CALAMITY ! ! !

"you can't be a rebel if you don't rebel" "fuck... true" christopher kit novak, 17, junior, keough

[kitsnovak-blog]

nighmore-norman

Norman gave a small smile; he was pretty sure that this guy… This… Kit, was going to tell him he wasn’t basic, which would have been kind, but he didn’t finish that sentence which probably means he knew it was true. “Norman, I would remember if we would have met. Not that I remember everyone I meet but you have kind of unforgettable eyes… Like, I could feel them on me and then I saw them and now I cannot forget them. So, I probably won’t forget you now… Kit.” He mumbled hopelessly hoping he wasn’t coming off weirder than normal.

His eyes followed the others pen and a grin tugged at the lower corners of his lips. “I uh, yeah. Totally. By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.” He quoted gleefully. Macbeth was easily his favourite of all of the plays. He loved the drama, the betrayal and the super naturalness of the witches. He would love to study English at College just to analyse how Shakespeare explores the realm of the supernatural.

“I’ve always kind of understood Shakespeare. He has a rich language and his plays are more blueprints than literature. I can help you if, if you would want that…”

kit was pretty sure he was going red despite himself, and looked down at his page to obscure it. unforgettable eyes? what the fuck did this norman guy mean by unforgettable eyes? he seemed... well, pretty weird, so maybe that was just, like, a thing he said. probably. he’d called himself basic and forgettable to a near stranger, so yeah, that was probably it. socially awkward, just trying to be polite, and the phrasing came out weird. kit could definitely relate. “...thanks,” he said after a long, long moment. 

one thing was for sure, this guy had entirely too much joy in his voice when reading shakespeare. still, if he liked it that much, he could definitely lend kit a hand. “yeah,” kit said, encouragingly. like, what did pricking your thumb have to do with it? was there something about biting your thumb in shakespearean times? wasn’t that a thing? he had no fucking clue. “yeah that’s, uh, that’s what i’m talking about.” 

“a blueprint?” okay, now norman had completely lost him, but he shook his head. whatever. just the fact that they were having this discussion meant he needed help, and soon. “yeah, totally,” he said, a little too enthusiastically. “uh, we’re doing a final paper for king lear. and, like, i don’t, i have no clue what the fuck is happening.” something about three princesses and lear getting naked in the middle of a storm and some guy going blind and thinking he fell off a cliff? if there was a plot in there somehow kit would love to have it explained to him. 

[kitsnovak-blog]

sofiebauers

sofie wasn’t particularly good at reading people, but in this instance she at the very least understood this was uncomfortable. for him at least, she was still being powered by concern for her housemate and friend ? mmm, maybe acquaintance was a more accurate. and more appropriate, she didn’t want to push her luck even in her own head. she pressed lips together as she listened, giving him her full attention, even nodding a little as he spoke to prove it. this was important to her, it would have been important if it was any other ke-bee but she was especially fond of her loyal time keeper.

oh shit. they were roommates? are roommates? shit. she should have known that, and immediately felt guilty that she hadn’t. but she tried not to show that, simply nodding again, “ if you want me to like write something up for that, i can, ” she offered. it probably wouldn’t hold too much value, but short of a recommendation from a member of faculty, it wasn’t too bad. “ i don’t have to mention anything that actually happened, if you don’t want, ” however if he wanted to inform someone that might actually be able to make a difference, sofie was in full support. “ i can just make something up about like, ” she paused to think for a second. something that would just say it’s not working fam but like, professional. you know? “ personality clashes creating a disruptive environment for both of you, or like, whatever. ”

as he continued a small wrinkle formed between her brows. she probably wasn’t really supposed to take sides but like, come on. she felt for him. only a psycho wouldn’t, she was sure of it. “ i’m sorry, ” she said, sympathy coming through quite clearly in her tone. “ i’m sorry that happened. ” she didn’t know a whole lot else to say that would pull them back to comfortable territory but she knew she probably should push just a fraction more, just a tiny bit more. “ does uh, does this sort of thing happen often? or has it– has it happened before? ” she asked, trying to be tender with her wording, her tone, everything but stumbling a little in the process.

kit bit his lip; that was a very generous offer. the administration tended to be unwilling to grant roommate transfers, especially this late in the year, so a word from a house captain would be quite beneficial. or, at least, that’s what kit assumed. and she was willing to lie for him, too. or, maybe not lie, exactly, just obscure the truth. “that would be really great,” kit said, “um, but i just need to decide if i’m actually going to transfer or not.” because he hadn’t actually decided yet, even if everything in him was screaming to do so. like there was still a part of him that didn’t want to be mean. 

something about those words, i’m sorry that happened, always triggered the waterworks for kit. something about being so mean to yourself in your own head made every single act of sympathy all the more powerful. still, he barely managed to keep himself inside. he just nodded, and managed a small smile at sofie. 

kit honestly didn’t know how to reply to that, because this kind of thing did happen all the time. not necessarily to this extent, and not necessarily at nico’s hands, but... it was still happening. however, if kit had learned anything in middle school, it was that telling on the bully almost always made the situation worse. he looked up at sofie, waiting so patiently for him to respond, and he knew he’d have to lie. he didn’t think he had much of a choice. “not... not really, no. that’s the first time something like that has happened.” he played with a sheet of notebook paper, keeping his eyes downcast. "nico's been pretty good, otherwise."

[kitsnovak-blog]

elizald

It was extremely rare that Eliza ever came across as anything short of sweet, polite or remarkably ordinary. She said all her yes please’s and no sir’s just as her parents had taught her, she kept her knees together and sat up straight, she even could point out every country and continent on a world map or do quick math with big numbers in her head. But today, with her journal having been MIA and her deepest and darkest secrets floating out in the world somewhere for anyone to find, she didn’t feel like herself. No, she was trembling now, her hands cold and her heart racing as she waited for Kit to say something. She hoped he’d say no, that he wouldn’t dare, that he would never…

Just a little. That was the just the part open.

