low fidelity
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the love club
welcome to a new year at montgomery !
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oxytocin
love drug
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"Baby, you know you're free to come home whenever you'd like, right? Just say the word and we'll come scoop you right up."
This marked the four hundredth and forty-seventh time Ryan and her grandmother have had this conversation. With every little waver in Ryan's words, with every soft sniffle she snuffs, Anita holds her car keys a little tighter. The routine between the two was as follows: Anita would call once, in the morning, to tell Ryan good morning and how much she was loved and missed. The call would not last long, as Ryan is not a morning person, and can only respond in coos and hums before roughly 10:32 am. Anita would hang up, smiling, and begin her day. Ryan, at various times of day, would send her grandmother memes and pictures of animals, in addition to little "ily!! cant wait 2 b home :3" daily devotionals. At night, without fail, Ryan calls Anita telling her of everything that happened that day, with a myriad of unrelated vignettes that make the call last upwards of three hours. It gave both of them some semblance of togetherness.
For the four hundredth and forty-seventh time, Ryan answers.
"Momma, I can't just leave Darius by himself! That would make me, like, the worst best friend in the history of best friends, and I can't be the worst best friend because that's like, an oxymoron, and then Darius would be embarrassed because he'd be forever known as the guy with the shi--oops, uh, crappy oxymoron friend and then he'd have to drop out because of bullying and he'd never go back to school ever and he'd end up panhandling on West 30th until he winds up in prison forever!!! And Momma, I am NOT letting Dari end up in prison."
There was a chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Of course," Anita responds, amused, "Look at you, thinking long term. But Darius would hate for you to stay somewhere where you're unhappy just for his sake, wouldn't he?"
The question gave Ryan pause, but not much. "I'm not unhappy, Momma," she says carefully, thinking through each word. "It's just scary. Jordi was so young, and happy, and cool, and now he's..." Her throat tightened. She'd never been able to say that four-letter word, because the second it hits air it becomes real, and she just couldn't handle that yet. She counted to ten in her head, and came back. "Besides! There are so many cool people here, and so many cool things, and I wanna keep going!" She grinned toothily. "You know you didn't raise a quitter, Momma." The laugh on the other end made her whole again.
"Right again. Now, you know I hate cutting our chats short, baby, but now that I know that my li'l fighter is okay I just remembered that I've gotta meet with a potential tenant real soon and I'd like to check out the room before they stop in." There was a sigh. "I love you, honey. We'll talk later, yeah?" Ryan nodded hard, and then remembered her grandmother couldn't see her through the phone. "Love you too, Momma! Tell Tony I miss him and that his package made me real happy. I've gotta get the free time to send y'all your gifts! I'll call tonight. Bye-bye!" *click*
Walking through Montgomery Academy halls still felt foreign. They were so different from the untended, aching halls of the public schools she had attended her whole life. While she could feign wealth in her uniform, she couldn't shake the feeling that everyone around new she was a foreigner. No, no. She shook her head, counted to ten, and hit her cheeks twice. No negativity. She reached into her bag and pulled out a little plastic wrapper. In it was her favorite mandarin orange gummy candy, procurable from an Asian grocer in China Town. It was a gift from her father, in one of his frequent care packages. She popped it in her mouth, chomped merrily, and skipped along. She took care to avoid Jordi's little memorial, and tried to ignore the announcement mourning his passing. Would she be a bad person if she didn't appear to his vigil? She couldn't decide.
Around the beginning of her lunch, Ryan feels her phone vibrate. She stashes her sandwich to the side, and picks up her phone. The text is simple, straight, and to the point. "The Love Club is meeting today, immediately after class.
[div class=border][div class=charname]ryan lewis ( โ๏ฝฅเฑช๏ฝฅ)[/div]
[div class=charinfo]sunshine girl![/div][/div]
coded by
constellation
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[/div]
constellation
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low fidelity
๐๐๐๐พ๐ฝ ๐๐ ๐ฃ๐ช๐ณ๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ถ๐ด
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erzulie
&
Almost Watson
cecilia montgomery.
location
courtyard during lunch, montgomery academy
outfit
her school uniform.
mood
keeping it together, but like, what the hell.
tags
erzulie
&
Almost Watson
โ
Cecilia could barely concentrate on her classes, or much of anything, throughout the day.
Her morning was quiet and uneventful. The girl woke up to her phone alarm beeping at her side, wallowed in bed for exactly a minute, and began her day without hesitation. Even after three years, she could appreciate the peace and quiet that came with her own dorm room. The extra space was glorious, and so instead of crowded up by two sets of furniture, her room was lovingly arranged with a plush grey circle rug in the center. Cecilia's room was her sanctuary. The school's communal bathrooms, however, made her skin crawl; if their dorm rooms could have their own personal bathroom, she would truly have no complaints. Nonetheless, after a quick shower and brush of her teeth, Cecilia returned to her room and found her phone lit up with a text from her mother.
Buenos dias mijita. Por favor, ten un buen dia en tus clases. Se que las cosas ahoritas son dificiles, pero eres bien fuerte y vendran cosas buenas. Si necesitas hablar, aqui estoy para ti. Love you Cece. - Mom
Cecilia curled her lip in slight bitter disgust. Her mother would say sweet, kind words, and never act on them. Even in moments like this, Vivetta had impossibly high standards for her daughter, always pushing her to be stronger, more resilient. She only responded back with a heart emoji and set her phone to vibrate. Any attempt to concentrate in her classes was lost, flashes of memories surfacing back up instead, even at the worst of times.
