(no subject)

[ulixes]

WHO: Cameron Carney, Casper Kim, Ulysses Quayle, Jonathan Wilde. (Iliya, you're there in our hearts.)
WHAT: Bored teenagers with no outlet manufacture their own. “Fuck, Marry, Kill” + alcohol + Casper’s disapproving glares = excellent entertainment.
WHEN: Backdated to the evening of Wednesday, March 1st. Peak journal blackout.
WHERE: Ebonhide junior boys cabin
WARNING: Crude language.

“It’s still not working,” Cameron says with a groan, checking his journal for the third time in an hour, “Y’all’s ain’t working either, right?” He always thought the no maj kids whining about not having internet and phones was sort of funny, but now he gets it. “What are we supposed to doooo?” “Broke,” Ulysses calls out from his bed, where he’s lying flat on his back, journal sitting open on his chest. As he answers, he picks up the book, waving it vaguely in the direction of the other boys, as if the rest of the cabin was hoping to score a peak at its (yup, nonfunctional) pages. He’s bored too — terribly, dreadfully bored. Like Cameron, he’d never really understood the appeal of a cell phone — and don’t even get him started on how weird he found the internet — but now, he was getting a taste of his own medicine. “Study, I guess,” he replies hesitantly, before immediately making a face. Oh, no. That was a bad idea. He regrets that suggestion so much already. What’s the exact opposite of studying? “Or petty crime, maybe? Could do some petty crime.” Casper isn't a No-Maj kid, but he is from the city and grew up accustomed to some modern, non-magical conveniences. Like the Internet. The enchanted journal was a poor substitute in his mind, but he has to admit (if only to himself) that he's feeling the absence. He hasn't even glanced at his journal in the last few hours, though, and he knows that he doesn't have to. Not with his roommates checking compulsively and voicing their disappointment with sighs and groans and complaints. So, instead, he's been reading through his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and doing some of the dreaded studying and acting very much like he doesn't give a damn about any of this. Without looking up or even really pausing in his reading, he retorts sharply, "No petty crime. No breaking the rules. Apart from that, I don't care what you do. Get a fucking hobby." "Casper, be nice to your brother," Wilde chides in a flat, disinterested tone. He's has been even more of a recluse lately -- when he's not in the cabin he's scoping out his new plant bed or scraping himself up on various Gooseberry trails and pathways, and he hasn't had a meaningful conversation with another human (including his cabinmates) in at least three days. It's funny: he "hates" the journals, but they've become this mirage of friendship and companionability, and now that they aren't working he's realizing how much he sort of... actually doesn't completely hate that. But whatever. He's feeling inexplicably tired this afternoon, so retired to his bed early and is currently half in pajamas, book open on his pillow. Sid is lumbering around on his back like a prickly mountain explorer. "And yes, my journal isn't working. Slash no, my journal isn't working? Whatever." He turns a page. Two of them are just sitting there reading, and Iliya is asleep. This is officially the worst, most lame night ever. “Well, Uncle Kim isn’t going to let us get drunk on a Wednesday night,” Cameron says with a sad sigh. “We could do makeovers. Uly, you could use some color. Oooh, Casper, let me braid your hair.” Ulysses blows a raspberry. “I’m beautiful already,” he vetoes, although the thought of Casper getting his hair braided makes him snicker a little. “Let’s go back to your first idea.” Bad choice, Uly; this flies in the face of his recent resolution to be on his best behavior from here on out. But hey, he respects his place in this cabin as a reliable voice of ill-repute fun, so he feels obliged to make the suggestion. It’ll probably be shot down, anyway… and if not, well. Must be a sign. Wilde’s flat sarcasm earns a dismissive grunt from Casper, but he doesn't respond otherwise...not until Cameron starts going on about makeovers, anyway. He instantly looks up from his book, glaring at Cameron and the laughing Ulysses from across the room. “You're not braiding my hair,” he snaps, grimacing at the very thought, “And I don't care if you get drunk. Just don't expect me to make excuses for you to miss class tomorrow. Because I won't. You want to deal with Elmasry with a hangover and fuck up your marks? Be my guest.” This isn't entirely true. He does care a little. He doesn't particularly want his roommates to crash and burn during their lessons, especially Ulysses who gets so bent out of shape when he doesn't do well. And he knows that hungover cabinmates could reflect poorly on him with Ms. Rhee. Which he doesn't want. But...it's difficult to admit either of these things. So hopefully growling the obvious facts of the matter will do the trick instead. Wilde can't read with all this dumb chatter, guys. Sid crawls onto his shoulder, and he takes the opportunity to close his book and sit up, looking around at his cabinmates with tired blue eyes. "Okay. I accept this challenge." It already looks like one of those nights anyway. “Which challenge? The alcohol or the challenge of making each other pretty? ‘Cept me, I’m pretty enough.” Cameron says with a smirk, hopping down from his bunk. “I’ve got… one bottle of vodka I managed to save from the cabin search purge, and I will kindly share it with all of you.” “Gorgeous,” Ulysses agrees happily, reaching out his hand in a “gimme” gesture. He doesn’t have anything to contribute, sorry