Eliza’s eyes closed and with that cue, she felt all the lights go out in her head and the low whir of a power shutdown happen inside her. Like a science lab going into a power trip, if red hazard lights could flash behind her eyelids, they would. For a brief moment, everything felt dark and silent, like a giant room, empty and eerie. But then, her eyes opened and they found the journal in Kit’s hand, his eyes glassy. Great, along with making herself feel terrible, clearly she was making him feel equally awful. God, what was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just do anything right?

“Me too.” The words croaked out of her before she lifted a hand to cover her nose while she sniffed, trying to force the salt back into her tear ducts. It wasn’t working though, so she cleared her throat and avoided eye contact. “May I have it?” She reached out, wishing to melt into the floor just so that everything around her would just disappear, herself included.

her reaction made kit want to sink into the floor. he shouldn’t have read it, he shouldn’t have read any of it. it was still her private thoughts, in her very clearly private journal. but he didn’t think about that, he never thought about anything, and that seemed to be his downfall lately. 

eliza sniffling just made kit start crying all the harder, if only a little bit. but he tried to stifle it; this wasn’t about him, after all. he was the one at fault here, he didn’t deserve an iota of pity right now. even if kit was excellent at eliciting pity. he wanted to try and comfort her, somehow, but words seemed to fail him. what could he, a near-stranger, possibly say to make this situation any better? 

when she asked for the journal, he instantly pushed it towards her. right, she needed that back. of course he’d forgotten to return the damn thing in the first place. once she had it back, kit tried to find the words, because he- he knew what this was like. he’d felt alone with his own sickening mind, like no one would ever understand him. but she was already mad at him, he’d have to be careful, but he needed to say- he needed to say something. 

“hey,” the word came out halting, and loud. he swallowed, trying to get his thoughts in order. “um, i don’t... mean to overstep.” more than i already have. “but i just... i mean, based off what you said at the barn party...” because he didn’t want her to think he’d read more of the journal than he’d admitted to, “i’ve just... i’ve been there. i am there. and you don’t,” fuck, he probably needed to preface this, “you don’t have to like, talk to me about it, not at all, i just want you to know that you’re not alone.” 

[kitsnovak-blog]

dylsson

Dylan Thompson was like a live wire among the student body of Broadripple, always sparking and ready to zap anybody who got too close. Most who had their wits about them just didn’t. Get to close, that was. Because as bright as Dylan could be when given a soldering iron or a particularly confusing string of Python, when it came to people, he was just feral and everybody knew it.

There was no account in the history of his time at the school where Dylan had been even remotely friendly to Kit unless it was to make him walk head first into a trap of torment. Today, as he got up from his tiresome catch-up with Louisa, Dylan was itching for some entertainment. As good as he was with math, it was boring and boredom for Dylan might as well have been a weapon of mass destruction. It made him rowdy.

On his way out, he had to double-take on the freak sitting by himself at a table being a full-on nerd. What a loser, he snorted to himself, figuring he wanted to grab something to eat but then an opportunity presented itself to him that he simply couldn’t give up. Caught staring at an ordinary looking girl from across the way, a sadistic sort of smirk rose onto Dylan’s features, before deciding he had to insert himself.

“Hey, Skit.” Dylan slapped a hand hard onto the guy’s shoulder, gracing him with the unkind nickname he’d been using for him ever since he’d met him. “Man, look, if you’re looking to stick your dick in something, I think you’d have a better shot with a grapefruit,“ He interrupted, provoking a revolted look from the girl just sitting a few seats away from Kit and hopefully embarrassing Kit into the nether. “You know, I hear this kid barely showers,” He added quickly for the girl’s information, thumbing over to Kit until she began to pack her things timidly and remove herself from the situation. Dylan grinned, looking back at Kit. “You know, maybe if you like, gave up the guyliner and stopped being such a weirdo, people would actually wanna talk to you. Also heard you got taped to a pole like a pussy by the way. Sad I wasn’t there to see it.”

kit nearly jumped out of his goddamned seat, turning in horror to see it was fucking dylan thompson. he’d been safe last night, miraculously, but it seemed the miracle was over. he tried not to look too obviously upset at the nickname (his name really was unfortunate; he’d gotten shit, clit, and now skit). it was impossible, however, to hide his flush at dylan’s implication. “no, i-.” he turned back to the girl he’d been not-staring at, “i wasn’t-.” but her disgusted look cut him off, and he realized his denial was just digging himself further into a hole. 

he wished he could roll his eyes, or brush it off, or act like it doesn’t affect him, but fuck it does, okay? if kit could, he’d give himself thicker skin, a devil-may-care attitude, but he couldn’t be anyone but himself. sad, sensitive, poor kit novak. (also, yeah, he was a sweaty person with super oily hair, but that didn’t mean he never bathed. but he was pretty sure dylan wouldn’t care about that.) “dylan,” he said, trying to appeal to the other student’s non-existent humanity, “don’t bring her into this, alright? that’s just uncalled for.” 

he gritted his teeth, because he knew it was true. most people didn’t want to talk to him. clearly, all dylan was doing was taunting him, purely because kit was there, so he shut his notebook and started to put his things away. “i’m sure alex or nico took pictures; ask them about it.” kit hadn’t seen them do it, but it seemed very likely. for all he knew, those pictures would be shared with the entire school as soon as the power came back on. 