During summer break, investigators had talked to her and her mother numerous times. Vivetta cooperated, of course, but tried to keep Cecilia at a distance from the media frenzy and continued questions of the detectives. They seemed to think she was hiding something, and her mother did not want her to speak to them anymore under the excuse of "My daughter is already traumatized enough as it is!" But, Cecilia was technically an adult. One of the more persistent detectives had shown up in her dancing studio a month after Jordi's death, patiently waiting at the sidelines as the girls stretched and practiced, strict as army training. He quietly approached by the time Cecilia sat down for a break, mottled feet dunked into a severe ice bath. She didn't give him much more than he already knew, except the fact that Jordi was much more closed off than most students knew about. And then he asked, "Can you tell me what the Love Club actually is? It's just a popularity thing, right?"
At that, Cecilia sat up straight. "It's not just a popularity thing. The Love Club is school royalty, status over everybody else, because you are the best of the best. Either in academics, or sports, or something of worth."
"And you're the Love Club president, if I'm not mistaken. Does that make you the best of the school?"
"Yes, it does."
"Better than Jordan, then?"
"...We're done here."
Cecilia said nothing else, and the detective was escorted from the building. It left a bad taste in her mouth, like bile, because she didn't know if he was right or not. Yes, perhaps Cecilia was the top of her class, but she considered Jordi to be a much better person than she could ever be. Even in death.
The girl blinked, and found herself in her homeroom class of the day, listening to her mother's voice over the intercom. Despite the many eyes that turned to watch her, Cecilia didn't flinch, or show much emotion beside a slight downturn of her lips. Soon, their class started, and she pulled out an organized binder. Her notes were meticulously organized from day one, handwriting a neat cursive, with plenty of highlighters and post-it notes. Even on the first day, she would already begin memorizing the class syllabus and figuring out her goals for the semester. And today, an attempt was made, but her mind was elsewhere. It felt like a ghost looming over her shoulder, only a couple of minutes walk away. In the paths of her memories, Cecilia could walk through the less-used halls of the academy, knowing each corner like the back of her hand. Soon, she would be outside, and approaching the swimming pool facility. The door opens by itself, and Jordi is still there, still floatingโ
Her homeroom teacher, a polished older gentlemen with salt and pepper hair, gave Cecilia a pitiful look when she didn't hear her name called the past three times. She answered his question without a pause, and she knew she needed a distraction.
Cecilia already had each other Love Club member's phone numbers saved, but getting the numbers of the new members wasn't much of a challenge. Not many people at school would tell her no. By the time lunch rolled around, she had successfully sent out the text to each club member, and she sat at her lunch table in the school's courtyard under the shade of a large old oak tree. On her lunch tray was a deliciously green chicken caesar salad, peeled mandarin orange slices, and a cup of iced sweet tea. In her neat cursive, she jotted down ideas onto small note paper, of what to discuss during their meeting. The girl paused, and shot two text messages out with a quick tap of her thumbs.
To: Hyacinth
I'm under the oak tree if you want to eat lunch together. x
To: Darius โI hope your day is going well. I'm assuming all of us in the club are attending the ceremony tonight?
Her morning was quiet and uneventful. The girl woke up to her phone alarm beeping at her side, wallowed in bed for exactly a minute, and began her day without hesitation. Even after three years, she could appreciate the peace and quiet that came with her own dorm room. The extra space was glorious, and so instead of crowded up by two sets of furniture, her room was lovingly arranged with a plush grey circle rug in the center. Cecilia's room was her sanctuary. The school's communal bathrooms, however, made her skin crawl; if their dorm rooms could have their own personal bathroom, she would truly have no complaints. Nonetheless, after a quick shower and brush of her teeth, Cecilia returned to her room and found her phone lit up with a text from her mother.
Buenos dias mijita. Por favor, ten un buen dia en tus clases. Se que las cosas ahoritas son dificiles, pero eres bien fuerte y vendran cosas buenas. Si necesitas hablar, aqui estoy para ti. Love you Cece. - Mom
Cecilia curled her lip in slight bitter disgust. Her mother would say sweet, kind words, and never act on them. Even in moments like this, Vivetta had impossibly high standards for her daughter, always pushing her to be stronger, more resilient. She only responded back with a heart emoji and set her phone to vibrate. Any attempt to concentrate in her classes was lost, flashes of memories surfacing back up instead, even at the worst of times.
During summer break, investigators had talked to her and her mother numerous times. Vivetta cooperated, of course, but tried to keep Cecilia at a distance from the media frenzy and continued questions of the detectives. They seemed to think she was hiding something, and her mother did not want her to speak to them anymore under the excuse of "My daughter is already traumatized enough as it is!" But, Cecilia was technically an adult. One of the more persistent detectives had shown up in her dancing studio a month after Jordi's death, patiently waiting at the sidelines as the girls stretched and practiced, strict as army training. He quietly approached by the time Cecilia sat down for a break, mottled feet dunked into a severe ice bath. She didn't give him much more than he already knew, except the fact that Jordi was much more closed off than most students knew about. And then he asked, "Can you tell me what the Love Club actually is? It's just a popularity thing, right?"
At that, Cecilia sat up straight. "It's not just a popularity thing. The Love Club is school royalty, status over everybody else, because you are the best of the best. Either in academics, or sports, or something of worth."
"And you're the Love Club president, if I'm not mistaken. Does that make you the best of the school?"
"Yes, it does."
"Better than Jordan, then?"
"...We're done here."
Cecilia said nothing else, and the detective was escorted from the building. It left a bad taste in her mouth, like bile, because she didn't know if he was right or not. Yes, perhaps Cecilia was the top of her class, but she considered Jordi to be a much better person than she could ever be. Even in death.
