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Realistic or Modern ᴠᴇᴍʀᴏsᴇ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴍᴇʏ
- Thread starter clxssified
- Start date
MadiRaiCat
Wine Aunt
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clxssified
)
Charlize Winter
location
outside the academy, ready to enter
outfit
x
interactions
Harley (
clxssified
)
mentions
Wil
❛
The idle chatter was rather annoying. What was the point of small talk anyway? Who really cared to discuss the weather, or some obscure pop culture new that would be unimportant in a day, or even how hard an exam from that one idiotic teacher's class? It was all too trivial for Charlie. Those are the types of conversations people have when they're forced to talk to people they don't like or care about.
Charlie inhaled again from her cigarette, glancing over her shoulder at where the two guards who had transported her there still stood, leaning against the side of the car. They wore dark sunglasses that effectively hid any emotions from their expression. But Charlie could tell from their body language that they were just as annoyed about the situation as she was. Probably didn't really see the necessity of two arm men who were obviously stronger than her transporting a simple thief. Little did they know.
With a smirk, Charlie turned her attention back to the task at hand: trying to remain unnoticed. People with money liked to stick their noses in other peoples' business, at least that's what Charlie thought. They thought that just because they have money, they deserve to know whatever it is they wanted to know, gathering as much gossip fodder as possible for the next shit-talking club disguised as a gala or a party. Charlie still hadn't dealt with the emotions of what she had done, still hadn't truly addressed the blood that was on her hands. The last thing she needed was some snobby jerk finding out and putting her on blast in front of the entire academy like what seemed to be happening with one of the other people who had arrived in handcuffs.
Charlie had expected to hear a voice sound so close to her, and flinched ever so slightly. Narrowing her eyes, the blonde turned to glance at where the hoarse sound had come from, finding a petite girl with dark hair there. The girl was stoic it seemed, eyes hiding something that Charlie couldn't quite discern. She didn't seem dangerous, but then again, Charlie didn't either. So it was best to keep her guard up.
She placed her cigarette between her lips and inhaled deeply, letting the silence hang in the air between them a bit before answer. "I suppose so." With that, Charlie pulled the back and lighter from her pocket, offering the dark-haired girl a single cigarette and the fuel to light it. "I'm Charlie," she simply responded, slipping the items back into her pocket after the girl took what she wanted. "I take it you're also new to this hell hole?"
Charlie inhaled again from her cigarette, glancing over her shoulder at where the two guards who had transported her there still stood, leaning against the side of the car. They wore dark sunglasses that effectively hid any emotions from their expression. But Charlie could tell from their body language that they were just as annoyed about the situation as she was. Probably didn't really see the necessity of two arm men who were obviously stronger than her transporting a simple thief. Little did they know.
With a smirk, Charlie turned her attention back to the task at hand: trying to remain unnoticed. People with money liked to stick their noses in other peoples' business, at least that's what Charlie thought. They thought that just because they have money, they deserve to know whatever it is they wanted to know, gathering as much gossip fodder as possible for the next shit-talking club disguised as a gala or a party. Charlie still hadn't dealt with the emotions of what she had done, still hadn't truly addressed the blood that was on her hands. The last thing she needed was some snobby jerk finding out and putting her on blast in front of the entire academy like what seemed to be happening with one of the other people who had arrived in handcuffs.
Charlie had expected to hear a voice sound so close to her, and flinched ever so slightly. Narrowing her eyes, the blonde turned to glance at where the hoarse sound had come from, finding a petite girl with dark hair there. The girl was stoic it seemed, eyes hiding something that Charlie couldn't quite discern. She didn't seem dangerous, but then again, Charlie didn't either. So it was best to keep her guard up.
She placed her cigarette between her lips and inhaled deeply, letting the silence hang in the air between them a bit before answer. "I suppose so." With that, Charlie pulled the back and lighter from her pocket, offering the dark-haired girl a single cigarette and the fuel to light it. "I'm Charlie," she simply responded, slipping the items back into her pocket after the girl took what she wanted. "I take it you're also new to this hell hole?"
❜
[div class=link]coded by christy.
[/div]
MadiRaiCat
Wine Aunt
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clxssified
) and Cricket (@milkshake)
Finnegan Krona
location
foyer and out front of the academy
outfit
uniform
interactions
Tori (
clxssified
) and Cricket (@milkshake)
mentions
Holly, Keaton, Shiloh, Dahlia, Heath, Indie
❛
Finnegan put on his best, charming smile, having never been one to really start fights. The girls were gorgeous, that was easy to see. And Finn was always one to see the good in people, or at least people he deemed good enough to see the good in. These two looked like they would fit right in at Vemrose, and therefore Finnegan wanted to get to know them. The girls smiled back, and he was immediately transfixed. One spoke up, asking about giving him a nickname. Finn had been called "Finn" for pretty much his entire life, so he didn't really mind if they called him that too. Most people around the academy did anyway. He opened his mouth to answer, but the girl had already moved on, not waiting for his response. Finnegan read that as her just being excited, so he smiled and let her continue.
Before the guy really knew what was going on, a large bag that was deceivingly heavy was thrust into his hands and the girls grabbed on to either side of him. For most guys, two pretty girls on their arms would be heaven. And for Finn, it was the same. He at least knew how to be humble about it though. Completely ignoring the idea that they might be using him, both as a pack mule and a gossip source, Finnegan began to walk the two ladies up the stairs through the doors of Vemrose. "Oh, I'm not quite sure what you would want to know. Or what you don't already know anyway," he began, looking between them with a friendly grin.
"Well, I guess the best place to start is with Holly, since you kind of already know who she is. She's head girl around here, and pretty much what you would expect a prom queen to be. She's dating Keaton, who's more of a laid back type. Keaton's twin brother is Shiloh, but don't tell anyone I told you that. The two are back and forth a lot. Keaton is best friends with Dahlia, who's the prime minister and... Honestly, I'm probably not the best person to talk to about this," Finnegan paused, realizing he had been rambling for a while. He noticed another student walk by with a magazine in hand, and nodded towards them. "We have a student-run magazine pretty much entirely by Heath and Indie. They always seem to know what's going on around here. So, if you're interested, they would probably be the best two to talk to!" Finnegan paused in the foyer, looking from Cricket to Tori. "I don't think I ever caught your names?"
Before the guy really knew what was going on, a large bag that was deceivingly heavy was thrust into his hands and the girls grabbed on to either side of him. For most guys, two pretty girls on their arms would be heaven. And for Finn, it was the same. He at least knew how to be humble about it though. Completely ignoring the idea that they might be using him, both as a pack mule and a gossip source, Finnegan began to walk the two ladies up the stairs through the doors of Vemrose. "Oh, I'm not quite sure what you would want to know. Or what you don't already know anyway," he began, looking between them with a friendly grin.
"Well, I guess the best place to start is with Holly, since you kind of already know who she is. She's head girl around here, and pretty much what you would expect a prom queen to be. She's dating Keaton, who's more of a laid back type. Keaton's twin brother is Shiloh, but don't tell anyone I told you that. The two are back and forth a lot. Keaton is best friends with Dahlia, who's the prime minister and... Honestly, I'm probably not the best person to talk to about this," Finnegan paused, realizing he had been rambling for a while. He noticed another student walk by with a magazine in hand, and nodded towards them. "We have a student-run magazine pretty much entirely by Heath and Indie. They always seem to know what's going on around here. So, if you're interested, they would probably be the best two to talk to!" Finnegan paused in the foyer, looking from Cricket to Tori. "I don't think I ever caught your names?"
