VAINGLORIOUS

oops sorry for applying and then having NO activity ! i got swamped with school but i am ready now, so here’s a quick starter call.

||  █ ▌— it was a nice day, at least. not that vil would be seeing too much of it, within the shopping mall as he was, but at least his walk home later would be pleasant. it was finally spring, which meant slightly fewer layers needed to be worn. what a relief.

Ramuda likes this guy. Quick, to the point, doesn’t dance around what he wants. Something deep inside of him recoils at the knowledge that even if Ramuda wanted to be that way, that is not how he is meant to be. He is not a creature whose purpose is to be direct – Ramuda does not get that luxury. He’s a sneaky thing, someone who appears one way but in fact is actually completely different.

He still can appreciate it in others, though. So he smiles, sort of strikes a pose himself, and snaps a few pictures.

“Hehe… so mature looking!” he exclaims. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s snooping through the other’s phone so he hands it back, his expression one of excitement. He wonders for a moment if this guy is used to this sort of idolization treatment and decides, yes – probably. Ramuda is not unfamiliar to it either, though notably he’s been recognized a lot less here than back home.

“You really must be a model, huh?”

||  █ ▌— vil was always to the point. the only way he knew how to get what he wanted was to take it by force, by whatever means he had available to him. direct methods, indirect methods, all were tools vil’s repertoire. just because poison was a subtle tool didn’t mean it was the only one vil had. just his favorite.

there was a benefit, he thought, to simply asking for what he wanted. all of this was to say he was pleased with the readiness with which ramuda took his picture for him. his pose was definitely one intended to invoke maturity, and he was glad it was commented on. grace and elegance were secondary goals, and a quick look through the pictures taken after his phone was returned to him confirmed that, yes, he’d achieved this with ease.

❝ thank you, ❞ he says, and oh, yes, of course vil is used to compliments, but that doesn’t mean they’re unappreciated, especially when they come from those who don’t already know his reputation. besides that, it pays to be gracious, to stay on the good sides of those around him.

Cater looks a little disappointed that Vil didn’t wait, but maybe he doesn’t want to play childish games. Instead he pouts, takes his own candy and pops it into his mouth as well.

“Ah,” he says, and grins. “This is definitely going to be good for picture taking, right?”

||  █ ▌— vil had never been one for games, of course. even this, fun though it might be, was a means to an end. he was going to love the pictures that came from this, and cater diamond, admittedly, was not awful company. vil sometimes even liked him.

            — RIDDLE OFT EXERTED GREAT FOCUS

    in a plethora of things. from exams, studying and the occasional sifting through urban dictionary to make heads && tails of whatever slang he had heard about the dorm …

    he, evidently, was not one for half-measures. such would be distasteful for he who embodied severity with every inch of his being. he stood, statuelike, eyes fixated upon skincare products piled atop of his arms. dry skin, oily skin, flaky skin —- what was his skin type on any note?

    the biting cold was not kind. the abrupt dip in temperature had caught him off-guard… nevertheless, the mage wholly intended to bounce back. skin; dry ( he assumed ) && thankfully not noticeable ( yet! ) due to this unforgiving climate. so he remained, in the markets by the cotes ward… with good company at that.

    ❝ sam would have already procured something perfect for dry skin without anyone having to go sifting through all these … brands. ❞ slowly, he set one down. six remained.  ❝ it’s not as if i’m clueless on the subject. i’ve just yet found the time to verse myself in… ❞

    riddle proceeded to clear his throat, reading directly from a label.  ❝ the ‘ best product for winter-chilled skin ‘.  ❞

    so, perhaps he wanted to eye what the pomefiore prefect himself would use. what of it? riddle didn’t exactly favour the idea of asking for help - that left a sour taste in his mouth. practical learning was to watch and analyse what the pros used.

