june catch all | all prompts open!

[reenforces]

Who: Mikleo and you!
When: The month of June.
Where: Undermael College, the Coven grounds, and wherever your little heart desires.
What: Mikleo studies too hard, runs a taste test for this thing called ice cream from his world, and also fucks up his magic. (Event prompts might be added later after the log goes up.)
Warnings: None yet!

[I. off to college]

[This water seraph has been studious since the first day he got here, if you can count dousing a small fire and accidentally overflowing the rose baths 'practicing'. Because as much as he was a stickler for rules, there were some that he just didn't care for when weighed against things like exploration and knowledge. And yes, he'd been punished-- and felt like a little kid again when Sorey got in trouble because of him-- but that was fine, it didn't do anything to quell his own scholarly spirit.

Mikleo can be found in the college library typically after class or in the middle of the day, pursuing questions he's written in his notes and any required reading. When he isn't gobbling up spellbooks and arcane theory, he's reading history books and copying them into his own journal. Sometimes if the class was an especially strenuous one, one might come upon him sleeping quietly with his head in his arms atop a tome as the afternoon turns to evening.]

[II. tymael's apothecary / have some chill]

[Like a handful of other Witches and Monsters, Mikleo's been taking shifts at Tymael's Apothecary this month. He's angling for a permanent job, though he's not sure if his skills are up to snuff. They should be considering his previous experience with potion-making and being able to reverse-engineer the ingredients required for one, but his magic doesn't work quite the same and he can't use his power over water to control the temperature of what he's cooking.

Or can he?

It occurs to him one morning as he's mixing something in a pot immersed in ice to cool it. He... knows a spell for that? A small universal spell that he can use to clean things, to chill things or heat them up in a pinch, but in such small ways that it could be overlooked if they weren't as attentive to detail. But not Mikleo. He looks at his hands, and he looks at the pot, and he sees possibilities.

The next day, he sets up a chair and a food table outside the Coven. The sign is handpainted in elegant blue script: Taste Testers Needed. Sitting on the table are a bunch of paper bowls filled with ice cream of several different flavors: chocolate mint (complete with bits of mint leaf), vanilla (with flecks of black vanilla bean), a chunky-sweet strawberry, and chocolate so dark it's almost ebony.

It's all delicious, but the temperature and texture seems to vary from batch to batch, flavor to flavor. Some seems to taste like cheaper ice cream-- not enough heavy cream in that one. Some of it melted a little unevenly, so it tastes a little icy. But some of it is absolutely perfect, too.

The cook will jot any and all criticism in his journal. He won't call out to people, though; he's content to just people watch for now.]

[III. the school of hard knocks]

[But the nerd needs practice, and so he's out on the Coven grounds practicing when he's not studying or perfecting his craft. Mikleo prefers to go at night when few people can criticize him for going a little too hard, or panting, or just being physically weak. He's the Staff Chick, he doesn't need to do crossfit. Please.

With his staff in hand and a target dummy of some kind a few yards away, he practices throwing knives made of ice over and over as he tries to perfect his aim (still five inches off, and frustrating when he's an archer, he knows he can do better). And when he is thoroughly bored of that, he moves on to practicing the icy barrier he pulled off once during class. It had just been for a second, and the effort alone was exhausting at the time, but he has a stabler Bond now and he thinks he can do it.

One more time. He breathes in, waves his staff, and calls to the magic inside of him to form a shape. A defensive barrier made of water and ice, one that can hopefully deflect any physical blows were he to find himself at the wrong end of a Shade's hooves again. Unfortunately, what happens isn't a shield, exactly...

It's a full on car-sized bubble of water that bursts and floods the immediate area like a defunct swimming pool, knocking Mikleo right on his ass with a yelp and making a muddy mess of anyone else who might've been practicing nearby.]

[IV. wildcard option]
[Full moon shenanigans? Event shenanigans? Want sum plot???? As always, you can pplurk me at fonfabre or discord @ fonfabre#0318!]

