[open]

[sunstead]

Who: Clamor & open!
When: Late April, vaguely between the 19th and the end of the month as needed
What: Mostly Nerd Stuff™ but basically just Clamor going about his daily business. So... Reading. Study club. Conspiracy notes. Not sleeping. etc.
Warnings: whatever you call PTSD from having your soul ripped out of your body and placed in an inanimate object, there sure is some of that in the last prompt

[A - Library, any days during lunch or between classes]

Books are a scholar's best friend, and Clamor is certainly no exception. Anyone looking for Clamor would be wise to check the library first, as it's the place he tends to gravitate to when he has nowhere else to be—during school hours, anyway. Books are a comfort, and he'll usually be seated far in the back with piles of them stacked at his sides, or browsing the shelves of history and fiction to pull out anything that looks interesting. Sometimes he'll pull out a book and just start reading it right there, in the middle of the aisle, being a nuisance to anyone trying to pass through. Sorry, old habits.

Books are a comfort... and yet, he rarely looks comfortable, even though he goes out of his way to visit. He sits with his back to the wall, always, jumping at the slightest movements that catch the corner of his eye. It takes some time for him to fully settle in, and as the days pass his trips to the library become less frequent. But he does still drop in, from time to time, to check what's still on the shelves if nothing else. Not even the unnerving atmosphere is enough to keep him from surrounding himself with books.

He'll usually have a notebook out for writing, if he does decide to sit down and read, and he certainly doesn't mind the company. He doesn't seem especially picky, either, but his stack is usually populated with an abundance of history books and horror novels. Care to trade some recommendations, perhaps?

[B - Class 3-A, after school club hours]

After school comes Study Club, and Clamor is diligent in his attendance—not for his own studies, really, but to make sure that a certain someone is getting enough help with his homework. He's usually hovering near wherever Noah is, though he's not glued to the kid's side at all times. Just most of the time.

But really, he's happy to step in and help anyone who looks like they need it. He's a patient teacher, and he's adamant in making sure everyone understands the material rather than just giving the answers. Rest assured, you will understand the value and importance of algebra before leaving this room, and you'll know how to actually do it!

Of course, there's also the other kind of studying that goes on once the last of the "normal" students leave for the day. Past 6PM, he'll stick around the room for awhile longer to chat with anyone who wants to discuss the murder investigation, the current transfer student situation, or any other weird shit that's going on. He keeps a special notebook set aside for these matters, filled with personal notes of what's been discovered thus far. Did you miss that clusterfuck of a meeting? Clamor can hook you up with the details.

[C - Class 1-C, after 6PM]

When free time comes around again and all the students and staff have gone home, Clamor once again returns to the library... but he doesn't tend to stay very long, unlike during school hours. Rather, he heads in with a purpose and walks back out with a book or two in hand, apparently fearless of the consequences. He's an acquired a few bandaids on the ends of his fingers recently... but only a few, and no more past the 25th. And every night before 11PM he returns like clockwork, putting his books back where he found them and walking back out, equally fearless.

Yeah, that's right. There's a loophole and it's called being responsible. Who would've thought?

Anyway, he's much more at ease reading in his homeroom, and he can sometimes be found scribbling down notes in his notebook when his nose isn't buried in a novel. Sometimes it actually is just homework notes—he's already a fan of history, and being from a vastly different world only makes it more fascinating to learn about—but other times it seems like he's writing out his thoughts in an attempt to sort through them. It's not always very coherent, unfortunately, but lines like "Students and teachers - real? illusion? based on whom?", "Physical displacement - why recreate my body? how??" and the constant mentions of cultists might stand out more to confused shoulder-readers.

Don't worry, he only kind of looks like a crazed conspiracy theorist over here. It makes more sense in context, probably.