@vilnity​

||  █ ▌— from what vil knew of riddle rosehearts, he was aware that the younger prefect was something of a perfectionist. much like vil himself, he seemed to want to do things correctly the first time... though not necessarily on his own. vil knew riddle would likely defer to his expertise if it was offered, but one couldn’t learn without at least an attempt on one’s own, after all.

not that he planned to let riddle struggle with this for too long. that wouldn’t serve any purpose other than to make riddle feel embarrassed, something vil was not trying to do.

❝ he would have, wouldn’t he? a shame sam isn’t here, as much as i enjoy the process of shopping, i do miss the convenience of the shop he ran... ❞ he said, trailing off as he watched riddle put aside another product. this was good, he’d narrowed it down quite a bit and was getting closer to the one vil would personally have selected for him.

dry skin was a common enough problem in the wintertime, and there were a number of moisturizers that would work well enough. enough was the operative word, though, of course.

❝ every product claims to be the best at what it does. that doesn’t necessarily mean it will work for you. ❞

Jester had never had many reservations about acting as an interruption in practically any given situation, nor about approaching a complete stranger.  It was those two very qualities that had led her to make most of the friends she had, and she was always quite open to making more!  But there was a pressing matter to attend to here besides potential friendship.  She listened emphatically to the other’s explanation, contemplating the dresses again before giving a nod of agreement.

“Yeah, you’re right!  It would look so good on me!”  Then a pensive look swept over her face, and she considered the garments once more.  “Hmmm…although it’s not really for me.  I mean it is for me but not for ME me.  I’m going to be dressing like my mom- she’s the beautiful amazing singing lady, not me, though I do think I’m pretty good- but she looks a little different from me.  Think it would work either way?”

||  █ ▌— vil nodded at that, charmed by the reverence she clearly had for her mother. it was reminiscent, in a way, of his own admiration for his father, and so familiar to him for that alone, and he couldn’t help but smile at the words. he contemplated the two dresses a bit more before finally deciding that, yes, his decision was the right one.

@vilnity​ // starter

Jade holds the small little basket in his hands. It woven through, and soft malleable material meant to hold maybe berries or fruit. It also functions well for holding this variety of mushrooms that he’s found not only in the Mistwood but through various sellers. 

He knocks on Vil’s door and does not care if someone else answers it. After a moment, the call is answered, and he smiles his soft little smile – still toothy and sharp – and extends the basket in a strange offering. “Good evening, Pomefiore dorm leader.”

||  █ ▌— he wonders, just for a moment, how jade leech managed to find him... but quickly pushed that aside. it wasn’t surprising, given what he knew of the eel-mer... and it wasn’t hard to find someone’s registered address in this city. what surprised him was that he was able to locate vil at all, given he was currently staying, rather unofficially, in rook’s condo, something that was not public knowledge.

 — WERE ANYONE TO TAKE PART OF ROOK,

it would not be physical . far too skilled of a deadeye was he to fall victim by the claws of a beast && far too capable of a vice to have himself disarmed of his magical pen ;

but metaphorically, surely. a rook in a game of chess served dutifully to its queen , castling to their side nearing the end of a match so to turn the tables as they say . Alas , rook would not be as kind to place his neck against the cool metal of a guillotine for just about anyone .

❝ and if someone so much as wishes for a part of me ,  ❞ there was weight to the someone , a non-theatrical emphasis … his voice , laced with a certain rigid feeling to it .  ❝ then i will allow them to sink their teeth into it. only if they’re capable of telling me what they truly want, however. rewards for a keen-eye are well deserved ~  ❞

 what exactly would vil want from him ? the beautiful queen asked so very much of her hunter in felling those she disliked , and rook had vowed once before to never fail by hesitating in the same ways his idol did once before . an oath , by textbooks &&in the aftermath of a mind-numbing classroom lecture did rook place a hand atop his heart and swear that solemn vow to never err on the edge of uncertainty with any command or request presented to him.

  his statement came as a silent invite as a challenge, perhaps . a request for vil to be concise in his requests , were he to read the subtext . to tell him if they were to leave this place immediately && what would become of them subsequently in the grand scheme of things ; would they announce a vice vice prefect ? was their return expected or was their absence celebrated ? whilst both well-loved by their dormitories older students, the younger first-years were not the most fond of being ‘shaped into perfection’ by the two of them.

did the people sing when the beautiful queen was killed , all that time before ? The hunter opted to fade into obscurity as his trembling hands dropped the blade against a princesses throat , the regent in which he devoted himself to did not favor the idea of being lost to time .

