N-Sequence: Tell (FINAL)

Pencils. Pens. Ink. Wood.

Scribbling. Folding. Grunting.Sighing.

“Ah, I don’t think I’mevergonna get this story done by tonight.” His shoulders slouching as his verdant hair fell over his eyes, Mican Nikolasch felt a bead of sweat drip off his temple. “And I’m not exactly gonna be comin’ up with any bright ideas any time soon, am I,brain?” His brow furrowing, the young student crossed his arms. ”Ah! Hold up- I wonder what Rob’s been doin’ so far?”

As his hands flurried over a black keyboard, the keys falling down into the structure, per his every whim, a thinly built laptop pulled up a blue screen. Mican stretched his arms out, then proceeded to hover his mouse over the picture of a young man wielding a long sword. Beneath the profound portrait lay a box where a cursor had begun to blink.

Heyyy friend. Any luck on your end for this assignment?

“Hm. I think that message shouldtotallyhave been specific enough!” The young student stared at the box, a straight line of text having sent from, merely, the touch of his fingers.

As a series of bubbles popped up and proceeded to explode on his computer screen, they found themselves followed by a stark set of responsive words which revealed themselves in a bold red.

Assignment for...whichclass, my dude?

Ah, it was indeed totally... not specific enough.Mican sighed.

Scratching the back of his green curls, the student yawned and rubbed at his drooping eyelids. Atop a sturdy chair, he creaked the piece of furniture back and forth. Constantly tipping it on its two rear legs, the student raised his brow.

On that note, I do like how Seque’s messaging system has the opposing messages underlined in PMs like this.

Mican began clicking away over his keyboard. The 1000-word story for Intro to World Building.

Oh.Seriously?You’re having trouble with that one? Mick, you’re, like, the super-spiritual, ‘right-brained’ thinker... as I’ve heard some of the ladies say. I’m sure you can come up with something intuitive. My guy, you just gotta ′ask the deep recesses of your mind’, as you always say! lol

Hmmm. Well, I tried that. The ‘deep recesses’ must be on their poorly timed lunch break-Actually,they must be on... recess!

Oh, wow. You must think you’re reeeeeal clever for that pun, huh?

I do.

Pffft. Says the guy who always loses at card games. ‘Clever’.

Wow. Low blow, bro. I’m justnotthe kind of guy for your deck-building antics.

Well, when you’re only hope of getting a job is to be a judge at a trading-card-game’s local tournament, you kinda get motivated reeeeally quick to suddenly learn alotof the rules to stuff. Anyway. Riiiight. You wanted to know how I’m comin’ along with this story, yeah? Well. I’m only about... 800 words in, as of right now.

Wow, pardon me, but it seems like you’re takin’ your dandy ol’ time on this, as well.

I am. I’ve got some things to do on this site, in particular. I’m an admin for Seque now.

Oh, no kidding? Awesome!

Yup.

Yup.

Yup.

Yeeeupitty! First you were a judge for a nerdy card-game tournament and now you’re a cool little admin on this here ol’social media. Kudos, man. I’ve done F-all, as usual.

Well, I gotta bring home the bacon somehow. Anyways, don’t forget that tonight is the big Christmas Market. Fuckin’joy.

Dang, you don’t sound thrilled.

Can’t say I am, considering I won’t even be going. Not that I’m one to be anything other thancontrarianto market-stuffs like these, but I always like to scope’em out, first.

Why won’t you be goin’?

I’m an admin for a site which just got its bearings not too long ago, my friend. I gotta stay around, help update it, help maintain it- The like.

Ah, damn. I’ma little shocked thatSequewould keep you so busy, is all. It has only been... four days, though. Well, I’ll get some cookies for ya at the festival, okay?

Nah. No cookies. Get me thepretzelsand you’ve got yourself a deal.

Ah, yes, of course- The deal where I just gift you, from the kindness of my heart,food. Sweet! Pretzels it is then. T-T-Y-L, Rob!

T-T-Y-L, Mick- Also,wait a minute. Are you, um, doing your writing assignment with a pen and paper again?

Um. Y- Yes.

Hahahaaa whyyy

Because it’s immersive! I’m not up on just ‘typing’ my stories.

