Cronus Ampora

The one and only.

[seer-of-nothing-blog]

==> Terezi drop all of you books

[greaseandmagic]

Like any self proclaimed ‘nice guy’, Cronus was only too happy to help a dame in need (as long as he got something out of it, too), and this girl looked like she needed a handsome set of hands. He was momentarily shocked to hear Spanish, but quickly converted his earlier thought over from English. How could the heir to a multi-million dollar company survive a day without knowing practically every language still used today?

"Lo que sea por una señora bonita." He collected up her books in one arm before setting a hand under her arm to help her up, quick and efficiently.

[seer-of-nothing-blog]

Terezi bit back a laugh at what the he said. She refused to think that she actually looked decent, but that could be due to the fact that she couldn’t see what she looked like. She quickly got up, letting go of Pyral’s harness to brush off her pants. 

"Thank you, my guide dog here didn’t catch the bump in the sidewalk. Blind people and bumps don’t normally combine well." Terezi stated with a grin on her face as she grabbed Pyral’s harness once more.

[greaseandmagic]

She was blind. Oh. Cronus was filled to the brim with a nagging sense of scientific curiosity, not what one would expect from the douche-y greaser.   

"Can I walk you to class, so y' don't trip like that again? Couldn't forgive myself if you ended up hurtin' yourself."

His usual flirtatious tendencies shone through even now, as he gave a grin he soon remembered she couldn't see. The sentiment was there, at least.

[greaseandmagic]

All he saw was a flurry of black hair and anger before he was pushed back into his room. For a moment he stumbles, quickly regaining his footing. Porrim comes into his dorm, yelling at him in his native language? I don’t think so. He gains back his ground with one step, his frustration feeding into his anger.

"Ifreann , ní raibh mé ag smaoineamh gur mhaith liom a fheiceáil riamh tú arís tar éis d’fhág mé Éire . Ní raibh tú glaoch , téacs , fear , ní raibh fiú Facebook dom! Conas a bhí ceaptha agam a fhios agat a rabhadh duit faoi do beag crush spidery ? Níl mé psychic !"

With a sigh, he stepped back. He was ultimately too tired to yell any more than he had already.

"Now, will you calm down and get inside before someone files a noise complaint? I’m too bogged down with homework to deal with the cops."

[balefulpolyglot]

Porrim grit her teeth, taking a deep breath, and followed him into his dorm. She took another deep breath, then a third for good measure, before sighing and leaning against the wall.

"Spidery EX, thank you very much. And I’ll thank you to keep it to yourself that I’m still this stupid for her, okay? Actually…I think the break-up was right around when you were leaving which…would pretty handily explain why I didn’t contact you for a while. I guess that’s my fault, I’m sorry Cro…"

She sighed again, as if remembering herself as she ran her fingers through her hair looking harried and, for a Maryam anyway, apologetic, “How’ve you been back stateside anyway?”

[greaseandmagic]

Figuring she needed it, he grabbed his last beer and a soda for himself before settling down on the couch.

"Sit down, you're making me nervous jus' standing there like a fucking wallflower."

As she sat, he handed her the beer and popped the tab on his drink. This was familiar, somehow, even though they had both changed so much with their time apart, leaving him content to sit in silence for a minute just to take it in.

"S' history, Porrim, don't gotta worry about it. 'Least you're not yelling at me anymore. Things have been better, I guess, but I guess that means we're in the same boat. And, uh, sorry 'bout you 'an Aranea, though I guess that's long overdue."

[greaseandmagic]

He had no interest in humoring him longer than absolutely nessisary, nor braving the eternal threat of Latula pulling a kick-flip right into his noggin, so Cronus quickly removed his hand from Mituna as soon as he had steered him in the right direction.

"This way is quicker, soon as I get you back I’m going ‘ta sleep. And for the record, I haven’t got laid since I got here and it’s screwing with me, man.

…

Remember sixth grade when I locked you in a vacant locker and you fell asleep until Porrim saw your hair sticking out of the slots? That fall was sweet as hell, too.”

[aeriformtheorist-blog]

Mituna would be confused as hell if Latula rocked up and whacked Cronus for touching him, seeing as he’d have no idea who she was. The red head hummed as he let Cro lead him along. “Maybe if you try going somewhere people have had drinks the goggles will help? Like they won’t getta look at your face proper.”  He stuck his tongue out at Cronus, giggling again. 

The locker incident made him pout. “No! I don’t remember—” The pause only lasted about twenty seconds this time. “—That! It didn’t happen. I’da kicked your ath in sixth grade!” Honestly, even if it had, some of his memories were a bit shot since the Incident. 