❜
[div class=link]coded by christy.
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clxssified
x o x o
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[div class=name]HARLEY.[/div]
[div class=leftTagContainer]
[div class=scroll]
[div class=tag]location[/div] outside.
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] charlie.
[div class=tag]tags[/div]
MadiRaiCat
.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] implied abuse. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] Harley took a long, deep drag on the gifted cigarette and held her inhale until the familiar feeling of dizziness set in. When she finally released the cloud of smoke, she felt better. As peaceful as she could be, given the circumstances. Finally, she looked back at the blonde, and simply said: "Thankyou."
Subconsciously she knew she was expressing appreciation for more than just the cigarette. Charlie could easily have brushed her off, either ignored her or insulted her, but instead she'd offered an (albeit blunt) welcome. Now she appeared to be striking up an actual conversation. It was inevitable, Harley supposed, that they would at least get along. Charlie, at first glance, had many of her own attributes, and above all else, they were trapped in the same situation. Perhaps it was a twisted way to bond.
"I am indeed," she smiled wryly. "Quite a place, isn't it? Beats prison, but only by a small margin. I heard the food's better, at least."
She was careful to avoid asking Charlie outright what had landed her at the school, but had dropped in a joking reference to her own sentence as a means to test the waters. It seemed crude to open a conversation by demanding to know if somebody was a fellow murderer, but despite her reservations, part of Harley was desperate to know.
That could wait, though.
"I'm not enjoying the whole uniform thing. We didn't have that at my old school."
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] charlie.
[div class=tag]tags[/div]
MadiRaiCat
.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] implied abuse. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] Harley took a long, deep drag on the gifted cigarette and held her inhale until the familiar feeling of dizziness set in. When she finally released the cloud of smoke, she felt better. As peaceful as she could be, given the circumstances. Finally, she looked back at the blonde, and simply said: "Thankyou."
Subconsciously she knew she was expressing appreciation for more than just the cigarette. Charlie could easily have brushed her off, either ignored her or insulted her, but instead she'd offered an (albeit blunt) welcome. Now she appeared to be striking up an actual conversation. It was inevitable, Harley supposed, that they would at least get along. Charlie, at first glance, had many of her own attributes, and above all else, they were trapped in the same situation. Perhaps it was a twisted way to bond.
"I am indeed," she smiled wryly. "Quite a place, isn't it? Beats prison, but only by a small margin. I heard the food's better, at least."
She was careful to avoid asking Charlie outright what had landed her at the school, but had dropped in a joking reference to her own sentence as a means to test the waters. It seemed crude to open a conversation by demanding to know if somebody was a fellow murderer, but despite her reservations, part of Harley was desperate to know.
That could wait, though.
"I'm not enjoying the whole uniform thing. We didn't have that at my old school."
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
clxssified
x o x o
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[div class=name]TORI.[/div]
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[div class=scroll]
[div class=tag]location[/div] hallway.
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] cricket, finn, heath.
[div class=tag]tags[/div]
MadiRaiCat
@milkshake.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] As Finn talked, Tori listened keenly, though her eyes were wandering elsewhere, scanning the crowd of students as they milled about. At the mention of a Head Girl, she peered past the boy to give Cricket a pointed look-- these were the sorts of details that were of interest. Sussing out the social hierarchy was always important when entering into a new community, because it let them know who they needed to befriend or, if it came down to it, usurp. When the pleasant hum of the boy's voice faltered, she turned her attention up to him and smiled sweetly.
"Oh, darling, you're doing wonderfully," Tori crooned, adding with a wink: "I feel like I'm in safe hands with you. I'm Tori."
Getting her claws into her first conquest would have to wait, however, as Finn directed her gaze to a pair of boys brandishing magazines. With Cricket's help, she steered Finn over to intercept them: he'd be able to bridge the gap, and she was unwilling to let him go so quickly. She reached out with her free hand to tap the taller of the pair on the back with one long, polished nail.
Heath spun, exasperated. "Can't you see I'm-- Oh, Finn, hi. You want a copy?" He rolled up one of the magazines and slipped it unceremoniously beneath one of the boy's already laden arms. As he did so, however, he finally seemed to register his companions, and his eyes widened. "You're... Finn, how the hell have you scored the Vega sisters? It's an honour, ladies. truly."
Tori frowned. Her eyes raked up and down the boy, from his glossed lips to his tailored blazer to his immaculate hair. Then, she arched an eyebrow. "Are you gay? You look gay."
"I'm Cricket," the girl spoke almost too quietly, and definitely too late. Her fingers never stopped moving, recording everything he said as quick as he said it. Her eyes raised at the sound of a new voice. Then they shot to Tori. "You can't just ask people if they're gay, Tori." A pause, "you text me and I tell you."
Her eyes went back to the boy. "It really is good to meet a fan, though. You want an autograph?" Her smile was teasing, her eyes dropping to the phone again as she sent Tori a link to the boy's entire life. The second Tori's phone buzzed she tapped in her password, skimmed the article, and giggled. When she looked back up, Heath was staring at the trio, half in awe, half in disbelief.
"I swing both ways," Heath's tone was casual, but his cheeks were flushed pink. He recovered with an arrogant smile. "Luckily for all of you."
"That's cool," Tori's interest had clearly immediately piqued. While she was clinging to Finn as though to publicize her 'dibs' on the poor boy, she eyed Heath, and then his magazines, and then the boy cowering behind him. "Who's the shadow?"
"Indie. Don't you worry your pretty heads about him, he's got enough on his plate. Anyway, Finn, are you giving them the grand tour? You want a hand?" Heath flashed a bright, too-white smile, before glancing back over his shoulder. "Indie, babe, be a lamb and finish delivering the magazines, would you? Thanks, you're a sweetheart."
Before the blonde could even open his mouth to reply, Heath took up the head of the pack. "Right, girls. What do you need to know?" [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] cricket, finn, heath.
[div class=tag]tags[/div]
MadiRaiCat
@milkshake.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] As Finn talked, Tori listened keenly, though her eyes were wandering elsewhere, scanning the crowd of students as they milled about. At the mention of a Head Girl, she peered past the boy to give Cricket a pointed look-- these were the sorts of details that were of interest. Sussing out the social hierarchy was always important when entering into a new community, because it let them know who they needed to befriend or, if it came down to it, usurp. When the pleasant hum of the boy's voice faltered, she turned her attention up to him and smiled sweetly.
"Oh, darling, you're doing wonderfully," Tori crooned, adding with a wink: "I feel like I'm in safe hands with you. I'm Tori."
Getting her claws into her first conquest would have to wait, however, as Finn directed her gaze to a pair of boys brandishing magazines. With Cricket's help, she steered Finn over to intercept them: he'd be able to bridge the gap, and she was unwilling to let him go so quickly. She reached out with her free hand to tap the taller of the pair on the back with one long, polished nail.
Heath spun, exasperated. "Can't you see I'm-- Oh, Finn, hi. You want a copy?" He rolled up one of the magazines and slipped it unceremoniously beneath one of the boy's already laden arms. As he did so, however, he finally seemed to register his companions, and his eyes widened. "You're... Finn, how the hell have you scored the Vega sisters? It's an honour, ladies. truly."
Tori frowned. Her eyes raked up and down the boy, from his glossed lips to his tailored blazer to his immaculate hair. Then, she arched an eyebrow. "Are you gay? You look gay."
