A Fair Price (Vol. 0)
Summary: Apparently, Azul's definition of "wrapping up" certain loose threads involves extended torture. Of Davis in particular.
Word count: 1.1k+
Warnings: none, I think
A/N: HELLO EVERYONE. I'm not done with my OC/Canon tomfoolery and you are not done having to see it. This was honestly supposed to be a joke but I think I got a little too invested and now this is like crack taken seriously..................... Anyway, this is the first of a few planned parts, so please let me know if you want to see more and I will probably get it written within the rest of the school year! Hopefully!! :,)))
Vol. 0 || Vol. 1 || Vol. 2
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(Day 0 - Wednesday.)
It all starts after winter break, with little more than a conversation.
(Really, it’d started with the anemones following midterms and the ensuing incident—but that would be water under the bridge eventually. Just not today.)
Azul approaches Davis one day at lunch, finding his usual spot on a bench in the courtyard. “Here you are.”
Davis looks up from his phone and forgotten, half-finished sandwich. His eyes narrow. “…Azul? Do you need something?”
It’s not like 2-B and 2-C have had any joint classes recently… or any time soon…
“Well,” Azul says pleasantly, as if choosing not to acknowledge the other’s rightful wariness, “I hear that you’ve been rather sullen ever since before the break, especially regarding me, which could only relate to one thing. And seeing as I’d rather wrap up some loose threads sooner than later…”
It’s difficult, resisting the urge to scoff, but Davis manages to do just that and keeps a relatively straight expression.
“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s a little hard to not be, in your words, ‘sullen’ after seeing your treatment of student-workers.”
To Davis’ immense disappointment, Azul takes the seat next to him with a sigh. “If it pleases you, Yu has already lectured me on the severity of my actions. I’ve been taking it to heart and treating them more justly.”
“Uh-huh. Do you need to hear it from another mouth to really get it?” Davis isn’t angry, just… riled up in a tired sort of way. His phone burns like phantom pain with the weight of various victim accounts in it. “I don’t need you to please me. Rather—has anyone actually been holding you accountable for any of this?”
“Plenty,” mutters Azul under his breath with an unrecognizable tone, before adjusting his glasses. “I’ve given remuneration to many students who were physically harmed by the twins, as well as met several of my own students’ demands.” There’s a glint to the frames as they catch the light. “I’m genuinely curious—what else would you like to propose I do?”
That gives Davis pause, although not for the expected reason. It’s because—
(“What do ya think we should do?” Jacques asked.
Davis’ eyes widened. “Me?”
“Yeah, you. Youse our only walkin’ mouth.” In a too-casual gesture Davis was getting used to, Jacques slung his arm over his shoulders. “The strike was your idea, no? So I gotta trust you to be the brains to my brawn.”
Davis scoffed in amusement, and Jacques grinned at him.)
—because of something that doesn’t really matter anymore, something he should have left behind when he left RSA. Really, his little grudge against Azul is also a remnant of baggage he should have abandoned a long time ago.
Still, Davis isn’t one to swallow his words at the first sign of being off-mark. “Does that really make up for all of it?” And just like that, an idea strikes him all of a sudden. “Come to think of it… how often do you work at the Mostro Lounge? I’m sure it’d satisfy a lot of people to see you doing the same work as them.”
Azul opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it and gently furrows his brows in a thoughtful look. His gaze flicks from Davis to the ground, then back again. “I find myself pleasantly surprised by the way you think,” he says finally with a smile, not elaborating on his own thought process. “If I allot some time every week for the next month or so to take a few shifts, then there could be unexpected benefits…”
“Really?” Davis raises an eyebrow—even though he can recall when Azul and the twins decided to take a shift at the Lounge post-Overblot, he’d assumed that was a one-time thing on the housewarden’s part. “I didn’t think you’d do more manual work than necessary.”
“Never let it be assumed that I don’t strive for self-improvement,” is Azul’s lofty reply.
“...Alright.”
Davis is more than ready to leave the conversation at that and return to his lunch, but something about the way Azul crosses his legs and props up his elbow on one knee disturbs him; if not the way that he rests his chin on his hand with a Look™ to his eyes. And true to form—
“Since this was your idea… how about you take some responsibility?” Azul suggests. “I’m sure the fair price of keeping me company until my ‘atonement’ tenure ends is acceptable.”
“Keeping you… company?” echoes Davis in disbelief. “Won’t there be some kind of catch to this? I thought you were over your contracts.”
Azul waves his other hand as if to dismiss that topic. “This isn’t a contract—merely an exchange of sorts.”
“I’m not working for free, I’ll have you know.”
“Rest assured, I’m not asking you to work. Goodness, you sure enjoy covering all your bases…” Azul shakes his head, somehow without losing even a fraction of his cordial yet opportunistic demeanor. “I just think it’d be in both our best interests for me to better acquaint myself with both a classmate and a member of the school newspaper.”