"I’m sorry I woke you." His voice softened on that line, he genuinely meant it. 

[greaseandmagic]

His face lit with indignation as he stuttered.

"I-I don't need your help to hook up with someone, fuck you! I'm about as attractive as they come!"

He huffed, the deep red blush covering his freckles as he practically stomped down the hall. Cronus barely even registered his protests in his fury, but an apology? That struck a chord.

"Oh. Uh- Sure, no problem. Lucky it was me an' not some weirdo."

[greaseandmagic]

He sighed loudly, letting his anger fall away and forgoing any thoughts that he would be able to go back to sleep. This would surely be a long, drawn out conversation.

"Mituna, we’ve talked about this. Your room is all the way over there, I even painted over the room numbers for you. Took a whole lot of pulling strings, too. Yours is yellow, mine is purple, but apparently that’s too fucking difficult for you to understand for the upteenth time."

Cronus stepped out of the doorway and locked the door, setting his hand behind Mituna’s back to shepherd him down the hallway.

"C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your dorm, I’ll feel bad if you get lost n’ fall asleep in some far-off spot on campus again."

[aeriformtheorist-blog]

Mituna just watched Cronus for a moment, before a little pout appeared on his face. “Yeah! I knewed that! I just got turned around.” He glanced around as the other stepped out of the dorm room, suddenly just a touch embarrassed because he honestly had no idea which way it was. 

Fortunately, his hair hid the blush, but fingers sliding into his own curls and pulling on them betrayed his irritation with himself. He gathered up his things though, before taking a few quick steps in the direction he was being led. “Are you sure it’s this way? It…” One of his long pauses in speech followed. “Isn’t normally this way is it?” 

A soft, indignant noise came from the Captor at the accusation he ever fell asleep anywhere but his dorm room. “I think I can manage not to sleep in the outdoors, Cro. Jus’ because you’d sleep with a squirrel doesn’t mean we’re all that desperate.” Mituna finished up with an irritating, nasally giggle that was kind of a signature. 

[greaseandmagic]

He had no interest in humoring him longer than absolutely nessisary, nor braving the eternal threat of Latula pulling a kick-flip right into his noggin, so Cronus quickly removed his hand from Mituna as soon as he had steered him in the right direction.

"This way is quicker, soon as I get you back I'm going 'ta sleep. And for the record, I haven't got laid since I got here and it's screwing with me, man.

...

Remember sixth grade when I locked you in a vacant locker and you fell asleep until Porrim saw your hair sticking out of the slots? That fall was sweet as hell, too."

[greaseandmagic]

With a heavy sigh, he let the backpack fall from his shoulders and drop down on the bed. As if it wasn’t bad enough that his luggage hadn’t arrived yet, his step-father would drive all the way to campus if he didn’t call to say his flight arrived safely. These people obviously didn’t yet know what an influential family he came from.  He would have to chew out the administration, later. For now, he could fall into a blissful, undisturbed sleep after traveling back.

Apparently the universe decided this wasn’t to be.

Just as he began to doze off, knocking filtered through his frankly unflattering dreams and woke the sleeping greaser. Someone was going to pay for this, he even had the courtesy to put a sock on the door! If people thought he was doing something other than sleeping in there because of it, well, let’s say he wouldn’t exactly mind. He quickly threw a hand through his hair, foregoing putting on contacts yet again by slipping on his glasses and threw the doo'r open to give whoever dared disturb his rest a piece of his mind.

[aeriformtheorist-blog]

It wasn’t exactly knocking that disturbed Cronus, but it probably sure as hell sounded like it. It was a rather confused Mituna bumping against the door as he rummaged through his bag for his room key, elbows hitting the wooden door. He was grumbling quietly to himself, wondering where the fuck the stupid thing had gone. Of course, he had no idea he had the wrong room. It was the wrong floor or wing, but he had long since stopped tracking room numbers and just usually followed his feet the same number of steps to his room. Today, he’d gotten a bit turned around. 

The key revealed itself at the bottom of the bag and with a triumphant squeak, he stood up, aiming it for the keyhole and then staring into Cronus’ face as the door opened. Under his hair, his brow furrowed deeply, confused as to why there would be anyone in his room - he was one of the few students with the benefit of a single room, between his disability and his epilepsy, he had a room specially designed for students who needed a bit more help. “Uh…” That was about as eloquent as he was getting right now. 

[greaseandmagic]

He sighed loudly, letting his anger fall away and forgoing any thoughts that he would be able to go back to sleep. This would surely be a long, drawn out conversation.

