was waiting for you to show up

You don’t know how long you’ve been in the Ghost Realm. Time seems to unravel here and, with each new terrain that your team explores, a sinking feeling fills your gut. The search for the magestone seems to be a hopeless endeavor. Doubts have begun to fill your mind. 

Does your team even know how to get back?

You think, perhaps it's time to turn around. The odds aren’t in your favor. It’s only time until your rations run out, until your team turns a foul path, and you find yourselves as fresh citizens of this realm. Screw the magestone! 

You turn on your heels— Then, a bright light engulfs you. 

You find yourself atop a castle bridge, the wind howling.  It’s not as shocking as the first warp that you’ve experienced. What is shocking, however, is the increase of familiar faces around you. Your teammates, all of your schoolmates who’ve embarked on this dauntless task, have been gathered here. You stare at each other in astonishment, but the reunion doesn’t last for long. 

“There they are!” You hear a shout from afar. On the other end of the bridge, a squadron of ghost-knights barge in. “Those are the living folk that have been terrorizing our citizens! Arrest them!” The knights begin to charge, everyone has no choice but to run. 

The only exit throws everyone into the castle’s audience chamber. It’s grand, it’s spacious. There’s plenty of routes for people to run, plenty of objects to hide behind, but most noticeably–

“It’s the magestone!” You hear someone gasp. You turn your head around to the end of the hall, where the stone rests caged and atop of a pillar. It gleams beneath the firelight, a beautiful shimmer. You’re about to make a run towards it, but then every door slams open. More troops pile in. They begin to surround everyone— It’s time to think fast!

OOC INFORMATION BELOW THE CUT.

@threadedwheels

Nightraven University housed a very high end selection of students. Among them were princes, heirs, celebrities, not to mention Clementine himself.

He had heard of him around school. Ember Parca. Apparently he was to become the next Oracle, blessed with the gift of powerful clairvoyance. And apparently, he was open for readings.

Clementine didn't care how much he had to pay, he wanted a reading, just to be able to say that he got one. A reading from the future Oracle... what an honor, what an occasion, what a talking point at dinner parties for years to come.

He wasn't really taking this all that seriously. It was a novelty to him, at best. He was kind of curious to hear what would be said about his future, because he didn't have any plans for it himself (except for maybe one), so maybe he'd hear something interesting. But he wasn't sure if he believed in stuff like this, honestly... he was open to the idea of it, but definitely not sold.

When he got the tip that Ember usually hung out in a secluded corner of the courtyard, he got ready immediately, and quickly went over to see if he was there. Someone was. It looked like Jinxie's little boyfriend. Were they seriously the same person...? That was interesting and a half.

Well… if he was honest with himself he hated many things about his fate, but he was anything but.

It wasn’t as if his family was incredibly well known. Once upon a time, yes. The Fates controlled your life, the three sisters, named for these forces, that he descended from knew every detail from the moment you were born to your last breath. You told people you were related to them and you were akin to a child of the Great Seven.

Nowadays, being a Parca was akin to being a… “Magicam celebrity”, as his sibling put it. If you had any interest in divination then, yes, you knew of the Parca family.

If you weren’t? Ember seemed to just be some weird man with a staring problem and a penchant for glowing gold. But, to receive a fortune would still give you bragging rights.

All this to say, when the student who was being flirtatious and frustrating to his boyfriend came up to him, he had a suspicion about what he was going to ask for.

AFTER finding nothing of note from that ruined castle, leaving the area was a given but— the venture only led the group into another strange place.

the remains of a dead forest surrounds them. the path ahead was dark, decorated with dried leaves & torn off tree bark. utterly perfect for alerting anyone nearby of their location with just one misstep.

ortho did his best to assist by shining a light ahead for the group to see. reflecting on the path like bright flashlights from the android's eyes— it made the trek just a bit easier.

❝ ah— i see something ! ❞

ortho had mostly been quiet during their walk, but when he spotted an old backpack among the ruins he brightened up.

reaching down for the bag, the miracle was proven to be TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE when ortho's light highlighted another.

the owner of the bag, very displeased.

NO USE IN wasting breath suggesting they step lightly or stay alert when the world can tilt from right underneath their feet.

