glossy and sweet

    FLINT IS SET ATOP TINDER & minds the assortment of sticks perched against one another ( it was ill-advised to burn the wood directly ! ) — such was a trick rook utilised in his own travels . in his spare hand rests a mere piece of steel , carved & branded , expensive in appearance … whilst not exactly one for lifes expenses (bar the dormitory requirements & niche idol-related interests ), rook knew wiser than to skip quality in matters of survival.

    abruptly , he strikes his hand forth , a series of sparks & flame erupting thereafter . cloth , hemp rope , cotton balls and whatnot dare not combust yet they do spark with smoke if only for a moment. such was purposeful . the huntsman desired one thing come this evening , and it would be to see how his underclassman faired in matters of the wild. it’d be unwise to do it for him.

    ❛❛ do you see, monsieur crabapple ? how i press down with my hand and then forward … movement and strength will transfer into how much fire comes about based on how the steel clashes against the flint ,  ❜❜ & with his words, rook awaits the tinder to cool itself … before setting it all into epel’s hands. rook gives him an encouraging , albeit not forceful , look. after all, this was quite the occasion.  ❛❛ once we have prepared our source of heat , then we can begin to eat our rations !they are hardly anything as truly wonderful as the cuisine we dine on in pomefiore, however, i admittedly have a fondness for rehydrated meals. we are to use plastic cutlery, merely a fork, spoon and knife.  ❜❜

    to his side rests a few packets  — ready made meatballs and spaghetti, minestrone soup, chicken parmigiana…  ❛❛ unless you desire to catch something !   ❜❜

    sitting backwards , his camouflage meets a wooden log to lean against. the wild … was nothing akin to the glamour of their dormitory … and yet, rook found it beautiful all the same.  ❛❛ but establishing a source of heat will be our most important task. please, let me know if you find any difficulties.  ❜❜

@verfauit​

“right...!” with a determined glint in his eyes, epel brings the flint to the grass and strikes it the way it’d been demonstrated to him… only for nothing to happen. He does it again, and then again when it doesn’t work – but still the kindling remains unlit, mocking him with its unresponsiveness.

mumbling under his breath, he sneaks a glance at rook, contemplating if he should ask for help – but he quickly rejects the idea. it’s too early to give up! so he continues to put flint to kindling, and even manages to produce sparks for a couple attempts, which is promising, but ultimately, he finds little success in getting a fire going.

frustrated at the lack of progress, he mutters darkly in his own dialect, words he knows (hopes) the other doesn’t understand as he strikes the flint with extra force, an outlet for his irritation as he prepares to add another to his mental tally of failures/

however, instead of the sight of another disappointing failure, the kindling sparks, and then actually catches - blinking first in disbelief, and then in awe, he stands from his seat and turns to the third year, all traces of his earlier anger wiped clean as he beams, gesturing to the fire excitedly.

“rook! look, i did it!” he reaches a hand over to feel its heat, basking in his hard-fought success. “with this, we can finally cook…!”

and on that topic, he pauses, thinking over their options – even though his hometown is surrounded by lush forests filled with creatures, epel’s not all that familiar with hunting; the image of hurt rabbits, squirrels or other small woodland creatures acted as a strong deterrent to the activity, and his lack of experience would probably slow down the process now – at the same time, it would probably be a useful skill to have, just in case…

at that moment, his stomach chooses to let out a loud grumble, his last meal having been hours ago – and a little mortified, he sits back down, reaching for one of the packets rook’s provided.

♣ – liked for a starter 

@verfauit​

In his years as a student of Night Raven College, Trey had figured out a few things. First and foremost, absolutely no one here was sane. And second, they were all the more interesting for it. The more he learned about Pomfiore and the members it housed, the more Trey thought that they didn’t really fit the soft image of elegance and grace. Rather, there was that sharp edge of danger toted by the Fair Queen. Stereotyping could only do so much, and he was pleasantly surprised that the dorm was possibly as eccentric as his own. Not that the students there weren’t the most outwardly put together, no- it was more in the way that he was certain that each was mad in their own way. 

Epel, who Cater had thought was the cutest freshman of his year, had turned out to remind him more of Deuce. Surprisingly hot headed and quick to violence; he would have hated to be the one to tear the two of them apart if they ever got in a fight. But his question wasn’t about this or that. Instead, it hinged on a rather unhinged mutual of theirs. 

“So, in the year I’ve known Rook the only things he’s told me were absolutely necessary. Have you had any more luck than I have, or do you think he just hates me?” It was a joke, but he couldn’t help but feel curious. Was Rook more open with his dorm mates? It made sense in its own way. 

it’s one thing to be approached by a fellow first year, or an older dorm mate, and another to be approached by an upperclassman from a different dorm entirely – especially when it’s one he hasn’t interacted with much before. still, epel listens, wondering if the third year might need his help with something –

only to have his face twist in confusion when he hears the other’s words – did trey really just… ask him about rook?

“no, i don’t think rook is able to hate anyone.” it’s honest and immediate, the thought of rook disliking a person too strange – too wrong – to entertain, even as a joke. “but… he’s pretty much the same to me, i think? he doesn’t really reveal a lot about himself.”

it’s not a lie, but not entirely the truth either; even now, a lot about rook remains a mystery to the first year, but epel’s had the opportunity to learn about some things that probably wouldn’t be considered common knowledge – though revealing them now would feel… wrong. better to let rook tell them himself, if it’s something he doesn’t mind people knowing.

where he’s from, epel’s seen his share of magical creatures, so he isn’t fazed by the small, strange-looking being – just curious. and although he does his best not to stare, because it’s impolite (as a certain very familiar voice in his head reminds him), he can’t help sneaking another glance at the creature.

unexpectedly, their eyes meet, and epel has to fight the instinctive urge to jerk his head away and pretend he wasn’t looking, since that only makes it more obvious - so the only other option is to play it off.

