[ OPEN + CLOSED PROMPTS ] I COULD LIFT YOU UP.

[sunderings]

Who: Solange "Sol" Aster (Sion Astal) & You!
When: 05/19 - 05/21
Where: The dormitories, city park, and a music room!
What: Weekend activities to include: using cupcakes to solicit community involvement, losing track of assignments in need of grading on a blustery day, and being overly affable in public.

❶ And there, atop the stainless steel of a countertop used many a time to house impromptu study-sessions and dinner parties, lies...!
❷ The decision is yours, good samaritan: will you aid him?

Comments

[sunderings]

I understand. I've not been sleeping well myself, as of late, though I am the only one to blame for that.

[ Turning his head, he makes to catch Gabe's eyes with his own, the playful, teasing lilt fading from his voice as he speaks— ]

The meet will go well. You've trained hard all this while, haven't you? You're one to doge curfew, even, in favor of staying out late on the field.

[blackdogdown]

[He doesn't answer that.]

You're a smug ass, you know that?

[Sol doesn't really scare Gabe, he's met enough honestly scary people in his life to know when someone probably isn't flat out dangerous. But it doesn't keep Sol from being a bit creepy and offputting. ]

You?? Not sleeping well? What do you even do after curfew Mr.Perfect?

[He shrugs. You know, actually he changed his mind. Smug Sol is much better then concerned Sol. ] Of course I have. Running's what I'm good at. Not a lot of thinking involved.

[ He's found himself running more and more since this app appeared. ]

[sunderings]

[ Truth be told, though they are often at ends and seem to be an unlikely pair—Gabe, with his brusque demeanor and surly temperament, and Solange with his effervescent smile and capricious disposition—they've more in common than they likely realize: where Gabe has taken to the track, running for distance and improvement in time, Solange has made a habit of sequestering himself away in one of the campus' many music rooms during his free time. There, he has lost himself to playing his latest favored sonatas for violin, practicing until he'd achieved technical perfection if only to take his mind off of all that which remained out of his control and out of his grasp.

(And even now, it's silly, isn't it, that he should be thinking about the appearance of the ouroboros app...?) ]

To that end, I admire you. [ —expression softening into something earnest and warm, Sion turns his gaze to the windshield, admiring of the spring greenery which laid beyond it. ] Breaking curfew to pursue your goals is a mark of passion.

[ Albeit, a dangerous one with the resurfacing of the 'Shadow' murders. ]

You'll surely see me in the stands at the meet. [ Ah?? That sounds suspiciously like a promise. ]

As for myself, I think I've spent one too many late nights studying. [ The answer to what he does after curfew? Only that which is expected of him: maintain his studious, Mr. Perfect 4.0 gradepoint average. ] Unexpectedly... a new project has also popped up, posing a problem beyond my area of expertise.

It's been a bit research heavy, to say the least. I may seek out some of our software engineering majors for assistance.

[blackdogdown]

Passion? Sure, I guess? I'd call it being a stubborn dumbass who doesn't know when to quit.

[He's seen the news of the murders to, but its been hard to care. He's always been the sort to press himself to the brink, and what puts more energy into your sprint then knowing that you're breaking the law! ]

Oh no. My time will drop for sure if I see your smug face. I'll have to make a detour to remove it. [It sounds suspiciously like resigned acceptance.]

Oh? Another project. Did you find a new student to bully into submission like me? [ The poor bastard. Gabe's heart is with you. His eye narrows a bit at the software engineering mention but his focus expression is gone the next second, replaced by a familiar gruff irritation. ]

Yeah? Well, if you find anyone good tell them to check the school firewalls. I got a nasty virus the other day and it won't get off my phone.

[sunderings]

A virus. [ A silvered brow lofting high, Sol's eyes flit back to his (reluctant) companion, widening in silent question: have you seen it, as well, the app marked by an ouroboros? ] I, too, have found something similar on my--...

