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  6. Posted · Edited by radio414

    And Ashley was gone. Out of Melissa’s life again. At once, Melissa felt both a wave of relief at not having another problem to deal with during an already difficult moment and that not-unexpected twinge of worry, wondering if she’d done or said anything wrong. Had she scared Ashley off? No, she’d just managed to effectively communicate how little she wanted to talk to someone unless it was for the express purpose of boxing up and ringing up a pair of flower bracelets. That was all it was, right?

    But she couldn’t think about that now. That wasn’t to say she didn’t want to, that it wasn’t constantly on her mind, but, well, the corsage shelves could only get thinner, right? Her options, imperfect as they might be, could only decrease, right? She had to decide soon.

    Her eyes landed a nice arrangement of purple (the label said mauve?) carnations. Perfect for Gabriela, Melissa decided. “One down, just one more to go,” Melissa said to herself as she took it off the shelf to get a closer look. Yes, it would do nicely. Melissa smiled. For the first time since she’d come in, things didn’t look so daunting. She even almost forgot that she’d just been approached by Ashley Rendleman.

    Almost.

    “Ashley! Hey!” Hitomu’s voice pierced through whatever barriers Melissa’s focus had put up, dragging her back down to reality. The reality where, yes, she only had one more corsage to find, but finding the one seemed just as impossible as finding two had been. The reality where -- and this couldn’t be stressed enough -- this was only the first of so, so many horrible decisions she planned to have to make that day.

    The reality where Ashley Rendleman was now talking with Hitomu Amaya.

    She shouldn’t have cared, and she knew it. But the thoughts she’d previously suppressed, that worry, started constructing a new timeline. How had Ashley Rendleman spent her time in the flower shop? She’d walked in, approached Melissa, un-approached, and now was engaged with someone else. The key moment was the third one, the “un-approach.” Why had she done that?

    The answer was obvious. “She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Melissa said to herself. “She doesn’t want to talk to you because you’re as interesting as watching paint dry when the paint’s been dry for a week. At least.” It wasn’t even the worst impression she thought she could have given; it was the mere idea, though, of Ashley Rendleman having that impression of her. Melissa didn’t think she would forget it. Until she graduated, Melissa thought, whenever Ashley thought of her, that would be what she thought. And yeah, she still hoped that was as infrequently as she could make it, but the impression was still there.

    Again, Hitomu was there to interrupt her thoughts. “Picking up some flowers for your date tonight?” he said, totally oblivious to the maelstrom going on in the corner. “That’s normally the guy’s job, but hey, if anyone would flip the script, it’d be you.”

    She needed to get out. As far away as possible from the flower shop, or at least however far away her dorm room was so she could shower, decompress, and forget it all so she could finish getting ready. Right in front of her was a, if she was being frank, plain bracelet adorned with white carnations and not much else. It was good enough.

    “Find everything okay?” the cashier said as she rang Melissa up.

    “I think so,” Melissa said.

    The cashier didn’t respond immediately, creating an awkward moment where Melissa had removed her card from the chip reader but hadn’t actually received her flowers. In fact, the cashier was staring off in the distance. When Melissa followed her gaze, she found the cashier was making googly eyes at Hitomu.

    “I think so,” Melissa said, a little louder this time.

    “Oh! Sorry,” the cashier said. She quickly handed over the flowers. “Um, make sure these go into a refrigerator as soon as you can. Like, go right home, maybe spritz some water on them, and into the fridge. We’ve already lost some roses today, I’d hate the same thing to happen to you and ruin your night.”

    Melissa didn’t need to be told twice.

    The walk home was fine. It was quicker than the walk to the shop for so many reasons Melissa didn't want to spend the time going through them all, but it was fine. The only notable moment was when her phone buzzed and she was greeted with yet another group chat. There were actually two messages accompanying the notification. Melissa briefly wondered how she had missed the first one, but quickly put question aside. She was frazzled enough, she didn’t need that extra question.

    Kyouko is going to the kickoff and has offered/asked if any of us will as well. I plan to, so if you want to as well, it would be beneficial to the club as a whole to get a view on two other Duelist’s styles of Dueling as well as get a bit of scouting on whoever the Duel Team has this year.

    and

    Do you know who I am? Of course I ain’t going. If you pry this controller from my cold dead hands and drag me out, I’d still look for a way to escape and go back home. Have fun though.

    the messages read. Melissa wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about being added to another group chat, but at the moment it was probably fine, right? Just the two messages, that was manageable. She actually had a response, too. She couldn't believe it, but she did. Just three simple words:

    From: Melissa
    I’ll be there.

