daybreakacademy

Entry tags:

[open]

Who: Kano & OTA
What: magic practice, pettiness, finals
Where: Lumière, greenhouse, library
When: mid-month, before finals
Warnings: self-harm for prompt i., none expected for the rest
Notes: details of Kano's new Fey Contract can be found on his app

i. Lumière dormitory rooftop
[ Fey magic is a really... terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. But Kano is determined to make it work, this new Contract that he'd forged a couple of days ago, but it's just so different from his usual illusion magic that he'd worked ten whole years to get to the point where he is now, illusions seamless and effortless compared to him staring at his arm right now wondering what he's doing wrong?

Because his arm is bleeding, a bloody knife on his lap while he pokes at the wound with his other hand and it just comes back bloody, him wincing because it hurts and why isn't the magic working? There's nothing intuitive about this at all, and he has no idea how he's supposed to make it work, with the magic supposed to be healing and dulling pain but it's just doing the opposite for him, the pain making it hard to keep a smile on his face, and making him feel like crying a little.

With a sigh, he waves hand over the bleeding cut instead of touching it, and it disappears— simply masked underneath an illusion, but it's still there while he tries to figure out how to do this, preferably before he bleeds out.

It won't come to it, though. He has three years worth of band-aids stocked up, and he knew they would be useful someday. ]

ii. campus, on the way to the greenhouse or inside
[ But you know what always makes up for terrible days? Even more terrible ideas to get your mind off previous ones. This one isn't that bad, though, because it's something that'll have positive long-term consequences. Probably.

Anyways, it's Kano with long sleeves and pants and winter gloves and the hood of his jacket pulled over his head and eyes and also a bandanna over the rest of his face so he can have as little skin showing as possible. It isn't all because of botched healing practice, though, it's because he's lugging around a three gallon plastic jug in his arms— you know, one of those large plastic containers twice the size of your head that you can buy cheese balls in, but instead of cheese balls, it's bees.

It's a jar full of bees.

He had to ship them to a PO in town and then lug them all the way back to campus; this insect purchasing restriction is really an awful pain. ]

iii. library
[ But also, anyways, it's almost finals and while Kano did surprisingly okay on his midterms, he's got to do slightly more okay on his finals too, because exam scored are literally all that's carrying his grades without the homework to pad it.

So the library it is... Books, his arch nemesis... Him, sitting at one of the open study areas with a stack of brand new text books in front of him that barely look touched, a mug of something on the table that's a dark dark red to the point that it's almost black and also has four tea bags sitting inside it that's steeped so long the tea is no longer steaming, and also hands clamped over his ears like he's trying to block out ambient noise, or massage away a headache, or give himself a headache so he can go hang out in the infirmary for the next two weeks and not do finals.

Why does Daybreak have to be a school??? Schools suck. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Hey, god? If you're up there, what did Mav ever do to you? He'd really like to know. What has he done to deserve a second infestation in his (admittedly less comfortable, now that there's another person there and all) home away from home? This infestation could even sting or kill someone, if they were allergic... He's pretty sure he's not allergic. He's not really looking to find out for sure, though.]

If you're trying to cancel fucking finals or get out of studying, it's not fucking gonna work.

[His voice comes from above, where he's lazily perched on something or other, book in hand and notebook in lap.

Gotta think bigger than that, cricket.

[ Canceling finals is a much better idea than distracting himself from finals until the very last minute until he's backed into a temporal wall and is forced into action. ]

...I knew I should've gone with hornets. Alright! Change of plans! I'm going to leave these with you, so...

[ Maverick's up high, sitting on whatever he's sitting on, so Kano goes ahead and underhand tosses the jar of bees up towards him—- light enough because it's just plastic and air and bees, but it's also plastic and air and bees coming at Maverick's face, and if Kano's lucky, Maverick might knock over his book and notes (please be school notes he can pocket) trying to catch it. Because he would not want to not catch it. ]

[Yep, definitely don't want to not catch it! Both the book and notebook -- full of colorful notes and some margin doodles -- go tumbling down while Maverick swears in six different ways. Eventually he's got it secured, as well as securing his grasp on forming sentences.]

