15,175 words.
[10.25.21]
Hope you enjoy. Happy Halloween.
:)
The Killer of New Moon Dungeon
Cast
[Red Team]
ATSUKO "AKKO" KAGARI
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
DIANA CAVENDISH's girlfriend of 2 years.
Studies magic to be a performer.
Loves her athletics uniform.
SUCY MANBAVARAN
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
Studies high-level potions for mastery.
Will act for her own entertainment.
LOTTE JANSSON
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
AMANDA O'NEILL's girlfriend of 5 months.
Studies magic to take over family business.
Plays mother hen to (try) and keep the peace.
[Blue Team]
DIANA CAVENDISH
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
ATSUKO KAGARI's girlfriend of 2 years.
Studies magic as head of the Cavendish family.
Puts all her trust in ATSUKO, responsibly.
HANNAH ENGLAND
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
Studies magic enchantments for linens (i.e. witch fashion).
Secretly harbors feelings for her best friend, BARBARA PARKER.
BARBARA PARKER
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
Studies witch history and mythology.
Secretly harbors feelings for her best friend, HANNAH ENGLAND.
[Green Team]
AMANDA O'NEILL
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
LOTTE JANSSON's girlfriend of 5 months.
Studies athletics and broom sports.
Protective of those closest to her, though rowdy by nature.
CONSTANZE AMALIE VON BRAUNSCHBANK-ALBRECHTSBERGER
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
Studies magic technology and innovates energy use.
Knows how to use her small stature and affinity for tech to her advantage.
JASMINKA ANTONENKO
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
Studies witchcraft's culinary and baking.
Despite a gentle disposition, her brute strength is not to be tested.
[Violet Team]
AVERY ?
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
Studies magic arithmetics and basic economics.
Even during stressful situations, will voice her opinion and act upon it.
MARY ?
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
Studies magic in government displays.
Is extremely loyal to her friends.
BLAIR ?
3rd Year Student at LUNA NOVA.
Studies magic in government displays.
Knows how to start and maintain a conversation, especially in stressful circumstances.
[Professors]
PROF. URSULA CALLISTIS
A LUNA NOVA professor for 13 years.
Teaches astronomy and extracurriculars.
Soft-spoken, but has high dexterity and athleticism—probably because she's the young blood.
PROF. ANNE FINNELAN
A LUNA NOVA professor for 17 years, and advisor for 8 years.
Teaches magic history and ancient (rune) linguistics.
Authoritative and stern, good with a wand, but ultimately wants a spot of whiskey.
PROF. NELLY NELSON
A LUNA NOVA professor for 15 years.
Teaches general athletics and flight.
Has a hearty laugh, but putting her abilities to the test is akin to prodding a bear with a stick.
Location
[Creepy]
NEW MOON DUNGEONS
The bare-bones of LUNA NOVA ACADEMY OF WITCHCRAFT.
A labyrinth of hallways and rooms to explore (and run in).
Is very offensive to the nose with its dirt, grime, mold, and whatever else it has to offer.
Sometimes has a mind of its own.
[COMATOSE]
[Status]: Everyone begins to wake to find themselves deep underground, underneath the New Moon tower of Luna Nova...
THE MUSK OF STONE BRICK suffocates her awake. The calloused chill in the air keeps her down. Her eyes wander, and it takes her several long dragging moments for them to adjust.
Dungeon.
Or more specifically, she's at the bottom of a spiraling staircase, and hung on the wall at her feet, dead center, is a mirror. She sees her reflection, pale with sweat beading down from her hairline. She's in her witch's dress—hat, red fixtures and all.
Akko sucks in a breath, her eyes trained on the mirror. She knows she should be in her bed. Yet…she's at the bottom of Luna Nova.
She stands, and her eyes navigate the shadows before her boots do. Just to be safe, however, Akko pulls out her wand. At its end, it glows pink. Akko watches the wand's tip with a hum. What a pretty color… The faint light slinks up the stairwell with the bounce of her stride, and Akko makes it to another level—at an intersection.
Before she instinctively traverses the second flight of the stairwell, her eyes still on a spot of the hallway. The pretty color caught an odd shadow, and it startles her when she realizes.
Akko frowns and tilts her wand towards the floor. Her blood runs cold.
A hand.
Pale tresses of lime and tinted white.
She swallows, stricken, with wide eyes and sudden, panted breaths. Akko stalks down the hall as more and more of a body is outlined by the wand. She can only breathe one thing:
"D-Diana…?"
x | x | x
There's a single scream, cut short, that jostles Diana awake.
It's Akko's, yet when she picks herself from the middle of the hallway, Diana can't see Atsuko Kagari anywhere. She flinches once she's on her knees, and gingerly, she grasps the back of her head. Diana hisses air, and when her eyes trail up the height of a bookshelf, she feels like her soul just leapt out the confines of her ribcage.
Her hand finds the center of her chest to ease her jolted, startled heart. "My word, Sucy…" Diana breathes, getting to her feet. "What are you doing, leering from up there?"
"Leering's a strong word," is murmured dryly. Sucy slips off with a light grunt, then as she fixes the hood of her uniform's half-cloak, she says, "It took you long enough to wake up. You've been in-and-out for the past few minutes."
Diana holds the back of her head again, and when she pulls her hand away, she doesn't find blood. Even so, she remarks, "I've got this terrible ache… Why…?" Her eyes scan the corridor. She smells the dust and mold littered throughout the stone bricks, and she pulls her own half-cloak tighter across herself as a shield against the frigid crawl of air. "Why are we down here? We haven't been in the dungeons since that midterm exercise in first-year."
"I don't know, but I did kind of miss it…" Sucy drones. Her brow arches once her eye drops to the floor. Diana's gaze follows, and she's quickly stricken: a fresh stain of blood, saturated into the porous stone. Sucy scuffs her heel against it. "Ech. I swear if that's mine…" She checks the side of her head with a hesitant rub. Her wince is more of irritation than pain like Diana's, though when she pulls her hand away, it is indeed coated by red. "Well, okay then."
"W—" Diana scrunches her nose and eyebrows together. "What do you mean, 'okay then?!' You could have a cracked skull!"
Sucy shrugs. "So could you, but it doesn't hurt anymore, now does it?"
"I…" Tentatively, Diana grazes her palm against the back of her head. "I-I…suppose not," she murmurs, her frown now purely bewildered. "I don't understand."
"Let's see. Mine still hurts only a little because I actually broke skin. You probably just bumped it…" Sucy weighs her hands and says, "And then magic."
Diana narrows her eyes, and the two are meandering down the hall. "I'm not fond of the thought that we woke up like this down here."
"And I am?"
Lips pursed and eyes further narrowed, Diana watches Sucy. A fanged grin twists itself into fruition. "I'm not, but I didmiss this place a little bit."
Their conversation dies, and as they stroll onwards, down into a hallway where the shadows consume the details they have been able to make out despite the dark. Diana gropes her hip until she finds her wand, and it's swiftly lit and extended. Sucy hisses as Diana skews her eyes shut. The light is at its lowest Diana thought to ignite it, and yet, the pink hue is blinding. Diana lowers the wand, and their eyes adjust themselves. Diana watches Sucy as she rubs her face and murmurs, "I didn't think it was quite so dark."
"Well that nightlight could've been the sun…" Sucy growls. Her head turns over her shoulder, and with squinted eyes, she looks down the hall. "Huh. We definitely just walked past a lot of shit paintings."
Diana raises her wand. The gold plaques attached to the hung frames glimmer against the modest light. Glowered, Diana hisses, "Those are the murals of the Olde Nine and the—" She tsks! when Sucy snorts a laugh.
"Okay, okay. Sorry I offended your legacy, or whatever." Her maroon eye sways over Diana's head, and smirk warped, Sucy notes, "Although…I definitely see where you got it from."
Diana twists around. Behind her is a graffitied portrait of Beatrix Cavendish, fitted with a painted monocle, mustache and exaggerated, pointed nose. Sucy snickers and begins to walk away. Diana, flustered, stalks behind. "I still do not understand how you're Akko's friend."
"Ask her, because I don't know," is retorted.
"Perhaps if you would just stop—" Diana swerves in front of Sucy, bringing them both to a staggered halt— "with your attitude and recognize the situation, you'd show a little more urgency after Akko's screaming!"
Sucy eyes her, brow arched. "…you and I both know that Akko screaming didn't wake you up."
"And how have you concluded that?" Diana hisses.
"If you woke up from her screaming, you wouldn't have had the time to notice me watching you, now would you? You're the one who established your own urgency, right?" Sucy asks pointedly. Diana fumbles for an answer, only to snap her jaw tight when it doesn't come. "Right." Sucy's wand is out too now, and she points it to the floor with her own light. "I'm not saying that this isn't serious, Diana. Okay? I know it is. But it's also just strange."
Diana eyes her with tightened lips. "What do you mean?"
Sucy's wand points back down the hall of murals. "Look around… We're in Luna Nova, and we've been here before, but the air is…different." She begins to circle around Diana, maroon eye caressing her attention and holding it in place. "Now if you paused to think without focusing so much on me, you'd notice too… Do you feel like those paintings are watching you? Do you wonder where all the lights went?" Her thrum drops to a whisper: "Why is it so quiet in here? It's so quiet that… Can't you hear the voices of the dead in the air?"
With her free hand, Diana holds herself by her bicep and swallows. "I suppose you've made your point," she murmurs, voice, too, dropped in volume. "It is…strange."
Sucy tilts her head to the ceiling, and her wand points as well. "I missed the dungeons from our lesson out here, and I still do. We're not in the same part where we went, I don't think…"
"No…" Diana hums.
"This part has a different energy to it, don't you agree?"
Sucy isn't wrong, and the longer the two stand in silence, the more it leaves a bitter taste in Diana's mouth. The shadows in the dungeon are a little too dark, and the light at the end of their wands are still a little too bright—despite having been out for a good few minutes, long enough for their eyes to have acclimated. The air is brisk in ways Diana doesn't remember the dungeon being. The musk of cobwebs and soiled water is too strong, as with all the other repugnant odors.
Slowly, she nods. "It feels…ominous, I think."
Sucy hums a breath of her own. "It feels like a purgatory," she says. "Like we've been left here to get out."
Once again, Sucy's accuracy sits uneasily with Diana, but she can't find herself denying it.
Before Diana can suggest that they keep moving, however, the soles of boots echo against stone. They turn back down the murals. Another wand lit, and the warm light paints a face that they relax to: Professor Ursula. It's a comfort, seeing the kind, gentle professor there with them.