"I'm Cricket," the girl spoke almost too quietly, and definitely too late. Her fingers never stopped moving, recording everything he said as quick as he said it. Her eyes raised at the sound of a new voice. Then they shot to Tori. "You can't just ask people if they're gay, Tori." A pause, "you text me and I tell you."
Her eyes went back to the boy. "It really is good to meet a fan, though. You want an autograph?" Her smile was teasing, her eyes dropping to the phone again as she sent Tori a link to the boy's entire life. The second Tori's phone buzzed she tapped in her password, skimmed the article, and giggled. When she looked back up, Heath was staring at the trio, half in awe, half in disbelief.
"I swing both ways," Heath's tone was casual, but his cheeks were flushed pink. He recovered with an arrogant smile. "Luckily for all of you."
"That's cool," Tori's interest had clearly immediately piqued. While she was clinging to Finn as though to publicize her 'dibs' on the poor boy, she eyed Heath, and then his magazines, and then the boy cowering behind him. "Who's the shadow?"
"Indie. Don't you worry your pretty heads about him, he's got enough on his plate. Anyway, Finn, are you giving them the grand tour? You want a hand?" Heath flashed a bright, too-white smile, before glancing back over his shoulder. "Indie, babe, be a lamb and finish delivering the magazines, would you? Thanks, you're a sweetheart."
Before the blonde could even open his mouth to reply, Heath took up the head of the pack. "Right, girls. What do you need to know?" [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
mikaluvkitties
Professional Unicorn Lover
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[div class=horizbar][div class=name]Aaron Anderson[/div][/div]
[div class=sidetextone]
loc.
int.
ment. [/div] [div class=sidetexttwo] academy
n/a
wil [/div] [div class=textbox][div class=scroll] Okay, so maybe Aaron hadn't been expecting that.
Maybe, in fact, Aaron was even a bit angry at the result of that interaction, the way nervous energy was beginning to flow through him, unable to do much more than tap a finger against his thigh as he watched Wilhelmina walk off, unable to even manage to say that yes, actually, an autograph would be great.
In the end, it was really his fault, though, wasn't it? Never meet your heroes and all that.
That was probably enough socialization, though, wasn't it? After all, if just that had gone so badly, who was to say Aaron wouldn't fuck up more horribly if he tried again.
That didn't mean he wanted to get separated from the group, though, so he trailed after the others at a sedate pace, hoping beyond hope that he'd be able to meet up with Cassian soon. This was already going poorly, but at least he wasn't dead, right?[/div][/div] [/div][/div][/div][/div]
int.
ment. [/div] [div class=sidetexttwo] academy
n/a
wil [/div] [div class=textbox][div class=scroll] Okay, so maybe Aaron hadn't been expecting that.
Maybe, in fact, Aaron was even a bit angry at the result of that interaction, the way nervous energy was beginning to flow through him, unable to do much more than tap a finger against his thigh as he watched Wilhelmina walk off, unable to even manage to say that yes, actually, an autograph would be great.
In the end, it was really his fault, though, wasn't it? Never meet your heroes and all that.
That was probably enough socialization, though, wasn't it? After all, if just that had gone so badly, who was to say Aaron wouldn't fuck up more horribly if he tried again.
That didn't mean he wanted to get separated from the group, though, so he trailed after the others at a sedate pace, hoping beyond hope that he'd be able to meet up with Cassian soon. This was already going poorly, but at least he wasn't dead, right?[/div][/div] [/div][/div][/div][/div]
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clxssified
x o x o
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[div class=name]M & S.[/div]
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[div class=tag]location[/div] teachers' lounge.
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] each other.
[div class=tag]credit[/div] rashida.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] Once the boys left, Madi launched into her rambling. She started with more information on the new students — nothing of value, unless you were interested in hairstyles — and then moved onto more obscure topics. Flowers. Colour schemes. Dresses. Obscure topics, unless you knew Madi enough to know her habit of dancing around issues. It was clear from the way she spoke, with every sentence laced with an unnatural giggle, to the way she concentrated on straightening the collar of Shiloh’s shirt rather than looking directly at him, that she had something to say. Or rather, something to ask. She shifted in his lap.
Shiloh watched Benji leave with narrowed eyes and a displeased smile. Did he always scurry like that ? They would have to work on that, it just wasn’t very becoming of him. Boys like them, they had to walk with a purpose—after all, they had the comfort of everyone else under their feet. Benji and Keaton were really just the oddest ducks, nothing about them was normal. Not like him or his Madi. Her voice was a sweet-toned buzz in his ear, occasionally responded to with a “Damn, really ?” or “Tell me more, baby”. Only when Shiloh realized how long she had been going on did he tune in. She spoke of dresses, color schemes, flowers, punctuating each sentence with a squeaky giggle. God, Madi was obvious, so, so obvious. Shiloh could’ve laughed, really. His hand snuck down to hold her thigh while the other turned her jaw, making sure she could face him directly. “Don’t waste both of our time, I get what you’re saying. Of course, I’ll take you to homecoming, don’t stress about it at all. All you’d need to do is look pretty anyway, I’ll handle planning."
She held his gaze, her breathing shallow with what could only be panic. Not at his touch, but something else, the thing that was really bothering her. Madi smiled shakily, keeping her face between his fingers.
“Oh! Homecoming, yes, I’d love to go with you. Maybe later you can help me pick out a dress, you’re so clever when it comes to that sort of thing, I don’t know how I’d cope witho—“
Suddenly, she cut her own simpering short, which was rare. Her eyes squeezed shut, and when they opened again, she was facing him as her equal.
Even though there was nothing equal about what she was about to propose.
“Shi, what I wanted to talk about... I didn’t mean the dance.”
Shiloh couldn’t say he was relived when Madi agreed to go to homecoming with him—he was a catch after all. And if he didn’t feel like it, he could always have Keaton go in his place and see if she’d notice.
“I really am that clever, aren’t I ? You’ll look good enough for me to be proud of”
That was his thing, planning. If he wanted something done, it’d get done sooner rather than later. Shiloh liked to be a step ahead of conversations because predictably went hand in hand with manipulative and he had Madi down to a T. That’s why his face contorted to a slow frown when Madi corrected herself, his eyebrows drawing together and his hand moving off her face. His other hand remained on her thigh and squeezed and it was unclear whether it was nervous or threatening.
“Oh ? Is it about after party plans ? Don’t bother worrying about that either.”
Even when he seemed dissatisfied, Madi didn’t look away. Eye contact was important when faced with a dangerous wild animal, and she sometimes wondered if Shiloh was any different. Maybe she’d remembered it wrong, maybe it was the other way around. In any case, she was in too deep to back up now. She had to stand — or in this case, sit — her ground.
There was no use in prolonging the inevitable now.
“They won’t give me my crown, Shi.”
Talking about Madi’s titles was a very rare occurrence. Introducing her technical power warped their well established power dynamic. But she was about to set it right, or so she hoped.
“They won’t give it to me unless... Unless I can find someone else to take it with me. We have Kings, you see, not lone Queens, and I was just thinking that maybe, if you...”
He couldn’t help it, he stood up, prostrate like a solider. Madi fell off his lap and he looked at her, on the floor where she belonged. His hand flexed, joints rolling and popping like gunshots in the silent room.