Right, right. ‘Immersive’. Sounds like someone’s mainly just bashful, if I’m being honest. Oh well- Have fun, and try not to creep anyone out with your weird smelling fetish tonight! Hahaha.

Ha. Funny, my guy. Anyway, I knew that our banter could go on and on if I allowed it, yet I had quite a few things to do for the evening. Some more assignments to turn in for my other literature classes stood at the forefront of my mind. So, in attempts to pacify my pal, I just sent him a bunch of weirdly looking emojis as a response.Mican cracked his knuckles.Yeah, I guess you could say that that is a bit too telly of me, but I have stuff to do.

________

Constantly patting at the side of his green locks, Mican smiled as he looked all around himself. Across the trees and grassy expanse, chains and black poles rooted to the ground, fellow youths had let loose the aroma of flowers and fresh meadows. Covering their fit bodies sat the same kind of cloth which graced Mican’s own torso.

Hm. Everyone smells so nice tonight. And, wow. I forgot that most kids found it convenient to just wear their uniforms all day. The university doesn’t make you play ‘dress-up’ unless you’re going to class, yet after a certain time, I guess it would just become inconvenient to swi-

“Hey, it’s Mick!” An outstretched hand descended upon Mican’s shoulder. The din of nearby college students, suddenly, drowned out.

“Whoa! What smells so good?”

“G-Uh. What?”

Mican spun on his heel, his flaxen locks swooping over his eyes. “Oh! Hey. Herasio, it’syouwho smells like fresh cookies!”

His own pair of green eyes fidgeting a little, a student with a trimmed dress-shirt sighed. “Yes, I guess I technicallydiddash on two/thirds an ounce of vanilla extract this morning. Way to attract ants, but not when you also have theotherkinds of right sprays.”

Standing next to Herasio, another student with a lanky figure raised their brow. “Okay, so, um, when were you gonna tell me that you measure outfreakin′ baking ingredients as a way to cologne yourself, man?”

Mican’s eyes widened. “I’ve never heard of ‘cologne’ being used as a verb before,Jokham!”

The lanky Jokham Izrafel pulled up a pair of sunglasses over their forehead. “Well, you’re lookin’ at the trend-setter himself.”

“Ugh. You literally go to a college that only hasonesubject -- literature, writing, and aaaaaall the funky shit that goes into that -- and you couldn’t find a better word, than to turn cologne into a verb, eh?” Herasio put two fingers to his chin. “I think someone hasn’t been applying themselves as much as they should, mister.”

Jokham slapped his right hand over his hip. “Let me tell you something, mister- I received ‘honor-roll’ last year. Like me to remind you what that is?”

“Somethin’ I’ll never get.” Herasio winked.

“Wow, just... wow. I love it when they admit defeat so easily.” Jokham licked his lips.

“Uh, well,guys.” Mican cleared his throat. “Night time. Evening. Sun is down. All these people around us? The noisy crowd? You, uh- You know what that means?”

Herasio raised only his left eyebrow. ”The Winter Market!"

“Right! I gotta go get Rob some pretzels. And it sounds like you two have a lot to talk about onSequelater.” Mican flipped up his bangs, crossing his arms.

Jokham nodded. “Oh yeah, Robert! Tell him I said ‘sup’, ya know? Sup. What a funny, English word.”

“Will do!” Mican hopped on one leg.

“Also, wow, I haven’t been onSequein a while.” Herasio scratched at his cheek. “And, wait, you seriously think that this vanilla-extract smells like cookies?”

“Yup!” Smirked Mican.

Jokham shrugged his shoulders. “It can’t be that much of a surprise, I imagine. Considering that that extract is used in making cookies and other pastry-shit.”

”You’rea cookie.” Herasio curled in his lips.

“Ah, aterriblypowerful comeback!” Mican put a hand over one side of his face, as though he were directing the flow of his voice. “Nonetheless, I got a-”

The dimly lit sky fell further dark, clouds hugging to the heavens’ view of the sun. The solar body, its figure falling behind the horizon, streamlined a gush of orange and red tints. Bluish colors which hugged the rounded curves of the atmosphere now welcomed rays of burgundy and flaming oranges.