The girl blinked, and found herself in her homeroom class of the day, listening to her mother's voice over the intercom. Despite the many eyes that turned to watch her, Cecilia didn't flinch, or show much emotion beside a slight downturn of her lips. Soon, their class started, and she pulled out an organized binder. Her notes were meticulously organized from day one, handwriting a neat cursive, with plenty of highlighters and post-it notes. Even on the first day, she would already begin memorizing the class syllabus and figuring out her goals for the semester. And today, an attempt was made, but her mind was elsewhere. It felt like a ghost looming over her shoulder, only a couple of minutes walk away. In the paths of her memories, Cecilia could walk through the less-used halls of the academy, knowing each corner like the back of her hand. Soon, she would be outside, and approaching the swimming pool facility. The door opens by itself, and Jordi is still there, still floatingโ
Her homeroom teacher, a polished older gentlemen with salt and pepper hair, gave Cecilia a pitiful look when she didn't hear her name called the past three times. She answered his question without a pause, and she knew she needed a distraction.
Cecilia already had each other Love Club member's phone numbers saved, but getting the numbers of the new members wasn't much of a challenge. Not many people at school would tell her no. By the time lunch rolled around, she had successfully sent out the text to each club member, and she sat at her lunch table in the school's courtyard under the shade of a large old oak tree. On her lunch tray was a deliciously green chicken caesar salad, peeled mandarin orange slices, and a cup of iced sweet tea. In her neat cursive, she jotted down ideas onto small note paper, of what to discuss during their meeting. The girl paused, and shot two text messages out with a quick tap of her thumbs.
To: Hyacinth
I'm under the oak tree if you want to eat lunch together. x
To: Darius โI hope your day is going well. I'm assuming all of us in the club are attending the ceremony tonight?
โ
[div class=link]coded by christy.
[/div]
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Makomin
Sleeping
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[div class="container"][div class="containercont"][div class="chapterpic"][/div] [div class="scroll"][div class="scrollbox"][div class="title"]IGARASHI KOSUKE[/div][div class="text"]The first emotion Kosuke felt when he stepped foot into the academy during the new term was definitely a mix of annoyance and unrest.
He didn't expect to be this affected.
The Japanese-Taiwanese started his day off as usual- freehand exercises, a run, prepping for the day ahead, showering and eating. Everything fell back into place just as the previous term and those before that mandated. After all, he didn't want to think about the end of the previous term.
Whispers echoing from groups of students down the hallway begin to ring louder in his ears. Stares from both returning and new students felt like it pierced his back. The sound of shoes scraping against the obviously newly-polished floor drummed increasingly even though he knew it was just the background noise.
Kosu, looking into his almost empty locker couldn't help but feel his blood boil. An irony really, because most in his shoes would probably only recognise fear.
After all, it wasn't every day people assumed you played a part in someone's death.
The male slammed the door of his metal locker roughly, not caring it dented slightly at the opening of it.
Momentary silence engulfed the hallway just before the sound of Kosu's own shoes moving was heard.
His term break was supposed to be a form of escape for his mind. He wasn't close to Jordan Young in any sense but having been acquainted with him and seeing his lifeless body floating right in front of him during the party was a sight he was never going to forget.
---
The day after the incident, Kosu remembered receiving a call from his father for the first time in roughly four months. The last time they talked, Kosu was forced into some elite socialising event for the current running politicians.
"You better pull your act together. That kid who died, someone's going to see you tomorrow for extra statements and your whereabouts."
"Aren't you the chief? Do something about it then since you're upset." Kosu remembers replying, an obvious hit to his father's ability to make things disappear when he wanted to.
"There's only so much I can do having a son like you. You can't weasel your way out of this so just do as you're told."
--
Shifting his gaze back to his homeroom teacher, he could almost feel the older male's gaze on him too. Kosu could tell it wasn't a pleasant one especially after the announcement.
He could also tell word spread he wasn't questioned as hard as other students were, even those who've not interacted with Jordan. Kosu paid them no mind because at the rate he was going at, he would have to fight the whole school. Though, he did glare at a few students who continued giving him glances from time to time.
--
Lunch soon came after and it was evident some students were avoiding him more than they have.
"Fucking go." He said in response when said students made a way for him to go first. They returned back to their original line and Kosu merely took his food before taking a seat at his usual place, right in the middle of the cafeteria.
He whipped out his phone, sending a quick text to Mckinley, his close friend that he didn't admit often, wondering whether he was occupied with fans. He also wondered what was going to happen during the club meeting later that day.
Where are you?
tags: moonchild. [/div][/div][/div] [/div][/div] [div class="codetag"]coded by ukiiyo[/div]
He didn't expect to be this affected.
The Japanese-Taiwanese started his day off as usual- freehand exercises, a run, prepping for the day ahead, showering and eating. Everything fell back into place just as the previous term and those before that mandated. After all, he didn't want to think about the end of the previous term.
Whispers echoing from groups of students down the hallway begin to ring louder in his ears. Stares from both returning and new students felt like it pierced his back. The sound of shoes scraping against the obviously newly-polished floor drummed increasingly even though he knew it was just the background noise.
Kosu, looking into his almost empty locker couldn't help but feel his blood boil. An irony really, because most in his shoes would probably only recognise fear.
After all, it wasn't every day people assumed you played a part in someone's death.
The male slammed the door of his metal locker roughly, not caring it dented slightly at the opening of it.
Momentary silence engulfed the hallway just before the sound of Kosu's own shoes moving was heard.
His term break was supposed to be a form of escape for his mind. He wasn't close to Jordan Young in any sense but having been acquainted with him and seeing his lifeless body floating right in front of him during the party was a sight he was never going to forget.
---
The day after the incident, Kosu remembered receiving a call from his father for the first time in roughly four months. The last time they talked, Kosu was forced into some elite socialising event for the current running politicians.