Case in point: the certainty of a hall gives way to (would-be) greenery, gnarled trees that look as though they’ve seen better days. There’s a faint crackle in the air like lightning should still be on the horizon.

And Ortho has already found them trouble. This time, though, Trey is ready:

“Ortho! Haha, there you are.” There’s a spectral form hovering in the light that illuminates the path; just out of sight in shadow is their prize. We dare not stop, or waste a drop—

Trey jogs up to Ortho. “Good thing you’re giving us some light. Pretty easy to get lost around here. I’m sorry if my friend startled you.” So let the paint be spread.

Simple, easy. No more bag. Only a pile of leaves.

↳ @hyaina​​ / @threadedwheels​​ / @vipetriol​​ / @99lostsouls​​. ♣️

Ruggie thinks, he’s had enough tumbling for the day. His back has gone awfully stiff, undoubtedly a result from being thrown against every surface imaginable. He’s lucky that the forest floor is soft, monochromatic earth giving away beneath his weight, and perhaps the hyena would feel a sense of relief if they weren’t in this ghost realm.  

There’s a pop from Ruggie’s shoulder as he rolls it, evoking a hiss as he makes a half-hearted effort in keeping with his team’s steps. His uniform’s soiled with midnight paint; it’s gonna be a bitch to wash out from Savanaclaw’s leather. Hyena ears switch as he hears Ortho speak, then arch backwards as the light hits an ominous face. Ruggie takes a step back, then another, until he maneuvers himself to crouch behind Ember’s– a much taller teammate– figure. 

“Startled me?” Ruggie hears the ghost say as he silently kneels onto the ground. He inches towards the underbush, movement light. “That brat’s trying to steal my bag!” Pale eyes flicker back to see the ghost pointing accusingly at Ortho. “--And what are a bunch of you living folk doin’ out here, anyway?!”  

Ruggie doesn’t jump in to help de-escalate the commotion. His paws are in the bushes, rummaging around until he plucks something juicy from the thicket– A cluster of mushrooms. 

Ruggie rolls a 4 and harvest Mushrooms! Mushrooms: You’re desperate to eat something and this is the only thing you have. Roll 1d20. 

“Ohhh—!” He exclaims, then immediately hushes as his gaze dashes back towards his team. He silently places it into his vest’s inner-pocket, refusing to alert the team of his finding. 

Ruggie hiding behind him, an angry ghost in front of him, and the rest of his team staring between Ortho and the ghost.

“…Yes, we’re lost, is all,” He agrees, hearing Ruggie sneak around behind him. Whatever he just found is a question for later, right now he needs to practice his worst skill-

De-escalation.

to blink, and suddenly have your teammates— your upperclassmen on the ground brought about a dizzying confusion.

but there was no time to be confused. that would only seal a gruesome fate - it would be foolish.

and ortho was not designed foolishly.

in a string of bad luck, after the spirit had successfully taken down jamil— its path of screeches and wails seemed to be heading straight for ember next.

in a quick effort, ortho charged forward, shooting out a laser from his palm.

ORTHO ROLLS A 12 AND 20 FOR DAMAGE: HIT for 2 DMG!

PAINTING GHOST’S HP: 0/3

ORTHO’S HP: 5/5

the stench of flames and burnt oils wasn’t pleasant, but being killed wasn’t anymore agreeable.

once the flames of the burning painting went down, ortho reached to help up his injured colleagues.

"...let's look around first," He says, stepping ahead of the group and around the smoldering remains, "Then proceed."

His eyes scan the world around them, focusing on the ground to find either some mark left by another being or some food... anything to help the group. Instead, they land on a small plant growing out of an abandoned planter near the window. He picks up the plant, inspecting it, before...

"...this is mint," He tells the group as he chews on the leaf, "Anyone want any? It's good to chew on to keep focus."

He can’t help his ravenous disposition! Ruggie crinkles his nose, but doesn’t protest as Ortho pushes him away. Jamil’s nomination for Trey to be their leader strikes his curiosity. It makes sense, theoretically, but the thought of being led by someone with as much assertion of a kudu almost makes him snort. 

Well, noncommittal leaders came with certain advantages, too. 

Pale eyes flicker towards the bar nonchalantly placed in Trey’s pocket. Ruggie feels his fingers itch, but keeps them at his side. Instead, as the team discusses their predicament, he rotates his ears in an attempt to pick-up sound. 