  ❝ of course, you have my apologies, roi de poison. you must’ve been so very content with the idea of me helping run pomefiore in your absence as you traversed such foreign ground… only to have me whisked away promptly after! ❞ and whilst rook did seek out vil && epel first and foremost after securing his own safety, it was still a disappointment he could not fill the heels of vil left before him.

  ❝ on any note, after you ! mind your step. we can come in and refresh ourselves on tea without the cyanide, hm ?  ❞

||  █ ▌— he was pleased with rook’s response to his own words. there was a degree of certainty in them that vil could not deny. a severity. he was glad to know rook took such things seriously. and of course, he already knew that. of course he did, but there was a certain weight to those words which bore down on vil with an unexpected pressure.

❝ oh really? still, how generous of you to even offer it to the hypothetical keen-eyed individual. ❞

that pressure was: a desire to sink those metaphorical teeth into his vice. he shook the feeling off, or did his best to, hoping none of the surprise showed on his face. for vil, who had always sought out vulnerability in others like a shark with blood in the water, the feeling of being off-balance was uncomfortably familiar. and he was not particularly fond of turning tables, after all.

❝ that’s not something you should offer at all, ❞ he said, rather than humor rook, and face his own off-balance feeling. with a shake of his head, he glanced away. it was a subtle gesture, but no-doubt rook would pick up on it. vil was comfortable showing this shred of vulnerability to him, though, accidental though it was. he never clamped down as hard on his own emotions around just rook, saw no need to.

not that he demonstrated them freely, of course. but a bit of unguarded, unregulated emotion was more than most ever saw. there was a genuine side to vil, beneath the makeup and perfect grooming. he was used to being picked apart, though, dissected, bits and pieces of him analyzed. rook was not the only one who did it, just the most fervent, dedicated, precise. vil never blinked twice when he was cut into pieces within another’s gaze. even the first time, he knew just what to do, how to stand as he was cut apart with scalpel-sharp eyes.

rook was different, though. took the whole in addition to all the parts and pieces. there was a safety in that.

“well, i’m certain.” he said confidently, after taking moment to scrutinize the man’s appearance again. tall, pale skin, blond hair, eyes the shade of amethyst - edgar had definitely seen the other around the house, brief as his glimpses have been. 

naturally, the next step in this situation would be to formally introduce himself; after all, they were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. it only made sense to try and get along. 

but edgar was never one to bother with false pleasantries and empty words - and having not forgotten the other’s previous words so easily, he was even less inclined to be civil.

he wasn’t certain edgar could do him justice? what an utterly laughable notion. 

“so? have you found the answer to your own question yet?” his eyes flickered briefly to his canvas, where his subject - a small patch of lilies growing on the pond - had yet to be defined. he was, if only slightly, curious to see what the other would guess, though he doubted the man would answer correctly. 

“or do you plan to just stand there and continue with your gawking?” 

||  █ ▌— vil was normally one for politeness, etiquette... but alas, this painter seemed to have the sort of personality which just naturally clashed with vil’s own. still, he wouldn’t be overtly rude--it just wasn’t in his nature. he would try to get along, at least on the surface. if they were to have to live together, he didn’t want to go out of his way to make the other’s life miserable.

or his own, for that matter.