"Mituna, we've talked about this. Your room is all the way over there, I even painted over the room numbers for you. Took a whole lot of pulling strings, too. Yours is yellow, mine is purple, but apparently that's too fucking difficult for you to understand for the upteenth time."

Cronus stepped out of the doorway and locked the door, setting his hand behind Mituna's back to shepherd him down the hallway.

"C'mon, I'll walk you back to your dorm, I'll feel bad if you get lost n' fall asleep in some far-off spot on campus again."

[greaseandmagic]

The long awaited answer to the question is that it isn’t at all. Ravens could fly away from it all, while Cronus seemed trapped to his desk for the foreseeable future. Poetry was an extension of song writing, something Cronus did impeccably well, but this Creative Writing...

[greaseandmagic]

All he saw was a flurry of black hair and anger before he was pushed back into his room. For a moment he stumbles, quickly regaining his footing. Porrim comes into his dorm, yelling at him in his native language? I don't think so. He gains back his ground with one step, his frustration feeding into his anger.

"Ifreann , ní raibh mé ag smaoineamh gur mhaith liom a fheiceáil riamh tú arís tar éis d'fhág mé Éire . Ní raibh tú glaoch , téacs , fear , ní raibh fiú Facebook dom! Conas a bhí ceaptha agam a fhios agat a rabhadh duit faoi do beag crush spidery ? Níl mé psychic !"

With a sigh, he stepped back. He was ultimately too tired to yell any more than he had already.

"Now, will you calm down and get inside before someone files a noise complaint? I'm too bogged down with homework to deal with the cops."

[mutemotherfucker]

I Ain't Gonna Hurt Ya.

[greaseandmagic]

What Kurloz had yet to realise was that beneath his selfish, desperate exterior lay a bubbling core of pure, unrealised anger that threatened to burst through with every word he spoke. Though one could play him like a fiddle for a while, he was like a ticking time bomb. Cronus was no one’s pawn.

But for the moment, Cronus was simply delighted. He had looked up in time to see his brief nod and gave himself a mental pat on the back for being such a smooth operator. Though his excitement quickly turned to confusion when he pulled out his phone, trying to subtly rock up on his heels to see what he was typing, this dude was ridiculously fucking tall. If this guy was gonna text the whole time, he was buying his own damn drinks.

[mutemotherfucker]

Though, that is what the Prince of Rage is destined to care for, right? He destroys the rage. But, hey, maybe he wants to see Cronus’ head burst from anger as the dude throws some sort of temper tantrum later on. No problem.

He’d even pay money to see that, to be honest.

The Makara finished typing and handed his cell phone over to the other, NOTES application open with his answer displayed on the slightly dimmed screen. He’s used to darkness, and the brightness that the phone can reach practically burns his eyes.

-‘TIS ONLY THE RIGHT THING TO DO. I’D PANIC JUST THE SAME AS THEE IF I HAD LOST MINE, AS WELL. THOUGH THERE IS NO NEED TO REPAY A BROTHER, I’D BE DELIGHTED TO JOIN THEE FOR A DRINK OR TWO. COULD DEFINITELY USE ONE.-

[greaseandmagic]

Cronus, on the other hand, could not see for entirely different reasons. His contacts were on the brink of needing to updated and everything was a blurred mess. He squinted at his phone, bringing it as close to his face as possible without looking like he needed to.

Oh great, this guy talked- or typed- as if he had stepped out of a Renaissance fair. Thank god he was hot, or he would have pulled an excuse and dashed as soon as he could. The guy was fucking creepy anyways.

"Wait, are you mute? Cause I, uh..." He quickly switched to ASL, hoping he was right in his assumption. <MY ASL IS RUSTY, BUT I FIGURE IT'S LESS CLUMSY THAN TYPING EVERYTHING OUT.> Very seldom did his step father bring over a business partner that required ASL, but he could recall enough to make conversation a tad easier. <MY FRIENDS ARE WAITING, YOU READY TO LEAVE?>

[greaseandmagic]

There was one battle won, but Karkat seemed more like a ‘Thirty Year’ War’ kinda guy. It would take some diligence for Cronus to actually get some leverage on him. Cronus barely held back a grin, swinging his legs under his desk like an overeager child. He made a point of making this classes’ notes precise and clean, with penmanship that rivaled the greatest. Of course, years of being groomed to inherit a multi-million dollar did that to you.

As soon as class was over he lead the way with a swagger in his step, knowing his pals would soon hear the gossip that Cro had snatched himself a babe. The ACTUAL rumor would be that he had dragged some unwilling fresh off the boat sap into his clutches, but for the moment, he was ignorant to that. With a flourish, he unlocked his door.