lads, so he appreciates Cameron’s generosity. Well, he has his “congrats on not dying in the woods” gift weed, but that’ll probably come out later in the night. Tonight’s plans are starting to solidify in his mind, and he likes the shape they’re taking. Boredom, he recognizes, may not be a great reason to drink midweek, but a challenge? Acceptable. “Besides, Elmasry loves me,” he adds, with the broad confidence of someone who is completely incorrect. The realization that the bluff he'd made is being called and being taken seriously, turned into a challenge, makes Casper sit up and he protests irritably, "I didn't mean… I wasn't being fucking serious. There's no challenge." But he can already sense that this situation is slipping out of his control. He could stop it if he brought out the big guns. If he threatened to report them or confiscate the vodka or anything like that. But it's not worth drawing a line in the sand here. Slowly resigning himself to a cabin full of drunk roommates and the very real possibility of having to drag some of them out of bed in the morning, he scowls at all of them and mutters, "...assholes. And Elmasry doesn't even like you, Quayle." Wilde snorts, inciting a tiny chirp of protest from Sid. "Woah, Casper." He holds out his hand for a turn with the bottle. Vodka is fucking gross, but so is feeling the way he already does. He'll have to remember to get his brother to smuggle something extra in for Cameron the next time he sends an "unwanted" care package. Advantages of having a cursebreaker in the family: they know just as much about concealing things as unearthing them in caves or whatever the hell he does. "Hey Ulysses, maybe Elmasry would like you more if you were pretty like Cameron." “Mmmhmmm,” Cameron agrees with a nod, a head bobble, and almost a z-snap, but he thinks better of it at the last second, and only snaps twice. “Elmasry loves me,” Cameron confirms. He takes the vodka bottle from Ulysses, pours himself some into a half full Dr. Pepper bottle, then hands it off to Wilde. Ulysses pouts and hands over the bottle with a reluctant huff, although not before sloshing a decent portion of Cameron’s vodka into his mug. He’s got a few cans of Red Bull around here somewhere, he’s sure, and he rustles through his crap in pursuit of said energy drinks. “You hearing this, Kim? I’m being bullied,” he complains, vociferously, pointlessly. “All of y’all oughta get detention.” There’s a pause in his whining as he finds one such can in the bottom of his backpack and produces it with a triumphant flourish. Offers it around the room. Feel free to help yourself to some lukewarm, sugar-free Red Bull, guys. “‘Cept for Iliya. He’s cool.” Scowling, Casper watches the others pass around the bottle of vodka but says no more about it. Not much he can say now. He pushes back his dark hair with a small hmph and rolls his eyes at Ulysses. "Oh, I'm hearing it. You're all just delusional and I don't care. Nobody in this cabin is 'pretty', there's no way Elmasry does anything more than tolerate any of us, and you're not being bullied. Feel better?" “No,” Ulysses answers pettily. But he shuts up. "Are you sure?" Wilde asks flatly. He pauses, "posing" momentarily with a blue steel-ish look on his face. Some finagling and a murmured charm later, and he's turned a bottle of water into a dish of ice. The vodka is going straight into a tumbler he usually brings to the cafeteria to steal juice with (ah, the life of a rebel). It will be chilled and clattery with frozen bits, just like his self-esteem. He offers the ice to his "brothers." "... Maybe we should play a game or something." Sid peeps at this. Cameron takes a couple of small pieces of ice that he can fit through the opening of his plastic bottle. “I agree, Wilde, my good man!” Cameron says without hesitation. “We could pile things on Iliya til he wakes up,” he suggests, already knowing Casper isn’t going to let them do that one again. “Spoons, poker? Some kind of drinking game? Drink every time Casper scowls? No, I like life. Hm. Uly?” “If we’re doing scowl shots, we’re already behind,” Ulysses replies as he grabs a little ice and, somewhat delicately, drops it in his mug. He does so without bothering to look in Casper’s direction: There’s no need. He knows. Speaking of — unless he’s stopped now, Ebonhide’s resident frowny-face is getting “mixed” a drink. Ulysses just wants you to have fun, Casper. “How about FMK?” Still sitting on his bed and looking at the other Ebonhides, Casper doesn't attempt to stop Ulysses from making him a drink...but only because he doesn't realize that it's for him until the other boy is offering him a glass. He blinks, sighs, and then climbs down from his bunk to accept it. He isn't a big drinker when he's at school, let alone on a Wednesday night in a cabin full of people that he's responsible for and especially not now that he's trying to be a decent prefect. But. One drink won't hurt. He gives Ulysses a small nod in place of an actual 'thank you' before responding dryly to this latest suggestion, "I don't have to choose between you three, do I?" Then he takes a sip of his drink. "...Fine. But ground rules first? No freshmen. No siblings. No exes." His dark eyes flit sharply and thoughtlessly and briefly toward Cameron, then away again. He knows he shouldn't still be angry about that. But that doesn't change the fact that he is. If Cameron notices the glance, he doesn’t let on in any visible way, still grinning about their little mini party. Wilde catches that tiny glance and furrows his brow at it, but chooses to say nothing. Instead he scratches Sid on the top of his tiny head and sets him on the cabin