[D - Cooking room, between midnight and 6AM]

Clamor does try to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. He's quite adept at sleeping in uncomfortable places—chairs, desks, the floor... and sleep is important. He knows it's important. It's what's going to keep them all a little more sane, when their lives have been drawn into this strange prison and the threat of death looms in the air. He succeeds, most nights. By the time morning comes there's only an hour or so left of the silence, and he's too busy making himself presentable to dwell on anything else. Everything's fine. He's fine.

But some nights, he doesn't succeed. The silence always gets to him, but it's worse when he tries to close his eyes—when he can't sleep before the strike of midnight, or when some terror jolts him awake and it becomes impossible to go back to sleep again. Not when all he can think about is the unnatural silence, the darkness, digging his remaining fingernails into his arms just to make sure he can feel something, that his soul isn't being ripped away again and left to rot in a place where not even time can touch—

It's a futile effort, and he'd rather just fall asleep in class than keep trying to force it.

So, it's late night tea time now.

The prepackaged tea isn't great, but he makes enough of it for a few cups. It's cheap lemon flavoured, with a hint of boiled banana water. He's happy to share, even if his smile doesn't seem to linger as long as it normally would.

He has his notebook with him, too, both for communication and idle distraction... but it's even harder to write coherent theories when you haven't slept a full night in possibly days. He's mostly just scribbling down nonsense, maybe some plans for the day, the occasional magic-looking spell circle... you know, normal school stuff.

Comments

Cooking bc we ain't sleepin

[silentabyss]

[Noah isn't really good at this whole sleeping thing either, to be fair. Something something night terrors and PTSD and all that. He barely knows what that acronym even means, what with mental health education being, erm, nonexistent on Elrios.

But he's up, because, well... sleep just wasn't happening, and he'd rather be up and moving around rather than suffering trying to get in a single moment of rest.

When he breaks into the kitchen for Forbidden Snacking, however, he's not expecting to see Clamor there. He has to do a double-take, taking a startled-half step backwards and just... processing, because, uh. Only one of them is supposed to be the irresponsible one up at fuckall in the morning, Clamor.

Noah has his PDA on him always, and he checks the time. Yep. Ungodly. Something must be going on. He types on the PDA proper because he doesn't notice the notebook at first — but he doesn't send the message and opts to show Clamor the screen instead.]

it's like 3 y r u awake
everything ok???

[sunstead]

[Maybe in another 500 years Elrios will stop sending kids into war and invent the concept of therapy... or not. Until then, welp, they'll just have to deal with it.

Clamor, too, is surprised to see Noah. Perhaps a little less surprised, since he's aware of the kid's nightmares and poor sleeping habits... and a little guilty, since that knowledge had to come from somewhere. Usually Clamor would be the one waking the boy when his nightmares got too intense. He wouldn't have been there to help, this time.

Directing his worries elsewhere is a welcome distraction, and he reaches for his notebook while Noah is checking something on his PDA. He scratches out a quick message in neat handwriting, holding it up for Noah to see.]

It's late. Are you alright?

[... at the same time Noah holds out his PDA, which also has a concerned message on it.

Clamor stares ahead in blank confusion for a moment to process this, sighs, and then puts the notebook back down to add a reply. He takes a little more time with this one before flipping it around.]

I can't sleep when it's this quiet.
I'm still getting used to needing sleep again.

[He did sometimes "sleep" as a sickle, but it wasn't exactly predictable... and probably not normal, honestly, but it's fine since he doesn't have to worry about randomly losing consciousness anymore. Having a body again sure is weird, though.]

[silentabyss]

yea cant sleep
whats new honestly

[Noah replies on the PDA because it's easier. His handwriting is sloppy, plus it's not exactly bright in here. He'd... actually punctuate his sentences if he was writing them out on a notebook though, so...]

it gets 2 quiet and makes me think something bads gonna happen
yknow?
are u making tea

[These two can play the "I worry about you more than you worry about me" game until death, apparently. But now that Noah has found his partner awake at fuckall in the morning, he's not just going to go bumble back to his homeroom to continue laying on the floor under a desk. Plus, if Clamor's making tea, he's not going to pass it up. Maybe it'll help knock him out.]