"S’ not much, but make yourself at home."

What a show-off. ‘Not much’ consisted of a Michelin-grade kitchen, modern living room that looked fresh of the factory floor and other miscellaneous things that definitely didn’t come with the room. Cronus swept off to his room to print off a fresh copy of his notes, leaving Karkat to fend for himself in the luxurious dorm.

[karkat-vantas-skaiau-deactivate]

Throughout the rest of the class, Karkat took notes and second-guessed his decision. Was it really smart to agree to go to Cronus’s dorm? Yeah, he didn’t need any more people hating him, Kankri was as bad as ten people by himself, but the greaser next to him hadn’t given the Latino even a modicum of a warm feeling. He didn’t like being hit on by people he knew, much less by people he’d just met and as their fucking greeting. Cronus was right in that it’d take quite a bit of doing to gain Karkat’s trust, but that was largely due to how he’d said hello to the dark-haired freshman.

Ultimately, whether he was emotionally prepared for it or not, class ended. Karkat and Cronus got up, the latter leading the former to his dorm. Whereas Cronus seemed to walk with a spring in his step, Karkat kind of dragged his feet. In and out, he told himself, he was going to go in, get the notes, and get out as quickly as possible.Stay near the door or at least make sure there weren’t any obstacles between him and it, don’t encourage lengthy conversation, just be as quick and efficient as poss—

Holy shit.

Red-tinged eyes widened as Cronus led Karkat into the dorm. It might as well have been the luxury suite of a hotel, as far as Karkat was concerned. It definitely didn’t fit in with the rest of the dorms, which left Karkat wondering just how Cronus had managed something this ritzy. However he’d done it, though, Karkat felt extremely out of place. Now he had two reasons to stick near the door.

"Like hell it’s not much," he answered in a tone of agitated disbelief. "How the fuck did you get this? Does Daddy own the school or something? 

[greaseandmagic]

He was a bit suprised at Karkat's reaction, he knew his room was a sight to behold, but usually people had a more pleased reaction to his stuff. His anger spun Cronus for a loop, quickly darting back to his printer to compose himself. Through the small gap between the two rooms he continued to speak, thanking the walls for hiding his less than charming expression.

"Psh, nah, Meehna's mom does. My step dad n' her are all chummy though, so I ended up with one of the bigger pads in the original college area. The rest of the dorms are add-ons, so they're smaller than this."

He soon reappeared, brandishing a thick binder full with notes. Cronus had regained his usual airs, strutting over to the fridge to bring Karkat a can of pop, and one for himself as well. Despite what he might think, he was not a drinker. He despised the stuff, but would often get dragged into buying his 'friends' a nice bottle of Dom Pérignon to go around.

[greaseandmagic]

Why is the raven like writing desk?

The long awaited answer to the question is that it isn't at all. Ravens could fly away from it all, while Cronus seemed trapped to his desk for the foreseeable future. Poetry was an extension of song writing, something Cronus did impeccably well, but this Creative Writing project seemed like it had no reasonable answer. It had been over an hour and he had wasted whole forest's worth of paper trying to make some combination of these words flow like his music.

It was exactly when he finally had his big epiphany that he heard his doorbell ring. Cronus groaned loudly, he didn't even realize he did have a doorbell. This was wonderful, just wonderful, the beautiful sonata of words he had finally conjured had disappeared. He stomped towards the door, flinging it open with all the fury of a banshee.

"What the ever lovin' hell do you need at this fuckin' hour .Better be amazing, or you have all of three seconds to run."

[greaseandmagic]

He sticks his hands up in the air defensively, his bottom lip puffing out pathetically. “Hey, I’m totally okay with just handing you my notes. But see, I’ve got a printer back at my place, I can print you off a copy and be done with it. Don’t gotta act like I’m some kinda deviant.”

[karkat-vantas-skaiau-deactivate]

Karkat gave Cronus a look of suspicion, furrowing his brow a little. Printer back at his place, huh? Sounded like a can of worms just waiting to be opened. First it’d be come to my place and I’ll print you these notes, then it’d be hey do you wanna watch a movie or something, and he didn’t want to think about what could potentially happen after that. Maybe he was being paranoid, but Cronus hadn’t exactly given a wonderful first impression. He had hit on Karkat the moment he caught sight of him.

Here was a big question, though: Did he really want to potentially make another enemy? He was already on thin ice with Kankri, and continuing to be distrustful of Cronus might make the man angry. Cronus hadn’t done anything unpleasant aside from hitting on him, so…

After a bit of thought, Karkat let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, we can go to your place after class and you can print a copy of your notes for me. But right now, I wanna listen to the professor, so if we could hold further conversation until after class, I’d appreciate it.”