[kitsnovak-blog]

sofiebauers

while sofie had been struggling to drink the kool aid on many broadripple things lately, one that she had happily drank was the idea that everyone in communal areas was safer and more convenient than leaving everyone in their dorm.  though after hearing what louisa had dealt with through the night she was a little in the air about convenience. “ yeah, i guess, ” she lifted her shoulders a little. “ as official as a decision made in the middle of the night can be. ” sure, it had been an uncomfortable solution but sofie was glad it had saved her from having to discover someone had managed to hurt themselves, or wore, in the morning.

a wide smile spread on her features as kit revealed he was still glad to help out, and actually seemed excited about it. one thing she had certainly learned while being house captain was that it was kind of hard to get teenagers excited about anything to do with school. “ awesome, great! ” she beamed, though she then wondered how she would segue to arguably the more important thing she had planned to talk to kit about.

as if reading her mind, he asked if that was all. she noted that he appeared nervous, it only peaked her worries that what apparently happened at the barn wasn’t a one off. “ no, it’s not, ” she admitted slowly, pausing her words to slide into the chair opposite kit. this felt like a conversation that couldn’t be had while she was standing. she didn’t want him to think she was trying to advertise what had happened to anyone who might not know or anything like that. “ i, um– i heard about something that happened at the barn, with one of the melleray boys, ” her voice was lowered, to make sure the conversation was private. she also thought that the fact that the perpetrator was supposedly a pledge for the boys club shouldn’t be over looked. “ i wanted to make sure you were okay. are you okay? ” she also kind of wanted to apologise for him then being stuck with said melleray boy all night, but she hadn’t known. and louisa hadn’t known. and even if they had, what could they have done that wouldn’t have singled either of the boys out?

okay, fair enough. it was probably a snap decision on the part of the administration, but still. something about it seemed... off. like the staff wanted to keep an eye on everyone, make sure they were all together, so no one was isolated and could be picked off... then again, that was probably just kit’s imagination. 

kit swallowed. aw, fuck, this was about the kitchens, wasn’t it? well, if kit was going down for it, nico was damn well coming with him. the dread in his stomach only got colder and heavier when sofie sat down, and he thought, oh no, this is going to be a talk. she was going to tell him how he’d been caught running out of the kitchen, how she was appalled at his behavior, how she knew he could do better and why had he done something as childish and pointless as start a rotten meat fight? 

so when she mentioned the barn, his jaw dropped momentarily. subconsciously, his hand went to the splinter still lodged in his thumb. he should have been expecting this debriefing, given how many people seemed to know about that... predicament. “oh, um.” he tried to find the words. “thank you. i’m... fine. i’m okay. i mean-.” he took a deep breath; was he okay? part of him insisted that he was already pretty paranoid and anxious, already had panic attacks and night terrors; how much more damage could an assault like that really do? but the roommate transfer form burning a hole in his back pocket said otherwise. “i’m handling it,” kit tried. “i’m- i’m probably gonna file for a roommate transfer, just so i feel safer. i mean, i’m not hurt, or anything. i mean, it did hurt-.” kit grimaced, wondering how much sofie knew and how much he might need to explain. “but i’m not hurt now. nothing permanent. um.” he looked around, at a loss for words. he didn’t know what sofie wanted to hear. “yeah,” he finished lamely. “i’ll be fine.” 

[madnessiskey]

You (2018), dir. Marcos Siega Season 1 Episode: Amour Fou

[kitsnovak-blog]

elizald:

Eliza could feel her heart racing in her throat with dread at the bewildered look on the nun’s face as she pleaded for her journal. In reality, she knew that she couldn’t just make it appear by demand, but she didn’t know what else to do. If someone found it and ready it, she’d be ruined. But if someone found it and gave it to Damian, her entire situation with him would be amplified. There would be no return from it, no apology good enough. Either way, she was screwed. Sweat pooled at the back of her neck just thinking about it.

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝙿𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚠𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝙲𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝-𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝟼 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝙼𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚜. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝟸.𝟻 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚢𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜, 𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚌 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕, 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜? 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝟷𝟼 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝.

Hearing her name, Eliza swung around to face someone, someone she remembered from class but also foggily from the other night. Oh no… Christopher Novak. No, Kit. That’s what she’d over-heard people call him before, but frankly, she’d never actually had to address him by name before. She wasn’t going to start now and get it wrong. And honestly, if it hadn’t been for the liquid courage the other night, she couldn’t imagine ever striking up a conversation with him either, particularly because ( and she hated it but it was bread into her ) she noticed his holey converse and British Anarchy vibes and knew her parents would sooner rather her be shipped to a convent than have anything to do with someone like Kit Novak.

𝙼𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚢𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚍. 𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚡𝚢, 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚘𝚗. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛-𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙳𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕. 𝙸𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙻𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙱𝚢𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛, 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝚈𝚎𝚜, 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛! 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛… 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛.

Looking at his face and then down to the leather journal he clutched, Eliza felt her gut tighten more and her fingers go icy cold. The initial silence drew on, which seemed to make the nun behind her make up her mind that the situation was now dealt with and left them staring at each other. She couldn’t help it, her teeth clenched together behind her lips and her entire body stiffened.

𝙸 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝙾 𝟸 𝚖𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎, 𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚖. 𝙰 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚍𝚘, 𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎, 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠. 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔. 𝙳𝚎𝚑𝚢𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗… 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝, 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝. 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜𝚘𝚗’𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙱𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚢. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚍. 𝙳𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

Finally, Eliza found her voice. “Did you read it?” It was a suspicious thing to say, she knew, but she couldn’t help it, she needed to know. Had he read the lists? The deceiving things she’d said about her friends and family? Her progress plans?

it had been a while since kit had felt like a blight, some kind of disgusting infection, but the way eliza was looking at him right now did the trick. even if that’s not what she meant, that was where kit’s mind tended to end up. ah, so this was why he’d been afraid to speak to her at the party. because now, the harsh light of day illuminated what a fucking stain he was on the broadripple name. he glanced down at the ground, curling in on himself, jesus, kit, don’t fucking cry. 