“You want me to marry you. You want me to be tethered to you for the rest of my life”
His tone was murky but the horrified curl in his lip made it obvious how much he wanted to distance himself from her. The idea of marrying Madi now—it disgusted him. She wasn’t ready yet, there were steps and goals and tasks and ways she needed to prove herself to him. It couldn’t happen this soon. Shiloh’s chest heaved and his eyes skittered from her face to the floor, from the floor to the ceiling. This was all too much.
“You need me.”
Too much too quickly, but it was too late before she realised her fatal error. Madi, taken by surprise, hit the floor and stayed there, scrambling into a kneeling position to draw herself up taller without daring to rise. She kept her eyes trained to him, this time as a precaution rather than an act of courage.
"That isn't what I meant, I don't want you to feel trapped, that's the last thing I wanted, I'm sorry, I never meant--"
And then he understood. The wording of his statement was, to Madi's panicked mind, promising.
"I do! I do, I need you. I can't do it without you." Literally. She fell silent, waiting, holding her breath.
Her apologies fell on deaf ears, Shiloh’s mind was too preoccupied with his own thoughts. This new development ruined the whole plan, the whole relationship. His fingers kept twitching, flexing, drumming against his thigh, and the muscles in his jaw and eye twitched in sync. A melt down was going to happen soon enough—and then Madi said the magic words “I can’t do it without you.”
Shiloh wanted to be needed, he wanted to be important to others. Maybe it was a childhood thing or just some stupid want but goddamn, did it make him feel good. He was still on edge, that much was clear, but the manic anger that hung around him was no longer present.
“Get off the floor and say it again”
It was too good to be true, surely, too easy. But despite her niggling worries, Madi leapt to her feet and clasped her hands together in front of her body. When she looked at him again, it was from below, through her lashes, her head angled towards the floor.
“I can’t do it without you. I just can’t.”
Now that the situation was on his favor, Shiloh calmed down. He didn’t need anything from Madi, he could dump her right now and live his life just the same— but he was everything to her. He was her future.
“If I’m keeping it completely truthful with you, Madison, just the concept of being legally bound to you repulsed me. Boyfriend is one thing, Husband—go make me a cup of coffee, would you ?—is another”.
Shiloh settled into his chair and yawned, like he had never moved in the first place.
“But you know, I like charity. I like you. I bet we could work something out”. Truthfully, Shiloh had never considered being a king, his inheritance and lack of responsibility suited him just fine but hey, anything for the less fortunate.
And he’d look stunning in a crown.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] each other.
[div class=tag]credit[/div] rashida.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] Once the boys left, Madi launched into her rambling. She started with more information on the new students — nothing of value, unless you were interested in hairstyles — and then moved onto more obscure topics. Flowers. Colour schemes. Dresses. Obscure topics, unless you knew Madi enough to know her habit of dancing around issues. It was clear from the way she spoke, with every sentence laced with an unnatural giggle, to the way she concentrated on straightening the collar of Shiloh’s shirt rather than looking directly at him, that she had something to say. Or rather, something to ask. She shifted in his lap.
Shiloh watched Benji leave with narrowed eyes and a displeased smile. Did he always scurry like that ? They would have to work on that, it just wasn’t very becoming of him. Boys like them, they had to walk with a purpose—after all, they had the comfort of everyone else under their feet. Benji and Keaton were really just the oddest ducks, nothing about them was normal. Not like him or his Madi. Her voice was a sweet-toned buzz in his ear, occasionally responded to with a “Damn, really ?” or “Tell me more, baby”. Only when Shiloh realized how long she had been going on did he tune in. She spoke of dresses, color schemes, flowers, punctuating each sentence with a squeaky giggle. God, Madi was obvious, so, so obvious. Shiloh could’ve laughed, really. His hand snuck down to hold her thigh while the other turned her jaw, making sure she could face him directly. “Don’t waste both of our time, I get what you’re saying. Of course, I’ll take you to homecoming, don’t stress about it at all. All you’d need to do is look pretty anyway, I’ll handle planning."
She held his gaze, her breathing shallow with what could only be panic. Not at his touch, but something else, the thing that was really bothering her. Madi smiled shakily, keeping her face between his fingers.
“Oh! Homecoming, yes, I’d love to go with you. Maybe later you can help me pick out a dress, you’re so clever when it comes to that sort of thing, I don’t know how I’d cope witho—“
Suddenly, she cut her own simpering short, which was rare. Her eyes squeezed shut, and when they opened again, she was facing him as her equal.
Even though there was nothing equal about what she was about to propose.
“Shi, what I wanted to talk about... I didn’t mean the dance.”
Shiloh couldn’t say he was relived when Madi agreed to go to homecoming with him—he was a catch after all. And if he didn’t feel like it, he could always have Keaton go in his place and see if she’d notice.
“I really am that clever, aren’t I ? You’ll look good enough for me to be proud of”
That was his thing, planning. If he wanted something done, it’d get done sooner rather than later. Shiloh liked to be a step ahead of conversations because predictably went hand in hand with manipulative and he had Madi down to a T. That’s why his face contorted to a slow frown when Madi corrected herself, his eyebrows drawing together and his hand moving off her face. His other hand remained on her thigh and squeezed and it was unclear whether it was nervous or threatening.
“Oh ? Is it about after party plans ? Don’t bother worrying about that either.”
Even when he seemed dissatisfied, Madi didn’t look away. Eye contact was important when faced with a dangerous wild animal, and she sometimes wondered if Shiloh was any different. Maybe she’d remembered it wrong, maybe it was the other way around. In any case, she was in too deep to back up now. She had to stand — or in this case, sit — her ground.
There was no use in prolonging the inevitable now.
“They won’t give me my crown, Shi.”
Talking about Madi’s titles was a very rare occurrence. Introducing her technical power warped their well established power dynamic. But she was about to set it right, or so she hoped.
“They won’t give it to me unless... Unless I can find someone else to take it with me. We have Kings, you see, not lone Queens, and I was just thinking that maybe, if you...”
He couldn’t help it, he stood up, prostrate like a solider. Madi fell off his lap and he looked at her, on the floor where she belonged. His hand flexed, joints rolling and popping like gunshots in the silent room.
“You want me to marry you. You want me to be tethered to you for the rest of my life”
His tone was murky but the horrified curl in his lip made it obvious how much he wanted to distance himself from her. The idea of marrying Madi now—it disgusted him. She wasn’t ready yet, there were steps and goals and tasks and ways she needed to prove herself to him. It couldn’t happen this soon. Shiloh’s chest heaved and his eyes skittered from her face to the floor, from the floor to the ceiling. This was all too much.
“You need me.”
Too much too quickly, but it was too late before she realised her fatal error. Madi, taken by surprise, hit the floor and stayed there, scrambling into a kneeling position to draw herself up taller without daring to rise. She kept her eyes trained to him, this time as a precaution rather than an act of courage.
"That isn't what I meant, I don't want you to feel trapped, that's the last thing I wanted, I'm sorry, I never meant--"
And then he understood. The wording of his statement was, to Madi's panicked mind, promising.
"I do! I do, I need you. I can't do it without you." Literally. She fell silent, waiting, holding her breath.
Her apologies fell on deaf ears, Shiloh’s mind was too preoccupied with his own thoughts. This new development ruined the whole plan, the whole relationship. His fingers kept twitching, flexing, drumming against his thigh, and the muscles in his jaw and eye twitched in sync. A melt down was going to happen soon enough—and then Madi said the magic words “I can’t do it without you.”
Shiloh wanted to be needed, he wanted to be important to others. Maybe it was a childhood thing or just some stupid want but goddamn, did it make him feel good. He was still on edge, that much was clear, but the manic anger that hung around him was no longer present.