[greaseandmagic]

There was one battle won, but Karkat seemed more like a 'Thirty Year' War' kinda guy. It would take some diligence for Cronus to actually get some leverage on him. Cronus barely held back a grin, swinging his legs under his desk like an overeager child. He made a point of making this classes' notes precise and clean, with penmanship that rivaled the greatest. Of course, years of being groomed to inherit a multi-million dollar did that to you.

As soon as class was over he lead the way with a swagger in his step, knowing his pals would soon hear the gossip that Cro had snatched himself a babe. The ACTUAL rumor would be that he had dragged some unwilling fresh off the boat sap into his clutches, but for the moment, he was ignorant to that. With a flourish, he unlocked his door.

"S' not much, but make yourself at home."

What a show-off. 'Not much' consisted of a Michelin-grade kitchen, modern living room that looked fresh of the factory floor and other miscellaneous things that definitely didn't come with the room. Cronus swept off to his room to print off a fresh copy of his notes, leaving Karkat to fend for himself in the luxurious dorm.

[greaseandmagic]

==>

It was in English when the memories flashed by his eyes like an old film.

He remembered the day his father left them. It was Sunday, Eridan was watching Spongebob on the huge flat screen out in the living room. Cronus knew something was wrong the moment he stepped out of his bedroom. The house reeked of spirits, several chairs were overturned and his father was holed up in the room at the very end of the hall neither of them were aloud to go into, under any circumstances. When his father finally walked into the kitchen, Cronus had made himself and his brother pancakes.

“We’re leaving. I expect both of you in the car in ten, not a minute later.”

He was struck with a sense of foreboding, stuffing his brother’s army men and his favorite stuffed seahorse he had gotten from his friend Terezi into his backpack before dragging him away from the T.V.

His stomach turned as he clutched at his pencil, willing those thoughts away. He looked down at his hands, finally noticing the violent shaking that had overtaken them. Without a word he collected up his things, stumbling out from his seat, bowling past his teacher in his hurry to get away from the overwhelming noise.

Eridan was so happy to hear they were going to see the trains, it almost soothed over his anxieties, but the grim look on his father’s face brought the feeling back like a wave. He hustled them out of the car, stopping to sit them down on the bench. 

"Stay there. I’m going to get a drink."

He began to walk away, but turned back around to drape his enormous leather jacket around his shoulders.

Cronus knew he wouldn’t be coming back.

Time passed slowly, Eridan began to whine that he was taking too long, taking out his toys and starting to play out on the floor in front of them. People began to give them worried looks around the second hour. Soon the man behind the glass booth asked them where his father went, and if he should call a nice police officer to help them find him. He accepted the offer.

He curled himself up under a flight of stairs, shaking violently as tears ran down his face with abandon. Cronus didn’t notice the person calling to him until they finally leaned down to touch his shoulder.

"Don’t touch me!" He recoiled away violently, falling back to stare like a cornered animal.

[asymptoticgeometry]

She was late.  Again.  Today, like every other day this semester, she had waited too long to leave for her philosophy lecture because she really really did not care to learn about that bullshit.  Philosophy, seriously why had she thought that was a good idea?!   Every class so far had left her bored out of her skull and her ‘notes’ had become a series of blank lined sheets barring the doodles that bleed out of the margins.  Still, even if was her least favourite class, and hence the reason she was running behind, she had no intention to miss it when she’d spent actual money to pretend to learn about the subject.

Of course, plans change, and they sure do change quickly when, halfway up the stairs, the muffled sounds of the stairwell’s other patron intersect  the pounding of her sneakers on the concrete slabs.  She stills, a tight knot forming in her throat as she recognizes those tones translates to harsh breathing and choked back sobs.  She frowns, takes a deep breath and wishes her good attendance good-bye as she turns on her heel to descend.

She so did not have time for this but it wasn’t like she was going to leave some kid alone when they were bawling in a secluded corner like their world was ending.  No one cries at school where their peers could see them (and laugh and talk shit about them behind their back), not if they can help it.  She would know, after the unfortunate mess that were her middle school years, that its nothing anyone would choose to do.

"Hey. Kid."  She calls out curtly as she leans over the metal railing into the shaded corner that held the quaking dark-haired boy. At his lack of response, she rounds the bannister and over to him, repeating a little softer, "Heeeeeeeey.  Come on, it’s going to be okay."