he took a deep breath and, once he’d composed himself, he looked back up, making to step forward, when he realized eliza was... scared. terrified. of him? kit couldn’t possibly hurt anyone, but he knew he could be... well, creepy. were there some abhorrent rumors flying around about him? he’d heard a few, but he didn’t think they’d garner this strong of a reaction. it wasn’t until eliza spoke that he finally understood what she was so scared of. 

kit recalled her words from the other night, i’m pretty sure i’m going to hate myself tomorrow. more than i usually do, y’know? there was definitely more than just itineraries in this journal; kit was familiar enough with the contents of his own head to figure out what, exactly, might be contained within. she was scared of someone knowing the breadth and depth of her own self-loathing, something she was probably desperate to hide. 

kit himself had been urged, multiple times and by multiple different specialists, to try journaling, but not only was he too forgetful to do it regularly, it hurt to put his thoughts down on the page. he didn’t really think in words, he thought in feelings, in nondescript concepts, so even conceiving of his thoughts in concrete terms tended to put him out of commission for hours. the first time he’d tried journaling, at age eleven, and he put together the sentence, i wish i’d died instead of my mom, not even on the page but just in his head, he broke down, sobbing so hard he threw up. just the fact that eliza could have gone through something even remotely similar, in the process of writing all this down, was heartbreaking, and the fact that she thought someone (like him) had read it... kit started tearing up again, just in pure sympathy. 

he’d paused too long before answering, but kit knew, given the circumstances, she didn’t deserve to be lied to. he took a few steps forward, and held out the journal. “just... just a little itinerary page. that was just the part open when i found it. nothing else. i’m... i’m still really sorry, though.” for everything. when he realized he’d started crying, he hastily wiped at his eyes with his free hand. “sorry, this isn’t-,” he shook his head, looking away. “i just cry sometimes, sorry.” 

[kitsnovak-blog]

nighmore-norman:

Norman had a free period and of course, it only made sense to hideout in the library. He wasn’t one for hanging around in the communal areas of the school or even for any type of socialising events. The library was safe. It was quiet and there were very few crowds.

He found a spare table only a few feet from another student and set up his book on William Shakespeare. He loved studying Shakespeare, even out of class. Norman made sure his pens and pencils were roughly 2cm apart from each other and then carefully angled his book. He was feeling particularly cheerful today and decided not to measure the lengths with his ruler.

Norman was about to begin when he felt eyes staring at him. It wasn’t the first time he had experienced this in the school. Nor would it be the last. He started to scratch the back of his palm as he looked up and made eye contact with the other student. He couldn’t place the face, maybe he was older than he was? “That’s okay…” He said inhaling slightly. “You’re probably not even staring at me or anything because why would anyone want to stare at me? I’m very… Basic… SO, I’m going to stop talking and uh, I’ll let you keep staring at whatever you were… Staring at…” He mumbled hopelessly.

kit was surprised to see he didn’t really recognize the boy; he was more of an observer than anything else, so faces around campus tended to be, at the very least, familiar. although the other boy was a little mousey, kit wouldn’t say he was straight-up forgettable. 

“i mean, you’re not-,” basic, kit wanted to say, even though he kinda was, but hearing that much self-deprecation in one sentence when he barely even knew the guy was freaking him out a little. “or, uh, i wasn’t staring at anything, i was just,” kit waved his hand in a vague manner, “thinking.” and then, in an attempt to save this discussion, added, “i’m kit, by the way. i don’t know if we’ve met.” 

when he noticed the other student was working on shakespeare, that piqued his interest. “hey, do you, uh,” he indicated the book with the butt of his pen, “do you understand this stuff? because i... don’t.” unlike math or physics, where kit could manage to logic through the problems, english had always proven difficult to parse. zoe helped him out when it came to writing essays, since she was the queen of bullshit (her words not his), but it always bothered kit that he had no idea what was happening in these books half the time, let alone what the themes were. 

[kitsnovak-blog]

sofiebauers:

“ yeah, my little sister does it sometimes. ” sofie nodded, while it might have sounded like a confession of how she knew, it wasn’t. it was an attempt to normalise it seeing as he hadn’t confirmed or denied if he’d been asleep yet. also truth be told, she didn’t know if her sister was still doing it. she’d done it over christmas break, waking herself and the rest of the house up by accident when a motion sensor santa by the front door had started singing.

she nodded again when he explained himself, glad she wasnt dealing with a sleep walking and talking version of kit. at least if he agreed to do something he might remember it. butthen again, if she wanted to bring up the rumours she’d heard about him at the barn party, then maybe a subconscious version of kit would have been easier to communicate with. “ oh, it wasn’t too bad. all things considered, you know, ” fuck knows what she was considering because her night had been shit, just now that she was post nap she wasn’t going to say that. “ the chapel was kinda creepy but, ” she should have thought of the positive of her sentence but she didn’t, as a result she had to pause for a moment to think of one “ i think some people found it kind of comforting, which is, you know, good, ” she nodded slowly, not even convinced by her own words. any sense of comfort the chapel might have given to anyone had been promptly destroyed by kat bishop puking in a holy water font. but it didn’t matter, because “ at least no one got hurt or anything, ” she said, swiftly moving on. “ like that was the whole point of everyone being out of their dorms, and it worked and the power should be back on soon so, not the end of the world. ” she rambled, trying her bauer best to be positive about what felt like the crappiest night and following day she’d ever had at broadripple.

hmm? oh yeah! sofie was here for a reason! two actually! she had forgotten about those. maybe she wasn’t as awake after her nap as she thought. “ uh yeah, i just wanted to double check you were still happy to be my time keeper for house stuff, there’s a few different carnivals coming up, ” not any time soon but as mentioned, sofie was desperate to distract herself.

he smirked at that fact, wondering if sofie had, also, received a black eye after saving her sleepwalking little sibling from a life-threatening situation, or if she had been fortunate enough not to learn from experience. 