“Get off the floor and say it again”
It was too good to be true, surely, too easy. But despite her niggling worries, Madi leapt to her feet and clasped her hands together in front of her body. When she looked at him again, it was from below, through her lashes, her head angled towards the floor.
“I can’t do it without you. I just can’t.”
Now that the situation was on his favor, Shiloh calmed down. He didn’t need anything from Madi, he could dump her right now and live his life just the same— but he was everything to her. He was her future.
“If I’m keeping it completely truthful with you, Madison, just the concept of being legally bound to you repulsed me. Boyfriend is one thing, Husband—go make me a cup of coffee, would you ?—is another”.
Shiloh settled into his chair and yawned, like he had never moved in the first place.
“But you know, I like charity. I like you. I bet we could work something out”. Truthfully, Shiloh had never considered being a king, his inheritance and lack of responsibility suited him just fine but hey, anything for the less fortunate.
And he’d look stunning in a crown.
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x o x o
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[div class=name]B & M.[/div]
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[div class=tag]location[/div] some room.
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[div class=tag]credit[/div] rashida.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] “I’ll go after him,” Benji announced, though to who, it was unclear. The moment the door had closed behind Keaton, Madi and Shiloh had become enamoured with each other again, and therefore he would’ve been able to slip out without giving any excuse at all.
He almost tripped over his own untied laces in his haste to get up the stairs. His satchel was awkward and unsightly slung over one shoulder, but it was much better than carrying around his sketchbook openly, and having either Madi’s innocent curiosity or Shiloh’s need to know everything expose his little secret.
Speaking of said secret, she was already waiting when he opened the door to what had once been a study, but was now their private meeting place.
“Sorry I’m late, I got caught up.”
Mercy had been organizing. It was a habit of hers, her therapist- recommended attempt to control her surroundings and calm down. Every bin in the storage room got stacked neatly on shelves and she perched on a particularly large one while her heart did cartwheels in her chest, anticipating his arrival. He was Benji—her close friend. Close enough that when he arrived, Mercy jolted forward, grinning ear to ear. Close enough that her fingertips wrapped around his bicep and she kissed his cheek softly, just to say hello. ”Did you get caught up with the twins ? or maybe a sketch ?” Letting go of his arm but still maintaining the proximity between the two, the youngest Shaw tossed her hair over her shoulder—a trick learned from Benji’s own sister with the intent to be used on anyone but him, and rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me Shiloh asked for a portrait again.”
The kiss was just a greeting but his heart fluttered in reply anyway. God, that was stupid, wasn’t it? Eighteen years old, practically raised by Shiloh Shaw, and here he was, fawning over a girl. Like a child, a lovesick puppy. Perhaps love got everyone in the end.
“Both, but in the opposite order,” Benji admitted with a grin, slipping his satchel down his arm and onto the floor without moving away or breaking from her gaze. “No portrait this time, luckily. I’m hoping the last one I did will be good enough to hang over his metaphorical throne.”
The grin remained on his face as he studied hers, chewing on the inside of his cheek — a nervous habit from his childhood that he’d never been able to shake — while he considered his next move. If he had read the situation wrong, even slightly, he might be about to ruin everything. If he was correct, however, he might be about to start something new.
“Let’s sit a sec, Mer. I had something I wanted to ask you.”
The sneaking around might be alluring to some but it made Mercy feel horrible. Cookie, Keaton, Shiloh, she was betraying them all by being here with Benji. It was puppy love, nothing to be ashamed of but she knew if the twins found out, it’d be blood. Good thing they never would.
“At some point, you have to start charging him for those or else he’ll never stop. That last portrait got photocopied and pinned to my door for a good week," Mercy tittered, her wariness trumped by how damn cute Benji was.
She liked him, God, she really liked him a lot. And knowing he felt the same practically drove her mad. It was the fact that he really was interested in her, not just the way her hips curved or how her voice pitched when she yawned. They’d done nothing like that. All of her little eccentricities and mannerisms that Benji had prodded at when they children had become attractive to him now and Mercy could think about it for days.
“Of course, anything. Anything you want—you want me to hear, I mean. I’m listening”.
She sat with her hands folded in her lap, eagerly awaiting his next words.
"Homecoming," he blurted, having barely contained it while she responded. Beni stopped to steady his nerves, and then repeated himself with shaky confidence. "Homecoming. I was wondering if, uh, you wanted to go. I figured, like... the twins have dates probably, so..."
He frowned, "I don't want to go with you just because of that, though! I wanna go with you because you're you. Do you, uh," his mouth felt dry, "you get what I'm saying?"
Mercy’s face, never able to hide an expression, contorted rapidly. She was smiling at first, flushing pink and batting her lashes. Imagine—Benji wanted to go to homecoming with her. He was kin with her brothers and there was no shortage of girls cozying up to her before asking where Shiloh was and if he was with Keaton and was there a chance Benji would join them. He could have all of them but he asked her.
“Oh.”
And then the reality of the situation hit her, Shiloh’s anger and however Cordelia would react. It’d be cruel, downright cruel, to show up with Benji, without anyone knowing what they were beforehand. Her brothers would never trust her again, they’d be mad, Jesus they’d be so mad.
Silently, Mercedes drew into herself, sliding away from Benji and looking anywhere but him. “I want to, I’d like to a lot, but it, it wouldn’t work. This doesn’t work and we both know why and I couldn’t, I couldn’t handle upsetting anyone and there are other girls, pretty girls, you could take, to the dance, to go the dance with”.
She was stumbling over her words, nothing like the poised pleasant tone she had before. This was just a necessary sacrifice, to keep everything together, how it was before.
Benji froze, and not in a sweet, overwhelmed way. This had not been the outcome he’d emotionally prepared himself for: sure, he’d been expecting a refusal, but not really. That was just something the self deprecating part of his brain had made him consider. Too much of his time had been spent on how he’d react and which suit he’d wear when Mercy said yes. He hadn’t planned for this.
With no plan to launch into, Benji did the only thing he knew how to do: close up. His body stiffened and he nodded.
“Sure, that’s cool. You’re probably right.”
Everything ached.
“I’ll take Cookie. She’ll be here in time and she loves dances.”
He’d have to tell his sister he didn’t need the extra alterations to his suit he'd asked for after all. Another blow to handle.
Where was he supposed to go from here?
“I, um, remembered, I have shit to do today, so... I can’t stay for long.”
Mercedes looked ahead, relaxed and blank. Her whole face—it was void, void of anything and everything. Moments like this made the resemblance between her and the twins glaringly apparent. Emotion would only make the situation harder for both of them. The girl had known Benji for years and the strain in his tone was easy to spot, God forbid someone start crying.
“It’ll all work out, you just wait. We’ll see each other, maybe dance together, and keep it going—but not whatever this is. I know you have a lot to do and I’ll leave you to it, got to go meet Casper soon anyway”.
And she stood and she left and let the door close after. No goodbye. Mercy was a Shaw after all, and everyone knew what type of person they were.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] each other.
[div class=tag]credit[/div] rashida.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] “I’ll go after him,” Benji announced, though to who, it was unclear. The moment the door had closed behind Keaton, Madi and Shiloh had become enamoured with each other again, and therefore he would’ve been able to slip out without giving any excuse at all.
He almost tripped over his own untied laces in his haste to get up the stairs. His satchel was awkward and unsightly slung over one shoulder, but it was much better than carrying around his sketchbook openly, and having either Madi’s innocent curiosity or Shiloh’s need to know everything expose his little secret.
