#augustinestarter

[theorothschild-blog]

théo: ditch ur plans let's go somewhere over the break

théo: beach or what the fuck ever

théo: u got ideas?

[alekjanik-blog]

A restless mind had him wandering down the halls, hopelessly searching for something that could serve as a break from his studies. It seemed to be all too common an occurrence these days, but one that seemed too difficult to put an end to. It was probably better to distract himself now and go back to his work later with a fresh take on everything -- if that were possible. His feet moving without much thought, Alek found himself out on the school grounds. It was a little chilly out and he definitely wasn’t dressed for the weather, but he was more than used to the cold air. Glancing around for a bench or anywhere at all that he could sit for the time being, his gaze landed instead on another student. Were they feeling just as aimless as he was, or was that wishful thinking? He could certainly do with some company if he was going to blissfully waste his time.

Graced with a friendly smile, the young man nodded over to them. “It couldn’t be that you’re skipping class too, hm?”

[pearl-renaud-blog]

Pearl leaned across the makeshift bar and repeated the order again, loudly and in English. She was being ignored, and not even subtly so-- the pair behind it snickered as they looked around her. It was her accent the first time she ordered, it wasn’t as pretty as the French they were used to hearing. She could hear them mocking it as they filled other orders, tequila sloshing onto the bar as they poured shots messily. They spoke English as well, they were Augustine students after all, but stubbornly refused to take orders in anything but French and Swiss-German. 

Finally ready to give up, she stepped back from the counter. Her place was easily filled in with another eager student. Turning to the body next to her, her red-painted lips were pursed in frustration. “I’m sorry to bother you. Would you mind if I you tacked on my order to yours? I was getting nowhere up there.”

[abeldewit-blog]

starter: open

The distance between where he grew up and Saint Augustine was less than a full days train ride but the weather might as well have been a completely different planet. Even the warmer months were no reprieve. Abel was not sure if he'd ever get used to it if he wasn't by now. To be fair he didn't usually don the typical down and hooded coats most other students typically wore on a day to day basis. His leather jacket, though soft and lined with only the best wool available, didn't really protect him from the elements. Why didn't he wear something over it than? Stubbornness? Idiocy? Both probably. If nothing else at least he fit the stereotype of the white boy trying to prove how tough he was by wearing climate inappropriate clothes.

In the dark it was worse. Even with the buzz of others surrounding him, and the hard liquor didn't keep out the biting temperature. Or perhaps it was the mood of those around him that was cutting through the air that made things bitter cold. Like always Abel just pretended like none of it bothered him, not the cold, not the things people were saying. In front of the majority of the Saint Augustine student body, the ones he pushed through to grab another drink, he was impassive.

When no one was watching? He couldn't help the flicker of unbridled anxiety that crossed his features before he brought a full bottle of his chosen drink to his lips. He couldn't help the oh so familiar lost fearful feeling he swallowed down with a burn. Well. He believed no one held witness to him experiencing these emotions at any rate, because like always call it being unperceptive or expecting things to turn out the way he wanted them to Abel missed any approaching figures. 

[kieranrowley]

In Kieran’s mind, the forest appeared to be looming over Augustine. It’s dark jagged shadow reached out over the campus, clawing its way towards the school as the sun set. He knew it was irrational; last year he would never had given it a second thought to the scene. But now, despite trying his damndest to suppress all memory of that night, the trees stood tall in his mind as a reminder. God, how melodramatic, he thought dryly.

Irritated by his own thoughts, he lifted the cigarette to his lips, only to notice he had let it burn down to the butt while lost in his thoughts. Hunching his shoulders slightly as a cold wind rolled across the campus, he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out the pack.  He hadn’t intended on remaining outside for so long, but he had felt too restless to huddle in the courtyard for a quick smoke. While he had intended to take just a brisk walk, he stood contemplative on the southern most walking path, eyes locked on the forest ahead. Numb fingers opened the pack to draw out another cigarette, but the sound of someone approaching made Kieran turn.

[basdecsey-blog]

OPEN.

At the end of the hallway, a collection of students stood around for an impromptu lecture. The professor at the center was charismatic and obsessed in equal measure with his subject and the students that stayed after class to hear more about it. For him to be cornered for half an hour was not unheard of. Yet, this particular instance stood out. Bastian noticed it as he was scoping out an empty classroom. From a distance, he had been observing the conversation with a puzzled expression. One of the girls was wearing a thick crimson scarf. Several people had their backs to him, a couple of others were sitting cross-legged on the ground, and bags had been abandoned on the ground.

He’s preaching, Bastian decided at length. Satisfied, he took out his camera, made the necessary adjustments, and prepared to take a picture. No one noticed. Through the lens, he watched for the perfect shot. Just as it happened — the moment that felt right, that felt worth possessing — someone entered the frame. They were close enough to reach, and his hand shot out to catch them by the sleeve.

“You’ve ruined it.”

“Look, they’re dispersing —” He let go of their arm to point at the end of the hall. The lecture was over, bags were being retrieved, and the magic of it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Bastian stared long enough to catch the eye of the professor before he departed, then turned to the intruder. 

“Well, it’s gone.” His disappointment was apparent. “You’ll have to replace it.” 

[sylvianneliu-blog]

sylv: this might be unexpected

sylv: but i think i just witnessed a crime

sylv: any idea what the protocol for reacting to art theft is

[jlnmoreau-blog]

He was hunched over a table in the dining hall, eyes bogged by brown bags, glasses hanging on for dear life at the tip of his nose. There was a muffin sat on a napkin in front of him, barely grazed; he’d found a raisin upon first bite, and almost cried then and there. Sleep had proven evasive for the past few nights. It wasn’t even due to late hours studying, which is what he wished he could claim — he’d stayed up into the wee hours re-watching In The Mood For Love for no reason other than what he could only deem self-sabotage. 

(A secondary reason, one he was much less keen to indulge: his nightmares had been especially vivid, with possible correlation to the rapidly approaching anniversary. Oh, joy.)

In true-blue Julien fashion, those thoughts were shoved far far back, and the feelings were redirected entirely onto the defenseless muffin sitting before him. He gave it an idle poke, glaring at it as though it had personally insulted him. 

“You want this?” He spoke up as someone passed in front of the table, and the grimace of despair was swiftly replaced with a weak-willed smile. Even in the throes of sleep-deprivation, he could still force a grin and light conversation. “I barely touched it, and I’d feel too bad letting it go to waste. Fair warning, though: it has raisins.”