all things considered. yeah, truly, there wasn’t much good to be found last night, but leave it to sofie to put it as delicately as possible. kit nodded along; it was definitely good that some people found comfort, even though he, personally, couldn’t imagine being calm while sleeping in the chapel. he very much agreed with her diagnosis of creepy, but he probably shouldn’t say that out loud. “that’s good,” he agreed. “is that the official reason, then? so no one would get injured?” even kit had to admit how bluntly-put that was, but he had trouble picturing how, exactly, anyone could get hurt while in their own rooms during the blackout. like, weren’t you just as likely to get injured tripping over someone in the chapel? 

he perked up, a grin spreading over his features. “yeah, yeah totally!” he had trouble keeping track of all the different house events, or just the passage of time in general, so he always appreciated a reminder. but... kit had the strangest feeling that wasn’t everything. for a split second, he panicked, because holy shit, what if this was about his and jace’s little excursion last night? or worse, his and nico’s little excursion. he already felt bad for the poor sanitation staff who probably had to clean up after them, and now sofie was probably also disappointed in him. he tried to hide his panic, toying with the page of his notebook and keeping his eyes downcast. “is... is that it?” 

[kitsnovak-blog]

nicodigiovanni: 

“Yeah, didn’t look like one though, or so I have heard.” He shook his head looking thoughtful, yeah Nico hadn’t been there and to be honest, he didn’t really care much about the bone and yet, it was one of Broadripple mysteries even the teenage boy had to admit being at least a little bit curious about it. “But whatever right?”

Domenico grinned back at Kit. ‘See? It is more fun if you take it like a game.’ He thought, but didn’t speak up, hopefully his rommie will get it on his own. And well, besides, even he would have to admit it, this was way more light hearted than the whole hanging Kit on a pole thingies. Not that the boy could realize how much it hurt Kit though, not yet at least.

“Yep definitely gross as fuck.” He chuckled and gave Kit a friendly, playful smile when he noticed that the kid was responding fire. He tried to duck behind one of the counters, but with his reflexes still diminished due to the party debaucheries and the floor being wet he almost fell with his ass on the floor, managing just barely to keep his balance and blocking the rotten meet with one arm.

“Good shot.” Yeah he was already dirty as fuck, who cared right?Still with another chunk of meet in one hand, the boy tried to move through the kitchen, to get a better angle on Kit, before letting it go again.

Nico did not reply to Kit immediately, in fact, he just laughed playfully as the two teenagers kept exchanging slimy projectiles. Perhaps it was a bit childish and maybe it was just the booze, or at least if asked by anyone he would pretend it was, but the boy found their little battle quite entertaining.

It wasn’t until a few exchanges, ducks and throws, that the young man realized that their mess they were making must have attracted some attentions from the dorm. Nop he wasn’t going to get caught drenched in that crap. “Yeah let’s get the fuck out…” He dashed through the room, keeping his head low as he realized that someone was trying to actually unlock that lead to the kitchen, pausing for a moment just to grab Kit and push him out toward the door.

When they was out the young man ran as fast as possible from the building, only turning occasionally to see if his partner in crime was actually keeping up before almost diving out of sight behind a group of trees in the cloister.

“Dam we must look like fucking shit.” He was breathing hard due to the run, but truth was the young man was still smiling when he faced Kit again.

“i mean, i haven’t seen it,” kit admitted, “so i wouldn’t know.” but he wanted to know so bad, god. what he wouldn’t give to have that bone in his hands. now, kit didn’t even know where it was. 

gee, y’think? he wanted to reply. though, kit supposed nico was the one who fell into it, so he probably knew better than kit. he was thrilled to see he’d nearly hit nico; truly, he’d been expecting to miss entirely. god, this was fucking stupid, but it was also the most fun he’d had all night. and he’d spent most of the night high, so that was saying something. 

when he realized nico was aiming for him again, kit threw his arms over his head, another laugh bubbling in his throat. “dude, stop!” he said, and you could hear the grin in his voice. he must be loopy with fatigue; it had already been a long night. 

kit pushed himself to standing, realizing how fucking filthy he was. god, he reeked. he might have to pull a drea and sneak back to his dorm to get changed. when nico took off, though, he hissed, “hey, wait for me!” he barely remembered to grab his salt on the way out, nearly slipping on their rotten projectiles and tumbling out the door. 

he tripped on his way there, but kit followed nico into the trees, before asking, between breaths, “why did we run?” it wasn’t like anyone was coming after them. or, at least, that’s what kit thought. he gave himself a once over, and sighed, “yeah, and we smell like shit, too. good job.” after a split second of deliberation, he offered nico a hesitant fist bump. 

[kitsnovak-blog]

jacerhawthorne:

Jace pocketed the mace and adjusted his backpack behind him again. He had the EMF detector in hand now as he got up but was half hoping it’d be useless. The other half of him was also anxious to get some sort of proof there was something eerie going on on the Broadripple campus. The nerves and the curiousity in Jace’s personality were at constant battle, worse so in a situation like this. He felt chills run down his spine as Kit explained what he had seen exactly the same way he’d done it before. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his buddy to tell him the truth but he’d been wondering if it was in any way exaggerated. Now it most likely was not since Kit had recalled exactly.

Jace was about to suggest they trek through whatever part of the forest Kit had seen the shadow approach when his friend spoke up. He’d been looking at something on the ground but Jace had assumed it wasn’t anything until he looked towards where his friend shone the light and noticed the footprint. He squinted.

“… Lemme see,” he muttered quietly, inspecting the two footprints and then moving to one side of the print. Jace stepped on the other side of it carefully to make his own indent. Quietly, he realized it had clearly different shoe markings and size than either of their own feet. The thought that someone else was there sent another chill down his back. Instinctively, Jace looked around them in the dark but there was no one as far as his eyes could tell.