Son of a fucking bitch, I'm gonna fucking put these in your pillow! And your fucking shoes!

[Also, like, that's just mean to the bees? They are now the ones silently monologuing at a god they aren't sure exists. Just wait until he gets down there!!!!]

Your food! Your fucking shower head!

Haha, good luck with that! Won't they just fly away?

[ Kano laughs, picking up the books and repositioning himself as directly below Maverick as possible, because Maverick can always drop the jar on top of his head depending on whether he hates Kano more than he respects the bees— and if that's the case, the jar popping open and releasing the bees will do as much hard to Maverick than it does Kano, both of them in the line of fire. ]

But aw, at least not the shower~ I'm sharing that now, don't you remember? Don't do that to some innocent kids~

[ Little ghost girl would probably make friends with them, though, idk ]

[Probably would, spooky kid that she is.]

Kids take baths, not showers.

[Or...something. This is just so he has something to snap back at Kano as he figures out how best to get down without hurting himself or dropping the container. Eventually he's back on solid ground and roughly shoving the jar back to Kano. Take your dumbass bees!!!]

How luxurious, I'm jealous~

[ He can't remember the last time he took a bath- felt safe enough to sit in hot water for over five minutes- but it's a nice post-apocalypse plan.

He watches without helping, but takes his jar of bees back once they're offered, because he paid a lot for the bees and he does still intend to use them. ]

Alright! Now that you're down here, you might as well walk with me! Come on, we're going to the greenhouse. I could use your buggy expertise~

I don't fucking have buggy expertise...

[But...Yeah, he's down here. Where are -- ugh, Kano's got his shit. If he didn't know he squirreled away everything he could, he'd be alright with having his stuff carried for him, but he realized the other day that he's missing his multitool because he never got it back in the junkyard, and Kano is just the worst. So he taps the back of his fingers against Kano's upper arm in a prompting way.]

My shit, please. Not like you're gonna use it.

[ Even a small tap like that has Kano flinching, out of proportion with how lightly he'd been touched because any harder or lower down on his arm, and he'd probably re-open that he never fixed properly more than just slapping five bandaids across it. ]

What shit?

[ He knows Maverick will give him a Look for that, but Kano's petty enough to think the jab is justified after that nudge, unintended as it was. But being a shithead is on par for how he is anyways, so he picks up the pace and walks faster away from Maverick so that if he wants his stuff back, he'll have to follow. ]

[Oof. The ignoring him combined with that sliiight slip-up there makes Maverick frown to himself after that expected Look he has to provide. It's not the greatest of plans, but...he squishes the guilt down to his toes, half-jogging to catch up with a,] Fucking said please and everything, fucker. Notes!

[...and reaches out to stop Kano with a tight grip on his arm.]

Fuck—-!

[ Again, he winces, but the sharp pain shoots all the way up his arm and into his shoulder with the way he's caught in Maverick's grasp, and for the split second where his heart jumps into his throat, his illusion breaks. Long sleeves hide the wound, but the smell of blood gets unmasked, sleeve suddenly warm and damp, and if Maverick has any reason at all to look at Kano's face and hands, the old scars show too— small cuts on the back of his hands, his brow, his chin, where the skin had scarred over paler than normal but easy to miss, especially with the way everything disappears again all at once while Kano grits his teeth and tries to get everything to Stop. ]

[...Yeah. The hot squish of fabric distracts him a second, but his eyes flick back up in an instant, and the one following that has him letting go. He got what he needed. More than that.]

Change of plans, cricket. Bees can be released later, we're going to my room.