"I see you two are alright," she greets calmly. "I got worried about a spot in the hall there…"
"It's mine," Sucy mutters. "But I'm good now. It doesn't hurt."
"Ah, okay…" Professor Ursula murmurs, if a bit disconcerted. She pauses in front of Beatrix's mural and glances at the picture before holding her eyes there. "Oh. I see there's been an artist running around."
She chuckles when Diana sighs, "Yes, unfortunately."
Professor Ursula nods. "Unfortunately," she parrots. "Though, it does remind me of the things I find in Akko's class notes."
"Yes…it does, doesn't it?" Diana agrees, a tad flushed at the mention of Akko's name. "U-Um, professor?"
"Hmm?"
"Have you seen Akko? A-And did you hear her scream?"
Professor Ursula shook her head. "No. Well—" she exhales and bows her head— "I haven't seen her in a bit. She's the one that woke me up, before she ran off… Us three, actually, but… I was actually going to ask if either of you saw her, o-or remember…?" Both Sucy and Diana shake their heads. "Ah." Professor Ursula frowns, and she shifts her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "W-Well, erm, I didn't hear anybody scream… Diana, do you think something happened…?"
Diana nods. "Yes, but I may have imagined the scream," she says. "Sucy didn't hear her either."
"No," she confirms. Sucy then frowns. "Woke us up? …us too?"
"Yes, you too," Professor Ursula replies. "You were in the same room as me, actually, though you and Akko left before I got to my feet. Diana, I believe Akko got to you first, though." Neither student is dawned with recollection. Rather, they soothe where their splitting aches had been—Sucy alongside her ear whilst Diana at the back. "I see…you both were knocked out cold."
Diana thumbs the handle of her wand. "You've made it sound like we were attacked," she murmurs.
"Because I think you were." Startled, both Sucy and Diana stare at their professor. "Akko was frantic when I awoke. Kept checking behind her—out the doorway and into the hall. She was adamant that we find the others—"
"Others…?"
Professor Ursula tilts her head, and her hat's brim follows. "Yes. Lotte, Hannah and Barbara are here, as well as the green and violet teams, and professors Finnelan and Nelson. Those are who Akko said were here, anyway. All along this floor. She'd been searching for us specifically." She clears her throat. "Anyway, she said to wake them all up, then find a way out. But I'm worried. I don't know where Akko went."
"I don't like the idea that we're down here—" Diana crosses her arms and holds herself tighter— "nor the thought of Akko navigating this place on her own."
"Well, that is to be expected. You've always worried about your girlfriend, haven't you?" Professor Ursula asks kindly.
Diana pauses. Girlfriend… Her nod is slow as a few sprinkles of memories slip into place. Akko forcing a flower into her face; Akko practically dragging Diana out into the snow for an odd picnic; Akko's confidence in proclaiming… That's right, she is… Where in the world did my memory go? Diana's hand finds her lips as the ghost of tender warmth haunts them.
"U-Um. Love you."
"Love you too."
She hums into her hand with a blush reaping her skin. Diana murmurs, "Yes, of course. Akko always gets herself into trouble, and with the severity now…" Diana nods once firmly. "I'm going to find her."
"Okay, Diana. You do that, and wake up anybody you come across. Stay with them if you can so we don't get separated. We'll be doing the same," Professor Ursula says.
"Sounds like a plan…" Sucy mutters, slipping ahead, further down the hall with nonchalance carrying each step.
Professor Ursula sighs, and she glances at Diana. "Be careful. I don't know what's down here with us, or who, but I believe this will probably be the start of a long, long night."
"And you too, professor," Diana replies. They press identical tight smiles before parting ways, Diana back down the hall of murals to search for another corridor, and Professor Ursula trotting to join Sucy. As she walks, Diana's brow is furrowed. She retains the urge to call for Akko as that would, most definitely, invite trouble. Instead, she pits half of her energy on searching through the halls with scouring eyes, and the other half of her energy on recollection.
More specifically, all in piecing together the fragments of consciousness she could have had between awaking to Akko's kiss—and with the haunted warmth as fresh as it is, there had to have been at least a few—to stirring with a split head.
x | x | x
With my hair-tie bit between my teeth, I fix my hair with my bangs freed on the left of my face—because looking asymmetrical is my thing. (Can't ever be too perfect, now.) Once the other half of my bangs are tied back, I breathe out and set my hands on my hips. My eyes linger on the corner of the room where an old-fashioned, smelly ancient rug sits, rolled up and propped against the wall. Every-so-often it wriggles.
Stupid rat. Don't let me catch sight of you again…
I hate them. Vermin. Rats. They're diseased, for one thing. All those plagues? Yeah. There's a reason why they're foul. All that said, though, I do relieve a chuckle. Scurrying around as a rat myself would probably be entertaining, not gonna lie. But, well, I'm in a dungeon, and dungeons are creepy, so there isn't any room for any of that.
…I mean, maybe I could make the room. Just don't tell anyone, though, because I'm sure everyone else here wouldn't want some rodent sprinting across their shoes.
"Akko…?"
I hear her pause in the doorway to this storage room. I can smell the hesitance, and it's strong against the musk of brick. Here we go. I perk. "Hi, babe!" I smile and turn around to Diana's hesitance—to her voice. Her wand is out with its pink glow, and I skew one eye shut. It's bright. I can see within the dungeon without it, so even if it's not the brightest it can be… Dammit, it still burns, okay?! But, well, intensity of light shrugged aside, I keep my smile and remark, "I was wondering where you went."
Diana blinks. The shadows of her face are sharp, and the blue of her eyes are piercing, even through the haze of pink. "You were…? Where I went?"
I nod, and with a quick glance back to the rug, I say, "I mean, yeah. You kinda just left…" Shit, not like that. "Err, we were together for a little bit, and then I checked some broom closet and you were gone."
"I wouldn't just leave you…" she mumbles, striding carefully into the room.
"I mean, obviously." I try a laugh. She doesn't reciprocate. I push on anyway because, well, I'm Akko. It's what I do: "Nobody would leave their girlfriend in a creepy dungeon. Duh."
Diana rocks her jaw with a slow nod. Her eyes trace the storage room. "Yes… I most certainly wouldn't leave you in a crowd to begin with."
I scoff a short yeah and check the rug again. It barely twitches now. The wriggling is more or less subdued. Guess the stupid rat gave up trying to weasel its way through it. When Diana steps beside me, however, I tense. Her gaze follows its way to the corner, and I wave off her question before she has the chance to ask: "There was this fat rat here when I came in to check to see if anybo— If you were here, but anybody else too, and it wedged itself into the rug there. Either it's gone now or it gave up trying to get out."
"I see," she murmurs quietly. "Is it too dark in here to have let it run out the door?"
"Eh," I grunt with a shrug. "Probably cracks and holes all over this place. It'll find a way to squirm out. It's a rat, Diana. It's kinda what they do."
"Akko…?"
Both Diana and I twist towards the door. Ah. Here's Sucy. Her eye is squinted at me in particular, and I fold my arms as a retort in itself. "…hi? What's with the look?"
"Um…where's your coat?"
"Eh?"
Sucy fans out her half-cloak. "Your coat. Everyone else has one," she mutters pointedly.
I shrug. "Well…I don't." After a moment of thought, I say, "Maybe because I didn't do my laundry."
Her eye rolls. "Of course you didn't. You can't—"
Diana steps forward and cuts off the conversation with an open arm, her pink light gliding with the motion. "Wait, so you've found some of the others as well?"
Sucy, after a quick glare in my direction (…the asshole), answers, "Yeah. Lotte, Hannah and Barbara, and all the professors are up. We're still trying to find the violet team, but they should be around here. Green's in the next room."
Arms crossed, Diana watches Sucy with suspicion. "Away from the stairs? How'd you miss this room?"
"Yes, away from the stairs. Ursula and I came up from the other side, around the corner," Sucy spits. "There can be more than one flight of stair—"
"Okay, I know that!" Diana gasps. "It was a mere question is all!"
"…right." As Sucy stalks back in the direction she came, a blue light slinks after her. It takes over the mouth of the hallway, crawling into the edges of the bricks until…
Lotte, with her skull lantern at hand. Upon meeting our eyes, she relaxes a smile. "Ah, so you two are safe and sound."
"We are…" Diana murmurs, her eyes stitched on the lantern. "Where did you find that?"
"Hmm? Oh." Lotte raises the skull. "I think I came with it. Was wanting to see if I could get a better light than my wand and found it just feeling around. It was beside the dresser I was leaning against so—" a simple shrug— "I took it."
Diana nods. "It's a good thing to have. Easier to cast spells without having to worry about light."
"Yeah…" Lotte breathes.
"How'd we get down here?! And why the fuck does this room smell like ass?!"
The raised, bewildered voice comes from the other room, and it rips Lotte's attention towards where Sucy lurked over to. Sighed, I mutter, "Well, Amanda's definitely awake." Diana and I follow Lotte, who brushes past Sucy to find Amanda sitting upright while Jasminka and Constanze clamber to their feet.
Amanda immediately turns to face the lantern, then up to Lotte's glasses. "…u-um, you didn't hear me, did you?"
"I did, y-yeah…"
Sucy emits a drawn-out exhale. "What, just because you two are a thing now doesn't mean you always have to play coy."
Unfortunately for Sucy—or in defiance of Sucy—, the pair brighten, blink some confusion away, and Lotte drops to her knees so that they both meld into each other's arms, lips tied together. Sucy groans another breath, and I smirk. "Thought you were too much of a loner to play Cupid."
Her glare snaps to me. "Oh quiet," Sucy hisses. As to give the lovebirds some room, however, she turns away and steps out into the corridor. With a snide remark because of course she has one: "Don't act like you didn't come to me for advice with her." To my side, Diana's brows pull together, and she watches us with skewed eyes. "She didn't tell you?" Sucy asks, now the one entertained. A laugh, much to my chagrin, and then the bitch details, "I was the one who outlined her whole plan to woo you, Diana. And if she lit all those candles herself, she would've burned down the whole academy."
Diana's eyes flare with a tight jaw. There's a moment taken before she can manage, "I-I see… And what else…?"
There's only a sardonic chuckle. Sucy steps forward, and maroon flashes over her shoulder. "Wouldn't you like to know…? Point is, any loner can play Cupid if they know an idiot and queen bee well enough."
