#thecoachman

It felt like hours of stumbling along gripping his shoulder in pain while getting more and more annoyed. Maybe it was the lack of colour, Maybe it was how utterly generic fantasy this castle was or the fact the group found themselves at a castle door tasked to open an escape route for the other teams that had him getting angrier by each slow minute.

For now there were no guards here but none of them could be certain for how long. Chewing his lip in irritation he looked round to see if there was an obvious switch or something.

where: nru’s botanical gardens. when: monday afternoon. who: @thecoachman​. ♣️

THE NEWS ISN’T ANYTHING REMARKABLE, an announcement made between others and hardly remarked upon after the fact. The groundskeeper takes a weeklong vacation to visit home pretty annually after the new year—no doubt, a well-deserved reprieve.

No one thinks anything of it. Coverage for the week is usually handled—a punishment, typically, for failure.

Trey does try to make a point to stop by the botanical gardens at least once on the weekends; it’s good practice to check on his plots, especially when he’s waiting on the first sprouts of his seeds, to make sure nothing’s strangling their growth. But a busy weekend catches his attention elsewhere. In the midst of unbirthday party planning and homework needing attention, Trey takes for granted that someone should be looking after the place.

That was his first mistake.

Monday afternoon, and nothing seems amiss at first glance. The trudge to the botanical gardens is marked by enough of a winter’s chill that Trey’s chin remains comfortably buried in his scarf, hands in his pockets as he walks in step.

“—Which is why they’re not usually considered a sustainable game bird.” Trey finds himself lingering with Luciano, not particularly early to the usual club meeting but in no real hurry to do anything except get out of the cold eventually. “Besides the fact that croquet flamingos are a legally protected species, they only lay one large egg during mating season, which isn’t exactly a worthwhile haul for the trouble of getting it. Unless you’re really determined.”

The first sign of trouble doesn’t come until Trey reaches for the door to open it. He’s not paying attention, still regaling the merits of flamingo eggs. One good tug gives far more resistance than it should.

“Huh.” Another tug. Nothing.

The frosted glass of the gardens doesn’t betray everything, but a peek through shows… something curious.

Roots. Roots, whorled around the door handles as though to bar entry from the outside world entirely.

Trey stares for a good few seconds, brow knit in a furrowed confusion that doesn’t seem to match the casual tone at which he remarks, to Luciano this time:

Luciano has been mostly cautious, but once he sees Ember coming closer, he sits by a nearby chair. Might as well get comfortable. 

“Cheers to that,” he says.  “Glad your house has been treating you well.” He has always been jealous of being able to have the ability of foresight without the need to use a divination tool, but after seeing how it impacts his health, he’ll deal with the occasional migraines. Though he would be lying if he doesn’t still have that goal to achieve that state of divination.

The next question gives him pause. The implications did not fall on deaf ears. In fact, he’s gives a grateful smile with the consideration that Ember had given him. “It has been going well,” he says while holding the fiddle. “I have gotten a second instrument so I could practice a little more freely and voice a little more openly, but I still need to be mindful of the performances I give to people,” he explains as a way to maneuver the speaking. “I occasionally preform for Scarabia, but none has heard me on my fiddle aside from you.” He subtly cups his hand to around the same size of a card deck, then slowly returns to a relaxed position. “If you ever want to perform like before, you only need ask and perhaps we can locate in a less public spot.”

“And how’s...the family?” he asks. It’s still a little bit of a sore spot, but considering they were almost his second family, he might as well ask. “Mine’s been doing well, though Nonna Bella is starting to get on in years.”

“I might just have to. Always enjoyed watching you perform.” He mimics the gesture Luciano made, happy to hear that, despite it all, he still practices cartomancy. While he wasn’t aware of the circumstances leading up to their falling out, Ember is more than aware of how his home required him to keep his abilities under wraps.

He wheels up to be next to where his childhood friend sat, still keeping a bit of distance in case he at all upsets him with being nearby.