[His tone is low and firm as he instinctively wipes his hand on his pants even if Kano's illusion masks the blood there as well, but it lacks a dangerous edge. As much as it isn't a threat, it also isn't up something that's up for debate.]

[ Every fiber of his being wants to protest, but those same fibers are also screaming that if he doesn't listen, Maverick could just grab his arm again and force him to, old memories floating back of how how obedient he used to be, stepping in line at the first sign of a raised hand or furrowed brow, and he hunches his shoulders into a shrug and tilt of the head for Maverick to lead the way- not that Kano doesn't know where to go, but with Maverick in front, he won't look at his face. ]

[He pauses for a moment, not wanting to turn his back on Kano and give him the chance to bolt, but...it wasn't like the other would be able to dodge him forever, and he'd like to think there's enough there that other...wouldn't. Having his trust would be nice, but he knows how big of an ask that can be. Maybe it's for the best that he show some trust of his own, first.

It makes him want to throw up just considering it, and uncertainty flashes across his face in the moment before he starts to head off...but he still slips his hands into his hoodie pockets and carefully slides his folded knife out so that it clatters to the ground behind him.]

[ He was doing so good, telling himself that everything will be okay if he just listens to Maverick and not make a fuss, but then that knife comes out and before he can help himself, Kano takes two large steps to the side, because that could not have been not on purpose. ]

Hey, Mav! You dropped something!

[Ugh. His insides twist together even harder, but he forces a slow breath so his voice can remain even. Not worried about not having his knife on him as a safety net, not worried about why Kano was bleeding and what it could mean, not worried about the immediate reaction the other boy had had. He glances behind himself, making it clear that he sees the knife before he shrugs it off.]

You've already got some of my stuff. Uh... Carry it for me, will you?

[ Ugh... It has to be on purpose, but he refuses to push it; if he just does what he's told, he won't have to explain anything, so he settles his face back to neutrality and picks the knife up in his hand, careful not to show any signs of shaking hands or hesitancy in touching the knife. Fuck knives, honestly.

He straightens up and sticks it in his pocket and Maverick is never getting this back either. ]

[Everything is awful in so many ways...but at least by the time they're back at the dorm, Mav has his breathing under control and is busy kicking himself wondering what the heck he's even going to say.

Instead of saying anything, once he's in his room and ensuring that Akechi isn't hanging around, he kicks off his shoes, slips off the hoodie, and wanders off to a cardboard box he still has next to his desk while giving a careless wave to his bed.]

Sit. Uh, the bees can chill with this asshole's ant farm, if you want.

[Where...is it... Okay. Out from the box comes the same first aid kit Kano had given to him on the daemon mission, though it's a little bit lighter, as well as some of his other supplies. Lastly, he grabs a packet of hot chocolate and offers it out. Have at it, cricket.]

[ The entire way here, Kano's not really sure what to expect, feet trudging more and more by the time they reach the dormitory— he could so easily slip inside his own room that they pass by and bar the door and refuse to come out, but the opportunity passes and they're inside Maverick's room and... Maverick's not immediately locking the door and yelling at him and Kano just stands there a little confused.

Maverick just looks like he's coming home and means to stay home, and Kano warily sits down at the corner of the bed and hugs the bees to his chest like it can protect him in some way, the buzzing in the jar matching the buzzing in his head and skin and existence.

He takes the packet of hot chocolate, but instead of asking for a cup of hot water to reconstitute it properly, or tearing it open and sprinkling it dry in his mouth, it goes into his pocket, not to come out again. ]

[Well. At least he'd taken it. Better than nothing. With a sigh, Mav plops himself down towards the head of the bed, giving Kano ample space but keeping him within reach, if he tries. Ideally the gap will close naturally...but there's nothing natural about any of this, is there? He pops the kit open, flicking through various supplies without giving Kano another look.]

Let's see it. Whatever's open. [Nothing else, for now. He can give him that.]