That bitch…
Diana and I watch her stalk down the hall, swiftly claimed by the shadows without the light of her wand. "I swear she gets on my every last nerve," I growl.
"She certainly knows how to wriggle her way under everybody's skin…" Diana murmurs. Piercing blue eyes find my shoulder, however, and I don't have to turn to find her laced curiosity. "Did you really take relationship advice from her?"
"It was a while ago, Diana," I grumble. "It's not like that advice would be useful now."
"Well I realize that…" We stroll down the hall, away from wherever Sucy went. "I'm just wondering, though. Sucy doesn't strike me as the type to understand this kind of thing."
I shrug. "Maybe she still doesn't, but I guess she knows a thing or two anyway. Like a duck knowing about bread. It can't tell you how it's made or anything, but it knows when people dish it over."
Diana merely hums. Her smile is light, and she says, "You and your analogies…"
"Right."
Her light smile flickers. She rubs the crook of her neck and fixes the knot of her tie, absentminded. Diana's trying to work through some complicated thoughts or whatever. I can tell. After a minute, it comes: "Is she— H-How is Sucy, as a friend?"
Eh?
Diana tenses a grip around the arm that holds her wand. "I mean with all the things she does to you, Akko," she murmurs softly, "why? I don't… I can't fathom why'd you would be her friend." Her eyes shift to mine, brimmed with a sort of protective contempt, diluted by puzzlement.
"How am I supposed to know that?" I mutter. "She's on my team. I've been stuck in dorm with her for two years now. I can't just do anything else."
"I-I…suppose…" That's all it takes for Diana to drop it. She's still uncertain, but my kind-of-friendship with Sucy is hardly the most important thing right now. Sucy can buzz off and do whatever she's doing right now, and everybody else can get up, then we focus on the dungeon.
Although, irritatingly, I find a smudge of dirt on my vest. "Ew, how'd I get this already?! Is it going to get out?!" I roughly rub the dark streak with a scowl, halted in place. When Diana mirrors me, I glance at her for a brief moment before holding my head in place, eyes locked with her stare. "What?"
She jerks in place and shakes her head. "It's nothing." Diana pauses, and her eyes don't waver from mine. Without looking at the uniform, she says, "I'm sure it will be fine once we get out. It will only take a few washes, Akko…"
"Okay…" I fix a wide smile. "Thanks, Diana! This is why you're the best girlfriend!"
Diana flashes a quick grin of her own. "Yes, of course." She swallows and clears her throat, grin long gone. "Anyway, um, I-I'm going to go and search around, okay? We can spread out and find last few that way. Get back with Lotte or Professor Ursula, though. I'll just search around here in case any of us missed anything."
Simple enough. I nod. "Alright! See you later then, Diana!"
She leaves without another word, and my wide smile drops once Diana's around the corner. My eyes shift down the hallway, along the aging furniture that decorate it. I hope there's no more rats, I think to myself. The rug that blankets the center is riddled with holes, and I absentmindedly count them as I walk onwards. If there's more rats here with me, this dungeon isn't going to be as fun as I thought.
I sigh, and aloud, I murmur, "Rats are the worst…"
x | x | x
Sucy decides that, because the professors are awake and will tend to the rest of her classmates, she has the grounds to slip away and wander the dungeon. Her face is highlighted by the glow of her wand, and it brings color to the silvery mauve of her hair, as well as the violet undertones of her pale complexion. Her maroon eye scans wherever the light touches, and she murmurs a spell. The pink curdles into a faint white, and the glow detaches itself to hover over her shoulder.
She scowls and pockets her wand, and with both hands, she pulls over the hood of her half-cloak. "It's too dark and cold, even for me…" Sucy breathes. The last time she was in the dungeon, the lanterns were all lit, and the warmth of those spirited candles had obviously made the difference. So Sucy continues to meander, hands folded in her pockets, if only to cling onto her own body heat.
Her shoe snags something. "Eh?"
Maroon slides to the floor, and Sucy finds a thick, extensive rug whose length gives her athletics uniform's skirt a run for its money; curiously, Sucy strolls along it, following wherever it may take her. As her strides pad into the rug, however, she realizes just how much noise it absorbs. Without the gentle clicks of her loafers, Sucy can't hear anything. When her eyes linger on the occasional portrait or bust, she imagines the whispers of the Olde Nine, but that's all. There's no creaks or groans, nor any sign of life other than her.
"Do you feel like those paintings are watching you? Do you wonder where all the lights went?"
Sucy scowls again. Her own words are biting her on the ass. While none of what she asked Diana was a lie, Sucy was merely weaponizing her own observations to worm her way under the prefect's skin. It did work, of course, and Sucy is still proud, though she now regrets verbalizing anything of the sort. Some things, she believes whole-heartedly, should stay in her head, because once let out, it will come back to bite her—right on the ass.
She perks out of her train of thought. Her head turns with her eye, and she sees it, right there beside her: a Ganoderma lingzhi.
"Hello lovelies," Sucy murmurs, crouched beside the reishi mushroom patch. It's a modest bunch, tucked between the corner of the stone wall and a steamer trunk. "How did you get down here…? It's a little cold for you…" She pauses, then shrugs. "Whelp, guess I'll be taking all of you then."
Within minutes, she's back traversing the rug's length, now with a very satisfied pocket at her hip. Sucy chews the inside of her cheek in thought. If she can manage to gather the bare minimum of ingredients, perhaps Sucy could brew something after all. The chill of the dungeon would still be a bother, but the dark shadows and need for her wand, perhaps that wouldn't be an issue any longer.
If only Sucy knew where to look. She doesn't, and judging from the daunting length of this corridor, the dungeon is too expansive to be looking in every single corner. Sucy, however, might as well try to pass the time. At the very least, she does, in fact, begin to see the outline of the end of the rug, and thusly the end of this hallway. The scope is still daunting, but (thankfully) with an end.
Now for how she would be concocting this potio—
"Well I just wanted to see if there were any toilets here in case I need to whiz!"
Sucy halts, and her face is pulled into a disgusted sneer. Why am I stuck here with Amanda…? her thoughts gruel as she slinks to the wall. With a snap, the light over her shoulder goes out just as a gentle, blue hue begins to crawl from around the corner. She hears Lotte's sigh, and then a pair of Converse pattering before Amanda kicks some metal tin. The bucket hits the wall across from Sucy. As the upcoming pair of shadows snake along the same wall, Sucy ushers herself into an indented doorway. Her maroon eye peers out as Lotte and Amanda—holding hands, blech—begin to stroll down the lengthy rug.
"I think we're lost, Amanda," Lotte notes, holding out her skull lantern.
Amanda shrugs. "It's not like this place is infinite. We'll get back to the others." She stops in her tracks however, and experimentally, she jolts her wand and flicks a spear of light down the rug-strait. "…how long is this fucking hallway?"
"Um, I don't know," Lotte mumbles. "You did say that this place isn't infinite, so…it probably ends somewhere."
"Yeah…"
They walk on, having never noticed Sucy lurking in the doorway. Maroon trails them until the lantern is but a smudge, and when hinges creak behind her, she turns towards it. Sucy arches a brow, shrugs, and steps into the room. Before she has the chance to light her wand, a chandelier hanging ignites. She chews the inside of her cheek, and when her eyes drop, she finds an intact spell chalked into the stone—an enchantment for indoor lighting. Clapping twice was, and still is, considered quite tacky for witches.
Sucy strolls into the room, eye wandering. It appears to be an extravagant pantry, stocked full of pastries that have yet to go stale, and ingredients of quite the variety. She's disconcerted when she comes across a full shelf of nothing but pickled plums. The pastries, though, make a hell of a lot more sense upon her new revelation, and now that she looks around with her friend in mind, potatoes might as well be a thing of fantasy. Sucy is still puzzled, however. "…and if I turn the corner, I'll find Akko's dream kitchen," she mutters, monotone, to another door. She pushes it open to find that her witty, cynical comment is accurate. The kitchen also lights itself, and out of the whole dungeon, it's the cleanest room Sucy's come across thus far. Like the pantry—with the chandelier, of all things—, the kitchen is decorated by lavish tapestries, plants, and other extremes that nobody but Akko would think is necessary for a kitchen. (This includes Jasminka.) She rolls her eye and growls, "I was kidding, damn."
However, as she scans the pantry again with the reishi in mind, Sucy rocks her jaw in thought. "I guess I could still have some fun here… Things are a bit different in the dungeon, aren't they?"
"Yes."
Sucy freezes, and she turns to a suit of armor stood beside the kitchen door. It holds, instead of a sword, a spatula, and then some weird cloth down its front. She narrows her eye. "…you weren't supposed to do that."
"Well," it remarks with its visor squeaking every word, "things are a bit different down here."
"Hmm… Guess so," Sucy mumbles. "If that's the case, how—err—effective are potions down here? I'm going to get bored otherwise."
"Poignant."
A grin spreads. "Oh perfect." She looks around the pantry again. The majority is worthless to her in a potion's sense of things. "You wouldn't happen to know how much there is here to brew, do you?"
The suit scratches its head. "Into soups?"
"Potions, not food."
"Ah. Well, there's a limited amount for that." It points to a singular shelf, and then a few more around the room. "There's the salts that I'm sure can be useful, and a few other things you can grind out of, but everything here is pretty much for food." It sniffs (Sucy doesn't know how), then adds, "Knowing you, nothing much for your expertise. Your potions like the more…vile things, right?"
Sucy sighs, and she rubs the back of her neck. "Yeah…they do. Well shit." She folds her arms. "There goes my hope for a fun time."
The suit mirrors her. "You can still have fun," it offers.
"Oh, I know. I'll manage without potions, I guess." She feels around her pockets. Sucy only has the reishi and her wand. With a nod, she says, "Yeah, I don't have any on me…so I'll probably get bored before long if there's not much here." She eyes the suit of armor again, analyzing the weird cloth again. "…are you wearing an apron?"
"Yes. I am the resident chef at the round table." There's a pause as Sucy furrows her brow with a dragged blink, and it prompts the suit of armor to explain, "For knights like the ones in—"
"Yeah, I got that," Sucy drawls. "God, this really is Akko's pantry… I swear she's drawn a stupid armor wearing an apron after getting shitfaced once." The suit of armor squeaks, and Sucy murmurs, "Sorry, no offense."
"…offense taken."
She rolls her eye from hearing the suit of armor's warbled voice. Sucy doesn't really want to find out if armor can cry or not. "You really are Akko's creation… What, did she spend the time to stock this place? And the kitchen?" Sucy squints. "…name you?"
