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located in Misaki Creek Academy, a part of Misaki Creek Academy| An All Boys Academy, one of the many universes on RPG.

Misaki Creek Academy



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Casimir leaned lazily, cat-like, against the cafe's skylight. His cheek was pressed flush against the cool glass and he beat a finger against it at an allegro pace.
"Do you never look up?" he intoned softly, dramatically, glancing at the people below and painting them into his mind with reckless, broad strokes. A pale teen with long, white hair still wreathed in smoke and long pianist's fingers--Victor. He could see the senior boy's mouth moving animatedly to form the smooth and effortless syllables of what could only be German to the tall, black-haired teacher--Renard--beside him. He spotted at least two other boys attempting to capture the planes of the young German's face upon paper. He snorted. Victor would be a much missed model when he graduated.
He rolled so that his back rested against the slanted skylight and, finding that his hand grasped at air instead of solid wood, scrabbled, his hands skittering off of the glass. Nails creaked as they finally gained purchase on wood and snapped as he hauled himself back up. Casimir laughed.
He was caught up in a heady half-state between fatigue-induced drowsiness and self-induced adrenaline, far too gone to really care about a broken nail. He drew a ribbon--bright-red-and a good deal of shredded wrapping paper out of his pocket, allowing the latter to cascade down the edge in a shower of fragmented "Happy Birthday!"s, and wrapped it around the bleeding fingers. He hummed the accompanying song to himself as he did so, embellishing it with a bow and removing his cell phone from his pocket to catch a glance at his work as part of a larger whole.
A mixture of fatigue, jet lag, and, perhaps, a little too much wine over an upset that he'd rather not admit to even existing had stripped away his usual, composed glamour and left behind simple, stark Casimir. Shadows under his eyes made dark blue eyes teeter towards ink black in color and already pale skin was nearing transparent as the sunlight hit it and only served to emphasize his lack of sleep. Dark blonde hair splayed itself wildly against the pane of glass, intermingled with white dove feathers he'd deemed lovely at some point during the night and had decided to braid in.
A wide half-grin found its way onto his face, the right corner of his mouth pulling itself upward until the smile was nearing feral. Perfect. He turned his phone on, posed, one foot pressed against a support beam for balance and his injured right hand and its decoration carefully positioned beside his face, and snapped a photo. Another press of a button--sent.
He relaxed his pose and waited.
A ring.
"Voilà," Casimir murmured, still waiting.
A second ring. A third-
He picked up.
"Allô? Qui est là?" he asked oh-so-innocently.
A rough, growling voice met his ear from the other end of the line.
"Cut the crap out, Casi. You know who this is. Get the f*** off your school's roof."
"Seth? What a surprise," he said, smoothly transitioning into English, "I haven't seen you in, well-- I haven't seen you in exactly a year."
He examined the ribbon upon his fingers.
"I can't say much about the present either. The fire it made was very warm, though."
"Casi--you know we couldn't come to your birthday this year. Aurelie is busy with tests and I'm busy with the new baby in the family--and you expect us to fly all the way to f***ing France? We'll be there next year and Christmas. Promise."
A pause.
So that was it. A baby in the family. Not his family, the family. Well, if they weren't going to come to him willingly, he would simply pull them back towards him.
"Is Aurelie there right now?" he asked.
"Yes. You're on speaker. Now get off of the damn roof before you really break something."
He ignored him.
"Did you see how high it is from up here, Auri? What is it? 14 feet...15 feet? If you fell just the right way....on your back or on your head, let's say...well..." he crooned quietly, "well, you could die."
"Well, maybe," he sang softly, "may-be, may-bee~... I should jump."
There was a pause and, then, a sudden, shaky intake of breath and a string of profanities.
Casimir smirked. This, perhaps, would bring his friends back to him. He turned the phone off and returned it to his pocket.
Then, he laid his head against the glass and, finally, fell asleep.