[ There's absolutely nothing natural about it, and Kano shifts a little away from Maverick when he's got that med kit open, dread creeping up from the base of his skull that tells him that he shouldn't hide his arm —but also that he can't count on Maverick to be like Minako and Ellie were to him, somebody who would help patch him up and maybe tell him off for getting himself hurt, but not ask too much about whys and what happeneds.

Even now, he just really wants to hide it, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt (and bleeding a little on Maverick's bed, sorry, restricting his upper arm might not have been the smartest idea) and, at the last minute, changes the shape of the wound so that it looks smaller and more like an accidental stab than what's very clearly the long, neat line of somebody dragging a blade over their own arm. ]

Here, I'll trade you the bees. I can do it myself.

[ At least the whole bandaging thing, so long as he has the proper materials for it— it's a little harder to get these, though, more than asking Ekkehardt for something innocuous as bandaids— is something he's learned how to do and is accustomed to. ]

Fuck off.

[He's not nursing material, or anything, but he's had enough experience patching up his own scrapes and taking care of new, healing piercings and tattoos that he's confident he can handle this much. Besides...it would be easier with two hands.]

Unfun part, first, cricket. Let's get it cleaned. Might sting, but that's less of a bitch than that shit getting infected.

[A warning seems...best. Never knew what was obvious to this idiot, really. Heeere comes the antiseptic...]

You fuck—- OFF!! [ UGH.

FUCKING shit stupid magic school can't make an antiseptic that doesn't sting like all hell, his piece of shit illusion magic not working when he's too busy trying not to scream his head off and the wound opens up to its original deep long weeping cut, all along his arm those faint signs of old wounds that never healed right, that don't go away even after he smacks that antiseptic wipe away and yanks his arm back and clamps his hand down on that cut, because fucking work, Fey magic, why isn't it working the way it's supposed to do, the one time he needs to feel absolutely nothing, not the burning of his arm or the burning behind his eyes that drop his gaze to the mattress and blurs, especially not the burning at the back of his mind that edges on full blown panic in the context of his strongest defense mechanism being broken down in front of him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should have gone to Avery. Avery doesn't ask questions, he doesn't care. ]

[In different circumstances -- if Kano was acting out of pure pride instead of panic -- this might have been funny, or he might have been able to laugh it off to separate himself from that feeling of icy fingers closing around his throat and making it hard to breathe again. Closing his eyes, he forces a slow, full inhale, and holds it. Methods he fucking hated and trashed all through the previous years because he was already breathing and it didn't do shit, and he was fucking fine anyway, fuck off, but in the privacy of his own room, next to...a friend... Okay.

He folds a strip of gauze and holds it out. Hold this against the cut instead, stupid. ...Ah, That was meant to be said out loud. Oh well. Hopefully Kano gets the idea without condescending instruction.]

[ He would have preferred being made fun of, in all honesty, more than silence and unreadable thoughts and uncertain gestures like this piece of gauze that Maverick hands to him and he takes, also digging out a handful of bandaids from his own pockets and uses his hand and teeth to tear open a couple and slap them down on the edges of the gauze like pieces of tape, and then he rolls down his sleeves.

Jumps to his feet, grabs his jar of bees, and forces himself to smile with his own facial muscles instead of with an illusion. ]

Alright! Thanks for the help. I'm going to go now.

[ His voice, when it's not being artificially cheerful, is quiet and weak but whatever. He's going to run away. ]

[ -- does he really think]

Sit. Your ass. Down. Cricket.

[He's got this whole damn kit out and started getting things prepared, and this stupid jerkface thinks he can slap shitty bandaids on it and call it a day?]

No wonder you've never fucking healed properly... [It's more of a grumble than anything, but he's moved to the edge of the bed to show that if Kano tries to leave, he's getting hunted down. He had been trying!!!! to be nice!! and now that was ruined, ugh, but he'd been messing with a short fuse.] Would you just stop being a dumbass for ten fucking minutes?

a little bee-t of everything

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