"You better pull your act together. That kid who died, someone's going to see you tomorrow for extra statements and your whereabouts."
"Aren't you the chief? Do something about it then since you're upset." Kosu remembers replying, an obvious hit to his father's ability to make things disappear when he wanted to.
"There's only so much I can do having a son like you. You can't weasel your way out of this so just do as you're told."
--
Shifting his gaze back to his homeroom teacher, he could almost feel the older male's gaze on him too. Kosu could tell it wasn't a pleasant one especially after the announcement.
He could also tell word spread he wasn't questioned as hard as other students were, even those who've not interacted with Jordan. Kosu paid them no mind because at the rate he was going at, he would have to fight the whole school. Though, he did glare at a few students who continued giving him glances from time to time.
--
Lunch soon came after and it was evident some students were avoiding him more than they have.
"Fucking go." He said in response when said students made a way for him to go first. They returned back to their original line and Kosu merely took his food before taking a seat at his usual place, right in the middle of the cafeteria.
He whipped out his phone, sending a quick text to Mckinley, his close friend that he didn't admit often, wondering whether he was occupied with fans. He also wondered what was going to happen during the club meeting later that day.
Where are you?
tags: moonchild. [/div][/div][/div] [/div][/div] [div class="codetag"]coded by ukiiyo[/div]
erzulie
cheers for spring; for life; for a growing soul
The warm ray of light that filtered through her a crack in her curtains and her eyelids awoke her. She aroused slowly, opening her eyes a little and blinking in order to adjust to the sunโs light. Hyacinth laid down for a few more minutes, staring at the top of her bed while she enjoyed the feeling of silk against her skin. Eventually she managed to drag herself from the comfort of her bed. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand beside her bed and unplugged it from her charger. While checking the time she took note of the messages displayed on her screen, all of them were good morning text from admirers ranging from English to French, to Italian and Amharic.
Clicking her phone shut she threw it on her bed carelessly in favor of gathering all of her morning essentials. Hyacinth was an early riser for multiple reasons but one of the main reasons was because of her routine, which consisted of a lengthy number of steps. With her clothes and beauty products in hand the heiress made her way to the communal bathroom. Luckily for her there werenโt many people because of the time.
Hyacinth made it back to her room an hour later feeling refreshed, energized, and ready to start her day. She sat in front of her vanity, moving on to the next step in her routine, skincare. Surely if she had been given a roommate the other girl wouldnโt have been able to sleep with Hyacinth moving around. She loved the perks of being the best friend of the headmistress so much.
As usual Hyacinth made it to class on time but instead of her usually lively disposition she seemed rather...subdued. She could hear the whispers of the other students, feel their stares as she walked the halls and to her seat. Rumors tore through the school like wildfire through dry grass. While Hyacinth received no looks of accusation, the ones of pity were far worse in her opinion. Poor girl, having lost the love of her life before either of theirs has truly began. It was like something out of a tragic tale of love and lost. Hyacinth refused to react. She was better than that, learned from a young age the art of masking oneโs emotions.
She couldnโt help put become lost in her thoughts, or rather memories. She remembered the night clearly. The party had been in full swing, people dancing, mingling, and generally having a good time. She had been with Jordi, flirting with the young woman as usual and charming him with her tales of her life in France and French culture. She had been so close to telling him about her feelings concerning him when she had been called by her mother, thus causing her to walk away. The next thing she knew Jordi was face down in the pool, floating her unnaturally still. Hyacinth has never screamed so shrilly in her life.
When the authorities arrived she had been questioned and she had immediately complied despite how shaken she was. It wasnโt long before her parents found out. Her mother had been there to console her, while her father had called her into his office, only to tell her to comply with the police and that she was to remember how she should carry herself.
Hyacinth was suddenly pulled from her thoughts by the sound of the bell ringing. The young woman blinked, she hadnโt realized that sheโd been out of it for that long. Swiftly she gathered her things and headed to her next class. Her day continued to go by in a blur and when it was finally time for lunch she was thankfully for a small break. As Hyacinth began to choose what she wanted her phone rang. She pulled out the smartphone from her bag and opened it. A small smile made its way into her full lips as she saw her best friendโs name.
To: Ceciliaโค
Iโll be there in a few.
Hyacinth finished filling her tray after a few minutes. Sheโd gone with something light and simple, as she didnโt have much of an appetite lately. A Italian pasta salad, paired with a grilled chicken, a fruit salad, and cucumber was more than enough for her at the moment. With her tray filled Hyacinth left the cafeteria to meet with her friend. Upon reaching her Hyacinth sat across from her, enjoying the shade of the large oak tree.
โBonsoir Cecilia. How has your day been so far?โ
code by Ri.a
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Twin Fantasy
My Boy
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location: cafeteria
mood: stressed
interactions:
low fidelity
[/div]
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[div class=name]nobodys fool[/div]
[div class=textcontainer][div class=text]You are now a member of The Love Club.
These words were most likely intended to imbue Sinclaire with excitement and self-worth. Instead he was consumed by fear. Everyone thought he'd done it. Sinclaire White, in for a spot in the club. Sinclaire, a murderer. But he wasn't, he knew he wasn't, because the idea of being a member of the club made him ill. Who the fuck would even want him? Surely not his jock shitweed roommate Parker, who Sinclaire was dreading staying with. Not like he knew Parker well or anything, but they'd bumped into each other briefly at this year's orientation and he just seemed like the most obnoxious man on earth.
His father had him and his brothers line up like the kids from The Sound of Music every morning. Over the years, his father had shaved away his own thick Scottish accent, and it only really came out when he was angry. His brothers were following suit. Sinclaire felt like a bona fide Trainspotting heroin junkie in their presence. His father scrutinized the appearances of his brothers, Allister and Marius, who were both perfect and prim with their gingery combovers and white teeth. Sinclaire's genes were all sorts of wrong, it seemed.
