Jade walks ahead of the GGK. He sounded just like a concerned father. Well, maybe the best comparison would be Jade's father. He had been a loud muscular man who enjoyed adventures. Jade's memories of him were starting to fade with time but she recalled going on hunting trips through the scrublands with him; carvings chunks off of the termite mounds and eating it without fear, finding crocodile eggs and making omelettes. The strongest memories were connected to food and their memories on her tongue. 

Maybe that's why she liked the GGK so much. It reminded her of her father. Jade wasn't really that close to her grandfather. Yeah, he was around...sometimes...but often he was busy doing whatever and left her alone. At least the GGK talked to her and invited her around. They had similar interests and had fun. Also, he had a goat and goats are more adorable than anything in the world. (Well...cats were cute too. And dogs. And snakes. And crows. Animals in general were cute, Jade decided.)

"I'm sure Mituna's fine. You'll see him at the ceremonies and you can catch up then." Jade said, smiling. She entered the train and wondered. "I hope we can still find a car. Things tend to fill up quickly around here..."

She really hoped they wouldn't have to share a car with someone by themself because they were weird. Last time they got stuck with a Ravenclaw witch who kept muttering about how "fire is the cleanser". Jade didn't know what any of that meant and chalked it up to strange witch behavior (and kept her distance by sitting next to GGK on the other side of the car).

Roxy pulled herself away from Dirk to hop off her chair and onto the floor with a wide grin. He seemed a bit better, which was the only reason she even dared to stop hugging him. Her trunk opened quickly, revealing a lot of pink, blue, and black, and not a letter to be seen. "You'd think," She starts, huffing, mind already off Mutini, "Tha'd I'd put this shit on top, 'cause that would make sense, y'see, but I don't? I put it prob'ly at the bottom, 'cause it would'a been onna the first things I packed..." She shuffles through her disorganized clutter, trying to find a specific piece of paper. It would be a lost cause if Roxy wasn't determined to find it. 

At Dirk's question, she looks up at him, trying to figure if he was serious or not. Yep. He was. "Nah, I've had Muti since he was a kitten. Plus I feed him real' well, so I'm pre' sure he's not gonna be leavin' anytime soon. Prob'ly jus' wanted to say hi to Janey or somethin', and even if he chills with her, it's not like I'm never gonna see Jane 'gain." She shrugs, looking back down to her trunk, "Plus th' girl prob'ly needs some high-quality kitty cuddles, and Mutini is sure to give 'em."  Roxy knew Jane wasn't acting like she normally did, and as soon as she returned, Rox was going to have a long talk with her about everything and see what they could do.

She holds up the letter, grinning. Triumph!!! "Well!!!" She passes the letter from Droog over. It talks about the paperwork she'll have to sign, details and responsibilities of being a teacher's aid, and a very polite question on how her non-verbal spells were going. Straight to the point as well as distanced and polite, almost awkward, very much like the man himself. "Plus! I kissed like, six 'r seven muggles this summer! Two of 'em were girls." She grins proudly, nodding. This summer she went to the beach for two weeks with her mum, and Roxy in a swimsuit and on a mission was a very dangerous thing for attractive peers. The poor muggles never stood a chance.

Karkat could only speak in Freudian slips and Dave would still never get tired of it. Not that Dave never made any of his own- he remembers how he had called Jane hot after one of the first times he had met her, and ever since the blonde has refrained from using any temperature-related marks in front of Miss Crocker. If she just brought him cookies right out of the oven? They’re neat. If she asks how he thinks the weather is? It’s interesting. He’s not cracking, ah hell no. Not again.

“Not again.” He whispers to himself, determined. Oh shit- wait what? Dave snaps back to current conversation, “Yeah Karkat, good to see that you’ve got your head in the game this year- even if you’ve got your right hand stroking it simultaneously.” Dave snickered at his own remark, before holding up his apple juice, “Dude the gifts are so madly appreciated, they’re practically begging to be put into straightjackets and sent to Arkham. You are like a wise man to my baby manger Jesus.” He cracked it open and took a swig, enjoying some of the best juice he’s ever had. “Man John you’ve gotta hook me up with your dealer, this thing is going to be empty in no time. Hey aguamenti is a thing, you think applementi could be too or what?” He took a mental note of that, resting the container of juice on his thigh. “Summer was the same in terms of the fuck load of strifing and rapping and a flood of ironicism big enough to tsunami-size even the blandest of sticklers, but you know. What’s good.” He had looked over at John and Karkat, “’Sup with you guys, how’d your summers go down? Actually I need to head out and get into fucking uniform once you guys are done talking about your sick times, we're almost there and prefect duties are beckoning like a needy whore."