To his right, Mican’s sense of smell fell staggered. His legs locked up. Turning his gaze from Herasio over to his side, a young girl with a supple bust beneath her shirt started to play with a lock of her hair.

Jokham curled his mouth. “Uh, Mican, you alright?”

The young student, his eyes reflecting a darkly violet pool, couldn’t peel his stare away from the woman’s short, dark length. “Y- Yuhuh. I’m alright.”

Herasio shook his head. “Oh, boy. I take it you smell somethin’ really delectable right about now, eh?”

Mican’s head went up, slowly. “Yeah. You could say something like that.”

“Uh, what’s wrong? Is it potent?” Jokham ducked his head under his bicep. “Oof, I don’t wanna die from a smell tonight, thank you. Also, I can tell you this much. It’s definitely not me! I definitely put on the deotoday.”

Waving his hand about, Mican chuckled. “‘The deo’. Oh boy. No, it’s not any of you guys. And it’s not bad. I’ve never caught whiff of this aroma before, at least, I don’t think I have, and yet it feels... so familiar.”

Herasio clapped. “Ah, right then. ‘Never caught whiff of this aroma before’, eh? I’m gonna remember those poetic words. I always knew Mican was better at poetry than any of us!”

“Ugh. I hate the stuff.” Jokham put a hand on Herasio’s shoulder. “Syllabic, Haikus, Sonnets- Why not just say how you’re feeling?”

Mican cocked his head back. “Wh- What? What’s the point of being so contrarian to poetry?”

“Eh, I don’t know, I just don’t really get it.”

“What exactly don’t you get, because there’s likesomany differentfragrancesto writing poetry, dude. It’s not like there’s one style or type that’s holding you down!”

“F-Fragrances?”

“Well, maybe that’s not thebestword.”

“I don’tknowabout that! It sounds prettypoeticto me.” Jokham winked, crossing his thin, tan arms.

“Tsk. Pffft.” Mican’s eyes rolled about. “Says the one who doesn’t like poetry, and, yes, I know, that was probably the point.”

Herasio drummed his fingers together. “Well guys, I guess we should really check out all the festivities- Talk about poetry and shit later on Seque, considering it’s the one social site that everyone uses nowadays. Besides, I’ve heard Headmistress Pyrogge always makes sure somethingweirdhappens at every Winter Market.”

“Dude.” Jokham uncrossed his arms.

“What?”

“It’s fuckin’ cold out here. Let’s make it quick. I only wanted to come along to this ‘market’ to see friends.”

“Well, let’s be honest- This place is more of a renaissance-fair.” Herasio stroked his stubble.

“Hah. Well, have fun Mick. Here’s to hopin’ you find thatsmellthat made you look starstruck as fuck!” Jokham snapped a pair of gun-like fingers toward his friend.God that sounded so weird. Do I always sound weird like that? Ugh. English is hard.

“There’s no way to make that statement sound cool. In essence, the only way to say weird shit in a fashionable manner is to take it all in stride.” Herasio tilted his neck some. “Anyway, see ya in Lit 201 tomorrow, Mick!”

Mican thrusted his head up and down. “Right!”

Around him, the chilling night air pierced his small nose with frigid winds. From his position before, the sky above him had darkened further. Up above, a few stars twinkled behind the sheet of Earth’s protective layers.

“Itisfreezing out- ALSO!” Mican suddenly lunged his right arm out. “Uh- Um...excuse me, miss?” He blushed.

“Huh?”

Before him stood a young woman, her brown eyes as dark as the hot chocolate drizzle which had drizzled over some bags of popcorn by a nearby stand.

“H- Hi.” Mican tossed his hand out for a wave.

The girl raised an eyebrow and shut her eyes for a moment. “Hi. How are... you?” Her head tilted from side to side, a tiny smirk curling up towards the corner of her round face.

“Oh boy, I’ve, uh, never really donethisbefore.”

“What, talk to a girl? Or... in our case, we’re kinda strangers, so-”

“No, um --shit, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt -- uh, approach someone because they- Because they sm- Um.” Mican’s cheeks reddened a deep burgundy.

