Fandom Divergent: Faction Before Blood // RP Thread

[a z u l a]

Raven Salazar - Transfer Initiate - Kirby spyder and Charlie Nerdy. ​

A birthday party was something Raven hadn't celebrated in quite some time. Alcohol, raucous laughter, and tongues flowed to and from mouths like currency being exchanged. It seemed to be the most common type of trading in Dauntless, whereas information and honesty had been the preferred currency in Candor. Or, at least that was what they wanted you to think. Perhaps Dauntless should've been called Candor, because while no one trusted each other and secrets were kept close to one's chest, most Dauntless were clear in their intentions. Whether they wanted to test you, fight you, or hook up with you, a Dauntless was always straight up with their motivations.

As unnerving as Dauntless was, there was something about it that made Raven feel like she belonged here. Perhaps it was because she was a killer, or because she housed a hatred so deep inside her heart for a certain Candor that it threatened to rip her chest open and crawl out to strangle her. The darkness Raven had fought for so long was welcomed here, even so much as encouraged here. Candor would have shamed her for the beast crawling beneath her skin, but Dauntless was giving her the chance to tame that beast and make it her own.

That is, as long as she survived the initiation test. The guilt, anger, and sheer panic threatened to consume her through every step of this process. Every day Raven debated dropping out and running away, but her time spent on the street before the transfer was something she never wanted to repeat. Raven would make it in Dauntless, even if it killed her. There was no way she would let him win.

After ordering a drink, Raven began the difficult task of trying to find a place to sit. So lost in her anxiety over the next stage of initiation, the brunette didn't even notice Kirby until she'd walked directly into her, their foreheads colliding with a harsh thump that sent pain radiating through her skull. Raven winced as her nerves throbbed, looking up slowly as to not hurt her head anymore, only to see blood slowly spreading down Kirby's face. She was clearly in pain, surely the same discomfort was written across her own face, but at least Raven wasn't bleeding.

"Ah-hey Kirby." Raven grimaced, embarrassed by how distracted she'd been. Splitting open another initiate's head due to clumsiness was probably the stupidest thing you could do. Though she wasn't bleeding, Raven's brain felt like it was rattling around in her skull, a migraine piercing her whole head as she tried to focus on the girl in front of her.

"No, it's okay. it's totally my fault for being distracted." She waved the other initiate off, they both hadn't been paying attention so neither was more to blame than the other. While most other Dauntless would've been defensive, Raven was more than willing to admit when she was wrong. The Candor honesty was too deeply ingrained in her to let go of now.

"I'm fine. Probably better than you, actually." Raven frowned, tentatively stepping closer to inspect the cut on her brow. "You should get this looked at." Before Kirby could protest, Raven was looking around for their medic. Spotting Charlie in a corner booth, the brunette began frantically waving to grab her attention.

"Charlie!"

 

[Aviator]

Ghost // Male // Age 18 // Training Instructor // Erudite to Dauntless
​

Contrary to overwrought soap operas where the sum of a character’s good sense would fly right out of their head the second that a drink touched their lips, the combined alcohol and cannabis made themselves known in subtle ways—at first. As the game progressed, whatever Ghost had previously been thinking about was completely and suddenly obliterated by the impossible pointiness of Bloom’s chin, and how, with her forehead framed by bangs, her face formed the perfect shape of a diamond. For some reason, Ghost found this observation way funnier than it had any business being, and his mouth stretched into a wide grin that immediately hurt to maintain. A core of warmth was forming behind his eyes, and his body felt like it was growing increasingly heavy, slowly folding in on itself and disintegrating the unnecessary parts in an attempt to preserve organs vital to survival. Disintegrating. That word was five syllables. Distill was only two, and the only word Ghost could conjure to describe how his perception of reality was filtering into distinct parts, with lights and colors floating to the top and time and sound sinking to the bottom.
Ghost wasn’t aware how long Bloom had been calling his name before he stopped fixating on how he could feel the bass of the current electropop song vibrating in the very depths of his soul and returned the scattered fragments of his attention to her. What a strange concept, names. That any human being would attach meaning to a certain arrangement of letters and phonemes and claim it as their own, like a piece of land. It was arrogant, in a way, that assumption of ownership, an arrogance that was thwarted only when the human being in question encountered someone with whom they shared the very name they had tried to take for themselves. Not that that had ever been an issue for a guy whose parents had named Ferris. That shame was Ghost’s alone to bear.
Bloom’s eyes were such an acute shade of green that her staring felt like lasers being trained on him. Ghost moistened his lips in anticipation to reply to her question, but his tongue had all the weight and mobility of a stone, and he swore his lips came away even more parched. “But why… would you ask that… when I thought the goal was to get messed up from the start?” Ghost’s speech came out in halting bursts, painstakingly slow in some places and carelessly jumbled in others. Finding the dichotomy between Bloom’s question and the intent of their unsavory indulgence to be unbearably funny, Ghost cackled with glee, raised his daiquiri to his lips, and with utmost concentration, successfully winked at Bloom over the rim of the glass. He took a swig and imagined himself able to hear the buzz of sugar molecules being introduced to his body. Sugar increases dopamine production in the brain, Ghost thought automatically, peculiarly reminded of the neuroscience class he had taken three or five years ago.
“I haven’t been all right in years and I’m not about to start tonight,” he proudly declared to Bloom, ignorant of the fact that the sun was at its zenith in the sky. A bead of watery red liquid shone up from the wooden countertop where Ghost was just about to place his drink, and he realized some of his daiquiri must have dribbled down his chin. “I’ll take a Dirty Shirley after this because it’s fun to say. Hey, the name of this game is truth or dare, right? What even is truth, anyway? Like, my perception of truth might be different from your perception, and if that’s the case and truth is subjective to the speaker, then doesn’t that undermine the definition of truth being, well, truth?” Ghost wasn’t sure which was going faster, his brain or his racing heart. Infinite wisdom hovered on the edge of his grasp, and he reached for it.
“Hm… I dare you to…” His hair dryly rasped against his cheek when he brushed it out of his eyes, and his skin tingled with the ghost of the touch afterward. Ghost’s eyes jumped from place to place as he searched for inspiration, first flicking along the bar and then outward toward the street where parade floats glided lazily past and noisy knots of people surged around them. Eventually his eyes came to rest on a taxidermied moose head hanging above the glass-paned front doors of a burger shop across the street. The moose’s antlers haloed its head and curled close together to form a spiky off-white cradle. Ghost’s eyelids felt like there were weights attached to them, and staring at the large decorative moose, all he was able to think about was how much he would have liked to lay down and nestle between its antlers.
“Okay, I got one. Um, I, uhh…” He blinked furiously. Whatever he had been about to say a moment ago seemed like it burned with importance, yet strangely enough his head felt suddenly empty. And then an even better idea filled his brain as immediately and intensely as a grenade exploding. “Oh, I know! I dare you to go across the street to Big Bang Burger and hang a barstool from the antlers on the moose.” At Bloom’s incredulous expression, Ghost nodded so enthusiastically that the motion sent a twist of dizziness through his stomach. He took another swig of his strawberry daiquiri, immensely pleased with himself, and managed not to spill any down his shirtfront or on the bar this time. Bloom’s eyes were round as poker chips at the prospect of hanging a barstool so far off the ground in such a public place. “How you choose to go about it is up to you. That’s the beauty of it,” Ghost hiccuped. The sticky bartop looked amazingly comfortable, and while he would usually be wary of what had previously been sitting there, at this moment he wanted nothing more than to swan dive onto the table and rest his eyes until Bloom finished her dare.
And he was seriously thinking about it, just as a mountain of muscle and blond hair sidled past. Christian Parks was oblivious to Ghost’s presence fifteen feet away, carrying one of those silver dome things with food inside them—the word for them was escaping Ghost—between his meaty hands, his eyes never straying from his destination. He moves so rigidly, like he has a literal stick up his ass, Ghost thought, giggling to himself. Christian Parks’s unexpected appearance tugged a loose, insistent thread at the back of Ghost’s mind. Wasn’t he supposed to do something when he saw Parks? Something that had nothing to do with kidnapping his father. Ghost wasn’t so far gone that he’d forgotten he was supposed to know nothing about Obadiah Parks, or the strange encounter with three adolescent malcontents the man had had yesterday. Ghost remembered promising Parks that he would be home in time for dinner if the faction leader cooperated with his and Blair’s questions and seriously wondered whether he’d kept his word and Parks had gotten dinner, after all. It was much later than Ghost had anticipated when they’d dumped Parks’s unconscious body off at that street corner.
Stop thinking about that shit, Ghost reminded himself, knowing that a slip of the tongue would be easy and disastrous both at once. His eyes narrowed on Christian’s retreating back, only a portion of which was visible now as the sea of people swallowed him whole. Chris, Obadiah, Blair… What was Ghost supposed to say to Chris? I told him I figured out who gave Christian the drugs that put him in the hospital. Blair’s words from yesterday banged around inside Ghost’s head like firecrackers, loud and bright and terribly real. “Was that really me she was talking about?” Ghost murmured to himself. A storm of wretchedness and shame and guilt threatened to break over his head. How could he have even sold Christian the drugs that had cost Ghost six years of suffering, let alone knowingly given him an overdose? I’m a terrible, terrible person. I shouldn’t be alive. Why do people like me exist? The world would be so much better off without us, Ghost thought implacably. On impulse he reached for his cannabis pen and took a long pull, letting the smoke linger in his mouth until he was forced to expel it.
Ghost glanced across the street at the Big Bang Burger, outside of which Bloom was standing with one hand hooked under the seat of a barstool she had purloined, gazing pensively up at the moose head as if wondering how in God’s name she was supposed to climb up there and hang a barstool from the antlers. For half a second Ghost hesitated, feeling guilty about just abandoning their game of truth or dare, but apologizing to Christian was more important. Bloom would understand and make the same choice in his position, he was sure of it. Too bad Ghost didn’t have her number, or else he would have texted her saying that he had to go but might be back soon.
He sipped the watery remnants of his strawberry daiquiri, until only a flavorless slush crouched at the bottom of the glass. Hell would freeze over before Ghost let a free drink he’d won as the result of his own merit go to waste. He lurched to his feet, one hand clutching the countertop for support as his legs adjusted to the sudden weight they were saddled with. Find Christian, find Christian, find… Ghost chanted to himself in an endless loop, terrified that he would forget and miss his one chance to make amends. Unperturbed by the close-knit clusters of people he was cutting through, he raced in the direction in which Christian had disappeared, the ground flying beneath his feet. The headlong drop into reckless motion reminded Ghost of when he’d first been learning to skate and couldn’t figure out how to stop for the longest time. Just like then, he hoped that no inattentive children or intoxicated adults chose to dart out in front of him now, lest there be a nasty collision.
It was between this thought and the next that a familiar figure materialized in front of him, if not the one he’d been expecting. Blair Avalon’s blond curtain was dyed orange in the glaring colored lights, which winked off the metal dome she was holding. Blair wasn’t whom Ghost had intended to run into, but she was always a welcome distraction. He tripped over his own shoes in an effort to keep from slamming into her and narrowly succeeded. Some small part of his brain registered that Blair was standing with two other blond teenagers, but they were unimportant and he quickly dismissed their presence. Ghost’s heart had been beating fast before, but in the wake of his impromptu flight it was pounding.
Blair was resplendent: She wore a lacy blue confection that looked like it would come undone with one well-placed tug, like a poorly wrapped present. Her hair was gathered into a braid, putting her heavy brows and delicately sloping nose on display. Ghost distantly wondered whether he had ever seen her with her hair pulled back before. “Blair.” Over the buzzing in his skull, Ghost’s voice sounded like a thin, reedy keening. He hoped it didn’t sound that way to Blair, too. The colored lights shifted from cider orange to poisonous green, and her edges blurred into a surreal impressionist portrait. “My ballet-dreaming sugarplum fairy. You are quite possibly the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Not the beautifulest—that title’s reserved for someone else, and I don’t think she likes sharing but me personally I see no problem with it—but holy shit, I would give you everything I own if I could just like look at you naked for two minutes. Well, except for my decks of cards. You can’t have those. And my Wicked Sisters are off the table, too. But you can have everything—oh my god, is that red velvet?”
The aroma was bewitching. How it had escaped Ghost’s notice until now, he had no idea, but now that he’d caught a whiff of it, he was certain he could have located the cake from blocks away based on scent alone. A quarter of the cream cheese-topped delicacy had been neatly cut away, and Ghost found himself intensely jealous of whoever had beaten him to the cake. The rest of the cake was intact and unsliced, and it took every ounce of his self-restraint to keep from pouncing on it and tearing it apart with his bare hands. “Let’s get a knife for this bitch, I’m starving! Either of you guys got one? A knife, that is. Bitches I could get on my own if I wanted ‘em.”
Now that Blair’s companions had become relevant to the conversation and possibly instrumental to Ghost’s cake-eating, he allowed his attention to shift away from Blair. A nudge like he was forgetting something itched at his mind when he looked at Christian Parks, but Ghost wasn’t sure what. No matter, then. If he couldn’t remember what it was, then it probably wasn’t important. The other boy was not quite so recognizable to Ghost. At least, not his name. But the curve of his cheekbones and stubborn set of his jaw were so strikingly reminiscent of Blair that Ghost had to momentarily pause and assess how seriously he was tripping. “Ohhh, you’re one of the brothers, aren’t you? There’s like, five of you guys, right? That makes sense. See, I knew there had to be another explanation.”
Ghost narrowed his eyes and wagged a finger at Blair’s brother—Buck?—as if the latter had tried to get away with something sneaky and very nearly pulled it off. “The family resemblance is tangible. So much so that, I’m not into guys, but if I were…” Ghost trailed off meaningfully. “But for real, prolly not. One time when I was very young my father caught me holding hands with a boy, and I got my ass whipped so hard that I couldn’t sit for three days. You can say I learned my lesson after that. But with the right kind of convincing? I suppose anything is possible.” With a surprising amount of dexterity, Ghost twirled his cannabis pen between his fingers, took a short pull, and managed to swallow most of the smoke without coughing. “Anyone care for a hit?” he said, holding out the pen to no one in particular.

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Shayla

Mood: Overwhelmed

Location: Tattoo Parlor

Interactions: Open

If Shayla could she would have given her soul to help Aubrey through the pain of losing Caspian. This was why she wanted to make her death as quietly tragic as possible, this was why she didn’t want to matter to others when her time comes. Seeing Aubrey like this was everything Shayla never wanted for the girl who was once her best friend. Their conversation had been so short but perhaps that was for the best. Being around Aubrey was always hard for her after everything she had done to the blonde. On the outside, she was cold as ice to the girl but inside Shayla still cared with all her heart for her former best friend. Though Aubrey would never guess Shayla was still as loyal to her as she had been when they were younger. While the dying girl was aware that she shouldn’t have such close connections or feelings for someone she chose to ice out, she still knew deep in her heart that she would still take a bullet for her former best friend without hesitation.

Watching Aubrey walk away without following was one of the hardest things Shayla had done in a while. She hated that she had started the conversation with Aubrey because she realized that it must feel like whiplash to the other girl. One moment Shayla won’t even look at her and the next she is apologizing for Caspian’s loss. It wasn’t fair for her to create even the smallest spark of hope for Aubrey and so she knew that for the foreseeable future she would once again need to avoid the girl as much as possible. It was hard but in the end, Shayla truly hoped it would be worth it so that Aubrey would not feel the same pain she does now. The dark-haired beauty hadn’t been deaf to the sentence Aubrey had begun but never finished regarding how important Shayla used to be to her. It stuck with her, echoed at the back of her mind, she needed Aubrey not to care in order to save her heart in the long run. It was what Shayla had done with her siblings and her parents, except her father who understood the situation, because it is what she felt deep in her heart was best in the long run.

Standing at the bar for a moment longer Shayla looked down at her drink before placing it on the bar and walking away. She had had enough of the party for the day and was ready to head home. Pushing her way through the crowd she did her best to focus on moving forward so she could get out of this crowd and situation as quickly as possible. She wasn’t sure where she was going at this point but she didn’t mind being on autopilot for a little while since it meant she didn’t have to focus on the world around her. After a few minutes, she recognized she had walked all the way to the tattoo parlor she worked at part-time and a sigh of relief escaped her. Entering the rotating door she nodded to Lance who was manning the front desk and made her way to her workspace in the back to hide. When she got there she grabbed one of the sketchbooks she left at her space and opened it to the tattoo she was working on for herself. It was one to match a series she already had started on her body. Her hand flickered across the paper as she added more details and shading to the Raptor skull surrounded by marigolds.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Vex

Mood: Calculating

Location: Bar

Interactions: Mentions Ghost and Kirby

If Vex could have slaughtered Mav, Cas, and Randi in that moment she would have with great joy. She was a professional, a perfectly trained machine, but there was only so much she could do when she had to play a certain role. Her annoyance never showed externally as Mav raced off after the blonde bimbo, he apparently had some form of feelings for. Instead, she played the part of the overly drunk transfer initiate and hiccupped a few times before stumbling slightly against the wall with a little pout on her lush lips to pull off the look. She didn’t have to bother with keeping up appearances for long because right after Mav departed so to did Cas. That worked just fine for Vex because honestly it was exhausting acting like some drunk party girl, and she could use a moment to put the act aside.

The moment Cas, Mav, and Randi had all gone Vex made sure the door closed securely and dropped her act for a moment. She was alone, there was no one else here, she could just be for a moment. Looking into the mirror she saw her emotionless resting bitch face looking back at her. In her mind, she went through the information she had and what her plan would be from here. Mav was off the table so her initial investigation into what he might know of his brother’s murder and if her frame job was holding up was a bust but that didn’t mean the whole day had to be. She smirked as she smeared her lipstick a bit, just to really sell the drunk girl look, and teased her hair. Vex knew that after yesterday there was one man she needed to talk to for her sake as well as the sake of those who pulled her strings. Adjusting her outfit a bit to better display her assets Vex got back into character within the blink of an eye.

Throwing the bathroom door open carelessly Vex began her prowl once again though onlookers would just see another drunk girl stumbling through the crowd. Her consciously focusing and unfocusing gaze scanned the crowds around her as she picked up another drink to make the scene more convincing. She was looking for one very particular young instructor who had managed to really piss her off the day before but now intrigued her like an amusing piece of prey. Perhaps if he performed well she might not kill him instantly but that was of course if he took her up on her offer. She could tell he was the sort of asset Dr. Munro could possibly be interested in. Not only that but she could see herself having some other uses for him that he would most definitely enjoy if he just entertained her offer long enough to find out. Eventually, she knew she would likely have to eliminate Ghost but for now, he had so much potential to offer and she needed to try and make him see that.

Making her way through the crowd she for a brief moment spotted Kirby through the crowd. She knew the girl was always there, always watching, always tracking her. It was Kirby’s job and Dr. Munro had given Vex specific instructions to try to make it as easy as she could on Kirby without compromising the mission. Kirby was, after all, the one responsible for her tune-ups while this whole initiate charade was going on and even before then when Vex was responsible for other missions. Vex wasn’t particularly attached to Kirby in any way, she wasn’t particularly attached to anyone other than her masters for that matter, but she knew that keeping Kirby safe would help her mission in the long run. The look she gave the girl would appear to most as nothing at all, just a drunk girl staring off into space for a heartbeat, but she knew Kirby would understand it as a sign that Vex was moving out. Her hunt was taking her elsewhere.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Fable

Mood: Comforted

Location: Party

Interactions: Griffon & Anne

While the crushing weight of all that had happened the day before still lay heavily on Fable’s heart, talking with Griffon did give her the strength she needed to make it through the next few hours. She would hold out as long as the party went on, as long as she needed to put on a good face, she would be ‘okay’ for that long. Once she found a moment that was all her own…well…she didn’t want to think what would happen then and she certainly didn’t want to imagine sleeping and reliving Dante’s end. For now, she could do the one thing she learned from her parents, she could be someone else for just a little while, she could be a happier version of herself.

Anne’s sudden appearance made the daunting challenge of acting okay a bit easier. It was hard to not smile when two cinnamon rolls such as Anne and Griffon were there with their sweet grins and adorable mannerisms. Fable didn’t know Anne well yet but from what she had seen of the girl so far it was easy to tell that Anne was one of the good ones. She was such a sweetheart and the way she and Griffon were able to communicate and make each other smile warmed Fable’s heart. It wasn’t often that Fable found someone she would be willing to truly risk it all for but Griffon was easily someone she would die for and if Anne stuck around she had no doubts her feelings would become nearly as strong for the petite girl. They were so sweet, so pure like the living embodiments of hot chocolate and marshmallows and Fable knew that if anything bad were to happen to either of them she would hunt down everyone involved.

The excitement her brother and Anne had about getting food drove Fable to realize she hadn’t eaten in quite a while. She followed them to the grilled cheese stand and ordered herself a grilled cheese with tomato and bacon on it, a bit odd but she enjoyed it immensely. She also ordered each of them a soda pop to drink along with their food, a grape soda for herself, and the other two she let pick their drinks by pointing at the sign. Fable felt bad that she didn’t know sign language well yet. She had done her best to try and learn when Griffon moved in but learning languages seemed to be harder than she thought. She knew a few basic things but forming sentences was an absolute disaster for her and she wished she could be better. She hated not being able to communicate with Anne in a way that was more convenient for her and she also hated that Griffon needed to act as a translator for the two.

As the small group sat and ate their food Fable pulled out her phone casually. Hoping to somehow pick up a thing or two in the few minutes they were eating the fiery-haired girl pulled up one of her sign language lesson videos and watched it on mute with the subtitles on so the other two would be less likely to notice. She didn’t want to seem weird about it but she also didn’t want to seem rude by not at least trying to have a base understanding of sign so she could better communicate. Her focus was drawn away from the video however when Griffon began to try to show Anne how to say their names, or at least indicate their names, easier. It was such a sweet moment to witness and made her proud to be able to call the young man her brother even if they didn’t share blood. Wanting to join in in her own way Fable ripped off a few pieces of her bacon, and tomato grilled cheese and offered it to Anne and Griffon with a smile. “It’s really good.” She promised as the smell drifted into her nose and she felt the warmth of orange spread through her mind, the color that always came with the smell of such savory food.

Nerdy. spyder

code by Stardust Galaxy

 

[Nerdy.]

Aubrey Amber Stark || 16 || Initiate || Dauntlessborn

Aubrey watched Thorn with deep, ocean blue eyes, as he gently went over what it was that she had just experienced. Her gut reaction to this knowledge was mortified, as she felt like someone had just stabbed her in the heart. That was just a panic attack? She almost wanted to scowl at the thought, but kept her face strangely numb while Thorn explained to her that he had also had them. But I don't get them. Surely that wasn't a panic attack. Surely I was actually dying? Maybe it was the drinks, or Shayla poisoned me somehow, or someone just tried to kill me and obviously I survived. She thought these things to herself, even while she knew deep down that Thorn's words were truth, she didn't want to - she couldn't - believe that they were true. Panic attacks were for the weak, for people who couldn't bear, couldn't handle, their situations. Aubrey could handle anything, Shayla mentioning Caspian wasn't what put her over the edge, she refused to believe it. However, she wasn't going to yell at Thorn for getting it all wrong. He was being kind, she could tell, and he truly meant no harm. She had learned a lot from her mother and sister about how kind to be, and although that was not her natural inclination, she did know how to be kind, a strange semblance on someone like her, to be sure. She smiled softly at Thorn, not interrupting and continuing to listen intently to him. When he finally finished and asked her how she was feeling, she rolled the question over in her mind to figure out if she could even answer that question. She felt out of breath, like she had just run a marathon, and her heart was still pounding on her chest like after Finn had kissed her, or after she had almost drowned in the river. She felt embarrassed, she felt wounded, she felt weak, she felt sorry that Thorn had been here to watch her weakness, but also she felt secure that she hadn't been alone. She felt glad that it was over, but ashamed that it had happened. She nibbled on the inside of her cheek before shrugging and laughing, starting with a very fake laugh but eventually morphing into her genuine giggle that she was known for. "I feel cold, it's freezing out here. We should go back inside." She said, watching as Thorn processed that and nodded. But as she tried to take a stpe, her body reminded her that she had drank a few drinks in that time, very quickly and in succession. She groaned, looking at Thorn sheepishly. "We should probably get some water, I would rather be a bit more sober before getting to my mums place for dinner." She giggled again, as she alcohol warmed her insides and she delightfully grabbed onto Thorn's arm and began to walk inside with him.

Now Aubrey was no lightweight, she could drink a LOT. This was a proven fact, and she had outdrank many of her friends and many strangers also. She tended to stay away from drugs, a personal request from her mother and Charlie, but alcohol was her crutch and her weakness. She was a very brave, outgoing, outrageous, exciteable and energetic person as it was, but when she had alcohol it continued to boost those up and up. She knew she had a limit, though she had only stumbled upon that limit a handful of times, and she didn't enjoy that outcome, as it often came with hangovers that were basically paralyzing, genuine sicknesses, body spasms and hit her with raw emotions. So no, Aubrey was not quite "drunk" right in this moment, but she was definitely tipsy. She giggled a lot as she walked with Thorn, her sentences ranging from absolutely ridiculous, to almost sensible. "You know, if I were a leader of Dauntless I think I would have a gladiator ring to have really fun fighting bouts with people like Maverick, I would love to fight Maverick because he is so big and buff and has such nice hair did you know he kissed me once when we were little? I don't know why, I thought it was silly back then, maybe he wants to kiss me now? Probably not, he's quite sad right now, but Finn kissed me, but that was weird, because my nose was bleeding, and then it just tasted like blood, and I really don't like tasting blood while kissing, it really turns the mood off, don't you think? Plus it was weird for Finn to kiss me, but hey, he hasn't come around me since then so maybe I'm just a really bad kisser, I hope not though..." Aubrey stopped her chatter to do a little burp, and giggled, continuing to chatter on now about how silly burps were and how she was sure she could burp louder than anyone. She was not thinking about whether or not Thorn was enjoying the conversation but he wasn't stopping her, and every time she looked at him she was pretty sure he was smiling. He looked happy, handsome even, and very sweet, like a chocolate bar. Aubrey's eyes widened and she bounced up and down. "Chocolate! Thorn we HAVE to get chocolate, did you know you can get deep fried chocolate bars? They are so sickening but soooooooo good you got to try it." Aubrey rambled on as her eyes scanned the area, realizing though that they were still walking through a bar her eyes transfixed upon the alcoholic beverages and she could feel her hands twitch in response to the sight and smell she could feel. Thorn agreed with her idea for chocolate though, immediately distracting Aubrey's alcoholic desires, and she fixated on Thorn again. She wasn't sure when Thorn handed her a water bottle, but she was suddenly aware that she had drank all of the water in it, and was already feeling a little more clear headed. Her mind was still fixated on Chocolate for the moment though.