The suit of armor holds out its hand and says, counting on its fingers, "Kind of, she did run through here a while ago. Twice, I think. Right through the kitchen too. Seemed real happy with this set-up, I must say. And…my name is Arthur."
"Of course it is."
"I think it's a great name," Arthur notes.
Sucy rubs her forehead and groans. So no, Akko didn't stock this place. She merely approved of its existence—while running around, apparently, but of course she would—, then named said suit of armor who wears an apron. Great…Although, as Sucy thought more, she murmurs, "I guess pickled plums are preservatives… A dungeon would prefer that over things that'd go bad quickly."
"Exactly!" Arthur exclaims. "Most of the stuff here are like that. Some jerky, and pickled plums, and…jerky. We have a lot of jerky. But we also have croissants, and meats, and cake, and fruits—"
A thought snaps into Sucy's head, and she asks, "Have we been expected?"
"—and… Well of course you all have," the suit of armor answers with a nod. Arthur plays with its spatula. "You all need to eat, right?"
It takes a while for Sucy to murmur, "…yeah, I guess so." She eyes the obscene amount of pickled plums. "And those are there because…Akko likes them?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"…yet no potatoes because…?"
"Too much starch, gets digested so quickly," Arthur explains with a nonchalant hand. "That, and why would we want to be stingy? Luna Nova is above ground. We have standards down here, you know."
Sucy nods slowly. "I…guess." She thinks for a moment, rubbing her chin and casting another glance around the pantry. Maroon lands on the chandelier last. "Anyway, you want to help?" Sucy grins with a light snicker. "I thought of something."
"Ooo! Sounds fun."
"…good," she murmurs, still perturbed by how very Akko everything is in the pantry—and kitchen. Nevertheless, Sucy folds her hands together with her plan stewing in thought. "Now. Are there carrots?"
x | x | x
Like all the rest, the violet team was found in a deep sleep akin to a coma. It doesn't last long, given that when they heard Professor Finnelan's voice, and felt Professor Ursula's gentle hand on their shoulders, those are all it takes before they begin to drift towards consciousness.
Blair is first to open her eyes, and when she groans a long, quiet breath, she sits up. As her gaze sifts through the dark shadows around her, she finds that she, Avery and Mary have been strewn across a rug matted with dust. She mumbles, "W-What happened…?"
"We don't know," Professor Ursula says quietly, knelt beside the girls. "But we will figure that out in time."
Professor Finnelan nods, the pink hue of her wand being what Avery, and then Mary, blink awake to. "It can be discussed once all of our heads are together."
"Are we…?" Mary stands, ignoring Avery's irritated, under-the-breath cussing about the rug. "Are we under the New Moon tower?"
"I believe so," Professor Finnelan says. "I have to admit, though, I haven't ever seen this portion of the dungeon. None of these rooms strike any familiarity besides the architecture."
A gentle hand lands on Professor Finnelan's shoulder, accompanied by a gentle nod. "Yes…but that shouldn't be reason to worry, girls," Professor Ursula cuts in, observing how unease begins to plague the violet team whole. "Luna Nova is quite old. Some of it has been lost behind debris, and I wouldn't be surprised if this whole section was opened up by someone recently."
Avery gets to her feet alongside Blair, and with Mary as her support, she thwacks away the last of the heavy grime that clots her skirt. "And what about the monsters that are supposed to live in here…?" she asks, her unease warped by suspicion. "Have you seen any?"
"No, we haven't," Professor Ursula murmurs, "though I suspect there is something else here. Two of your classmates potentially ran across it."
"W-Who?"
Professor Finnelan clasps her hands together, unbothered by the hand that remains on her shoulder. "Miss Manbavaran and Miss Cavendish. They were one of the first few to wake with Professor Callistis."
"And they ran into trouble, unfortunately," Professor Ursula hums, quite grave. "Hence why we've been trying to wake everyone up."
Boots click against stone, and another light sways through the doorway with the last professor: Nelson. "Alright. See you got them up real quick," she notes.
Professor Finnelan arches a brow. "…where are the other students?"
Exacerbated, Professor Nelson's empty hand raises, guided by her shrug. "Dunno. Finally got up to my feet and went to check the room you said and only found Jasminka and Constanze." Said pair poke their heads in the room. "Dunno where Amanda is. No red or blu—" Her head turns back down the hall. "Oh, well there's the blue pair. You two know where Diana is?"
Those inside the room only hear Hannah and Barbara halt behind Jasminka and Constanze, then the latter of "the blue pair" say, "N-No, we were hoping she was in here."
"We haven't seen her."
"Was separated from you, huh…?" Professor Nelson mumbles, to which she receives what has to be a couple of nods—in sync.
Professor Finnelan sets a hand on her hip with a long, tired breath. "I would've thought Miss Cavendish wouldn't have wandered off…"
"She's probably scouting ahead. Diana's always been one to take an initiative," Professor Ursula offers her.
"I suppose so," is replied. "In any case, Nelson, go find some common room where we can all stay in place."
Professor Nelson nods shortly. "Right. And you'll join with 'em?"
"Yes, we will." With a jutted chin, Professor Nelson ushers the four to follow her down the hall, and as Hannah and Barbara pass, they glance in with pursed, nervous smiles. Professor Finnelan narrows her teal, hawk-like eyes, glances at the violet team, then back again to the hall. She only thinks of the students left wandering the dungeon, unaccounted for. "I feel as though we should've kept everyone together, professor, rather than let them get to their feet alone."
A sigh, and then an agreed, "Yes, I believe so too." Professor Ursula folds her arms. Once her hand lays flat over her mouth, however, Professor Finnelan arches a brow, leaving the younger professor to shrug, a tad sheepish. "I could see if I can round-up some of them while you watch the ones that've kept together?"
"I…suppose…" Professor Finnelan drawls out, hesitant to do so.
Professor Ursula's hum is ripened with humor. "Don't worry so much. I am supposed to be the young-blood here, aren't I?"
"That argument could work both ways."
"But it's only ever used for the one." That retort renders Professor Finnelan mute, and as she wears a quiet smile, Professor Ursula begins to stride out the room. "I'll check in every-so-often, okay?"
Professor Finnelan blinks. "…okay." She nearly jolts from the wink that is sent her way, before the professor is around corner, out of sight. Professor Finnelan glances at the team as they get to their feet, coughs a breath and readjusts her collar, then notes, "Now, you heard her. We're going to be finding a common room or something alike to keep everyone together."
Avery dusts her skirt for the last time (of the hour). "And Professor Ursula…?"
"Will hopefully find some of those that wandered off," is answered hesitantly.
x | x | x
Diana, as promised, had circled back around and went through the rooms where she searched with Akko—including the one where she found Akko.
Her jaw grates at the thought of it. Diana did, indeed, find a fat rat in that room. She thinks back to the poor soul wrapped in the rug, having suffocated to death. She thinks back to combing through gentle, soft brown tufts, her electric-blue eyes heavy with grim sympathy. They now trail along an ever-winding stairwell, highlighted by the glow of her wand.
"A purgatory…" she murmurs. Diana thins her lips. "Such a strange word in itself. I wonder if Sucy realized that…" She thinks back to what Sucy said specifically. What was it…? Her brow tightens, and Diana narrowly avoids tripping over an uneven layer of bricks. Ah. That's right. Aloud, to herself, Diana haunts, "'Like we've been left here to get out…'"
"We're in Luna Nova…
"And we've been here before…
"But the air is…different."
Ominous. Purgatorial. Diana nods along with her thoughts. "Strange. I can't help but think it's malevolent." She stops in place, her fingers traced along her mouth. Diana has been talking to herself. Surely, it's only because the dungeons feel so empty, and therefore she's in need to speak out loud. It could be very dangerous, however, letting her mind wander like that. "I'll have to watch myself…"
Almost immediately, Diana realizes how ironic that verbal sentiment is. Her light smile is more cynical than anything. Ah well. Perhaps I should silence my thoughts all together. As she passes another, though small, mural of a long-since dead witch, Diana keeps a mental note on the face. Once again, Sucy was right: it really does feel like those painted eyes are following her. I don't want to think about what this damn place would plant in my head, more than it already has…
With that, Diana limits her line of thought to mere observations as best as she can.
She nears the height of the stairs, and the ceiling of the stairwell comes to a point. Diana steps onto the final floor up it has led her into, and as she slinks her gaze over, Diana realizes that despite still being underground, this floor is significantly brighter than the one she awoke to, and the one where she found Sucy and Professor Ursula usher both professors awake. Diana lowers her wand, and while the pink light is out, it's at the ready.
From the corner of her eye, Diana catches a faint hue from down the hallway she stepped into. She meanders towards it, and Diana comes across yet another stairwell. This one is decorative and open instead of sunk into a wall, and Diana takes an informed guess by the looks of the gated ring around it that this leads to the surface—of the tower, anyway.
She pauses with furrowed brows. Because it leads to the floor of the tower, with very minimal windows, the light streaming through the bars seems too natural to her—angelic, even. Diana steps up to the grandiose stairwell, and through a locked gate, she looks high above. Something tells her that her informed guess is correct: that this is definitely the way out, and the only one, at that. The exit is right here, for her to unlo—
"A-Ah!"
Diana jolts her hand from the chains and holds it by her wrist. She gasps air and observes the damage: her palm, in one singular streak, is blistered and threatening to slough away. She swallows tenderly and eyes the chain. There is no padlock, and on either side, it looks as if they're never-ending. It is, however, coated with something—laced with malevolence.
Tentatively, Diana steps closer, and she can smell its pungency. This is Sucy's doing, she thinks, layering her hand over her nose and mouth to block the horrid stench. Come to find, the stench is not the chain but rather her hand, which smells too much like rotting, burnt eggs. She tucks it away forcefully. Diana is all-too familiar with Sucy's potions to doubt her conclusion. Although, Diana does wonder why Sucy would've been struck over the head, same as her, if Sucy is the culprit.
Unless Sucy was indeed struck in the head, by Diana—to which the latter sorely lost.
Even though Sucy's indifference and cynicism is consistent with her norm, this thought would at least explain why she was undeterred. Diana slowly nods, though frowns. "Sucy wouldn't go and lock us in here, would she…?" She now starts to doubt herself. If what Professor Ursula said is true, then Diana woke up before Sucy, but being that Akko only woke up three before her temporary disappearance, Sucy was—and is—equally trustworthy. Is that it? Is that the truth?
"I'm not saying this isn't serious, Diana. Okay?
