#letroadecstart

[charbroussard]

Starter | OPEN

Tillie had assumed that she would leave class with answers, but all that has filled her mind since that day are troubling, wild questions. She supposes she had been foolish to be excited about any of this. and perhaps even naïve. They had all gone looking for some proof, and now they had surely found it. But the weight of the situation had finally settled over her and any feelings she'd had before of interest or excitement had been replaced by fear and horror. There was still a part of her that was convinced it was all a sham - a trick of the light. Maybe Dom had fooled them well. Maybe they had all experienced some collective folie à deux. Anything would be better than to admit the implications of what they had seen. She has tried for days to forget it all, but this electric poke or recollection persists and she is shocked at her center, wound up in the spot like a toy and unable to settle down.

She had dreamt of the frog for two nights now, its limp body suddenly becoming animated in Dom's confident hand. Mostly, she thought of the gasping croak it made. She could've sworn that just before it jumped away that it gave her a confused look...

After another sleepless night she begins an aimless stroll around the campus. Her body moves automatically forward, searching for some place that might allow for respite. Her room was a no - she had spent far too much time inside of it and somehow the space had started to feel like an amphitheater for her thoughts. Baker Hall was busier and louder, but there were too many eyes around to witness her anxious demeanor. Her feet bring her to the library, seemingly the only space that ever brought her any sense of peace. She doubts she will find peace today, but it is worth trying. She paces the empty aisles, fingers lazily grazing the book spines as she recounts under her breath everything that she saw in French class. It was an attempt to prevent her from forgetting it. Mostly, she hoped that if she repeated it enough times it would sound so ridiculous that she could convince herself that it never truly happened in the first place. She is deep in her mantra when she spots another member of her French class. Briskly and quietly she walks over to them, grabbing their arm and pulling them into an empty section. "So are we just going to pretend like that wasn't completely insane?" She whispers harshly, peeking over her shoulder and theirs to make sure no one was listening.

[emmettxclermont]

open //

The thought of being seen at a school dance made Emmett want to vomit. Why did Professor König have to assign their attendance as extra credit? Of course, Emmett was going to take advantage of that, but why the dance? He would have done an extra five papers if it meant he could have skipped it. So, as a way to combat his nerves, he put back an entire bottle of Merlot in the entirety of the time he spent getting ready, which was about fifteen minutes. He arrived in Baker Hall fashionably late to find that the room was full of people. The music, the decorations, the lights - it was all a great distraction for his hazy mind. However, his mouth needed to start smelling less like alcohol, so he made his way to the bowl of punch. After serving himself some, he turned, unexpectedly coming face to face with someone familiar. “Shit! Jesus. You scared me.”

[charbroussard]

open //

Tillie stumbled down the old corridors of Le Troadec with a hazy mind and a belly full of liquor. It wasn’t like her to openly be in such a state, but she figured the circumstances more than justified her behavior. School functions made her nervous. In the three years she’d been at her university she managed to avoid them. She much preferred the safety and quiet of her room, where small talk and dancing were not a requirement. She thought she’d be able to make it to the end of her fourth year without giving in. But here she was, spending her Friday night in a dress she hated, succumbing to the fear of missing out on extra credit. 

She’d assumed the alcohol would calm her nerves, but in truth she felt the same amount of anxiety. Though, now, she was a bit more willing to dance if the music was acceptable. Tillie takes a swig of the alcohol again, wiping her chin with the back of her hand as she makes her way towards the event. She doesn’t know who the flask belonged to. Having stumbled upon it while sitting on a bench in the SLUG earlier today, she decided to keep it. What were the odds that the universe would give her exactly what she needed to get through the night? She wasn’t going to pass it up, that was for certain. Upon opening it, she couldn’t tell what the dark liquid was sloshing around in the container. However one whiff clarified that it was rum. It’s so strong she almost gags, and when she takes a sip it burns her throat. But it’s all she’s got, so she doesn’t complain.

The swing of the music guides the girl to Baker Hall. She’s dreading seeing the familiar faces of her peers, but she feels a few sips braver than she did before. After taking one last discreet swig, she reaches into her purse to hide the flask. But in the brief moment where her eyes neglect the view ahead, her body knocks into someone else. Her feet don’t quite catch up and she’s falling forward before she has the chance to stop herself. A desperate hand clutches the other person’s arm to avoid crashing into the ground, but her flask flies out of her grasp and slides a few feet away in the process. “Shit-” She whispers sharply. She wants to shout a thousand insults, but she knew that her mouth wouldn’t work as fast as her brain wanted it to. She also knew that this mess was probably her fault. Realizing her hand is still clutching their arm, Tillie releases and stands up straight as quickly as she can, restoring her balance. “Um watch out?”

[daejungpark]

open // dae&...

Magic. Witchcraft. All of this was floating around his head, he couldn’t seem to discern what he knew to be fact versus fiction. Surely Candide was a good enough indication that perhaps the previous notion that unexplainable things in this world could be explained. What else could be explained with this knew expansion of knowledge? Now was no time to ponder, now was the time to find answers. Dr. Koenig mentioned that he was going to be bringing in books for them, but that was a week away. And the knowledge was beckoning.

Dae decided to reach out to his classmates in his advanced French course to see if any of them would be interested in doing some reading on their own terms. Perhaps they could come up with a list of questions, maybe some instances where magic could have been involved. He hardly even understood what the different kind of witches could be, or their practices. But he was caught up with his work for the rest of his classes, and he only wanted to dedicate his free time to this. He had set up his study spot in the back corner booth at Joe’s, figuring that people wouldn’t be able to hear more than murmurs from the table. He was a little nervous that no one would show up of course, but his head perked up as one of his classmates entered the diner, waving them over to him.

[meredith-la-magicienne]

It seemed like a good idea.  Meredith likes poetry.  Meredith likes Topped Off.  In theory, then, Meredith should like Poetry Night at Topped Off.

In practice, she does not.

She’s not miserable at all; she just isn’t exactly enjoying herself.  The mostly freshmen who step up to read their work are courageous, she thinks, but not good poets.  Not yet.  With time, perhaps some of them will be, but at the moment, it is all too easy to tell exactly what was just covered in Lit 101, and their desire for depth and resonance comes across so much more clearly than any actual emotion.  Occasionally, someone better takes the stage with something more interesting, but not often enough to convince Meredith she wouldn’t be better off at home with a book and some form of alcohol.

The most recent brave soul steps off the stage in the corner and Meredith smiles and applauds and waits to make sure they aren’t looking in her direction before she turns to her companion and pouts, “This would be better with wine.”