"Have you put on weight again?" His father asked, bluntly. Sinclaire shrugged, face pale and throat tight. "Take up a sport while you're gone, son. You're not just anybody now."
"Unnerstood, sir." Sinclaire had called his dad 'sir' as long as he could remember.
--
He insisted on being dropped off in an inconspicuous car, which in fairness, was still a Mercedes, but preferable to the limousine his dad had wanted. The sun was blinding, and it prickled in Sinclaire's eyes. Him, in his baggy hoodie and sweatpants, hunched over like an armadillo.
The day went by somewhat normally, other than the looming, black cloud of Jordi's death hanging over everyone. It was everywhere he went. Strangers looked at him. There goes Sinclaire, that dirty, murdering coward. The stress, plus his father's dully unwarranted commentary, made the idea of eating his own lunch seem impossible. No doubt it wouldn't stay down for long, no matter how hard he'd try.
The cafeteria was so vast. He was taking an empty seat when he received a text from... The Love Club. He squinted angrily, texting back:
how the fuck do you ken my number??
Satisfied with that answer, he stared coldly at his food.
[/div][/div] [div class=credit]code by sox[/div][/div]
[/spoiler][/center]
location: cafeteria
mood: stressed
interactions:
low fidelity
[/div]
[/div]
[div class=name]nobodys fool[/div]
[div class=textcontainer][div class=text]You are now a member of The Love Club.These words were most likely intended to imbue Sinclaire with excitement and self-worth. Instead he was consumed by fear. Everyone thought he'd done it. Sinclaire White, in for a spot in the club. Sinclaire, a murderer. But he wasn't, he knew he wasn't, because the idea of being a member of the club made him ill. Who the fuck would even want him? Surely not his jock shitweed roommate Parker, who Sinclaire was dreading staying with. Not like he knew Parker well or anything, but they'd bumped into each other briefly at this year's orientation and he just seemed like the most obnoxious man on earth.
His father had him and his brothers line up like the kids from The Sound of Music every morning. Over the years, his father had shaved away his own thick Scottish accent, and it only really came out when he was angry. His brothers were following suit. Sinclaire felt like a bona fide Trainspotting heroin junkie in their presence. His father scrutinized the appearances of his brothers, Allister and Marius, who were both perfect and prim with their gingery combovers and white teeth. Sinclaire's genes were all sorts of wrong, it seemed.
"Have you put on weight again?" His father asked, bluntly. Sinclaire shrugged, face pale and throat tight. "Take up a sport while you're gone, son. You're not just anybody now."
"Unnerstood, sir." Sinclaire had called his dad 'sir' as long as he could remember.
--
He insisted on being dropped off in an inconspicuous car, which in fairness, was still a Mercedes, but preferable to the limousine his dad had wanted. The sun was blinding, and it prickled in Sinclaire's eyes. Him, in his baggy hoodie and sweatpants, hunched over like an armadillo.
The day went by somewhat normally, other than the looming, black cloud of Jordi's death hanging over everyone. It was everywhere he went. Strangers looked at him. There goes Sinclaire, that dirty, murdering coward. The stress, plus his father's dully unwarranted commentary, made the idea of eating his own lunch seem impossible. No doubt it wouldn't stay down for long, no matter how hard he'd try.
The cafeteria was so vast. He was taking an empty seat when he received a text from... The Love Club. He squinted angrily, texting back:
how the fuck do you ken my number??
Satisfied with that answer, he stared coldly at his food.
[/div][/div] [div class=credit]code by sox[/div][/div]
[/spoiler][/center]
TheWaffleLord
OC-Loving Trash
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[div class=tag3]location cafeteria
[div class=tag3]outfit xxx
[div class=tag3]with fabian
[div class=tag3]tags[/div] @moonchild.
low fidelity
[/div]
[/div]
[div class=home]
[div class=tag3]mood
distracted
[div class=tag3]location
[div class=tag3]outfit
[div class=tag3]with
[div class=tag3]tags[/div] @moonchild.
low fidelity
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[div class="tabContents tabContents07 show"]
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[div class="tabContents tabContents01"]
elijah
kinsley
[div class="tab tab1"]read more
Elijah barely opened his eyes. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, brows furrowed as he blindly grabbed for his phone to dismiss the alarm. It was quiet again. Grumbling noises trickled past his lips and seeped into his pillow. He didn't want to get up. He was sure Fay didn't want to either since he could hear him from across the room they shared. Somehow Elijah managed to push himself out of bed and convinced his friend to do so, too. He knew today was going to be especially hard with Jordi's death hanging over the school.
The night when it happened was hard to forget. It was a big pool party hosted by none other than the Love Club, of which Elijah was a member. Teens were rosy-cheeked, eager to dance and laugh their cares away. Everything had been normalโa blast, even. Then there was a bloodcurdling scream. He caught a glimpse of Jordi's body floating facedown in the pool. He retched into the nearest trash can, but the image was going to stay with him forever. Jordi was one of his friends. Elijah didn't know a whole lot about him per se, but he knew he was a good guy who didn't deserve to die so young. No one did.
Like many others, Elijah was in shock. Nothing about the circumstance felt real until the funeral took place a week later. As soon as he saw Jordi in a casket, he wept. It was a hard blow to the gut from reality that no one could have prepared for. The rest of the summer was filled with grim and harrowed faces. He could only cope through art. Apart from friends and family, it was the only thing preventing Elijah from spiraling down a deep hole. He had to keep moving forward.
