#lowkey angsty

THE COLOR PALETTE IS FROM TV GIRL'S 'WHO REALLY CARES' ALBUM

Why? I have no idea, inspiration can come from any place. Also the album features one of my favorite songs [Do the act like you never met me]

Closeups

True to word, Mac had practically dragged Adeuce and Jack, along with a ragtag group of other NRC students, apparently “following orders” to finish the cleaning process. Kalim had also insisted that they could still use the laundry room even though Jamil was taking the rest of the day off—which meant all he could do was stew in his room while going over his prior conversations and figure out the best way to ignore how much it affected him.

But just because he was (stubbornly) ignoring running into the Perfect again doesn’t mean he wouldn’t listen in. Jamil knew the dorm’s infrastructure before it was even built! Every keyhole and secret passage way was at his disposal.

On quiet feet, and motivated by a raging headache, the dark-skinned Vice Warden slipped through the halls and walkways of Scarabia. He made sure to have a pair of wireless headphones resting around his neck (to slip on for a believable excuse). They were currently off, so he could keep his ears open to any disturbances, but his right hand hovered nearby just in case.

Mentally, Jamil took note of the heat rising with the desert sun. MC was smart enough (and willing) to start early in the morning. Even with how drowsy xey were, barely dressed and pathetically trying to make the numerous piles of laundry look presentable. They were an idiot. And apparently an observant, suffocatingly kind, filter-less, crass, overbearing Auntie of an idiot as well. So much like Kalim… Uncomfortably close to Kalim’s personality but more matured. Understanding (as much as he hated to admit it).

“So stupid,” Jamil whispered under his breath with a frown. Even still, the long track combined with swirling heat only fueled his practiced, calculating mind. This would be the least opportune moment to evaluate his observations over all the nonsense that Mac had been saying over the course he’d ‘known’ them… He was FAR too worked up in his room to think properly, but now his brain foolishly circled back to early that morning in-time with his silent steps.

. . . . . . .

Before the magicless (legal adult) freshman made their stiff exit, back when Jamil was analyzing each and every twitching muscle in xeir clenched jaw, Jamil was attempting to fire back with a quip. There would be no way for the two to be able to continue working in such tense atmosphere MC had created. He was about to tell them off or make up an excuse, when his more childish monologue betrayed his consciousness.

Everything they said was so unfair. So blisteringly close to the truth, but blunt and lacking the usual grace, empathy or even a teasing lilt. Mac’s usual tired, dragged out fond sarcasm, like an older sibling trying to teach the youngsters without sounding too parental, was long gone. In it’s place was the same forceful, pinprick power int their eyes he’d seen through the cloud of Blot. Somehow, between hallway conversations and Jamil threatening their life, the Ramshackle Perfect had found a crack in his wall and stared him down.

Dishonest. He’d called Jamil out for being dishonest as if it wasn’t just the ingrained second-nature of a resentful servant, born and breed to stalk any threats to the boy that owned his life. His falsehoods had only ever hurt fools and ruffians who vied for Kalim’s life. No one else minded his shifting tongue or blank and burned-out eyes. No one bothered. This was what he was made for.

“Just because you’re not hiding your bitter, knee-jerk reaction from an unfair world doesn’t mean you aren’t still hiding away and lying about your more vulnerable emotions.”

They had no right—no FUCKING RIGHT—to say any of that to him. What could they know about being someone’s shadow? About being stuck shadowing the overbearing rays of the sun? Bound by the pull, the gravity of the two boys birth, Jamil would forever be orbiting just outside of what he can never have. Denied the attention, the affection, the true praise for all the great accomplishes he had to forefeet to a spoiled, airhead brat! Everything he’d been denied since he was just a child…

And yet, there was some part of himself that couldn’t lie about how they were right. How xey might know, at least to some extent, what he had been through. The tiredness, the pitiful, the soulless look deep in his eyes that would fade in and out of reality hinted to just how cruel of a life Mac must’ve had (or at least what they remembered of it) lived. Did he know what it was like to be used? To be looked past? Could their life had led to perpetual people pleasing or hiding xemself for survival or constantly worrying about what would happen if xey ever upset anyone… ever made a mistake?

Could they be so similar? Even with how happy and carefree and Kalim-like they were during the day?

They were infuriating… Oh, Great Merciful Seven, he had never felt so invigorated. It was frightening. It was exciting.It couldn’t go any farther than this moment or else all that he’s worked for would simply disappear.

An eight year old Jamil, shoved deep down in the vipers den, was screaming and flailing his arms to be noticed. To be recognized by such ad honest and trusting and supportive figure like--

Jamil’s mind had already been jumping through extra hoops than his regular mental gymnastics in order to process and combat the Perfect’s comments. It was making him feel far too vulnerable. Like a mothering hen, Mac couldn’t keep out of anyone's business. Even when they were so clearly already run ragged and probably on the verge of snapping.