Speaking of said secret, she was already waiting when he opened the door to what had once been a study, but was now their private meeting place.
“Sorry I’m late, I got caught up.”
Mercy had been organizing. It was a habit of hers, her therapist- recommended attempt to control her surroundings and calm down. Every bin in the storage room got stacked neatly on shelves and she perched on a particularly large one while her heart did cartwheels in her chest, anticipating his arrival. He was Benji—her close friend. Close enough that when he arrived, Mercy jolted forward, grinning ear to ear. Close enough that her fingertips wrapped around his bicep and she kissed his cheek softly, just to say hello. ”Did you get caught up with the twins ? or maybe a sketch ?” Letting go of his arm but still maintaining the proximity between the two, the youngest Shaw tossed her hair over her shoulder—a trick learned from Benji’s own sister with the intent to be used on anyone but him, and rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me Shiloh asked for a portrait again.”
The kiss was just a greeting but his heart fluttered in reply anyway. God, that was stupid, wasn’t it? Eighteen years old, practically raised by Shiloh Shaw, and here he was, fawning over a girl. Like a child, a lovesick puppy. Perhaps love got everyone in the end.
“Both, but in the opposite order,” Benji admitted with a grin, slipping his satchel down his arm and onto the floor without moving away or breaking from her gaze. “No portrait this time, luckily. I’m hoping the last one I did will be good enough to hang over his metaphorical throne.”
The grin remained on his face as he studied hers, chewing on the inside of his cheek — a nervous habit from his childhood that he’d never been able to shake — while he considered his next move. If he had read the situation wrong, even slightly, he might be about to ruin everything. If he was correct, however, he might be about to start something new.
“Let’s sit a sec, Mer. I had something I wanted to ask you.”
The sneaking around might be alluring to some but it made Mercy feel horrible. Cookie, Keaton, Shiloh, she was betraying them all by being here with Benji. It was puppy love, nothing to be ashamed of but she knew if the twins found out, it’d be blood. Good thing they never would.
“At some point, you have to start charging him for those or else he’ll never stop. That last portrait got photocopied and pinned to my door for a good week," Mercy tittered, her wariness trumped by how damn cute Benji was.
She liked him, God, she really liked him a lot. And knowing he felt the same practically drove her mad. It was the fact that he really was interested in her, not just the way her hips curved or how her voice pitched when she yawned. They’d done nothing like that. All of her little eccentricities and mannerisms that Benji had prodded at when they children had become attractive to him now and Mercy could think about it for days.
“Of course, anything. Anything you want—you want me to hear, I mean. I’m listening”.
She sat with her hands folded in her lap, eagerly awaiting his next words.
"Homecoming," he blurted, having barely contained it while she responded. Beni stopped to steady his nerves, and then repeated himself with shaky confidence. "Homecoming. I was wondering if, uh, you wanted to go. I figured, like... the twins have dates probably, so..."
He frowned, "I don't want to go with you just because of that, though! I wanna go with you because you're you. Do you, uh," his mouth felt dry, "you get what I'm saying?"
Mercy’s face, never able to hide an expression, contorted rapidly. She was smiling at first, flushing pink and batting her lashes. Imagine—Benji wanted to go to homecoming with her. He was kin with her brothers and there was no shortage of girls cozying up to her before asking where Shiloh was and if he was with Keaton and was there a chance Benji would join them. He could have all of them but he asked her.
“Oh.”
And then the reality of the situation hit her, Shiloh’s anger and however Cordelia would react. It’d be cruel, downright cruel, to show up with Benji, without anyone knowing what they were beforehand. Her brothers would never trust her again, they’d be mad, Jesus they’d be so mad.
Silently, Mercedes drew into herself, sliding away from Benji and looking anywhere but him. “I want to, I’d like to a lot, but it, it wouldn’t work. This doesn’t work and we both know why and I couldn’t, I couldn’t handle upsetting anyone and there are other girls, pretty girls, you could take, to the dance, to go the dance with”.
She was stumbling over her words, nothing like the poised pleasant tone she had before. This was just a necessary sacrifice, to keep everything together, how it was before.
Benji froze, and not in a sweet, overwhelmed way. This had not been the outcome he’d emotionally prepared himself for: sure, he’d been expecting a refusal, but not really. That was just something the self deprecating part of his brain had made him consider. Too much of his time had been spent on how he’d react and which suit he’d wear when Mercy said yes. He hadn’t planned for this.
With no plan to launch into, Benji did the only thing he knew how to do: close up. His body stiffened and he nodded.
“Sure, that’s cool. You’re probably right.”
Everything ached.
“I’ll take Cookie. She’ll be here in time and she loves dances.”
He’d have to tell his sister he didn’t need the extra alterations to his suit he'd asked for after all. Another blow to handle.
Where was he supposed to go from here?
“I, um, remembered, I have shit to do today, so... I can’t stay for long.”
Mercedes looked ahead, relaxed and blank. Her whole face—it was void, void of anything and everything. Moments like this made the resemblance between her and the twins glaringly apparent. Emotion would only make the situation harder for both of them. The girl had known Benji for years and the strain in his tone was easy to spot, God forbid someone start crying.
“It’ll all work out, you just wait. We’ll see each other, maybe dance together, and keep it going—but not whatever this is. I know you have a lot to do and I’ll leave you to it, got to go meet Casper soon anyway”.
And she stood and she left and let the door close after. No goodbye. Mercy was a Shaw after all, and everyone knew what type of person they were.
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[div class=name]H & K.[/div]
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[div class=tag]location[/div] bathroom.
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] each other.
[div class=tag]credit[/div] rashida.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] After a period of retching over the toilet to no avail, Holly had settled on the counter in the third-floor girls’ bathroom — or, as it was more commonly known, her bathroom — to regain her composure. She still hadn’t figured out the cause of her little turn, and now she was beginning to wonder if she even wanted to know at all.
The smoke from her menthol cigarette curled in delicate tendrils around her head on its journey towards the ceiling, where it hung in a mist with nowhere else to go. Later she’d open the window, but her legs still felt weak and the haze in the room was oddly comforting. Nobody had come after her.
They never did.
Her fingers shook as she drew another cigarette from the packet, and then it hit her: menthols are for chicks.
Who had said that?
The polish on her index finger was chipped and she obsessed over that until the memory she couldn’t quite reach dissipated and was replaced with thoughts of the here and now as the door swung open.
“Oh, good. My lighter’s out of gas, have you got one?” Holly asked calmly, wiping her mascara streaked cheek with the back of her hand. She waited for him to close the door, and then leaned forward.
“Keaton... Do you ever feel like something bad happened to you, but you can’t remember what?”
“No. I feel like I have this sign floating above my head that spells out every bad thing I’ve done or had done to me. Like a leper.”
The bathroom was always empty and the scent of menthols was always there, like a calling card to him. There was no need for hellos with him and Holly, they both knew pleasantries were for those who cared.
Keaton settled his back on the door and slouched, like a animal admitting it bore no harm. He fished for a lighter, pink and plastered with stickers, and handed it to Holliday. The boy’s eyes rested on her lips and it was clear that he wasn’t comfortable enough to look her in her eyes yet.
“It‘s Mercedes' but if it makes you laugh, you can believe it’s mine.”
