smash_logs | I Don't Have a Title for This: The Log

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I Don't Have a Title for This: The Log

Who: Smash's Empath (Voile), and People
What: A catch-all of catching things.
When: Jan. 26 ~ Feb. 09
Where: Beneath the cut will tell you all.
Warnings: ~~If you're the unlucky victim, you may have to dodge things that are thrown.~~ Uhm. Probably not? Will update as necessary.

From an outside standpoint, Voile had a thought to commend herself. It took dedication to keep away from the other eyes of the academy and the town. It took some form of commitment to willingly hole one's self up in a room. But she wasn't about to sing of it with pride for there was never any good reason to deliberately decline from speaking to others. It was less that she had wanted to worry them and more that she believed if she began to speak - truly - that she'd lose the composition she was so accustomed to portraying and conveying.

She had lost it once already, with Marie during the power outage. She would not do so again.

Cammy, the ever thoughtful, had been Voile's one consistent companion. While the gardevoir hadn't said much, she hadn't wanted to worry the pretty blonde either and by the extent Voile went to 'protect' herself, she was pretty sure that wasn't happening. But she still carried on conversation - when she carried on conversation. And most of Voile's time during the day was spent reading, writing, polishing the charms on her ribbons, and sketching out designs for what would soon be either a costume for one of Seth's host club gatherings, or the soon-to-come contest hall.

At night, she crept out of the shared dormitory, visited the showers and the student kitchen, and occasionally seemed pleased enough to sit in the rec room and enjoy some peace and quiet without the concern of having to avoid unwanted faces in the halls or the classrooms, or anywhere else she might have ventured off to. So in a way, Voile had easily become more a creature of the night.

[Famous OoC Notes.
♦ Know those office logs we sometimes have? This works like that. Pick a time, pick a day, pick a location. I will work with it!
♦ Action or prose, your choice!
♦ This log may contain soy beans, various forms of toast, a flock of dove birds, bottles of pinot noir, elf ears that are not attached to elves, wildflowers, and overly curious crustaceans. This log has been manufactured in a plant that processes peanuts and may contain oil or other allergens.

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Having been gone for so long meant many things. Having packed up everything he had and vanishing entirely was a hefty burden, but more immediately it meant that Cyrus had nothing in his refrigerator upon his return.

Which meant the glorious return of the murky, sinister drink that smelled like swampwater and was known to stain sinks.

But alas, the kitchen available to staff lacked all required ingredients. Well, ingredients that would be found in a kitchen, anyway. Some would have to wait until the chemistry lab was accessable.

So Cyrus was in the student kitchen one night, a sack with some suspicious-looking vegetables sticking out of it (one of them bearing a disturbing resemblance to parts of an Oddish), when the door opened.

It was a good routine she'd gotten into, the one where she ate in her solitude, took her time to think, consider, wonder, and look back on her own memories. So nostalgia, really. The peace was something she needed, especially considering the potential issues with Seth, her own position in relation to him - though nothing had been proven yet. There was also the predicament regarding Sable, the sub-human versus human issue again. She'd missed it the first time, fortunately, but she wasn't lucky enough to miss it a second.

The very thought made her reach for her cell phone, the still mostly foreign luxury to her. She hadn't really used it for much of anything except for text messages since she'd shut herself up with Cammy. She eyed it briefly, one hand on the door to push it open and as she was lowering it to tuck it away again, she blatantly paused.

Oh, dear gods. What have I done to make you spite me so?

And just like that - as it had taken exactly one look - she tried to hastily close the door. And better yet, to hold it closed. Should hold him captive until I can get the Headmaster. Should make the motion that he be removed from campus. Why is he here, anyway? But she knew the concept of her physical strength couldn't compare. When he was getting ready to leave, inevitably he'd be able to pull the door open.

So perhaps that meant she was supposed to back to her dormitory. But she wanted to eat...

And the door immediately shut.

This led Cyrus to a handful of conclusions. The first was that someone had simply opened the wrong door, but that would be a difficult mistake to make. The second was that whoever it had been had seen him and wanted to avoid him, be it him specifically or another person in general.

It hadn't closed normally though. Whoever it was had pulled it shut, leading Cyrus to believe that someone was avoiding him in particular.

A few names came to mind, but first he would investigate. Weavile approached the door, trying to tug it open again.

He was quick. Quicker than she thought he'd be. One grasp on the handle and she looked around, wondering if she could find a way to quickly... Well. Escape. And there was no way she could do so without letting herself be seen. So much for avoiding him, after all. Clearly it was karmic retribution for some reason.

So she did allow the door to open a peep, just enough to see Cyrus' weavile. And with the furrow of her brow, she chose telepathy rather than her voice. Just so the ethics professor from her past would be none the wiser. Provided weavile didn't rat her out. Why would it anyway? He, she thought. She was pretty sure the weavile was male.

Say nothing to him of me. I will wait until you two have finished your... scavenging and return later.

Which really meant she'd hide in the shadows, despite the way she really didn't like the dark.

Weavile nodded, scampering over to its master and miming throwing punches.