[sunstead]

[Clamor just nods—to what, it's unclear, but does it matter? All of the above. But to the last question he stands up, walking over to retrieve a second cup for Noah to use. Hell yeah it's tea. He's not even going to ask if the kid wants any, because he's getting some. Tea is good for you!

When he returns to fill the cup and sit back down, though, he does take a moment to scribble down another note. He'll slide it over to Noah along with the cup.]

The water has been filtered + boiled x2
but the taste isn't that great, sorry. [it's his elven right to have a high standard for tea, okay, at least compared to this crappy store-bought stuff. But it is (probably) safe to drink (he hopes).]

Do you want to talk about it?

[the not-sleeping thing not the... tea]

[silentabyss]

[Noah doesn't have standards for tea because, well, he simply doesn't have an opinion on it to begin with other than "ooh flavoured leaf water". It's a drink. It does its job as a drink. It tastes like drink.

Like, yeah, the blood water is gross, but... he's just... not gonna think about how they've been here for almost a month now and they've been just slurping down infected water. No one's gotten sick yet, haha... ha...

Anyway, tea!]

thanks
its just something warm 2 drink im not rly worried about the taste

[Does he... does he want to talk about it? Um... no, but yeah. But no? But... yeah.]

I... yeah. kinda
just nightmares like usual, nothing big or abnormal or whatever
i keep having that same recurring nightmare where everyone i know is a doppelganger. the one where u die and get replaced, where yuria dies and gets replaced, u know. that one.

[That one always makes him wake up in a screaming fit. He woke some others up tonight, and he doesn't feel great about it.]

its just getting worse here becuz we keep meeting new people and making friends, so... other people are showing up now. if that makes sense.
im scared that the cult is going to hurt them. or already has.

c is for "cyou asked for this"

[trialbyliar]

[As usual, Kokichi is spending his free time poking around everywhere. What can he even find that's new at this point, after weeks of being here? Well, it doesn't hurt to keep looking. Not like he has anything better to do anyway – shockingly, he isn't terribly popular.

So, poking his head into one of the other classrooms, he spots a familiar figure hunched over scribbling away. It's either boredom or curiosity that has him approaching. It's not yet quiet hours, but Kokichi is good at moving quietly when he wants to. Surprisingly so, even, for someone so dedicated to being as obnoxious as possible most of the time.

So it might be a surprise when he slips up behind Clamor, leaning over his shoulder and suddenly speaking brightly.]

Ehh, are you really doing homework right now?

[In the same moment, one hand shoots out to snag the notebook being scribbled on. Don't mind him, just being nosy as fuck.]

i regret nothing

[sunstead]

[Kokichi is surprisingly good at being stealthy, yes... if not for the fact that he is currently trying to sneak up on a very paranoid half-elf. Clamor may have lost the genetic lottery on one kind of longevity, but he sure didn't miss out on the other kind elves are known for. You'll have to try harder than that kiddo.

Though ultimately it doesn't matter much, because even if he can hear Kokichi coming up behind him he's not really expecting to have his notebook yanked out from under him in the moment he's trying to reply. Rude???]

Personal research, actually... if you wanted to know, you could've just asked. [he really should've expected this considering how their first meeting went, but look, it's fine, he'll learn eventually] This world's history is vastly different from my own, so I'm reading ahead. It's quite fascinating what humans can achieve without the use of El or mana. There are even claims that people have gone to the moon, of all places. [spoken with a hint of disbelief, because c'mon, who ever heard of going to the moon

Anyway, it really is some mundane history note-taking he's doing right now, because that's a thing that Clamor thinks is fun. If Kokichi flips through a few pages he can also find the disjointed conspiracy theory notes, though. Or maybe this week's homework assignment.]