Jace kneeled back down and took out his own phone. “Shine the light on it better… I think we need a picture of this.” He took the photo and winced as the bright light flashed through the dark. Hopefully no one was looking out any windows. Jace looked at the photo on his phone and gulped. “Okay… For all we know it’s just one of the students or the faculty. Are there any more?”

kit kept his light on the footprint as jace approached, watching his friend test his own shoe, and realized, we aren’t alone. the tracks still looked reasonably crisp, though notably less fresh than either kit’s or jace’s, so they probably weren’t, like, in earshot. hopefully. he clutched at his phone, and was suddenly very, very thankful that jace had thought to bring mace. 

“yeah,” he agreed, before getting a little closer to the print and turning his phone up to max brightness. he’d have to put his phone onto max power save mode after this, but it would be well worth it. they definitely needed to show this to the rest of the bau, or maybe the police. fuck, what if jace’s theory about worshippers was right? then all the supernatural occurrences, the dead bear, the scream, they might all make sense together. a bunch of people surrounding the campus like vultures, waiting for some being to return. 

kit gulped; and what if that being did return? what if the shadow had been it? he slowly pushed himself to standing, surprised to find his hand wasn’t shaking. i am strong, i am protected. nothing would hurt him, and he’d protect jace if need be. he was sure of it. 

he angled his light further up the path, only to find another, identical footprint. “there,” kit muttered, glancing back to jace to make sure he was ready to go. “i’m... gonna follow it. are you coming with?” 

he followed the trial haphazardly for a several yards, deeper into the forest, when something appeared in the way of the path; a boot. shit, how did someone leave an entire boot here? he looked around for a moment, before finding a sturdy-enough stick on the ground, and attempting to pick it up with that. didn’t want to get fingerprints on it, after all. “do you think this is the same boot from the footprints?” he asked, not checking to see if jace had followed him. 

[kitsnovak-blog]

elizald:

How could anyone ever succumb to alcoholism when it made you feel as if your head were to fall off your shoulders at any given moment the next day? Not to mention, her teeth had felt so furry the next day and her arms ached for God knows what reason, so when class was promptly canceled, Eliza was more than thrilled to crawl back into bed. As far as she was concerned, the world outside her dorm room was canceled too, she’d try again tomorrow.

In the midst of eager bodies to get out of class yesterday, however, Eliza was pummeled by shoulders and the cheering made her cover her ears. Her skull had been pounding and she’d never had a migraine before but she suspected this was worse. With nothing else in mind but her bed and pajamas, the little Fenwick grabbed her satchel and skedaddled, unaware that some personal belongings clattered to the floor in the process. That is, until the next day when she went looking, unable to come up with her possessions without a clue of where they’d gone.

Charting her path from the day before, she poked her head over tables and under chairs, she even asked any nearby staff if anybody had handed her things in. She didn’t want to say what it was exactly, but it was leatherbound and had her initials on the front of it, a dear present from Damian this birthday just passed. Oh God… if anybody thought to look in her diary, that was it, she would never survive the severe embarrassment.

“Are you sure? Are you absolutely positive?” She begged the nun in the hallway who quite frankly, seemed as unimpressed with Eliza’s uncharacteristic desperation as she would be remembering it later that night. “Please, this is very important, it’s a leather journal. It’s very hard to miss. Are you sure nobody has handed it in?”

kit stormed down the hallway after his fight with nico with his head downcast and his mind still on his roommate’s words. fuck, he just- he needed to let it go. he’d find an isolated spot in the library, and he’d take an angry nap, and then he’d make himself some tea in his resident evil mug, the one the nuns hated because it would turn red wherever he held it to look like bloody handprints, and then he’d be- well, not fine, but better.

he was so wrapped up in his little feel-better plan that he didn’t notice the notebook on the floor until he kicked it, sending it skittering down the empty hallway. he checked his surroundings to make sure there wasn’t anyone obviously looking for it, before he went to pick it up himself. it was really nice, made of soft leather and monogrammed with the initials EGF. kit tried to think of anyone he knew with those initials, but came up short.

it was open, pages facing the floor when he’d picked it up, and he hadn’t meant to peek, he really hadn’t, but he’d been expecting to see paragraphs of writing, maybe sketches, but- he squinted at it- it looked like an itinerary. a list of cities and dates and landmarks, shit, even restaurants. once he remembered himself, he shut it, it’s none of your business, and he slipped the notebook into his satchel. he’d return it to the lost and found after his nap. of course, because kit was kit, he forgot, and it wasn’t until breakfast the next morning, when he was sifting around his satchel for his crumpled-up box of chai tea bags that he realized he still had it. fuck, okay, lost and found, right after he ate.

of course, on his way there was when he saw eliza for the first time since the party, looking pretty upset about this leather journ- oh. kit slipped behind the bank of lockers and honest-to-god facepalmed; eliza g. fitzgerald. wow, he really was a moron. he pulled the notebook out of his bag and, trying to act as casually as possible, came back out from behind the lockers as if he had just rounded the corner. “eliza,” he said, approaching her and holding up her notebook. “i, uh, i found this. is it yours?”