❝ no, i’m not sure i have. to me it looks as though you’re painting the pond, but i feel there’s more to it than that. alas, i’m not a visual artist. ❞

even his photography was a means to an end, rather than an art-form. he was an actor above all else, loved the stage. he could appreciate the visual arts, but he would never claim to be an expert in them.

therefore, he was not bothered, that he couldn’t answer his own question. ❝ i wouldn’t have asked you, if i already knew, now, would i? ❞ 

Ramuda breaks out into large smile, his hands clasp around the phone as he hops a little on his toes. “Mhmm ~ you can say that!!” He does like it when other can see how coordinated he is, and how talented he is at putting together outfits. He knows that he looks adorable, he always has to as a fashion designer, and part of him is pleased that the other recognizes it.

He holds the camera up and angles it at the stranger. He’s definitely someone Ramuda wouldn’t mind having as a model, even if his style choice is clearly different from his own. “I’m actually Shibuya’s best fashion designer! If you’re ever in Tokyo, ask about me, and everyone will know who you mean.”

He vaguely hopes he never has to return to the world of Hypnosis Microphones and threatening governments, but he still likes to brag about what he’s accomplished there nonetheless. “Mmm, okay! Now… pose!”

||  █ ▌— the style that the other wore was very nice, complimented his appearance well. to hear he was a fashion designer is no surprise, he supposes. it’s therefore unsurprising to hear that he’s well-known for what he does. he hasn’t heard of shibuya, of course, but has been here long enough to have gathered that they all come from very different places, that their homes have different sorts of names.

being the best fashion designer in any one place is impressive enough, to vil and probably to nearly anyone else. that doesn’t show on his face, though. all he does is nod.

❝ i see. i’ve never been to tokyo, but i’ll take your word for it. ❞

and he does, he has no reason to doubt him, after all. regardless, there were more important things on his mind... such as the perfect pose. he finds a good stretch of wall to lean against, posing like only a practiced model can as he looks at the camera.

Badou full on laughs as he snaps the first picture.

“I’m always this terrible,” he confirms gleefully. “I was born with it and didn’t need anything fancy to add.” He gives a nod,

“You gonna do another pose or?” He hasn’t put the phone down, just in case.

||  █ ▌— vil doesn’t seem upset at the laughter. if anything, he’s a master of only hearing what he wants to anyway.

❝ i see, i see. so there’s no helping you, is what you’re trying to say. ❞

     “With you always comes commotion, doesn’t it? In a few months’ time it will, anyways. Your following hasn’t quite made it to this island in the same timely manner as we have but I’m sure your popularity will find a way around it.”

        @vilnity​ —–  liked for a starter.

Cater smiles and pulls the candy out of his pocket. “Not yet! I thought we should do it at the same time, huh? Because we can be a skeleton and a vampire at the same time. It doesn’t get better than that!”

He puts one in Vil’s hand before unwrapping his own. “Ready? On the count of three…”

||  █ ▌— vil smiles despite himself, amused. a skeleton and a vampire... yes, the living dead are certainly perfect costume choices. he’s impressed with cater’s outfit and its creative realism even before the candies have taken effect. impressed, but not too surprised.

             — ROOK STIFLED A CHUCKLE,

   it was humorous how vil tensed at the note of his dormitory falling out of place. whilst pomefiore was well-maintained, vil was akin to a superglue that strung it all together … truthfully, rook did indeed have faith that it would go well.

    after all, it was based upon diligence. to remain in-line despite the absence of a leader was diligent, wasn’t it? whilst their headmaster certainly faltered in some areas of leadership ( leaving that of overblots to a non-magic wielder being one … ), diamonds were made under pressure !

    he could list concerns he had. the place unravelling itself, the concerns that unseemly students may attempt to delve into the privacy of himself and vil by tinkering with locks and whatnot… but he was confident that they had been set into shape appropriately && respected their now missing leaders.

    all would be well. it was best to face the brighter side of things… but as per request, he would reassure.

    one hand on the broomstick && the other lightly placing itself upon vils, he gaze him a reassuring squeeze.