floor, watching him lumber off under a desk. Then he takes a deep pull of vodka. "You don't have to choose between us, Casper. I know you love and cherish us all equally. What about ..." WILDE; Clem, Vee, and Sylla "Clem, Vee, Sybilla?" It's the obvious first go. “Boff, marry, kill,” Cameron replies quick enough that it seems like he’s considered this one before. “Kill Clem,” Ulysses corrects, predictably. “Then what’re you gonna do with Sybilla?” Cameron asks Ulysses skeptically. “She’d wanna do it by the light of black candles covered in blood on a bed of antique lace, but if you marry her, she’d definitely murder you.” “That’s a sacrifice I’ll have to make,” Ulysses replies, darkly. Takes a deep breath, as though fortifying himself. “... maybe a political marriage,” he finally answers on the exhale. Chicken. This one, as far as Casper is concerned, is easy. He snorts quietly at Ulysses' flimsy excuse and shakes his head. "Just have hate-sex with Clem and save yourself the knife in the back," he advises flatly, then clarifies his opinion by adding, "Marry, fuck, kill. Vee's too nice to marry." CAMERON; Riley, Kenzie, and Addy “Okay, Riley, Kenzie, Kaaaaaddy. Good ol’ Caddy Addy,” Cameron says, anything but smooth. "F, K, M," Wilde offers almost immediately. “Agreed,” Cameron says with a nod. “Marry Addy and kill Miz Riley Mae.” Sorry, Riley. Ulysses has nothing against you. The “F” is implied; he’s still sober enough to know that this question requires a slightly more diplomatic answer in light of his current semi-romantic foibles. Casper definitely has something against Miss Riley Mae; he nods and points definitively toward Ulysses as he states the correct order for this group. ULYSSES: Antonia, Rosy, and Olivia “Battle of the prefects. Antonia, Rosy, and Olivia,” says Ulysses. Wilde is starting to feel this drink. “Fuuuck, kill, marry? Fuck, marry, kill? Kill, fuck, marry.” “Those’re half your choices, yep. You can’t pick ‘em all,” Cameron says. “Final answer?” “... The last one.” Mild slurring. Casper isn't feeling his drink much at all. He's got a decent alcohol tolerance and has been taking his time. He glances at Wilde, smirks despite himself with actual amusement, and shakes his head. "Marry, fuck, kill," he says, "Unless you want Sy as your brother-in-law or as the guy who fucking murders you." “Omigawd, so true,” Cameron says. Casper nods toward Cameron. "What’s your final answer?" “Hmmmm. I agree, Caspie - M, F, K,” Cameron says, “Final answer, Regis.” CASPER; Chris, Jesse, and Robin Rather than grouping cabins or prefects, Casper takes a different approach...instead, going with a list of people that he'd only want to kill. "Chris. Jesse. Robin." Have fun, lads. He takes a sip from his drink and waits. “They all got the wrong parts for us,” Cameron points out pointlessly, knowing they’re going to have to answer anyway. Ulysses groans and lets his head flop back melodramatically. “Pass.” Unmoved by the groaning and complaining, Casper shakes his head and says very seriously (even managing not to look smug or amused), "There's no passing in FMK." Goddamn it. Jesse, he has to kill on principle — he’s rude to Cricket and that’s Ulysses’ line in the sand. Which just leaves… oh my god. “... marry, kill, fuck,” he mutters into his mug, as quickly and as quietly as possible. Chugs the rest of his drink as if to wash out his mouth. Marry Park? Casper, you’re a monster for making him even think about it. “Naw,” Cameron says, shaking his head. “Do Park. Everyone else has, so he must not be bad. I’d say marry Jesse, because he’s smart and stuff and he’ll probably make a lot of money, but I don’t have to worry about that, and anyway, killing Robin would be hard. So, kill Jesse, marry Robin.” “I’d marry Chris,” says Wilde, definitively. “And kill Jesse. And uh.” “You hate Chris,” Ulysses blinks at Wilde with what is, frankly, an inexplicable confusion, considering he made the exact same choices no less than 30 seconds ago. “Now you’re up and marrying him? Goddamn.” By some miracle, the whole “fuck Robin” thing seems to fall by the wayside. Now Casper is definitely looking both smug and amused. He finishes his drink , sets the glass on the floor beside him, and considers. "Apparently he hates McBride more? I can't blame him. They're all very easy to hate." And he’s very glad he doesn’t have to provide an answer on this one. WILDE; Avery, Drusilla, and Susana “Girl keepers. Avery, Drusilla, and Susana,” says Wilde. “Avery’s a nice girl.” That last round of chugging got Ulysses pretty good. Whooboy. Focus, buddy. At least this set isn’t evil. “Wait. Aw, shit,” he adds after a beat, as the the choices ooze their way through his increasingly-pickled brain. "I can’t kill a sophomore. Or, you know —" He gives a crude gesture, just in case you didn’t know. "Guess that means I’m marryin’ Ana.” “Like a year younger makes that much difference? Pffft,” Cameron says. “You can imagine boning Robin, but you can’t stand theoretically killing a sophomore. Whatever.” Then he remembers he’s supposed to be answering himself. “Do, kill, marry.” By now, Casper's on his second drink (or his third? he isn't certain if someone filled his glass again or not) and starting to feel a bit fuzzy. This may or may not be contributing to his initial inability to recall any of the girls. Okay. Focus, Kim. Susana is the girl that he fucked up in a match; the tough, surly little thing that Sy is so fond of. Avery is the pretty girl from his Occlumency class. Drusilla...he still doesn't have a clue. He smiles wryly to himself and downs the rest of his drink. "Same. Fuck, Kill, Marry." “Okay, okay, how about...!" This... likely goes on for a while.