…Right. Leave it to Azul to remember something most people didn’t care about for him and then milk it as an opening to profit.
Of course, Davis had been lectured on the power of the press many a time before when he was still at RSA. Being the manager of a student-run business on campus, Azul would take to forming a solid connection with the newspaper staff like maybe a vulture to a carcass. But just as easily as he could advertise the Lounge, he could slowly weasel his way into controlling what goes into the paper…
“Hardly anyone reads the paper,” Davis mutters, still trying to get out of this half of the ‘exchange.’ “I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
“While that was true in our freshman year,” Azul admits, “it’s thanks to your work that I’ve noticed many students actually read the online version or get their hands on the physical copy. Which is why I hadn’t seriously considered this option until now.”
Davis frowns. “Thanks for the flattery… But even if you want a collaboration, I usually don’t write articles—”
“That wouldn’t be a problem, we can find some way to make it work.”
Man, thinks Davis, I really can’t tell if it’s the universe or just Azul himself out to get me today.
Azul exhales and adjusts his glasses again. “Besides, we’re getting a bit sidetracked. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“Right,” Davis concedes. He curses himself silently for getting carried away—this was, in part, his own idea and he should be willing to pay the price. Otherwise, he’d just be a hypocrite.
“So…” Azul extends his hand. “Are we in agreement?”
Davis looks down at it, many thoughts passing through his mind, and sighs. Finally, he reaches out to shake Azul’s hand in what feels like an admission of defeat. “Sure. But this is just for those guys who suffered under you.”
“Of course,” Azul replies; as much as Davis would like to think it’s in a condescending tone, that’s just his imagination.
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i just had. a fucking MOMENT in dnd. oh my godddddddddddddddddddd
ok so we're on a ship. normal water ship. trying to get out of town, the works. we end up getting followed. probably pirates or some shit. everyone's panicking, trying to figure out what to do, but im just there Itching for them to get within 150 ft so i can throw a fireball at them. major focus
smth weird happened though. our dear paladin has this medallion from her mom that started... singing. only to her, really. but she managed to tap into that. and as we're setting bombs off towards the pursuing ship (i say we, but Fang was very much just focusing on firing the fireball as soon as they got into range lol...which they never did...). bombs go off, aided by this school of glowing fucking fish that swarm around their boat. glowing in many different colors. it's really beautiful.
their ship sinks, we're victorious. and fang cant stop staring at it. thinking about stories he's heard about divine influence, things at sea. he cant get it out of his head that this is something Divine. and he wants to see more.
so he doesn't say anything to anyone. he's still in single-minded focus mode. he decides he's going to see more. and see, he's had this magic cloak, the cloak of the manta ray. it lets him breathe underwater & have a fast swimming speed. so with that in mind & the fact that he's in general pretty water-proofed, he decides to go in. ties a rope off and just jumps into the fucking ocean
and it's cold. a sudden shock of cold water, bc this is the Fucking Ocean. but he sees motes of white around him, specks in the dark expanse. and he hears Music. the same music the paladin heard, though he doesnt know that. he hears this music beckoning to him, so he starts to follow it, swimming down to the depths... and then he reaches the end of his rope, which stops him from going too far.
from there, he feels something behind him. a presence. he turns to look, but it darts out of his view, almost playfully. eventually it stops moving, & he sees a beluga. it opens its mouth, and he hears that same song. it's mesmerizing. it starts pushing him back to the ship, all the way until they're bumping against it - an obvious nonverbal Go Back. and Fang doesn't try to resist. but before he goes up, he reaches out to touch the beluga. just a hand on the head, to Connect. and he tells it, "Thank you." for getting him back to the boat, or for the experience, who's to say? he can sense that it understands him, though it just keeps singing.
so fang goes up. breaking the surface of the water, the music immediately stops. he climbs up the rope, them plops right down at the back of the ship where he'd jumped off, and pulls out his flute. he's been puttering around with it, but only really started playing it earlier that afternoon. but something about that encounter... he just had to replicate it. he starts playing to the best of his memory the song that he heard... getting a 13 performance check at first, but then i use an ability i have to reroll, and i get. a nat20.
so with the aid of Fang's magic, he taps into that Something that he experienced down there. and the paladin can hear this. she sees him sitting cross legged, sopping wet at the back of a ship, just playing his flute, and she feels everything that the medallion made her feel. yearning, belonging, love... and she approaches him. reaches out to touch his face, just to see if he's Real. and he is, of course. still playing, he looks up with his bright yellow eyes. Confused, but the touch is not unwelcome.
and thus the scene ends. we escaped danger, and now Fang has tapped into a musical magic he barely understands.
aka. GUESS WHO ACCIDENTALLY GOT THE PERFECT FUCKIN SEGWAY INTO THE BARD MULTICLASS IVE BEEN WANTING LMFAOOOOOOOOOO
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