-`ˏ INVICTUS ˎ´-

sylvia robin // nineteen transfer from ucd. i am the master of my fate, i am the captain of MY soul.

[moonlightsdream]

[sylviarobiin-blog]

oliverbaere:

“You know how my dad gets,” he says with a small chuckle, “It would do him more harm than good to come see me,” he continues, it’s true the amount of worry and stress it would cause the man isn’t worth it. “Plus I’m fine,” he adds, with a small smile, a small fib. His arm still hurts, but it’s not that bad so he’s going to put on a smile and push through it. “But laying in bed all day is just so boring,” he whines as he looks at Sylvia, “They wouldn’t let me go outside to watch the sunrise either!” he adds as his smile turns into a pout. “Visit? I was planning on not leaving until you’re discharged,” he says with a grin.

“I suppose,” the confusion never left her expression, though. Wouldn’t it do him some good to see his dad? Even if his dad worried (which, she knew he was inclined to), having family around in times like these was good... right? “I believe you,” she didn’t, “But maybe you should... take it easy. Or... easier than usual! I know you like to watch the sunrise, but, maybe use the time usually spent doing that asleep, instead-- you need to sleep to heal!” And then, because he was ridiculous and she loved it, she chuckled heartily and fixed him with a bit of a pointed look, “You’re just gonna camp out in my room, then, even though you’ve gotten freed? Sounds legit, Ollie.”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

@donnie-triton

“C’mere - How are you doing, Donnie?” Voice sympathetic, Sylvia could only imagine the other had been through the wars thanks to the earthquake. He didn’t strike her as the type to have handled it well, “You weren’t hurt, were you?”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

oliverbaere:

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he says with a small smile as he gently turns in the chair, so his arm is facing out. “I’ll have to make a point to stop by then,” Oliver says with a laugh, “My dad wanted to come up but I told him it wasn’t necessary,” he explains, he may have lied to the man about the extent of his injuries but he hadn’t wanted to worry him. “Well, that’s an interesting story,” he begins to explain as he takes a look around, making sure there aren’t any nurses within ear shot. “Technically I’m not even supposed to be out of bed, they said something about needing to be careful about moving my arm,” he says with a small one shouldered shrug. “But I think I’ll be free in a couple of days.”

“Why didn’t you want your dad to come down?” A little indentation appeared between her brows, confusion obvious, “Wouldn’t he want to be with you?-- Oliver, you got really hurt... why don’t you want him to be here for you?” She wasn’t surprised, but... for someone who took great comfort out of her parents being by her side during her many hospital stints, it confused her when others didn’t do the same. A little disappointed in him, but also pretty amused, Sylvia’s lips twitched and she shook her head, “You’re awful. I’d be more inclined listen to those nurses if I were you, Ollie-- you need to rest your arm.” Still, though, she kept her grip on his hand, and added a little more seriously, voice small, “You’ll come back and visit me if I’m not out, right?”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

oliverbaere:

“You gave me a real scare there Robin,” Oliver says with a smile as he slides into the chair next to Sylvia’s bed. With that, he kicks off his shoes before putting his feet up on the edge of her bed. He might seem carefree and relaxed, but on the inside he’s still freaking out. “So when are you getting out of here?” he asks her,  technically he hasn’t been released himself but no one will miss him. @sylviarobiin

"Like you didn’t do the same to me,” she tutted, all her words, every sound, quiet and croaky, every movement made a little slower by tiredness. If it were any other time, she might’ve shoved his feet off her bed and chastised him for even trying, but instead she just reached down and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly in one of her own. “I’m here for a few days, at least. Dad’s coming down tomorrow to ask more about what’s going on, though, so I’m going to try get him on board with convincing them to free me a little sooner,” even as she said it, she knew there wasn’t all that much chance. She could hear her father already - you’re delicate, Sylvia. “What ‘bout you? You’re not gonna leave me too soon, are you?”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

castorsilver:

Cas nodded his head, assessing the locations of the dorms. He could guesstimate where to open the portal, find the inhaler, and then be back in just a few minutes if he could find it quickly. And that was also assuming that wasn’t crushed among rubble. It was dangerous, sure. He had no idea what the dorms looked like. They could very well be collapsed completely, but if it was too dangerous he’d just portal back here. “No, no, I mean where. Exactly. What’s your dorm room building and number? And where in your dorm is the inhaler?” he asked, pressing for information. When he realized that perhaps it was strange he was asking, he fell back on the excuse he usually did. “I have teleportation as my power. I can’t teleport other people–” Or rather, it was too dangerous to bring them through the Void unless absolutely necessary. “But I can go ‘n get your inhaler and then bring it back here.” 

