Yuu/MC/Prefect participating in the next VDC.
Their act is a solo.
They’re just standing in the middle of the stage, holding a simple ukelele.
The audience is full of NRC and RSA students, along with other guests. Their friends are in the front row seats to support them.
Vil is also there visiting to watch and see if NRC will finally win this year. Both college headmasters are there. Neige is there. Everyone, including graduates, are there to see what the magicless Ramshackle Prefect will perform for them on such a momentous occasion.
Everything is quiet until they start to softly play their instrument.
All is going well.
And then they start to sing.
The first minute worth of lyrics were all fine and dandy. The song already drawing in the audience who were naively curious to know where the song was going.
And then the Prefect starts the chorus with a prompt and loud:
~“This is shit!”
“Well, this is shit!”
“I'm not expecting answеrs, because they're out of your remit!“
“I'm not looking for solutions just for someone to admit-!“
“That this is shit!“
“This is shit!“
“This is shit!”~
Audience’s eyes wide, mouths agape, brains in astonishment.
Except for their friends, specifically Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Epel, who were hootin’ and hollerin’ through the sound of their ukelele. Crowley was having an internal breakdown over knowing everyone was seeing this, including his rival, Ambrose, who simply looked shocked yet impressed.
Neige had quietly gasped, doe eyes even wider at such an open display of vulgarity with each lyric that came from their mouth, and with such confidence and pride!
Vil, on the outside, looked calm and collected as he always presented himself as. But on the inside, he was reeling. He didn’t know whether to be angry, proud, or some other third thing. The performance itself wasn’t actually bad, the singing and ukelele was on point and their ability to emote with each word made pride well up in the young man’s heart.
His little potato has surely grown.
But did they have to choose that song of all things???
The Prefect’s song came to an end. They bowed. A big smile was on their face at the stunned silence of most of the audience.
Their friends still cheering and clapping loudly as they walked off stage.
The remaining contestants play and everyone is waiting for the judges to come to their conclusion as votes still roll in.
Yuu/MC is surrounded by their friends and as they congratulate them for such a funny and badass performance. Crowley is lowkey reprimanding them, while guilting them for embarrassing him and the school in such a manner. Vil can’t hold back a small smile and halfheartedly chastises them, but still shows his appreciation after they dedicated it to him and his previous loss.
Then the announcements start. The votes are in and have been counted.
The winner is announced to everyone’s astonishment.
They won.
The Prefect won.
Night Raven College finally won at VDC by having a magicless human, who wasn’t even from their world, go up on stage and play a ukelele while they swore at the audience with sheer glee and hidden contempt at dealing with everyone’s shit.
349 notes
·
View notes
God i love moon so much. Cowboy soap too. There’s no question to this ask, i just- ah i fucking love those two. Moon is seriously fighting their way to be my favorite darling. Just the concept of them, their dialogue, their behaviors- *chiefs kiss*
Love me some moon n’ soap.
Now give us Birde and Gaz, this is a threat. /j
Hope ur having a good day Ghoul! Always good to read ur blog -Lurk 👁️
Would you settle for 1870z Birdie and Gaz?
You think it’s sort of silly to keep you in the hold overnight, you’re barely drunk and you didn’t hit the gunslinger that hard. You’re sure you’ll hear about it when you see the kids on Monday. Bad gas travels fast in a small town and all that. At least the company is good. You like the deputy well enough, though you’ve only seen him around. Never had much reason to interact with him before tonight.
“I’ve got me a ranger with the prettiest eyes, he’s sure a straight shooter even when he lies, but give him a horse and he’ll race out that door, leavin’ me cryin’ like a penniless whore.”
“Teachers shouldn’t say whore,” Gaz tells you with a smile, you wave a hand at him from behind the iron bars.
“You didn’t like the drinking songs, I’m improvising,” You hum a few more bars, trying to think through your usual catalog. You’re not really an entertainer, but you’ve never had so many complaints about your singing.
“What’s your name again?”
“Kyle,” His smile could light up a cave, you’ve never seen eyes sparkle like that.