“Well…” He huffs out a small laugh, “It’s my family. Maren has taken it upon themselves to teach me technology though. Says it’s because I homeschooled them so it’s only fair. Flora is… Flora. Still a bit distant.” Ember looks over at Luciano to see if he needs to explain more anymore. Him and his oldest sister have been distant- bordering on antagonistic towards eachother- since Ember was prophecized to be the next Oracle instead of her. He pushes down the feelings of hurt that still comes when he thinks of her.

“My dads doing alright, his joint issues seem to have leveled out finally, and the Oracle…” Another sore spot he shrugs himself through, “She’s a bit peeved I came to this school rather than dedicate myself to my studies until she dies.”

To cover the sting of that thought, he focuses on Nonna Bella. Ember’s grandmother passed away when he was only four, but Nonna had helped take care of him when he was visiting Luciano’s home. She taught her more about his abilities than almost anyone else.

ALL CONFIDENCE IN THE TWO OF THEM,   or rather  himself.   he did not go into this with a mindset of  failure.  having to wonder to himself,   how hard could it truly be to fuel a fire?   such a small one at that.  maintaining this for a short period of time was easy on the surface,   likely  why the task was split up between the university’s  very capable  students.   though that confidence was quickly  shattered  the moment the lighter corroded in his grasp  —  leaving him scorching from the  wrist  to the forearm.   regardless of his own condition,   the task at hand came  first,   hoping that luciano would be able to  pull  off draining the candle of fluid before it  drowned itself.

through lilia’s training,  he was  well equipped to make fire out of minimal resources  —  a feat he’d learned at a terribly  young  age,  after being dropped into the middle of the woods for a week.  back then,  sebek never had the experience of using  a lighter,   or any kind of aid to ensure a  fire  burned stronger.   they were useful tools,  he would now decide,  as the  liquid was assisting burning into his flesh.   in  scraping  at his arm,  he was  attempting  to remove some of what had already  soaked  into the fabric.  an  expensive  uniform for sure,   but thankfully  he did not own  only  one.  this one would have to be labelled unable to be  worn  again after the manner he’d stomped it into the ground.  stopping the fire from spreading anywhere  less  savory  was his intention.   a few burns on his self was one thing,  but they could not afford to catch the entire building.  

once the situation was under control,   not looking at his own wounds  —   sebek was  much  more interested in the condition of the candle.  a wave of relief washed over him,  seeing that it wasn’t without a  lit wick  when he gazed towards it’s altar.   his appearance was a sight for sore eyes  —  unfit for being seen on campus,   & even more so  around his lord.  it would be with great shame that he would return,  if he didn’t pull a  panic  maneuver;  attempting to pull off some  half - baked plan  to tidy himself before his arrival.  

@thecoachman

Lights dance in every which direction in the strangest settling she has ever seen. The pipe-dream chord of music draws her further down the crowded path full of young children. “What is this place?” The question departs Mulan’s lips with a hushed flare and it is aimed at no one in particular. There was a tent rising from the land unlike those she had seen raised in the army camps. 

Rove shuffled the large box in his arms to try and be more comfortable as Luciano took his time to open the door. "Technically it wasn't me who answered but I helped with the coding a little." He sighed before looking to Luciano with an annoyed expression on his face. 

"It's an additive to your fencing which scans anything that approaches...if it's a fox it shoots a short electric charge to scare it off. Nothing that will kill it…I swear." He added before putting the box down letting out a breath rubbing his arms to gain back any lost feelings.

At least, that was his initial thought.

He is currently partnered up with Sebek. Compared to the other freshmen, he could've been paired with worse. Does he feel that he needs to not be as loud, not revere the ground Malleus walks as much, or at least learn some respect towards other living creatures? Absolutely. But fey are a fickle species, so he couldn't exactly blame his classmate for how he is (maybe the loudness is from his fey ancestry, but that would be rude to ask). Also, the skill he wields on a broom certainly gleams as a cut from Diasomnia.