It was almost ironic, how overly worried and caring and just… persistent they were when it came to the students of NRC. Especially towards the ones that had gone out of their way to hurt xem. How could it be possible that this nosy stranger, that came out of nowhere, could simultaneously be so cautious and caring towards someone they obviously… didn’t deserve their kindness. Jamil had received constant reassurance from the paradoxical force of nature that is the Ramshackle Perfect.

It was so unfair. How Jamil was this dark & twisted, manipulative asshole who’s had to pretend to be the perfect, caring servant. AND MAC! That moron got to be the enamored exasperated force that everyone flocked towards without having any real skill? Xey had even less to their name than Ruggie and yet the charisma and favor that only Kalim could harness. Was that how the two became friends? Some secret power those two perfected at their bullshit “Music Club” in order to blind the rest of us peasants to bend to their will!!! (Of course not Jamil, neither are smart or cruel enough to pull something like that).

Even on days like this, when the Perfect was snappy and apathetic, they were 100x more genuinely thoughtful and kind. What gave him the right to be so bitchy and always know better? MC couldn’t possibly be that much older…

. . . . . . .

Just as Jamil was getting frustrated with trying to rearrange his thoughts, he heard Mac directing the small herd of students.

“Okay, Sebek and Jack! You two can carry the most—”

“What about the Great Grim Hench human! Myah!”

“—and have pretty decent control over that floaty spell—”

“Human! I have already informed you—”

“Can it, you unfriendly Green Giant! Once more, the two linebacker fuckers (seriously how are y’all 16 and NOT on steroids) and Grim, I guess, will grab the thick curtains and the runner rugs. Ruggie could run—heh—run down to Sam’s to grab whatever fancy thread and whatnot to fix the throws. That pile of blankets aaaaaaaaand that miscellaneous crap also needs so mending, right Rugs?”

“Shye shee shee, sure thing Boss! An’ who’s tab will our order be account’d for?”

“Ughh, if Sam won’t let you put it directly on Crowley’s personal account then tell him it’s for the school…. It’s technically not a lie so~”

“Gotcha!” There was already a sound of shuffling and light small talk, but the easy banter and direction between the two made Jamil restless. When had MC and Leona’s hyena lackey become so close? When did they start working together so seamlessly?

“OK… Silver. You up for a quick fetch quest?” Silver’s soft yet serious reply also shocked the Vice Warden. Why were the Diasomnia students even HERE? Jamil had thought Silver was visiting Kalim?!

“Of course. Fa—Lila had instructed Sebek and I to assist you in any way we can. You’re a valuable friend of his after all.”

“Kid, chill. Lils and I gossip and rock out in club together. We don’t have a Blood Oath or something,” Mac huffed out a small, tired laugh, “But thanks for the help anyhow! All I need you to do is run over to Heartslybul and check if Riddle would be willing to check over the china and silverware in Ramshackle. The main dinning room is just left of the Kitchen, down the hall a ways. The door should be unlocked (not that that would stop any of you crazy ass wizards) but if not, just let the Ghosts know you’re helping out. I let them know we’ll be busy for the next coupla months.”

“And how are you planning to get our tea-sized tyrant to do all that?” the red-headed Freshman asshole asked his friend with a snarky tone.

“Ace…!”

“Knock it off Ace!”

“You’re not funny man.”

A cacophony of voices followed in argument before the someone let out a snort, “… It’s a little funny.”

“Guys, just ignore him. Anyway, Silver, on the long table has all the bit and bobs of dish sets I was able to scavenge so far. There’s also a few boxes of stuff crammed in the hallway closet, but I haven’t had time to check if they’re in good shape or not.”

“Trey-Senpai said something about convincing House Warden Riddle to lend you an extra tea set. Who knows how many we’ve got stored away in the dorm, I mean, we’ve used a different set with every Birthday and Unbirthday!” Mac’s Freshman blue guard supplied with earnest.

“Oh la la~ Deuce, could you go with Silver and track Trey and Cay down as well? Cater already promised to help touch up the ballroom in exchange for some behind-the-scene selfies, but if y’all remind them I’ll be taking care of Heartslybul Resident Troublemakers for a while I could talk Trey into updating the kitchen a little!”

“And I guess that means it’s just the two of us~” One half of the Trouble Makers teased.

“Ace… You get to help Rugs! And I think we could use some extra soap and—look at that! It’s practically lunch! Everyone, let’s meet back at Rams in 30 so Ace-kun can treat us to some lunch.”

“What’re you planning to do, Perfect!” He snapped back in retaliation.

“I still need to collect what’s out on the clothes line, fold ‘em and wait for this last load to finish drying. After lunch, a few of us can finish mending what can be salvaged and iron or steam whatever needs it. If this takes longer than an hour, just start putting shit away and I can fix it later.”

“Grrrmph… This’ll take all day!” Grim whined at nearly a decibel only dogs could hear.

“Relax Grim, you already got to nap half the day. Think about it this way… by this time Monday the dorm will be halfway livable!” Mac sarcastically cheered in response.