And when she places her hand on his shoulder to get his attention, she’s caught completely off-guard by his change in demeanor as he lashes out at her before drawing back inward upon himself.  Vriska snatches her hands to her sides and raises them, palms open in sign of surrender, and takes a few steps back until she bumps into the opposing wall.  If he needs space she is more than willing to give it to him but she’s not leaving unless he asks.

"Whooooooooa. Okay… No touching.  Gotcha.  Just uh, are you okay?"  Ugh, dumb question Serket, of course he’s not okay…

[greaseandmagic]

Cronus looked up, realizing that the figure in front of him was not some shred of his subconscious he had imagined, but an actual living being. He quickly remembered what a state he must be in, he rubbed the tears from his face and tried to collect himself, which was a completely impossible task. He still shook weakly as his body continued to be on alert, the urge to run rising like bile in his throat.

"I..." His voice was raw, fuck. "I'm fine. Nothin' 'ta see here."

Not his most convincing performance.

[greaseandmagic]

It was in English when the memories flashed by his eyes like an old film.

He remembered the day his father left them. It was Sunday, Eridan was watching Spongebob on the huge flat screen out in the living room. Cronus knew something was wrong the moment he stepped out of his bedroom. The house reeked of spirits, several chairs were overturned and his father was holed up in the room at the very end of the hall neither of them were aloud to go into, under any circumstances. When his father finally walked into the kitchen, Cronus had made himself and his brother pancakes.

"We're leaving. I expect both of you in the car in ten, not a minute later."

He was struck with a sense of foreboding, stuffing his brother's army men and his favorite stuffed seahorse he had gotten from his friend Terezi into his backpack before dragging him away from the T.V.

His stomach turned as he clutched at his pencil, willing those thoughts away. He looked down at his hands, finally noticing the violent shaking that had overtaken them. Without a word he collected up his things, stumbling out from his seat, bowling past his teacher in his hurry to get away from the overwhelming noise.

Eridan was so happy to hear they were going to see the trains, it almost soothed over his anxieties, but the grim look on his father's face brought the feeling back like a wave. He hustled them out of the car, stopping to sit them down on the bench. 

"Stay there. I'm going to get a drink."

He began to walk away, but turned back around to drape his enormous leather jacket around his shoulders.

Cronus knew he wouldn't be coming back.

Time passed slowly, Eridan began to whine that he was taking too long, taking out his toys and starting to play out on the floor in front of them. People began to give them worried looks around the second hour. Soon the man behind the glass booth asked them where his father went, and if he should call a nice police officer to help them find him. He accepted the offer.

He curled himself up under a flight of stairs, shaking violently as tears ran down his face with abandon. Cronus didn't notice the person calling to him until they finally leaned down to touch his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" He recoiled away violently, falling back to stare like a cornered animal.

[seer-of-nothing-blog]

==> Terezi drop all of you books

Terezi had been walking back from her general history class. Instead of bring her backpack like she normally did she decided to just carry the books in her free arm. In her other hand she held onto Pyral’s harness. Pyral was suppoesed to be making sure the blind girl didn’t trip over the bump in the sidewalk. Everyone makes mistakes, even guide dogs. Terezi’s foot caught on the bump and she let go of her books to catch herself. 

Books scattered themselves in front of Terezi. “¡Qué chingados!” Caught off guard, the Mexican girl found herself slipping into Spanish. Falling to her knees, Terezi felt around in front of her for the dropped books. She heard footsteps coming toward her. “¿Puedes ayudarme por favor?” The Spanish flowed out of her mouth quickly before she could really think of what she was saying. 

[greaseandmagic]

Like any self proclaimed 'nice guy', Cronus was only too happy to help a dame in need (as long as he got something out of it, too), and this girl looked like she needed a handsome set of hands. He was momentarily shocked to hear Spanish, but quickly converted his earlier thought over from English. How could the heir to a multi-million dollar company survive a day without knowing practically every language still used today?

"Lo que sea por una señora bonita." He collected up her books in one arm before setting a hand under her arm to help her up, quick and efficiently.

[mutemotherfucker]

I Ain't Gonna Hurt Ya.

[greaseandmagic]

He gasped, quickly grabbing his wallet from his hands. “That’s the one! Hey, you seem like a pretty cool cat, y’ want to grab a drink with me? My treat, f’r finding my wallet and all that.” He gives him a small flirtatious grin before looking down to stick his wallet in its place, securely tucked in his pocket.

He barely noticed Kurloz’s once-over in his glee, but if he did, he’d understand completely. His ‘friends’ (read: people who knew he had more money than common sense and were only too eager to extort that) had invited him to a bar, and his outfit certainly reflected that.

