subconmodo: (H - FML)
The Snatcher ([personal profile] subconmodo) wrote in [community profile] daybreakacademy2019-02-26 03:26 pm

Avery No. [Open]

Who: Avery, open -- will match tagging format
What: Avery goes about his days. And ends up in the infirmary by the end. Again. 
When: After midterms, before An Icy Reception. Flexible with timelines. 
Where: The library, Avery's office, the infirmary,
Warnings: Prompt B and its responses are likely going to reference injury, trauma, and a yandere ex. Will update depending on how the threads go. Please contact me if I miss any warnings and I'll get things corrected.





A. Sweet Dreams - Library

Deep in the darkest depths of the library, surrounded by old legal texts and new fantasy novels, you might be lucky enough to find a rare creature.  Perhaps one you didn't even think existed.

Mouth open and head tilted back, Avery sits spread out comfortably on one of the armchairs, larhe thermos of Hell Concoction half-drained and unattended.

At least sleep caught up with him in a place that makes sense. 



B. Sour Nightmares - Library, after Héctor is de-Hollow'd

Despite his stubbornness, Avery finds himself dragged deep by the cold hands of slumber.  He's been avoiding it for awhile now, ever since that whole incident with Héctor had dragged him back into nightmares he had thought long forgotten.

It's been years since he dreamed of iron and blood, of the candles burning down to waxy stubs until he was left in darkness, of his throat burning from unheard screams.  The demon doesn't come in these nightmares.

No one does. Not even her.  And little by little the last of his strength fades away, and he can hear the rats skittering toward him, eager to feast upon what meager flesh is still on his bones. 

He wakes up in the library with a start, wild-eyed and drenched in a cold sweat. He feels something around his neck and before he can fully grasp that it isn't, in fact, made of metal, Avery has practically ripped his cravat to shreds, the remains tossed away.

There's light.  Electric light.

It's warm. 

He's surrounded by bookshelves, not dirty stone.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, eyes shut as he tries to slow his breathing.  The last thing he needs is for someone to see him like this--vulnerable, weak-- and yet here they are, the unmistakable spark of a soul on his senses. 

The world is all but growled. A threat within a question. "What?"



C. Accio Office Hours! - Avery's office

Anyone who happens to be walking by Avery's office, whether to visit him personally or just on their way to or from another teacher will catch him staring intently at a variety of fruits spread out across from him at the far edge of his desk.

He frowns in concentration and holds out his hand, a lemon seeming to fall into the desk until it appears again in his hand in a puff of purple smoke.

"Ugh. I was going for the apple."



D. why are you like this - Infirmary

Avery had stepped into the classroom grinning like the cat who got the cream.  If that cat were exceptionally sick, shaky, and pale.   He had just enough time to have his first set of students collect his midterms and inform them that they were graded in blood (along with a wish for them to sleep well tonight) before he finally collapsed and had to be taken to the infirmary.

For the second time this month.

And yet, for a man who's lost quite a bit of blood,  he seems to be in good cheer.  He probably shouldn't, but he is.  His new pen is so cool you guys.

((NOTE: if the whole blood thing makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to have your characters' midterms be graded in ink. He can always have started that way and switched to being edgy partway through))
inflictwounds: (pic#12855787)

d;

[personal profile] inflictwounds 2019-02-26 11:29 pm (UTC)(link)
At this point, Hieke isn't surprised when people are dragged into the infirmary unexpectedly. He might be a little disappointed, but everyone at this school seems hell bent on making their own lives as miserable as possible by getting into danger they can't handle or working themselves to the bone.

Or, in certain cases, using magical pens that write in blood.

At least Avery seems to be feeling good emotionally.

"So...you said it was a pen that did this?"
inflictwounds: (pic#12855777)

[personal profile] inflictwounds 2019-02-26 11:46 pm (UTC)(link)
If it's any consolation, he's not the one likely to take it away from you.

"...How does it work?" He's no pen wizard, he doesn't know how the magic of this thing functions, but he is intensely curious about it.
spelleton: with my bones (☀ and build on the pyres)

d..................

[personal profile] spelleton 2019-02-27 12:09 am (UTC)(link)
What, again?!

[ Congratulations, he actually raised his voice at you, even if it's a minuscule amount. That's an accomplishment. ]
inflictwounds: (pic#12855782)

[personal profile] inflictwounds 2019-02-27 12:21 am (UTC)(link)
That's...

Hieke takes a moment to just stare at Avery. He doesn't know how to work, but he used it anyways. Of course he used it anyways.