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t...” Didn’t what? Realize? She chose, instead of finishing whatever it was she might have said in addition to the apology, to close her eyes and think hard about her dorm room. She’d only just moved in and the number wasn’t quick to come to her... “The Dream House. Room, uh... one hundred and three, A. All my stuff-- inhaler, everything, is in a red bag under my bed--” she wasn’t even thinking how weird it was that he was asking, really, just trusting that he had a reason for it. Teleportation or anything similar didn’t even cross her mind, but no sooner had the explanation left him than her expression was brightening, her hope revived, “You’d do that?-- Thank you. Thank you, thank you-- I could kiss you, but, that’s weird, so I won’t, I’ll just-- I’ll think of a less weird way to thank you. Maybe a hug.”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

castorsilver:

Cas looked at the girl — who looked somewhat familiar, he’d thought the same thing when she’d gotten her crown and sash for the prom court — and his eyes widened. Did she have asthma or something? The dust in the air certainly wouldn’t help, nor would the stress and anxiety of the night. “Okay um–” He glanced around, wondering if perhaps anyone would have an inhaler. He doubted it. And if they did, it very well might be shattered underneath the debris. He could go and get one. He wasn’t technically trapped here, not like everyone else. His powers were functioning, as far as he was aware, and he could come and go as he chose. He chose to stay for Reese, and because bringing people through the portal with him was too dangerous. More dangerous than having them wait out their rescue here. An inhaler, however… “Do you know where it is? Like exactly where it is? Or where someone could get one?”

She hated that she couldn’t get up and do more. She hated that she was stuck, in a very different way to other people around her-- Sylvia felt completely useless, and it was not a feeling that she had ever really had before. She was unstoppable, she got up and she did things every single day which went against the idea that people (usually her parents), had of her... but she’d been stopped, now, and she couldn’t help but indulge in her own misery. Telling him what she needed had been more a sharing of her woes than it had been a cry for help... so, when he questioned her further, she finally looked up at him in confusion. The boy before her was... well, her first thought was not very tall. Her second was that he was very familiar in his short and seriousness, and though she couldn’t place whether that was because she had seen him being short and serious around or because of some other reason, she was inclined to answer without questioning why he was asking. “I need my specific one. I was going to ask, but--” another hacking cough, into the crook of her arm, and she decided to just finish that sentence with a helpless shake of her head and move on, “Mine is back in my dorm. I usually bring it, but I didn’t think I’d need it. I don’t factor the earth quaking into everyday life.”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

wesratcliffe:

“It depends on the interest. But I suppose I would,” he replied with a shrug. He couldn’t even act as if he wouldn’t care if someone criticized his interest. He was a defensive person by nature, even when it came to the smallest thing. Wesley glanced over at Sylvia upon hearing the seriousness in her tone, but he simply rolled his eyes at her question. “I don’t need to let my emotions out. I’m dead inside,” he deadpanned. 

“See! You can’t be a hypocrite, Wesley. It’s a very unattractive quality in a person,” so said she. Sylvia wasn’t being very tactful, nor very... nice, but, it wasn’t anything personal against Wesley. It wasn’t even intentional, really. “Really?” She blinked up at him in disbelief, her next words tumbling out without thought (like everything else), “I don’t think Michele would have liked you very much at all, if you were ‘dead inside’ like you say.”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

castorsilver:

The minute that the ground had begun to quake, Cas was in survival mode. With Reese at his side, the two dove under a table for cover, and thankfully that quick reaction saved him from most damage. He could feel some bruises forming on his knees where they’d landed harshly against the ground, but he was definitely lucky. The second thought that entered his mind was about Pollux. Was his brother safe? Was he alive? He was poised and ready to open a portal when he felt his phone buzz with a text from his brother, asking if he was alright. Relieved that his brother was okay, and that the most damage he’d had to deal with was some broken furniture and picture frames in their apartment, Cas set about checking on other people. 

“Hey–” he began, speaking gently to the person near him. “Were you hurt? Do you need anything?”