"Ah, Knuckles, was it? That is unsurprising." A brief pause, as the man shoved a leaf of kale into the bag. "I have what we came for. Let us be off."

And he made to leave, right into the hallway.

She sighed with relief, though attempted to keep it to herself when she heard Cyrus on the other side of the door. Backing away from it, and casting another look around, she turned and scattered to the closest corner that she could hide behind. But it didn't stop her from peering around the edge so she could see when they left. The idea wasn't a poor one, but considering there were gardevoir assets she couldn't get rid of, she imagined she was a bit more obvious than the average human.

Except she wasn't human.

I owe that weavile a few thank you's, I think, she thought, giving a small smile.

"--first part of such an idea," Cyrus was heard to mutter. It seems that he had already been talking. And from the looks of things, Weavile had heard it before. "Health is linked to many things, and the consumption of foods the brain finds pleasing is among them. Of course, we must consume only the most healthful things, so we--"

Blah blah blah. How long could a man expound about a swampy energy drink? He sounded like a Vulcan infomercial.

She cocked an eyebrow as she listened. You haven't changed a lick, I see. Still obsessed with the same ideas and the same future that won't come to pass. That poor weavile. She couldn't imagine how often he must have heard that. The whole concept made her raise her left hand, only for the sake of drawing it down her face in silent exasperation.

Yes. If she had to deal with him, then the least he could do was actually... grow up a little. And that was evidently too much for her to expect.

At the door to the hallway, Cyrus paused. Someone was around; Knuckles probably. He glanced down at Weavile before concluding that there was no danger, and continuing on.

When he stopped, she actually squinted. Go on. Then even knowing it'd do no good at all, she lifted her hands and made the universal motion for 'shoo.' As long as she didn't stay there the entire night, she'd have the opportunity to actually eat something, and then return to her room and come up with a new plan.

Maybe she could start asking Cammy to bring her food...

As its master walked out of the hallway, Weavile looked back at the Gardevoir. It knew what she had meant to Cyrus, and seemed to hesitate following him away.

It was Weavile's reluctance to follow so quickly behind that made Voile frown a bit. She was still a pokemon, despite how often she masqueraded as a human. She was still hardly any different from him and in that respect, she felt some guilt having him help her. But it looked... perhaps a mite, as if he had something he wanted to tell her.

Quite likely a chiding for my hiding, which she would have found amusing in any other situation. You don't have to stop on my account...

If Voile was becoming a creature of the night, she might find herself in unexpected company.

Another creature of the night was out and about this evening. Specifically in the common room. He was sitting in the dark ~~like a total creeper~~ brooding. Because that's what he spent a lot of time doing. Jon was a brooder.

The state of the city had him in a pit of worry. Not really for himself, but for the few people he cared about. His few friends and his partner were his main concern. He knew nothing would happen to them on school grounds, of course, but he couldn't stop them leaving. He couldn't even suggest they stay put without giving too much of himself away. For as much as he cared... well. They didn't need to know how much, did they?

As he sat, uselessly contemplating all of this, his nose twitched. Someone was approaching at this late hour? Soft footfalls on thick carpet might as well have been gunshots to his sensitive ears. He closed his glowing red eyes and wondered if they'd be stopping in for long - he had a lot of angry moping to do.

Bulba could not say that he and Voile were very good friends. They were not. He surprisingly found her company very enjoyable, when they had it, considering everything. She was very kind in a way that sometimes, if thought about it very hard, reminded him a little of himself.... But who could say for sure? They did not hang out very often. There was a lot about Voile that was a mystery to him, and from their very first meeting under the cherry blossoms, he figured that was probably how she liked it.

They were not very good friends, but he would call her a friend regardless.

So when it became apparent that she was "missing," Bulba took notice. He noticed it before when there was a lack of her in the halls, but at first it was not alarming. When it persisted, he started to worry, and getting Bulba worried is probably the last thing anyone wants to do. Many people could tell you this. He reached max high persistence when he was worried.

AND SO. A KNOCK ON HER DOOR CAME ROUND ONE AFTERNOON FROM YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD GIRLS' RA.

Someone new had joined the ranks of night dwellers, and they were not anyone that belonged there. As quiet and as sneaky as Voile no doubt believed she was being, she was actually doing a miserable job. There was too much about her that flowed. Her hair, her skirts, her entire presence. She was someone that didn't know how to be quiet.

Then again, there were very few that did. At least when Izzy was listening. (And she was always listening.)

So one night when the Gardevoir probably thought she was all alone and content in the rec room, she wasn't. An ugly stick of a girl had just dropped down in front of her (from the... ceiling...?????) and was looking... somewhere. Sort of. In Voile's direction.

"'Sup, toots."

She had only been interested in eating. Because it was nearly impossible to get to the student kitchens without running into to people along the way during the day. Not that she disliked people, because she didn't, but it was important that she knew how to keep herself calm and she was immensely concerned that she wouldn't be able to hold onto that discipline of hers.

So she had shown herself in, careful and quiet, dainty and gentle in nature. Likely not someone or something Jon had expected. And while she had seen the man in passing, she wasn't sure she'd even crossed paths with the wolf side of him. Where and when seemed to matter very little, however, and instead she only found herself pausing when she even remotely sensed his presence.