He checks his watch. Time to feed the fire again. He glances to the fire fey, who seems to be a little tired, and also trying to hold its breath. Huh, is it wanting to sneeze? "Shall I take care of this one, Zigvolt?" he asks. He has been feeding the fire fae rather generously the past few shifts. "I wouldn't want an accident to happen while you are feeding the flame."

CHECKING UP ON THE ALTAR WAS A PRIVILEGE GIVEN,  when the time came,  he knew that there was no room for complaints on the matter.   as a member of diasomnia,   it was his duty to make sure that their school’s candle  continued  to burn brightly throughout the night.  allowing it to go out on his watch  —  it would have been  an utter disgrace.  for this, they could have been placed with anyone  —  regardless of  housing situation  or grade.   the one he’s told to meet with is a  semi - familiar  face,  the two were in a handful of classes together;  despite his place being among jamil  &  kalim.   so long as he is  on time,   ready to do their task without gripe,   he is impartial to who would be at his side;  only  lamenting  in secret that it was not a member of his own dorm.  when it came to handling  affairs,   he was accustomed to silver being at his side;   even if he had to  drag  the other's half - sleeping body across the campus at any given hour.  

showing up on time is no issue,  it’s with great relief to see that was something they had in common.   if he did not show,  sebek would have taken it upon himself to see to the candle on his own;  regardless of how frowned upon it may be.   staring at the fey with indifference,   he’s not particularly fond of it’s presence  —  nor is he bothered either.    briar valley is filled with  creatures alike;   faefolk big  &  small,  though most of such lowly ability did not speak.  a fire fey like this only had one purpose,  to maintain a  flame,  so long as a bargain was kept up. in this case, meaning they would have to care for it to some degree.

the state of the candle would imply that was not the case,  it’s  dull  - blaze illuminating the room;  hardly enough to make for a decent flame.  where had the groups before them  gone  so wrong?  

“ do not be foolish,  human.   there will be no accidents. ”   he says this with  absolute confidence.   if the last few groups could not handle themselves properly,    &  the flame was already beginning to dim  —  that meant they would have to complete this to  utter  perfection.  taking the lighter in his hand,   sebek  strikes  it a few times to ensure it is functional before holding it up to the flame.  the fae above has no  issue  with them,   so long as they seem to be  aiding  her.  his focus on the flame in front of him,   adding a  great  bit of life to the  wick  the moment his dose is applied — the room becoming brighter as he does so.   for a moment,  he almost feels relief to see  it  burning  properly;   until his nose is hit with a  rather  particular smell  —   isobutane. he cannot place the scent quick enough;  he probably would not have  recognized  it without the confusion,  considering the lack of popularity of lighter fluid in his home town.   there wasn’t a moment for comment before it combusts  —  flammable liquid splashing on his  sleeve,  lighting it up as quick as the fire.   

shock overtakes his features,  dropping the  charred  remains of the lighter into the base of the candle.  the flame is hot on his skin,  but his focus is on his  uniform  being defiled by the mishap.   there would be no reversing the damage now  —  but he could try to keep it to a minimum.  using his  other  hand,  leather glove - clad,  he starts to smack at the flame;  hoping that it would go out with a few hits.  “ ENSURE THE CANDLE IS FINE,  this is only a minor inconvenience. ”   he instructs,   hoping that this does not hinder the flame that was  looking  like it would take a better turn only a moment ago.   

the further up his arm that it burns,   the  more  frustrated with his  movements  become.  once he realizes that it’s  doing  him no good,  he tears the jacket off all together.    stomping  out the fire seems to be the most efficient approach  —  &  after his heel has meet the fabric a  couple more times than he would have liked,   he’s left with a jacket tarnished,  in no condition to be worn,   a button - down missing three - forth a sleeve,    &  a littering of irritated patches on his arm.