Comments

[usurpers]

[ not immediate, but after a few hanging seconds, eren rolls back onto his bottom with mikleo in tow. who knew, that he’d survive countless ages in someone’s memories? eren knows it’s possible through personal experience— but this was an all bright side to grass he didn’t think could stay green. they usually dry yellow, until they’re white, coarse and dead.

but nothing kills the idea that grass could always be green, if taken care of.

fondness is an exchange that seems too light of a word, but it’s still there in eren’s eyes when he pulls back to shed a rather dork of a smile on the seraph. yes, that was him. roughly ruffling any stray locks that have fallen over his face from the descent, but at the same time so inexplicably gentle. he lives on contact more than ever now, and by the end of a huff— his skin isn’t flushing, but his scales are. ]

Then let’s go before I have to. [ it doesn’t end there, not without a soft press between foreheads that eren initiates. ] I need to tell you something.

[ can you feel that he’s antsy to? yeas. ]

[reenforces]

[He's happy to be not-carried, but he almost forgets to say something in return. He's so caught off-guard by that grin, sunny and fond in a way he isn't expecting, that his words have momentarily left him. His puffed-out cheeks and mock-frustrated expression fade a begrudging kiss that he plants on Eren's forehead, then he meets it, this gesture of intimacy that they had before they knew anything else about each other.

He loves those sunset scales so much. Almost absentmindedly, he runs his fingertips over them, seeing if they change color any.]

Now you've got me all curious. [He pauses.] But if it's serious, then we should probably get out of the middle of the garden.

[Mikleo is the one who moves slow this time, but only because he's reluctant. He gathers his feet beneath him and decides he'll look for the rest of his runaway clothing tomorrow. He doesn't mind being a little barefoot. When he's arranged appropriately, he offers Eren a hand up.]

[usurpers]

[ there’re some specks of bright cherry where touched, when touched, or maybe a shimmer gold where weak moon or lamp post lights bounce off him. pink ears, far beyond the scales, and when given a kiss, his chest jounces something fierce. mikleo is . . . too cute. eren wouldn’t say that out loud and probably wouldn’t choose the word cute, but. the sentiment is palpable beneath eyes and a smile that just seems to melt from a peck of warmth where their heads meet.

and a spark of something else, as mikleo raises himself and eren’s hand trails after, sliding down the seraph’s leg from thigh to ankle, and tongue, not sticking out at him, but definitely flicking out for a taste of the air. god he has so many hormones this month. this summer. rest in pieces.

at least they have something common now: bare feet. eren’s been losing more and more clothing as the days pass, hasn’t he . . . clapping the other’s hand and springing himself up, eren pulls to bring momentum to his favor— he just doesn’t let go of his hand as they walk, fingers crawling their way between the spaces made for him to slink into. ]

I spent a few days asking around. [ he figures he could start with an introduction to it now. ] Have you heard of Dewaint Forest?

[reenforces]

[He can sort of feel that cute bouncing around the link but he ignores it, even as a similar sort of feeling comes from himself. Eren turning little bits of red like a mood ring is also, quite frankly, fucking adorable. He almost kisses him again, but elects to get moving. Though it's not without a soft squeak as he feels Eren pawing down his leg (gently, though), maybe he's not asking but he's thinking about it, and Mikleo flushes harder.]

Excuse you, [he says again. But he's still happy to twine their fingers together and... pretend he's above all this. (He's not.)]

That's the fairy place where we met, according to Yako. [He's right back to studying Eren, brows lifted inquisitively.] Did you find something?

[usurpers]

[ the very fact that acts like he’s above all this is cute in and of itself. none of the teasing playfulness really leaves eren’s edge as they walk, and as his thumb smooths over the top of the seraph’s cool hand— it’s clear as hell in emotion, especially when it’s still spiking like his tone still echoes in his ears even after being said. he seems to like that mikleo is portraying himself as a tsundere.

you’re plan is backfiring you fool!!! ]

A woman who was there 120 years ago. Her name is Sully Stitcher.