[kitsnovak-blog]

sofiebauers:

it had been a long night, there was absolutely no denying that. and sofie wasn’t someone who regularly pulled all nighters. she’d ended up skipping most of breakfast in favour of catching at least an hour of shut eye before class. there was no way she’d be functional without at least a short nap. then another couple hours later, class was cancelled anyway. and now sofie had over-tired, power nap energy and just about nothing at all to do with it. she thought about seeing if she could get a last minute flight back to ohio for the weekend, but one google search later she discovered that was well out of her price range. so what was a girl to do? except completely invest herself in all of her ridiculous ‘projects’?

since the night all the house captains had the worlds worst meeting sofie had avoided her student council duties as much as possible. that involved too much collaboration with damian and gwen, even with louisa there to back her up. that left: 1. trombone practice, which she thought would get her murdered with everyone so tired. 2. hockey practice, which like, was just running around without someone to train with. 3. softball practice, which held the same issues as hockey. 4. overthinking about that stupid bone for another 8 hours and driving herself to anxiety attacks, but she’d done that all night, for now she’d thought every thought she could. and finally, the option she was going to go with, 5. investing herself completely in house bullshit and dragging her entire house with her.

that’s what led her to seeking out kit. while the kid was completely hopeless when it came to sports and competing in general, he didn’t put up a total fight at being involved. which, as far as sofie was concerned, was fantastic. whens he came across him she was about to launch straight into her plans but paused as it seemed he hadn’t noticed her yet. or anything. wait, was he asleep? her head tilted a little as she stood in his line of sight, squinting and trying to look for any tell tale signs that she’d come to learn from her younger sister. before she could be definitive, he snapped out of it. she smiled warmly and straightened up again. “ no, that’s okay, ” she assured quickly, “ i thought you might have been sleep walking or something, and you’re not like, supposed to wake sleepwalkers up. ” that tidbit of knowledge she’d learned from the conjuring. anyway– “ but since you’re not– wait you’re not, right? ” she asked, mostly joking but maybe he was sleep talking too. as if to test that she lifted her hand and gave it a little wave, watching if his eyes followed it.

kit let out a sigh of relief; it was just sofie. he returned her smile almost instantly, knowing his house captain wouldn’t think he was weird (or, more weird) for zoning out like that. honestly, keough had the best house captain. kit couldn’t imagine faring as well with someone like gwen prescott, for example, pushing him to get involved. mainly because she seemed like the type of person to sharpen her perfectly manicured nails to surreptitiously stab people.

“yeah, you’re not,” kit confirmed, “sleepwalkers tend to freak out when you do that.” kit himself used to be a sleepwalker. thankfully, that phase had passed, but one of his worse episodes saw him almost walking into their pool at age nine. he probably would have drowned it if weren’t for benji grabbing him around the torso and hauling him away from the edge. kit jerked awake at the force, disoriented and panicking, and banji had gotten a black eye for his efforts. 

he frowned. “not what? oh,” shit, right. “no, i wasn’t asleep, just... in my head.” he’d rather not explain what, exactly, was going on in there, though his mind instantly went back to the bone. could he ask sofie about that? would that be too weird? “hey, uh, how was your night last night?” he knew that zoe had been freaking out last night, but he hoped that was an isolated incident, and the fenwick-keough girls had been, otherwise, peaceful. sofie deserved a good night’s sleep. and then, of course, because she was house captain and kit was a good house member, he added, “is there anything you need?” 

[kitsnovak-blog]

ecllas:

“Sorry,” Ella laughed, embarrassed. She brushed at her eyes. How selfish of her was it to be getting teary-eyed? If anyone deserved to cry, it was Kit. No matter how confused she was about Nico, or the guilt she felt over hurting him, she couldn’t help feeling it didn’t justify her tears, not when Kit had it so much worse. “I’m just… I got allergies,” she faked a sniffle and rubbed her eyes like they were itchy.

Ella grinned, “hell yeah,” she formed a fist with each hand and jutted her arms out in mock punches. “I’ll tell everyone I gave them a mean one, two.” Ella blushed when he mentioned her saving him again. She picked up her pencil and fiddled it between her fingers. “You’re too sweet,” she replied. It didn’t feel like much to her. Rocks were all she’d really had. It was leave him up there or figure something out, and just leaving him would have never been an option to her. “I’m just lucky it worked.”

Ella winced at the subject of home, straightening up. It was a complicated issue. It would probably be annoying to give him the whole, shitty story. Besides, it sucked talking about her family, thinking about how her dad didn’t want her around anymore. He probably hated her. Not that she could just dump all that on Kit. “No…not me,” she tapped her pencil on the table “I don’t really go home a lot. Y’know, school and swimming keep me busy.” The words came out tight and strained. God, she wished she were a better liar.

“don’t be,” he insisted. he always felt embarrassed for crying, and he didn’t want anyone else to feel that way, if he could help it. “oh, okay” kit did not believe that for a fucking second, but he knew it wasn’t his place to pry. if ella didn’t want him to know, he shouldn’t know. he just hoped it wasn’t nico being a douchebag again. he pulled his hand back, awkwardly folding them in front of himself.

he gave a genuine laugh at her pantomime, before sealing his lips shut and checking out their surroundings as he realized they were in the library. thankfully, the librarian didn’t seem to notice, so they were probably in the clear. now it was kit's turn to blush; not many people called him 'sweet' on the regular, after all. “we’re both lucky,” he corrected; kit was just as lucky her idea had worked, and even more so that it was ella who stumbled upon him.

kit realized that that was a loaded question as soon as he saw ella’s reaction. neither of them really discussed their home life (which kit, frankly, appreciated most of the time). he nodded along with her words, and wondered if she talked about it to anyone. kit had discussed his own situation briefly with jess, both of them commiserating about their shitty fathers, and even that little bit had felt good to share. it was so nice to have someone else tell him that, yeah, that fucking sucked. he wondered if ella needed that, too. he swallowed, keeping his eyes on his page as he tried to figure out how to phrase this, inviting without imposing. “no worries. i... i get it. i don’t go home a lot, either."

[kitsnovak-blog]

ecllas: 

“Well, that’s a relief,” Ella laughed, amused by him. It was sweet, the way he waved his hands, quickly trying to smooth over the things he said. It reminded her of her little brother when she’d catch him doing something he wasn’t supposed to be, like going through their mother’s jewelry box or stealing a dollop of frosting off a birthday cake right before it would be served. It always made her laugh. Then she’d usually get to conspiring right along with him.