"I know it is."
Diana's head lifts from her hand. Another slice of thought has fallen into place—at least, a scrap of a slice, though it answers enough of her perplexity for the moment. I see now… Yes, so Sucy is still responsible for locking us here. She turns away from the stairwell. Bit-by-bit, she remembers more of Akko's kiss that helped her wake, and she can hear more strings of what she told her. Specifically, she remembers what Akko told her in between the lines, and Diana realizes that Akko's words were given to her and her alone. Of course, it makes sense.
Then there's what Sucy had told her:
"It feels like a purgatory," she had said. "Like we've been left here to get out."
Diana meanders to the tall doors of a grand storage room, thoughts wandering. Yet again, Diana finds herself stuck on the semantics. Purgatory is an interesting way to put it, regardless of whether or not Sucy realized. However, she must have known it was, Diana thinks, otherwise she wouldn't have told her so bluntly. That, and Sucy knew full-well the severity of everything. Diana's initial qualm of Sucy's indifference is incorrect, as it turns out: instead, she takes issue with Sucy's trickster-like morality. She knew Akko's teammate enough to know that about her.
Tight-lipped, Diana pushes into the storage room, and her eyes wander.
The sheer scope of the room weighs heavy on Diana's shoulders, and even though she can save the energy of holding her wand—the lanterns along the wall are lit—, she still feels utterly exhausted for the first time in the dungeon. Under her breath, Diana exhales, "Sucy, you thorn in my side." Diana flexes her hand which has already scarred over, the stench of eggs diminished. "You really know how to get under my skin."
Irritation towards said witch set aside, Diana stands in the mouth of the storage room. Her eyes roam, and after a few moments, she follows where they take her. Steamer trunks, tall wardrobes, impressive bookcases—Diana searches through them all, meticulously combing through the space row-by-row. However, once sunk in the middle of everything (or rather, ankle-deep in junk that had fallen over), she stops.
She mutters, "I'm going about this all wrong…"
Diana abandons her strategy, including the pile of junk she'd began to bury herself in. Back at the doorway, she pauses and allows her eyes to roam again. This time, however, she scans the room for whatever would surely catch the attention of someone scatter-brained. Immediately, her first thought stitches to the clocks to her right—ticking away, most with special chimes for the hour including a coo-coo bird.
That would lure someone like Akko… she thinks.
Although, when Diana meanders over, she finds that their small drawers are empty. Diana scowls, but another thought occurs to her: she is the first one to come this far. All the rest are being woken up many levels below this one, and she knows that the professors will be keen on getting everyone together. So as she recounts Akko's words to her once more, Diana rattles her brain for the specific phrasing, as well as the instances where Akko pulled herself into deep—if temporary—thought.
"Be creative… I think it'll work."
Diana rubs her forehead on either side, and she swallows tightly. Dammit. Damn it… Diana isn't creative. She doesn't know what she's doing. She can't tell if slipping away to climb all these stairs was actually a good idea. All she figured out is that the only way out is blocked by Sucy's potion, and that this storage room is big with nothing really of value, and why couldn't Diana be like Akko?! Akko's most adoring quality is her creativity, matched by her enthusiasm.
So despite being her girlfriend of many, many months, Diana simply isn't Akko. She can't be creative. She just tried thinking like Akko, but already, a minute in, Diana feels underdeveloped for what Akko asked of her—to a severe degree. Diana begins to pace down the wall, holding her arms and working her jaw. What do you want me to do, Akko?! I'm completely out of my element. What—
She halts, then back-tracks several strides. There's an old-fashioned, metal distillery. The copper shimmers in the lanternlight cast above, free of dust. Diana blinks. Even though this room is stocked by every kind of thing imaginable, this doesn't belong. It looks as if it had been magicked out of thin air. She can only utter one blank thought:
"Oh?"
x | x | x
I didn't expect to find the majority in the dining room, though I can't say that I wasn't surprised. The core of this level is the dining room, so it's only natural that they'd wind up here. That, and this room is practically offers itself for congregation; large paintings hang from the walls, and adorned between each are lit, hanging lanterns. There's a long table with fifteen seats—seven on either side, then a final, throne-like armchair. It's warm. It's inviting. Of course they'd be here.
I stroll away from the grandfather clock as the latch clicks shut, eyeing everyone as they talk about…whatever. Professors Nelson and Finnelan are at the end, with the former leaned into her chair, legs propped up on the table. Constanze, Jasminka, Hannah, Barbara and the violet team sit towards the middle.
Which leads me to sit at the helm.
To sit at my designated spot.
Right at the end. On the throne.
Despite the dark, coarse wood, the padded cushions make for a nice seat, one that I sink into in delight. This is the perfect spot. Everything in the dining room is there for me to overlook when in my thro—
There's a snorted laugh that pulls my attention over to Mary. "What…?" I drawl.
She shakes her head with an amused grin. "It's just funny how you assumed the head of the table so quickly," Mary notes, "instead of one of the professors."
I shrug. "I like being here."
"Well yeah. As anyone would." Her eyes flick upwards before they hold themselves there. Brow arched, Mary asks, "If that's yours, then explain the initials carved into the chair."
"Eh?" I look up the back of my seat. S.M. "Oh, that's easy." I thrust my index to the letters. "So. Mine." Mary's eyes are rolled when I watch her again. "See? It's mine. That means I sit here."
"Alright, alright. You've made your point," she says. Before Mary can turn back to whatever conversation, the double doors click. A wide, golden handle turns, and hinges whine. Everyone at the table stills as a lit wand followed by boots step into the hall…
Ah. Professor Ursula.
From behind oval glasses, her eyes find Professor Finnelan first. "I told you that I'd check back in…"
Professor Finnelan visibly relaxes, and her newfound smile doesn't seem to plan on leaving. "I know, I know…" she says.
"Who's all in here?" Professor Ursula asks, glancing across the way.
Professor Nelson waves in our direction. "Same as befo—" She looks over and barks, "Ah! When did you slip in here, Akko?"
"A little bit ago," I reply nonchalantly.
Mary snorts the same laugh: "And made a beeline to the head of the table."
The professors chuckle. "That's not a surprise," Professor Ursula murmurs warmly, and her gaze lands on me. She arches a brow, then her head tilts, as if she's confused to see me at the end. It isn't a surprise. She knows me well. She knows me very well, so why—?! "Akko, did you lose your hat…?"
"Eh? Oh, yeah," I say, somewhat frazzled by my internal whiplash. "I probably put it somewhere and got it lost. Place is dark and all."
"Yes, it is…" Her eyes drag across the table. "Huh. I wonder if there's another throne like that around or if it's just the one…"
"Probably just the one," Professor Finnelan says, scanning the room. "If this portion is anything like what we know of the dungeons, it's built for each witch to maintain."
"I don't know…" Professor Nelson hums, elbowing the professor's side. "Some say that there's two heads for every good man and table."
Professor Finnelan blinks, visibly dumbstruck, before she deflates into a glower. Across Professor Nelson's howl of laughter, she remarks, "As if either one of us actually care about the former, Nel."
"It was the perfect opportunity," Professor Nelson chirps, wiping her eyes. She clears her throat, however, and I'm only able to catch, "Now…speaking of, again, I haven't heard a peep from any of the typical monsters…" They're back at it, lulling over the nature of this dungeon—with Professor Ursula in tow, sitting beside Professor Finnelan.
I rest my head into my hand, but, my gaze fixates on the last professor. Her dark, raven-blue hair. Her building confidence the more time she spends in here… I gnaw the inside of my cheek. Damn hat. How am I supposed to know where it went? Scowled, I glance over to the grandfather clock, then the few other decorative reflections hung on the walls. It's a nice room. Spacious. Warm. Cozy. All despite the fact that we're supposedly hundreds of feet below ground. At the very least, you can't smell the mold or dust in here. It's probably too close to its paired kitchen for that.
…actually, I wonder if something's cooking. My eyes shifts over to the back door. The small, barred window is fogged and lit. Someone's definitely in there brewing something. I hum. Perhaps the dungeon is more lively than I expected.
"Okay, but are these edible?!"
My eyes snap over to Hannah. Speaking of food I guess… Is this really what they've been going on about? It's then I realize whythey're all sat towards the middle: sat dead center of the table is a huge bowl, absolutely pregnant with whatever fruit. Apples. Peaches. Umeboshi. Apricots. Those kind. The tree kind of fruits.
With her wand ignited into a fine yellow, Jasminka prods the small pile she'd meticulously plucked out of the bowl. "Whether or not they are, they're safe," she notes. "I'm not picking up anything wrong."
"Good," Barbara grumbles. "Because I'm bored."
"I can see if…" Jasminka exhales, and picked up from the pile an apple. She squeezes it, and then, she bites. Even from here, I can tell how ripe the apple is from sound alone. Jasminka smiles with a nod. "These are real," she says.
"All of them?" Blair asks, bubbled by excitement. Jasminka nods, and immediately, the blonde digs in—starting with an apricot. Or a peach. They look the same. Might as well be cousins. Everyone at the center follows suit, and they all take a collective bite.
Before Mary spits, jolts in her seat, and one of the umeboshi rockets across the room and straight into the wall. "W-What is— Naugh!Ack—! What the f—?!"
"…oh yeah, those are pickled plums, aren't they?" Hannah drawls. Her hand toys with Barbara's, and with the other, she nibbles a bite of an apple. Mary stares at her, lips puckered. "Yeah, I could smell them from here. Akko has a fetish for—"
A groan rips from the depths of my throat. "Oh please. They're nice and sour, and the best with rice."
Hannah watches me, blinks, and mutters, "…right." She turns to Constanze's grunt with a humored grin. "Fell for it too, didn't you?"
Constanze weighs her head on either side with a shrug. There's a bite of a peach sat in front of her, beside the abandoned umeboshi. Apparently curiosity got the best of her, and she's as much of a chump as the rest of them. Fools. She offers her own review with a thumbs-down.
I roll my eyes. "You all are uncultured," I growl. "I thought we were supposed to appreciate each other's backgrounds, not shit all over my ume."
"Shit all over your what now?"
"…that?" They all stare. I sag back into my seat. "Forget it."
Avery arches a brow. "Um, then do you want them? There's a whole bunch of the stuff."
"Not hungry," I murmur, just as sour as the umeboshi. "I'll eat later."
Avery shrugs. "Suit yourself, I guess."
Holding her apricot, Blair leans forward. "Are you sure…?"
"Yeah. Not feeling hungry."