It only took the about 10 or so minutes to find a stall that made and sold deep fried chocolate bars, and Aubrey tried to buy two, but Thorn beat her this time. She watched him as he did so, smiling to herself and then exciteably biting into the chocolate as he handed it to her. "MMG.... owwwwwww.... it's hot" She laughed, wincing slightly as she swallowed quickly as to not continue burning her tongue. She blew on the next bite, before eating it. She let out a moan of delight as the battered, chocolatey mess swirled in her mouth and then sunk into her throat. She licked her lips, finishing her one quickly and wiping her fingers on the tissues they had been given, then quickly balling them up and throwing them into a nearby trashcan. She was feeling a bit more level headed, but she knew she needed to sober up a bit more before dinner, as she didn't want to disappoint her mother and Charlie, and also she needed to be able to think clearly when they met whoever was Charlie's boyfriend, abuser. She eyeballed the fighting rings and she and Thorn stopped for a bit to watch them. "I wish I was dressed in something that I was okay to fight in, this is too nice though, and probably wouldn't be very helpful..' She sighed, looking at her dress. That was when Thorn had the best idea, and Aubrey's head snapped up at him, her eyes widening almost twice their size, and she immediately squealed at the thought. "LAZER TAG? THAT"S SUCH A GOOD IDEA! LETS DO IT!" She said, getting a large smile and laugh from Thorn who had suggested it. They, hand in hand (as Aubrey had a fascination with holding hands with people), ran to the lazer tag that had been set up in a popular Dauntless fighting arena. It had been set up with many obstacles, defenses and interesting terrain. They were given high tech guns that shot lazers out. The lazers themselves emulated gunshots but to a much lesser extent. Instead of the pain of gunshots, it actually paralyzed that part of your body's nerve reactions. You could play it where the gunshots felt real, but for a party like this, they had gone for the paralysing instead. Thorn and Aubrey lined up, and were quickly put into a team of other people. "Let's team up, I bet we'd be a great team. I'll run in, you get the flag." She said, her eyes narrowing as she began to get more serious with Thorn. This sort of stuff was exactly the kind of stuff that helped her focus and get more sober. She held her gun tightly, and they hid on their side of the terrain as the countdown happened. That's when Aubrey had a bright idea. "Thorn, what if you give me your gun too? Then you are free to run better, and I can take down way more of them?" She watched as he thought about it, and maybe it was just Aubrey's thoughts, but it seemed like he was quite happy to give Aubrey the gun, and was enthusiastic to her idea. "I'll distract them. You run. Wait a few seconds later though." She whispered as the countdown stopped and people started to run out and shoot each other. They waited a few seconds before Aubrey nodded and leapt over one of the defenses, her nimble feet allowing her to jump over and easily get through the obstacles. Both guns in hand, she surprised the enemy by being able to shoot twice as much as normal. She saw Thorn running on the sides of the arena, and made sure to shoot anyone who was aiming at him. Her aim was good, not the best, but good, and many of them went down without a need for a second shot. She herself felt a few shots to herself, but she gritted her teeth as she continued on. One shot hit her in the thigh and she began to lose momentum, she continued though, a shot hit her in the gut and she felt her limbs lose strength. One arm was shot and she couldn't hold the gun, so it dropped from her hands. She felt her other leg get shot and she crumbled to her knees as she continued shooting, taking down twice as many of them as were taking her down. Her team was already uselessly down, she and Thorn seemingly the last in the team. Just as there was only two left in the other team, Aubrey having taken all of them out. That's when she saw Thorn with the flag almost back at their base. She yelled in excitement as she saw him, only to gasp as one of the two last enemy members aimed his gun at him. Aubrey didn't have the strength to leap up and take the "bullet", but she did have strength enough to shoot. She could see that she was being targeted by the other man, so she had limited time. She groaned as she felt the lazer shoot her neck, and she was only able to take one shot before she momentarily collapsed. Her shot was perfect though, as the lazer hit the boy straight in his hand, causing him to drop his gun. Thorn was free to run, and he did, Aubrey squealed in delight as he finally got back to their base and inserted the flag in their section. "YAHS THORN! WOOHOOO" Aubrey giggled as the game ended and their team's colour lit up the arena. She twitched and gasped as the paralyzing effect began to let go of her and she slowly got up, accepting Thorn's help as he assisted her with his arm. "That was so fun." Aubrey said as she clicked her neck and stretched out her limbs. "That was so good, we make a good team. That should be good for tonight." She said, her eyes meeting Thorn's as they both remembered the importanc of their mission today. They exited the arena together and Aubrey looked around, then at her phone to check the time. "We might be able to fit in a bit more before having to go, did you have anything you wanted to do? This was fun for me... but what do you like to do for fun?" She was enjoying learning more about Thorn, and wanted to find out what he enjoyed.

Interacting with: Thorn Sanctuaryforall1

 

[WanderLust.]

Blair Avalon // Female // Age 16 // Dauntless Born Initiate // Divergent
Interacting With: Ghost Aviator Christian & Charlie Nerdy. (Beck mentioned) spyder


Blair’s cheeks were flushed with color as she had became aware of the many pairs of eyes on her and her ‘injured’ ankle. Admittedly, she hadn’t meant for Charlie to get caught in the cross fires of her charade, however, the medic seemed to welcome the excuse to get away from the other VIPs. Blair breathed a sigh of relief when Charlie seemed to pick up on the fact that she was merely attempting to keep a few eyes occupied while her two blonde companions did the dirty work. Still, she kept up her act so at the very least she could maintain plausible deniability. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’m usually less of a clutz… it’s not often I have an excuse to wear heels” she smiled sheepishly, holding up the silver heels she had been wearing when she ‘stumbled’ into the security guard.



Although Blair’s eyes continued to scan for signs of her boyfriend or brother, she was becoming increasingly aware of Charlie’s nagging date. Quicker than she would’ve liked to admit, her sheepish smile turned into a scowl as she began chewing the inside of her cheek in annoyance. What a pain in the ass. Why would Charlie ever deign to give a guy like that the time of day? Certainly she could do much, much better. Around his third interruption, Blair lost her patience. “Actually - do you think you could get me some ice?” She asked the whiny male innocently. Blair did not actually need or want any ice, just an excuse to get Noah the hell away from her and Charlie. There was a sweet facade of a smile painted on her lips that screamed ‘screw you’ as she waited for Noah to leave, just in time for Charlie to ask if she was feeling better. “Much, thank you.” Blair shakily rose to her feet, not bothering to put her heels back on now that her ankle was bandaged. “When that guy comes back… maybe tell him to piss off?” Blair laughed softly, before winking at Charlie. She liked the medic, though didn’t necessarily approve of the company she chose to keep.



A flash of blonde hair caught her attention just in time, and Blair quietly excused herself as she headed towards Christian and Beck. She waved them down as she limped towards the pair, the flashing lights throwing various hues off of their collectively blonde heads. Just as she was about to ask them how the plan went, Blair’s path was crossed by a notably dark head of hair, the owner of whom she almost walked right into. He said her name in a tone that already had her questioning his sobriety, and sapphire eyes stared blankly at him as the drunken monologue continued. She would’ve thought his musings sweet if they had been under different circumstances. Her head even tilted in confusion as her fingers gently reached up to trace the lines of her own cheek bones, as if doubting her own beauty. Checking to see if her face had changed since the last time she had looked in a mirror, her fingers slowly ran down her blonde braid all the while her brows furrowed. Surely these were not the musings of a sober man, she shook her head as if having confirmed these thoughts to herself. Ghost did not and could not truly think these things of her.



Yet, as he admitted his desires to see her naked body, Blair could’ve sworn her heart stopped beating. She sucked in a sharp inhale of breath, her wits leaving her for a moment as her silver heels clattered to the floor, her grip having gone weak with shock. She couldn’t quite force her eyes to meet his as she blushed down at the floor. “Ghost” her tone was a warning as her eyes quickly darted to quite possibly the worst audience for this particular speech. She couldn’t believe her heart could beat any faster but it did, as her boyfriend and brother collectively tensed at Ghosts comment. Blair took a cautious step forward, placing herself in between the trio of males, shocked for once to see that Beck and Christian seemed to share an opinion at the moment - and that was that Ghost was over stepping his boundaries. “Your drunk.” she lowered her voice so that only Ghost could hear, pleading desperately with him to get the hell out of here before one of her blonde body guards snapped.



Was she truly only dismissing his comments because she doubted his sobriety? Perhaps it was much more deeply rooted than that. She was not a fool, she had felt the tension this morning when Ghost had examined her now hidden necklace of bruises. But surely that was just an instructors concern for his initiate. Charlie, Bloom or Maverick would’ve done the same. And though Blair knew she wasn’t ugly, she wouldn’t dare call herself beautiful. Not when she was competing amongst the likes of Charlie and Randi, both women whom she deemed drastically more beautiful than herself. She could sense that Christian was about to snap from the way his hands were balling into fists repeatedly, as if he were willing himself not to strike. She gently placed her hand on his chest, her eyes meeting his in a desperate plea, “He’s harmless, Christian, just intoxicated.” she soothed, her hand stroking his cheek gently before turning back to Ghost, who seemed blissfully unaware of the thin ice he was walking on.



Thankfully, His attention was soon drawn away by the cake held by her two companions, and Blair was quickly assured that his compliments had, in fact, simply been the alcohol inducing him to overly praise anything that even remotely appealed to him at the moment. Still, she could sense the unease in the air as Beck and Christian mutually glared daggers at the instructor. Blair’s prognosis of the situation quickly went from bad to worse as Ghosts sight shifted once again, this time to her younger brother. Her cheeks burned and she wanted to bury her face in her hands. What was he doing? Blair anxiously looked around for anything to rescue her from this increasingly awkward encounter. Upon Ghosts offering up of his cannabis pen, Blair quickly declined, shaking her head. “I don’t do that stuff.” Although she wouldn’t speak for her blonde companions.​

 

[Nerdy.]

Charlotte "Charlie" Stark || 20 || Medic || Dauntlessborn

Charlotte grimaced at Noah's incessant nagging for her to hurry up. She knew that she had to play nice with him, but she dearly wished she could just run away from him right now, and forever. If he weren't her only alibi for that night that Caspian had been murdered, then she wouldn't let him walk over her like this... When Blair finally found a good excuse for Noah to leave, Charlie had to keep her face away from Noah's gaze as she couldn't hide the smile that plastered itself on her gentle face, and she giggled softly as she heard Noah grumble in annoyance as he lazily but promptly walked away. Charlie smiled at Blair in thanks, and let out a soft sigh as Blair told her that she should tell Noah to go away. "I would if I could Blair." She said softly, and as she finished wrapping Blair's perfectly healthy ankle with the gauze, she sighed again sadly, hoping that maybe Noah would get so drunk he would forget that he had taken Charlie to the party. That would be nice, then she could escape even while she was keeping her end of the bargain. She finally sat back from Blair, standing up from her position and wiping down her beautiful satin gown she straightened herself out then nodded to Blair. "That should help. Try not to get hurt anymore." She laughed softly, before turning to the security guard who had finally finished the papers, and was grumbling about how frustrating that had been and how unnecessary it was, Charlie thanked him softly, advising he should get himself a drink to calm down, and watching as he agreed and waltzed off to do that. Charlie herself placed the paper in her bag, she didn't need the document he had filled in but she thought it might be useful for future use one day. She looked around, her eyes looking for Noah, who had not returned with any ice. She finally found him talking to a bartender, obviously distracted by the gorgeous girl that she was. Charlie smiled, as she stood in place, gazing around the room some more as she waited for Noah to come back, taking her time to sit down and enjoy her alone time.

It didn't take long before a genuine accident occurred and Charlie was called to come to the rescue. She heard Raven's voice ring out above the other voices in the bar and party, and her head whipped to where the voice came from, her body rising and making its way towards that voice. It didn't take her long to notice the two initiates together, Raven - who had called her and was watching her come - and Kirby - who was holding her head. Charlie's eyes narrowed, as she noticed the blood on Kirby's head, and could tell that there was genuinely an accident that had occurred this time, and not just a distraction or prank. "Thank you for calling me Raven." Charlie said as she neared the two girls, and she watched as Kirby seemed to wince at Charlie's voice, before concealing that and trying to act as if she were at least content with the medic being there. Charlie tried to think back through initiation to whether or not she had ever seen Kirby in the infirmary, and came to the conclusion that she had never seen her in there, nor had she done any medical procedure on her. She wondered if the wince was from a fear of medical procedures, or some other unknown reason for disliking her presence. She tried not to take it personally as she came closer to Kirby. "Can I have a look Kirby? I have a first aid kit with me, and I can assess how bad it is." She said, waiting for Kirby's rather reluctant nod before she stepped close and peered at the lightly bleeding cut that was on Kirby's brow. Although it wasn't bleeding much, it was a rather impressive bust for a head collision, and Charlie could imagine that Kirby's head was likely quite sore, as Raven's must have been as well, if that was whom she had collided with. The cut itself was enough to call for some simple stitches, nothing serious but also not just a scratch. "If you let me, I would like to do some simple stitches just to stop it from opening more, bleeding and getting infected. I can give you both some pain relief if you want as well." She waited for the permission of both girls before leading them to the table and chairs she had just been in, and asked them to sit down. She dug into her bag, firstly retrieving the pain medication and placing the correct amount in front of each girl, not wanting them to take too much, before she placed some gloves on and got out the equipment she needed to put the stitches in.

Of course, just as she was about to start the stitches, is when Noah decided to show up with the ice, a little late but Charlie directed him to give the ice pack to Raven, so that she could place it one her own head, which would likely bruise if the collision had been enough to cut Kirby's brow. She ignored anything Noah had to say, as her attention was hyper focused on Kirby's cut, and her hands precise in stitching it together aptly. She used as little stitching as possible, wanting it to heal more naturally and to not leave too much, if any, scarring. She then used a small pad soaked in a bit of alcoholic sanitizer to clean and sanitize the area and stop it from getting infected. "I'm sorry, that probably hurt. The pain meds should kick in though." She said as she finished and placed all the used items in a plastic bag, closing it and placing it back in her bag, and then throwing her gloves into a rubbish bin. "I would try to stay out of any physical activities for at least a day, neither of you seem to have a concussion but if you start feeling ill at all, or if you have any memory problems or feel dizzy, I want you to come find me or call me." She could tell by their faces that it was unlikely that she would hear from them, even if that happened. "At least... take care of yourselves if you start feeling worse." She said, hoping that they would at least take her advice, if not come to her directly. They nodded, thanking her. Charlie smiled, and may have stayed to talk to them if her date hadn't grabbed her, and whisked her away before she could even say goodbye. Thus Charlie was again at the mercy of her date, and she followed Noah begrudgingly, her arm tingling from his tight grip on her soft skin, the warmth and sweat of his hand feeling like bugs crawling on her skin. She felt a lump form in her throat at the feeling, being too reminiscent of Jeremy's grip, or Caspian's for that matter. She gritted her teeth together to stop herself from saying anything, simply allowing Noah to drag her like a child through the bar. Her eyes scanned the room in an attempt to find escape, even though she knew she couldn't. She thought she saw Aubrey running with Thorn, and then Ghost bumping into Blair, but each time she thought about yelling out to them, she was yanked hard enough to cause her to trip, and she had to focus on catching herself before she would fall. She silently prayed that another distraction would come so she could get away from Noah, but she had a dreadful feeling that none would come, and she would be trapped with him for the majority of the day.

Interacted with: Blair WanderLust. Raven a z u l a Kirby spyder
Interacting with: OPEN

Christian "Chris" Parks || 16 || Initiate || Dauntlessborn

Christian was equally flying as high as a kite, and sinking as low as a submarine. His emotions sailed above him like colourful balloons and he felt like he could see each one as if they were a different colour. The ones he could see most right in this moment were a golden balloon for his love and happiness to be with Blair right now, there was a pink one for his lust and desires for Blair, a small red balloon that was his anger towards Beck, and a funny grey one that was almost too small to even notice. There was even an orange one that blew up every time he heard someone laugh. He looked at the red velvet cake that sat on the cloche, and although he knew that it wasn't right, he thought it was perfect for Blair, and he almost forgot that the job was to bring back pieces, not the whole thing. Instead he just watched Blair look between him and Beck with a funny glance, and it only slowly dawned on him when Beck started to blame Christian for the whole thing. That's when the balloons started to change shape, and Christian's brows furrowed as the red balloon began to grow and shroud the other ones slightly. "Maybe if you weren't so pushy and argumentative then we could have done it smoothly in the first place." Christian said with unusual certainty, rather than his usual lethargic responses. He held Blair close to him, as if claiming her for his own, as a green balloon of jealousy blew up beside him, bridging a gap between him and Beck. But it seemed that an enmity with Blair's brother would have to wait, as a certain, familiar and unfortunate character decided to barge into this delightful interaction. Christian, Blair and Beckham all turned their heads as a very.... strange acting Ghost was talking to Blair, as if the two boys didn't exist, even though Christian was basically attached to Blair, and Beck was near enough to almost claim the same. At first Christian simply wished Ghost would go away because he was acting strange, but it turned very quickly into anger and deep jealousy, the red and green balloons now so big they mostly stayed in front of Christian's view. Christian would have stepped towards Ghost, especially when he began to talk about seeing Blair naked - something that was purely Christian's thing - but Blair stopped him for some reason. For the first time, and only the smallest amount, Chris felt a little anger towards her, but it quickly dissipated as she gave him her reasoning, proclaiming Ghost as drunk. Christian looked back over the short instructor, and he found Blair's diagnosis to be accurate. He growled under his breath "That doesn't mean he can say that. I should shut his mouth." Christian breathed out through his nose, clenching his fist tightly and grinding his teeth together in frustration as Ghost started to talk about the cake, something they had gotten for Blair.

Maybe it was a good thing that Ghost started to say things about Beckham, because as he did, Christian felt the anger and jealousy balloons deflate slightly, and the orange balloon of laughter and mirth begin to blow up. He giggled just a tiny bit, his fists unclenching and his body relaxing slightly as he saw Beck now stiffen as the Avalon boy became uncomfortable. Christian now felt a bit more in control, as all the balloons - his emotions - were floating equally in size and height. He was fairly amused, he was still slightly angry, he was in love with Blair, he was calm, he was slightly apathetic, he was mirthful... Thus, when Ghost offered whatever it was he was partaking of, Christian was able to decline with relevant ease and without anger or terrible desire for whatever it was. It was probably helpful that he'd just had a dosage of his own drug, which had left a very sharp sweet smell that followed him like a aura. He was glad Blair denied it, but he kind of hoped Beck would say yes and take some, because he wondered how Beck would react to it, having rather large disbelief to the young Avalon boy having ever tried it before. While Ghost offered it around, and delightfully embarrassed Beckham, Christian turned and decided that since they had the cake there, he might as well cut it and offer it to the four of them. He did so quickly, putting the pieces on paper towels and offering one to each person. He munched on his slowly, enjoying the flavour, as it mixed with the lull in his system and created an entirely new flavour he had never had before. He wasn't sure whether Ghost had said anything mroe, but he could tell that Blair was beginning to feel uncomfortable, and he leaned down to her level, whispering in her ear. "Do you want me to take Ghost away? He doesn't seem himself, and it might be better before either Beck or I hit him." He waited for her response, his eyes gazing deeply into her beautiful blue orbs, and suddenly he couldn't help himself. He didn't even wait for the answer that was on her open lips, he leaned in, hand on her jaw, and his lips connected with hers, as his desires for her won over in the moment. Something about kissing Blair deeply and passionately in front of Ghost and Beckham seemed wrong, yet so delightful in this moment. Blair was so shocked she didn't even try to stop him, at least not immediately, as this was so unlike Christian to do something like this. But he was not quite calmed down from their frisky touching they had been doing before Maverick, Beck and now Ghost had interrupted them. Christian finally pulled away with a cheeky soft smile, and Blair was blushing deeply. That was when Ghost opened his mouth again, and Christian rolled his eyes, stretching back up to his full height, towering over the smaller trainer and glaring down at him. "Please stop talking about my girlfriend Ghost. Your drunk. You're going to get in trouble. I advise you to go get sober." Christian said.

Christian didn't know what it was like to be drunk, but he did know what it was like to be high, so he understood the difficulty in determining what was real and what came from the high when it came to drugs. But what alcohol did to one's system? He had no idea. If he had ever been drunk in his life - which he was pretty sure he hadn't - he was told that the effect of that with his drugs and medication would be detrimental to his already failing health. So he stayed away from alcohol for that reason, and never even took a sip. It also meant he wasn't meant to take any drug that wasn't prescribed, but it was clear he struggled with that, now at least he had a steady supply of the neccessities. Ghost had been that necessity at one point, and now - at least to Christian himself - he was mostly useless. Ghost didn't like him, at least that's what Christian thought, and likely didn't give him a fair or accurate score in his fear simulations. Though Christian was almost always seen by Charlie anyway, so it didn't make much difference to him. He was riding pretty happy in the rankings, and wasn't worried much. When Ghost started rambling about something that Christian could hardly keep up with, the way he usually did, he began to imagine whether anyone would miss the guy if he suddenly disappeared, and he watched him talk with slight amusement. When Blair finally replied to his question that he had asked before, about taking Ghost away, and saying maybe that would be a good idea, with Beck agreeing quickly and enthusiastically, Christian sighed and stepped in front of both his girlfriend and her brother. "Come on Ghost, time to get moving." Ghost looked up at him, and Christian wondered if he were sizing him up, wanting to figure out whether he could take him on or not. "You would have to use your guns to overpower me Ghost, and I don't think you would do that at a public party. I wouldn't." Christian began to walk with Ghost, well... with wasn't quite the right word, he began to walk towards Ghost, and Ghost moved appropriately to not get stepped on by the lumbering blonde. Blair and Beckham scuttled off somewhere, and Christian suddenly realised he had made a crucial mistake. "Crap." He said, turning to watch as Beck stuck out his tongue, and then ran off with Blair. Christian watched, arms crossed against his chest. "What a bastard." He said, referring to Beckham. Completely ignoring the thought of "escorting" Ghost away now. He sighed loudly, all the balloons popping in his image as the red one ballooned with Beckham's face over it.

Interacting with: Blair WanderLust. Beckham spyder Ghost Aviator

 

[Aviator]

Ghost // Male // Age 18 // Training Instructor // Erudite to Dauntless
​

A spasm crossed Blair’s face, the corners of her eyes and mouth drooping as if small weights were attached to them. The expression seemed to make her face drip like it were made of pale wax, and Ghost yearned to mimic such a dramatic frown just to see what it would feel like. But he didn’t want Blair to think him a mimic, so he didn’t. Ghost was confident that he’d set a good example of himself yesterday when he had devised and directed the operation to interrogate Obadiah Parks, and it was vital that Blair maintain a good opinion of him. So vital, in fact, that little else seemed to matter at the moment. Ghost nodded very earnestly at Blair’s assessment of his altered consciousness. “Damn right I’m drunk. I’m also high. You name it, I’m on it!” His mouth stretched into that too-wide grin again. A bubble of giddiness rose in his chest as Ghost considered the extensive array of substances currently influencing his behavior that Blair didn’t know about.
Before he could say anything more on the subject, suddenly Christian was thrusting a folded-up paper towel at him, which Ghost hadn’t been expecting and for a heart-lurching beat nearly dropped. It took him a few moments to identify the sloppily-cut hunk of maroon and white as the red velvet cake that had captivated him so intensely, and even then he did so more by scent than by sight. Ghost had come to learn that, when he was high, his sense of smell could rival a bloodhound’s; if there was so much as a morsel of food in the same room as him, it wasn’t safe, rightful owner be damned. “Food!” he chirped happily, his empty stomach feeling like it was collapsing in on itself.
During the lowest, most destitute points of Ghost’s childhood, it hadn’t been uncommon for him to go to bed hungry. Food had been more of a privilege than a right, and not one that he had taken for granted. As such, Ghost presently tended to savor his meals, chewing slowly and tasting deeply, as if to make up for all of that which he had once been denied. But not this time. To say the choppy slice of cake was gone in a matter of seconds would have been generous. Not caring about the unavailability of utensils, Ghost opened his jaw so wide that it was a small wonder it didn’t unhinge and downed the cake in one colossal bite, feeling it bulge against his esophagus the whole way. It was only due to this swift disappearance of the cake that Ghost glanced up as soon as he did, blinking in search of novel stimuli, just in time to see Blair and Christian exchanging words with their heads ducked close together in conspiracy. Snatches of derogatory conversation struck his ears like sour notes, but before Ghost could fashion an unsolicited reply, Christian enveloped Blair in an embrace and kissed her full on the lips.
Ghost wasn’t sure whether the kiss really did last the better part of a minute, or if the marijuana was altering his perception of time so that it only seemed ridiculously long. Whatever the case, something inside him changed as he mutely watched the kiss, unsure if he was powerless to intervene or just unwilling to as his heart shuddered and shriveled into a dry, withered husk. The blight grew in his middle and slowly spread to his extremities until he was cloaked in cold. He blinked furiously until the sunlight and sky melded with the neon lights of the advancing parade floats and everything was dyed red.
He was just about to turn and slink away when Christian broke off the kiss and addressed him venomously. Ghost flashed from cold to hot in an instant. “I don’t talk about people, Christian. I talk to them,” he retorted petulantly. The difference in prepositions might have seemed minute had he been sober, but intoxicated it was crucial. “I don’t go crying to my father for petty revenge whenever someone else outsmarts me. I confront the person and solve the problem on my own, or I don’t, and then I have only myself to blame.” One corner of his lip pulled upward, and he punctuated the gibe with a sneer. His heart was hammering so hard he could feel it resonating in throbbing blasts in his temples.
To Ghost’s chagrin, Christian either hadn’t heard his insults over the pounding bass, or he was too attuned to Blair to pay them proper attention, because his expression didn’t shift as he impassively regarded Ghost. With slow, deliberate motions, Christian stepped in front of Blair and her brother, forming an impregnable wall of human flesh between them and Ghost. Ghost bristled at the crass dismissal issued to him by an initiate. “Oh yeah, is that a fucking challenge? You think I won’t draw a weapon on your oafish ass, Parks? Then clearly you don’t know me at all, goddammit, just try me!” he blustered, suddenly and unreasonably aggressive yet unable to pinpoint the exact source of his anger.
Ghost had just started to reach for his belt and make good on his promise before remembering that he wasn’t carrying his Wicked Sisters on his belt after all, because without his overcoat to conceal them they would have been distastefully visible to Sasha Stark and any socialites he might have encountered at Daniels’s party. Yet at that moment, Christian whirled around to watch as Buck seized Blair by the wrist and took off with her. Ghost immediately flinched, recoiling so quickly and wholly that he stumbled back and took an involuntary seat on the ground. There he shivered, unable to detach the image of Drex winding up for a swing from behind his closed eyes. He had been so ice-cold certain that Christian had been about to cuff him across the face and his nose would break and dots of blood would pattern the ground. Seconds passed. Ghost gripped the ground with claw-like hands, tendons protruding. The world would not stop spinning, and somehow he was experiencing the worst motion sickness of his life while staying perfectly still. “Son of a bitch,” he cursed quietly, managing to peel one eyelid open.
Chris stood over him like the Devil eager to snatch up a poor sinner’s soul. With a monumental effort, Ghost forced his heaving breaths to level off. “I fully agree with that analysis,” he sniped, the opportunity to taunt Christian providing a welcome distraction. “You are indeed a bastard.” But Ghost was aware that Christian’s absentminded mutter had been directed at Blair’s brother, and so his reply lacked any real heat; he was still too physically and mentally spent for that. With an incriminating level of concentration, Ghost gathered his feet under himself and stood, wobbling slightly. The effort left him panting, and while he was catching his breath, he racked his brain for what it was that he’d sought out Blair, Buck, and Christian for in the first place. Since he barely knew Buck’s name, Ghost deduced that his original intent had had little to nothing to do with Blair’s brother. In the wake of his forced separation from Blair, Ghost felt a vaguely glum twinge of emptiness. He rubbed his head as if he could reshuffle his thoughts and be dealt a better hand.
“I’m sorry,” he said at last, just as Christian had started to turn away, presumably in pursuit of Blair and Buck. “Not for any of my comments to you today—no. But for how I reacted to you previously, when you wanted more lull and I wouldn’t give it to you, until I did.” Ghost winced at his own drastically downplayed reiteration of events. “I can’t blame you for getting hooked and resorting to desperate measures. Not when it’s my fault you got hooked in the first place. And I can try to justify it by saying that I really needed the money—which I did—but I was wrong to get it by gambling with your life.” Nerves crowded Ghost’s throat, and he was forced to look away. “I don’t expect you to accept my apology. Certainly not now, and perhaps not ever. But if there’s anything I can do to earn even part of your forgiveness…” he trailed off, not very hopeful. He risked a glance up at Christian, whose eyes were glittering hard and flat like chips of lapis. “Screw sobriety,” Ghost grumbled to himself, taking yet another pull of his cannabis pen.

