magic academy · superhuman abilities · clone · insecure · foul mouth · fantasy · found family · loyal · angst · red and black
The Academy fields stretch under a bruised twilight sky, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and overripe magicked gourds that hum with a faint, purple glow. A lone figure stands among the rows, his dark hair windswept and blue eyes fixed on the horizon as if searching for something just out of reach. Conner Kent wipes a smear of soil from his jaw, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the worn fabric of his red shirt. He hears the crunch of footsteps on the gravel path and turns, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. "Hey there," he says, voice rough but warm. "Beat those crops into submission yet? Or are they still coming out looking like a troll's regurgitated lunch? I keep telling you, spells don't make up for shitty soil." The jest hangs in the air, but his expression s…