Frantically, lank form scoots back as far as he can manage in a blind panic —   and with that resounding click of heels,  skin is jumped out of with an additional pitiful whelp.   He’d strayed from the direct pathing,  too,  and was more than aware of now being covered hands and underneath in bits of mud.   That,  too,  made him want to jump out of his skin if not his entire form.

The worst part was that prominent boom from the others’ voice,  too.   Entrancing as it was like thunder,  some consequential, unobstructed warning for what may be soon to come.

GLOOMURAI      today at xx:xx

LOOOOLOLOLOL

GLOOMURAI      today at xx:xx

WTF is wrong w/ u but like in a good way LOL

GLOOMURAI      today at xx:xx

TQ my liege for the the horse

GLOOMURAI      today at xx:xx

we r like nearly unintentionally matching. horse warriors

Finger taps the edge of his mouse,  grinning with so much passion someone probably thought he finally beat some impossible speedrun record.   He might as well with how fast he replied with his,  though.

GLOOMURAI      today at xx:xx

MY MUSE & SLEEP.

...   The short is that,  in general,  Idia wasn’t exactly blessed with the most conventional sleep schedule.   In younger years,  his hours were more often than not filled with early-developing video games and their predecessors,  the conventional board and tabletop games,  the facilities security was much more finicky than it was before he dedicated time into fixing it for his family ——   the first steps of being a prodigy,  no doubt,  but it also meant that in the living quarters,  announcements in the dead of night —   breaches,  emergency practices,  among others —   were an absolute necessity and often riled him out of bed soon enough,  aided awake and walking by the families staff to a safer area while helping his own little brother stay awake at his side too.

Back then,  they’d sleep wherever,  drowsy and lacking proper sleep.   The emergencies died down eventually, and Ortho one day failed to sleep ever again, which led Idia on his own.

Happpyyyy beginning of the new month! 

First things first, account information is finally updated including more well-stated rules / guidelines, updated tag masterlist list linked at the rules permanently. Interactions this month have been so much fun so thank you for all of the threads, I’m definitely living and looking forward to continuing with some of these lol.

"Anyway be sure to eat all of it. I'll be mad if you have left overs." He added. Inside once unwrapped, Idia would find two half sandwiches, one Katsudon and one omelette. A cat shaped onigiri and some fruits and veggies cut in the shapes of butterflies and moths. Rather childish but reminiscent of an anime that the dorm had watched recently during a stream party.

RARE ITEM DROPS around this time of day?   Talk about being taken aback,  expression twisted into raised eyelids,  pupils dilated and hands itching to inspect the meal as though there was a terrible catch ——   or,  that was rather replaced by sudden narrowing of vision,  darting right towards Rove like some terrible grievance was placed by this sudden inbox gift.   Friends list status,  dubious.   The only thing stopping him from out-right declining was his own HP which,  having taken countless hit after hit with the more than pressured socialization that this entire Ramshackle incident was entailing, was getting low.   HP that was so low,  it was almost questionable not to accept the gift.

“——   W-What?”   Idia chokes on his own words,  disbelief suspended momentarily as fingers twitch in place.   Eye contact lacks in their little shared interaction,  and the fault lay entirely on him,  trying to seem more interested in the ground rather than the meal placed right in front of him when it was definitely the opposite.   Hiding out in a room with minimal groceries due to delivery complications wasn’t really doing him favors,   “I—   I-Isn’t there someone else?   Like,  wh-what about...”

YOU CAN’T JUST PAIR THE SCHOOL’S BIGGEST LOSER WITH A TOTAL IKEMEN,  it’s just not fair at all to the former———   it’s practically disgusting,  actually.   It makes them both look like laughing stocks,  especially after skyfall.   Who’d want to curse a total prince-like character type in ( practically literal ) armor to walk at the side of the RARE: HERMITTED PYRE alerting nearly everyone of their surroundings rather easily;   going stealth wasn’t possible with a quite arcane,  impossible-to-break familial blood bond rendering you as a ( again,  practically literal ) beacon in comparison to the general population.   Suddenly, and without any proper warning,  the stress of this little raid bites at him hard enough to elicit a crackling hiss of flame,  body turning suddenly towards the complete opposite direction,  exhaling from deep in his chest.

“......   D-Damn...   Why’d it have to be our college of all places.....?”

Royal Sword couldn’t have even taken a small bit of this hit instead?   Why’d it have to be all Night Raven,  weather crystal and all?   The only upside was that Ortho,  though just barely and miraculously,  didn’t become part of the piles of rubble and managed to successfully evade the chance to join the rest of it.   The idea alone was enough to shoot a resounding,  bone-chilling shiver straight down his spine,  jerking ill posture into place and slowly beginning to sweat.   His head shakes,  fighting against the wave of terrible realization before opting to wipe away even the hypothetical thought ——   it made him nauseous,  and he didn’t like it,  so it was time to move on.