B

[promisebound]

( Heathcliff did miss that "clusterfuck of a meeting," mostly because he doesn't deal with dead stuff well, and... there were a lot of people. Even if he had attended, he wouldn't have anything to bring to the table, and he probably would've been talked over too -

he can act like a little lord when he needs to, but while he's trying to get his bearings? No good.

Still: there's a Study Club, and this world is... vastly different than everything he's ever learned, so a little help is welcome. Clamor's probably seen his face around a few times - not just here either, seeing as White is in Clamor's class, and if nothing else White is as comforting a presence to have around as Figaro is... but yes, he's here to learn - and he's here to quietly listen to discussions after the club is officially over, looking a mix of worried, sick, and something teetering on whatever emotion "this sounds bad we should fix this" falls under.

People are in need. Even if he doesn't have his magic here, even if he isn't a Sage's Wizard in anything but name right now, he should help... And not to mention there's how he woke up with blood on his hands and it makes him sick to think about it and-

Which is why, despite his shyness, he approaches Clamor and... clears his throat quietly, hands laced in front of him. )

Um... Sir Clamor - do you mind if we speak for a little bit? If you have the time to... If you're busy, then I can ask again some other time -

( please help )

[sunstead]

[Most of the non-transfers have already left to go home or visit their own clubs for the day, so Clamor is just getting his notes in order for later... if anything he was waiting for someone to come bother him, so Heathcliff's interruption is a welcome one. He smiles warmly, putting flipping his notebook closed again.]

Oh, not at all! What do you need help with?

[promisebound]

( Whew...... He'll find a seat close by and take it, looking down at his folded hands on the desk instead of at Clamor. )

It's just... Well, ( Let him start again. ) When you... remembered everything - um, not about here, but about where you're from - was it... How did it happen?

( Heathcliff hesitates, squeezing his fingers together. )

For me... I remember... There was blood on my hands and on my pants - I don't know what happened, just that I went to the restroom and I passed by someone and felt really nauseous. ( He feels it now, even though he has washed his hands half a dozen times; even though he's washed his clothes, too. ) I closed my eyes for just a moment to keep my head from spinning, and... when I opened them, they were gone - I still felt dizzy when I tried moving.

I remembered everything - like my life back home, and my friends, Shino - when I touched the wall to steady myself, so I... ( Another hesitation, and he looks at Clamor through his eyelashes, a little more than pale. ) I was wondering if that happened to anyone else.

[sunstead]

[... he can already tell this kid is nervous when he won't even look up, but then he goes on into a story like that... Clamor is frowning, but it's out of concern more than anything else. An experience like that would certainly leave anyone shaken...

But that's also a good question, and something that he'd like to know more about as well. Clamor leans back in his chair once Heathcliff is finished, sighing lightly as he tries to remember.]

I'm not really sure... I guess the first thing I noticed was that it was strange to have hands again— [wait no that's just going to make this more confusing] a-aha, but that's a different story. It was just before the graduation ceremony, during clean up. It was kind of like realizing that you're in a dream, but you can't wake up from it, so you just play along...? But then after the ceremony ended and everyone else left, that dreamlike quality went away.

I think everyone here has a similar story... either to yours, or to mine. When did you remember everything? [because Clamor definitely didn't see him over spring break]

[promisebound]

Oh, um... ( Let him math that out. ) Not that long ago, really... A week or so, give or take a few days.

( It's been a somewhat distressing week-or-so.)

...I wish I could enjoy this experience... I grew up with tutors, so I never went to a public school like this — it's... ( Heathcliff pauses, uh. ) Different.

( that's... a nice way to put it. )

D

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[He'd woken from his sleep - it's a bit uncomfortable, given that they have no beds and he's an old man with a bad back - and found that people spoke truly about there being no way to speak at night.