    ❝ all will be well ! ❞ he squeezed per every word, allowing his hand to sit a moment. whilst it was often that animals were calmed by the beat of a heart, such a thing was not achievable mid-flight. so contact would do.  ❝ you’re far too dedicated of a leader to have it so our dormitory crumples without you. other prefects could only so dream to walk on the same level as you.  ❞

   coming to a halt a few blocks away from the condo, rook slowly lowered them to the ground. he was glad to have made it, but a jog throughout the remainder of the track wasn’t an idea he opposed.  ❝ breathe, understood? as such …  ❞

   taking an exaggerated inhale, rook paused to hold it… and then… he exhaled loudly.  ❝ were it impossible for you to inhale, i would very much present you with the breath from my lungs, fufu~ so at least you’ll know a modicum of relief rests in me. ❞

    removing himself from the broom only after vil did, rook shook his legs to better-align himself with the feeling of ground beneath his feet.  ❝ oh, but, i’d gladly give you whatever part of me you desired without explanation.  ❞ and with that, he gestured for vil to follow.   ❝ i’ve yet to meet my neighbours, you know …  ❞

||  █ ▌— vil was ever concerned with the management of his dorm, and the thought of it falling apart, even just a little, without him there to take care of things was... an unwelcome one, of course. still, with nothing to do about it, he would do his best to turn his attention to other things.

he would simply have to do his best to not worry about it. easier said than done, of course, but oh... he would manage. he always did. if everything was in disarray upon his return, he would simply roll up his sleeves and set it right. that was the only thing to do, wasn’t it?

the reassurance in the way rook squeezed his hand was... somewhat comforting. it was what he’d asked for, and rather explicitly at that. at the same time, though it felt like something resembling pity. oh, damn rook and the size of his terrible, kind heart.

still, he did appreciate it.

❝ all will be well, ❞ he repeated, because that was something he could say with certainty. any potential setbacks would be swept aside upon his return, and he was confident in his ability to fix anything that might have broken in the meantime. rooks words were ever a comfort, and he was glad that rook was here with him, that this unfamiliar place was no longer something he had to face alone.

once they reached the ground again, vil moved off of the broom with a sigh, going through the breathing exercise as rook suggested even though he wasn’t entirely sure how effective such a thing was. vil was not anxiety-prone, or not in the conventional sense. still, it wouldn’t hurt. the deep breath was comforting, at the very least. he smiled ever so slightly. ❝ you say the strangest things, sometimes. at least you’re level-headed in a crisis. ❞ 

and it was true. for all rook’s eccentricities, he was unflappable, ever unbothered by anything that was thrown his way. vil was relieved to know him, as ever.

❝ i don’t need any part of you, you silly thing. don’t offer things like that so thoughtlessly, someone like me might actually take you up on it one day. ❞ he shook his head, ever-fond as he followed after his friend.

                —  ❝ ARE WE LOST ?  ❞ vil asked.

    yes and no, simultaneously.

    whilst rook had certainly gathered his bearings just a bit better, isola was an unknown playing field … && the both of them just so happened to be selected as players. perhaps as representatives for their world, accompanied by the sparse amount of other students rook had caught sight of (cater being just one).

    there posed the question… why them? they were both two fellows of impeccable talent and a certain confidence that titled them leaders, but… rook knew better that such deep thought was best reserved to the comfort of his own room.

   there was a comfort in a space reserved only to yourself, after all. four walls, in time, grew constrictive && overbearing - yes, his yearn to be free did often take him far away from that secure room in pomefiores dormitory. but privacy was a colour rook wore well, having long since tailored that room to his preferences.

    a lock too many, wallpaper that peeled off to reveal a plethora of photographs, hooks and the like for easy access on grabbing ahold of those binoculars to spend some afternoon spying. those in the room had been sparse, and never did they spend long.

    maybe that’s why rook thought better. from the adrenaline of a chase or the comforting silence of his own area. maybe, in time, he’d conjure something of an idea as to what this place truly was… but it’d take a fair amount of investigating && profile making on his behalf.