“Wow, it’ssodark out here, and yet from the looks of things, I can see your face getting super rouge... like a-”

“YOU SMELL NICE!”

Her eyes widened.

The stranger swallowed as she dug her hand into a bag of her own popcorn. “Well. I’ve gotta hand it to ya, it’s not every day I get that kind of... compliment.”

Mican shook his head. “Gah, I’m sorry. That was weird of me, I know. I just- Honestly, I felt this strange inspiration to come talk to you.”

The girl, her pale neck shining a chartreuse necklace that landed over her chest, shrugged her shoulders. “Well, this is a pretty social campus. I’m not against making friends. And I don’t think you come off allthatcreepy. I mean, you know, give or take the whole recognition of my... ‘fragrance’. But, uh- By the way, what exactly do I smell like?”

“Ahah, I don’t know. I just get this funny feeling. The first time I saw you, that brief moment just a few seconds ago, I had a lot of weird... memories... race through my mind.”

”Memories? My gosh, my perfume must be some strong shit. I never knew.” The stranger chuckled, putting a hand to her mouth out of politeness.

Mican put his hands to his hips. “Thing is, I don’t rememberexperiencingthem. Heheh. Ever get that? A daydream that’s so strong it feels like a memory, yet it’s not really... yours?”

The girl’s gaze went to the corner of her head. “Uh. Maybe? Sounds wild, my dude. I think if I started telling people that, I wouldn’t be able to go to this school anymore. Might have to, yanno,anotherschool. For people who, yanno, need... a bit more assistance in their academics.”

Mican blushed.Oh my God. She called me... dude. She not only smells like something amazing, but she’s totally a chill person, too! I can tell she thinks I’m crazy, if just a little bit, but she’s not... completely weirded out. Mican scratched his nose. “Y- Yeah! Hahaha, I’m glad I don’t sound too crazy to you.” Sniffling, the student relaxed his shoulders.Talking to her feels so natural. It feels like I’ve done it before. Why?

“Haha,no,never.” The girl rolled her eyes. ”Oh! By the way, I’m Carmella Aberdeen. You?” She held out an arm, the thumb tearing through a hole at the end of her jacket’s sleeve.

“Mican Nikolasch.”

“Whoa, wicked foreign.”

“Ha, yeah. I came to the Ahkyrem Capital from Czechoslovakia about eight years ago. Don’t remember much, though.”

“Oh, for real? Wow. Do theyallhave green hair in Czechoslovakia? Heheh. And... I alwayshavebeen theslightestbit interested in Czechoslovakia, myself.”

Mican winked. “Haha. That’s what they all say.”

“Oh, is it now? Even the ‘slightest bit’ part- Also, are youreyesokay?”

Mican put a hand up to his temples. “What do you mean?”

“They’re- They’re glowing. Glowing purple! Whoa, that’s pretty cool. How are you doin’ that?” Carmella tilted her head sideways.

Mican’s smile fell. ”What?”

Staring back at Carmella, her gray sweater embracing her curves from the chilly climate, Mican’s eyes blinked a continuous stream of violet glow. His legs tensed, calves locking some. Beneath the cosmic gaze of the sky, his lips trembled.

Carmella’s lips sat agape.Is this guy really pulling my leg or what? What’s up with his eyes?

________

The sound of scraping rang about in a hallway of dimly lit bricks.

The only source of light proved to be a square-shaped area of hardened flames among an ocean of stone.

A high-pitched tone beat about the stale air. “Prince Ferdinand von Lethuina, it’s happened again!”

“So it has,Ellevnar, so it has.” A deeper voice left the mouth of a man, his lips firm over a tall face. “I felt it, yes.”

“I haven’t seenitin a while. This power. All the students at Tell University have already had it happen to them- That is, only the ones who willeverhave it happen to them, anyway.”

The man with firm lips put two fingers to his forehead, his blonde hair curled as it fell past his ears. “So, we seem to have one more. That’s fine. Sometimes, the triggers which unlockit... come a little bit late.”

“I wonder what this’ll mean for... the future of Ahkyrem, your highness.”

“Hmph. I’m certain that it means a lot of things. Regardless, let us revel in this pleasant surprise! TheN-Sequence... has been established once more!”