[ This time, when Solange trails off, his voice diminishing into nothing, it is not out of consideration of some fleeting fancy or dream—his behavior becomes stilted in a way it never is for someone otherwise so sure of themselves and the world which surrounded them; for someone so buoyant and bright.

Almost, it is like a shadow has swept over him, though with a shake of his head, Solange attempts to dispel the feeling and persists: ]

There are others experiencing the same, so very many that I--...

[ And again, he is forced to give pause, wincing as the pulse of a headache springs to life behind his eyes. Lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, he attempts to focus, startled to find that the intensity of the headache only seems to worsen with each passing second— ]

I cannot seem to speak about it.

[blackdogdown]

Haha, what sort of website's are you on to get a virus, Sol? [An eyebrow is raised, a question asked, but Gut's brushes it off as his head pangs. Wow its like that thought is just...brushed away. Besides, its freaking Sol. He probably has other reasons.

Of course that momentary lapse in thought is overruled because of course Sol just keeps going. ]

Others. Like do you mean with th- [His teeth clack together with a hiss as his headache redoubles. The thought, does Sol have that app to? lies out of his reach, a jolt of pain dissuading him from fully grasping it. Instead of continuing the conversation, he reaches into a glove compartment and tosses Sol some painkillers. ]

Here. These have been helping, but not as much as they should.

[sunderings]

[ Catching the bottle at the last second—almost, he'd missed it, the sudden onset of the headache blurring his vision—Sol nods in silence, grateful as he uncaps the painkillers (ibuprofen?), and takes the recommended dosage (two pills). In all his academic career (including scores of all-nighters and early mornings), he's never experienced tension to the point of restricted movement and muddled thoughts, the pain creeping its way from behind the eyes, to the temples, then down his neck the more he struggles to maintain his line of thinking.

Viruses, others, too many questions, it must be... ]

Tutoring. I frequent online tutoring websites, giving advice to others.

[ Ever so slowly, he shifts back, turning so that his forehead might touch to the leather of the seat, the material oddly cool against the skin. ]

Thank you. [ —he reaches out, offering the bottle back. ] I really have had one too many late nights, I think.

[ … ]

Would you think less of me, if I were to tell you I felt like resting right now?

[blackdogdown]

[Wow. Sounds like someones never been hungover before. What a goody two shoes. Sure Gut's has had perhaps what might be called a torrid youth, but it saddled him with a high pain tolerance and a large supply of painkillers. Guts reaches for the bottle himself and chokes down four of the things. Yeah he's passing out after this. ]

Course you-ack haha do. [Its hard to swallow pills and laugh at the same time, but he does it. Ow. ]

Why do you care what I think? If your not gonna stop me from taking my next nap, you can do what you want.

[sunderings]

[ Hungover, someone like Solange Aster, a well-respected and well-accomplished member of the collegiate community who maintains not only his personal Dean's list placement, but aids other students in achieving their goals as well...? No, never him. Despite having grown up abroad, and in a country where the legal age to drink wine and beer is a mere 16 years of age, Solange has never cared for alcohol, and most certainly has never before been inebriated. Which is why...

The migraine is a pain, though not enough of one to prevent him from reaching out, shoving Gabe's arm when his companion (now compatriot?) begins to cough and laugh and somehow still swallow the medication down. ]

Be careful.

[ Shifting, Solange seeks out the most comfortable position he is able, winding up on his side with his hair pillowed beneath his head. ]

If I may do what I please, I'm--... [ Slowly, he allows for his eyes to fall closed, lashes fanning against his cheek. ] ...going to nap with you.

[ And that's that. ]

But you musn't tell another soul that their RA skipped his own afternoon class.

[blackdogdown]

[ Honestly, Gabe never liked it much either but that doesn't mean he didn't try once or twice. Sol needs to live a little.

He shakes his head. ]

'm fine. Bleugh. [He shakes his head like he could shrug off this headache and signs, lying back. ]

No promises. You shouldn't care so much anyway. Everyone skips.