"Well, I guess that means you won't miss this peach," Barbara murmurs. She and Hannah share eye contact for a moment. I roll my eyes. If Amanda and Lotte are the lovebirds, these two could be a pair of rabbits if they were official. Nevertheless, there seems to have been a whole ass conversation between them in that moment about the stupid peach. Once Barbara pockets it for later, her lips crease tightly in thought. "Why is there fresh fruit down here…?" she asks, as if the thought had only just struck her dumb. "The kitchen doesn't bring food down, does it?"
"I…don't think so," Mary answers, too struck by confusion. "That is a little strange, isn't it? Unless it's all magicked."
I wave my hand and say, pointedly, "Well I don't see any of you dropping dead, so it's not poisoned. Just take it for what it is."
"But most poisons get you sick first, Akko," Jasminka intervenes, halfway through her light snack. "We wouldn't know that immediately if I didn't check with my spell."
"Right, yeah. Still, you checked so…" I shrug. "No point in biting whatever hand fed you all." They all murmur along their thoughts, too far under their breaths to properly hear. And then, they're back to droning on and on about whatever unimportant thing.
My attention clips back over to the professors once Professor Ursula stands. She eyes the grandfather clock. First her reflection as the pendulum swings across the interior mirror, and then the face as the hands tick away. "I think…I'll go back out again to search for the five. They shouldn't be too far off."
A snort, then a pessimistic, "They shouldn't be." Professor Nelson folds her arms and crosses her legs, bootheels still on the corner of the table. "If they're smart, they would've stayed on this floor. But students get cocky, and all that."
"Yes, I suppose," Professor Ursula laughs. "Which is why I'll go to reign them back in. I shouldn't be long."
Professor Finnelan shifts in her seat. "It would be wise if we rotated who—"
"Young blood," Professor Ursula says, with a hint of sass that I never would've thought would strike her. "And if of the little monsters were to pop out, wherever they are, I can run faster than either of you."
Resigned, "I guess so…" is the only reply. "Just…be careful, professor," is added.
Professor Nelson, agrees: "Yeah, reel them all back over here. Don't want to be cleaving what group we have."
"I will, I will," Professor Ursula promises with each stride out the dining hall. She leaves with one last look over her shoulder, wand raised and lit. The door shuts behind her, and that's that.
I drum the length of the chair's arm. Diana, Lotte, Amanda, and then Sucy… Another glance at the door. And now the professor again. I chew the inside of my cheek in thought. Frowned, I start to wonder… Where have they been? Amanda and Lotte are probably just dicking around—more specifically, Amanda doing the dicking around and Lotte trying to keep up with her, then dragging Amanda away from whatever to come to us. Right… Sucy and Diana though…
The drumming stops. I swallow.
Diana is probably looking around. Getting her grounds. Sucy though. Sucy's scheming, no doubt. Concocting something wicked. I rub my jawline. I need to find them… Diana in particular. A slow, calculative nod. I should've been keeping my eye on her. We shouldn't have separated. In case something happens…
Dammit. I need to go. If not to find her, to ensure I will be able to throughout our time here.
I glance at the professors. Both are still combing over what to do, how to navigate their way out of the dungeon, no doubt. Where the exit could be. Whether or not there are monsters around.
Quietly, I stand from the head of the table and start strolling towards the kitchen. When Mary's attention follows me, I jerk my chin and say, "I want to find Diana. I haven't seen her in a bit."
Her nod is slow—one of understanding. "Alright. Good luck."
I slip into the kitchen, and my brows furrow. A suit of armor with an apron stands at the cooking pot on the other side. It stirs while humming to itself, and I can smell the spices of a soup or stew. …alright then. I guess we're having dinner.
Leaving it be, I stride towards a mirror that hangs over the sink. I eye the collar of my shirt. Damn. The fucking tie is loose. How the hell did I already—?
"Would you mind explaining why there's so many damn plums in this place, Akko?"
For the love of— I twist around. Oh. It's just Sucy again. She stands behind me, brow raised and half-cloak gone. Her sleeves are rolled to her elbows. My eyes trail their way towards the door to the pantry, and I see the cloak hanging on a rack. …okay. I guess an alchemist can cook too. I glance at the suit of armor who paused in its cooking to look around. Kind of. "Is that supposed to be dinner?" I ask.
"No, the armor's doing my laundry." I scowl, and it's followed by her retort: "Of course it's fucking dinner, Akko. Might as well put the food to good use."
"Right." I fold my arms. Sucy really is a bitch, isn't she? Not at a rat's level, of course, but still… How is she supposed to be my friend again? "None of the pickled plums though, I'm guessing?"
Sucy scoffs. "I'm not making your dinner, Akko. Other people have to eat it." She steps closer and flicks her hand at me. "Now move over. I need to wash my hands." I oblige. The faucet turns with a squeak, and water plummets without any sense of grace. Unbothered, Sucy lathers her hands with it; head down, monotone, she asks the armor, "How far along are you with it, Arthur? Is it ready for the last few things?"
"The broth is smoldering deliciously, ma'am!" the armor answers, almost as if it's actually proud with itself.
"Is it ready, Arthur?" Sucy grates, echoing my sliver of irritation. "I don't care how the broth is boiling, I'm asking if it is."
"It is! Most definitely, it is!" it chimes. "While undoubtedly delicious!"
Sucy pauses, and her eye meets mine. For the first time, our thoughts are identical: How did I get myself here?
"…right," I grumble. "I'm just going to go."
"Uh huh," Sucy grunts in turn. Ignoring the armor all the way, I cross over to the pantry and linger at the doorway. I look over my shoulder. Sucy is still scrubbing her skin away with the hot water, paying no mind. Good. I step through, and I'm instantly met by a brisk chill. I leave the kitchen in its entirety.
I hope to find better company. Better than the droning chatter in the dining room. Certainly better than Sucy. But if I do end up coming across a filthy rat…
Well then, there better be traps laying around.
x | x | x
To say Amanda is guilt-ridden is an understatement. One minute, she was by Lotte's side. The next minute, she was giggling at one of the paintings with quite the lesbianism depiction, not with her girlfriend. So now, she's stuck traversing this intestine-esque trail of corridors leading to rooms that, to be quite frank, she hasn't the slightest clue of their purpose. Maybe they're more storage rooms, or maybe they're a hoarder's bed chambers—who knows?!
Amanda scowls. The longer she's stuck with her wand's pink, the more she hopes that the blue of Lotte's lantern finds her. That or the spir—
Something tugs at her sock. She looks down. Speak of the devil… A blue spirit hobbles around her shoe, and smile wide, Amanda looks up to Lotte's empty lantern and lit wand. "You found me!"
"I did, bear…" Lotte sighs. "You got distracted by Deux sorcières aux chandelles, didn't you?"
"How could I not?!" Amanda says, already quite defensive. "The one in all black's totally up the other one's butt at knuckle three!"
The lantern's spirit is quick to scramble back into the safety of the skull, and Lotte is left to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Amanda… I doubt a sixteenth-century witch knew anything about anal."
"…wanna bet?"
"…n-nO." Amanda pauses, and when her eyes shift down the hall, towards a few bed chambers that she passed, Lotte took the hint. "We're not having our first time here."
Again, defensively, Amanda sputters, "W-Well, not right now! But, like…" She frowns, gathering some recollection. "We were planning to do it tonight, right? It's Halloween."
Beet-red, Lotte tenses her lips, eyes wide from behind her glasses. "I…guess it is Halloween," she murmurs. Lotte rubs the side of her head. "It is, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Amanda says with a nod. "I…kind of remember, u-um." Her cheeks burn the same color as her girlfriend's. "Trying to make this, uh, blanket-thing— Quilt. Quilt. Um, yeah, before Constanze and Jasminka passed out." Lotte's frown deepens, and she massages her jawline. "You don't…remember where you were before we got here?"
"No, I don't…" She watches Amanda. "'Passed out?' Like from a spell, or…?"
There's a simple shrug. "I dunno. Maybe something in the air, and then we got snatched in our sleep."
"I guess that makes sense," Lotte murmurs. "Someone must've forgot to do the extra layer of enchantments to keep everything down here. They get really active around this time of year, don't they?"
"Yeah." Amanda sets her hands on her hips and looks around. "Pretty empty now, though. Think we'll have to round 'em up when we get out of here?"
"That, or they're all hiding on higher floors, trying to get out." Lotte hesitates, then taps her wand along the edge of the skull lantern. It ignites, and Lotte pockets her wand. In unison, the couple begins to meander along the corridor. "I wouldn't be surprised if they're trying to ambush the rest of the professors to get out," Lotte continues. "And just used us as ransom or something."
Amanda scratches her jaw. "Probably."
The stroll in silence for some time, and as they pass the paintings hung on the walls, Lotte makes herself sure to stay put by Amanda's side in case there's another distraction. (There are several points where said witch fixates on funny little details.)
After a while, they step into hallways where the lantern isn't enough light—oddly enough—, so Amanda pulls out her wand. Pink illuminates, melding with the skull's blue. There's a frown. "You know…the pink doesn't really cut it."
Lotte raises a brow. "What do you mean? It looks fine to me."
"Well, yeah, it looks fine. But…pink? Why not purple or green or something?"
"…is this about color theory?"
"N-No, it's not about color theory!" Lotte eases a quiet laugh. "What?!"
A shrug, then another few giggles. "Oh, bear… You can be a little artist if you want," Lotte jokes. "I'm not going to judge."
Amanda sighs with a gentle grin. "Well if that's the case, don't be surprised that there's a bunch of green in the quilt I made."
x | x | x
Professor Finnelan eyes the grandfather clock beside the table. She clicks her tongue off the roof of her mouth and stands from her tall, wooden chair. "Professor Callistis has been gone for too long…"
The students at the other end of the table look up. Professor Nelson, from beside her colleague, nods. "Yeah, shit… It's been almost an hour."
"There's also Diana and Sucy," Hannah says, her hand toying with Barbara's. "I haven't seen them at all."
Barbara adds, "Akko, and Amanda and Lotte too."
"Yes, it is troubling," Professor Finnelan murmurs. "I hope they've at least found each other with Professor Callistis."
Professor Nelson rolls her shoulder before she leans forward. "You gonna look, Finny?"
Her eyes finally tear away from the clock. "I am. She checked back in within the hour, after searching through several floors. I don't know what's on this floor or the ones above, but…"
"Bad feeling?"
"Horrible."
Hannah and Barbara look at each other, then the former asks, "We could help?"