    Melissa turned the knobs of the shower and just stood there under the spout. The water was freezing, but she didn’t care. She tried to just let the water wash away the entire day so far. At the same time, though, she’d heeded the cashier’s words to the letter. So many things had the potential to ruin Gabriela’s date, but that wasn’t going to be one of them. Now, she just had to focus on herself.

    She went through her mental checklist. Her dress? Shoes? Those were ready. Her dress was hanging right in the middle of her closet, ready to be taken out and put on at a moment’s notice, and her shoes were right underneath. Dinner plans? Made. Gabriela had agreed to the meetup and it was just a quick walk down to the restaurant. After that, well, everything else had hopefully been planned by the committee in charge of the Kickoff Festival.

    What about herself? Was she ready?

    The water pouring from the showerhead was slowly heating up. Steam was starting to form. What else was on her checklist? Gabriela was probably ready. She’d seemed confident in her outfit choice and that was the only thing out of Melissa’s control so, yeah, “probably ready” was the best way to put it. Her contingencies? Ruined already -- Ashley Rendleman had made sure of that -- but what else could go wrong? What was worse than being noticed? So that was a wash.

    Was she ready?

    The water was almost-but-not-quite scalding. Steam was everywhere; the poor vent in the ceiling was helpless against the sheer quantity of the stuff emanating from the shower. Was Melissa Ashforth ready for tonight?

    “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

    “[…]and this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also—not the removal of dirt from the body but the pledge of a clear conscience toward God. It saves you by the resurrection of Jesus Christ”
    1 Peter 3:21 (NIV)

  8. Posted · Edited by radio414

    Courage… it is nothing without a test. Show me your strength.

    Corentin stumbled, sending the helper in front scrambling as well. “Sorry! Pardon! Sorry!” Cori said, desperately trying to pick himself back up. Stupid! He’d let himself get distracted, and by what? A thought that- why did he think it? Why was it in his head? Wasn’t he just doing what it had asked of him? He’d been rushing towards some of the most dangerous things in The Ever, what more did it want?

    His vision blurred. Had he hit his head when he fell? He couldn’t remember, though that wasn’t necessarily a good sign. The last thing he heard before he blacked out entirely was someone yelling, “Hey! Hey! You okay?” But that was it. He was gone.

    The sounds of battle faded. All sounds faded, in fact, until he woke up on in an entirely unfamiliar place with entirely unfamiliar people and he had to slowly, carefully pull himself back up, at least to a sitting position before he even started to take it all in.

    Out of the frying pan, huh? The fire didn’t seem too bad, at least, so maybe the statement wasn’t true all the way through but he was safe for now, at least. He did wince as he dragged himself all the way up, though. His fall had been more intense than he’d initially thought, and now that things appeared to be at least comparatively safer, it was probably time to treat it.

    Thankfully, the only thing that had happened to his bad was it had gotten a little bit (more) disorganized. Nothing had leaked or broken, or, at least, nothing that mattered. The vial of ointment he needed for his scrape was right on top, even.

    But now he was being greedy. “Is anyone else hurt?” he called out, and only then did he realize that people were starting to introduce themselves. “Oh, um, I’m Corentin Fournier. I have, uh, I have some medical supplies if anyone here is injured?” He rubbed some ointment on his leg. “And no, I don’t know what’s going on either. I did hear something about courage? Just before I blacked out, this voice in my head said something about a test of courage.”

  12. Posted

    Back to King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. Their new album, Infest the Rat's Nest is a thrasher metal concept album about how global climate change is going to lead to us burning in hell.

     

    yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay

  14. Posted

    Melissa had slowly managed to calm down after those first few moments of overwhelming analysis paralysis with regards to the flowers set in front of her. After all, she had plenty of time. There were so, so many hours left until she needed to even start getting ready, let alone actually meet up with Gabriela at all. So if she had to, she would just stand there looking at flowers, making sure everything was just so, and if anyone did come up and ask if she needed help, well, maybe that would be difficult, but she could rationalize it as practice for the evening festivities.

    “Hi there! I don't mean to be nosy or intrusive, but I feel like I've seen you around before and I've never introduced myself! My name's Ashley Rendleman. I'm your student council president!”

    Somewhere, Melissa imagined, a monkey’s paw was curling one of its fingers.