“I’m not pickin’ up any noise here ‘sides us,” Ruggie pitches in, “No echoes, no movement, no mice, nothin’.”  He examines the nearby staircase, “So, we don’t really got a choice but t’go higher, right? Ember’s mirror doesn’t work ‘n Ortho’s connection’s all funky, the only other option we got is t’sit around like anxious prey waitin’ t’get plucked.” 

@threadedwheels / @vipetriol / @99lostsouls / @troisfleurs-blog​

Would heading to higher ground really make a difference? As far as Ortho’s connection and the mirror’s functionality are concerned, Jamil doubts it. The layout of the place doesn’t seem linear— not if the winding staircases stretching out in every possible, nonsensical path are of any indication. He’s not an expert in technology by any means, but navigating this place is bound to be more complex than blindly waving a phone around in hopes of reception. 

But, it’s true that they stand nothing to gain by staying here, and it’s best to get moving. 

While the group debates their options, Jamil notices a familiar bottle lying by his feet. He kneels down, sliding it into his pocket covertly as he pretends to tie his shoelace. 

“Seems like our safest bet to me,” he says, and he’s back on his feet. “It’s better than standing still, at least. We should go.”

He tries to focus, to even shut out the voices of the others, but… nothing. All he can see is the monochromatic tones of the world around them.

“…I think the stairs are our best choice. At the very least, we can look for more items there,” He says, walking towards them. By no means is he going to be at the front of the group, but at the very least he will act confident in his decisions.

Even if he is unsure of every step he’s taking.

[TEXT] - please just call me back.

[TEXT] - i’m sorry.

[TEXT] - so this is my number, but don’t save my name as anything sketchy.

[TEXT] - i’m making dinner tonight, you should come over.

[TEXT] - WHERE ARE YOU????

[TEXT] - you’re LATE.

[TEXT] - can we talk? 

[TEXT] - how did it go?

[TEXT] - you’re gonna laugh, but can you pick me up at the police station?

[TEXT] - thinking about you…

[TEXT] - i miss you so much.

[TEXT] - i have an idea, probably gonna get us in trouble though.

[TEXT] - i know you’re awake! pick up the phone! 

[TEXT] - so you’re just gonna ignore me forever? 

[TEXT] - i’m at taco bell you want anything? 

[TEXT] - are you awake?

[TEXT] - i have good news and bad news.

[TEXT] - how are you? 

[TEXT] - new phone, who is this? 

[TEXT] - wanna come over? 

[TEXT] - what’s wrong with you?!

[TEXT] - you only call me when you’re drunk. 

[TEXT] - me, you, a bad movie. you in? 

[TEXT] - wanna bang? [TEXT] - hang* [TEXT] - whatever

[TEXT] - i’ll seduce you with cool scientific facts.

[TEXT] - are you still alive?

[TEXT] - we are sophisticated adults ok?  [TEXT] - last week i purchased a vegetable

[TEXT] - i will not hesitate to strangle you

[TEXT] - what are you doing this weekend? 

[TEXT] - can i come over? [TEXT] - because i’m in your driveway.

“‘’Course I’m worried about my gummies, every scrap of food’s important!” Ruggie’s brows furrow defiantly, a frown tugging at his lips. They were premium quality, too! The good stuff that all the rich kids got that had frost-apples and artisan sugar and it was supposed to keep him afloat since the teams were gonna share their rations, but now they don’t even have rations to share! This sucks! 

The sound of a wrapper crinkling immediately sends Ruggie scurrying to Trey’s side, eyes wide and transfixed upon the bar. He only spares one second to check his pockets.

“I only got my magipen, no mirror.” Ruggie says. His peels dart from the ice cream, to Trey, to the other students, then back down at the ice cream. “An’ I’m also kii~iinda hungry…” 

@threadedwheels / @vipetriol​ / @99lostsouls​​ / @troisfleur​​

“I lost my bag, so gummies would be preferable to nothing, really,” Jamil admits. He doesn’t have the mirror either, and with his supplies gone, every scrap of food does matter— doubly so with Ruggie around. He shoots an all-too-knowing glare at the beastman. “You? Hungry? Never would’ve guessed.”