"Just in case."
Professor Finnelan slowly nods, her brows sewn together. "Yes…I suppose that would help things. Though, I don't believe you both should go."
The pair frown, confused, before Professor Nelson shifts in her chair. "We're not about to be missing a whole team, now," she grunts.
Hannah and Barbara deflate as the latter mumbles, "I guess that's true…"
"I can go with one of you," Avery offers.
There's a moment of consideration, to which Barbara says, "You can go. I can stay with the bowl."
"…fruity," Hannah chuckles. Barbara rolls her eyes, though she murmurs a quiet good luck when her teammate stands from the table. "Okay, then we'll try to find some people too." Avery nods, and the two students watch Professor Finnelan.
"Alright. Keep your wands out then." The students round the table and follow their professor out into the hall. The pink of Hannah's wand blinks to nothing once she realizes that it's not needed: the lanterns hung high above are all lit, though as the three look down either way, they realize that the further from the dining hall the corridor goes, the fewer and fewer of those lanterns ignited. The wand isn't needed—for now. "I see… The dining hall may be the heart of this level," Professor Finnelan murmurs.
Avery asks, "Which way? This place is huge."
Professor Finnelan nods. "It is indeed. Navigating it thus far to find everyone was a tad challenging. I woke up a floor below this one. Your team and green were the only ones on this level, though fortunately, it sounds like everyone was by that main staircase." She turns to face them both. "Search the lit areas first, and the rooms attached. If you end up running into a shadowed end, use your wands and stay close, on this floor."
Hannah and Avery bob their heads in unison. "Okay."
"Now…if I'm not mistaken, to the left is where we came from. You girls go to where we're familiar with, and I'll go down to the right," she says. Both nod and start their search, leaving Professor Finnelan down the other way.
Her wand is pulled out almost immediately once heels click away from the lit corridor. Professor Finnelan swallows her nerves as the shadows begin to suffocate every surface around her; she's soon only enclosed by the pink hue of her wand—nothing else. So, the professor stalks with care, eyes shifting to either side of the corridors. Most rooms are small. Her light drowns them, and, unfortunately, there's no one in sight.
Professor Finnelan gnaws the inside of her cheek. More rooms. Closets. Lounges. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
And finally stairs, which are out of the question for the meantime, and then another short passageway—one that she can barely make out with what vision she has. Lanternlight seeps across the brick floor, and Professor Finnelan can see the edge of said wall-fixture from around the corner. Damn. So she did follow a loop. With a sigh, Professor Finnelan follows the light and hopes that Hannah and Avery has had better luck.
However, as she steps into the hall, the witch finds that she doesn't recognize the grandiose tapestry—one of Beatrix Cavendish stroking the mane of a unicorn—that hangs beside her, at the end of this corridor, nor has she seen a rug similar to the pristine one that coats the—
A whistle sounds.
It's clipped and short, air through purposed lips.
Professor Finnelan tilts her head with narrowed eyes. So this is a different section after all… The corridor leads to one room, and there is no one in sight. Professor Finnelan's wand extends, and while she's hesitant, she doesn't doubt the possibility that one of her students would find humor in an impromptu prank—at the moment, when the true nature of things has yet to reveal itself. Heels echo down the hallway as she meanders across the side of the rug, passing several large paintings where their eyes follow, and sharp teal is drawn to the tall, mighty doors of maple and ironwork. They're cracked, and through the person-wide sliver between, the room inside is as black as night. The row of lanterns lit end directly in front of the doorway, as well.
She scoffs. "Well this doesn't look like a trap at all…" Professor Finnelan mutters, quite aware just how suspicious the open doors are. She shifts her attention to her left where another individual-wide gap is, equally as tight as the doors; to be honest, it's a poor excuse of a hallway, though she knows that it's a second option to stride down.
Regardless, be it her ingrained duty to triple-check the possibility that her students, and especially Professor Ursula, would find themselves in trouble, Professor Finnelan heaves a breath and shimmies her way through the double doors—claiming the first option. The wand ignites into a bright orange, and she flicks the light off the tip. Professor Finnelan wordlessly beckons it to follow her, hovered over her shoulder.
At first glance, it's just a storage room. After more time, however, the wand's light makes it clear that this is in actuality a crypt: the rows of shelving, narrowed towards her, that Professor Finnelan sees are for offerings; there's coffins erected from the stone on the other side, to her right, all scattered in such a way that she wonders if there's a pattern that isn't clear from ground-level. Her eyes lift, and Professor Finnelan sees the outlines of a few overhangs from a floor above.
Professor Finnelan steps further into the room, and she calls out the first name to come to mind:
"Miss Manbavaran?"
As much as she hates to admit, Sucy Manbavaran, out of all her students, would be the one to lure her professor into a space such as this. Granted, the girl seldom ever speaks in class, so the thought that she'd interact with Professor Finnelan in this manner is unlikely. That, and then there are the essays Sucy turns in: while not the highest of the class, Sucy does her work thoroughly, and the only criticisms Professor Finnelan ever gave through her marks were minor mistakes that she expects her students to do anyway. In short, while responsible, Sucy never struck Professor Finnelan as the type to associate much with her professors.
However, Professor Finnelan also knows her reputation from sprinkled comments told to her directly, if not the conversations she'd walked past in the halls. That reputation isn't the most kindly either. She knows that Sucy is largely indifferent in her temperament, and merely eccentric in her ways. That said, if Professor Finnelan is honest with herself, if ever Lukić and Sucy switched places where Sucy is the potion's master with two-hundred years in the bag, she'd be downright terrified.
The potions Professor Finnelan has heard that Sucy has brewed… Her colleague would always fawn over their potency. A sort of reflection of Sucy's true character, she'd argue.
So yes—as much as Sucy is a good student all things considered, Professor Finnelan knows enough to call her name.
It is a relief, then, that Professor Finnelan doesn't hear a response. However: I don't think Miss Manbavaran would answer either way… She continues to step carefully along the crypt, eyes sifting between the shelves before darting to the coffins, then back again. Professor Finnelan swallows, and unsurely, she asks, "Professor Callistis?"
There's no answer.
"…Ursula?" Professor Finnelan tries again, a soft, tender side of her slipping through her voice. "Are you in here?"
Again, there's no answer.
Professor Finnelan knows there's something very wrong.
The moment her name slipped out, her intuition began to tug. And it's relentless, how much it continues to do so with every step.
She searches through the dark where her magicked light doesn't yet reach, knowing that there is something amiss. It's inexplicable, what her intuition tells her. Her intuition tells her that Professor Ursula is, indeed, in here with her, but she wasn't who whistled, no. Her heels echo against the stone, and with each step, Professor Finnelan is more and more aware of the eyes that watch her. The eyes aren't stuck to a painting. Instead, they breathe with the body they're attached to.
The eyes that watch her are with the one who whistled.
She starts by scanning the coffins, mind incrementally racing through the unease of the room.
Professor Finnelan is quite aware in what she's doing. Her curiosity—the very same that killed the cat—has been through many, many years of teaching. This is the first time in a while where she questions it, the instinct to investigate the dark corners of Luna Nova for a stray monster or a pair of students—either way, trouble to discipline. Her curiosity, too, has been primed by her growing concern over the young professor, who consistently gets herself into trouble, though in different ways; this does include getting herself caught tangled by a creature's mischief, as well as her own two left feet sending her straight into a tight corner.
…this isn't one of those times, however.
If there are monsters down here, they are quiet. They are calculating. They aren't the typical brutes, nor the tricksters, that commonly live down here. And if those all escaped, then what's left are… Professor Finnelan swallows.
Her students, if they are, in fact, playing games, there isn't a promised detention. All Professor Finnelan needs is for them to be all together, and once that is done with, they can collectively leave the damn place. She doesn't care about anything else.
Most of all, however, the trouble Professor Finnelan feels that Professor Ursula has gotten herself tangled-up in, it's a grave one. That inexplicable intuition, it tells her so. And as she looks upon the last of the coffins, all of which are open and emptied, the professor can't shake the terrifying thought. It rattles her to the marrow.
Professor Finnelan backs away from the stone casket, holding herself by the wrist. She hopes that her anxiety for Professor Ursula's circumstance has been influenced by only her search across the coffins. The orange glow hung above her shoulder begins to slink towards the shelves where they stand in rows, brimmed with offerings. Glass and coins glimmer against her wand's detached light, and after a swallowed moment, Professor Finnelan starts the sweep through those rows.
There isn't anything but those offerings. The riches, the petrified foods, the scriptures—none are what Professor Finnelan wants to find. She just wants to find Ursula. That's all Anne wants, to the point where, as she passes each row, she can feel the strict lines of her face mellow with worry.
Anne wants to call out for her.
However, that's when she sees it:
The light of her spell catches dark blue hair, through several shelves, like Ursula is turned away. Anne frowns; she hates how the crypt suddenly reads nothing but a dire fate. Her thoughts race. Anne knows full well that, at this point, Ursula would've tripped over something to find her at the door, or knocked into something from being startled by Anne's voice, or an odd shamble of both—most definitely an odd shamble of both. She would've also been spooked by the light. Instead of a bush, she'd get herself tangled in the shelves for Anne to help pull her back to her feet.
That, and Ursula would've had a light of her own, and she most certainly would never, ever, whistle at Anne to follow her.
"Ch— Ursula…?" Anne breathes, creeping towards the younger woman with care. "Are you…" Her teal eyes flick to the ground, and she sees Ursula's boot-heel. "…alright…?"
The sight she walks upon is a grisly one, and it punctures Anne right through her throbbing heart:
Ursula's body lays on the ground. The splintered glass of her oval spectacles shine against the light over the professor's shoulder, and her black choker is strewn across the brick floor, slashed. Blood pools from her neck, drenched into the grout of the floor.
Then there is Ursula's head, which sits on the shelf, eye-level.
Throat knotted, Anne breathes, "You poor thing…"
She reaches for poor Ursula, and numbly, her tender hands remove the head from the shelf. Ursula's skin isn't cold, though Anne feels as if the warmth of her compassion has been drained, left to seep into the wood of the shelf, and then pool across the stone floor. Teal eyes soften from rock to dough, and Anne wearily turns the head over.
Ursula's face is frozen in shock, though there's something subtly aware about her expression—as if the horror of her demise hadn't yet registered. In fact, it looks as if Ursula knew her fate. She had to have. Anne thinks perhaps there was a conversation, if short, and Ursula was well-aware of the why behind her murder. The horror that hadn't yet registered, however, was the how. Rather than a dark spell, or the simple knife to the chest, her demise was the mutilation of her choker.