The sensation of actually needing to sleep is strange enough - actually experiencing dreams is another, as most Servants no longer have the capacity to dream when they do sleep, only endlessly repeating their memories when they were alive.

It wasn't a dream. But that's to be expected, with his life, and in this new place full of so much stress.

Entering the kitchen and finding someone who's there was a surprise, but...at the same time, it also made sense. Many people were sure to have sleepless nights around here.

He enters with a smile and a wave, taking a seat down at whatever table Clamor is at and taking out his own notebook and pencil to write - flipping past a few pages of complicated-looking equations before hitting a blank page in precise, neat handwriting.]

Night mares bothering you? Or perhaps the night hags?

[Just a little humor.]

Re: D

[sunstead]

[He looks up and returns a polite, if tired smile when Moriarty enters, leaving it to the older man to take the initiative. They haven't really spoken before, so Clamor wouldn't want to impose if he only wanted to drop in and grab something without chatting...

But the mage does look a tad relieved at the icebreaker, even if it's a topic he hardly wants to address right now. He flips his book to a fresh page, too—his own handwriting is neat and legible, though perhaps a bit more on the ornate side than practicality.]

I wouldn't be surprised if demons were at fault for at least some of this.
No, I'm just not used to sleeping when it's this quiet.
Or at all, really.

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Well, I do know a self-proclaimed demon, though he'd attempt to make it noisy again by setting off one of his bombs.

[Mephisto is a fucking delight.]

Ah...Yes, it's much the same for myself, though I do enjoy a nap from time to time.
I suppose that's the results of being always summoned as an older man, hm?
Though that clearly isn't the case for you.

[sunstead]

It's complicated. [BOY IS IT EVER]
Long story short, I haven't had a body for the past year.
It took that long to get used to not sleeping, now I have to adjust to it again.

[the struggles of an ego weapon... but he doesn't want to bore Moriarty with his woes. There is something about what he said that has him curious, though.]

Summoned?

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Ah, then we have more in common than you'd think - I myself normally have no physical body, as I am what is known as a Heroic Spirit.

Thus why I mentioned being summoned! Though in your case, it seems it is something a bit new to you, and I can sympathize. As a Heroic Spirit, the physical needs of the body no longer matter, and what does is getting enough Mana to keep yourself manifested. Though I also didn't have to worry about that!

[Help he's gonna keep talking....writing? Man, he writes fast and neat.]

C

[englisch]

[ Diona noticed from time to time the man pulls books out of the room and walks out with them. A she was aware the books were not allowed to leave the Library, she was trying very hard to find information about Teyvat. After Mads told her hollywood exists, but her home lands did not.

It made her sad because reading everything was far too hard for her! However she would often try from time to time. On one of her split second decisions, she decides to follow him one day. Quietly as a mouse - or cat in this instance. When he tides away at writing and creating his work - it seems he does not notice Diona. She takes advantage of this and waits 'til he is looking away and when he turns back he will suddenly see Diona sitting casually and very cooly upon his workspace/desk. ]

Hello~!

Re: C

[sunstead]

[He likely has noticed her—elven hearing, paranoia, etc.—but on the other hand, he has no reason to worry about this small cat child. He's seen Diona around a few times, she seems to be minding her own business, so... he just kinda tunes her out after awhile. Surely the cat girl will just talk to him like a normal person if she decides she wants his attention.

anyway, he looks away for two seconds to grab one of his notebooks and nearly drops the damn thing when suddenly cat on his desk]

Um, hello? [is this necessary?????????? also please don't push the books off his desk] ... Can I help you with something?

C

[tempingforatlas]

[When Clamor walks into the classroom, he finds Ritsuka sprawled over one of the desks, fiddling with a glove that fits over her tattooed hand and- hey, where in the blazes did she get that outfit?

She frowns at the glove, tugging it over her hand again, aiming at a wall, firmly saying,] Gandr, [...and yet nothing happens.

Ritsuka slams her head against the desk and sighs, twirling some... some...