On the bright side —if there’s one to be found— having Ortho in their group means one less mouth to feed, but Jamil refrains from voicing the thought out loud, lest Ortho find offence to it.

“As both our senior and Heartslabyul’s vice-housewarden, I believe we can entrust Trey to ration our resources,” or so Jamil says. His tone is perfectly cordial, if not borderline sycophantic, but it was Trey who crushed the miserable bar in the first place, so he should take responsibility.  

“At any rate, we should take a look around. There might be some more stuff we dropped.”  

No mirror, no phone, nothing in his pockets other than the lint that always finds its way in.

He tries to bite down the frantic tone in his voice.

"Yes. Let's look around- No eating anything until we know what we have. We'll... give it all to Trey, I suppose. Stay here, though. No sense in getting split up."

The focus of his searching wasn't on food, of course, but rather his mirror. His eyes land on it and he quickly reaches out to scoop it up, flipping it open with shaking hands, and...

"...the mirror isn't working."

He smacks it once, twice, but... nothing.

ember's ever-present confusion was understandable, to be honest. despite his small height and doe like eyes, ortho shroud wasn't a foe to be messed with.

considering the many incidents where he either threatened to explode the school or shoot someone within it, it's amazing he was still here to tell the story— but this wasn't about that!

this was about training.

though ortho hadn't been too active during the halloween season, his one visit to the altar was evidence enough. these ghosts wanted these students dead, plain and true and they needed to be prepared.

❝ I know this isn't something you're used to, an opponent like... myself, but considering I've been put on the defense team alongside you, I figured this would be the best way to prove myself useful. now, I've already set up somethings— ❞

just as he spoke, ortho would soon turn to point down to a small rock placed on a makeshift surface of gym uniforms. don't critique, he worked with what he had.

"Sounds good," He puts down his book, standing to stretch before he began sparring, "Though I should warn you, I can run rather fast."

His mouth moves faster than his brain can stop it, even though his brain was screaming to not further challenge Ortho.

At least there's enough time between now and the actual mission to heal up.

"...there is a first aid kit in my bag, by the way. Just in case I trip."

( a bulletin board fulfillment with @espritdediamant )

ISO - Heyyy, listen up! I’ve always wanted to learn the 101 on palm reading, but every year I’ve had a schedule conflict with the courses offered. Soooo, would someone be down to tutor at an intro level even though I’m not in the class? If it’s the vibe, we should meet up over coffee. Think of it as a built-in café study sesh of the basics for you, and I’ll sweeten the deal by buying your order ♪ !

The brightly colored request had caught Ember’s eye when he walked past the bulletin board. That was the point of it, he figured, but the words “palm reading” caught his interest even more.

Of course Ember had taken the palm reading courses offered by the University. It was a given that the future Oracle needed to understand multiple forms of divination- kypomancy (through tea leaves), pyromancy (through fire), dowsing… even myomancy (through rat behavior).

He took the request down, sending a message to whoever this “Cater Diamond” was to plan out the details of their study… ‘sesh’.

___

It was less by decision and more by habit that Ember arrived late. He made his way through the cafe, cane tapping against the floor with every other step to make his presence known so people would at least scoot their chair in for him to get by.

AS FAR AS TUTORS GO, Cater’s pretty sure he scored the jackpot on this one. 

For an idle curiosity, it’s gotta be an omen of good luck to get a top shelf divination student reaching out to you. Floating through the department means you always hear names, here and there, and even if Cater relegates himself to astrology and cosmic sciences, he knows what’s what: he’s heard the surname Parca a few times, enough to know his volunteer instructor knows his stuff.

Arriving first gives him the chance to stakeout a better place for their purposes. Usually Cater sits toward the front of this café for the people watching, but there’s a quieter ambience in the back and more room to spread out. The tools for palm reading kinda evade him, NGL, and he’s pretty sure you don’t need anything other than your hands—but better to prepare for the off-chance. A roomy table for two is claimed for them.

Positioned, obviously, so Cater can watch with time enough to yank off his headphones and stow them in his bag when the fabled tutor does arrive. While he gets settled, Cater’s side of the table is put to rights, belongings tucked aside.