“sorry… it’s been a while since i’ve been in the city. do you know how i could get to... cotes from here?” 

💎: jade’s the type of person you really can’t let your guard down around…

💎: he’s actually pretty nice…! still wouldn’t want to get on his bad side, though.

the smell of freshly baked goods is what draws him inside, reminding him of days his family uses up the excess apples of their farm; and somehow, even though he hadn’t planned on stopping by the bakery, by the time he leaves he has a loaf of bread tucked under one arm and a small (complimentary, because apparently “he’d enjoy it”??) pastry bag in the other hand.

once he’s outside, he heads in the direction of home – but then does a doubletake, recognizing the figure stood outside the bakery, seemingly staring at its storefront display. for a moment, he wonders if he should greet the other – he’s not really all that familiar with the heartslabyul prefect, after all, but it’d be rude to just… walk away, right? it’s not like they’re complete strangers.

“um… hello.” he calls out, shooting the second year a small smile. “are you thinking of going inside? they’ve got some pretty good stuff, if you like that sort of thing… i think.”

     ah … . it seems … . he has found a 4 in 1 shampoo bottle hanging about in by the trashcans of a place it really shouldn’t be in … .

“…and that’s why we lost…” he sighs, recalling how disheartening it’d been to lose in something he’d given his all into. slumping (just slightly) in his seat, he picks at the food on his plate, crestfallen, before promptly shaking himself out of his recollection.

making sure none of it was at risk of falling from the fork (rook may be more lenient, but epel doubts the third year will stay silent about stray crumbs), he brings the apple pie to his mouth and takes a small, tentative bite – he’s worried it’ll be too sweet, tasting more of sugar than apple.

but he shouldn’t have worried - eyes lighting up in surprised delight, the next bite he takes is much more certain, savouring the balanced sweet and tart taste of a fresh apple.

“th-” caught up in the moment, he almost speaks while he’s still eating, but thankfully catches himself before it’s too late. once he’s properly done with his mouthful, he tries again. “this is really good…!”

“um...”

he feels kind of silly, trying to do a pose but not quite getting it right - and he knows it can’t be right, because it looks nothing like jamil’s. obviously, he doesn’t expect to be perfect the first time around, but his body feels so awkward, limbs extended incorrectly and bent at the wrong angles. 

expression unsure, he eyes his upperclassman again. “could you do it again - maybe even a little slower, this time?” 

it’s a bit of an embarrassing request, since jamil had demonstrated the move at what was probably already a beginner-friendly pace - but epel’s not going to let a little embarrassment stop him! he’s determined to at least learn and be able to pull off a short sequence, because it looks so cool!!

“i’m not getting how you do that thing with the shoulders when your head is doing... that. i think...?” 

“…kind of?”

“I mean, I missed everyone and it was kind of weird not having set classes to attend but…you just have to force yourself to adjust in a way. I think I’m lucky enough in not having used magic for much anyways since I’m not as trained as everyone else.” Deuce paused, and laughed a little. Actually, part of it was a little ridiculous.

“What gives though, huh? As soon as I get my Unique Magic I lost almost everything! Talk about timing…”

“that is pretty unlucky, huh?” he laughs, shaking his head slightly. “but at least you’ll be able to ask for it back after while.” 

“and when you do, you gotta show it to me again! it’s such a cool ability...!” that time on the beach left a deep impression for multiple reasons, and deuce acquiring his unique magic had been one of them; it’d been so sudden, after all - and it really came in clutch. 

@verfauit || starter call

—✕ █ ▌The Underside certainly isn’t the sort of location one would consider for a vacation, not when the rest of Cotes Fantasti is, well, FANTASTIC. But, he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about the nooks and crannies that lie within the city’s underbelly. It would not be the first time that he’s found himself in such a situation, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Loghain has always been the sort to push boundaries and take on work that many wouldn’t have the COURAGE to do so. He’s survived on that very same logic.

Nevertheless, he’s simply CONTENT to watch the movements of people walking by and casually eavesdrop on conversations. There’s not much foot traffic - what with him sitting in the fringes of the market’s seedy underbelly - but enough for the old warrior to still find himself picking up things from time to time. After those keen ears of his prick in response to what could only be fearful whispers, he picks out the individual, superstitious voices.

❝A Grim Reaper, hm? Interesting … I wonder just how true these rumours may be. You believe there’s a possibility of it being real?❞ In all honesty, he’s WONDERING if it would be a good idea to turn s blind eye to a teenager being about these parts of town. But, he’s smart enough not to mouth off immediately, not when he’s probably done worse things at such a young age.

maybe - just maybe - he’s bitten off a bit more than he can chew this time, the boy thinks, eyeing his surroundings with a healthy dose of caution and vigilance.

epel knows he shouldn’t be here, but it’s the type of place he’d never be able to visit back home, and he was only going to take a small peek, really - he didn’t think he’d end up getting lost!

on the bright side, at least he hasn’t been accosted by anyone yet; normally, he isn’t one to shy away from a fight, but these people are way more trouble than wannabe punks and schoolyard bullies - he knows he needs to avoid interacting with them at all cost. 

which he why he jumps when he’s suddenly addressed by the rugged-looking man. his eyes dart across the man’s armor, lingering on the weapons the other carries with slight trepidation. 

wondering if his luck had just run out, it takes the the first year student a moment to register the stranger’s words - but when he does, confusion sets in. 

“a... a grim reaper?”