    “Lord, how many are my foes! How many rise up against me!
    Many are saying of me, ‘God will not deliver them.’”
    -Psalm 3:1-2

    Of all the people at Blue Yonder Academy, nay, of all the people in all of Ambrosia, Student Council President Ashley Rendleman near the top of Melissa’s list of people to avoid. Only bad things could come from being noticed by her. It wasn’t like she thought Ashley was a bad person, though! It was just, well, maybe it was because of that.

    Who organized events to -- as far as Melissa could tell -- literal perfection? Ashley Rendleman. Who knew everybody on campus’ name, with the associated connections that came with that perk? Ashley Rendleman. Melissa had heard through the grapevine that Ashley had even set up not only Elizabeth’s duel against Hitomu but also the main event of Kickoff that night on pure whims. Because she could.

    “I feel like I’ve seen you around before and I’ve never introduced myself!” Ashley had said. That was by design on Melissa’s part. As far as Melissa could tell, knowing Ashley Rendleman meant the possibility of being involved in any old event she wanted without even the slimmest chance to decline. But if she was just a face in the crowd, well, that wouldn’t happen.

    “Are you looking for flowers for tonight too? I was just looking around at some of the beautiful arrangements they have back there; I don't even know where to start with all of it!” Ashley said.

    Apparently, she hadn’t been anonymous enough, though, if Ashley was able to just approach her, half-curtsy(!) and stick her hand out like getting to know someone new was just second-nature to her. Really, there was no “like” about it. It definitely was second nature to Ashley in a way that it couldn’t, and wouldn’t be for Melissa. That was just how it was.

    Ashley’s hand stayed unshaken for a probably-uncomfortable amount of time (not that Melissa had the best intuition for that sort of thing), but Melissa did eventually reach out and accept the handshake. That was the trap, after all. She could have run or screamed or even done nothing; she could have just stared at Ashley’s hand until one of them left. But she did the normal thing. The expected thing. And the constricting web of social niceties became a little bit tighter.

    “My name is Melissa Ashforth. It’s nice to meet you, Ashley.” Melissa said. It wasn’t like she could stop there, though. She’d accepted Ashley’s offer of conversation, and Ashley had asked her a question. “Uh, yeah, I was looking for a couple of corsages- you know, um, the flower bracelets? I know the outfits we’re going to be wearing and I kind of know what I’m looking for, but, I don’t know, I guess I just… want to make sure I’m making the right decision, that’s all.”

  16. Posted

    Looking (listening?) into it a bit more, there is a volume difference between, say, the Youtube upload (on the label's (apparent) page, no less) and the Spotify version. Interesting. I wouldn't eliminate it being a mastering problem either, though I'm not an audio engineer. Anyway...

    switching genres as promised. have something french.

  21. Posted

    The rogue thought didn’t need to wait that long. Even from where he was, as far away from the walls as one could be, Corentin could still hear the crash as the gates were thrown open and the roar slash screams of Fairlight’s defenders as many of them finally caught their first glimpse at the hoard. It was a sound that sent Cori jumping to his feet, though whether he was ready to run towards it or in the opposite direction, he wasn’t entirely sure.

    The rest of the medical tent experienced the opposite effect. Those who knew what they were doing started yelling out orders. People around Cori sped up, to the point of jostling him while he stood there, practically motionless.

    It took a few moments -- a few precious moments -- but his time spent in high-pressure kitchens finally caught up to him. This was his element; he was used to this. The impending mass injury and death, maybe not so much, but the stress? The need to keep moving lest he fall behind? That was something he could handle. One could almost say he thrived in it.

    Another moment passed. Corentin was moving now; he realized where he needed to be. He wasn’t the most adept at healing or medicine or anything like that, but those that were -- the doctors and nurses -- couldn’t be the ones pulling the injured back from the gate. They were too few and too valuable. But someone like Cori, who could at the very least keep people alive, that was probably where he should be. This was immediately followed by another realization: the center of Fairlight was the safest, yes, but the distance meant that by the time medical staff reached the wall it was very possible casualties would be lining up. Time was of the essence.

    Corentin made his way through the crowd -- sometimes against it, but he persevered -- to where the stretchers had been laid out in advance. Lucky for him, someone else was desperately searching for their second, and the two quickly readied up.

    The “someone else” took the lead. “All set?” they said.

    Cori wasn’t sure he was but he nodded anyway, and the two took off towards the gate as fast as they could.

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