 

[WanderLust.]

Maverick Maddox // Male// 18// Dauntless Born // Instructor
Interacting With: Randi Sanctuaryforall1

Maverick had never wanted to kiss Randi more than he did in that current moment. It dawned on him that despite being close friends since childhood, in all the adventures and misadventures alike that they had galivanted on together, Maverick had never once felt the tender, soft kiss of Randi’s lips. And as much as his body warred with him on the decision, Maverick refused to allow his first kiss with the astonishing blonde before him to occur in a dark and dingy alley as he held her bleeding hand. Ah yes, her hand. In Randi’s earlier outburst she had managed to scrape the skin of her knuckles quite badly on the brick wall to their right, he was still coddling her hand in his own, her blood staining them both crimson. A playful smirk touched Maverick’s lips as Randi commented that their current situation reminded her of one of the ‘stupid’ romance movies Freight had always been so fond of. “Come on, They’re not so bad.” His grey eyes met hers for a moment with a mischievous glint as he pondered her words, “I always liked the one about the guy who could time travel.” He shrugged nonchalantly before his attention turned back to her bleeding hand.

“We should get this wrapped up, I have bandages back at the training center… if you feel like taking a walk?” He offered. Randi gave him look, as if to say she didn’t need any bandages, but Maverick returned her defiant look with one of his own. Randi had a nasty little habit of believing herself to be invincible, and Maverick would not be stepping down so easily on this one. “Come on, before you get blood all over my shirt.” He teased, looking down at his grey t-shirt. It had finally dried off from whatever green liquid Vex had spilled on him earlier. Randi finally conceded to join him as the pair began walking towards the training complex. Once again, Maverick was subjected to fighting his own wills. He so desperately wanted to take Randi’s hand in his own, to show off to the rest of dauntless that he was walking with such a beautiful girl. But his hands stayed at his sides. As much as he wanted to, a relationship between an initiate and an instructor was still strictly forbidden. He didn’t want to risk getting Randi in trouble over his own selfish desires.

They made it to Charlie’s first-aid area fairly quickly, exchanging sweet memories from their childhood along the way. It was easy to talk to Randi, effortless almost. After all, he had been talking to her his whole life. She was practically as much a part of his family as any other Maddox. As he slowly began bandaging her right hand, he was reminded of a time when Randi had done a very similar thing for him many years ago. Maverick had wound up at Randi’s house after a particularly nasty beating from his father. She had patched up a few of his cuts, given him ice for his black and purple eye…. Maverick had fallen asleep on the floor next to Randi’s bed that night, too afraid to go home and face his father. They were well versed in taking care of each other’s wounds, it was practically second nature at this point. So it was no surprise that, as Maverick was finishing bandaging her hand, his eyes strayed up and he found himself getting lost in those emerald green eyes, so much so that he must’ve wrapped the bandage absentmindedly around her knuckles five times too many. He shook his head when he realized, heat rising to his cheeks as he quickly unwound the bandage and tied it off. “Sorry, got distracted.” He admitted with a smirk.

It dawned on him that, here at the training compound, they weren’t too far from the river. Randi had mentioned what a beautiful night it was. The air was warm and a summer breeze danced in the air. “Do you… maybe want to go for a swim?” He suggested, unsure of how she would respond. It hadn’t occurred to Maverick yet that neither of them had swimming suits. He had posed the question much more innocently. He had always liked swimming, and even if they didn’t swim, it would still be nice to get away from the crowds and listen to the sounds of the water. Thankfully, Randi seemed agreeable to the idea and before long the pair was off again, this time, headed towards the river near the edge of the dauntless compound. There wasn’t a soul around as they approached the running water. No sounds except for the river and the peaceful sounds of night. Maverick began tugging his shirt off over his head, and kicking his shoes off near the shoreline. They had gone to a spot where the water was relatively calm, nothing like the rapids farther down near the chasm. It was only when he reached for the button of his pants that he realized he would very likely be swimming in his boxers, not that that bothered him. He just didn’t want Randi to think his only motivation in going swimming was getting her clothes off. He knew he didn’t have the greatest reputation when it came to his playboy status. He was about to turn back towards Randi, to see what her plans were for their nighttime swim, when his foot made contact with something solid, a soft thud in the rocks alerting him that he had run into something.

Immediately, he looked down to see a manilla covered folder, a few papers peeking out from the edges. Maverick’s brows furrowed as he bent down to retrieve the folder, the thing was soaked, as if someone had attempted to drown it in the river but failed. Most of its contents were falling apart, water logged, the ink of hand written notes blurred mostly beyond recognition. What stood out to Maverick however, was a collection of photographs paperclipped to the edge of the folder. The first face that stared back at him unsettlingly recognizable as Blair Avalon. The picture showed her side profile, as she walked towards a street whose name Maverick did not recognize. Blair wasn’t looking at the camera. Whoever had taken this picture had not been spotted. Maverick doubted Blair even had any idea the photo was taken. “Hey Randi…” He called her over, the suspicion and overarching concern clear in his voice as he continued leafing through the photos. “You might want to look at this.” He stiffened as the next photograph was revealed, and he held it out towards his companion. Yet another blonde female initiate was pictured… only this time it wasn’t Blair, it was Randi.​

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Randi

Mood: Concerned

Location: River

Interactions: Mav

The journey to Charlie’s first-aid station had been a pleasant one as the duo walked side by side. Randi couldn’t help but internally roll her eyes at herself as she acknowledged the rapid turn of events from the bar bathroom to now. Mere moments ago, she had been so pissed off at Mav, so hurt by him, that she had smashed her fist into a brick wall without hesitation. Now she was walking side by side with him, a smile on her face and her hands fiddling with her necklace so she could resist reaching out to hold his. As they walked and talked it was just as easy as it had always been, ever since they were little being around Mav had been as easy as breathing. It amazed her that after all these years, after all the time apart, after all the other people, it was still so incredibly easy to exist with the younger Maddox boy. That was something Randi felt with very few people, those being Mav, Freight, Poppy, Blair, and now as of recently Cas. The blonde was always honest and genuine with others which meant she lived her life usually being seen as a shameless bitch but with her chosen people she knew they saw things differently because they knew that she was always just genuinely Randi, and she didn’t need to pretend to be anything more.

There were other reasons of course that she was so comfortable with Mav. The two of them had spent the majority of their early lives together. Almost every day they galivanted around the streets of Dauntless causing trouble, acting stupid, being kids, and having fun. While the two walked down the crowded streets they laughed over old stories and she fondly recalled the day she and Mav built a great pillow fort and went to war with Freight. The stories caused her to laugh so hard that she winced a bit from her still-healing stomach wound.

It wasn’t lost on her that yet again Mav was patching her up. They had done that for each other all their lives as well. From bumps to scrapes to bleeding gashes Mav and Randi had seen it all on one another and made it better. Just a day or two ago she and Mav had been in Charlie’s first-aid room as they were now, and Mav had been redressing her wound after she bled through the bandages. Now the two of them were staring into each other’s eyes as Mav wrapped more gauze around her knuckles. She was so consumed by his stormy gaze that she didn’t even realize he had overwrapped her knuckles until she tried to bend them and found it a bit more difficult than expected. Glancing down her lips parted into a smile as she laughed at the sight of her overly tended to fist. “Distracted, eh?” She replied to Mav as he apologized with a smirk. “And here I thought you were just being overly cautious.” She jested and gently nudged him.

At the mention of a swim, Randi didn’t even bother to hesitate before agreeing to go. She may be a girl on fire but she still loved going for a dip in the cool water of the river. “Yeah, that sounds like a really good idea actually.” She agreed with an eager nod of her blonde head. She didn’t really care about the fact that she was lacking in a real bathing suit since she still had on a bra and underwear which could work as a stand-in bikini in a pinch. She knew that if the two of them were found swimming around half-naked it could end badly, but truthfully the young initiate didn’t care at this point. As far as she was concerned a simple swim with an old friend wasn’t as big a deal as the higher-ups would make it out to be and she would tell them that to their faces if Mav and she were to be caught. Yes, there was more brewing between the two of them, but no one else knew that and no one else needed to know it until the two of them figure things out.

As they reached the river she began to undo her shoes on one of the rocks and glanced over at Mav just in time to see him taking off his shirt. Letting out a whistle to inform him she was enjoying the show Randi chuckled and awaited his response but it seemed his attention had fallen elsewhere. She stood up from the large rock she had been leaning on and walked over to see the manilla folder in Mav’s hand. “What is that?” She inquired and looked around to see a few more along the shore. Her attention was snapped back to Mav when she heard his concerned voice call her name and tell her to look at the papers he was holding. She had no way of guessing what they would be but the last thing she had expected was a picture of her walking out of Freight’s store. By the way the picture was taken it was clear she hadn’t been aware that anyone was there, let alone taking pictures of her. “What the hell?” She frowned as her brow furrowed in concern. “Is someone stalking me?” Instantly her internal hackles rose at the idea that some creep out there was following her around with a camera and she hadn’t even known. “What else is there Mav?” She asked as her jade gaze looked up at her companion and she shifted to get a better look at the file he was holding. “Is that Blair? Is some creep stalking the girls from the initiate program?”

WanderLust.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Vex

Mood: Seductive

Location: Party

Interactions: Ghost

The flashing colors, strong scents, large crowds, all of this was enough to confuse most predators but then again Vex wasn’t like most predators. She had been trained to adapt to her surroundings and did so with a natural elegance that often left those who created her patting themselves on the back. She was able to switch roles and adapt to any scene she was put in without missing a beat and while remaining completely convincing. On the rare occasion, she did have someone catch onto her that person seldom lived to see the light of day. When she was still in her testing stages she could remember the bodyguard of one of her targets had gotten wise during her observation of the target at a club. The poor fool made the mistake of pursuing her into a crowded dancefloor where lights were poor, and no one could make out any sounds other than the throbbing rave music. She made the bodyguard believe he was onto her until she knew he had made his way in too deep; he couldn’t escape her if he tried and oh boy did he try. The moment she turned around in the crowd and begin making her way towards him the old fool knew he had fallen in too deep. Despite his best efforts, the man was unable to cut his way through the crowd before her knife was cutting its way into his chest over and over again. He died on that dance floor and her true target died moments later with his bodyguard nowhere to be seen.

The walk down memory lane gave Vex a rush as she moved through the crowds with her eyes scanning the area for her target. It took a while and she had to of course mingle and interact to look natural and like she belonged but finally her eyes settled on the man she was looking for. Ghost was off to the side with what looked to be Christian and as Vex studied them she could tell they both seemed to be going through some dangerous emotions. It didn’t take a mind reader to tell that Chris had a great dislike of Ghost just as it didn’t take a genius to tell that Ghost was clearly under the influence of likely more than just alcohol. The way he moved, held himself, the slight delay to his reactions and the lull in his gaze pointed to the idea that some sort of drugs was involved with his drinking. This was confirmed when her whiskey brown eyes spotted a pen being drawn from his pocket that he seemed to hit rather quickly upon Chris’s departure.

Taking that as her queue to approach her prey Vex made her way over towards the instructor and gently trailed her skilled fingers over one of his shoulders and then the other which quickly grabbed his attention. She looked at him through thick lashes and smirked slightly as she took a step closer to him. “Seems like you are without a dance partner.” She stated casually and held out her hand to him. If he was smart, he would take it and realize she was allowing him to go about this the easy way. If he wasn’t so smart, she had no issue making things more difficult for him. “Come on, never keep a pretty girl waiting.” She insisted and it seemed to be the convincing he needed as he took her hand and the two made their way to a more private part of the dance floor. “I believe you and I need to have a conversation.” She informed him as her perfectly trained body moved in rhythm to the music. “And by the end of it, I hope you can see it will be beneficial to the both of us.”

Aviator

code by Stardust Galaxy

 

[Nerdy.]

Griffon Mordo || 17 16 || Initiate || Abnegation Transfer

Griffon was greatly enjoying his time with Fable and Anne. Anne was adorable and had not adapted yet to Dauntless life, to be fair she hadn't adapted to Abnegation life either, and that always made for an interesting and fun time. Griffon had always been greatly curious about Anne, she had turned up in the orphanage out of nowhere, assumedly factionless. Griffon hadn't been in the orphanage when she was there, but he had been volunteering there, as he was grateful for all the love they had shown him before he had been adopted. Most of the children in Abnegation were either children whom parents had died, from Abnegation, or children from factionless. Abnegation always took it as their duty to look after the factionless, and although those who did not have a faction were not allowed to be integrated into Abnegation, those who were under the age of 16 were allowed to, since they had never gone through any initiation, and so had never truly had a chance to try in a faction. Griffon knew that he had come from factionless, and he was terribly grateful to have ended up in that orphanage, and then in the Mordo house, and then in Dauntless. Anne had not opened up to anyone about her life before the orphanage, all that Griffon could surmise is that she had been factionless, and that she was not suited for Abnegation. She hadn't been adopted before her aptitude test, but even so Griffon had made a lot of time to get to know her, he had assisted in helping her learn sign language, he had tried to coax words out of her whenever it was right to do so. So he felt very protective over Anne, similarly to how he felt towards Fable and Cassidy. All three of these girls were like his younger sisters. Cassidy was the brave, independent, fearless, wise and perceptive sister from his past. Fable was his kind, enduring, perservering, strong and just adopted sister from Abnegation. And Anne was like his sweet, curious, wide-eyed, feisty, exciting and clingy sister-like friend from the orphanage. He loved all of them the same, and yet very differently. They were all close to him and he felt very protective, and very close to them.

After eating, and some small talk between himself, Fable and Anne, they all decided to take a walk throughout the different areas of the party, as Anne was finding them very interesting and exciting. There were many people, there was dancing, there was laughing, there was a lot of drinking, and there were a lot of familiar faces. He only recognized the initiates and trainers, of which he saw only a few, but even so that seemed a lot to his mind. They had been walking for a little while when Fable seemed distracted by something, and Griffon watched as her eyes watched a familiar figure, Christian, walking towards the door. She followed him with her eyes, before touching Griffon gently on the shoulder and alerting him that she wanted to go say hi to Christian, and would see him sometime later in the day. Griffon smiled and said goodbye, watching as she walked after Christian. He was curious to what she was going to talk to Christian about, but not so curious that he wanted to ask or follow, instead he turned back to Anne, only to find she had gone off by herself, seemingly fine to do so. Griffon smiled warmly as he watched her happily dancing on the dance floor with a couple of other initiates that she (from his assumption) had become a little close with. He decided he would just stand and wait for her, having nothing else to do currently. At least that's what he thought he would do, until his gaze fell upon a certain familiar, beautiful trainer popped into his view, having just precariously jumped down from a certain bull head on a club, having balance a bar stool on one of the horns. Griffon was amazed at her ability, and given that both Fable and Anne were now preoccupied, he decided to go talk to Bloom. Maybe she desired company, she looked like she was looking for someone.

"Hello Bloom. That was really amazing!" Griffon said in greeting, watching as Bloom turned to him, always a smile on her face. She laughed, then began to talk about how it was from a game of truth or dare, something Griffon had never heard of. Bloom must have noticed his blank stare and the fact he hadn't reacted to that, and she explained what it was, causing Griffon to think about it. "I don't think I'd be very good at it, I don't have enough memory to be able to answer truths. I guess I would just have to do dares, or people would have to ask me boring truths." He shrugged, he watched as Bloom's eyes seemed to twinkle, something he had noticed before. She had such a beautiful presence and her expressions always seemed kind and caring. He felt very comfortable with her, and he wondered if Cassidy would mind if Bloom knew about the fact that Griffon and Cassidy were siblings. He'd have to ask Cassidy, although he suspected she would say no out of habit. Maybe it wasn't habit... he didn't know her habits, he didn't really know much about her, his only blood relative that he had contact with was someone whom he only had choppy memories with. He felt a pang in his heart as he thought about that. That's when an idea popped into his head. "Bloom, I would like to know whether this is something allowed in Dauntless... I told you about my memory problems, and how the simulations seem to dig into memories I can't access naturally. What I would like to know is if it is allowed for us to have simulation sessions privately? Obviously I wouldn't want it to affect my scores, but I wish I knew more about my past, and it is the only thing that had worked in my life to help me re-access these memories. Would that be allowed? I wouldn't want to do it if it isn't." He stood there waiting for an answer from Bloom, he trusted her and hoped that she would be able to do this with him.

Interacting with: Fable, Bloom Sanctuaryforall1 Anne spyder

Christian "Chris" Parks || 16 || Initiate || Dauntlessborn

Christian's eyes bore down on Ghost like daggers, and if Ghost wasn't his trainer, if Ghost wasn't important, Christian might have just hit him there and then. However, unlike his anger when not under the influence of any drug, with the lull in his system, he was easily able to control anger and think more logically than usual. That was why he didn't hit Ghost, and he was grateful for it in one sense, and ungrateful in another. Ghost deserved it, but Christian knew he shouldn't. That didn't mean he wasn't thinking about it though, and thus there was visible anger pulsing through him, giving his veins an almost ugly protruding look. To those who might have been watching, if they were to look closely at him, they would have noticed how frustratingly difficult it was for Christian to slowly and meticulously released the tension in each muscle, slowly easing into a less threatening and angry state. Instead it stayed in his face and jaw, as his jaw was set firmly and his eyes glared at Ghost with hatred. That's why it took him so much by surprise when Ghost said those words. I'm sorry. Christian blinked in confusion and was ready to ask Ghost to clarify, seeing no reason to why the older male was saying such a thing, but it seemed Ghost was ready with an answer anyway. Christian listened intently as Ghost continued on saying that he was sorry for what he had done to Christian, taking responsibility for how Christian had got hooked, and genuinely apologizing and saying he was in the wrong. Christian didn't know whether to believe him at first, but it didn't take long for the blonde male to understand the honesty in Ghost's words. Ghost was proud and the top of the food chain (from Ghost's perspective, Christian surmised this), so there was no way he would say this unless it was true. He took a few breaths, finally closing his eyes as he listened to Ghost take a large inhale of his pen, and he opened them. "Thank you. I... appreciate the honesty." Christian said, finding it difficult to answer any differently. Ghost was right, Christian couldn't forgive him, not yet. But Christian could find it in his heart to thank him, because he was thankful that Ghost had been honest and had genuinely apologized. As Christian watched Ghost, he could see the fog of the pen seem to wash over him and that's when Christian decided it was best to leave. "Again, thank you. Try not to take too much of that, I doubt it will help you anymore than it already has." Christian said, decided that Ghost deserved some thought and care. "Take care, Ghost." Christian said with little to no empathy, before he turned and began to leave.

Christian sighed, his mind staying on that conversation a bit more. Ghost had screwed up his life, Christian had been likely to rise high in Dauntless, he was going to live a long bountiful life with his eventual wife, Blair. Now he had a timeline, a much much shorter timeframe. He was going to die, before he could do much with his life. Ghost was too though, and Christian - although he was not an empathetical person - could empathize with him, realizing that many of Ghost's mannerism could likely come from this worldview. He felt sad for him. He used to feel angry, but now, he felt he could move on and simply have no emotion to him. Though... there was a tiny part of him that was eternally grateful to Ghost for introducing him to Lull, as because of that he was able to feel emotions other than anger. He wasn't dulled to a walking broomstick (like he was under other medication) and he wasn't a complete rage monster. He had some semblance of normalcy. That was something to be grateful for. Thus his posture changed as he walked, becoming more relaxed. That was until he remembered that Beck had stolen Blair away. He sighed deeply under his breath, deciding he had no choice except to go look for Blair. He had planned to spend the whole day with her, and now he couldn't. However... he hadn't expected on seeing another person whom sparked into his view just then, and Christian stopped, stormy blue eyes gazing down at Fable Mordo, who stood in front of him. The simple image of her standing there, red hair cascading over her shoulders, and her frame standing almost shyly in front of him, Christian relaxed, deciding he could look for Blair later, or wait for her to come to him. Plus, he had told Fable that she could be with him today if she needed. He was glad she had taken him seriously.

They said hi awkwardly, both of them not quite sure what they were going to do, Christian looked around, before his eyes fell back onto the mismatched eyes of Fable in front of him. "Would you like to dance?" Christian asked slowly, each word coming out a bit chunky and strange. He watched as Fable seemed surprised? Happy? Shy? Eventually though he watched as she accepted, and he extended a hand, watching as she slowly reached out and put her hand in his. Christian was surprised at how cold her hand was, and he couldn't be sure but it had felt like it was shaking when she had put her hand in his. He hoped he wasn't making her nervous, he just felt like she needed a friend to be with right now. His large calloused but gentle hand enveloped around Fable's and he began to bring her into the dance floor with him. Once they were there, he stepped closer to Fable and gently, allowing her time to tell him it was too close or that she had changed her mind, began to put his other hand on her waist. If she didn't like it, she hadn't voiced this to him yet, and instead they began to dance to the music. Christian wasn't terrible at dancing, he had been given many lessons by his sisters and brothers, and so he was well-versed in different types of dancing. Right now the song was a bit slower, easier to have a conversation, easier to become acquainted with the person you were dancing with. Christian enjoyed this type of dance, at least he enjoyed it when he liked the person he was dancing with, and he definitely liked Fable. As opposed to when he used to dance with Indira, who he did not like. As they danced, Christian was trying to think of something to say to Fable, coming to a mind blank as he did so. His mind was still filled up with the memory of Ghost apologizing, Blair not being with him right now, being happy Fable was here and the warm feeling of lull in his chest. Thus, when Fable had said something, Christian only realized a bit too late, as his mind caught up with his ears. He blushed slightly, realizing he had no idea what Fable had just said. "Sorry, my mind is everywhere right now, I didn't hear you. Could you repeat that?" He said, waiting politely for Fable, as they continued to dance to the music. Before she could answer though, he felt guilty the minute he said he hadn't heard her, because that seemed to imply that he didn't want to be with her, or that she wasn't getting his full attention. "Sorry, let me explain. I just had a strange interaction with Ghost, Blair and Beck... Beck sort of ran off with Blair because he seems to think I'm dangerous, and then Ghost wanted to apologize to me of all things... I should have been focusing on you, because I really did want to spend time with you just now. I hope you don't think I'm an ass for that... I'll try to only think of you just now." He said, his hands twitching slightly, gripping Fable slightly harder in reference to his words, out of impulse, and then quickly relaxed them again, a nervous habit from his past. His eyes continued to gaze into Fable's, waiting for her to answer him, either to repeat her question or to fairly get annoyed and leave.

Interacting with: Ghost Aviator Fable Sanctuaryforall1

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Fable

Mood: Concerned

Location: Party

Interactions: Chris

She felt a bit guilty leaving Griffon for another but deep down she knew he truly didn’t mind and would have a wonderful time with Anne or one of his other friends for the time she was away from him. Normally she would have stuck by him for longer but seeing Chris reminded the redhead that she had been invited to join the young dauntless-born male and his friends earlier that day. She was genuinely curious about Chris and wanted to take him up on the offer to hang out though she had to admit she was surprised to see him alone. From what she had seen during the majority of initiation so far Chris almost always came with Blair attached at the hip, but it seemed lately the pair were separated more often than not. Fable could tell how deeply the young man felt for his girlfriend and truly hoped that there was no growing trouble between the couple as she believed something like that would hurt Chris dearly and she had begun to think of him as a friend.

Cutting her way through the crowd Fable managed to make her way over to the blonde right as he was turning in her direction. He seemed surprised to see her at first and then his eyes wandered around the room and for a moment she feared she had mistaken the invitation earlier as mere politeness and not genuine but she did her best to smile and see where the conversation would take them. She had been through a lot the past few days and managing a smile was hard but as Chris greeted her it became easier to make it a bit more genuine. Upon hearing his offer to dance Fable paused and wasn’t sure if she should say yes or not. She had danced before but worried her current mindset would leave her with two left feet and she ducked her head slightly. After a second of considering it she nodded her head, “Yeah,” She agreed. “I’d love to.”

With her hand shaking a bit more than she would have liked Fable placed her hand in Chris’s and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. She hated that she had become a trembling flower but the weight of her sins was draining her despite her best efforts to ignore it. Eventually, she would have to face her demons and conquer them, or else she would crumble completely. What she had done to Dante was to save Ghost and Blair, she took a life to save two, but still, the guilt ate at her. Blinking a few times she gently almost microscopically shook her head in an effort to clear it as Chris led her to the dance floor and slowly put his hand on her waist. It had been a while since she had danced but the muscle memory luckily didn’t fail her as the music played and the duo began their slow dance. Wanting to seem as normal as possible Fable looked up at Chris with her mismatched eyes and blinked a few times. His smell sparked a warmth within her that reminded her almost of the sensation of warming yourself by the fire just before it gets too hot. The music was like a sweet sage green and soft blue melody playing through her mind and in this moment she felt at ease like she had when she was hugging Griffon. “Do you listen to stuff like this or do you have a different taste in music?” She inquired as she attempted to spark casual conversation. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Chris wasn’t paying attention when his eyes didn’t shift back to her and he seemed lost in another world entirely. Gently Fable chewed at the inside of her cheek in slight embarrassment as her words seemed to pass right through her dance partner. She couldn’t blame him though as she had ambushed him when he clearly had other things to worry about.

A few heartbeats later Chris seemed to realize he had missed something and apologized while asking her to repeat the question. She nodded in understanding and was about to forgive him and repeat her rather silly question when he cut in and explained where his mind had been. Instantly she knew she couldn’t blame him for having mentally been off elsewhere. She could get like that when she was worrying about Griffon or Dante. Instantly the thought of the young man made her feel as though she might be sick and she did her best to push the feeling and the memories that accompanied it out of her mind. “I get it.” She replied with a nod. “If you want we don’t need to dance or hang out.” She offered as she didn’t want to burden Chris. “If you are worried about Blair or want to catch up with her I don’t mind helping you find her.” The fiery-haired girl offered as Chris’s grip on her hand became tight before loosening again and she was instantly curious as well as worried. “Are you okay?” She asked with a concerned frown.

Nerdy.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Thorn

Mood: Interested

Location: Party

Interactions: Aubrey

Thorn was both relieved and worried as Aubrey began to bounce around like her normal self. The twisting and colliding emotions left his stomach in knots as he watched the blonde bounce around and babble as they walked and ate their fried chocolate bars. It was normal for people to try to push past something like a panic attack, to try not to face what had happened, and that was fine so long as eventually, they got help. He didn’t want to be the one to shove that down Aubrey’s throat though especially when he knew he wasn’t the poster child of asking for help in any way possible. He just wanted to know that Aubrey would be okay if he wasn’t around. Sure she could put almost anyone around them on their ass and she had a quick mind and wit but emotional battles could be tiring and were unfortunately something Dauntless-born initiates struggled with. In a faction that praised bravery, it was shameful to admit to having mental struggles that could lead to moments that might appear weak. In his eyes, however, he viewed the mental battles to be important in so many ways. He did not support violence but he also knew that one can never truly be strong enough to fight another if they aren’t strong enough to fight their own demons. At least, that is how his reality felt. Physically he could likely rip a log in half but he was still too weak to face the demons who had been haunting him since the moment of his birth. Aubrey deserved better than that because she was stronger than him in so many ways, both Aubrey and Charlie deserved to live lives unburdened by the horrors and pressures they felt every day and Thorn just wished he could take on some of the weight of those burdens to help the sisters out.

Carefully eating his fried chocolate bar the young freckled boy was amazed to see how quickly Aubrey had managed to down hers. It was as hot as lava when he first bit into it and he could still feel the fuzzy sensation of a burn on his tastebuds from the brief contact they had made with the melted chocolate. After that, he made sure to give the inside time to cool between each bit. How Aubrey had managed to down hers with such ease was beyond him but he couldn’t help but smile at the joy it seemed to bring her. His mind was still making its way through all the things she had told him on the way to the chocolate bar stand and one thing kept making him internally frown. It was the way Aubrey had spoken down on herself in regards to Finn, their kiss, and how he doesn’t come around anymore. In the moment he had wanted to assure her that he doubted that was true and perhaps Finn might have something going on that he just hasn’t told Aubrey about but in reality, Thorn knew she would likely never believe him. Still, he hated to hear her put herself down like that and wished with all his heart that he could prove her wrong without trying to sound like a perv. Aubrey was a beautiful and talented girl, he had no doubt she was likely an amazing kisser and it didn’t say much about Finn’s character if he decided to ice her out over a kiss even if she didn’t do the best at it. There’s so much more to a person…to Aubrey, than just her ability to kiss. He sighed and internally shook his head.