"A leper? Sexy." Holly laughed and plucked the lighter from his fingers, sparking her cigarette before holding it out to return it. "I believe you, totally. It's okay to like pink, y'know, lots of people do. Personally, I reckon it'd suit you."
She paused, took a drag, and then reached out to slot the cigarette between Keaton's lips. "I didn't see you earlier. Not interested in the fresh meat?"
Keaton took a drag from the cigarette and then shifted it to the side, letting it rest in the corner of his mouth. Him and Shiloh used to do it often, mimicking mobsters from their father’s old movies.
“Not really, Shiloh’s lapdog got sent to scope them out and her findings were standard, to say the most”.
Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he paused for a second and shook his head approvingly. They were menthols.
“We can stop with the small talk now, if you want. I know you’re not in here because of the ambience.”
She supposed she didn't have the right to be annoyed at his perceived intrusion: after all, Holly spent a lot of time wishing somebody would pry into her private life. Besides, Keaton was someone she could trust. He'd kept enough secrets for her already.
The trouble was, this time she didn't know what was actually wrong.
"I bailed on the welcoming committee. I was up there, talking them through everything, and I just... I don't know. Maybe public speaking's not my thing." Holly offered a wry smile and produced a second cigarette, which she lit from the cherry of the one that had become Keaton's. The smoke from the first puff was blown teasingly into his face as she sidestepped around the topic at hand. "If I'm not here for the ambience, you certainly aren't. Did you come for a smoke?"
Another pause, this time for effect. Then, theatrically, her hand fluttered to her chest in a pantomime of a girl they knew all too well.
"Ohh, baby, did you come here for little ol' me?"
It was an odd little scene, beauty queen Holiday giving the time of day to the dead-eyed loner in the girls' bathroom. These type of things didn’t happen in real life, at least in Keaton’s. Fear, of embarrassment, of rejection, of Holly just up and laughing in his face, plagued him. Still, he played it cool, slouched against the door with the cigarette and the oh-so-handsome glare.
“Oh, Holly, they’ll have your head for that. The committee needs their figurehead." His sentence was punctuated by a laugh, a rare sound for Keaton but he knew how true the words he spoke were.
He laughed again when Holly blew smoke at him, jokingly pushing her away with his finger tips. “Okay, Madison, I’ll tell you why I did if you agree to stop playing games with me. Tell me what’s on your mind and I’ll do the same—it’s a safe space here in the girls bathroom."
“You know I’m a guarantee for Homecoming Queen. That plastic crown is made to measure,” Holly spread her arms, cigarette hanging from her mouth to mirror Keaton. She laughed with him when he reciprocated her impression, and continued. “How should I know what’s on my mind? You should be telling me all of that!”
Her laughter continued but trailed off when Keaton’s statement continued to hang in the air between them.
“I don’t lie to you, babe. If I knew what was wrong I’d tell you. I just can’t figure it out. You know when you wake up, and you try and remember the dream you just had, but you can’t? That’s how it feels.”
“It’s this place, I think. It’s a fucking vortex, just sucks everything in. And honestly, if I can tell you what—“, Keaton paused to take a drag from the cigarette and opened his arms, not for dramatic effect but that’s how it seemed. “You’ll remember. People never forget bad things, that's why they’re so bad. You’ll be on stage or maybe in class or sleeping and that memory, it’s just gonna run right into you. That’s just how it is."
He felt no need to shrug or laugh or blow off the impact of his sentence, everything he said, he meant and knew was true. It happened often.
His words brought Holly some comfort and she settled back against the mirror to mull the idea over while she finished her cigarette. They spent a few moments in a warm, comfortable silence before she stubbed the aforementioned cigarette out with a flourish and leaned forwards, tracing one lacquered nail in a circle on her thigh.
“We had a deal. I told you my dumb thing, now you tell me yours. Why are you here?”
Keaton blew smoke back in her face as she leaned forward, finally looking her in her eyes.
“Because I want to kill my brother and every day, I get a little closer."
It wasn’t the confession itself that made Holly pause, but something else. The vague sense she’d been here before.
She brushed it off.
“When you do, I’ll bail you out. Ride or die, baby.” Holly slid from the counter and headed past him, waiting til he dutifully stepped aside to open the door. Before she left, however, she studied his face closely and smiled.
“You’re a fucking freak. I love you, you know that, right?”
It was unclear whether the question was purposeful, or whether it’d slipped out by accident.
“Save me a dance, or seven. We can plot the perfect crime."
And she was gone.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] each other.
[div class=tag]credit[/div] rashida.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] After a period of retching over the toilet to no avail, Holly had settled on the counter in the third-floor girls’ bathroom — or, as it was more commonly known, her bathroom — to regain her composure. She still hadn’t figured out the cause of her little turn, and now she was beginning to wonder if she even wanted to know at all.
The smoke from her menthol cigarette curled in delicate tendrils around her head on its journey towards the ceiling, where it hung in a mist with nowhere else to go. Later she’d open the window, but her legs still felt weak and the haze in the room was oddly comforting. Nobody had come after her.
They never did.
Her fingers shook as she drew another cigarette from the packet, and then it hit her: menthols are for chicks.
Who had said that?
The polish on her index finger was chipped and she obsessed over that until the memory she couldn’t quite reach dissipated and was replaced with thoughts of the here and now as the door swung open.
“Oh, good. My lighter’s out of gas, have you got one?” Holly asked calmly, wiping her mascara streaked cheek with the back of her hand. She waited for him to close the door, and then leaned forward.
“Keaton... Do you ever feel like something bad happened to you, but you can’t remember what?”
“No. I feel like I have this sign floating above my head that spells out every bad thing I’ve done or had done to me. Like a leper.”
The bathroom was always empty and the scent of menthols was always there, like a calling card to him. There was no need for hellos with him and Holly, they both knew pleasantries were for those who cared.
Keaton settled his back on the door and slouched, like a animal admitting it bore no harm. He fished for a lighter, pink and plastered with stickers, and handed it to Holliday. The boy’s eyes rested on her lips and it was clear that he wasn’t comfortable enough to look her in her eyes yet.
“It‘s Mercedes' but if it makes you laugh, you can believe it’s mine.”
"A leper? Sexy." Holly laughed and plucked the lighter from his fingers, sparking her cigarette before holding it out to return it. "I believe you, totally. It's okay to like pink, y'know, lots of people do. Personally, I reckon it'd suit you."
She paused, took a drag, and then reached out to slot the cigarette between Keaton's lips. "I didn't see you earlier. Not interested in the fresh meat?"
Keaton took a drag from the cigarette and then shifted it to the side, letting it rest in the corner of his mouth. Him and Shiloh used to do it often, mimicking mobsters from their father’s old movies.
“Not really, Shiloh’s lapdog got sent to scope them out and her findings were standard, to say the most”.
Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he paused for a second and shook his head approvingly. They were menthols.
“We can stop with the small talk now, if you want. I know you’re not in here because of the ambience.”
She supposed she didn't have the right to be annoyed at his perceived intrusion: after all, Holly spent a lot of time wishing somebody would pry into her private life. Besides, Keaton was someone she could trust. He'd kept enough secrets for her already.
The trouble was, this time she didn't know what was actually wrong.
"I bailed on the welcoming committee. I was up there, talking them through everything, and I just... I don't know. Maybe public speaking's not my thing." Holly offered a wry smile and produced a second cigarette, which she lit from the cherry of the one that had become Keaton's. The smoke from the first puff was blown teasingly into his face as she sidestepped around the topic at hand. "If I'm not here for the ambience, you certainly aren't. Did you come for a smoke?"