The morning was hazy and Elijah spent most of it staring off into space or doodling in his journal. Teachers took pity on the students, but they also weren't exempt from the atmosphere. Lunch period came quickly. He was sitting at the usual table, eating the pan-seared salmon and rice pilaf on his tray. Every now and then, Fay would say something in the form of a question, and Elijah breathed out a short response or a weak smile that implied he wasn't truly paying attention. As much as he wanted to be involved in conversation, his mind was elsewhere. Elijah had time to reflect since June, and there was a prickly, underlying concern that nagged him. Something felt...off about Jordi's death.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. "Gimme a second, mate." He read the new message, albeit slowly, that was sent from Cecilia Montgomery. There would be a Love Club meeting later. New members had been accepted, and usually Elijah was happy to welcome them with sweet treats he baked himself, but this was a dismal prelude for it. He sighed and looked back up at his friend. Fay wasn't in the Love Club since he never showed interest for it, but he could very well be a member if he applied. He was as funny as he was smart, but didn't like to let on the latter.
"Guess the movie will have to wait. I got a club meetin' after classes. But you'll be fine, yeah?"
[/div]
[/div]
[/div]
[/div][/div]
https://www.rpnation.com/threads/๐ฐ๐ต๐ฟ๐ถ๐๐๐-โงพ-๐ฐ๐ผ๐ป๐๐๐ฒ๐น๐น๐ฎ๐๐ถ๐ผ๐ปโฒ๐-๐ฐ๐ฟ๐ถ๐๐ฝ๐-๐ฐ๐ผ๐ฑ๐ฒ๐.454487/post-9951524[/div]
The night when it happened was hard to forget. It was a big pool party hosted by none other than the Love Club, of which Elijah was a member. Teens were rosy-cheeked, eager to dance and laugh their cares away. Everything had been normalโa blast, even. Then there was a bloodcurdling scream. He caught a glimpse of Jordi's body floating facedown in the pool. He retched into the nearest trash can, but the image was going to stay with him forever. Jordi was one of his friends. Elijah didn't know a whole lot about him per se, but he knew he was a good guy who didn't deserve to die so young. No one did.
Like many others, Elijah was in shock. Nothing about the circumstance felt real until the funeral took place a week later. As soon as he saw Jordi in a casket, he wept. It was a hard blow to the gut from reality that no one could have prepared for. The rest of the summer was filled with grim and harrowed faces. He could only cope through art. Apart from friends and family, it was the only thing preventing Elijah from spiraling down a deep hole. He had to keep moving forward.
The morning was hazy and Elijah spent most of it staring off into space or doodling in his journal. Teachers took pity on the students, but they also weren't exempt from the atmosphere. Lunch period came quickly. He was sitting at the usual table, eating the pan-seared salmon and rice pilaf on his tray. Every now and then, Fay would say something in the form of a question, and Elijah breathed out a short response or a weak smile that implied he wasn't truly paying attention. As much as he wanted to be involved in conversation, his mind was elsewhere. Elijah had time to reflect since June, and there was a prickly, underlying concern that nagged him. Something felt...off about Jordi's death.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. "Gimme a second, mate." He read the new message, albeit slowly, that was sent from Cecilia Montgomery. There would be a Love Club meeting later. New members had been accepted, and usually Elijah was happy to welcome them with sweet treats he baked himself, but this was a dismal prelude for it. He sighed and looked back up at his friend. Fay wasn't in the Love Club since he never showed interest for it, but he could very well be a member if he applied. He was as funny as he was smart, but didn't like to let on the latter.
"Guess the movie will have to wait. I got a club meetin' after classes. But you'll be fine, yeah?"
low fidelity
๐๐๐๐พ๐ฝ ๐๐ ๐ฃ๐ช๐ณ๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ถ๐ด
[div class=container][div class=header][div class=hbox][div class=namebox][div class=gif][/div][div class=name]francis
โโโ
flowers[div class=extra]the love club[/div][/div][/div][div class=icon][/div][div class=info]mood: "..oh boy"
outfit: uniform
interactions: aunties, & ryan
tags:
oxytocin
[/div][/div]
[/div][div class=body][div class=scroll][div class=dialogue]"Are you nervous about your first day back, dear?"
Nervous was an understatement.
Francis was flitting around his dorm room, having slept through his alarm, and was now full of nervous energy as he got ready as fast as possible. His roommate seemed to be more punctual than him, given there was no sign of the guy, so the blond was free to panic. He had already showered, and stood half dressed, smoothing out his school uniform trousers with his cellphone held precariously between his shoulder and cheek. On the phone was his aunt Clementine, her voice smooth and steady, always calm. He could imagine the exact face she would be making now. Serious, put together, everything that Francis could only hope to achieve. His auntie Julia was with Clementine, but busy in the kitchen making breakfast.
"Kind of? I mean, I know how it's gonna be already. But everybody's sad about...you know who. And I have no idea how to handle it. I didn't know him, but I was there, which was freaking terrifying. And now, I'm in The Club, capital T, capital C for emphasis, so it's just gonna be an awkward situation."
Francis gave a little huff as he yanked on his shoes, oxfords shiny from a neat polish the night before.
"I don't wanna pop in all like, 'hey guys, whats up, sorry I witnessed some awful traumatic biz about your friend, but its all cool and thanks for letting me into your cool kids club.' But I'm not sure how else it'll go?"
His aunt gave a little hum of consideration.
"I don't think it'll go like that, Francis. Everybody processes grief in their own weird ways. You all went through something awful together. Just be understanding, as I'm sure they will be, and they'll appreciate that. I gotta go to work now, 'kay? Text me if anything, kiddo. Love ya." A bit more distantly, his aunt Julia yelled, "And me too! Call me after class! Love you!"