His jeans were unreasonably tight, showing off his thin but well-muscled physique. His t shirt had a steep v-neck and followed along with his pants, perhaps a size too small to show off years of swimming competitively. This was all topped off with a worn leather jacket and even more worn pair of chucks. Cronus knew he looked damn good, and that was exactly the problem. A bit of modesty never hurt, but he didn’t know the meaning of the word.

[mutemotherfucker]

Of course, the greaser is also the flirty guy out looking for a couple of drinks and a quick fuck. Not surprising, really, but it was an extreme turn off. Though, Cronus probably doesn’t know that all too well, now does he? He looks oblivious to the techniques he uses on people and how they probably just don’t fucking work at all. But, the more oblivious Cronus is, the sneaker Kurloz can be, and boy does he love being sneaky.

People like the Ampora, people that look that desperate and only want to be loved are the kinds of people the Makara lives off of. They’re the people that, if you poke and prod the right places, they’ll open up real nice and let you in, even if they don’t realize it in the slightest. They’re the kinds of people that will follow direct orders and believe every word you tell them, even though others have advised them not to. They’re the kinds of people that look back and go, ‘What the fuck,’ when they realize that at one moment, it was just some idle chit chat and another, you’ve become their entire world in the blink of an eye. You’ve become their sun, their universe, their absolute everything, and they are but a mother fucking pawn in your game. They are a loyal follower and they are oblivious and they are the ones that Kurloz needs. Cronus is someone Kurloz has been looking for for a long, long time.

It is undoubtedly the highlight of his day, that’s for damn sure.

Unable to speak, Kurloz gave a simple nod in response and began removing his cell from his pocket, ready to attempt actual communication. Either his lack of a tongue with turn Cronus off (a benefit, because he looks annoying) and send him away, or it’d interest him more (also a benefit, because then he’d be wrapped around the Capricorn’s finger).

[greaseandmagic]

What Kurloz had yet to realise was that beneath his selfish, desperate exterior lay a bubbling core of pure, unrealised anger that threatened to burst through with every word he spoke. Though one could play him like a fiddle for a while, he was like a ticking time bomb. Cronus was no one's pawn.

But for the moment, Cronus was simply delighted. He had looked up in time to see his brief nod and gave himself a mental pat on the back for being such a smooth operator. Though his excitement quickly turned to confusion when he pulled out his phone, trying to subtly rock up on his heels to see what he was typing, this dude was ridiculously fucking tall. If this guy was gonna text the whole time, he was buying his own damn drinks.

[greaseandmagic]

Cronus was a bit shocked to hear that, scratch that, MORE than a bit shocked. His eyes only widened with surprise for a fraction of a second before falling back to his tried and true ‘almost sort of apologetic’ face. “Ah, sorry. Though, I am starting to see the resemblance there!” Cronus’ ‘nice guy’ image is starting to crumble, letting out thinly veiled insults. What a charmer. “But, don’t you still want those notes? There’s a test comin’ up, don’t know I’d do without mine but I’m telling ‘ya, wouldn’t be pretty.”

[karkat-vantas-skaiau-deactivate]

Karkat grumbled softly at Cronus’s comment. Resemblance? What the hell kind of resemblance was there? It definitely wasn’t in appearance; different ethnicities, different facial structures and skin tones, not to mention different builds. Unless Cronus was talking about how wordy Karkat was, which was fucking stupid. Vantases weren’t the only people with the gift of gab.

His eyebrow quirked when Cronus brought up the notes again. “Yeah,” he responded with an air of suspicion, “that didn’t change…” Karkat furrowed his brow. “…unless you’re thinking of giving them in exchange for the chance to show me around. In that case you can fuck right off and I can ask one of our classmates.”

[greaseandmagic]

He sticks his hands up in the air defensively, his bottom lip puffing out pathetically. "Hey, I'm totally okay with just handing you my notes. But see, I've got a printer back at my place, I can print you off a copy and be done with it. Don't gotta act like I'm some kinda deviant."

[mutemotherfucker]

I Ain't Gonna Hurt Ya.

[greaseandmagic]

Cronus began to have the sneaking feeling he was being followed. Usually, that would mean a fresh-off-the-boat girl without a shred of self respect, but the feeling he got was… Ominous. It sent chills up his spine and he rounded every corner with apprehension. He WAS going to get coffee, but half way there he decided to head home. Not because he was scared, Cronus Ampora did NOT get scared. It was just… It was beginning to get dark. He could get mugged or something, and to top it off it was payday. He had every reason to be cautious.