“Heyyy—no problem! I’ve just been hangin’.” What are you supposed to do when, like, greeting a palm reading tutor for the first time? Shaking hands is kind of classic, but lowkey Cater’s been staring at his own hand since getting a text about the offer, and now he’s all like What if my palms are sooo weird and damning that a handshake feels way too forward. You know?

It wasn’t like he looked up where the cafe was, mentally blocked out his steps, and looked at the menu ahead of time.

He knew how to be normal about meeting other people.

“So, shall we get our coffees and then I’ll give you some introductory knowledge on palm reading?” He asks, still scripting out what he would even say about palm reading. To him, there wasn’t much to it. Every part of every persons body and life gave way to their fate... assuming the palm reader knew what they were doing. He brought a few diagrams he drew out from his courses, a few additional notes on the etiquette of palm reading his family had passed down through the generations... 

It’s always one thing after the other. Nothing ever goes as planned— and, quite frankly, expecting it to would reflect poorly on Jamil’s intelligence. That said, the absence of shock doesn’t equate to a lack of annoyance when things go awry. 

As his eyes adjust to the scenery, Jamil kneads his right shoulder, suppressing a groan. The rough landing had heightened the soreness brought upon preparing meal rations and first-aid kits (all of which, incidentally, are nowhere to be found now) until the dead of night.

Hoping the ache will let down eventually, he scans over the group he’s now saddled with, and releases a quiet exhale. 

It’s not as terrible as it could’ve been— These are people he can deal with. Probably.   

“Duly noted,” he tells Ortho. “Still, if anyone’s in need of—” 

He trails off when Trey gets up, face scrunching up in reflex at the sound.

KA-BAAMMMM! 

The air’s practically knocked out of Ruggie’s lungs as he crashes. He’s thrown by the impact, rolling at least a foot away until his back smack’s into a staircase bannister. “Heugh–!” 

Oh, that’s definitely going to leave a bruise. 

Ruggie peels his eyes open and is met with a metallic hand– Ortho’s? He declines the aid, choosing to flop onto his stomach before shakily rising to his knees. Ears perk up as more voices begin to speak, then they tense. Shit landing and different teammates? Oh, boy, this infiltration plan’s so botched now.  

Little hyena lets the others sort out their own safety as he pats down his pockets. His eyes widen. 

“—My gummies’re gone!!!” He cries out amidst the evaluations, then hears a crinkle. Ruggie’s attention snaps towards Trey, who has just begun to rise. His features crunch into an accusing sneer. “Oi.” 

Everything felt out of place. His joints, his head, fates- even his whole body. He laid on the ground for a few moments longer than anyone else, frankly hoping he somehow died in the process of falling through. He hears the others talk, vaguely listening as he takes mental note of all the new bruises he has forming.

“We just fell into the ghost dimension and you’re worried about gummies?” He groans, finally opening his eyes to see Ortho holding a hand out to him. He takes it, grateful for the help, and stands with a slight creaking sound.

“Rations I can understand, but gummies?”

He looks at the group of people he was grouped with- different to the one he was fully expecting.

And even if he had not understood it, Ember telling him straight up that they were trying to be private about it was enough for Epel to get the message that he should be discreet as well.

"...are you carving apples?"

Epel looked down at the apple in his hand, and the knife balanced on his lap. He picked the knife up again, the small nick it caused already done bleeding.

He had heard Jinx talk about Ember, but they had never formally met (until now, he supposed), and Jinx was pretty private about it (now he knew why), so he actually couldn't recall much about Ember. He had to be an okay guy though, right? Because he was Jinx's boyfriend, and Jinx wouldn't date a jerk. Would he? He suddenly felt a little protective over Jinx. Was this guy good for him?

"Yeah, I am." He nodded. "Do you, uh..." Did he carve apples? The answer was likely a 'no'. He pivoted to "...like apples?" Inwardly, he facepalmed. What were they, kindergarteners? He could think of a better question than that!

"Yes," He answered, watching the freshman carve into the apple, "I don't get many of them at home, too cold to grow. Though we would get them as gifts, occasionally."

It felt odd, standing and talking to Epel, but he did want to get to know him a bit more.

"Where are you from?"

Was that question invasive? He was a bit worried that if he came across as harsh to Epel, he would tell Atticus and Atticus would bring it up to him.