Francis smiled as they said their goodbyes. His frazzled nerves were soothed a bit, but the lad still rushed to pack his backpack and throw on the rest of his uniform. In the mirror, he tugged a hand through the fluffy mop of hair atop his head, and headed off to class.
Anxiety sat low in his gut, making its presence be known, as the crowded halls parted for him with ease. His height meant he towered over 80% of the student body, but at least it meant people wouldn't mess with him. Francis kept his fact set in its cool facade, betraying the emotions inside. He already heard the mumbles and whispers around, even in his homeroom class, the entire school in mourning. Jordi was dead. Even in the afterlife, he lingered through the halls of Montgomery in everybody's memories and recollections of time spent with him. And he couldn't blame them; he knew Jordi very briefly. They had chatted maybe two or three times, having the same chemistry class last year, and then hung out a bit at the party. He distinctly remembers a warm hand grasping his shoulder, a shout of congratulations! when the new members of the club were announced and celebrated. Jordi was charming and warm, like a walking sun, with the rest of the world orbiting around him. And now, he was gone. And Francis had no fucking clue how to react.
When lunchtime rolled around, Francis wasn't sure what to do. He had no clue whether to try and sit with other members of the club. Earlier, he had received the text from Cecilia, a slightly unnerving moment given he was sure he never gave them his phone number just yet. He only responded with a confirmation that was ignored, and now he stood with a lunch tray full of hearty, creamy mushroom pasta, a cup of sliced fruits, and some fancy honey turmeric lemonade. The boy wandered through the large cafeteria for a minute.
He could've properly tripped over the tiny girl, given that Ryan was literally half his height, and almost out of his line of sight. Francis quickly maneuvered to not bump into her nor drop his food, and realized, hey, she was a familiar face. She had been at the party too.
"Oh gosh, sorry. But, uh, hey! Did you get the text about the club meeting, too?" Francis asked Ryan with a raised brow. He figured he should try and make friends now, rather than later.
[/div][div class=dialogue][/div]
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โโโ
flowers[div class=extra]the love club[/div][/div][/div][div class=icon][/div][div class=info]mood: "..oh boy"
outfit: uniform
interactions: aunties, & ryan
tags:
oxytocin
[/div][/div][/div][div class=body][div class=scroll][div class=dialogue]"Are you nervous about your first day back, dear?"
Nervous was an understatement.
Francis was flitting around his dorm room, having slept through his alarm, and was now full of nervous energy as he got ready as fast as possible. His roommate seemed to be more punctual than him, given there was no sign of the guy, so the blond was free to panic. He had already showered, and stood half dressed, smoothing out his school uniform trousers with his cellphone held precariously between his shoulder and cheek. On the phone was his aunt Clementine, her voice smooth and steady, always calm. He could imagine the exact face she would be making now. Serious, put together, everything that Francis could only hope to achieve. His auntie Julia was with Clementine, but busy in the kitchen making breakfast.
"Kind of? I mean, I know how it's gonna be already. But everybody's sad about...you know who. And I have no idea how to handle it. I didn't know him, but I was there, which was freaking terrifying. And now, I'm in The Club, capital T, capital C for emphasis, so it's just gonna be an awkward situation."
Francis gave a little huff as he yanked on his shoes, oxfords shiny from a neat polish the night before.
"I don't wanna pop in all like, 'hey guys, whats up, sorry I witnessed some awful traumatic biz about your friend, but its all cool and thanks for letting me into your cool kids club.' But I'm not sure how else it'll go?"
His aunt gave a little hum of consideration.
"I don't think it'll go like that, Francis. Everybody processes grief in their own weird ways. You all went through something awful together. Just be understanding, as I'm sure they will be, and they'll appreciate that. I gotta go to work now, 'kay? Text me if anything, kiddo. Love ya." A bit more distantly, his aunt Julia yelled, "And me too! Call me after class! Love you!"
Francis smiled as they said their goodbyes. His frazzled nerves were soothed a bit, but the lad still rushed to pack his backpack and throw on the rest of his uniform. In the mirror, he tugged a hand through the fluffy mop of hair atop his head, and headed off to class.
Anxiety sat low in his gut, making its presence be known, as the crowded halls parted for him with ease. His height meant he towered over 80% of the student body, but at least it meant people wouldn't mess with him. Francis kept his fact set in its cool facade, betraying the emotions inside. He already heard the mumbles and whispers around, even in his homeroom class, the entire school in mourning. Jordi was dead. Even in the afterlife, he lingered through the halls of Montgomery in everybody's memories and recollections of time spent with him. And he couldn't blame them; he knew Jordi very briefly. They had chatted maybe two or three times, having the same chemistry class last year, and then hung out a bit at the party. He distinctly remembers a warm hand grasping his shoulder, a shout of congratulations! when the new members of the club were announced and celebrated. Jordi was charming and warm, like a walking sun, with the rest of the world orbiting around him. And now, he was gone. And Francis had no fucking clue how to react.
When lunchtime rolled around, Francis wasn't sure what to do. He had no clue whether to try and sit with other members of the club. Earlier, he had received the text from Cecilia, a slightly unnerving moment given he was sure he never gave them his phone number just yet. He only responded with a confirmation that was ignored, and now he stood with a lunch tray full of hearty, creamy mushroom pasta, a cup of sliced fruits, and some fancy honey turmeric lemonade. The boy wandered through the large cafeteria for a minute.
He could've properly tripped over the tiny girl, given that Ryan was literally half his height, and almost out of his line of sight. Francis quickly maneuvered to not bump into her nor drop his food, and realized, hey, she was a familiar face. She had been at the party too.
"Oh gosh, sorry. But, uh, hey! Did you get the text about the club meeting, too?" Francis asked Ryan with a raised brow. He figured he should try and make friends now, rather than later.