Sylvia wanted to help more people. After freeing Oliver, that was all she could think about-- getting up and going around like other students were, and helping-- so she’d tried, she’d gone to help... and she couldn’t, anymore. The dust was too much and the more portable tank she’d used, thinking it would be handier during prom, was running low, and her chest was only getting tighter and breathing more labored, the more she dashed around. Sylvia had hit a slump, finally, falling on a piece of the ceiling and using it as a chair as she took a series of breaths as deep as she could, letting herself cough, once, before forcing herself to stop when someone spoke up nearby. “I need an inhaler--” he wouldn’t have one, whoever he was, but he’d asked. All she was doing was giving him an answer, “I’m fine, I-- I got under a table, but I can’t...- I can’t breathe.”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

hermescarson:

“you’ve got to help me,” hermes states, as she finally manages to get someone’s attention. “i can not find delilah,” she tells them, the panic in her voice starting to set in, “one minute she was there and the next she was just gone,” she says her eyes widening, “i have to find her!” she says, her voice frantic as she waves her arms around.  suddenly hermes seems to take a turn as she stumbles forward, “i don’t feel so good,” she mumbles as she places her hand on the side of her head, only to pull it away to find a lot of blood, “oops.”

"Oh. Uhm. Hermes?” She’d only met the girl a couple times, in her bid for cheer, and seeing her so bloodied and hysteric was a little bit... well, it didn’t make it easy for her to think of what to do. Letting her the bag she’d been digging around in fall loose on her shoulder, again-- her tank was dangerously low, but she’d known that an hour ago and it didn’t matter, really, when Hermes was slumping forward-- she was just in time to steady the other girl, and begin trying to lead her off somewhere to sit, “You’re okay. Delilah’s okay, I’m sure of it, but you need to sit down. Okay? You have to sit down, now.”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

oliverbaere:

“I-i don’t know,”Oliver states, his eyes widening as Sylvia asks him if he wants her to move the debris. “It’s going to hurt,” he whispers as he looks up at her, “Won’t it?”he finishes his question, as he shifts his focus to his arm. “This is all my fault,” he mumbles under his breath, “Move it,” he finally answers as he looks up at Sylvia, “move it,” he cries out, “I need to get out of here,” he tells her as he locks eyes with her, “Sylvia you have to get me out of here.” The panic is starting to set in as he realizes that he can’t feel his arm, and that he is very much stuck. That mixed wth the overwhelming feeling of guilt is turning him into a nervous wreck. 

“Yeah, Ollie. It’s gonna hurt,” there was really no point in sugar coating it. His arm was trapped, and moving anything that was resting on it was going to be a sharp pain she couldn’t help... but it’d have to be done. The blame he was putting on himself fell on deaf ears because Sylvia’s only concern right now wasn’t what he meant or if there was truth to the statement, but getting him out-- which wasn’t going to be an easy task, and only got harder when he began to panic. Crawling round to rubble, quickly, her breaths coming in short little pants, Sylvia gripped one of the top, larger pieces, fixing him with a very stern gaze-- “Stay. Calm.” And then, she pushed-- it was infinitely easier than trying to lift would have been, and though it took a considerable amount of effort, she managed to get it to the floor. “One down--” she threw some of the smaller pieces away from them, not caring where they fell, “-- Keep trying to pull your arm out, Oliver. You have to-- it’s going to hurt, I’m sorry, but you have to suck it up, buttercup. You just have to.”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

wesratcliffe:

Wesley raised an eyebrow, lips quirking up in a smirk at the intensity of Sylvia’s reaction. “Well that was a very passionate response,” he remarked. “I can’t say I can think of anything, but I’m not the best at musical knowledge. I may have heard a song before, but it doesn’t necessarily mean I know the name or the artist.”

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t defend your interests as passionately?” She wasn’t even a self-confessed Selena Gomez fan, which was the ridiculous part of her argument. Sure, she enjoyed her music, but she couldn’t list off album names or tell you how old she was now she was out of her Alex Russo era-- it was silly to be bothered. “Wesley...” she began, very seriously, “... How do you survive in this world? Seriously. How do you let your emotions out, if you’re not crying to kill em with kindness? I’m concerned.”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

oliverbaere:

“Sylvia?” Oliver whispers as he opens his eyes, he must have hit his head when he threw himself on the ground because the world around his is dark. But after a few seconds, he slowly regains his vision as he turns his head to search for the girl. “Sylvia?” he finds himself crying out, as he attempts to situp before he feels an excoriating pain coming from his left arm, unable to help himself he lets out a loud scream as he sinks back. Turning his head, he’s able to see that his arm is caught under a piles of debris. Biting his lip, he gently reaches across his body and attempts to push one of the smaller pieces off, which results in another burst of sharp pain. Thankfully he doesn’t scream this time. 