After a moment of two of grumbling from the first years, and a few goodbyes, Jamil could hear the mages-in-training all leave Scarabia’s laundry room and make their way through the commons. Instead of heading back to start lunch (it is TECHNICALLY his day off), he continued to listen to the shuffling of cloths being handled. Which was quietly drowned out by the sound of Mac humming to xemself.

Really, he should have left by now. Why would he want to risk the chance of being dragged into more cleaning that wasn’t even his priority. (Why did he still feel the need to manage and control other’s work?! It’s just adding more stress to his already full plate by sticking his hand in--)

Starling Jamil out of his thoughts, Mac started to sing lightly under their breath. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the Sophomore remembered Kalim excitedly prattling on about how Xe’d become an “unofficial member” of the Pop Music Club. The quartets sporadic sleepovers (for gossiping, exchanging new music, watching movies, light partying) had recently become a bi-monthly event.

“You are so much more than your father’s son/ You are so much more than what I’ve become/ Long before you were born there was light/ Hidden deep in these young, unfamiliar eyes/ A million choices, though little on their own/ Become the heirloom of the heaviness you’ve known.”

Mac knew they were close to dissociating. It was why they made sure to kick everyone out before someone commented on it. Xe’s pretty sure either Ace or Jack were on the verge of probing them when it took them a full ten seconds for xem to laugh at Ruggie’s joke (something about Grim getting his fur all over the white sheets while napping).

After finally having a private space to breath, the pent up guilt and anguish came back to bite them like a vengeful bitch. Hot pressure, like a balloon expanding in his chest, ready to burst even from the tiniest prick, closed their throat back into a steady hum. Hot pressure. Hot machines. Even the humid air made Mac feel like zey were floating and melting at the same time. Xeir hands continued the practiced motions while screeching words resonated deep in their head. Xe kept humming even as a play-by-play echoed back all of his worst apprehensive and aggressive and obnoxious comments. By now the room must’ve been bubbling, threatening to boil over and pop the picturesque serenity; sunlight stabbed through the windows enough to blind the rooms image and even making it impossible for Mac to simply see the cloth in zeir hand.

Gasping for breath, they finished singing: “… When you inherited/ A fight that you were born to lose/ It’s not your fault/ No, it’s not your fault/ I put this heavy heart in you/ I put this heavy heart in you.”

At some point, Mac dropped whatever aged silky item they were mindlessly folding to scratch at xeir arm. It was a practiced movement; a purposeful, forceful movement that left harsh, heavy, thick red lines up and down his rough, patchy forearm… just barely grazing a faded tat in the center of their wrist. Up and down. Up and down. Up and Down. Jamil decided to take his chance now, before their blood could dye the freshly cleaned laundry.

“It’s getting late, isn’t it?” He tried to stay cordial and neutral to not startle them too bad, but Xe still practically jumped while turning around. How troublesome. “Why don’t you go meet up with the others? I’ll just take care of what’s left here.”

“Shit! J-Jamil, you sneaky sonuvabitch… One of these days I’mma put a bell on you!” The startled Perfect rambled a little breathlessly. They were still trying to come back into their own body that zey hardly realized what Jamil even said. After a few moments they finally processed the emotionless order that was given. “Dude, I already made you get up early on a Saturday morning. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Jamil huffed at the verbal side-step. “MC, you’re about ten minutes from heatstroke,” He gave zem an annoyed, unimpressed frown when they tried to retort. “I was about to make some lunch and brew a little iced chai. You might as well have some before you finish up for the day.”

“Not a Chai person,” they replied in a rush.

“Scarabia is fully stocked with all of Kalim’s guest’s favorite drinks. At least drink a glass or two of water before the desert sun dries you up.” The banter Jamil returned sounded stiff, but encouraging; So inviting, even after Mac picked him a part like an entitled, wannabe Psych Major. It didn’t feel right to already be in his company again. Then again, xey were already pretty dizzy—dissociation, a mild panic attack, and dehydration paired with a casual case of overheating was a pretty gross cocktail for their body to handle.

The stress was really starting to affect xem lately. More nightmares, more… memories and fitful sleep led to a lower tolerance to the usual Hell that is NRC. On top of all that, it seems he might further fuck up the already unstable ‘friendship’ the two hardworking students had.

“Seriously, Viper you don’t have to feel like you need to smooth things over or take control to handle everything. What I said was none of my business, and all of this mess,” Mac stumbled towards the unfolded bundle they had been working on before feeling so woozy, “is my mess to deal with. I can grab a snack or something a little later.” They tried to put up a bigger front, but it was clear that their all-persistent (stubborn) resilience was breaking down with each degree raised in the room. It was an act coming to a close… And the only way for them to give in willingly was to force his hand.

“Mac. As the Vice Warden of Scarabia I can’t have you passing out.” Jamil blankly stated.

Fuck. The quiet tension edged with anxiety was not aided by their usual jokes. Both students were stubborn, but the magicless Perfect was tired and, as much as they did want to admit it, about to tip over any second. Better get it over with….

“Just for a minute.” Xey gave in.