Hearing her talk about how she wished she had dressed differently so she could participate in a fight caused Thorn’s mind to race. He didn’t want to get involved in any sort of real fights or violence but he did want to find a way to cheer Aubrey up and was okay bending his beliefs slightly to do so. Or at least that is the determination he came to upon spotting a Lazer Tag arena that had been set up for the day. “Well, what about Lazer Tag? Might be easier to shoot in a dress than really fight?” He suggested with a smile. The idea seemed to be a major winner as Aubrey began to shout in excitement with a massive smile plastered to her face. He was so glad she had gotten water and food in her as it seemed to have given her renewed energy that she would certainly need for this game as well as the night to follow. His heartfelt heavy every time he thought about the dinner later. He knew something had been bugging Charlie for a while now and tonight he and Aubrey would learn who had been abusing the kind-hearted medic who they both cared so much for. Thorn wasn’t certain he knew what he would do once he had the information but he did know that he would to everything he could to keep Charlie safe.

As the duo got into the arena for the Lazer Tag game Thorn couldn’t help but feel out of place holding a gun of any kind. It was heavy and awkward and he certainly wasn’t thrilled with the idea of shooting anyone. He wasn’t sure if Aubrey picked up on it or if she was just trying to be strategic but her offer to take his gun as well as hers while he ran for the flag felt like a weight lifted off his chest. He was all too eager to hand the weapon over to her and knew that it would be better used in her hands than his. When the game began he would let her clear the way and he would get in and out with the flag as quickly as he could.

The match itself was a blur to Thorn as he raced over and under obstacles while trying his best to dodge bullets. Only being able to see through one eye made it a bit difficult to know where all dangers were at one time but the call-outs from his team, specifically Aubrey, helped immensely. Thorn remembered getting to the enemy's base relatively quickly and grabbing their flag. As he was turning to flee a shot pierced his arm and he almost dropped the flag but managed to catch it in his other hand. Without a thought, he ducked and slid under a barrier just as Aubrey managed to shoot the guy behind him. Racing as fast as he could Thorn spotted Aubrey struggling to hold the gun but managing to get another shot off at some unknown force behind him, likely saving him and the entire game while allowing herself to be shot in the process. It was like some scene from an epic movie as he crossed the border into their base and the room filled with bright team colors as everyone shouted in excitement. Thorn was huffing for breath slightly but he didn’t focus on that but rather on helping Aubrey up. He didn’t know how many times she had been shot but she was on the ground so he had to imagine it was quite a few to put her down. Offering her and hand that she took he smiled and high-fived the blonde as they celebrated their win. “That was a rush.” He laughed and rubbed feeling back into his arm. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look in your eyes when you were out there.” He added and remembered how she looked like a warrior goddess wielding two guns like that.

With the ball now in his court for what the duo was to do next Thorn paused for a moment and thought. “Well…” He began before an idea hit him and his smile returned just as bright as ever. “What about a fruit drink? I saw a stand just down the block that blends fruits in their peel so like you can have an entire pineapple drink inside of a pineapple?” He suggested and hoped the idea sounded interesting to her. After running that much he had worked up his thirst and was ready to drink whatever he could. “I think you can add flavorings too and if I am not mistaken there should be a tattoo show down that way too.” He added and knew the both of them had tattoos and he personally enjoyed seeing what the different artists had accomplished. “Or there is the weapons booths if that interests you? Or the strong man competition?”

Nerdy.

Shayla

Mood: Focused

Location: Tattoo Parlor

Interactions: Open

With her sketchbook resting comfortably on her lap as she curled up in her corner of the tattoo shop Shayla’s mind and worries seemed to disappear and become consumed by the art she was working on. The page before her was coming to life with the image she had been lingering on mentally for months. It was one more in her personal collection of floral dinosaur skull tattoos that were unique to her. It might seem odd, but she had always loved dinosaurs, ever since she was little, and for some reason when she found out she was sick her love for them seemed to grow. Reading about them, watching shows, tattooing them on her body, she had a passion for them that came from an odd understanding. They lived every moment of every day not knowing if they would see the next sunrise and eventually, they all died because of something that even the greatest predator among them couldn’t have fought off. It felt similar in a way to the situation Shay found herself in. She was never self-absorbed enough to truly compare herself to the great dinosaurs of the past but their fate and her own felt the same in the fact that they are both inescapable and unpredictable. She knew if she ever said anything like that out loud someone would laugh at her but luckily there would never be a reason for her to say it out loud.

Carefully she shaded some of the petals around the lower jaw bone of the raptor and worked carefully to make sure each petal seemed as life-like as possible. She knew it was ambitious to attempt a petal design as complicated as that of the marigold flower but that is part of what made the flower so appealing. The design and the meaning behind the flower were enough to make it a compelling enough plant that she felt she would want it as a part of her flesh for the rest of her life. She had already begun talking with several of the other artists about who would be willing to take on the actual tattooing process and many of them seemed eager to take the job. She was lucky to have such a supportive group of co-workers because while she didn’t attempt to get overly close with any of them they all had each other's backs in one way or another.

Shayla was pretty sure that Addison, the owner of the tattoo shop, had caught on to something not being right with her health. It wasn’t something that happened quickly but after a few dizzy spells and some rather heavy nose bleeds Addison had begun to show signs that she knew something was wrong. She didn’t make Shay feel weird or weak about it though, she simply stepped in without complaint if something happened at an inconvenient time, made sure to always have copious amounts of tissues on hand, and always seemed to keep a caring eye on the young woman. So long as it remained something they didn’t have to actually talk about Shayla was fine with it because it meant her business was still her own and Addison respected her enough to keep her distance.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Bloom

Mood: Compassionate

Location: Streets

Interactions: Griffon

The challenge issued to her was not an easy one especially with the drink and cannabis in her system which made things feel a bit fuzzy and her limbs feel heavy. Yet here she was standing in front of Big Bang Burger with a stool in her hand and a moose head to reach. Her mind was working a bit slower but she felt her thoughts coming together to formulate a plan of some sort that she hoped would work. She never turned down a dare and she didn’t have any intention of starting now so she would need to either succeed or get hurt trying. She tried her best not to be overly conscious of the fact that she was about to be scaling the side of a building barefoot and in a dress though she knew those passing by would make her well aware.

Slipping her heels off and using the strap of her purse to tie the stool to her Bloom looked at the side of the building and the objects around it and hanging off of it. Luckily she was an avid rock climber and also had a great skill for parkour due to spending most of her life scaling and jumping around the rafters of a barn. She blinked a few times and felt the effects of the booze and drugs beginning to fade as she hadn’t indulged as much in the pen and could handle her liquor very well. Moving forward the instructor was sure she had figured out her path up the wall and to the moose, now all she had to do was avoid slipping or losing her grip and she would be there.

It was awkward scaling and jumping with the stool hanging from her back and side but she did her best to manage as she managed to find makeshift foot holes and grabbing points in the old stone wall. Occasionally she would make use of a flag pole or a random pipe as she swung and clung to the side of the building. Below her, she could hear people cheering and hollering at her, some whistling as they enjoyed the show, but so far no one had tried to stop her because it was more interesting to see if she would make it or not. Finally, after a few moments, Bloom reached a point in which she could place the stool on the moose’s antlers, and with a smile of relief she did just that. For a moment she worried it wouldn’t stay but after a brief wobble, the bar stool slipped into place as the new crown on the moose’s head. She sighed and smiled at the sight, clearly relishing the moment of having completed the near-impossible task without breaking her back in the process.

Making her way back down to the street and her shoes she was more than happy to slip them on as her toes now ached from gripping the rough stone for so long. It was just as she was finishing slipping on her heels that a familiar voice sounded behind her and she turned to see the smiling face of Griffon standing before her. “Thanks Griff!” She replied with a warm smile. “Oh, yeah, I promise I don’t usually do that during my free time.” She chuckled and looked up at her work. “I was playing a version of truth or dare with Ghost and he dared me to do it.” She explained and looked around for a moment seeing no sign of Ghost and acknowledging that he had probably just wandered off to his next exciting event of the day. “Have you ever played before? It is pretty simple; basically, you ask someone truth or dare, and they will pick one or the other. Once they have chosen, they must either answer any question you ask them truthfully or complete whatever dare you challenge them to.” She continued and watched as Griffon’s brow furrowed slightly as he thought about it. Hearing his response she instantly felt a bit guilty for not thinking about his situation with his memory that she had heard mention of. “I’m sure if you played with the right people they would find a way to make it fun for you.” She assured him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

As the conversation continued Bloom listened silently to his request and rolled the idea of what he was asking for around in her mind for a moment. She knew instructors in the past had used the simulations for battle practice and other things without getting into trouble. The only time she could think of an instructor getting into huge trouble for using the simulation was her initiation year when an instructor used the simulation to make a romantic dream date for one of the initiates and himself. After considering the knowledge and evidence she had Bloom’s lips parted as she replied, “I think I could arrange something private for you.” Her voice was soft and compassionate as she spoke with him. “I will need to be there to operate it and would likely see anything you do as a result. Are you comfortable with that?” She inquired as she wanted to do her best to respect his privacy. “I promise I can keep a secret.”

Nerdy.

code by Stardust Galaxy

 

[WanderLust.]

Lainey Covington // Female // Age 16 // Erudite Transfer
Interacting With: Cas Nerdy.

Lainey’s head whipped towards the sound of a feminine voice just over her shoulder, her entire body tensing, only to relax with a smile when she realized the source. “You scared me!” Lainey practically growled as a laugh escaped her lips, playfully returning Cas’s hip bump with a bit more force. Sebastian beamed at the sight of the previously fellow erudite, immediately throwing an arm around the dark haired girl, though refraining from ruffling her dark locks which seemed too beautifully styled to ruin. “Stunning as always, Cassidy.” He winked, “Its always good to see you, although admittedly, I’m glad you’re dauntless’s problem now.” He jeered with a mischievous smirk.



“You’re just glad she’s here to keep me out of trouble.” Lainey rolled her eyes, cocking a challenging eyebrow at her older brother. Lainey’s defection to dauntless had been a surprise to everyone, including her family. Although, she had been relieved when Cas had followed suit shortly after. She had uprooted her entire life when she chose to leave erudite, but she had unknowingly kept her best friend close. Still, Sebastian had taken the loss of his little sister the hardest. If she were being completely honest, she was certain a part of her parents was glad to be rid of her and her chaotic antics. She knew her elder sister, Evangeline, was all too delighted at the prospect of having won her lifelong competition with Lainey. Had there ever even been a time when Evangeline had felt affection for Lainey? Or had she simply hated her new rival from the moment she was born?



The memory of her older sister still stung deep in her chest, the sight of Peter in bed with her had stirred bile in her stomach, and still did even know. Lainey hadn’t even realized that she had gone quiet in the time it had taken their small group to get to the shooting gallery across the carnival. Lainey was roused from her thoughts by the sound of plastic bullets against antique metal, a sharp and poignant twang that caused her to blink a few times before forcing herself back into the present. “I’ll outshoot the both of you.” She grinned, her perfectly constructed mask returning to grace her elegant features. Untouchable, unphased, Lainey was well versed in concealing the anxieties and sorrows that stirred under the surface. Nobody knew anything she didn’t want them to, and that was how she liked it. With a few strides, she was reaching for one of the flimsy, toy-like guns provided by the carnival stands. She was sure the aim on them was significantly less than average, their accuracy dubious. But that just added to the fun.



Sebastian was, unsurprisingly, a terrible shot. Though he had slapped down a few fives to pay for the games, it had essentially turned into a competition between Lainey and Cassidy. Sebastian, after his pitiful failure in the first round, had resigned himself to simply watch the two girls. As Lainey stood there, eyes squinted and focused on her target, the metallic twang of bullets hitting small tin soldiers, she was sourly reminded once again of Evangeline. Everything had always been a competition with her sister, and that was perhaps why she took such solace in her friendship with Cassidy. Because it was easy, effortless, amicable, no remnant of the feminine hostility she often received from Evangeline. Yet here she was, competing with Cas just like she competed with her sister, and suddenly, Lainey didn’t feel like playing anymore. She tipped her gun to the right ever so slightly, a ‘mistake’ most would assume was due to her left handed dominance, however it was entirely intentional. She watched as her bullets pierced the thin cardboard wall behind the tin soldiers, while Cas managed to shoot down the last of her tiny opponents.



As she placed down her gun and turned to face Cas, Lainey bowed her head. “A noble opponent, indeed. You’ve bested me once again dear Cassidy, I salute you.” Lainey grinned with a mock salute. She could still faintly feel the remnants of the whiskey from earlier, a pleasant buzz in the back of her mind blocking out the sharp sadness she had experienced when Chet had decided not to tag along with them. She wanted to wack her head against a wall, get it together Lainey. He’s just a stupid boy. You don’t have time for stupid boys anyways. “I’m going to get a tattoo.” Lainey chuckled darkly, the impulsive thought snaking its way to her lips before she could stop it, secretly reveling in the absolute shock that crossed Sebastian’s face. “Come with me, come on - help me pick something out.” Lainey knew Cas wouldn’t be able to get one due to the intense pain it would cause her, but the idea of having something permanent in her life, something she knew she could rely on, that would always be there rain or shine, was extremely comforting to her.​

 

[Aviator]

Ghost // Male // Age 18 // Training Instructor // Erudite to Dauntless​

The hell was that? scoffed an imaginary voice, rough as a calloused palm as Christian turned and bulldozed through the crowd, crowned by late afternoon sunlight until he disappeared from Ghost’s line of sight. Thank you for your honesty? Please. That was anything but honest. The cheering masses of people gathered along the side of the road rippled, and from them waltzed a slender, proud figure. If it weren’t for the horn-rimmed glasses perched on his face, Ghost might have thought the figure was a more casually-dressed doppelganger of himself, but as he drew closer the subtle differences in his appearance became more apparent. This boy was an inch or so taller, clean-shaven, and his chocolate-cherry hair was coiled in tight curls on top and shorn close on the sides. He was dressed in an off-white hoodie that hung open on a plain polo shirt and dark skinny jeans that hugged the acute angles of his legs.
“I wonder whether he still would have thanked you if he knew you were gunning for his girl, and that’s the only reason you apologized in the first place. Because you feel sorry about wanting to cuck him, too. Or maybe he does know, and just doesn’t know how to bring it up in polite conversation. Or he doesn’t see you as enough of a threat to be concerned by it, because he knows you’ll have both feet in the grave by the time you find the balls to make a move on the Avalon girl. Tick-tock, Ferris.” Alger clicked his tongue and gave a smile that was equal parts sympathetic and cruel. A gentle breeze kicked up from behind him, ruffling his voluminous hair and pushing a sweet, flowery aroma like old books and roses onto Ghost. The maddening patterns of the disco shimmered and warped, transforming into watery sunlight rife with dust motes. Ghost and the older brother he’d never had were no longer standing at the parade outside of the Dauntless compound, but among the dark and heavy furniture that had populated their father’s study. The towering bookshelves and desk devoid of homey knick-knacks were deceptive; the room may have had the outward appearance of a study, but it was as poorly lit and uninviting as a tomb.
Fear closed around Ghost’s heart like a fist. Where were St. Andrew’s Street and the parade floats? Where were the plastic beads and cups littering the ground, tripping hazards for the unwary? The drunks talking too loudly and unaware that they were walking counter to the natural flow of foot traffic? “Alger, get lost,” Ghost fumed, making no pretense to hide his impatience to return to reality.
“That’d be a little hard for me to do even if I wanted to, which I don’t,” Alger said lazily. “After all, if Ma hadn’t miscarried, I would be standing in your shoes right now. And because she did, you, Ferris, are the person that I was supposed to become.” The boy who looked like a slightly older and bespectacled version of Ghost shot him an infuriating wink, the very same sort that Ghost gave to Blair every time they schemed a new plot together. “Not so different, are we? Hell, we’re practically the same person.”
“Whether we are or aren’t, I don’t have time for a detour,” Ghost snarled, relying on his anger to obscure how deeply unsettled he was growing. “I have to find Charlie so that we can go to dinner at her mother's house this evening.” His voice cracked slightly and his next words came out as a whimper, dissolving the façade he’d projected like a sandcastle at high tide. “Don’t make me renege on another promise I’ve made to her. I’ve done that too many times as it is.”
“Oh, don’t be so maudlin,” Alger said with a flippant wave of his hand. “People are supposed to be giddy and smiley when they get crossed, and here you are a weepy-eyed mess that can barely hold it together. You’ll get to see your brown-eyed girl later, don’t worry. For now let’s talk about the blue-eyed one.” Alger smiled the way Lucifer must have smiled moments before he fell from heaven. When Ghost looked into his eyes, flames had consumed the pupils and were licking persistently at the outer edges of the irises. He wondered whether the fire was representative of Alger’s true nature shining through, his eyes portals to superhot and nonsensical chaos, or if the firelight was just a reflection and Ghost himself was the one ablaze, the hallucinogenic synergy of drugs having caused his mind to simultaneously combust.
“There’s nothing to talk about. Blair’s a business partner. Nothing more,” Ghost automatically replied. He would have stopped there if he could, but once he had started talking the words were forcibly extracted from him as if they were attached to fish hooks. “She made that abundantly clear when she ignored my offer to treat her wounds earlier this morning.”
Alger’s eyebrows soared high up his forehead as a spasm of laughter shuddered through him. “You actually made a pass at her? Well, well. I don’t know whether to congratulate you or say a prayer for the newly deceased.”
“Probably the latter,” Ghost said with a heaviness too great to be anything but an unwanted truth. “She’s still very much enamored with Parks. He’s so… simple-minded and dispassionate that I don’t know what she sees in him. But then, I would be even more confused if she were attracted to me, I guess.” Whereas most people had a driving force, ambition, or need that propelled them to bounce back from failure, Ghost could detect no such motive for Christian. If it weren’t for his lofty family name, Ghost probably would have passed over him as if he were wallpaper ever since the first day of training. He was an initiate with no particularly outstanding qualities or impressive feats to his name, no thoughtful light behind his eyes that Ghost would have cared to engage in conversation. Yet just because he wasn’t great in any way didn’t mean he couldn’t be good, and that was more than Ghost had going for him. His number wasn’t the one you dialed when you needed relationship advice in the wee hours of the morning or a shoulder to cry on after a pet had passed. It was the one you dialed when you had a gambling debt you needed a way to wriggle out of or a hard-to-come-by substance for a decent price. Ghost was the friend you needed, not the one you wanted or liked.
“Ah. I see,” Alger said carefully, and despite the bland reply, the irreverent light in his eyes diminished for the first time and was replaced with something softer. “I’d extend to you my sympathies, but I know you don’t want them. We wouldn’t want them,” he corrected himself. Because Alger was the child who was supposed to be but never was. He was the miscarriage who had chronologically preceded Ghost, and since he hadn’t lived long enough to inherit the Jacobi name and fortune, his dark legacy had fallen to Ghost. If fate hadn’t had other plans, Ghost would have been the second son, an alternative that his parents could have chosen to ignore if they’d wanted to, because they would have had another, better option in which to invest their time and love. And eventually, his father had chosen to ignore him, but only after Ghost had failed test after test. Only after his father had determined that he’d rather have no heir than one who was so thoroughly disappointing. Had Alger lived, Ghost might have still transferred out of Erudite, but maybe he could have done it with his self-worth intact. Maybe he could have done it without the constant fear that his emotions would be torn apart and invalidated if ever he allowed them to bleed through.
A faraway sheen dropped over Alger’s eyes, which were the same fiery brown as Ghost’s own. His brother appeared to be looking into the middle distance without actually seeing anything. “Maybe it’s not betrayal we’re afraid of, but the pain caused by it. Does that sound about right?” Now his eyes focused on Ghost, bright with question.
“There was something I asked Blair two days ago. In retrospect, I probably should have realized the nature of my feelings toward her then, but I numbed them out, like I usually do,” Ghost answered circuitously. “Anyway, I asked her if Christian is even capable of loving her, because is it possible to love something that one doesn’t understand? Now, I don’t presume to understand Blair—at least not yet—but it also got me wondering—”
“Whether anyone can ever love us if we don’t even give them a chance to understand us,” Alger finished, his voice a hushed breath without substance.
Ghost nodded once. Alger was spared from having to respond by catching sight of a cigar box on their father’s desk, a lacquered mahogany creation adorned with a headshot of a woman. Dark circles of makeup engulfed her eyes, giving them the illusion of sockets, and vertical lines extended from the corners of her mouth, as if it were sewn shut. The tip of her nose was blackened like a corpse’s, and colorful curlicues of makeup adorned her forehead and cheeks. Alger flipped open the lid of the cigar box, presenting the woman’s picture upside down to Ghost, and retrieved a cigar. He put his lips to the cigar, and the tip was suddenly smoldering without ever having been ignited, but Ghost remembered that this was a dream and resisted the urge to argue.
“You know what’s really screwed up?” he asked instead. “We let Charlie believe—no, we specifically told her—that we took lull ourselves as kids. Like, of our own free will and everything.” Ghost paused to let the full meaning of those words sink in.
“That’s not what happened,” Alger agreed, smoke escaping his mouth in gray clouds as he spoke. “We don’t talk much about what really happened, do we?”
Ghost shook his head. “No, we don’t. During that first year without Ma and Da—that one was the toughest—whenever we told anyone that their killers were responsible for our addiction, that they had injected us with lull over and over again, no one believed us. Everyone except Margot always assumed it was some narrative we’d made up so that we weren’t to blame for our own addiction. They thought we were liars who had taken the drugs recreationally and gotten hooked like Christian Parks.” Rage trembled inside Ghost’s body at the memories. “It happened so many times over that we felt like a liar just telling it, even when we weren’t.” But what kids and teachers and random watchers of Ghost’s televised interviews had refused to accept was that he had been psychically helpless to resist—tied to a chair and gagged—as one of the two men who had broken into his parents’ house forced dose after dose of lull on him. Because those kinds of drugs are too expensive to waste like that or because if they wanted to hurt you, you would have been dead like your parents were arguments used to undermine Ghost’s story. As if the burden of explaining his assailants’ mysterious motive were on him, and until he could he was just an attention-deprived kid crying wolf.
Alger tipped some ashes into a tray that suddenly materialized on the surface of their father’s desk. “And now, as a result, we’d rather take ownership of a deed we didn’t do. Because that’s better than being told we need mental help for making up tall tales.”
“No no, we definitely need mental help, but for other things. Lots of other things.” For the first time a hint of a smile appeared on Ghost’s lips. “The first few times I got high I used to always think about how life would have been different if you hadn’t died, Alger. If Ma and Da’s killers would have maimed you terribly but ultimately spared your life, like me. Or if Da would have been a much kinder person if he’d gotten the heir he always wanted, and no one would have had any desire to assassinate him in the first place because he wouldn’t have scammed all those people of their money.”
Alger cocked his head pensively. “What changed?”
“Well, I decided it ultimately doesn’t matter who we could have been. Because you can wonder endlessly about how any one past event, if played differently, could have altered your present life course. Those kinds of thoughts are useless. They’ll never get anyone anywhere, except maybe a bottle of wine poorer. What matters is that people look toward the future and don’t let fear of repeating a past regret stop them from achieving all that they can be.”
“A little cliché, but I like it.” The older brother whom Ghost had replaced in the world nodded his approval, disturbing the translucent layer of smoke that wreathed his head. “With that, I think it’s time you wake up, Ferris.”

* * *​

Reality slammed into Ghost like meteors to earth. The sunlight streaming into his eyes was suddenly overpowering and he squinted, flinching away from the golden rays. Memories came back to him in trickles. He’d forgotten that he was standing on the outskirts of the parade for one of the Dauntless leaders' birthdays; the guy’s name was on the tip of Ghost’s tongue, but the harder he tried to think about it, the more evasive the name became. He cast his gaze out as far as he could see, to where the spires of skyscrapers poked into the sky. The horizon seemed to shift closer when he stared at it, the entire world undulating around him, and Ghost was unsure which parts of it were in motion and which were stationary as droves of people hustled up and down the street.
There was a barely perceptible yet malicious pressure on his shoulder, as if a wasp had settled there ready to sting him as soon as he acknowledged its presence. Ghost tried to swat it away, lashing out in an uncoordinated attack that nearly clipped himself underneath the chin. When Ghost refocused his attention, to his surprise he found someone standing directly in front of him, watching him intently. The female initiate whom he had encountered in the laboratory yesterday, her hair piled in elegant cornrows and her black dress slipping off one shoulder. Anika Vex’s eyes were as sharp and keen as a razor’s gleaming edge, watching him expectantly as if waiting for an answer. But if she had asked Ghost something, he hadn’t heard her voice make a sound, let alone caught specific words. And then he noticed her hand extended to him, the meaning unmistakable. Anika’s knuckles and fingers were coated in a fine, silvery lattice of scars, their pattern fascinating Ghost, who was trying to find a hidden image contained within them when she spoke again. This time he heard her, so well in fact that the sudden burst of volume caused his shoulders to tense up around his ears, which in turn prompted a spike of pain in the side of his neck.
“I would sooner die than keep one as lovely as you waiting,” Ghost heard, and it took him a moment to recognize the voice as his own. It sounded far too dry and nasally to have come from his own mouth, an ugly, annoying sound. When instead it should have been beautiful, like Anika, her eyeliner creating mesmerizing swirls around her eyes and her lips an attractive pop of color. “If I were a girl, I would want you to teach me how to do makeup, Anika. You look so pretty in it. Would you teach me how to do makeup, Anika? If I were a girl? Though I don’t like things getting close to my eyes, so the eyeliner might freak me out, but I love learning new things, so even if I don’t use the eyeliner on myself it would be nice to know— Oh yeah.” He’d forgotten about Anika’s outstretched hand until she gave it an impatient little jiggle. Not trusting his own navigational skills at the moment, he slipped his hand inside hers and allowed her to lead him to the makeshift dance floor that had been set up outside. It wasn’t until Ghost felt how comparatively soft and smooth Anika’s hand was that he realized how sweaty and shaky his own must have been.
A forest of scantily-clad bodies populated the dance floor, weaving in and out of one another like the intertwining branches of trees when a strong wind blows. As Ghost and Anika joined the masses, a frisson of anxiety pulsed through him. What if all these people figured out that he was drunk and high off his ass? Could they tell just by looking at him? He tried to pull his eyelids as wide apart as they would go, knowing a drooping gaze was one of the most telltale signs. Then logic belatedly kicked in, and Ghost figured half of the people dancing were already operating under the influence of some substance. That made him feel slightly better; he didn’t want to be the most incompetent fool on the dance floor. Not after he had taken several years of dance classes together with Leah, never mind that had been half a lifetime ago.
Boisterous guitar riffs shredded through Ghost, rattling him to his bones. The vibrations spread uncomfortably through his chest as he followed Anika through the throngs of dancers to a vacant pocket of floor. Usually, Ghost ignored the lyrics of songs and couldn’t parse them out if he tried, but right now all of his senses felt dialed up to a thousand. Amid a crash of drums, a youthful tenor singer belted out,

Well, I think I'm gonna burn in Hell
Everybody burn the house right down

And say what I wanna say
Tell me I'm an angel, take this to my grave
Tell me I'm a bad man, kick me like a stray
Tell me I'm an angel, take this to my grave.