“Sylvia?” he calls out again, this time there’s more panic in his voice. “I can’t get up,” he adds, his panic rising. He can’t get up, he needs to get up. If he stays there he’s a sitting duck for whatever might happen next. “I can’t get up,” he repeats, this time tears forming in his eyes. 

Finally, his voice reached her over the din of students beginning to panic. “Oliver!” The dust had yet to settle, but, Sylvia didn’t care-- hearing that note of sheer panic in his voice was enough for her to scramble out from beneath the table, the front of her dress pulled up to her mouth. It was a foolish thing to do without thought, she realized once she’d emerged... without his voice to guide her, she didn’t know where he had ended up. “Where did you--” she started, calling as loudly as she could and getting interrupted by him speaking again. He was a few steps from the table-- she assumed he’d thrown himself that way, when the ceiling had caved-- and it took her little time to get to his side, and only a little longer for her stinging eyes to adjust and see the situation he was in. “Ollie-” she cried, fabric dropped so she could hold tight onto his right hand while her eyes remained glued to his other arm, the one lost in the rubble, “Stay still, stay still-- I could... I can move it! Do you want me to? Is that okay? I’ll move it, and then...” And then, what? She didn’t know how much damage had been caused.. “You’re going to be okay, Ollie, I promise, but I have to move that. I have to move the debris...”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

oliverbaere:

Oliver’s face turns a bright red, as he closes his mother. He wasn’t even aware that he’d been gawking at her, but then again how couldn’t he? She’s beautiful. “Thanks,” he says with a small smile as he looks down at his suit, he isn’t used to dressing up. But he had a simple black suit in his closet, so he’d just gone out to by an emerald bow tie to match Sylvia’s dress. He doesn’t look nearly as good as her, but he’s not going to argue with her. “I know,” he says with a small smile, “I wanted to,” he adds as he watches her place the corsage on her wrist, “No problem,”he says with a laugh. “Now, let’s go,”he says as he offers his arm for her to take a hold of, “I think there’s a crown waiting for you,” he says with a chuckle, of course there’s one waiting for him as well but he’d rather not thinking about.

“You’re too sweet for me, Oliver Baere,” she tutted, giving him another tight squeeze before she pulled away from the hug she’d enveloped him in and smiled, hugely, up at him. “You keep that hand poised-- I just need one more minute!” Well... actually, it turned into five. Switching out her large oxygen tank for the portable one, that’d last her the night and fit in a backpack, was a little harder than she let on, and involved too much fiddling around to ever be done in that little time. Finally, though, she was pulling on her backpack and skipping to the door, wrapping her arm around his (he got major props, for keeping it up for so long), and, as they made their way down the corridor, yapping his ear off about how their crowns would probably be matching and they should totally wear them all the time -

“Ollie...” The immediate dust that had risen following the first ceiling chunks fall was too thick for her to see through, and, really, for her to breathe in. Sylvia had already brought the fabric of her dress up to her mouth in an effort to avoid breathing it in, but, even a little was enough to make her cough-- a cough that forced her to double over and quit, for a minute, searching for him in the space ahead of her. "Ollie-” she croaked, again, eyes watering, breath ragged, but still-- she was determined to find him, “Are you okay? Oliver... please...-”

[lisbugrph-deactivated20230311]

Giveaway prize for @michaclscofield

[sylviarobiin-blog]

sylviarobin: obligatory prom pic, before the big night! isn’t my date the prettiest you’ve ever seen? 

[sylviarobiin-blog]

catswillothewisps:

“Normally I would say cheerleading, but…if they didn’t take me, they probably won’t take you either. However, you look like a girl who enjoys reading, so maybe something like book club?” 

“Did you just...” Her brow furrowed, immediately. What did that mean? That because she wasn’t good enough, neither was Sylvia? “I’ll have you know I have every intention for trying out for cheer-- and signing up for book club, which I’d intended on doing without your kind suggestion--  and, if either of us were going to make the squad, I certainly hope it’ll be me.”

[sylviarobiin-blog]

wesratcliffe:

Wesley looked down at Sylvia with a raised eyebrow. “I can’t say I have any strong feelings about Selena Gomez one way or another. I certainly don’t hate her, but I lack enough knowledge of her music to form a solid opinion. Although…” His voice trailed off as he focused on the music. “If they’re all like this, I don’t see myself liking them.” 

“You take that back,” a little offended (mostly on Selena’s behalf), Sylvia gave a disbelieving shake of her head, “This is quality music, I’ll have you know. The beat is good, the lyrics are meaningful, it involves Kygo... what’s not to love, here? Are you telling me there’s something better we could be listening to?”