"Why didn't you stop before you passed out?" He puts his hand to his chin. "Surely you felt the effects before it got that bad."
spelleton: (☀ from a treacherous start)

[personal profile] spelleton 2019-02-27 12:22 am (UTC)(link)
[ He resists the urge to slap his hand down because that's not professional, and decides to just get on with diagnosis instead. ]

How did you lose this much blood in a short amount of time. From a pen.

[ His voice is flat. ]
Edited 2019-02-27 00:22 (UTC)
inflictwounds: (Default)

[personal profile] inflictwounds 2019-02-27 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
"I think the fact you passed over it will just make it all the more horrifying." There's a pause, as he considers it. "Or they're going to be more concerned about you."
spelleton: (☀ like a moth to the flame)

[personal profile] spelleton 2019-02-27 12:34 am (UTC)(link)
I wouldn't say collapsing from blood loss is great in any sense of the word [ he says 'great' like other people might say 'disgusting' or 'awful' ] but I suppose we have different perspectives.

You were grading midterms with your own blood. Is that right. [ It's hard for Ekkehardt to sound any more unimpressed than he already is, but he's managing somehow. ]
eudaimonikos: (and in the end if I don't)

B

[personal profile] eudaimonikos 2019-02-27 01:27 am (UTC)(link)
I'm reading a book, chill out.

[Michael is, in fact, poking around the shelves. Because it's a library. Not that he didn't witness that or anything, but - well, what does he care? He doesn't need to pinpoint weaknesses in the other faculty members, and that may in fact be discouraged!]
inflictwounds: (pic#12855781)

[personal profile] inflictwounds 2019-02-27 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
"I try to be as understanding as possible. But as the person in charge of making sure our staff stays as healthy as possible, maybe next time take more breaks between grading?" He smiles at him cheerfully. "That way you might be able to see their reactions next time."
spelleton: deep inside (☀ laden with monstrous souls)

[personal profile] spelleton 2019-02-27 01:42 am (UTC)(link)
Why.

[ Sometimes Avery stresses him out more than half the children here. ]
redcarmen: (uhhh what)

c;

[personal profile] redcarmen 2019-02-27 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ Carmen is one of the fore-mentioned "on her way somewhere else" people. She has to pause at that display of power, becaaaaause what, dude?

Don't mind her staring from the door. Just your usual TA passing through. ]
redcarmen: (what you say)

[personal profile] redcarmen 2019-02-27 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
As a matter of fact... [ She pauses, a little more comfortable now that she's being addressed instead of awkwardly looking. It gives her something to focus on. ] ....no.

Is that what you're doing, then? Summoning?
spelleton: where to fly (☀ i speak to birds and tell them)

[personal profile] spelleton 2019-02-27 02:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ekkehardt just kind of drags a hand down his face for a second.

Why...why are you like this...
]

You know, Atchison, it constantly amazes me how literal centuries of existence don't seem to have had any positive, tangible effect on your decision making skills.
eudaimonikos: (moral agency)

[personal profile] eudaimonikos 2019-02-27 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
I tend to come here in the off-hours. Helps to avoid students, and I don't sleep anyway.

[He'd actually ask after it - is it entertaining? Worth trying out? But the current answer seems obvious. Michael may not sleep, but he's versed in inflicting nightmares.]
unpocoloco: (Flinch back)

B

[personal profile] unpocoloco 2019-02-27 04:16 am (UTC)(link)
He was never much one for hoodies. It wasn't that he was formal-- despite his dress he tented to look like a slouch even before homelessness-- they just didn't suit him, always making him look as though he was drowning in fabric. He sees the appeal now. He'd like nothing more than to disappear.

What he's grabbed instead is a grey and grungy old fabric, something pulled out of a store room with enough balling lint it might look like it was textured so on purpose. He hauls it around himself, donning it like a cloak or veil. There's less people at night, less questions to be asked, and eveything that's has added up just enough that he'd rather be caught dead than deal with even trying to fake life more than he had to. But maybe leaving the room at all was a risk if this was what was going to happen.

He'd been approaching slow when Atchison suddenly roused in a panic and tore at his own neck. The cravat tore and he'd stumbled back, stepping on his own makeshift cloak and revealing his skeletal face. He suspects Avery didn't see him, backed into a bookshelf, but he apparently senses him. He can guess how now all too easily. The thought makes him want to run.

Instead, a croak comes from him. "Señor Atch... Avery?"

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