At the mention of last night, Ella’s smile faded. She straightened up in her chair, fingers drifting towards each other to thumb at her fingertips, wrapped with blue and green band-aids. It looked stupid and they would fall off in the pool, but it was the only thing keeping the tender skin from hurting when she held a pencil. “It’s no worries, Kit,” she offered him a smile, though it still pained her to think about what he’d gone through. She’d been able to go to sleep that night without much thought about the barn party. But what had it been like for him? He had to live with the memories of what happened to him. It made her throat lock up and her eyes water. She summoned a smile and wiggled her fingers at him. “They’re doing better,” not a complete lie, but she didn’t want him to feel bad for her helping him. “The band-aids kinda make me look a little badass, don’t you think?” They didn’t, but she did like the colors.

Ella groaned, rolling her eyes. The mere memory of it was annoying. “Ugly is an understatement,” she sighed. And calling it a petty catfight hardly seemed reasonable either. “Just Gwen being…Gwen. She got all twisted about Louisa offering to like…help her out? It was weird.”

kit glanced down at her bandaged fingers, face twinging in sympathy. her hands had been pretty cut up last night; they had to still be sore. but when he looked back up at her face, she was almost crying. aw, fuck, kit had no clue how to comfort people. “hey,” he said, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, instead of a creepy one. he reached out for her, and then pulled his hand back in doubt. it existed in limbo for a moment, wondering if they were at that point in their friendship yet, before awkwardly placing it on the table between them. “it’s, uh, it’s gonna be okay.” 

he offered a dorky grin. “hell yeah,” he insisted, only half-teasing. “you can say you got it in a knife fight, that you tugged it out of the guy’s hands by the blade.” that was pretty cinematic, almost downright unbelievable, but kit was having fun with it. “though, i guess literally saving someone with nothing but a rock and your bare hands is just as cool. very macgyver.” 

“yeesh.” honestly, kit was so glad sofie was his house captain, and not someone like gwen prescott. or damian fitzgerald, for that matter. louisa didn’t seem so bad, but sofie was super nice. she always recruited him as timekeeper so he didn’t have to play during their inter-house games; he didn’t even have to ask. “are you planning on going home this weekend, since, y’know, we’re living like the puritans? more so than usual, at least.” kit would definitely leave, if the novak estate wasn’t worse. even though broadripple had no power, no wifi, and entirely too many demons (which, one is too many, if you’re wondering), kit still found it easily preferable to his own home with his own family. 

[kitsnovak-blog]

nicodigiovanni:

Domenico was strolling down the hall, immersed in his thoughts, as the night before had left him with plenty, especially about the status of his relationship with Ella. ‘I shouldn’t fucking  care.’ They were just friends right? Things will fix themselves. Will they? And besides, was she just a friend for him? Not really. Christ! He wished that he had someone to talk about the whole mess, but well, his buddies weren’t exactly the right kind of people to handle a problem like is weren’t they? There was Ella of course, but well… ‘Fuck.’ Whatever he had no luck in figuring out what went between them exactly and there was no point in wasting the whole day after a problem he had no way of solving. Instead, the teenage boy was planning to spend the rest of the day training hard, it had always helped him clear his head.

Absorbed as he was the young man noticed Kit at the last moment and almost bumped on him. “Hey get the fuck-“ He remarked angrily, truth was though, after the shenanigans of the night before it didn’t sound fair to Kit. “Yeah. Ok. Sorry.” He conceded, with much calmer and way lower tone of the voice.

What the hell was he doing there though? The young man could not say, yeah maybe deep down he noticed that Kit was a little bit more jumpy than usual, but well bonding moment or not his roomie was still a bit of a chicken wasn’t him?

“Hey.” He smiled at Kit.

Domenico stared toward the trophy case, following Kit’s eyes to a plaque. Novak? Ah right, he knew the guy, not deeply of course, but Harold’s Novak’s rags to riches story was exactly one that could pique the teenage boy fantasies. Deep down Nico dreamt to do the same, carve a place for himself in the world, the birthright that he had been denied. ‘Great guy.’

“Feeling like an idiot now, that guy must be your dad right?” He remarked enthusiastically. “Fuck I have always admired him you know?”

even though part of him was saying that nico was being nice, kit should be nice right back, a bigger part of him was exhausted, and cranky, and oh, now he says he’s sorry. “so you do know how to apologize.” but now that the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. “sorry, that was- uncalled for. it’s fine. i’m fine.” 

he turned his gaze forward, until he saw his father’s name staring back at him, and then he returned his gaze to his converse. his right shoelace was holding on by a thread; it’d break in two, soon, and he’d have to knot it together, like he had with his left shoelace. he turned back to nico for a moment when he spoke up, and kit gave an awkward shrug. “yep,” he admitted, trying not to look too outwardly annoyed, especially given his little outburst. “that’s my dad.” 

but, somehow, nico knew just the right thing to say to piss kit off. he couldn’t help it; he gave a harsh laugh. “yeah, sure.” god, he fucking hated that, whenever people would tell him how great his dad was, like they knew him better than his own son because they’d worked with him, or read about him in fotune or bloomberg or harvard business review. they only knew him as the pinnacle of the american dream, a testament to how far you could get with nothing but hard work and a little bit of luck. and kit had believed he was great for the longest time, because that’s what everyone said. kit spent his entire childhood having this great man tell him he was a failure, he was worthless, at this rate you’ll never amount to anything you don’t deserve to carry my name-. shaking his head, he said, voice dripping with sarcasm “i’m sure you do.”

[returntohorrorhigh]

Alex Wolff as Peter Graham in Hereditary