sortinghat_logs | (no subject)

WHO: Vriska & You!
TONE: Light and airy. Think Three Musketeers Bar.
RATING: PG-PG-13
WHEN: Friday, May 25th after classes.
WHERE: Outside in the gardens.
WHAT: Vriska is practicing spells.
STYLE: Prose or action, I'll roll with whichever.

If there was one major roadblock Vriska was having at school right now, it was pronouncing spells and incantations correctly. It drove her up the proverbial wall when a spell she knew she could cast wouldn't work because of her vocal handicap. It made her want to feed her books to the lake creatures out of spite.

Yet here she was, out in the gardens after class and standing before what looked to be like a small pile of what could have been a small bouquet of flowers (presumably clipped from the flower bushes around her) burning. Vriska glowered down at it like it had insulted her mother, her wand in hand. The spot on the stone where the fire was taking place seemed a little blacker than normal. A logical conclusion would be this was not the first fire Vriska had set there today.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Steve enjoyed spending time in the gardens. It had the best light right after class, and Steve could spend hours drawing in the gardens. He was there now, sitting cross-legged and with his sketchbook in his lap. He had noticed the smell of burning for a little while now, but he had only just decided to go investigate.

He stands up, stretching and heading towards the spell. He blinks curiously at Vriska, stepping close to her.

"Are things okay, miss?"

She was already stepping out the ashes with a little more vigor than necessary, a few new flowers in her grip when Steve questions her. Vriska looks over at him and purses her lips.

"Yes, it is... okay. Just accident. Nothing more."

Steve glanced at the pile of ashes, then up to the flowers in her hand. It didn't take a lot for him to figure out the fires were on accident. "Trying out a new spell, miss?"

"Vriska. Not miss." She looked away from him to start picking a few more flowers. "Not new. Only practice, you see." She picked a few roses, ignoring the thorns in favor of breaking the stems.

"Is it your business?"