Comments

[riledup]

I don't think you guys know how excited I've been for this.

[ulixes]

local weenies make midweek mistakes

[gonnabefamous]

was it worth the wait boo

[riledup]

YES. I'm honored that three of my characters were proposed and someone at least vaguely thought of killing each of them.

[addytives]

I would marry this log.

[casperkim]

The feeling is mutual, apparently! Unanimous Addy-marrying~

[iliya]

LMAOOOOOOOOOO I LOVE THIS

reading this made me late for work and it was worth it

[gonnabefamous]

Cameron finally piled enough things on Iliya to wake him up. :')

[indiefolk]

We will never know Iliya's FMK opinions but I'm glad we have some very important insight into some of the Ebonboys

[quinning]

omg omg i was worried this would fall into obscurity and never be posted but BEHOLD

AND I LOVE IT

I LOVE IT SO MUCH

[ulixes]

I DIDNT REALISE PEOPLE WERE WAITING FOR IT LMFAO

[get_fucked]

avery is totally marriage material geeze guys


but
omg this log is fantastic

[casperkim]

Casper only picked Ana because of Quidditch guilt and because he'd feel weird saying he wants to have sex a sophomore. HE'S ALMOST EIGHTEEN, GUYS. (Because he got held back and everything.)

Also he doesn't really know any of them. So. It's guesswork.

[ulixes]

honestly ulysses woulda said marry but he also is too wimpy to do anything to a sophomore WHICH THE OTHERS MOCKED HIM FOR BUT

[professionalcorpse]

This is beautiful. Thank you all for making sure that it exists.

[misericordias]

i'm happy everyone found it amusing to read b/c it definitely was to write

[sylla]

Don't flatter yourselves boys Sylla would kill all of you first

Maybe not Illya but he has immunity

[misericordias]

imagine any of them saying this to her face lol ulysses wouldn't dare

also iliya is honestly the only one who emerges from this log unscathed lmfao

[iliya]

Iliya has a healthy respect for Sylla and also fears that doing literally anything to her would call down the wrath of her many, many sisters.

[casperkim]

Casper rolls his eyes and says that isn't how the game works. But also BRING IT.

[bambae]

Ok but what we learned is that

Wilde and Uly went from hating Chris to marrying him

That's how he woos people when he tries. It's like a power.

[bambae]

AND Cameron would bang him

Somehow even tho half of the cabin hates him nobody killed him

Fucking magic

[ulixes]

i cannot

fucking believe

[solveforx]

This is so great. LOVE WHEN CABINS INTERACT it's my favorite.

[ulixes]

this cabin is weenie central i s2g but i have so much fun when they do the thing i love it when all the cabins do the thing