     ❝ aah, in terms of whatever plane we seem to be on? unfortunately, incredibly lost! but as for navigation… non, i’m quite alright.  ❞ he paused. a well-rehearsed break, for effect && weight. theatrical as he was, it also added more meaning to his words. that’s how rook saw it.  ❝ but, but, but! steady your worries. as long as you remain true to your heart, we are never lost. as they say, a heart is your guiding key~ ❞

    and while rook would say his scheme of spending more time with the prefect was a success, it was never so much of a plan as it was an expectation that vil would enjoy his company after who knows what of isolation. as unwavering as vils expressions were, rook did so pride himself on reading the mood at times… or was it just common sense?

   regardless, rook was firm in his belief that he was something fearsome at reading the subtext to vils words. as was the hunter with the beautiful queen, as would be whatever next vice prefect to take his place upon graduation.  ❝ ah, ❞

   … who was leading pomefiore?! clearing his throat, he spoke calmly.  ❝ ecstatic, mon ami. your words make my soul sing with joy. we really must be starcrossed companions to come together once more…~  ❞ alright. ease him in with a compliment, and now…

    ❝ now, if i may.  ❞ the vice prefect took to a corner. it was only a matter of time before they arrived, given the pace he was going at.  ❝ in matters of leading pomefiore… i do my duties, as do you. but, in the instance one of us is unavailable, the other ‘picks up the slack’, hm? …i don’t exactly think we’ve prepared a vice-vice prefect.  ❞

||  █ ▌— the unspoken question of why they, in particular, were selected was a worthwhile one, one vil himself had pondered... to relatively no avail. they were simply students. talented students, certainly, but in the grand scheme of things, nothing so far out of the ordinary as to be selected by any sort of deliberate process. which begged the question: was it random? if so, what were the odds of both of them being here?

it was, therefore, probably not random.

the theory of world-jumping was not entirely foreign to vil ( everyone at night raven college had heard at least a rumor or two of the ramshackle prefect, who their headmaster was allegedly trying to send back to their own world... ) but the situation still made his head spin at times.

oh well.

so they were lost. so it goes.

❝ so long as you get us to our immediate destination, i couldn’t care whether we’re lost in the grand scheme of things. ❞

when vil was very, very young, his father had read him fairy tales. the old ones, classic things, where the point is lessons. take away the metaphors, chop the wolf open with your axe and peel back its skin and muscle from its bones and you will find warnings there, rather than marrow. lessons.

one of those lessons is: getting lost. lost in castles, lost in forests, lost for three days and three nights... getting lost enough to try and find a story in. or something like that.

anyway, rook’s compliment works like a charm. like an arrow hitting its mark, or somesuch nonsense. ❝ we... have not prepared anyone else, no. as far as the other third-years go, i can think of a few likely potential candidates who might be capable enough, but they’ve not been given orders to do anything... ❞ oh, this could very well turn into a disaster. he tries not to let it worry him ( it’s not as though he can do anything about it from here, after all ) but... it’s difficult.

Beautiful enough to do well anywhere….Badou could vom at that comment. So, unimpressed and rolling his eye practically into the back of his head, he nods.

“Fine. On the count of 3, say ‘Beauty won’t help tax evasion’. Ready? 1…”

Like the pro he is, Badou holds the phone upright to get as much of his outfit as he possibly can, hand steady, arms spaghetti.

||  █ ▌— this guy doesn’t look impressed, but vil can’t bring himself to care. what matters are the pictures, and how well his outfit is coordinated.

he can care about other things, such as the opinions of individual people, once he has something resembling a career again.

“I haven’t seen him,” Silver says to the upperclassman’s question. He hasn’t, and he does  hope that he might bump into Malleus soon. Lilia would also be a pleasant surprise, he’s not picky – anyone he’s friends with would help ease him into being here. Wherever ‘here’ is.

“I’m surprised you remember me. I was the stuntman for one of your films, I tried to act but I don’t think I was up to the challenge.”

||  █ ▌— that was all right, vil was more curious than anything, hadn’t necessarily expected malleus to be about. it was probably more disappointing for silver than anything.

❝ a shame. oh well. ❞