[/div][div class=dialogue][/div]
[/div]
โกcoded by uxieโก
[/div]
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โกcoded by uxieโก
Last edited:
oxytocin
love drug
trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of an anxiety attack & a mild allusion to v*mit. love y'all! read w/ caution โก
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For those who are unaware, Ryan is a bit of a space case. It is for that reason she was stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of a bustling high school cafeteria, eyes centered directly on the shiny surface of her size 6 mary-janes and ruffled white socks. Held tightly in her hand is a lunch bag positively littered in pins and positive affirmations. She is centering on a happy place. Around her, there are so many colors, and smells, and sounds, and there is no Darius, and over and over again she hears Jordi and that awful four letter word. The lunch bag is trembling in her grasp. Breathing feels more laborious than it should. Her vision is blurring. Counting to ten is hard, because her brain cannot focus, and in the back of her throat, she tastes iron and bile. She swallows.
A horrible, dark little corner of her head wonders, for the briefest moment, if perhaps Darius would be okay in prison after all.
There is a shadow, which consumes the entirety of her figure, but it does not immediately focus her attention. It takes one voice, one clear, strong, gentle, beautiful little voice to bring her back to earth.
"Oh, gosh, sorry. But, uh, hey! Did you get the text about the club meeting, too?"
Ryan looks up. And then she looks up a bit more. The boy in front of her is tall, notably so, and very cute. Something about him immediately puts her at ease. She nods enthusiastically, curls bouncing around her face as though they had life of their own. "I did! But, oh, my God, I didn't respond. Is that rude? That's totally rude, isn't it, oh my God, I bet they think I'm some big bitch, oh my God." She proceeds to fumble around for her phone, and then freezes. "But not as big of a bitch as you must think I am! Oh my God, I am soooooo sorry, dude! I didn't even introduce myself, and you took the time to like, actually recognize me." She cleared her throat theatrically, and smoothed down her pleated skirt. With a ridiculous amount of vigor, she thrust forth her tiny hand, flashing her sunflower manicure that she got for the new semester.
She gave her most inviting Colgate commercial smile. "I'm Ryan! Love Club newbie. It's so nice to meet you!"
[div class=border][div class=charname]ryan lewis ( โ๏ฝฅเฑช๏ฝฅ)[/div]
[div class=charinfo]sunshine girl![/div][/div]
coded by
constellation
.
[/div]
constellation
.
calypso
fairest
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[div class=container][div class=holder][div class=contents][div class=container][div class=top][div class=toppic]
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[div class=topinfo][div class=scroll]// mood
[div class=toptag]grouchy.[/div]
// outfit
[div class=toptag]uniform.[/div]
// location
[div class=toptag]walking around campus.[/div]
// interactions
[div class=toptag]n/a.[/div]
// tags
[div class=toptag]tags here.[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=post]Nothing was wrong in the world of Sawyer Kitovits.
At least, that was what he was pretending. When his sister Rosemary pounded on his door early in the morning for him to wake up, he yelled at her to screw off like normal. She told him to fuck off and get his ass to class, and he threw the nearest water bottle into the door-frame to get the message across. It was the first day of the year, which means he wasn't coming in till lunch. That was the normal, and since nothing was wrong...
Rolling over in his bed, a groan sounded from the blonde boy. His hand moved across his large bed to grab his phone, giving it a tug to dislodge it from the nearly shredded charger. No matter how much money he had, Sawyer was far too lazy to replace the fraying wire. His finger slid across the screen to lower the brightness, before he squinted and turned it back up again. His free hand then reached down to scratch himself, while his other hand flipped through his morning social media. Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter...
A frown formed over his face, before he tossed his phone aside and groaned. Nothing was wrong, and everything was fine. The news is always annoying, right? One kid dies and...
His train of thought paused as his phone dinged with a text message, and he grunted. He reached across the mattress with an annoyed look, before he raised his screen up to his face. Cecilia was already having a meeting? His eyes flicked up the clock on his phone, and he once again made a grunting noise as he swung himself out of bed. Of course, Sawyer slept naked. Every night, no matter the season. He was a man, after all. Once his feet brushed against the plush carpet next to his bed, he stood up and fully (and unknowingly) mooned the entire street behind him. A brilliant idea to push his bed right next to the window, and leave the curtain open all the time.
At least he was on the third floor.
After fully exposing his ass to the passerby's for a minute, he ruffled his own hair and walked over towards his closet. Rosemary had already left at the actual appropriate time, which was the smartest thing for her to do. It's not like he'd walk into school with her, anyway. People would start asking questions, and then he'd have to answer. As he wiggled his briefs on and looked around his own room, his mind continued to wander. Wandering was dangerous, he knew that much. Since nothing was wrong in his life, it would be stupid to let some random thought ruin his day. Even if he really, really wanted to think about it...
Shaking his hair out, Sawyer hadn't even realized he was done getting dressed. Though his mind was threatening to wander off, his hands knew what to do. It was easy, considering he wore the uniform daily. Little aspects of it had changed over the years, but the core idea remained the same. His eyes turned towards his mirror, and he nearly winced. There were bags under his eyes, for reasons he rather not think about. Reasons that shouldn't be bothering him so much.
One hand ran through his hair, before he flipped it to the side. A flawless natural look, and it worked like a charm. He flashed himself a smile in the mirror, before snagging his phone off the bed and leaving his dorm without his backpack. Not like he was going to be using it, anyway.
At this point in the day, he had missed majority of the classes, and he didn't plan to attend any of the other ones now. No, he only came onto campus for the meeting Cecilia had sprung up. Till then, he'd just wander around and kick rocks.[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=sideholder][div class=name]sawyer.[/div][/div][/div][/div]
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constellation
.
[/div]
constellation
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