Speaking of… He patted down his pockets, searching for the aforementioned wallet. Oh man, it must have fallen out in his last class. He turned on heel, running headlong into the guy who might or might not have been tailing him. He let out a pathetic squeak, holding up his hands to defend himself. When the man didn’t strike out or demand his wallet, let alone speak, he hurriedly pulled himself into his ‘cool guy’ pose. He cleared out his throat before he spoke, efficiently stopping him from sounding like a frightened child.

"Real sorry there, pal. Y’ haven’t seen a wallet around here, by chance?"

After he said his piece, he finally have the guy a once over and immediately regretted speaking. He had to be three heads taller than him and looked like he could tear him apart seven different ways with his bare hands. Oddly attractive, though. Cronus wondered if this was the right time to be noticing this as he waited for him to make any indication heard a word he said.

[mutemotherfucker]

The body slam into him didn’t phase Kurloz in the slightest, standing his ground and retaining his footing easily. He expected as much, expected Cronus to flip his shit or have some sort of panic attack once he realized his wallet was gone, which meant everything in it. Speaking of… No no. Kurloz would just take instead. He followed this dude for a reason and he was going to get what he wanted out of the situation.

Or, baby, apparently. What, a man can’t handle being trailed and then scared every once in a while? Well, apparently not Cronus, because that shrill noise that escaped his damn through was pretty fucking pathetic. Hilarious, that’s for sure, but also kind of pathetic. Though… He didn’t strike the Makara as the most manly guy in town. Also another thing he expected.

Slowly sliding his hand out of the pocket of his leather jacket, he displayed the Ampora’s wallet with a stoic expression that slowly transitioned into the smallest hint of a smirk, finding the situation to be fucking hysterical. While he had the chance, he gave the other one hard look-over as well, narrowing his eyes. Hmmm…

He’ll do just fine. For all of his plans.

[greaseandmagic]

He gasped, quickly grabbing his wallet from his hands. "That's the one! Hey, you seem like a pretty cool cat, y' want to grab a drink with me? My treat, f'r finding my wallet and all that." He gives him a small flirtatious grin before looking down to stick his wallet in its place, securely tucked in his pocket.

He barely noticed Kurloz's once-over in his glee, but if he did, he'd understand completely. His 'friends' (read: people who knew he had more money than common sense and were only too eager to extort that) had invited him to a bar, and his outfit certainly reflected that.

His jeans were unreasonably tight, showing off his thin but well-muscled physique. His t shirt had a steep v-neck and followed along with his pants, perhaps a size too small to show off years of swimming competitively. This was all topped off with a worn leather jacket and even more worn pair of chucks. Cronus knew he looked damn good, and that was exactly the problem. A bit of modesty never hurt, but he didn't know the meaning of the word.

[greaseandmagic]

Unless you had somehow managed to worm your way past Cronus’ false personas and bullshit, you didn’t get any generosity unless there was ulterior motive behind it. He barely spoke to people unless he thought he could gain something, social standing, money, affection, you name it. This wasn’t any different.

"Your options are pretty slim, bud. I’m surprised Porrim hasn’t swept you up yet, her advances are a lot less… subtle, than mine. Aranea’s a babe but she’ll talk your head off. Mituna, I have no idea what the fuck’s going on up there under that mop. Kankri, well, you’re better off avoiding him all together. I don’t think he’d take kindly to you swearin’ like that, he’s a total nag about stuff like that."

[karkat-vantas-skaiau-deactivate]

…If this exchange had been happening outside of class, Karkat would’ve busted a gut. This guy was unbelievably pathetic, to be honest. His way of bolstering his appeal was by trying to lower that of people Karkat didn’t even know. No attempt at listing his assets, nah, this guy decided to point out the flaws of others. What a piece of work.

And then he brought up Kankri and the Latino just couldn’t help rolling his eyes at that. “Kankri’s my cousin and also my roommate, so I don’t really have the choice to avoid him. And no, he definitely doesn’t like how much I swear. But he’s family, whether I like it or not, and he doesn’t try to hit on me because that’d be even more gross than you doing it. As for Porrim and Aranea, I haven’t even met them, so I’m reserving judgment until I do. So you’re still at the bottom of the list of people I’d want to be shown around by. Try again.”

[greaseandmagic]

Cronus was a bit shocked to hear that, scratch that, MORE than a bit shocked. His eyes only widened with surprise for a fraction of a second before falling back to his tried and true 'almost sort of apologetic' face. "Ah, sorry. Though, I am starting to see the resemblance there!" Cronus' 'nice guy' image is starting to crumble, letting out thinly veiled insults. What a charmer. "But, don't you still want those notes? There's a test comin' up, don't know I'd do without mine but I'm telling 'ya, wouldn't be pretty."