Jake looked up when his name was called, brow furrowed in pretty evident distress. He paused at Dave’s words, caught off guard at his sincerity, and gave him a small nod of understanding, quietly clearing his now-thick throat. Not the time, English. His gaze fell to the floor as he puzzled over the best course of action, hesitant to leave John behind considering he did say he’d accompany him, but he seemed set with his own friends, at the very least, and Jake didn’t want to intrude. The car looked full enough with four. Deciding to at least let his cousin know he’d be departing, he spoke up, though not by much. “Hey, ah, John? I hate to be a spoilsport and all, so I think I’m gonna head off and look for maybe one of my own mates, alright?” He takes another glance at Hal, and then Dave before giving the latter an appreciative attempt at a small smile, then grabbing his luggage and ambling down the now empty aisle.

Well, nearly empty. He soon caught sight of, oh thank god, Jane, out of all of his friends, Jane. And with Mutini no less! The familiar face admittedly did help lift his spirits, and he flashed a smile as he quickened his pace. “Why if it isn’t Miss Janey Crocker, what a pleasure to see you after so long!” Although he may not be as chipper as he let on, he could still pretend for his friend’s sake. She, herself, didn’t appear to be at the top of her game, the least he could do was let her think he was. The girls only knew the angry side of his and Dirk’s spat, he wasn’t about to dump even more feelings on them, that’s what he had John for.

---

"Eri, you don't sound happy to--" 

Cal hissed as Eridan's elbow met their face but they didn't yelp, cry out, or let go. They learned a long time ago that you never let go of something once you've worked so hard to grasp it and yelping about pain was rather pointless. Their nose was hurting though but at least it wasn't broken. There definitely would be a bruise though. Cal held onto the Ampora though, smiling. Eridan was always a skittish little guy. Why did he think Cal would hurt him? Cal would never hurt Eridan! Eridan is too jumpy cute to hurt.  You wish Eridan would let you get close to him so you can giggle at his stupid screaminess and nibble on his ears and listen to him chatter about things. 

Actually, you'd love to have anyone around to do those things with. Being a puppet is fun but you really want someone to giggle at and bite. All the times you tried to bite people, they would run away or they'd complain about it to some professor who would be all "Cal biting is not good and blah blah points blah blah acting out blah blah parents blah". They always threatened parents and Cal didn't care because their parents didn't care. Nobody really cares. If the Berwynnes had a family crest it would be a marionette saying "I don't give a shiiiit". (Cal snickered at the mental image)

Cal smiled through the pain in their face though. There was one thing they cared about and that was making friends, like cute Eri. "I dunno why you're always so surprised to see me. We like go to school together and stuff! Hee hee!" Cal pouted. "Why do you alllllwaaays try to avoid me? You know I can find you easily though it is a lot of fun to chase you around! Running around like a chicken with their head cut off. Screaming through their neckhole and spurting blood everywhere. Well you're not doing that part. Yet. I guess! Hee hee!" Cal tilted their head. "Errriiiiiii. Did you miss me over the summer? I missed you. A lot."

Cal really did. Summeri is always boring and lonely. 

At this point, Dirk was reading bits and pieces of Roxy’s letter aloud in a lesser Strider tone and more of a mocking, dead Droog tone. The letter did indeed have a minor case of antique “I-don’t-care-too-much-but-I’m-still-pretty-fucking-chill” teacher syndrome, Dirk had explained, promptly pointing out the symptoms of coffee stains dribbled about and what he could have sworn to be cigarette ash swept over the ink.

He was about to point out some of the scratch-outs that were very much like the Spells teacher to Roxy with a bit of his own amusement until a loud whine came kicking down the halls. Whatever Dirk Strider may have been originally thinking, it all shrunk down into the shadow of the bigger picture of the something he couldn’t avoid, and this ‘thing’, or rather ‘he’, was coming straight towards the two blonds, followed promptly by a more mature tone.

Any color residing in Dirk’s features quickly became featureless, to put simply. His body was failing him, and he couldn’t keep his eyes trained on the letter, but rather the doorway as he awaited their presence. He knew he’d take a stab if he waited for Jake’s face to pop up. Failing and failing him, his knees were buckling and his chest was hollowing and throat stretching and lungs ceased to aid him and Dirk Strider was relapsing into the person he was the night he said and sent everything he did. The rest of his features were hidden behind the paper, his whole face at this point now covered with hair he cared not to style, to shades and the letter, the epitome of the various insecurities the Strider family kept hidden. The flashback of the image of orange miles against an unresponsive green text came pummeling through his temples in an abrupt ring. The vile feeling of regret, of everything he said, it lavished his senses into feeling ill.