Is she twirling a loop of sand in her fingers?]

Oh, hey, Clamor. Am I in your way?

[sunstead]

[Mage uniforms sure do love their cloaks, huh... he's already flipping through his latest pick from the history section as he enters—this one appears to have an entire chapter on some yet-unheard of planet which may or may not actually exist. We'll call it Smars. I'm sure the history of Smartian society is very fascinating, even if this knowledge will probably never be useful to anyone.

Clamor does have to look up so he doesn't walk straight into any desks, though, so he stops when he sees he has company. He stuffs the book back under his arm for now.]

Not particularly, no. Did you need me for something? [unless she was looking for someone else in his homeroom?]

d.

[extinctive]

[ figaro is awake as well, but he tends to be a night owl anyway so it isn't like he's really losing sleep over it. these soundless nights may be troubling in general, but the one good thing is that he can sneak up into someone without surprising them and disturbing their peace. normally he can do that without magic, but... he can't right now. so.

the shadow of his doctor's coat waving in the wind may have given him away in advance, but in case it didn't, figaro's going to loom over clamor from behind, looking over his shoulder to check out what he's been writing. to-do notes and homework are typical enough as it is, but the magic circle certainly caught his eye - is he a wizard as well?

a mute chuckle. let him read off your notes from here clamor he'll be here all night if he doesn't notice the doctor anytime soon. ]

[sunstead]

[He seems lost in thought for the moment, careful inscribing tiny symbols into the rings of his circle with precise yet inattentive motions, like he's done this a thousand times before. And he probably has, since it is the most basic of circles still utilized in his world's spellcraft. If Figaro stares long enough to work out a translation, he'll realize that the words in the circle hold no special meaning, simply existing as a binding element to whatever magic the caster wills into it.

Not that anything is going to be willed into this today, since... magic not working and all. Clamor breathes out a muted sigh, the tip of his pen slipping under the shadow as he moves it to the next part of the ring—

the shadow which he did not notice until just now, so excuse him while he has a very brief heart attack while whipping his head around to see who's standing behind him. Yeah, this is definitely what his fraught nerves needed tonight... thanks, fifi...

He doesn't really know Figaro at all, either, so there's this awkward moment where he's staring like he's not sure if he's about to get murdered or not (which... says a lot about how he would normally handle being attacked, really). But after the moment passes and he's still unharmed, he tries to relax again, clutching at his chest and sighing deeply. He'll allow himself to regain a little of his composure before scratching out a brief, hasty sentence beneath his drawing.]

Please don't sneak up on me

[extinctive]

[ figaro's just as stunned at the other man's reaction, as if it's not normal to be spooked tf out by someone you barely know in the literal dead of night. he blinks once, twice, patiently waiting for clamor to get his bearings with a smile on his face that's a little too innocent.

he peers at the note clamor scribbled in his panicky haste and he just - laughs? it's a lighthearted one if clamor could hear it. shaking his head, he swipes the pen from clamor's hand and writes down his own response. ]

Sorry! I just couldn't help but look over your notes and - is that your magic circle? Does that mean you're a wizard as well?

[ magic in mahoyaku are more emotion-based than whatever elsword has going on, so figaro couldn't make two ways about clamor's notes even if he tried. still, an entirely different magic user.... color him interested.... ]

[sunstead]

[The only way this could be more sketch would be if Figaro was holding a knife... but it's fine. He's totally calm now. Not freaked out about this at all.

It's kinda hard to roll straight into a conversation when your icebreaker was the looming fear of death, but Figaro's casual response makes Clamor feel a bit silly for getting so scared in the first place, so. He tries his best to push those thoughts aside again, burying them deep down with the rest of his depressing thoughts of the night. Magic circles. He can talk about magic circles.]

I was a scholar of Seven Tower, magitech department.
That probably won't mean anything to you, but yes, I've studied magic.