And from that moment, she moved far more cautiously, as if she was attempting to feel for something. Fortunately, the brooding sentiment was easily captured. "...Hello?" she asked, knowing very well it wasn't simply the air she spoke to.

She had her face in a book. It was one of her more comfortable moments. She could think and Voile prone to giving too much thought to most things. As of recent, it was a tie between issues in the town, the lollipop fiasco, and a certain turtle who had dominated a good chunk of her thoughts.

And it was the last one that she liked thinking about the most.

The knock on her door could have been anyone, actually. And being fully aware of that, she was apprehensive to open it so easily. So rather than pulling it open and greeting the other person on the other side with a typical cheerful and bubbly Voile expression, she spoke against the door.

"Who is it?" she asked, trying to sound more guarded than pessimistic.

It was the voice that caught her by surprise. She'd not heard it so specifically geared towards her, but she'd heard it at least in passing. Or so she'd thought. It was certainly a unique sound, but to be fair, it wasn't the tone that caught her by surprise. It was the idea that someone had found her - that she had disturbed this certain someone.

If she'd been eating something, she would have choked on it. And though she hadn't been eating, she still managed to choke. On the air. As she tried to get over her massive amount of surprise, which seemed to be something that wouldn't happen anytime soon.

"...Toots?" Voile asked, as if that was clearly the most important part of the conversation. Not that someone else was with her. Just simply that she had been called 'toots.'

The choke did not go unnoticed. It actually tugged Izzy's somewhat lewd grin a bit wider.

"Yeah. Toots. 'Sup."

"I... didn't see you there," Voile sheepishly admitted. But it was obvious and quite clearly she was being the captain of the ship USS Obvious. After replaying her ridiculous confession, she squinted and rubbed at her cheek somewhat shyly.

"...I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I was just here... to..." To what, exactly? "Well, I had originally meant to get something to eat, but it was so quiet that I was enjoying the quiet a bit." In other words, it was probably quiet up until she showed up."

It was not an entirely successful endeavor, and honestly they were both not the best of things to try sounding like... But with everything going on, Bulba knew it was fairly valid. He was happy to hear that she was actually in her room, though, and not... missing or anything like that.

He leaned in towards the door, listening close for anything else.

"It's just me, Bulba," he answered softly, flicking his eyes towards the door.

There was a blatant pause on her end. Bulba. Of all people, Bulba? She was certainly far more accustomed to such an action to be taken on her end. Not to see the ivysaur didn't care about her, but frankly, the boy was often very preoccupied. The idea that he had taken time to specifically see her meant something.

Undoubtedly, that he was worried about her. Which she supposed she expected in the back of her mind, though she'd often considered the idea that Bulba frequently forgot about her. That whole saying: Out of sight, out of mind. Not something she could fault him for.

She finally opened her door and peeked her head out for him. "Hello, Bulba." Reaching out her left hand, she wiggled her fingers at him, "Is everything all right? I don't believe you've actually ever come to my dormitory before."

Oh hello, she was a bit closer now that he was leaning in. Bulba leaned back a touch, looking down at her with a small, sheepish smile.

"Ah.. Ha, you're probably right, I don't think I have." Not to knock on the door, anyway. He'd passed it a countless number of times already on rounds, but he'd never thought to stop. He was, as Voile rightfully noted, often preoccupied. And when he wasn't... well. Bulba was never very big on being a bother. Whether or not he would have actually been one wasn't really up for him to decide, but it was one he made regardless.

"I do hope everything is all right though. I dropped by to see how you were doing."

Izzy made an obnoxious bark of laughter.

"It's funny cause I didn't see you at all," she explained.

She shuffled forward a bit, cocking her head to one side. "Isn't it a bit late for a meal and relaxation? There's a few nocturnal psychics out there, but you definitely ain't one of 'em."

His first instinct was to remain quiet - He wasn't much of one for talking face to face with those he didn't know after all. But then again, he was trying to be better about that for Riwane's sake if for no other reason. She didn't need him making enemies for her.

"Evening." he replied without moving. He couldn't see her yet from where he sat, but he could smell her. It wasn't an unfamiliar scent - he knew it as one of the many student scents that criss-crossed school grounds and hallways and walkways outside. But not anyone he'd spoken to. Her footfalls weren't heavy and if anything her movements sounded cautious.

"I'll not snap. Come in if you've a mind to."

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I Don't Have a Title for This: The Log

Day--25th. Location--kitchen. Exits--none. Emotional trauma--yes.

You cruel mistress, you.

Yes I know. Good to be back.

Welcome baaaaack! ♥♥♥

And what better way to celebrate than by immediately torturing our characters?

You know how to speak to my heart. |D;

But of course. Should he pass without noticing her or do you want him to see her?

That is entirely up to you. I promise she won't throw anything at him. xD

Yet. Always yet.

She's a good girl! Really!

But he is a very bad boy and anything thrown at him is probably his fault.

This is true. He likely deserves it.

27th, Night Time, Common Room, No Items

LET'S SAY... FEB. 3RD...??

January 29th

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