Gold optics clue in on the little bits of demolished glass and plastic amongst remnants making at least Diasomnia seem more and more like an abandoned castle from a fantasy horror;   shattered stone,  crumbling beneath even his steps,  obscuring them just enough that without a hefty perception build they’d probably go unnoticed.   In any case,  why he was shocked to see the aftermath of this all should’ve not been an issue,  but it was.   Quietly,  his steps shifted closer to Ortho,  fisting hands into his pockets.   Those were broken cameras,  he thinks.

"BOO!" He ambushes the Ignihyde housewarden from one of the storage units, threadbare fabric draped over him as if mimicking a ghost. He offers no time for the older student to react before he suddenly charges at him, hands curled into claws.

“S-S-STOP IT!!!”

Talk about dramatic —   Ruggie wasn’t that much of a threat beneath linen sheet,  not trying particularly hard to roleplay this out in the end. Or, if that was supposed to be the intention,  Idia at least held the pleasure of being able to tell him it was child’s play.   Strikingly similar to Ortho when they were younger,  but that was something he’d face with less fear and more tact when the memory didn’t serve as a beacon of guilt washing over him all over again.   Of course,  that fueled the ultimate take off ——   and even if out of shape,  he moved way too quick.

“G-Gah,  t-this is..!”   unsurprisingly, words entwine with desperate wheezing,  and barely in the midst of legs trying to carry him as quickly  ( towards his room )  as possible,  “So—  H-Haa— beyond regulations! ~   W-What happened to enrolling at a university!......   W-Way beyond normal———   Way too problematic!”

RUNNING is a skill ———   and unsurprisingly,  like most if not all skills,  they require tedious,  dedicated hard work ( and time ) to LEVEL UP into it's absolute highest capability.   That being said,  RNG was a funny thing;   while some were more blessed in terms of how easily they could level up specific skills,  i.e. running,  not everyone got that advantage.

Idia did not have that advantage.   By graceless grab of the shoulder,  there’s no use not giving in to every single screaming point in his body;   sharp,  twisting stabs in already weak ribs made no mistake of logging on amidst everything else.   That wasn’t even mentioning how hard it felt to breathe,  having flailed and even sprawled out across the floor in defeat lucky #7.   TL;DR,  the underclassman chasing his tail did have that advantage,  leaving Idia paying the -300 HP,  MP,  and Mental Fortitude consequences for this little practice-mode ( his ultimate failure,  no doubt )

      “Jack-shi,”   the words come in gasps,  a brutal choke on a lack of air sending him into a sweaty coughing fit ——   all he could hope and pray for was that no one was looking,   “H-Haa...   Ghk–   Jeez,  dude,  is it impossible f-for you to give your senior a break?!—”

The floor is so cold,  it feels nice against thin skin.   Maybe wearing his usual ‘uniform’ didn’t exactly help in this scenario, practically LARPing Spiritcatchers because of the universities problematic oddities. Go figure!

‍ 'ARE YOU OKAY?'

...      Muscle had jumped far in his jaw,  nowhere near ignorant to a rather stale draft hitting the nape of his neck ——   how did it even hit there anyway?   Head full of cold flame should serve as +50 DEF at an absolute minimum.   Normal air doesn’t just pass through something like that,  and natural sciences wasn’t exactly his strong suit,  that was just basic knowledge.   You don’t feel a breeze through thick ember when it more often than not doesn’t shift minus an idle wave,  and you don’t go lich-cold to skin’s touch,  and sweat profusely,  by doing nothing unless you’re  ( although relatively common for Idia,  he was sure he wasn’t )  sick.

Maybe a lack of sleep was getting to him.   It’s not normal to watch your surroundings vanish,  even when you want them to,  and it’s not normal to smell putrid rot.   A rot that,  nose-sensitive as he tends to be,  the source or scent was far beyond him.   Maybe if he was a beastman,  or even half of one,  he could figure it out more.   Logic attempts to null and consequently ignore the paranoid itches clawing in the back of his skull.   That was for the better.   If not better,  then straight-up for the best. 

AFTER ALL,  magic was a thing of this world,  and to some degree,  that was a detriment ———   it made the mortifying plots of plenty of low-budget  ( and high-budget )  horror flicks more than plausible / possible,  and like everything else deemed an ungracious negative,  Idia didn’t like that either.   Whatever normalcy he begged any Olympian god for was,  like usual,  not going to happen.   That was what he had to settle with.

A click of the tongue signals blatant distaste,  ember flickering around his features before exhaling,  guttural.   In that sense,  maybe they ought to have curved around Rove instead —   maybe Rove should take responsibility for his own failure to take care of his equipment,  too.   Or maybe pettiness was taking it's toll, and the way his eyes roll,  he swears they were two seconds from rolling out of his skull.   Either way,  there was no denying it;   there was no plausible way to sneak out of this interaction,  not now anyway.

Idia rises from his chair with a hiss,  soreness he hadn’t expected now more than apparent.   Apparently not even a chair intended for the sole purpose of aiding in posture wasn’t helping.   A quick stretch should do it,  then it’s back to trying to get some semblance of sense out of his ( by social hierarchy as dorm leader, anyway ) junior.

No amount of sugar-laced wording shielded an undeniable truth between the two of them, but especially not Idia, determined as he was to push physical interaction off for as long as possible.