The lines of the professor's face harden, and so does teal. Anne hates the drab layer that coats the rich crimson of Ursula's eyes. She thinks of red velvet, baked for her after long afternoons of grading essays. Never mind Ursula's presumed acceptance of her own ill fate. Anne feels tethered to the stone she stands on. Her thoughts stall on crimson and red velvet. She can't let go of her stupor to find her way out the room.
No, she can't. Anne, in a whisper, asks the only strand of sense she finds within herself: "Who did this to you…?"
"…fraetor."
Anne hears the ache and snap of string, and she twists towards the perpetrator on instinct. Wand raised, and Ursula's head tucked gingerly in her arm, the teal of her eyes snag the face outlined by her spell's glow. There is a cloak, and there is a witch's hat. The horror of finding Ursula tethered her to the ground, but the face illuminated from within the shadows, that is what rattles her rational to asphyxiation. Her question has been answered, and she hates what she now knows.
Stricken, Anne snaps, "How could—?!" There is no time to ask the how or the why. She chokes on her breath. Her head is knocked backwards. As Anne's weight lugs forward, blood spatters at her feet from her eye—gouged into her skull with a golden arrow.
Anne thinks of her whiskey, and how it would ease the sudden agony split through her head.
She staggers, and a side-door opens. A wand guides the sharp blanket of light from the doorway, igniting the shadows caked within the blood—both cold and fresh—to a saturated maroon. Professor Finnelan can barely make out the rest of the cloaked figure, before she is turned towards the appalled, "What happened here?!"
The glow magicked to Professor Finnelan's shoulder goes out as the teal in her eyes desaturates of verve. Professor Nelson is at the door, eyes bulged as they watch Professor Finnelan's body slump over with Professor Ursula's head. The cloaked figure—the perpetrator, the killer—surges forward, and all time slows for the only professor left.
Then, the professor acts on impulse.
x | x | x
For fuck's sake.
I hear footsteps, so now all of my energy is being spent moving this one stupid mirror. They better not be bringing any trouble. I sure hope not. This place invites trouble, and it might as well do it with a letter.
The wood of the frame digs into the stone, and I can feel every ounce of strength just slough away. But I can do it. Just to this corner… I look on either side. To my right, a long hallway with an ajar door, and to the left, another long hallway—with Avery and Hannah wandering around. I tighten my jaw as I continue to heave the stupid mirror (how fucking heavy can these things be?!) over to the spot.
"Akko?! Is that you?!" Hannah barks.
I hesitate with a clenched jaw, then look over my shoulder. "Yeah?! What are you two doing?!"
Avery snorts a breath as they stall to a halt, just a few paces from me. "Looking for you and some of the others, what else?"
"Yeah, yeah, okay," I grunt. The wood of the mirror's frame continues to skid against the stone. "I'm just moving this over. Found it in a room over there."
Hannah turns to the open door I left behind, brow arched. "…why?"
"So we can look around corners?" I grumble. "Just because I don't trust this place."
Avery folds her arms. "Smart, I guess. Do you need hel—"
"No, I don't need help."
She pauses. "…okay, I was just asking before you throw your back out." I roll my eyes and continue to push. "Um, anyway…know where anybody else is?"
"Nope," I manage. Just another half a meter…
"Lotte and Amanda?"
"Probably walking around."
Hannah scoffs. "Well no shit, Akko."
"Um, well," Avery continues, "then Sucy?" I only hand a loose shrug as I finally tilt the mirror in place.
"…probably lurking, if I had to guess," Hannah murmurs; she scoffs another breath and adds, "I wouldn't be surprised if this whole thing was a sick joke of hers."
With a stretch, I'm through with fighting the damn mirror. I turn around and say, "That does sound like her."
Avery nods. "I mean, yeah, I guess you of all people would know. I can hear whenever you whine about her experiments through the dorm."
I fold my arms, very much offended, and hiss, "I'm not that loud."
"Yeah you are. Guinea pig."
This girl… I internally stew. I wouldn't mind seeing her get knocked over the head by a bat. I grouch and wave her off with a rolled, irritable shrug. "Whatever. Anyway, because of me, we can see around the corner, so."
"Because of you?" Hannah snorts. She folds her arms, mirroring me, and arches a brow. "Is it that time of the month for you?"
My eyes flash, and snarl pulled, I snap, "No?! Where'd you get that from?!"
Hannah shrugs with a quirked, amused smile. "Diana says you get all cocky when you're on your period, so…"
It's my glower that plummets the conversation into a drawled silence. They watch me with eyes narrowed, arms folded. Well then. Could they leave me alone now? I open my mouth to murmur—
"THEY'RE DEAD!"
Both Avery and Hannah simultaneously freeze. We hear boots thunder against the stone, through the lengthy rug in this hallway. Necks craned over, we watch Professor Nelson as she stampedes towards us. Her eyes are wide, and she's the palest she could possibly be. "GET EVERYONE BACK TOGETHER!" she snaps. "THE TWO PROFESSORS ARE DEAD!"
My blood runs frigid.
"W-Wh… What…?" Hannah breathes. "How is Finnelan…?"
They are w-what?! I blink a layer of my stupor away. Gone. Dead. The professors. I swallow. For. Fuck's. Sake. I work my jaw, and I glance over my shoulder to the mirror. It glints against the hue of pink—one wand kept solidly in Avery's hand whilst the other, Hannah's, is at her feet.
Vermin. And it's on the loose, scurrying around this damn place…
It has no fucking right, killing those around me.
[COMATOSE]
[Chapter Summary]:
[Red Team]
ATSUKO "AKKO" KAGARI — ALIVE
The first to awake in the dungeon.
Woke up DIANA, SUCY, and PROF. URSULA—in that order.
Disappeared and was found by DIANA.
Doesn't like the rats found in the dungeon.
SUCY MANBAVARAN — ALIVE
Realized that it was her blood pooled on the ground, from her head.
Missed (and still misses) the dungeon from first-year.
Feels that there is something off with the dungeon.
Enlisted a suit of armor wearing an apron to help her.
LOTTE JANSSON — ALIVE
Worried about what may lurk in the dungeon with them.
Comforted by AMANDA's promise to protect her like Arthur from Volume 198.
Anxious over AMANDA getting lost again.
Quietly hates the thought of losing her glasses, or her lantern.
[Blue Team]
DIANA CAVENDISH — ALIVE
Woke up with a pain to the back of her head, then subsequently startled by SUCY.
Questions SUCY's friendship with AKKO.
Agreed with SUCY that something is not right.
Found AKKO with the rug.
HANNAH ENGLAND — ALIVE
Held BARBARA's hand for comfort.
Searched for DIANA and SUCY with HANNAH.
Thought that this whole thing could've been a sick joke of SUCY's.
Shaken when PROF. NELSON yelled that the other two professors are dead—by a killer's hand.
BARBARA PARKER — ALIVE
Held HANNAH's hand for comfort.
Cold in the dungeon, so it's a good thing that HANNAH is warm.
Pocketed a peach to share with HANNAH later.
Wonders how and why there is fresh produce so far from the kitchens—in a creepy dungeon, no less.
[Green Team]
AMANDA O'NEILL — ALIVE
Happy to be woken up by LOTTE.
Adamant that LOTTE stay by her side, even when she gets them both lost.
Feels guilty that she got lost without LOTTE anyway.
Thinks wands look better green.
CONSTANZE AMALIE VON BRAUNSCHBANK-ALBRECHTSBERGER — ALIVE
Stuck with PROF. NELSON.
There are no Stanbots to speak.
Made a mental-note to find a way to build one during her time in the dungeon.
Ate a pickled plum out of curiosity—thumbs down.
JASMINKA ANTONENKO — ALIVE
Stuck with PROF. NELSON.
Can understand CONSTANZE.
Put her affinity for foods to the test and managed to promise a snack for some of her peers.
Happy with how ripe her apple was.
[Violet Team]
AVERY — ALIVE
One of the last few to wake—on a sinfully matted rug.
Searched for DIANA and SUCY with HANNAH.
Admitted that AKKO's corner-mirror is a smart idea.
Fear-stricken to a numbing degree that there is a killer on the loose.
MARY — ALIVE
One of the last few to wake.
Teased AKKO for sitting at the head of the table instead of a professor.
Accidentally ate a pickled plum and panicked.
Shared BARBARA's suspicion about the fresh food in the dungeon.
BLAIR — ALIVE
One of the last few to wake.
Eased the nerves of those around her with conversation.
Thought the bowl of fruits was wax until JASMINKA tested an apple by touch alone.
Enjoyed a nice, sweet apricot—her favorite food.
[Professors]
PROF. URSULA CALLISTIS — BEHEADED BY CLOAKED FIGURE.
Awoken by AKKO with SUCY and DIANA.
Was worried when AKKO was nowhere to be found.
Told SUCY and DIANA to wake the others, and helped.
Went searching for her other students.
PROF. ANNE FINNELAN — SHOT IN EYE BY CLOAKED FIGURE.
Felt that having everybody stick together is the best plan of action.
Noticed the lack of monsters in the dungeon.
Was suspicious about the (obvious) trap set for her.
Found PROF. URSULA's body while the killer was still in the room.
PROF. NELLY NELSON — ALIVE
Agreed with PROF. FINNELAN that everybody should stay together.
Begrudgingly let PROF. URSULA go off to find the students, then the same for PROF. FINNELAN.
Irritated that students wandered alone anyway.
Startled by the cloaked figure.
Hello, hello! So here's the first chapter of the Halloween fic I whipped up for…Halloween. And my birthday, but mainly Halloween. Kinda been all over the place with writing/updating this, so just to let you know, there'll be this first chapter, and then I'll post the second chapter once it's done. Then the rest of them (there'll be five) will be posted all at once. Just wanted to get something out for Halloween since it would've been late otherwise. Lol.
Anyway, as you can see, lotta stuff goin on. Major character death is a thing, because it is a murder mystery, but it's okay. We're here for a fun time, I promise. That, and then there's the stats. The rest of the chapters will only have the summaries, so don't worry, bUT I wouldn't skip over them if I were you. They're a little tongue-in-cheek (I think, anyway), so there's that, but there's also clues littered throughout that will help with solving the mystery before the characters do. The summaries can lie a little, however, so keep a keen eye.
Ah well. With that, I hope you enjoyed, and Happy Halloween!
:)