Ruben Lundqvist
Perfect time for a chat, too!
Thu Jul 13, 2017 01:39
70.73.178.153

Arguably one of the largest benefits of being an Aquila was that there was an entrance to the Secret Passages literally right inside of their common-room. This definitely set some expectations for how they were supposed to spend their time - expectations that Ruben was only too happy to meet and exceed. Every week, he spent more than a few hours between curfew and breakfast outside of Aquila. Sometimes, he just wandered; other times, he took advantage of empty corridors to practice rolls and wall-jumps, stealthily looking for ways to keep up his full training regimens without drawing too much attention from Garen or any of the other biased, overly-sensitive faculty members. Almost all the time, he eschewed the convenient Passages entrance for ducking out through Aquila’s main door and slipping through the school to some farther-away one. It wasn’t a huge challenge, but better than none.

This pattern had been followed again tonight, although with a different goal in mind than usual. Marissa was throwing another definitely-secret party (what was up with this school and parties?) and considering his success at the last one he’d attended, of course Ruben was going again. The only real difference between tonight’s sneaking-out and past nights were the contents of his shoulder bag, which contained, among other things, a flask of something fun and three shrunken quilts from the dorm. Or more specifically, two shrunken quilts and one shrunken quilt Transfigured into a padded, downy blanket like the one he used on camping trips back home.

...Okay, that wasn’t the only difference. He’d also wound his hair back into a half-braid that curled around the sides of his scalp, long blonde locks pulled over his shoulder to brush across his chest. Now that he was no longer required to wear the skin-pulling tight braids of Durmstrang Institute, and thanks largely to Holland making him properly realize it, and also thanks to hen breaking up with him and therefore depriving him of the only reliable hair-braider around, Ruben had practiced his own braiding over the summer break. The teen was getting a lot better at it, especially since he had casually stolen a compact from Kaye (who in turn had stolen it from her hot-and-almost-too-irritating-to-make-up-for-it roommate) and charmed it to wandlessly drift around his head while he twisted with his back to the bathroom mirror.

Okay, okay, that also wasn’t the biggest difference. Nope, that honour went to the fact that he was wearing less clothes than what could be reasonably considered to pass RMI’s dress code. There had been one opportunity last year to wear pyjamas in the school, which Ruben had ignored in favour of casual workout gear, since he didn’t exactly have pyjamas to begin with. But that had been a daytime pyjama event. Tonight’s was, well, overnight, so he was wearing more appropriate attire. Ruben wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest to make his usual saunter down the halls minus jeans. His dark red boxer-briefs offered plenty of coverage; he’d gone around in public over the Swedish summer wearing less.

Not to mention that his quads were damn fine. Walking around in one’s underwear wasn’t the typical American way of intimidating one’s inferiors, he knew, but it showed off his well-toned, sturdy musculature in a way that was immensely satisfying and probably filled the same role.

His feet, wrapped in Dagny’s slouchy half-assed attempt at knitting socks, rounded the corner noiselessly, and Ruben wasted no time in pulling off his bag. He unfolded his (now full-size) blankets against the wall and held them in place with a sticking charm, and added a Poking Hex for good measure - he wouldn’t put it past any of the partygoers to try nabbing his spot. A long swig from his flask followed, and then a smoothing-down of his ferocious shirt, and then he spotted Holland.

Fantastic. They hadn’t spent much time together since hen called off their relationship for what Ruben had respected but considered to be a not-very-good reason. They were still friendly, though, or so he assumed. Striding over to where Holland was sitting, Ruben smirked at spotting the pattern on hens pyjamas. “Absolutely the silvery one,” he asserted with a nod. “It fits better with this kidnapping on your shirt. More mystery, more power. A little like jail-cell bars. Or stars. Two very different ideas, I know.” He grinned wider and inclined his head hopefully. “Can I sit?”

  • Perfect time for a manicure - Holland Keene, Wed Jul 12 23:36
    Holland’s contribution to the party was the manicure station, which was a good job to volunteer for because they didn’t have to show up too early. The corner had large pillows for sitting and... more
    • Perfect time for a chat, too! - Ruben Lundqvist, Thu Jul 13 01:39
      • And what do we have to chat about? - Holland, Fri Jul 14 16:16
        Holland wouldn’t have used the word “kidnapping” to describe their shirt, and the word caught them off-guard enough to make them laugh. “Of course,” Holland said, gesturing for Ruben to grab his own... more
        • Ruben had gone through many a falling-out. Admittedly, these were usually based on something a little more abrupt than a simple argument… but then again, the last proper conversations he’d had with... more
          • But there is no we - Holland, Sat Jul 22 23:32
            “Smart aliens strategically abducting people. I like that.” There were certainly a few world leaders whose abductions Holland wouldn’t bat a mascara-ed eyelash at. Aliens with no knowledge of Earth... more
            • I don't want there to be a me, either - Russell Drew, Sun Jul 23 13:51
              Russell’s ability to avoid thinking about how much of a Bad Idea this was lasted for exactly two-and-a-half steps. His left foot actually froze in midair when the sudden wave of oh dear hit him -... more
              • That makes two of us - Ruben, Sun Jul 23 15:02
                He couldn’t hold back a snort at Holland’s explanation. “Yes, I know that nails are small, do not worry,” he said in a tone meant to be mock-reassuring, nudging hen playfully with his sock-padded... more
                • Or three - Holland, Sun Jul 23 22:45
                  Ruben said he thought it would be easier to start on the left, like someone who had never tried to paint their nails of their dominant hand while the polish was still drying on the other one. Maybe... more
                  • ...Motion carried - Russell, Mon Jul 24 20:17
                    Russell didn’t think that he’d ever had such a sudden reversal from burning-face-of-awkward-shame to freezing-face-of-awkward-death as when Ruben flipped him the finger. Hot and cold were opposites.... more
                    • This pleases me - Ruben, Mon Jul 24 21:38
                      Still smirking, Ruben made a whining noise in the back of his throat when Holland whapped him. “Really?” His hand dropped soon after this. He didn’t wait to push his luck; in some ways, he was... more
                      • Can’t say I disagree - Holland, Tue Jul 25 16:47
                        Russell had seemed terribly nervous before Ruben told him to get lost, so maybe Holland should have been a little nicer when they talked to the boy. Or maybe not; after all, he’d decided to come... more
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