Anika’s toned body moved in serpentine slinks to the music. Without even trying to pick it up, the beat surged through Ghost, and he moved his feet in an easy, simple shuffle to it, knowing better than to attempt anything too intricate, lest his utter lack of coordination be made apparent. Suddenly the memory of his dinner date with Charlie crashed down on him like a collapsing wall. Ghost threw a wild glance at his watch, only to find Roman numerals staring up at him unhelpfully and his brows knitted themselves into a furrow as he tried to recall how to read an analog clock. 5:49, he determined at last. That meant he had slightly over an hour until the scheduled dinner at Sasha’s house. Damn, would he be sober enough to function by then? Because right now he sure as hell wasn’t, evidenced by the fact that he was standing frozen on the dance floor, having forgotten his purpose here.
A sultry female voice broke through his desperate tangle of thoughts. Ghost clumsily collected his composure and shook it into order like settling a deck of cards ready for dealing. “I concur,” he said, with as much seriousness as he could muster, picturing a head surgeon making the executive decision to operate. Because this was Anika Vex he was talking to, the woman who had tried to kill him in an Erudite chemical factory barely twenty-four hours ago. Ghost was well aware that, if Anika advanced on him with inimical intent again, in his current state he would be helpless to defend himself; therefore this conversation could very well mean life or death for him.
He promptly burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of everything. “No, for real, I agree, we gotta talk,” he said breathlessly when Anika met his outburst with a disdainful flick of her eyes. Ghost put his hands on his knees for balance. “You see, it’s just that I’m a very busy man with a very secretive schedule, so we gotta get this show on the road, because Ghost gotta jet to his next appointment soon. However—” He suddenly straightened and flung an arm around Anika’s waist, reeling her in close, and placed his other hand on her shoulder. The black mesh of her dress grated against his skin with a texture like scales. “A conversation with you certainly sounds fun, and I am thoroughly of the opinion that time spent enjoyed is not time wasted. I kinda have to be, because I don’t have long in this world. Carpe fucking diem and all that. So I’ll make time for you.”
During his discourse, the song had shifted to one with a howling synthesizer that faded out as an angelic voice started trilling soft lyrics. Ghost shimmied his torso in time with the undulations of music and raised one arm for Anika to twirl under. “First order of business: I know every other adult will tell you otherwise—and just between you and me, I don’t think I count as one—but do drugs, Anika. They don’t know what they’re missing out on, those other adults, because aside from cheap card tricks and the occasional telekinetic temper tantrum, drugs are the closest thing to magic the modern world knows. Don’t knock ‘em till you try ‘em. It might sound like a bad idea—and it is; it totally is, don’t get me wrong—but that’s the beauty of them. Anything worth doing starts as a bad idea. Like dancing with you, for instance.”
Anika opened her mouth to speak, but Ghost stopped her with a sharp grunt, taking offense to her attempted interjection in his monologue. “I’m not done yet. Listen to your elders, dammit, you might learn something,” he snapped, his lips puckering into a moue of distaste. “Where was I…” Anika and Ghost swayed back and forth together—or more accurately, Anika swayed and Ghost fought to keep from stumbling over his own feet. His thoughts were turning in on themselves like paper curling as it burns. “Oh yeah!” he said with a flash of triumph. “Whyever were you at that lab yesterday, anyway? I’ll tell you my reason if you tell me yours.” Taking Anika’s agreement to his offer for granted, Ghost bowed his head and leaned in close, as if the information he was about to convey were top secret. When he spoke, his breath stirred the tendril of hair beside Anika’s ear. “I like to steal because it’s heaps of fucking fun.” He pulled away as swiftly as if they were playing a game of tag and he was in danger of becoming “it.” In a feat of concentration, Ghost managed to wink at Anika. It was the same sort of mischievous, conspiratorial wink Alger had given him in his waking dream. “Maybe it’s wrong, but I don’t really care if I’m a bad guy so long as I’m a damn competent bad guy. Skilled at my trade. You know?”
A new song, slower than its predecessors, opened with some kind of stringed instrument, notes falling like a gentle feather brush. Maybe it was a banjo, or a ukulele. Ghost had no talent for music whatsoever and likely couldn’t have told their sounds apart while stone-cold sober, let alone now. Looking at Anika with an urgent gravity as if the fate of the universe depended on her answer, he suddenly blurted, “Do you trust me?”

 

[Nerdy.]

Aubrey Amber Stark || 16 || Initiate || Dauntlessborn

Aubrey was finding that she was enjoying her time with Thorn a lot more than she thought she might, he was fun to talk to, he didn't argue with her, he was thoughtful and caring... and yet she found herself missing Finn's feistiness and the way they egged each other on to do silly and mischeivous things. Yet... Thorn hadn't made her feel anything bad yet, and she was glad of that, for now. She wanted to trust him, the fact that Charlie had always thought and spoke highly of him helped Aubrey in letting down her guard around him. Plus, when she'd gone through her "panic attack" just before, he had been an utter darling about it all. As they continued on their day through the festivities and parties, she chewed on her lip, stealing glances at Thorn and continuing to try and analyze him and figure him out. He wasn't lying to her or hiding anything from her, not from what she could tell, but he was also so,.. well... not dauntless like. Of course her mind immediately bounced away from these thoughts when Thorn complimented her, and her ego ballooned up inside of her. "It was exhilerating, not quite as fun as a real fight but it was a good time! You did well too, I saw you take a couple shots. I definitely hope they keep it up for a while, would be fun to do again." She said, thinking about how she might do it next time, and wondering what strategies she would play. She couldn't do the same thing every time or it would be to easy to figure out, but she bet she could figure out more. As Thorn began to think of what he wanted to do next, Aubrey took the time to stretch out the limbs that had taken most of the shots. Although when the game finished the paralyzying and pain effect wore off much faster than during the game, it still felt numb and slightly tingly. So she stretched out her arms, her legs and everywhere else she had been shot as Thorn talked about so many things. A fruit stand, a tattoo show, a weapons stand, a strong man competition. Aubrey giggled as he trailed off, "I didn't pick you as the indecisive type, lucky for you I am very decisive, and I think we should do all of them! Or we should try! We have like an hour before we need to go, I bet we could do all of them. Let's go! Where was the fruit stand? I'm dying for a pina colada." Aubrey almost downright moaned at the thought of the pineapple, coconut drink that she would get at the stand. The idea of drinking it straight from a pineapple was hilarious and she loved it.

They made their way to the fruit stand, and Aubrey had happily been humming to herself as she walked with Thorn, both of them a bit dry of conversation. She had no doubt that Thorn must have been a bit exhausted from the amount of running he had done during the game, but she was almost the opposite, having done something energetic and physical it was like her body was on the go now, like she couldn't stop moving. Thus when they got to the fruit stand and had to wait in line she was almost hopping from foot to foot as if she couldn't stand still. The alcohol in her system kept her warm and just the tiniest bit fuzzy on the inside, but mostly her energy was truly from the exhilerating showdown in the lazer tag arena. She bounced up and down as they finally got to the front of the line and they were able to pick out their drinks, each one served in something relating to them, like Thorn said, you could drink a pineapple juice out of a pineapple. She giggled as she ordered that, and then went to a separate section where she could put extra flavours in it. She personally added just a little bit of vodkha, and then a lot of coconut. She was aware that she was going to dinner in an hour so she needed to be mostly sober for that. Charlie's life might depend on it. Sasha's too, if Jeremy was right. She felt a swell of pride within her as she remembered how Jeremy had come to her, Aubrey Amber Stark, to ask her to do this for him. That meant he had seen how good she was, he trusted her, and he promised her so much promotion when she finished initiation that she couldn't help but drool at the thought. She sipped at her drink through a brightly coloured metal straw as Thorn finished making his own. Aubrey eyed his up, but never made any inclination like she wanted to try it, she was very happy with her own drink.

"So! This tattoo show sounds awesome, I might get some new ideas for tattoos! Let's go have a look." She said with excitement as they made their way pleasantly to the tattoo show that was nearby. She sipped at her drink happily and felt the delightful tropical sensation go down her throat and freshen up her system. She was glad she had only put a small amount of alcohol into the drink, as she knew she preferred the fresh taste over the alcoholic buzz right now. She'd had enough of that today anyway. Plus... she had a suspicion that Thorn got uncomfortable whenever she drank alcohol, and for some reason that actually made her want to take a little break from copious amounts of alcohol, and to take it sparingly. But then again, maybe she was just being smart today. She wasn't too bothered by the thought, as the sight of the tattoo show coming into view caused her mind to immediately escape the thoughts it was in, and go to new ones. Aubrey loved tattoos, she had been brought up watching Sasha work in the tattoo shop, and hanging out there with Finn when she was little. She'd even tried to give herself a tattoo when she was very little, and was therefore banned from touching the tools without supervision. But she had loved the way that you could artistically make your body look different, unique, new. She was a sucker for any tattoo, didn't matter whether they were one of a kind, or truly cliche. She had so many desires to have tattoos, and yet it was similar to how she felt about having carvings within her knives, she didn't want to do so much that there was no longer any room to have what she actually wanted. So she tried to save up for good tattoos rather than getting them all the time. Thorn and Aubrey finally got to the show area, and were pleasantly surprised to find a couple of the seats not taken, although most people were standing, both Thorn and Aubrey felt exhausted from the day already and gladly took a seat. Aubrey herself curled her legs up onto the seat, nestling the drink between them and hugging them with her arms as she watched the show. It seemed like it was tattoo artists and those who had gotten their tattoos were coming up to show off the beautiful works of art. Aubrey was very impressed by this, there were full body tattoos that had taken decades to do. There were intricate and beautiful works that had taken hours of time in one session to complete. There were ones that held stories that made you laugh, cry and happy. Aubrey's favourite was a woman who came up with a man who was bare chested. The man explained that he had wanted a unique tattoo to accentuate a scar that he had received when he had fought off some factionless who were mugging him and his family. Instead of wanting the scar to be hidden, he had given the tattooist direct instructions to accentuate it. Aubrey gazed in wonder as the tattooist showed how she had done that. The man had a two large scars, one was a long stripe down his back, it was huge and had obviously been done by a machete or razored sword of some kind, the other scar was on his torso, and rested under his pec, and that was a strange shape that he explained had been a molotov that had directly hit him there, causing a terrible burn.

The beauty of the tattoo thought was how she had woven it onto his body. She had chosen a snake to do on him, Aubrey approved of this, loving snakes herself and having tattoos of them on herself as well. The snake's head was the burn, not covering it, but being drawn around it and using the unique burn formation to create unique patterns, then she had tattooed the rest of the snake wrapping around his torso, using the long scar on the man's back to be the majority of the body of the snake. Aubrey leaned over to Thorn. "Isn't that awesome? What a cool way to have a tattoo, I Would love to do that if I had such a cool story and scar." She said with a smile, leaning back into her chair to finish her drink. The rest of the people that came out were also amazing, and Aubrey thoroughly enjoyed it, although it wasn't till she happened to look at a clock that she realized they had spent nearly a half hour at the show. She looked at Thorn. "I'm not sure we have time to go to the weapons booth and the strong man competition, which one do you think we should do? I don't mind either way." She said, watching as he thought about it.

Interacting with: Thorn Sanctuaryforall1

Cassidy "Cassie" Wickham || 16 || Initiate || Erudite Transfer

Cassidy's laugh lightly entered the air at Lainey's remark. "I'm glad to be of service, although I'm not sure I'm qualified to keep you out of trouble..." Cassidy said with a cheeky grin, getting a sweet and warmhearted sigh and rolling of eyes from Sebastian, and a fake shock and gasp from Lainey, causing them all to eventually just laugh and continue their way to the shooting range. Cassidy was definitely aware that Chet had somehow slunk off while they had walked and she felt immediate distaste for him in that moment, though she quickly tried to ignore that and focus more on Lainey and Sebastian. Her bestfriend needed her and she was genuinely happy to have bumped into Sebastian so that she could playfully flirt with him and make Lainey uncomfortable while also warming her spirits. She chatted with Sebastian lightly, the two of them catching up on things that had changed, she asked about his career and if he had gotten himself a girlfriend or a wife, he asked her how the initiation was going and whether she was doing well. Cassidy mockingly said she was doing fabulously, and then winked to show that it was mostly sarcasm. To be fair, she had purposely been trying to stay middle of the group when it came to doing well. She had no doubts that she could top the leaderboard if she tried, but what she actually wanted was to be invisible, to go unnoticed. Not only because of her Divergency, but also because she just needed to stay out of her parent's view. And although her parents were factionless, she knew that there was possibility of them finding her and Griffon and stealing them away. Plus, she had sworn that she had seen her mother here this morning, and that little thought was keeping her on her toes.

While at the shooting range, Cassidy could tell Lainey was thinking a lot due to the fact that she was mostly silent. Cassidy and Lainey knew each other well enough to read the signs of how each was feeling, and Cassidy couldn't tell exactly what was the problem, but she knew there definitely was a problem. Sebastian had stopped shooting halfway through, having seen how competitive and good Lainey and Cassidy were, as they went shot for shot almost identically hitting their targets. "It's just like ballet." Cassidy said at one point, remembering as they had been almost identitcal in rhythm and style during their shows and rehearsals. Most of that had been thanks to Lainey's personal desire in having a competent ballet partner, and having helped Cassidy to get her bearings. Thus Cassidy had tried to help Lainey in shooting, having had experience already, but it was almost unneeded, as Lainey had picked it up like a natural, and Cassidy had hardly done anything to help. That's why she knew that Lainey must have done it on purpose when she missed. Cassidy might have brought it up with her, but when Lainey admitted defeat and congratulated her, she played along, bowing for effect and shrugging. "What can I say... " She purred, entering a mental log that she hoped to talk to Lainey later to see if everything was okay.

When Lainey talked about getting a tattoo, Cassidy's eyes lit up brightly as she watched Sebastian stutter in shock. Tattoos were basically outlawed in Erudite, it was "unruly, insensible, crass..." you name it. They thought of it as highly unprofessional, and if you had a tattoo in Erudite it was unlikely for you to get a job almost anywhere. But here in Dauntless it was almost the other way around. THe more tattoos you had, the more people respected you. She had seen people walk around with tattoos covering the majority of their body. The idea that tattoos equaled pain and suffering and self-expression was what they liked. She had no doubt that other factions would be okay with tattoos, but none like the Dauntless would truly praise and honour them. That's why Cassidy liked to paint them on herself, as she couldn't get one - she didn't dare try - she liked to fake them on herself. She had gotten very good, as Randi had stated, it had been so realistic that she had thought it truly was a tattoo. "I think that's a brilliant idea Lainey! I can't wait to see what you get. I think you should help her choose Sebastian, what a wonderful memento it will be." She purred as Sebastian finally agreed, having two beautiful women gazing at him with big eyes. They all made their way towards a tattoo parlour, and Cassidy was excited to see the designs. It wasn't till they got to the tattoo parlour that she even remembered that Shayla worked there, and therefore she was surprised when she saw her drawing in the far back of the room. Rather than yelling out her name, Cassidy simply waved and smiled at her. She wasn't sure if Shayla had wanted peace and quiet, or whether she was happy for company, so she decided she'd leave it for her to decide, for now, they were here to try and pick a design for Lainey.

Cassidy walked around the parlour, as the walls were covered in designs and quotes, she happily gazed at them as Lainey talked with Sebastian and one of the tattooist about what she wanted. Cassidy herself found a pang inside of her as she thought of the idea of getting a tattoo. She knew that it would hurt, it would feel like someone was cutting her arm off if she were to get one, and she didn't feel like that. That's when she discovered the henna section of the store. She watched as a tattooist was doing it to a women, and Cassidy's eyes glittered as she watched the person do it, no pain, no uncomfortableness, just beautiful intricate designs. It was very similar to the body paint and yet very different. Cassidy waited for the person to finish, before approaching them. She was careful in how she asked about the henna, not wanting to seem weak for not wanting pain, but instead asking how it is done. After hearing about it and figuring it would be pretty fun, she asked for something intricate and elegant for the person to do to her, and sat down, giving both of her hands to the person. The process took a little while, and she smiled as the person did it, enjoying the sensation. She had little to no conversation with the tattoo artist, but instead she complimented the on their intricate detailings and the nature in which they did the henna. When it was done,, Cassidy had a beautiful floral design that rose from her hands to her forearms. She paid the tattooist and made her way over to where Lainey was. "Look at this? I had never heard of it, but it looks really cool. WHat did you end up getting Lainey? Come on give me a look..." She said, firstly showing off her hands and then teasing Lainey and wanting a look.

Interacting with: Lainey WanderLust. Shayla (sort of) Sanctuaryforall1

 

[WanderLust.]

Blair Avalon // Female // Age 16 // Dauntless Born Initiate // Divergent
Interacting With: Christian (sort of) Nerdy. Fable (sort of) Sanctuaryforall1 Ghost Aviator

Beckham had whisked Blair away before she had even witnessed the end of Christian and Ghost’s interaction. In fact, her younger brother had ushered her away so quickly that she had let out a small squeak of protest as he led her in the opposite direction. His grip on her wrist was tight… a little too tight. “Beck… Wait!” she hissed softly through her teeth as she pulled away, but his grasp on her did not falter, and as he looked back at her a chill shot down Blair’s spine. His blonde hair, his wild eyes, that devious smirk, for a moment he almost reminded her of Ajax… but she quickly shook that thought away. Beckham may have wanted his sister to himself, but he was not malicious. As he tugged her away, Blair knew he wasn’t trying to hurt her. He did not hold the same hatred in his heart that Ajax did. Still, Blair planted her feet, her patience finally snapping. “What are you doing? I didn’t want to leave.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Look, whatever problem you have with Christian needs to stop. This is ridiculous.”



“He hits you Blair!” His voice cracked desperately, and Blair froze. “I see the bruises all over you, and I know it’s not from training. You can spew that lie to everyone else but I know the truth.” He continued, however, Blair’s icy voice cut him off. “You know nothing, Beckham.” She turned to head back towards Christian and Ghost, a mixture of rage and disappointment flickering in her eyes. She did not want to have this conversation, not now, not here, but Beck stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “He’s not good for you! Come on Blair, don’t do this. I can help you, please… just –“ The words escaped Blair’s lips before she even knew what to do with them. “He’s not the one that hits me Beck!” And then silence, as parallel eyes stared back at each other. A pair of stormy oceans confronting flaming forests. “What do you me-“ “It’s Ajax. Ajax is the one that hit me. Threw me down the stairs actually. So if you want to hold a grudge against someone, why don’t you take it up with him.” Blair hadn’t meant to be so harsh with her younger brother, but her patience had run thin. She was so tired of people thinking they knew what was best for her when they didn’t.



It seemed every male in dauntless had some sort of savior complex and just loved for Blair to play the damsel in distress, but she was tired of it. She hadn’t hit Ajax back because of her own morals, not because she was scared. She didn’t want there to be bad blood between herself and her siblings. She didn’t want to be the one that initiated any of the violence. But she was done sitting around and letting Ajax throw all the punches. She was done letting Beckham escort her around everywhere like she was his property. She was her own person, and she could damn well take care of herself. Her lips thinned into a flat line as she stood in front of Beck, waiting for him to say something, anything. But the silence lingered, and Blair didn’t have anything else to say, so she shook her head softly, her eyes finding their way to the ground as she turned to walk away. Beck let her go that time. She didn’t imagine he had the heart to try and stop her now.



As Blair walked back towards where she had last seen Christian and Ghost, she was both unsettled and relieved to see that neither of them were still there. Which either meant Christian had lost his temper, or somehow, the pair had managed to part ways without inciting any violence. Puzzled, Blair turned her head from the left, then to the right, wondering where they could have run off to. Before long, she was walking out of the VIP section and back towards the dance floor, wondering if perhaps she would run into anybody else she knew there. Her fingers slowly began fidgeting with her braid and before long, she had pulled her hair free of its elegant styling. It now hung in loose, blonde waves around her face, cascading down her shoulders and over the light blue fabric of her dress. She was rather fond of her dress, it had been a gift from her mother who had not been able to pass it up because it ‘matched Blair’s eyes so perfectly.’ It was true, the deep turquoise fabric was almost indistinguishable from the colors that swirled together in her irises. As Blair let the memory of her mother giving her the dress wash over her, a smile tugged at her lips. She couldn’t help it, it was quite the happy memory. But when Blair’s eyes fell on the sight before her that smile quickly faded. Christian was swaying in the crowd, and for a moment, she had almost questioned whether or not it was him, since the figure she was staring at had his arms wrapped around a girl with fiery red hair.



Blair felt a pain in her chest as she stood there watching. Neither Christian nor Fable had yet noticed her presence, and she wanted to keep it that way. She didn’t know why it hurt the way it did. She trusted Christian, knew that there was likely nothing going on… and yet, that smile of his. The smile that was currently on his lips as he looked at Fable, as if he were with his favorite person in the world… that had been the way that he looked at Blair. She selfishly wanted to believe that she was the only girl he looked at like that, but the sight before her proved her wrong over and over again. He looked happy, relaxed… maybe it was better that way. Maybe it was easier… for Chris to be with someone who wasn’t so chaotic, someone who didn’t disappear all the time, or wind up with inexplicable bruises and associate with secret allies. Maybe this was the way it should be, she thought as her shoulders fell. She turned away from the scene without ever having been spotted by the pair, and that pain in her chest began to fester and burn its way through her rib cage.



As Blair made her way back through the throng of dancing bodies, she began to feel a familiar pressure in the back of her head. A nagging pain, an unwelcomed presence. Her heart beat began to quicken as thoughts raced through her mind too quickly for her to latch onto any of them. Christian’s hand caressing a cheek that was not her own. A pretty red head seated at the Parks’ dinner table. An easy life… and when Christian’s borrowed time finally ran out… it was Fable clutching him in the hospital, Fable who got to enjoy his last years with him. Blonde was replaced with red in all the pictures that forced their way into her head, and then suddenly – glass was breaking. Shattering. Blair halted, her head whipping towards the bar where surprised gasps and murmured curses made themselves heard, as one after the other, all the glass cups began splintering into sharp edged pieces. Their liquid contents spilling everywhere, the sound was like nails on a chalkboard causing such a commotion that exasperated patrons began asking what the hell was going on. Had she done that? Become so lost in her jealousy and pain that she had once again let her mind get the better of her?



She quickly tore her eyes away from the calamity, not wanting to raise any suspicions as tears began pricking at her eyes. A flurry of messy blonde hair and blue silk, Blair pushed through the crowd once again, only to crash into a rather solid frame moments later. Tear rimmed oceans met liquid amber for only the shortest of moments as Blair locked eyes with Ghost. Of course, of all the people she could have run into, she had unintentionally interrupted what seemed to be a fairly intimate moment between Ghost and Vex. She swallowed thickly, debating saying something as Ghost’s honey brown eyes stared at her. But her nerves overtook her once more, and Blair felt that pressure building in the back of her head. She looked behind her, her eyes skimming over the shattered glass on the bar as if to remind herself of the consequences when she let her feelings get away from her. A shaky breath, and then she was gone. Once again, the blonde disappeared into the crowd, only to finally escape it once she reached the bathroom. Ragged breaths shook her whole body as she shut the door behind her, wiping furiously at the tears that had made their presence known. Get it together, Blair. She mentally snarled at herself as she turned on the faucet to splash some cold water on her face.​

 

[Nerdy.]

Charlotte "Charlie" Stark || 20 || Medic || Dauntlessborn

Charlie had stood with Noah so long in the company of those drinking that she began to wonder if you could become at all intoxicated by simply inhaling the smell of alcohol around you. Because Charlie was sure she had breathed in a good portion of alcohol from the amount that Noah's group was drinking. Strangely enough, now that they were as intoxicated as they were, Charlie had become more of a pleasant object to look at occasionally, and otherwise had rather been forgotten. She didn't mind this as much as she had minded the crude remarks and insinuations that she had been suffering with, and Noah was now intoxicated enough that his hands couldn't keep on her even if he tried, and he wasn't trying very hard. She walked when they walked, and replied very shortly back to anyone who talked to her, she took drinks from anyone who handed her one, but handed them to someone else or left them on solitary tables and benches when nobody was looking. She was becoming more and more invisible, and the feeling was causing her to feel more and more comfortable of all things. She breathed a sigh of relief each time Noah tried to do something with her and stumblingly missed his target, whether it be to caress her or to even try and kiss her. She didn't yell or scream at him or make a huge deal or drama out of it, she just avoided what she could and suffered silently with what she couldn't avoid. It was like a game, and Charlie knew that thinking of it as such was better than feeling suffocated and imprisoned. But that wasn't the scary part of the night. Compared to what was to come, Noah was an easy level on a highly complicated game. The harder levels were coming towards her and she wasn't excited for it. She was excited for what was coming much later on, being the dinner with Ghost, Aubrey and Sasha. She couldn't wait to introduce her mother to Ghost, she knew that Sasha would understand the similarities of Henry in Ghost, and how if Charlie was with him it meant she felt safe. However, she was very nervous to have Aubrey realize that she was in a relationship - of sorts - with Ghost. Aubrey and Ghost clashed a lot, and she was aware that neither one liked the other. But they were some of the closest people to her right now, and she hoped they'd be able to put aside their distaste for each other when it came down to it.

That was a little concerning for Charlie to think about. But that wasn't what scared her. What scared her was the tall, commanding and overwhelming presence of her father - not her deceased father whom she had loved dearly, but her biological father whom had broken into her life as she had become a teen. Jeremy Daniels, beloved and the most popular leader in Dauntless. Jeremy Daniels, the man that every person in Dauntless either aspired to be, or aspired to be with... He always had a new women with him, he left broken hearted Dauntless women wherever he went, he could do anything he liked and he would be celebrated and supported. But nobody knew the truth, and Charlie wondered... if they did know the truth then would they think worse of Jeremy or better? Charlie felt her spirit drop as she let the sounds of the party become background noise and fade into the back of her head. The people she was with now, they had done similar things that Jeremy had done to her, they had beaten her senseless, they had grouped around her in bathrooms and beaten her into the floor, into a mirror, into a toilet... They had touched her and made fun of her, they had broken her in spirit. Even Caspian had not listened to her when he had forced her at the visiting party, he had used her when he wanted to. But here she was with the four bullies that had beaten her senseless, and she felt little fear from them, what they used to do to her was terrifying but she didn't fear them anymore. Caspian had become her closest friend, and now he was gone, but she felt comfort in the person he had been in her life. Jeremy was none of these things. Jeremy was just as terrifying as he had ever been, and he had not changed, Charlie was not safe from him, and Charlie felt nothing but terror with him. Even thought Ghost had saved her, even though he had managed to hurt the person who she wished out of her life, she was so sure that somehow, Jeremy would come back.

Maybe she shouldn't have thought these things, as if on cue with her thoughts, Jeremy Daniels was making his way over to the group that Charlie stood with. Charlie hadn't noticed him until it was too late, and there was no time and nowhere to hide. She froze in place, eyes wide and lips squeezed together, her body rigid and skin cold, the terror from her past and from her nightmares was in front of her now. Jeremy at first didn't notice Charlie, he was addressing his four closest soldiers and posse. They were laughing, Jeremy was hitting each of them with friendly nature on the backs and shoulders. Please just leave. Please don't look at me. Please don't talk to me. Please... please... But the odds did not seem in her favour as the man whom had hurt her so badly that she could never forgive him, finally he looked at her, and his eyes flickered with surprise and anger. Charlie swallowed but her throat felt squeezed shut and dry. That's when Noah saved her, and maybe, just maybe, she would have to actually do something nice for him one day, as she couldn't thank him enough for coming forward. "Jeremy, this is Charlie, my date for tonight, don't you think she's pretty?" Noah slurred with drunken swagger as he wrapped his arm around Charlie's waist and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Charlie wanted to run away from both of them, but something clicked in her, if she actually acted like she was with Noah, Jeremy might never suspect Ghost as the perpetrator for what happened, since he might stay under the impression that Charlie was with Noah. So Charlie bit down on her lip hard, then tried to smile, linking her fingers with Noah and leaning into him, even letting him stroke her hair and waist. Jeremy frowned, his eyes narrowed and looking at Noah like he was a piece of meat, he took a few moments before answering, ignoring Charlie completely. "I hope you enjoy the rest of the party. Don't pass out just yet." He said, before turning and leaving abruptly. Finally Charlie was able to breathe, and she began to shiver and shake as bile rose up in her throat, she began to feel dizzy, and was surprised that when she untangled herself from Noah he didn't try to stop her, nor did he even notice her leaving. Charlie began to run, almost falling over her own feet as she ran towards the nearest bathroom, her vision began to blur and the pain in her chest was unbearable. She heard someone call her name but it didn't register in her mind that she should check who it was. Instead she just knew that she needed to get to a safe space. Finally she found a bathroom and she rushed in, barely even noticing the other girl in the bathroom, and she rushed into one of the cubicles, shutting the door behind her but being unable to lock it as her body gave way and her knees collapsed, falling to the floor she felt her stomach lurch and that's when she began to throw up. Given that she hadn't eaten much, it was mostly water, and Charlie didn't throw up much. She simply sat there shivering and the cold tiles of the bathroom slowly began to calm her down. That was why it didn't dawn on her that the door had swung open slightly and she made eye contact with the other girl who was in the room, Blair.