“Come in, come in, my love Kyle,” He laughs, you take a moment to enjoy it before continuing, “stay with my this night, you shall have both ale and coal, my fire burning bright.” You hum filling in for the usual guitar. The cell isn’t cold, but there’s a nice chill from the night air. You close your eyes, lean your head back against the wall of the cell. “Well I won’t come in, I can’t come in, I won’t come in at all, there’s a lady ten times fair than you, waitin’ in lord barnets hall-”
“I don’t buy that,” Kyle cuts in, you blink open your eyes to look at him.
“What?”
“I don’t buy it,” He drags his chair closer to the cell.
“Which part?”
“Never seen anyone half as pretty as you, but ten times?” He shakes his head, rests his elbows on his knees as he leans forward, “That’d have to be an act of God.” You let out a breath, jerk your head to the side so you stop looking at his sincerity. Lord this man is making your cheeks hot. You press the back of your hand to your face to try and cool it down.
“D’you flirt with all your prisoners?”
“Only the pretty ones," he sounds far too genuine for you to keep pretending he's joking.
“You think I’m pretty now, you should see me without the drunk and disorderly charge.” You joke.
“I have,” He says, “seen you, I mean. You’re a fuckin’ miracle, like walkin’ sunshine.” See that's just unfair. You aren't supposed to be sweet talked by the man that pulled you out of a bar fight just shy of an hour ago. You'd think that should've scared him off of thinking you're heaven sent.
"You're not supposed to keep thinkin' that after you see me fight," you can't explain the way your voice quiets, or the rush of your pulse in your ears. You think maybe you're embarrassed, weird you don't usually get embarrassed by this sort of thing.
"Probably not, but that isn't gonna stop me," Kyle leans close to the bars of the cell, reaches a hand to brush his knuckles against your cheek, "Don't get shy on me now, Teach, I still wanna know where you got that right hook."
"Birdie," you grab his hand, lace your fingers together, "my friends call me Birdie."
"What do I call you if I don't wanna be friends?" His thumb strokes the back of your hand, his eyes warm as they stare into yours. You hardly notice the bars between you, too focused on his smile, the crease of his cheeks and the little scar under his eye. You wonder how he got that, and if he'd tell you if you asked.
"I don't know," You hum, glancing around the cell, and the sheriff's office, "but I suppose we've got all night to figure it out."
-
Price stares down at you and Gaz asleep in the holding cell. Passed out on the bench and cuddled close as can be. He pinches the bridge of his nose, tries not to be angry at this. He knew Gaz was pining after you but this is just ridiculous.
"Either of you mind explainin' how this happened?" He asks the room at large. Gaz at least has the decency to sit bolt upright at the sound of his voice, knocking your head off his chest and onto the wood seat. He keeps his hands on your hips, protective, to keep you from falling off the bench and onto your ass.
You grumble something and push yourself up onto your hands to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. Price raises his brows and fixes Gaz with his glaring, since he's the only one he has any real control over. You don't even have the decency to look embarrassed, untangling your legs from Gaz's so you can sit properly and soothing your hands over your skirt. You stand and try to scoot past him with a "Sheriff." He scruffy you and drags you back to sit back on the bench.
"Believe I asked you two a question, and I don't like repeatin' myself," he presses.
"Is Goose boarding a gunslinger?" You ask, blatantly trying to change the subject. Price points a finger at you, then brings it to his lips. You shut your mouth quickly. He points at Gaz.
"Broke up a bar fight, met my wife, must've passed out while we were talkin'." He rattles off, you turn to look at him and mouth:
"Wife?" Gaz gives you a small smile and a shrug. You turn to look back at Price and nod. Price sucks in a breath, and lets it out in a hiss before nodding.
"Alright, out, before word gets out and you don't have a class come Monday." You scramble to your feet, and slip past him to get out of the cell. You give Gaz a small wave which he eagerly returns before Price hears the office door open and shut. "Since when are you two chummy?" Price asks when he's sure you're gone.
"Since she nearly knocked Ghost's lights out and I had to carry her back here kickin'." Gaz runs a hand over his head, scratches his neck, a lovesick look in his eye.
"Mean right hook on that one," Price nods. Gaz hums, staring at the door past him. Price rolls his eyes and smacks his shoulder, "Alright, go after her. Can't have you moping around here all day when we've got work that needs doing."
Gaz grins and wastes no time shouldering past him and out into the bright Texas sun.
157 notes
·
View notes