Looking just over the rims of his spectacles did he shoot a glance, faded and admittedly rather scared, to Roxy, before straight back to the doorway once the complaining of what sounded like a pulled ear became all very real and blew through the room rather than echoing down the hall.

The blond felt sick and very, very small. It was undeniably true, the person he was the night of his last schoolyear was returning and the feelings of intimacy that were stowed away and denied came slashing through his barriers. And for once, as a rarity over the frustrations over the summer, Dirk was reminded in uprising swells of his actual feelings that rose above their petty argument, all targeting him as he’d finally make eye contact with the dark-haired teen. His heart was in his mouth, beating with a halting stream through his limbs, and he was cold. It felt as if he was being visually pierced by a puncturing, sharp spark of a violent, vibrant green; transluscent per say. Dirk wasn’t ready, and the sight was ailing. To put simply, it startled him and just made the teen sad, as all. A mopey sort of melancholy that nipped at his heartstrings and brought the atmosphere down.

Instinct begun to pick the Strider up piece by piece within the moment of Jake being tossed haphazardly across the table from him, and soon enough, Dirk was back to looking out to the world flying by him, mindlessly folding the letter back with clammy hands.

And, fuck, you know what?

This was overdoing it. Dirk knew it for a fact, and yet he couldn’t portray into words just why everything was magnified the way it was.

He processed his ill posture and shifted in his seat. With the proper clearing of his throat, he slid the letter across the table and to Roxy, now beginning to pull at the ends of his sweater under the table while the ruckus of his thoughts settled like a stirred body of troubled water. He was overdoing it, and it make him feel worse knowing this as he leaned against the cold glass. Jake really was the first one to change Dirk to this extent, and the only one to leave him without a resolve. Though this really was all very new to him, he also knew when something was being overdone. That, or because no one else could possibly make this throat tighten like this. Or his lungs hollow the way made them. It was his damned fault, and Dirk hadn’t the slightest idea of what to do with himself as he slowly lost his way and intertwined it with Jake’s.

No, things like this made him recall what Jake said, and everything settled once more. Their argument didn’t have much fuel to start with, but it was given oxygen immediately when Jake retaliated the way he did (though it really was both their faults). It was moments like this that reminded him that, despite Dirk being an idiot carrying a silent passion for his current ex-friend, their argument was still very real. His thoughts of how dearly did he want to actually speak to him was silenced in the shadow of the barrier of their 'fight'. These more passionate feelings nonetheless, they were also silenced but just as real as their current situation. There was something intimate in the Strider’s mind, something loving that would not budge and kindled even more so over the summer and stood strong though mockingly like an oasis. Denying himself of these feelings for Jake became more…

…And more difficult.

And so, he quietly let his head lean against the wall, flickering his sights from his hands to Jane, then to Roxy and before he knew it, the same haunting image of a brimming emerald stopped him from making eye contact with the English, and he was back to stretching his thick sweater fabric. “Jane. Jake.” He addressed his friends with less of a welcoming tone and more with the bare minimum of what the greeting called for. He didn't have it in him to use much else in his words, though he did quietly and subtly scoot towards Roxy by a few millimeters.


Busy with being unintentionally dramatic and a big fart baby, he hadn't made the connection that Jane was off. He quickly changed his mindset completely as she begun to explain her story, his lips parting slightly in a bit of shock as he listened in. His eyes widened, and he leaned forward and across the table, brow knit in slight concern, though he begun to frown in solicitude. His breathing begin to slow as tears found their way down her cheeks, his heart sinking. God, did he really have no idea. She hid this practically professionally, her life-or-death life at home hidden behind, what, hints of paranoia?


Dirk found himself slowly shaking his head with consternation, unable to speak up when she asked the group to speak. It was the shock of her asking someone else to fill the air with another conversation that pulled him from his thoughts. "Whoa hey whoa, back the fuck up." He quietly reached out hesitantly to Gcat, letting the white feline sniff his sweater hand before grazing the back of his hand against the whiskered muzzle. “Sweet baby Jesus, Jane…” He was at a loss of words, so he filled in a bit to accommodate to Jane’s attempt to lighten the mood. “7 pounds, golden locks, blue holy baby eyes, 20 inches of pure holy baby”. He paused. “Just how long has this shit been going down for?” Despite his dialogue, Dirk sounded and was quite serious. He turned his attention from the cat to Jane with pursed lips, not quite sure what kind of answer to expect. Then again, it was hard to fill her request to just ‘change the subject’ when something as serious as this had been brought up without warning.