Interacting with: Blair WanderLust.

 

[WanderLust.]

Maverick Maddox // Male// 18// Dauntless Born // Instructor
Interacting With: Randi Sanctuaryforall1

Randi’s first inclination, that some creep was stalking some of the girls in the initiate program, was understandable. However, the circumstances were far too suspicious. No lowlife would venture all the way out to this part of the river to discard of some simple stalking evidence. Besides, as Maverick continued to leaf through the photographs, he noticed another familiar face. A male this time. The smiling face of Finn Day stared back at him, and Maverick’s jaw locked as the shadow of a memory flittered through his brain. “Hang on a second…” Handing the pile of photos over to Randi, Maverick began wading farther into the water, deeper, to reach some of the less salvageable folders before they were carried away by the current.



The second he reached the first folder, he flipped it open, lacking any sort of delicacy as a sickening feeling began to twist its way into his gut. He hadn’t been able to make out the hand written notes scrawled with the photographs, but these papers were type written, the ink bleeding but still legible. They were not letters but numbers… times… times that Maverick recognized. The last time Maverick had seen Harper’s younger brother had been in a simulation room. Finn had managed to evade his fear simulation in a surprisingly short amount of time… suspiciously short. So short, in fact, that Maverick had taken it upon himself to add an additional minute to Finn’s time to shepherd him away from any prying eyes that might have suspected the worst. A divergency accusation was practically a death sentence here in dauntless, and Maverick had wanted no part of inadvertently exposing one. He had, of course, suspected that day, that Finn was a divergent. The older male never would have dreamed of reporting such a thing though.



He had never understood the animosity towards divergents, if anything, he found it admirable to be able to find common ground with more than one faction. Maverick himself had always been so set in his ways, rigid as a nail, born and bred dauntless. He often wondered what his life would have been like had he been born in another faction. He refused to believe that divergents were dangerous simply because they didn’t fit a system that someone else had created. But if this was really all about divergents then… Maverick’s eyes flicked to Randi who seemed to be piecing together exactly what he had, and there was panic in those jade eyes of hers. For a moment, as their gazes locked in fire and ice, Maverick wondered if Randi was about to run away. The look on her face suggested she might bolt at any moment, but Maverick held steady, his gaze nothing but understanding as he wordlessly approached her, the Manila folder still dripping in his hand.



“Blair… Finn… You… you’ve had the fasted simulation times in the class.” He spoke softly, as if he were piecing it together himself, laying it all out so that he understood. He held out the second folder, opening it so Randi could see the bleeding numbers, as he pointed to one in particular. “That time right there… that was Finn’s. Only…. It wasn’t.” He stopped for a moment, eyes searching Randi’s to see if she truly feared that Maverick would expose her. “His time was actually a minute shorter, but this…” he tapped the soaking paper again “this is what I manually entered that day. So whoever it is doesn’t have all the facts… only the instructors records, which means they don’t know anything for sure yet.” Maverick was reassuring her in his own way, dancing around the simple fact that he was certain they both knew but were too afraid to voice aloud. Randi was a divergent, and Maverick would go to his grave keeping her secret, and all the others too.​

 

[Nerdy.]

Christian "Chris" Parks || 16 || Initiate || Dauntlessborn

When Christian heard Fable offer that they don't hang out, he knew he had done her a disservice by having his mind elsewhere. He had originally asked Fable if she wanted to hang out with him because he had gotten the feeling that she was not okay, or something had happened, and he wanted to protect her if he could, from anything she was feeling. Thus, when he saw how his words and actions caused Fable to say those things, he felt sad about how he was treating her, she deserved to be treated well, kindly and with care. He took a deep breath as he tried to figure out how he would best fix his wrong again, when Fable asked him if he were okay. He slowly let out his breath, leaning his head down slightly as he tried to relax the tensions in his shoulders, and his forehead bumped gently into Fable's, who was looking up at him. For a brief moment he lost himself in her multicolored eyes because they were so unusual and beautiful. Blair's eyes were blue like the sky, and Christian's also mirrored the sky, though a more overcast version. Fable's eyes were like a whole world, one green, one blue, they were so easy to get lost in that Christian almost forgot to answer Fable, instead he stood there, holding her in his arms and his breath coming softly through his nose, only remembering to answer after a long silent moment. "I'm worried about Blair... and..." Christian trailed off, as he glanced away from Fable's eyes into the crowd around them, thinking about how he felt. He had a timer in his body now, a short one, and he felt the burden of that. "I'm sick, or dying actually, and I don't really know how to feel about that right now. I am not the smartest and have never really needed to make plans before, but now... there's a lot to think about, and I admit I may feel a bit..." Christian felt his body tensing again and he tried desperately to relax, his thumb nervously rubbing Fable's hand as he needed the soothing gesture himself. He gritted his teeth together as he thought about how if he died, then Blair would be alone and they wouldn't be able to grow up in Dauntless together. He felt a painful stabbing in his chest as he thought about this, and he had to take a little while of harsh breaths to calm down again, all the while feeling guilty for leaving Fable waiting for each answer so long. "I don't know how I feel, it's usually much simpler than this." He admitted, finally realizing that would be the easiest and most honest way of answering her question. Then he remembered her original offer to stop dancing with him, and he knew he couldn't let her do that. "I would like to keep dancing with you though, if that's okay, loneliness isn't a pleasant feeling right now." He said, and watched as Fable nodded along with him, and they continued to dance.

Maybe it was the fact that Christian had brought up his own illness, or maybe Fable and Christian felt no need for conversation to feel comfortable, but the two danced together with little to no conversation or words. It was nice though, and Christian felt himself beginning to smile and laugh, especially as the songs went from slow to fast and jittery, causing Fable and Christian to often mess up with dancing and ended up just laughing. Christian could feel his cheeks were warm and his body felt much more relaxed now after some time with Fable, that even all the fears and concerns that had been deep within them moments before were sitting largely in the back of his brain rather than at the front. But as the dancing went on, both of them began to tire, and Christian could feel it in an entirely new way, as his body felt pain, an unusual symptom to feel when all he had done is danced. But his body was dying, slowly, quickly... he didn't know, and he could feel how it changed slightly. He wiped his hand through his hair and felt that it felt a little damp, and he realized it was exerting him somewhat to do this. He looked over at Fable, who was now with a smile on her face, which he was glad to see. "I was wondering if you might want to play pool? I'm not terrible but I'm also not very good, but I thought it could be fun. I heard that pool is sometimes played in Abnegation?" He said, pointing towards an area that had some pool tables. But before Fable could answer, Christian and Fable had their attention whipped to the side as they saw a familiar face and body fly past them, looking quite bad, terrified, sick. Charlotte Stark had run past them and her body jolted as if on a ship, her skin pale to the point of almost being green, and her hands clenched up to her chest as if she were in pain. Christian had known Charlie all his life, and he had never seen her like this, she was always slow, gentle, kind, caring, smiling, and reserved. But she looked nothing like that now, and Christian felt deeply in his soul that something was wrong. "Charlie?" He called, not getting an answer and not getting even a look to show she'd heard him. He began to look around, checking if someone was chasing her or something was wrong, but it seemed like she was running from nothing.

He looked at Fable, as the two of them had seen the medic simply bolt off towards a bathroom. "I think we should go check on her, she looked unwell, almost scared. She might be hurt." Christian said with a deep concern in his voice. He knew that he would go after her, check if she was okay, but he didn't want to desert Fable, and he didn't know if she would want to go, which caused rather a concerning decision he would have to make if Fable didn't want to chase after Charlie with him. However he would never have to make that decision, as Fable nodded enthusiastically, and Christian could clearly see the concern in her eyes as well. Christian turned towards where Charlie had run off, he almost went to grab Fable's hand, thinking that she was Blair for a moment, but quickly stopped himself, instead putting his hands beside him and rushing with Fable towards the bathroom that Charlie had run into. That was, he would have rushed in only remembering right before he did that it was a female who had just run in, and she likely didn't want a male lumbering in behind her, heck she might have been running from one. Christian stood back and thought about it, finally making a decision that it wouldn't be right to chase after a woman into the bathroom. He looked at Fable, who had also stopped with him. "Would you mind going in to check on her? I don't want to make her uncomfortable or cause any harm by coming in. But if you don't feel up to it, I can go in." He said, watching Fable as she was caught a little off guard when he said he didn't want to go in. Christian immediately felt guilty, he had promised to spend time with Fable today, and here he was asking her to go do something for him that could be hard, especially for someone she wasn't well acquainted with like he was, and to do that without him. "I will really owe you, Fable." Christian said. "I promise to make it up to you." He continued, reaching forward and holding her shoulder to show he was serious, before waiting for her response. When she agreed, he felt half of his burdens lift and his muscles relax slightly. "Thank you. You're amazing." He said .

Interacting with: Fable Sanctuaryforall1

Griffon Mordo || 17 16 || Initiate || Abnegation Transfer

Griffon smiled widely as Bloom accepted his request, he felt a sense of connection to her, more so than most of the other trainers. Charlie being a kindred spirit also, although he thought of her as her designated role, medic, rather than trainer. So he saw her in a much more medical sense rather than Bloom whom he saw much closer during his fear simulations. Although Bloom had only come into training recently, he had immediately gravitated towards her, like an older sister feel. He had never gravitated so well towards older boys and men, but women he felt much more comfortable with. Maybe that came from something in his past? Maybe it didn't. Griffon had no idea. He wanted to find out though. That was one of the reasons that he was asking Bloom for this time in the fear simulation area, that he would be able to go deep into his past where he would be able to find more pieces of information. He knew that the simulations used memory and imagination and their own technology to go into his fears, but that was just it, Griffon didn't know where his own fears came from. Such as the last one he had done was on his fear of dogs, big dogs, and he'd never understood why he feared them, but his fear simulation had reminded him of a time when he was chased by a big dog in the factionless area, and he knew it wouldn't have been exactly like the simulation, but after talking it through with Cassidy, she had affirmed that it was similar to where they had lived and what had happened to him as a boy. Thus, his idea had transformed so far that he had felt brave enough to ask Bloom to administer it to him. Truthfully he wasn't excited about being afraid, about facing his fears, his demons and his unknown memories. But he wanted to know more, he needed to know more... "Thank you Bloom, I trust you and I'm glad you feel comfortable to do this with me. I trust your discretion." He added on, knowing there was a likelihood that Bloom might find out about Cassidy being his biological sister, that she might figure out his factionless days and many other things. He hoped he would not disappoint Cassidy. He would make it up to her if he did though.

Bloom and Griffon walked through the rest of the parade and party as they made there way towards the training area, and Griffon felt a twinge of guilt within him. "Bloom, I don't want to take you away from the party if you are still enjoying it! Please, since you are doing such a good service for me, can I take you anywhere? Or if you like I could simply meet you at the simulation room whenever it suits you." He said, watching as Bloom laughed the way she always did, a smile, a warm feeling. She said it was fine, but Griffon felt it was unfair that he was taking her away with him, and away from any friends or partying she might want to do. He straightened his vest slightly and looked at Bloom seriously, though with a small smile. "I will have to find a way to make up for this later then!" Griffon continued on with Bloom, feeling happy that she had and was happy to do this with him. He felt confident, above the fear that he had been feeling before, and now had a slight bounce in his step. He brought his hand up to his vest pocket again, patting the journal that he always brought with him, and felt some comfort that it was with him. Whatever he would see in the fear simulation he would write in here, and he would show Cassidy. She would always help him with crossing out things that were wrong, clearing things up and making it more real. Griffon would never be able to thank Cassidy enough for how she looked after him, but she always looked at him with such admiration, and always told him that he never owed her anything, that she would forever owe him her life. Griffon didn't understand, but he knew that it didn't matter. They would protect each other with their lives. It didn't take long before Bloom and Griffon were at the simulation rooms and Bloom was unlocking the door. She was kind and lovely as they entered in, speaking in a soft yet joyful tone to explain what he would be going through, and that she wished she could take the fear out of the simulations, but it wasn't possible. As Griffon jumped up on the chair he smiled. "It's okay, it only lasts a while, and I don't mind the nightmares too much. My dreams are usually quite boring and senseless." Griffon watched with a smile as Bloom got the thing ready, and walked forward to administer it. "Thanks Bloom." Griffon said, as she pierced his neck and administered it to him.

---

There was smoke in the air, putrid and unpleasant smelling smoke that coated your throat and caused a scratch in your throat that wouldn't leave for days. The reason for the smoke? A train had fallen off of the rails while going through the factionless area, and it had been no accident, it had been a planned bombing on a bridge, and it had gone through so well. Griffon stood on one of the carriages that was on the ground, watching as factionless poured over the train looking for resources, weapons, food, and clothing. Griffon and Cassandra were meant to get into the spots that were too small for adults. Griffon looked at Cass, whose hand he held in his own, she was small, scared, thin, she was very young, only 6 or 7, and wasn't ready for this level of involvement. But their parents had insisted and now they were here, in scrappy clothes not warm enough to keep them from the cold, Cas was shivering desperately, and Griffon felt nothing, but knew it wasn't good for him. He took a deep breath, pulling up a cloth over his face, and doing the same to Cassidy, to help with the cold and the yucky smoke that filled the air. They slipped into the carriage in front of them, Griffon helping little Cas in, making sure she didn't touch any hot metal or sharp objects. He knew that they needed to be as quiet as possible, because although most of the factionless here worked for his parents, some sought to sneak in, and usually brought weapons and were very hostile. Griffon and Cas knew who they could trust, and if they didn't recognize people they were meant to run. Griffon had a gun but he hoped he wouldn't have to use it. He hated them. He and Cas crept through the carriage, stepping over broken furniture and resources. The kids couldn't lift and carry much, so they had a few things they were allowed to get, and then they were meant to map the area so that others could get to the right place for the better resources. They had learned to stay silent and not speak to each other, and held onto each other hands tightly so they wouldn't get taken away or lost from each other.

It was unpleasant, and Griffon was afraid as they walked over dead bodies. These people shouldn't have died, and yet now they were dead, and Griffon felt tears drip down his cheeks, and he tried to stop Cassandra from seeing them, but that was nearly impossible. "It's okay, we just have to take these and get out." Griffon said, as he reached the end of the carriage which had papers locked in containers. Cass was to open the containers, having very nimble fingers even at such a young age. Griffon was meant to watch out for her. He waited as she did this, and his hand hovered over his gun. That's when the gun shots started. Cas screamed and Griffon froze as outside the carriages he could see gunfire and people yelling loudly. This wasn't good. Griffon himself screamed as the gunshots came through the windows of the carriage, shattering them and causing him and Cas to fall to the ground terrified. He still couldn't touch the gun on the side of him, because he was too scared. The gun could hurt someone. He'd seen it happen. But he didn't want to hurt anyone, even bad people. But he was even more scared that he might have to. Thus, when someone entered the carriage, and Griffon looked up at them with no gun in hand, not even a threat, he never would have expected them to shoot. But they did. Griffon and Cas screamed as the man shot towards them, yelling at them to leave and die. Griffon and Cas tried to get up, but the carriage was fallen over, the doors were trapped under rubble, and the windows were sharp and broken. They had nowhere to go. They stood at the back, Cas hid behind Griffon, and he still couldn't grab his gun. He just couldn't, his hand would freeze. He watched as the man laughed, lifting up the gun, and Griffon couldn't do anything but scream as the man shot, and Griffon felt his body fling back, Cas screamed, and his ears rung. Although Griffon didn't know what pain felt like, he could feel some of this, his body ached, his chest was almost screaming, like what he imagined a tear to feel like, it dulled quickly though. Blood pooled on his little chest and he could barely move as the man grabbed Cas from the floor, laughing as he said something about keeping her. Griffon felt his heart squeeze, and although his body wasn't responding well, he finally found the courage he needed to grab his gun, and he stood up as the man turned around, and although Griffon's body was shaking and seemed to be falling, he lifted the gun. "Give me back, my sister!" He yelled, and shot his gun, watching as the bullet tore through the mans neck. The man dropped Cas, who ran to Griffon and began to say something about switching. Griffon couldn't hear though, as he began to close his eyes, no longer afraid, as he knew he'd protected his sister. The man now was on the ground, dead or dying. No one would hurt his sister.

---

Griffon woke up, breathing harshly and gripping his chest. He sat up, and forgetting Bloom was there, he opened his shirt quickly. As if he were still in the nightmarish simulation, he gazed down at his chest, at the gnarly and large scar that lay on his chest. Had that all actually happened?

Interacting with: Bloom Sanctuaryforall1

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Vex

Mood: Seductive

Location: Party

Interactions: Ghost

Something was off with Ghost and she found it both amusing and annoying as the two of them danced in circles, or more she danced around him as her stepped from side to side just barely in rhythm with the music. Her amusement sparked from the idea that she could easily kill him at any moment even if they were on a crowded dance floor. He was leaving himself incredibly open and it was more than obvious that his senses were not as sharp as she had previously witnessed them to be. Similarly her annoyance sparked at the fact that she had been given orders to attempt recruiting him and this was the state he was in. It was far from optimal seeing as Dr. Munroe preferred his people sharp and ready for anything but she had to wonder if she could perhaps use this to her advantage in some way.

His ramblings left her with a strong urge to cut out his tongue but there was also something slightly adorable about how he droned on and on and on about drugs and her makeup and his next engagement. When he leaned towards her and began whispering to her about the day before when they had both been somewhere neither of them should be her eyes flicked to the side slightly and she listened to him very closely. He admitted to her that he was there because he liked to steal but that answer didn't sit right with her. She was well trained and knew when something more was going on, or at least she tended to more than some others. Ghost had been up to something yesterday and it was more than he was saying but she didn't mind because they all had their secrets some of which she would kill to keep that way.

Tilting her head upwards with her lush lips just barely caressing his ear as she pulled him closer to her she whispered, "And I was there to test myself." Her voice was calm, seductive, and matter of fact. Lies were as easy as breathing for her but she guessed that much like she had seen through Ghost's deception he would see through hers because they both were far from fools. If he wouldn't tell her his truth then she would meet him with the same kindness. Truths, secrets, and trust were all weapons that could be used to save or destroy a person, a lesson Vex had learned long ago.

As their dance continued Vex spun out and back into Ghost, pressing herself against his body and keeping him from swaying too much as she did so. Her nails sensually dragged across his back and over the tops of his arms as she moved in rhythm to the music as if it were one with her soul. As she moved around him in her dance she dragged one of her fingers over his neck, across his jugular, and under his chin before giving him a wink that displayed so many unspoken words. As he pulled her close and asked if she trusted him her eyes narrowed and she glanced up at him like a feline deciding if it was best to strike now or wait. "Trust is a funny thing Ghost." She replied with a purr to her voice. "I could say I trust you but truthfully it isn't my trust you are looking to earn." She informed him with a hint of mischief to her tone. "The real question is are you interested enough to take the jump and find favor with those who have true power?" She inquired, one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows arched in question. "Or will you shy away for fear of what they can do?"

Aviator

code by Stardust Galaxy

Randi

Mood: Concerned

Location: River

Interactions: Mav

For a moment she felt like she couldn't breathe. There was no way she was divergent, she couldn't be, she was Dauntless through and through. But as Mav held out the folder full of dripping papers and rows of numbers she swallowed and almost felt like she might choke. Her head spun for a moment and she felt like she was swimming in a sea of nonsense. Thinking back to her fear simulations she remembered each of them and how she escaped, it seemed normal to her at the time but perhaps it wasn't as normal as she believed it to be. "Mav...Mav I'm not." She looked at him for a moment fearing the worst but then seeing his eyes and knowing he would never do anything to hurt her. "I can't be..." She trailed off and thought about it. "I...I need to talk to Freight about this, he will know, he knows me better than anyone. If I was Divergent he wouldn't keep it from me." She affirmed and believed with her whole heart that her uncle would trust her enough to make her aware of such life threatening information.

She looked at Finn's scores and wondered where in this river her own had drifted off too. "Maybe it was a mistake? Maybe they were looking at me as like a control group? A base for what Dauntless should be?" She suggested but it was easy to tell by her voice that she wasn't convinced by anything she was saying. "Mav I don't want to say anything for sure until I have spoken with my uncle." She informed the young man who was still standing shin deep in the river. "I'm not stupid...I know what this might mean for me...but I need to know if Freight knows or not." She admitted, not wanting to lie to Mav. "If he does then he has been lying to me for god knows how long and that isn't something...that isn't something he has a right to do no matter what." She pointed out as she sank to the rocky shore line, the soggy manila folder resting on her knees as she looked over the numbers again and her eyes traced Finn's face. Her gaze then fell on the photos of her and Blair and she felt her heart race at the idea that the three of them had such a dangerous target on their backs.

She took a moment to think through all she knew so far and process it to the best of her abilities. "Does Finn know?" She asked and looked up at Mav. "When you fixed his time did you tell him?" She clarified and hoped Mav said yes. She would hate if the instructor, her dear Mav, had sent sweet Finn out into the dangerous world without telling him the truth of what he suspected him to be. Withholding the truth, especially when it matters in a situation like this, was one of the worst crimes a person could commit in Randi's eyes. It was like sending a weaponless warrior out to face a line of machine guns all primed to fire.

Her mind raced as she did her best to try and figure out if Blair knew. It was pretty clear that the answer was yes, especially with how elusive Blair had been of late. The blonde had barely been around since the start of training and Randi had believed it was because of the stress of initiation, Chris, and her family but now the pieces slid into place and Randi could see clearly that Blair had been carrying the weight of her divergence. The platinum blonde wished Blair had told her, wished her friend had trusted her enough to help her, but at the same time her heart twisted with understanding. Randi wasn't sure what to do she just knew that the fewer people who found out the truth about her, the better.

Jade orbs looked up at Mav with burning urgency as she gathered the files together. "We need to get rid of these." She stated firmly as she got up and began collecting all the files around them. "We need to make sure the evidence of this is gone." She added and trotted over to her purse. "The fewer people who know about this the safer we can be. More people already know about this than is safe." Her voice was firm as she shook her head a pulled two lighters from her purse. Once she instantly started attempting to crack open so they could drip the fuel inside on the files to allow them to burn despite being soaked.

WanderLust.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Shayla

Mood: Focused

Location: Tattoo Parlor

Interactions: Cas, Lainey

Her hands worked with great precision as she added fine details to the petals of her tattoo design and shaded the bones of the teeth. She was perfectly in her zone, the rest of the world had disappeared and she was at peace with her art and herself. It was absolute heaven until the ring of the parlor bell at the front door snapped her back to reality and she remembered her reasons for retreating here in the first place. Glancing over at the front lobby of the tattoo parlor Shayla noticed that the two of the three people who entered were familiar to her. Cas and Lainey were standing at the different display cases looking at the art one could decide to get if they had a spur of the moment desire to get a new tattoo. There was another figure standing with them who the ebony haired artist could only assume was Lainey's brother Sebastian, the sibling her housemate was always talking about.

She watched them from her little corner as she continued to work on her design, not yet feeling the energy or motivation to approach but curious about what they were each having done. Based on where they were going and whose station they ended up at Shayla could tell what exactly they were having done. She wasn't super familiar with Cas yet but it did piqué her interest to see the short haired initiate being guided towards the henna station. It wasn't necessarily uncommon for people to get henna but the shop did tend to sell more tattoos to initiates than henna. Henna as an art was beautiful and Shay had learned a few things from the shops henna artist that made for quick but beautiful designs but knew she still had much to learn about the art itself.

As about an hour or so passed and Cas finished up Shay felt it was time that she at least act semi civil and get up to greet the girls she had gotten ready for the day with. Flipping her thick sketch pad closed and storing her pencils un a drawer Shay got to her feet and walked barefoot across the shop to where Cas was standing beside Lainey. "You chose a beautiful design." She mentioned as casually as she could but she knew it must have seemed forced much like her small smile. She was not big on social interaction but she knew she needed to at least be polite with her housemate and Cas. "Henna is a unique and underappreciated choice." She added as she did her best to recover and give a bit more genuine smile. "I think you wear it well."

Turning to Lainey who was currently being worked on by one of her fellow artists Shay glanced over at the tattoo being etched into her skin. "Nice line work Demi." She uttered to the artist as she looked at the tattoo closely. "Lainey must be keeping incredibly still for you." She added and looked up at the brunette with an approving nod. It could be an absolute nightmare to do line work when a client couldn't or wouldn't sit still for it but Lainey seemed to be handling any pain she felt like a champ as she barely seemed to wince while the needle vibrated against her skin. Demi was always quick to keep the area nice and clean as the needle worked so it made for a great display of the art in progress. "Cas come over here, it is a better angle." Shayla suggested and knew it was a perfect angle to see the tattoo being worked on without affecting the lighting or getting in the artists elbow space.

Nerdy. WanderLust.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Thorn

Mood: Goofy

Location: Party

Interactions: Aubrey

A wide smile plastered itself across Thorn's face as Aubrey seemed genuinely excited by the options he had suggested and seemed to want to do each of them if they had the time. He hated how indecisive he was at times but with Aubrey he was worried to suggest something too boring because compared to her he was pretty boring. Aubrey was bright, bubbly, bouncing with energy. Of course she had her inner demons and her own issues, as had been seen through her panic attack, but she still seemed to make the life of those around her so interesting as if each step could be some sort of new adventure. Thorn did not view himself in that way at all. He had learned to take cautious steps through life, to be someone in the background because that was the best way for him to survive. If his father couldn't hear him, if his uncle didn't see him, then maybe he could get through the day unscathed. The only times he could think of truly trying to stand out and make some noise was when the wrath of the two men fell on him mother, then Thorn would do anything to be noticed, he would wave a red cape in front of those charging bulls to draw them away from her. Spending time with Aubrey was refreshing though because it felt like he didn't need to wish to be more than what he was, he could just appreciate the strength of someone else who lives life differently than him.

As the two of them sat at the tattoo show sipping their drinks he smiled and nodded along with Aubrey's excited commentary while he sipped on his small watermelon and mint mixture that he was by some miracle able to balance in one hand. "I have been trying to get in the books for that artist for months now." He informed Aubrey as she gushed over the snake tattoo that was highlighting the man's unique scars. "She specializes in animal tattoos and I am hoping to get a badger on my chest." He informed Aubrey while his eyes gazed in awe at the incredibly detailed scales of the snake being shown on a screen for those not near enough to the stage. He didn't mention that unlike the man on stage Thorn desired to get a tattoo to cover a scar rather than highlight it. Some of his scars he embraced because they came from working in the blacksmith shop, others he wished to never lay eyes on again because he hated the fact that his old man's mark was permanently apart of his skin. The tattoo over his chest would actually hide a scar left from a broken bottle his father had hit him with about a year and a half ago. Every time Thorn took off his shirt he was forced to be reminded of that day and the fact that his mom had received a black eye before he managed to get between the two. It had been one of the few times he had ever fought back with the intent to hurt his father and the man had a broken fist from Thorn catching his punch and squeezing until he heard a crack.

The memories and shame of that moment sent a chill down the young freckled boys spine as he pulled his drink away from his lips and gently pressed his thumb to his brow and faked a brain freeze. "Man these things are cold." He chuckled and turned to look at Aubrey with a goofy grin. "Still enjoying yours?" He asked and could tell by her happy sips that she was. Soon after the show wrapped up and Aubrey pointed out the time and the fact that they would likely only have time for one out of the two remaining activities. Taking a moment to think about it Thorn playfully flexed his muscles and replied, "I think the strong man competition could be fun, who knows, one of us might win a prize." As he spoke he made his bicep dance, his face instantly turning red with embarrassment as he did but he hoped it would make Aubrey laugh. Due to his lack of love for fighting many tended to over look the fact that Thorn had quite a lot of muscle on him from working the forge and making weapons.

Nerdy.

 

[Aviator]

Ghost // Male // Age 18 // Training Instructor // Erudite to Dauntless​

A tide of goosebumps radiated outward from wherever Anika’s flickering fingers touched, first Ghost’s shoulder blades, then over the gentle swells of his deltoids, and lastly across the delicate contours of his throat, lingering on the soft, vulnerable patch of skin at the hollow. “Hey! Stop that, it tickles,” he said, trying to summon some of the effortless command with which he usually delegated tasks to initiates, because that would have been a normal Ghost thing to do and he didn’t want Anika to know how much the substances were affecting him. Instead, his voice was the auditory equivalent of a child playing dress-up. To compensate, he tried batting Anika’s hand away, only for her to move it away just in time so that his arm swished cleanly through air. She winked at him in a way that suggested she could have moved a lot faster if she had wanted to, but she’d rather let Ghost think he stood a chance of swatting her hand away before cruelly dashing those hopes.
What happened next was a mysterious blur of events that Ghost wasn’t sure was real or imagined. An unseen force slammed into him from behind and to the left, causing him to stumble for balance as if he were far more wasted than he really was. He very well might have toppled over if not for Anika’s imperious fingers tightening on his elbow, like a python’s coils closing around the neck of a small prey. Blooms of color burst in his vision as Ghost whipped his head around too fast to catch a glimpse of the source of the disturbance. Gazing back at him with eyes as wide and glassy as saucers was Blair Avalon. An overhead light filter transformed her cerulean dress into an impossibly deep shade of Aegean blue, refracting off her pale skin like icy embers. The muscles in Blair’s throat jumped as she swallowed, and Ghost wondered how it would feel to stroke her skin as Anika had done to him. He wanted to say something to Blair, anything, though no specific words popped into his head. At the same time he was dearly afraid that if he spoke he would miss whatever she had come to say, so he stayed silent.
It dawned on him that the last time he had seen Blair—however many minutes or hours ago that was—her hair had been cinched into ruthless order, but now it hung free and limp around her shoulders. Before Ghost could comment on this observation, Blair was suddenly turning on her heel, hair fanning behind her with the unexpected force of the movement and nearly snapping him across the face. Ghost’s objection was frozen on his lips as she sprinted across the dance floor, away from him, disappearing like a half-remembered dream among the sea of swinging hips and jacketed elbows. He squinted after her, trying to track her path even after there was no trace of Blair to be found, because something about her had seemed overtly sad even if she wasn’t crying and Ghost couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and she shouldn’t have to deal with that on her own, not when he could help solve the problem—
The lines around Anika’s mouth were tight with disapproval, though whether it was directed at Blair for interrupting their conversation or at Ghost for allowing his attention to be diverted, he wasn’t sure. Unless the whole thing had been just a figment of his imagination? Blair’s appearance had been too fleeting and inexplicable to be real, perhaps. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert that turned out to be just a mirage, maybe the vision of Blair had turned out to be a manifestation of Ghost’s deepest, most secretive desires, yet lacking in anything substantial.
He didn’t realize that he was still combing the crowd for a phantom trace of Blair until he was abruptly faced with Anika again. Her fingers were curled around the point of his chin, having physically wrested his gaze back onto herself. His brain felt swampy, his thoughts all sticking together; he had lost the thread of this conversation so many times it was like picking apart a tapestry. The “there” she was referring to was the laboratory, Ghost remembered. That was what they’d been discussing before Blair’s intrusion, real or not. Testing yourself… on what? The volume of Ghost’s thoughts suddenly soared with the addition of this latest puzzle piece to the grand mystery of Anika Vex. He dearly wanted to ask the question burning on his tongue but knew to do so would be indecent; Ghost hated when other people pried into his business. Besides, he liked the challenge of having something to figure out for himself.
Anika’s answer was deliberately vague, and she was surely omitting parts of the reason for her presence at the Erudite laboratory yesterday, but he didn’t think it was without a truthful foundation. Ghost refused to believe that withholding information was the same as outright lying. Truth is a very personal, intimate thing, and much of the time others aren’t entitled to the keys to the innermost depths of one’s soul. Although, if he were being genuine, he didn’t know whether it would be less difficult to hand over those keys to a near stranger such as Anika Vex, who probably couldn’t care less and might even be intrigued by some of the stuff he was hiding, or to someone closer like Charlie, whose disappointment he risked and who would view him differently every day afterward and reevaluate him accordingly, taking careful note of the discrepancies between Ghost’s carefully crafted persona and his real self.
For a long minute, neither of them said anything. As she circled and wove around him on the dance floor, Anika tipped her head on a peculiar angle and studied him, as if he were a painting in a museum and she couldn’t remember the artist. Ghost, on the other hand, risked dizziness by trying to track Anika’s smoky movements too diligently, so he let his attention drift to external stimuli. Smells of sweat and cheap perfume mingled on the dance floor, creating a cocktail that was almost overpowering. The clatter of stiletto heels stomping to the beat was barely perceptible over a crashing bass, so loud that Ghost’s being was threatened with dissolution. Sheer garments were crinkled and plastered against skin, and he found himself openly staring at the succulent, latex-covered thighs of a woman over Anika’s shoulder in a way that he never would have done while sober. Come to think of it, Anika’s thighs weren’t inconsiderable, either…
So much time passed that, when Anika finally did speak, Ghost gave a jump of surprise. Perhaps it was due to the sheer volume of her voice. Or perhaps because she was standing behind him at the time, out of his field of view. Or just maybe it was the way that the soft folds of her lips brushed his ear, fluttering across the skin with unbearably light pressure. Whatever the case, Ghost cringed away. He thought that he should have felt infuriated with Anika for teasing him so successfully, or horribly embarrassed with himself for letting her, but instead he giggled good-naturedly, taking a guilty pleasure in her attentions that he usually wouldn’t have allowed himself to indulge. When he was with Blair or Charlie, Ghost was used to doing all of the teasing and needling, but his was a more witty, bitter-edged brand, not with half this level of seductive physicality. A warm and darkly bright sensation kindled in his stomach with dull insistence.
“What makes you think I want power?” Ghost responded when he’d collected himself. He was equivocating, answering a question with a question. “Smart people don’t lust after power. Do you know why that is, Anika? Because there’s no such thing as enough power once you get hooked. It’s the drug trip that never ends.” Despite the conviction in his words, Ghost did want power. But he didn’t want Anika to know that, for fear of the subtle psychological advantage it might give her. And yet power wasn’t the thing he wanted most. No, he put a higher price on freedom than on power. The freedom to take another hit of cannabis without having to worry about his judgment being exploited. The freedom to show up to training in suits of silk and velvet when the unofficial dress code was a black tank top and joggers. The freedom to impulsively flirt with Anika Vex and make clandestine deals without jeopardizing a lofty position in society if caught. When you weren’t up so high, you had less distance to fall. And everyone fell eventually. Ghost had had his shot at power when Malia Wolfharde offered him a place on the Dauntless leadership panel, and he’d passed it up of his own volition, because he’d rather play his own game than someone else’s.
“But to answer your other question, I’m not opposed to taking a leap of faith every once in a while. I hope you’re not, either.” Filled with a spontaneously brilliant idea, Ghost looped an arm around Anika’s waist and clasped his other hand in hers, and just as the ambient song reached the blistering height of a guitar solo, he summoned a herculean surge of strength and lifted, feeling like his heart had wings and if he and Anika leaped high enough they would kiss the moon.
Barring partners who have been dancing together for years of their lives, professional dancers almost never perform impromptu lifts. If either partner is caught unawares, a lift improperly done can have dangerous consequences. Therefore the exact timing and positioning of a lift is always established prior to its performance, and both partners must be feeling in peak form. Back when he was dancing multiple times a week, an impromptu lift was something he would have hesitated to do even with Leah, his regular partner. So it should have come as little surprise when Ghost, on his third and final twirl with Anika in his arms, felt his strength wane suddenly and without warning, one of his knees buckling beneath their combined weights. The split-second of time between realizing that he was falling and actually hitting the floor in bone-crushing defeat lasted an eternity. A slim corner of his consciousness was aware of the frantic gasps of the nearest dancers as they scrambled backward to make room for the collapsing couple and not be taken down themselves.
When it was finished, Ghost found himself staring up into the frothing black fury of Anika’s eyes. Shame coursed through his veins like poison. He was dreadfully unsure whether the weight of his failure—personified by the very real weight of Anika sprawled on his chest, heavy as a stone—or the pain of the numerous bruises and scrapes he’d sustained from the fall hurt more. And as Ghost thought about it, the pain kicked in full force, amplifying to ten times its initial strength. One of his arms was twisted beneath him on an uncomfortable angle, and blue lightning arced from his knee down to his ankle and back up his femur as a result of impact. His eyeballs felt like they were rattling inside his skull, spinning endlessly around and around like the reels on a slot machine. A howl of pain welled up inside him, and Ghost bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from crying out, unwilling to humiliate himself further. The only positive side of his sorry state was that the internal screaming of his own body all but drowned out the derogatory chatter of the other dancers, still looking on with undisguised scorn.
The muscles in his chest were convulsing, trying to loosen enough that he could draw a breath, but it was an impossible task. Anika’s weight shifted atop him as she clambered to her feet, briefly concentrating all on his stomach. Ghost felt a dangerous rising in his esophagus as if all that which he had drunk earlier this afternoon was on the verge of making a reappearance. Half to his surprise, when Anika stood, she extended a hand to him, but one glance at her withering expression said that acceptance of her help was mandatory, not up to his discretion. As soon as their fingers touched and her loveless grasp clenched tight around his wrist, Ghost was propelled upright at vertigo-inducing speed. He let out a very convincing groan.
With his right hand still trapped in Anika’s grip, she set off at a relentless pace through the crush of people, navigating to the edge of the dance floor. Once they had cleared it, Ghost continued to let her steer the way. Darting a covert glance up at Anika to ensure that she was paying him no attention, Ghost’s left hand rummaged in his pocket and emerged with his phone. Then he set to work.
He pulled up Blair’s contact. The image of her runny mascara and disheveled hair resurfaced behind his eyes and refused to leave, like a phantom haunting the remains of an abandoned house. He respected her privacy and didn’t want to pry, but at the same time he wanted Blair to know that he cared. Ghost despised texting abbreviations with a passion and would normally never use them, but he had only so much time until Anika turned around. Despite being unable to come up with a single valid reason for his secrecy about texting Blair, it was vital that Anika didn’t see their communication. Trust was a funny thing indeed, and he didn’t trust Anika with the information that Blair was someone important to him. R u okay? he texted with one hand, thumb furiously flying over the keypad. Sent. And then: I dunno where you went, but if you wanna talk, I’ll listen. Was that weird? Too pushy? Or still too cold and standoffish? As someone who almost never discussed his emotions, Ghost had no idea how to extend an invitation for someone else to do so.
He was just returning his phone to his pocket when Anika whirled around. Ghost arranged his features into the most innocent expression in his arsenal. Maybe too innocent. Her eyes immediately narrowed in dark suspicion. She demanded what he was doing.
Ghost let his gaze slide out of focus, tipping his head back as if mesmerized by both everything and nothing in particular. “Such pretty lights…”
Anika’s stare lingered a moment longer before relenting that she would get nothing useful out of him now.
They arrived at a secluded alcove of the club, curtained off with a heavy purple drape. Ghost thought of what kind of transactions were most frequently conducted in these spaces, and his stomach formed a knot of revulsion. A sofa with puffy red velvet cushions took up most of the interior, and the floor was sticky with spilled drinks and discarded candy wrappers. At least, Ghost chose to believe that they were candy wrappers.
Anika eased him onto the sofa by pressing gently down on his shoulders. Ghost didn’t resist, looking stupidly up at her from beneath his eyelashes, as if his fall on the dance floor had knocked the remaining sense out of his brain. Anika settled down beside him, as close as she could get without being on top of him, their legs touching. On her left wrist, a heavy, studded gold bangle caught the low light, the same color as the corset she wore under her dress. “Wanna see some card tricks?” Ghost suggested suddenly, giving her a sloppy smile. Before she could answer, he had a deck of cards in hand, this one themed with colorful anime pictures.
Ghost did a few cursory shuffles, his fingers knowing what to do even though he couldn’t feel them. He performed an impressive series of false cuts, one-handed cuts, riffles and bridges, but when he separated his hands to do a spring, he shot the cards in uncontrolled spurts and caught only half of them. The others fell to the floor in a papery avalanche. Ghost laughed heartily, bent to pick up the fallen cards, and nearly toppled from the sofa. “I can do it, I promise,” he said earnestly. Once he’d gathered all but three of the cards, which were too far away to reach without getting up, he attempted the same feat, only to be met with a similar failure. “Maybe in a little bit.” As if the demonstration had thoroughly tired him, Ghost shifted the pillows around and nestled back into one corner of the sofa with his knees tucked close to his chest.
Not one to be outdone, Anika pulled a knife out of seemingly nowhere. She was a blur of fluid movement, and Ghost wouldn’t even have had the time to scream if her intent were hostile. Luckily though, the weapon appeared to be just for show, a fact that Ghost was trying to reconcile with himself as a dizzying rush of adrenaline funneled out of him. The knife was an indistinct shimmer of silver and white as it moved between her hands with reckless, blinding speed. A less dexterous person would have easily lopped off a finger. Anika tossed it into the air, where it must have flipped a dozen times, before catching it by the handle behind her back. Then she held it aloft on one fingertip and twirled it so that the knife was a cyclone of spinning metal. Ghost half-expected her to pull out two identical blades and start juggling like a circus act.
“Anika,” he mumbled sleepily, stifling a yawn. Ghost watched her until his eyes drooped to half-mast, and then further. His head lolled back over the arm of the sofa. “Do you think a person is as bad as his worst actions? Like…” He paused, trying to articulate his thoughts in a way that would make sense to a sober person. “Do our worst actions define us when we’re alive? Or do you think human beings are better than the very worst things we have ever done?” He cracked an eye open and studied her carefully, as if his life might depend on her answer. But black was closing along the edges of his vision, and Ghost’s concentration was rapidly unspooling. He heard Anika’s voice, understood it, but couldn’t remember anything of what she had said half a second later. “Interesting,” he said anyway, wishing he could formulate a better reply. This was a vein of conversation he would have liked to continue. Ghost pillowed his head in the crook of one arm, eyes closed.
Then there was pressure on his thigh, unfurling it from his chest. Breath billowed softly against his cheek. Ghost’s eyes flashed open, startled to find Anika looming over him as she had on the dance floor in the wake of their fall. But this time there was a softer, inviting gleam in her eyes, so dark that they didn’t seem to reflect the light so much as absorb it, like twin black holes where stars went to die. Ghost’s whole body tensed, pulling as taut as a violin string, afraid that Anika would try to wring notes out of him. “...What are you doing?”
She pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, her touch surprisingly tender. Mockingly, she asked whether Ghost trusted her.
“Like I trust laced Kool-Aid.”
Undeterred by Ghost’s lack of faith, Anika tightened the hand on his thigh so that the pierce of her fingernails was perceptible through the fabric. With her other hand—the one sporting the heavy golden bangle—she brushed knuckles against his cheek. Fire unwillingly lanced across Ghost’s skin. She ran the pad of her thumb across his lower lip and teasingly traced their outline.
And then her hand was tangling in his hair and she was kissing him.
Shock exploded through Ghost. His heart was thundering in his throat, but he wasn’t sure whether it was with desire or panic. Teeth grazed his lip and a hand clawed at the open neck of his shirt, which already had the top two buttons undone.
Ghost curled his fingers around the wrist of the exploring hand, halting its progress. Thinking only of self-preservation, he flipped onto his side and dislodged Anika, inconsiderately dumping her onto the floor. “You need to leave,” he said bluntly. Like a rabbit unexpectedly set free from a snare, Ghost bolted up from the couch before Anika could pounce on him again. The world swayed, and he steadied himself on the arm of the sofa. “Or I need to leave. Someone needs to leave.” His words were clipping each other’s heels, tumbling out feverishly fast.
Eyeing him with wordless deadliness, Anika climbed to her feet, indignantly brushing off her dress. Ghost felt like his thoughts had been tilted on their side and he couldn’t stop the rush. Control of the situation was all at once slipping from his grasp. “Excuse me, ma’am, but what the hell was that supposed to be?” He wasn’t sure whether he was addressing Anika or speaking rhetorically. Holding himself very stiffly, Ghost began to pace as best he could in the enclosed space, unable to stay in one place. “Is that what you really think I want from you? Meaningless sex in a public space? This might come as a surprise to you, but not all guys think with their cocks. Miss, I am a fucking gentleman.” Ghost felt like he was going at a hundred miles an hour. He couldn’t stop. “You’re not my friend, Anika; we’re not friends. If I talk to you, it’s because I think you can be somehow useful to me. So don’t you dare go buttering me up for a cheap thrill again, because my time is more valuable than that.” Speaking of which, it was half-past six; Ghost had thirty minutes until he and Charlie were supposed to be at her mother’s house, and he had no clue where to begin looking for her. “If that’s the best you can offer me, then I am truly disappointed,” he finished, his energy for anger draining.
He stalked toward the purple curtain, satisfied with the tongue-lashing he’d given her and ready to leave. Without looking back, he said, “Come talk to me when you’re more serious about striking some kind of deal or alliance. If that was ever your goal. Oh, and Anika? I wasn’t lying to you. Other than sheer enjoyment, I really don’t need a reason to take something that isn’t mine.” Ghost couldn’t be bothered to pick up the cards still scattered on the floor. The curtain swished in the wake of his departure. Let her keep them, he thought bitterly. After all, it’s not like I’m walking out empty-handed. Satisfied with his snatch, he patted the slight bulge in his pocket, where Anika’s golden bangle now rested. With the bracelet he’d won from Jarvis at poker adorning his left wrist, now Ghost would have one for each.
It was a shame, the falling-out with Anika. He really could have seen her potential as a powerful ally. She was a knife wrapped in velvet, with a pretty facade disguising lethal motives, and she wielded her charm like a weapon. Then there was the fact that she had managed to infiltrate the Erudite laboratory of her accord, independent of Ghost and Fable. Or, more likely, she had seen what they were doing and followed them inside, perhaps with intent to ambush. Or perhaps they’d just been a means to fulfill her own nefarious agenda. An admirable feat, regardless. But truthfully it isn’t my trust you are looking to earn, Anika had told him. An ominous tiding. So she was working for someone, or she was part of some kind of cult or gang. Maybe there were others like her. And if so, maybe Ghost could align them all with his treasonous goals.
He headed toward the fringes of the dance floor where the crowd was suitably thick, not wanting to give Anika the opportunity to pursue him. Ghost scanned the perimeter of the room for an exit. If he wanted to call Charlie, he needed to go somewhere he could hear her first. The dance floor was teeming with bodies again, performing all kinds of uninhibited gyrations. Suspended from the ceiling was a cage with two dancers of indeterminate gender, a new installment since Ghost and Anika had departed the dance floor. The bewilderment and rage which followed her attempted seduction had mostly sobered Ghost, but the room still wobbled if he spun too fast, and he couldn’t feel his teeth. Or was that normal, not to be able to feel one’s teeth?
As Ghost located a pair of saloon-style doors and hustled toward them, a plan sprang into his mind. He’d tried to shake Anika in the crowd, but he couldn’t take any chances that she was still following him. While he talked to Charlie and figured out where to meet her, he would first walk to the Pit, then circle around and head to the initiates’ training floor as if he’d forgotten some important file that was due imminently, and finally he’d go—
He had reached the doors, but a cluster of four men aged twenty-something with beer bottles in hand were laughing raucously and blocking the exit. One of them actually slapped his knee. Ghost’s lips thinned and he waited. “Excuse me,” he finally said, almost shouting to be heard over the blaring music. “Could you please move?”
All of the guys’ heads snapped toward Ghost in unison. One of them gave him a quick once-over, taking in Ghost’s dove-gray button-down and trousers, and gave a low, derisive chuckle. “You in some kinda hurry, buddy?”
“Yes, actually, I am,” Ghost answered truthfully. “If you would please step aside?”
The guy sported tiny spectacles and a mousy-brown man bun at the top of his head. “You hear that, Joey? The twink said please. So I guess it’d be a little redundant to teach him some manners, huh?”
Another guy with caramel-colored skin and round cheeks chimed in, “But tons of fun anyway.” The whole group jeered.
“Aw yeah, you got it, bruh!” The bespectacled man’s eyes shriveled into amused crescents.
As he turned to slap fives with Joey, still blocking the doors, Ghost darted forward. He’d taken a page out of Anika’s book and already had his knife in hand. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time,” he said calmly, wielding the knife to slide between the man’s ribs if necessary. “With the music so loud, that’s understandable.”
A tumult of shouting, swearing, and unsheathing weapons erupted in the space before the doors. Miraculously, above it all, Ghost heard someone exclaiming his name.
He turned. Charlie stood several feet away from the altercation, her face a mask of horror.
“Oh. There you are,” Ghost said, immediately brightening, his good humor restored. The hand holding the knife briefly vanished behind his back and reemerged empty, as if it had been that way all along. He stepped toward Charlie, casually looped his arm through hers, and kept walking swiftly, before the pack of angry men could close in on him. “I was just looking for you. About time we head to dinner, eh?”

 

[Nerdy.]

Aubrey Amber Stark || 16 || Initiate || Dauntlessborn

Aubrey laughed, an adorable little giggle of a laugh, as she watched Thorn make his bicep dance. "How do you do that?" She said with bubbly excitement as she reached out with strangely gentle fingers and giggled as he did it again so she could feel it. She then flexed her own arms, trying her hardest to make her biceps dance like Thorn did, but only succeeding in giving herself a cramp in her arm. "You'll have to teach me how to do that, it's hilarious! Also, you are really muscly, you should show them off more. They're kind of sexy." Aubrey said, immediately blushing a beet red and regretting the words she had used. Thorn turned a similar shade of red, and the two awkwardly coughed and chuckled, before Aubrey finally continued speaking, trying to break the awkward silence. "Ergh... Well yes! The strong man competition should be so fun! We can see some professionals in their element! And then maybe do some ourselves! Though I'll have to stick to some that won't hurt my dress, I wouldn't want to ruin it... Let's just give it a shot hey?" She said, getting an affirmation nod from Thorn, and the two got up from their seats at the tattoo show, and made their way out of the area and started the walk towards the strong man competition. Aubrey tried to remember the last time she had watched a strong man competition, it must have been at another similar party or festival. As she thought deeply about it, she tried to remember if she had participated at all, or if she had been too young... What would she be able to do today? She needed to save strength for later in the evening, should it come to the need to have a fight with whomever was hurting Charlie, but at the same time Aubrey really wanted to show off her muscles and see how she would fare against someone like Thorn, who was obviously quite strong, but flew far under the radar when it came to competition. Aubrey had been training since she was a toddler, whereas Thorn seemed so gentle and kind that she couldn't imagine him fighting unless he absolutely had to... and yet he was very well built, and had enough muscles to cause even Aubrey's eyebrows to raise and cheeks to blush. Thorn was a challenge she was hoping to conquer.

The strong man competition was quite popular. Many of Dauntless' favourite men and celebrities were there to show off and fight each other without getting in trouble at all, and to set new high scores and be as competitive and loud. Of course there were women there too, many, but even so, the men did outnumber the women at least three-to-one. Aubrey prided herself in being a competent and strong women, and had always looked up to people like Harper, however she didn't feel the need to have a female inspiration, and had found people like Caspian more than enough to look up to. She had always been his little gem, so she had looked up to him as an older brother, almost a father figure even. She had her eyes peeled for anyone whom she might recognize, she and Thorn strolled around the different displays of strength. There were people trying to lift heavy things, stack heavy things, hold them, push them, pull them... A huge array of different things for them to try their hand at. Thus, when Aubrey saw Jacob doing one of the competitions, she squealed in delight and ran up to cheer for him. He was shirtless, as were almost all the men, and he was doing a tug-o-war with another man. The two were evenly matched, neither inching very far to either side, but both physically becoming more exerted and starting to shake under the stress. "GO JACOB!!! YOU CAN DO IT! PULL HIM ON HIS ASS!" Aubrey screamed out, and could see Jacob's tight lipped smile widen as he heard her voice. She didn't know if her voice had actually inspired extra strength from him, or if the other guy had simply started to falter faster than him, but it wasn't long before Jacob was able to tug the rope hard enough to pull the man forward, and he stumbled onto the mat clumsily, while Jacob stood victorious. Aubrey cheered loudly and waved at him cheerfully. "That was awesome! We should try that! Though... I'm not sure I could beat you honestly, you have a better build than I do for that... Maybe we could do the deadlift instead? And then the tug of war just for fun before we have to leave? What do you think? Just for fun?" Aubrey stared at Thorn with bright blue eyes filled with enthusiasm, and watched as he thought about it, then came to the conclusion that it sounded like fun. She grinned. "Let me just say hi to Jacob! Then we can go do that... I want to catch him before he leaves!" She grinned and grabbed Thorn's hand as she dragged him through the crowd to where Jacob was sitting with a water bottle, sweating profusely. He smiled as he saw Aubrey, and stood up to come say hi. "Jacob! You were amazing, I wish I'd seen you in more of the competition, I bet you did amazingly! Are any of your brothers doing the competitions? I know Asher would do well..." She trailed off as she giggled, finding the image of the other Parks children doing it. "Christian should definitely give it a try, he would be amazing. He was built for this kind of competition." She said, not even allowing Jacob to answer any of her questions. He simply laughed, tussling up Aubrey's hair gently, causing her to moan at him and bat his hand away as she tried to fix her hair style. "You're... Thorn yes? You work at the smithery? I like your work, I was thinking of coming in to take a look at some point, wanted a center piece for my bar, something unique." He started speaking to Thorn, as Aubrey continued fussing to herself. "She's quite a fun one isn't she? I'd be careful though, she can be an exciting time but also a bit of a whirlwind, impressive but dangerous." Jacob winked at Thorn, slapping him on the shoulder gently. He then pinched Aubrey gently on the arm as she finally finished with her hair. "Break a leg kid! I gotta go get washed up, I have a dinner with the kids and such." He said, giving them a wave and walking off. Aubrey stood there waving until Jacob had gone, and then looked at the deadlift area, taking a few deep breaths. "Yes, okay, dead lift time! Come on Thorn!" She grabbed his hand.

Although Thorn had definitely done a heavier deadlift than Aubrey, she was proud of the weight she had gone up to, and she was fairly sure that if she calculated the weight according to how heavy she was, and how heavy Thorn was, that hers was probably heavier. She thought she might as well let Thorn keep believing his was heavier though, as she didn't want to hurt his feelings. They took a break after, taking a long drink of water and standing in front of one of the large fans that was there to keep the place cool. Aubrey was glad her hair was done up, as it meant it wasn't getting everywhere and it wasn't sticking to her body in awkward ways. She didn't want to sweat too much, but that was almost impossible given the strength and strain that you went through to do deadlifts. "That was awesome. You're super strong..." Aubrey said towards Thorn, as they waited to cool down before even trying the tug of war. But at the same time, Aubrey wasn't sure if they wanted to do it, considering how exhausted they already were. She nibbled at her lip as she thought about whether they could spend their time together any more before the dinner tonight... she knew her mom wouldn't be too upset if they were there a little late. "Have you ever had a massage? Wouldn't that feel so good right now? I could kill for a good massage..." She murmured, imagining the relaxation it would give her. Thorn spoke about how he wasn't sure if he would like it himself. Aubrey tilted her head, wondering why on earth he wouldn't like it. "Charlie's the same, she hates massages, though she never says why." She thought about it, thinking about how Charlie always refused anything similar to a massage, or even public baths or spas, or sauna's or anything similar to that. "Ah well... I guess I can go another time..." Aubrey said, her eyes lingering at a station nearby where people were giving cheaper massages especially for those who had done strongman activities or things like that. As Thorn followed her gaze, he asked if she wanted to get one. Aubrey nodded, "Sure, but I don't want to do something that you don't want to. It's more fun to spend time together." She laughed, hopping up from her chair and stretching. When Thorn said he wouldn't mind waiting, she considered it, eyeing the massage with desire. "Well.. maybe a really short one would be nice... You really wouldn't mind? I don't need to have one, we can go do something else or just start heading to my place?" She looked at him with wide eyes and waited for his response.

Interacting with: Thorn Sanctuaryforall1

Cassidy "Cassie" Wickham || 16 || Initiate || Erudite Transfer

WIP

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Fable

Mood: Concerned

Location: Party

Interactions: Chris, Charlie

The words Chris uttered were not what she had expected when she asked if he was okay or not. Seeing Chris as a strong, resilient, unstoppable force she felt like the wind had been sucked from her the moment he admitted he was dying. It took several seconds for her head to wrap around the words, for her heart to not feel like it was being strangled, a feeling that only grew as he continued to explain his situation. The way he trailed off, the way he seemed to fight to find his words, Fable knew that what he was dealing with was something that had him lost and shaking even if he wouldn't admit it outright. She could tell by the tone of his voice and the movement of his thumb on her hand which she returned in hopes of providing him with some level of comfort. As she watched him with her concerned earthy gaze she could see his jaw tighten as he gritted his teeth and she wished she could find a way to do more for the torment he must be feeling inside. She did her best but she was never as prepared in an emotional setting as Griffon was, her brother always knowing what to say and do to help someone feel like they can breathe even in the hardest of moments. For now, Fable just did her best to listen and be there for Chris, to be present and attentive towards anything he might need as he continued speaking.

She fought the urge to spiral emotionally because that wasn't her right at this moment and she needed to be there for the young man she had begun to consider her friend. As much as her heart, mind, and soul wanted to be consumed by the grief that she would be losing another friend she warred within herself to not be so selfish at this moment because Chris needed her. She might not want to give in to her Abnegation roots but at this moment those roots were what Chris needed and she would give him that and anything else in order to make things even the slightest bit easier. "Chris..." She began but was cut off when he seemed to figure out what to say next and she listened with rapt attention. His words were simple but they hit Fable hard because she in her own way could understand that feeling. Things might not have been simpler in her past but they certainly hadn't gotten easier and her life was changed forever, still, she knew no matter what she felt that Chris had it so much worse. Her hand tightened on his a bit after he spoke and she knew that if she felt this way that Blair and those who had known him so much longer would likely feel all this tenfold if they even knew. Their friendship was still new and Fable already felt like another part of her world was falling apart in front of her...just as she had the other day standing in the middle of the street with a gun in her hand and Dante's blood on her boots.

When he made the simple request to keep dancing Fable nodded and did her best to fall back into the rhythm of the music. It seemed she and Chris had a mutual struggle to keep up with the ever changing tune of the songs as they went from being perfectly in beat to stumbling around the dance floor like drunken geese. As Chris began to smile and laugh Fable decided it was best to once again compartmentalize her feelings and just go with whatever Chris seemed to need at that moment. If he wanted to laugh and dance then that is exactly what she would do. She accidentally stepped on his foot at one point and began apologizing over and over as her hand covered her mouth in surprise and she felt flooded with guilt. Soon after Chris seemed to begin slowing down and she could see a thin layer of what looked to be sweat forming on his upper brow. She did her very best not to assume the worst and hoped it was just the heat of the crowd, however, in his eyes she could read a story of a tired young man doing his best to make memories and have fun while he still had the strength to do so.

Upon hearing his suggestion to play pool Fable's fiery eyebrows rose as she gave him a smirk. "Oh yeah, we totally had pool in Abnegation. You are looking at the number one pool hustler from that dreadful faction." She blurted without feeling any shame ore guilt about bashing her old faction. While it might have felt like home for Griffon it was never a place of comfort for her and there were still times she wished she could burn certain parts of it to the ground. Before they could reach the pool table however a familiar figure ripped past them as if her life depended on it. From the brief heartbeat of passing Fable could instantly tell that something was very wrong with Charlie. The usually quiet yet vibrant young medic looked as if she was about to be sick, pass out, or perhaps both. She looked like she was in pain and by the shade of her skin which was tinged with green and paler than normal Fable didn't need to be told twice and was already jumping into action to check on the kindhearted soul that was clearly in distress. "Charlie!" Fable echoed Chris, her voice less questioning and more alarmed. The fiery haired initiate was already racing towards the route the medic took when Chris suggested following and she nodded her head rapidly in agreement with his words.

Trailing after the shaky brunette Fable and Chris cut through the crowd with ease due to Chris's size and the fact that Fable didn't give two shits about shoving people at this moment. When they reached the bathroom Fable was about to go barreling in but stopped when she noticed Chris had slowed down and no longer seemed to be directly behind her. Looking back at him she felt a wave of confusion strike her when he asked if she would go in alone to check on the medic. With his hand on her shoulder and his words about owing her and promises to make it up to her rolling around in her head she looked up at him and nodded, "Of course, I can go check on her." She confirmed and put her hand on top of his. "But don't go thinking you owe me anything, I mean it." She added with a friendly yet stern voice, her eyes looking up at him trying to make it clear that he didn't owe her a single thing. Giving his hand a quick squeeze the freckled beauty spun on her heels and walked toward the bathroom. Carefully she opened the door and peered around, her mismatched gaze sweeping the area until she heard what could only be Charlie. "Charlie?" She called out and stepped further into the bathroom. "Charlie, it's Fable...Fable Morvo." She continued and paused at the stall she could hear the medic in. "I saw you run past and you didn't look to be doing so well, can I help you?" She inquired, her voice insisting yet compassionate. "Please, Chris and I are worried."

Nerdy.

code by Stardust Galaxy

 

[Nerdy.]

Charlotte "Charlie" Stark || 20 || Medic || Dauntlessborn

Charlie wasn't sure what Blair had been going through, but it must have been something bad enough that left the other girl speechless, just as Charlie was now. She sat on the cold floor of a relatively clean bathroom cubicle. She could feel the tiles like ice, pressing against the soft skin of her legs, as the blue silk dress that Noah had given her splayed around her like a wave, like the wave of panic that had washed over her just now, and continued to wash through her in slower and quiet waves. Her body shook still, and it felt almost as cold as the floor, her skin was slowly recovering some of the beautiful colour into itself, but Charlie was not quite back from her attack, and that's why it was so strange that she didn't even know when Blair had disappeared, and when Fable had appeared. The cubicle door was slightly closed now, and she could Fable's voice ringing through the bathroom, echoing off of the metallic walls and ringing in her ears. Had Blair even been here? Or was that a figment of her imagination? Charlie felt shame riddle her body as she realized how unprofessional it was for her to be in this state right now, she had just thrown up in the bathroom, she was splayed out on the floor, she couldn't - at least up until now - even speak to Blair, or Fable, or anyone for that matter. The poor medic had gone through enough panic attacks and reliving her PTSD to understand what happened, and even to look at it from a birds eyes view after it had happened, but while it was happening, Charlie couldn't differentiate reality from fantasy. So when she had run from Jeremy, she had truly believed he was chasing her, when she had thrown up, she had truly believed that it was because he was choking her throat, that he was laying hit upon hit to her body. She couldn't untangle herself from the traumatic memories, and she just had to live through them to the best of her management, and after that interaction with Jeremy himself? Charlie was perfectly happy to be alone in a bathroom cell. Except she wasn't alone, as she heard Fable's voice call out again, and a gentle rapping against the half open cubicle door that Charlie still sat behind. Had she really not answered Fable? Charlie felt guilty as she finally opened her mouth, dry and chapped as it was. "F-Fable.. I... I'm okay.. Thank you for checking on me." Charlie bit her cheeks as she hoisted herself up by grabbing onto the toilet roll dispenser and letting her legs lose the pins and needles feeling that they had, slowly placing weight on them and opening the door as she stepped out into the bathroom, blinking at the bright lights that shined on her. She didn't see Fable to start with, instead she actually saw herself, reflected in the mirror that arrayed the back of the walls behind the sinks and faucets. She did not look well, she looked almost ghostly, as if she had died and only just gone into the spirit world. The fake smile she had tried to have while exiting the cubicle may as well have been a frown, as she couldn't detect even an ounce of genuine peace in her demeanor. She noticed Fable finally, as her eyes slowly scanned the room, blinking slowly and clenching her fist so that the pain of her fingernails in her palm would keep her in reality, as her eyes and brain kept trying to trick her, as she imagined Jeremy coming through the bathroom doors, and the mirror was somehow hiding him. She felt a wave of nausea and cold again, and she stumbled backward, her back slamming into one of the dividers between cubicles. That's when Fable's voice rang out again, like a gentle bell, and Charlie's dark brown eyes finally found a steady and real image to focus on. Fable Morvo.

Fable had been speaking, but Charlie had only picked up on a few parts of that, such as You're not okay. Please let me help somehow. Are you safe? Are you sick? Do you need an escort? Charlie didn't know if Fable had said all of those things, but that's what Charlie had heard. And she shook her head at every question, closing her eyes and finally taking a deep breath, using her shaking hands to flatten her dress and smooth it on her body. "Did anyone follow you here?" Charlie finally said, her voice finally clear and direct, her eyes opening and staring seriously into Fable's. Fable shook her head, assuring her that the only person outside was Christian, who was respectfully outside the bathroom. "Good.. That's good. Then I'm... That's good." Charlie felt an intense amount of tension release from her shoulders and the pain in her heart finally started to get lighter. If Christian was outside, he wouldn't let anyone come in that looked dangerous or harmful. And if he did, he was right there and Charlie could call for him for help. She stepped up towards the bathroom sinks, looking at herself in the mirror. Charlotte Stark, you need to get yourself together. You have initiates to be strong for, you have a dinner party to go to, and you have your whole life to live. You don't have time for melt downs like this. Jeremy isn't coming after you, he can't, Ghost saved you, think reasonably. Your worst nightmares will not happen again. They are in the past, and that's all these panic attacks are, just memories. They may feel real, but they're just like a simulation... Charlie turned to Fable, she gave the young initiate a warm, genuine smile. "I'm sorry Fable, I was not myself just then. I.. can't really go into what just happened. Please forgive me for all of this, it was terribly unthoughtful of me. Living in Dauntless comes with its own nightmares." Charlie muttered softly, a sigh escaping her lips as she struggled to meet Fable's eyes, as she could see the deep concern that swam through them. "Thank you for coming to check on me, I wish I hadn't been in such a state to begin with, but I am grateful for the company. I think I am feeling well enough to leave now, I wouldn't say no to having your company in here until I do leave though..." Charlie didn't want to bother Fable any more than she had, but she also didn't want to have another panic attack, and the idea of hearing Fable leave through the doors was enough to cause her chest to tighten. Fable agreed readily and without much to say except that she was more than happy to stay with Charlie until she was ready to leave. Charlie smiled gently, and she stood there for a few moments, breathing softly to herself, occasionally looking in the mirror to ground herself in reality, as she could see it was only herself and Fable there, Jeremy was nowhere in sight, he didn't know where she was, and even if he did, he wouldn't attack her. It took only a couple minutes for Charlie to finish her silent meditation, she turned to Fable. "Thank you Fable. I... would appreciate this if you kept this mostly confidential. I would rather not have any more.. rumor's going round." Charlie thought of how there was someone who had made it look like she had killed Caspian, and she felt her lips tighten on her face, and began the walk out of the bathroom. She needed to find somewhere to go contact Ghost, if not just find him somewhere. She was grateful for Fable's presence beside her as she exited the room. Seeing Christian outside the bathroom was startling at first, a large muscular man with slightly long hair, but when he turned to look at them, she was immediately comforted by his familiar presence. He was not Jeremy. He immediately approached to ask if both of them were okay, and Charlie smiled again. "Thank you Christian, I'm fine. Please get back to your partying, I wasn't feeling well. I feel much better now." Christian looked at Fable, and when Fable nodded and turned to say goodbye to Charlie, Christian joined Fable in saying goodbye. Charlie nodded to the two, giving them a short wave as she made her way in a different direction than the two.

That's when she walked almost straight into what seemed to be a fight, some type of altercation. Charlie had to skid to a stop, her heart leaping into her throat as she felt goosebumps run up her arms as the sight of four bodies ready to fight tried to inhabit her mind and spur up memories of... Charlie bit her lip, clenching her fist again as she muttered silently to herself You're safe, you're secure, nobody's hurting you, nothing's wrong. She was about to avoid them and go out another door, when the worst thing she could have added to this situation appeared in her eyes. Ghost stood right in the midst of the fighting. Now Ghost was not a bad thing, in fact Ghost was the one thing that had been giving Charlie exciting thoughts for the whole day, she had been desperately desiring after him the entire day, and the thought of him - especially after having seen Jeremy and knowing he had no power over her - was down right enticing. So seeing Ghost was actually a good thing, it was just the fact that he was in a place that Charlie didn't want to see him. Maybe she was mistaken, she had already hallucinated a couple times in the last ten minutes, having thought she had seen Blair, so maybe that really wasn't Ghost... "Ghost?" She called tentatively, and to her dismay and horror, she watched as Ghost's head swiveled to her direction. It really was him in the middle of this soon to be fight, and now she was going to have to watch as these four men beat him up and she would be entirely useless, and then they would probably hurt her because she was so easy to hurt... Charlie couldn't believe Ghost would do something as ridiculous as start a fight with four people. However, she had no time to react to her horror at seeing him in such a position, as he moved with such speed and velocity that she actually yelped as he grabbed her arm and swung her to move with his direction, side stepping the four burly men and whisking her towards and through the doors that exited out of the room. She numbly followed him, not answering his redundant question as her mind whirred with too many thoughts and questions that she couldn't make sense of them. How had Ghost been there right when she needed to find him... Why was Ghost starting a fight? Did he have a knife at some point? Why was he so happy after being in a fight... Those weren't the only thoughts of course, Charlie felt a warmth burn through her soft skin as she felt Ghost's sturdy arm looped through her own, it felt nice, it felt possessive, it felt right. She knew that was cheesy, but it almost caused all the other questions to wash away. After walking, really quickly actually - Charlie had noticed that because she had stumbled at least twice - for a few minutes and down some interesting turns and curves, Ghost finally slowed down as if he were content. Charlie assumed he was trying to stop the four men from following them, so she had followed happily and hadn't argued with the speed or winding, and she didn't question it either. She was happy to not be in the midst of any fight or altercation. But now that they were walking at a much more pleasant speed, Ghost's arm that was looped with hers loosened drastically, and her turned to her for the first time, looking over her outfit and her face, he stared at her face quite hard actually, and Charlie couldn't help but blush deeply at the way he scrutinized it and investigated it. Her eyes stayed on his for a few seconds, but soon she felt too awkward and she dropped them to wash over his outfit. It wasn't quite what she was used to him wearing, but as always he was dressed to impress, much better than any other male in this faction, though... Charlie's eyes wavered at the way his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, and the peak of his chest underneath caused her heart to skip slightly, another blush. Why was his shirt unbuttoned slightly? Was he with someone else? He didn't seem the type to unbutton due to heat... She bit her lip as she felt a jealous spike within her, only to remember he was just in the middle of what looked like a fight, so it had to be that. Right?

Charlie's attention was drawn from the thought of his buttons to having to listen to his smooth voice. He was commenting on her make up, and that's when she remembered how she must have looked to him. She flushed again, this time out of shame and embarrassment as she remembered how she had looked in the bathroom. She had been pale, her make up had run just a little bit and she had simply looked a bit disheveled. She was about to answer, to apologize actually, but before she was able to apologize for the way she looked to him, he finished his sentence, complimenting her for her natural beauty. Charlie stuttered her sentence that now fell away from her, as she was shocked to hear a compliment out of Ghost's mouth. In fact, as she took Ghost's demeanour at the moment, it was shocking in general. "Thank you, I... Had a panic attack in the bathroom. I can tell you about it later maybe, if you want?" She said, as her heart began to beat steadily for the first time in ages, and she felt more comfortable than she had all day. Ghost frowned, and he stopped walking, turning to look at Charlie front to front, he reached out to smooth her dress in the spots that it had bunched up and wrinkles, causing Charlie to blush again, as the undeniable warmth of his skin through the silk was like fire on her skin. Once he was satisfied, he nodded and they continued walking, though now they no longer had their arms looped together, Charlie felt slightly far from him, and she tentatively reached out with her hand, brushing her fingers against his. She expected him to brush her hand away, that would be something he would usually do, but she was surprised as his hand intertwined with hers almost automatically, almost as if he had been craving that touch too, and her heart leapt. Ghost was being particularly attentive and... different. Good different, but still, something seemed strange. She tilted her head slightly as they walked and he began to speak, what had he been doing today? She hadn't seen him or heard from him at all today. "What have you done today? I imagine you got the best out of your day? You seem in a good mood." She spoke gently, but warmly, and much more enthusiastic than usual, her heart beating in her chest like the sound of clapping, it felt like things were changing for the better, minus the panic attack. What could go wrong? She was about to introduce her... boyfriend.... to her family. That meant this was real, and the way that Ghost was acting towards her only seemed to confirm that. "It's really good to see you." She said through murmured lips, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek, before hesitating as she remembered how he had reacted the last time she had tried to kiss him; So she instead try to cover for it by leaning her head on his shoulder for just a second.

Interacting with: Fable Sanctuaryforall1 Christian, Ghost Aviator

 

[WanderLust.]

Lainey Covington // Female // Age 16 // Erudite Transfer
Interacting With: Cas Nerdy. Shay Sanctuaryforall1

Ever the horrified chaperone, Sebastian was keeping a close eye on his little sister, no doubt praying that she would change her mind about getting a tattoo. Lainey, however, could not have been more oblivious to her brother’s watchful eyes. In truth, she hadn’t really felt like she belonged in dauntless as of late. She found herself missing erudite more often than not. While she was certainly stubborn enough to progress through initiation without a hitch, it often had her questioning if her grand act of defiance towards her family was actually the right decision for her. She still stood out like a sore thumb sometimes, the picture of elegance and grace in a faction that largely idolized violence and brute strength. Lainey liked to think of herself as a walking paradigm, equal parts beautiful and lethal. While she had no intentions of compromising her beauty to appear more brutish, she was holding out hope that a tattoo would at least help her appear more dauntless. It wasn’t often that Lainey Covington found herself wanting to blend in, and as she mulled that over in her head, she resigned that whatever tattoo she decided on would be just as unique and elegant as she was.

Her fingers traced over a few delicate designs that were displayed by the many tattoo artists working in the parlor. At first, nothing really caught her attention. A few birds here, some stars and other insignias there, nothing that made her look twice… nothing that particularly felt like her. Finally, her eyes landed on a design that got her thinking, only to be interrupted by the familiar sound of Cas’s excited voice. Lainey immediately broke into a smile when she saw how genuinely happy her friend was. She assumed that because of the way Cas experienced pain, she would never be able to endure the entire tattooing process, but it seemed the dark haired beauty had finally found a semi-permanent solution as she held out her hands for Lainey to examine. Thrilled, Lainey reached out to grasp her friends hands, marveling at the swirling, floral designs on her hands that climbed up to the skin of her forearms. “It’s beautiful! It’s very you.” She winked, loving the way the henna had brought out the natural curves and elegance of Cas’ hands. When Cas asked what Lainey had gone with, she bit her lip hesitantly before holding up the design she had settled on. She watched as Cas raised an eyebrow at her, as if questioning Lainey’s decision. Sebastian peeked over her shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Lainey’s choice before sighing and nodding. “I suppose I can live with that.”

A smile broke out on Lainey’s lips as she jumped excitedly, making her way over towards one of the tattoo artists, holding out her design “Any chance you could make the thorns extra pointy?” she chuckled softly as she sat down in the chair, pulling her hair up into a messy bun so that the artists could have easy access to the back of her neck. Lainey was very involved with the whole process, watching in the mirror as her vision came to life before her. She had insisted that she use white ink, as Lainey thought that the black ink was too mundane, too boring. She grimaced every once in a while as the needly pierced its way through her skin, leaving delicate, pale, white lines in its wake. The pain didn’t bother her nearly as much as the incessant buzzing noise. Still, she managed to grit her teeth and sit still throughout the process as a delicate, white rose began blossoming and coiling it’s way down her spine. Soon, Lainey ended up needing to remove her shirt, laying on her stomach so that the tattoo artist could finish the design down the entirety of her spine. That was when she heard yet another familiar voice, and though she couldn't see the source of it, she found herself instantly exhaling in relief knowing that Shay was keeping a watchful eye over the process. "You better make sure it looks as beautiful as the rest of me." She grinned, though her voice sounded a bit strained.

The vines of the white roses had exceptionally sharp thorns, it looked as though if you got too close you might get pricked. An excellent representation of Lainey herself, enticingly beautiful, but might still draw blood. Every once in a while Lainey would inhale sharply as the needly made its way over an especially sensitive area, but she remained deadly still, determined not to screw up any of the lines of her tattoo. When it was all finished, Lainey had broke out into a sweat, the delicate skin of her back red from the needle, but the white roses blossoming at intervals all down her spine. She couldn’t see the whole tattoo unless she looked in a mirror and craned her neck at an awkward angle, so instead she turned to her friends for guidance. “Cas? Shay?” she asked softly, nerves wracking her for the first time as it took a moment for either of them to respond. "Oh my god, somebody say something!" She let out a frustrated whine as she finally stood up, her patience failing her as she made her way over to the mirror, struggling to look at her own back as she twisted and turned.​

 

[WanderLust.]

Blair Avalon // Female // Age 16 // Dauntless Born Initiate // Divergent
Interacting With: Charlie & Christian Nerdy. Fable Sanctuaryforall1

Blair's reflection rippled in the mirror as she forced herself to take deep breaths. She detested this feeling, of insufficiency, inferiority... she wasn't good enough for Christian. She never would be. Another shaky breath racked its way through her chest as she fought the urge to sob into her own hands. She watched herself in that bathroom mirror as if she could will herself to stop crying, stop being so weak, and as her emotions raged around her, that oh so familiar pressure building in the back of her head, she flinched. The sound of glass splintering ricocheted through the small bathroom. Blair turned away sharply before the mirror could crack even more, as if pulling her attention from her reflection would somehow protect the fragile glass of the mirror. She dipped her hand into her pocket, pulling out her phone, hoping for some sort of distraction, but her messages were empty. It seemed that, for as much time as Blair had spent the night thinking about other people, she hadn't yet crossed the minds of any others. The door to the bathroom was thrown open so abruptly that Blair sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, her phone clattering to the floor in the chaos as a brunette girl quickly stumbled in and down onto her knees, kneeling in front of one of the open bathrooms as she heaved.

And suddenly, Blair's attention, and subsequent telekinetic powers were distracted enough to buy her some time as concern washed over her face. "Are you okay?" She quickly paced forward, kneeling down and reaching for the long, wavy brown locks of the girl in front of her. She had been in the same situation once or twice, and she had always wished there had been somebody to hold her own hair back for her. It wasn't until she swept the dark hair off of the girls face that the realization came crashing down upon Blair. "Charlie?" Charlotte Stark was not the type of girl that Blair would've ever expected to drink in such excess that she made herself sick. The surprise in Blair's voice was unveiled as she began rubbing the medics back in small, soothing circles. "Shhh, it's okay." She cooed as Charlie continued to retch the contents of her stomach. It was only then that it occurred to Blair that Charlie would probably not like an audience, so she reached for the door to the bathroom stall, sliding it shut so that they had some privacy. When the other girl seemed to have tossed up everything in her stomach, she finally looked up to see Blair, who was making her best attempt to comfort the medic who had taken care of her so many times before. It was odd having their roles reversed now, but the blonde was happy that she could be here to help, so that Charlie wouldn't have to suffer through this alone.

The medic immediately leapt into an explanation about how she had been feeling sick, though Blair wasn't sure if she believed her. Earlier in the night when Charlie had bandaged up Blair's 'injured' ankle, she had seemed completely fine, though her date was a rather unpleasant man. Blair stared back at Charlie, her large blue eyes extending unspoken sympathy, before nodding. Her look made it clear that she suspected Charlie had gotten sick for another reason, but the medic owed Blair no explanation, and as long as the blonde knew she was safe, she wouldn't pry. "Here..." She reached for some toilet paper, handing it to the darker haired female so that she could wipe her mouth. Charlie thanked her, and soon they were both getting to their feet, only to hear a knock on the bathroom stall. Blair's stomach dropped at the familiar voice. Fable, of course she had come to check on Charlie. That was the kind of person Fable was, kind and genuinely caring, sweet and unselfish, exactly the kind of girl Christian should be with. When Blair opened the door, Fable looked equally as surprised to see her as she was to see the red head. "Charlie wasn't feeling good..." Blair attempted to explain to the other girl as she helped Charlie to her feet. The three girls stood there in an awkward silence, none of them knowing what to say until the obnoxiously loud sound of Blair's phone vibrating pierced through the air.

All eyes in the room flicked towards Blair's phone, which still lay on the floor, Ghost's name lighting up the screen. Why had Ghost texted her? Heat immediately rose to her cheeks as she realized that both girls had unintentionally learned some of Blair's personal business. The blonde stiffened as she reached down to grab her phone. "I should um...." panic set in as she wondered how to deal with this situation. She looked from Charlie to Fable, both women who knew a little too much about Blair at the current moment. Charlie had just colluded with Blair earlier that night during her fake ankle injury earlier. Fable had just concluded a devious plot with Blair and Ghost that involved kidnapping dauntless leadership. Yet Blair couldn't think of anything to say to either of them. "I should go..." She trailed off, shaking her head at her blatant lack of social skills as she made her way out of the bathroom. She looked down at her phone to read the text Ghost had sent her, and found herself oddly surprised that the instructor had cared enough about her well-being to text her in his drunken state. She quickly texted back with as much of an explanation as she was willing to give. Boy problems, psychic powers, pick your poison. I'm fine. she sent the first message quickly enough, and stared at the message thread for a moment before typing again. Thanks Ghost. She hadn't expected such a gesture, but it was much appreciated nonetheless.

She snaked her way through the throngs of dancing bodies in the crowded bar as she attempted to make her way towards the exit, mildly distracted as she tucked her phone back into her pocket, only to bump into a solid wall of muscle. Blair's ocean eyes immediately darted upward, her knees going weak as she beheld the all too familiar face of her boyfriend staring back at her. "Christian-" her breath hitched in her throat. Instinctively, Blair wiped under her eyes, attempting to hide any evidence of her earlier tears, although her red rimmed eyes probably still gave that away. "Hey, I'm sorry um.... I saw you dancing with Fable earlier and I..." she paused as her heart ached at the recollection. Despite the way her throat burned, her face betrayed nothing. "I didn't want to interrupt." She explained softly, her fingers reaching up to twist a piece of her hair absentmindedly.​