Another pause, this time for effect. Then, theatrically, her hand fluttered to her chest in a pantomime of a girl they knew all too well.
"Ohh, baby, did you come here for little ol' me?"
It was an odd little scene, beauty queen Holiday giving the time of day to the dead-eyed loner in the girls' bathroom. These type of things didn’t happen in real life, at least in Keaton’s. Fear, of embarrassment, of rejection, of Holly just up and laughing in his face, plagued him. Still, he played it cool, slouched against the door with the cigarette and the oh-so-handsome glare.
“Oh, Holly, they’ll have your head for that. The committee needs their figurehead." His sentence was punctuated by a laugh, a rare sound for Keaton but he knew how true the words he spoke were.
He laughed again when Holly blew smoke at him, jokingly pushing her away with his finger tips. “Okay, Madison, I’ll tell you why I did if you agree to stop playing games with me. Tell me what’s on your mind and I’ll do the same—it’s a safe space here in the girls bathroom."
“You know I’m a guarantee for Homecoming Queen. That plastic crown is made to measure,” Holly spread her arms, cigarette hanging from her mouth to mirror Keaton. She laughed with him when he reciprocated her impression, and continued. “How should I know what’s on my mind? You should be telling me all of that!”
Her laughter continued but trailed off when Keaton’s statement continued to hang in the air between them.
“I don’t lie to you, babe. If I knew what was wrong I’d tell you. I just can’t figure it out. You know when you wake up, and you try and remember the dream you just had, but you can’t? That’s how it feels.”
“It’s this place, I think. It’s a fucking vortex, just sucks everything in. And honestly, if I can tell you what—“, Keaton paused to take a drag from the cigarette and opened his arms, not for dramatic effect but that’s how it seemed. “You’ll remember. People never forget bad things, that's why they’re so bad. You’ll be on stage or maybe in class or sleeping and that memory, it’s just gonna run right into you. That’s just how it is."
He felt no need to shrug or laugh or blow off the impact of his sentence, everything he said, he meant and knew was true. It happened often.
His words brought Holly some comfort and she settled back against the mirror to mull the idea over while she finished her cigarette. They spent a few moments in a warm, comfortable silence before she stubbed the aforementioned cigarette out with a flourish and leaned forwards, tracing one lacquered nail in a circle on her thigh.
“We had a deal. I told you my dumb thing, now you tell me yours. Why are you here?”
Keaton blew smoke back in her face as she leaned forward, finally looking her in her eyes.
“Because I want to kill my brother and every day, I get a little closer."
It wasn’t the confession itself that made Holly pause, but something else. The vague sense she’d been here before.
She brushed it off.
“When you do, I’ll bail you out. Ride or die, baby.” Holly slid from the counter and headed past him, waiting til he dutifully stepped aside to open the door. Before she left, however, she studied his face closely and smiled.
“You’re a fucking freak. I love you, you know that, right?”
It was unclear whether the question was purposeful, or whether it’d slipped out by accident.
“Save me a dance, or seven. We can plot the perfect crime."
And she was gone.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
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clxssified
x o x o
EPISODE ONE: HOMECOMING
AIMS: ESTABLISH RELATIONSHIPS
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[div class=name]HOLLY.[/div]
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[div class=tag]location[/div] main hall.
AIMS: ESTABLISH RELATIONSHIPS
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[div class=tag]outfit[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] Homecoming had been a lot more fun last time, Holly was sure of it. There was a strange atmosphere that night, and the cause was clear: it’d only been a few days since the arrival of the new students, and neither they nor the existing students had quite acclimatised yet. The idea was that the Homecoming Dance would double as a welcome party and ease some of the tension.
So far, it didn’t seem to be working all that well.
Barely anybody was watching her coronation, but she didn’t mind. It was better this way, and besides, not everyone had even arrived.
For once, Daniel hadn’t even bothered to announce it to get anybody’s attention, and Holly couldn’t tell whether the whole debacle was to make her happy, or to make him happy.
Katrina Bolton was beautiful, ethereally so. Not like a fairy, though: she had the polished, crisp charm of a statue carved from ice. Her painted lips, blood red against her pale skin and paler hair, drew into a smile as she nestled the tiara atop Holly’s dark, curled locks. She remembered being told that Katrina had several times been crowned too, when she had been a student.
And now she was back, reliving the glory days. Holly hoped privately that she never ended up that way.
Finally, Daniel — Headmaster Bolton — stepped forwards to deliver his speech and declare that the night had begun.
“So now that the coronation has concluded—“
They hadn’t even crowned a King.
“— I’d like to formally commence the evening.”
What’s a Queen without a King?
“I speak for all of us here at Vemrose when I say that I hope this evening provides a chance for everyone to get to know one another a little better.”
Holly looked to her right and saw Katrina’s kohl-rimmed eyes as she listened to her husband. Empty venom in a sea of piercing blue. That was enough for Holly to answer her own question.
Historically, better off.
“Now please enjoy: we have refreshments on the table by the window, including of course our famous punch.”
Suddenly, something stirred inside Holly’s body. She wanted to tear the tiara from her head and scream.
DON’T DRINK THE PUNCH DON’T DRINK THE PUNCH DON’TDRINKITDON’TDRINKITDON’T
The band began to play.
Daniel and his wife moved off to the side, suddenly engaged in an inaudible but apparently grave conversation.
Holly joined the crowd.
The party began.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
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x o x o
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[div class=name]COOKIE.[/div]
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[div class=tag]interacts[/div] n/a.
[div class=tag]tags[/div] n/a.
[div class=tag]outfit[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] There was a certain satisfaction to be found in being uprooted, dumped in a completely foreign environment, having two hours between arrival and the first social event of the year, and still turning up on time looking amazing. Cordelia prided herself on her resilience, and she wasn’t about to let her carefully cultivated image go down the drain simply because the biggest bombshell of her teenage years had been dropped on her. It’d been awful, catastrophic even, and she was surprised she’d even survived.
They’d sent her to school.
Cookie had been doing just fine in a life of entrepreneurship cushioned by her family’s money, but suddenly, her financial successes had not been sufficient. One letter had been all it had taken to completely ruin all of her plans. How was she supposed to do things like launch her national line of animal-print jumpsuits if she had to juggle homework as well? Homeschooling had been the solution until Cookie had reached fifteen and passed all of her relevant exams prematurely. She couldn’t understand why in the world anyone would think she needed a stint at Vemrose.
Of course her parents, whose worlds revolved around her, had sympathised. They were so proud of their girl, unlike her brother, but they couldn’t ignore a direct order which had come straight from the top. Emperor Cadenza herself had instructed that Cookie be placed into Vemrose for the upcoming academic year, citing no reason beyond a single cryptic message: SOMETHING BIG IS COMING.
And something big had come: Cookie’s tantrum.
For thirteen days, she’d moped and cried and bargained and slammed doors and left passive aggressive notes on every appliance in the family home. Finally, they’d managed to pry her from the comfort of her bedroom and sent her on her way to join Benji in time for the back-to-school dance.
Now she was there, and she couldn’t be more disgusted. After events held by royalty and government officials alike, Vemrose Academy’s little ‘do paled in comparison. Cookie loitered by the door, sulking, waiting.
Waiting for something, she didn’t know what. Mercy, perhaps, or her own brother. Even Mercy’s brothers would have sufficed.
Because despite Cookie’s over confidence and disdain for the whole affair, she was nervous, even self conscious.
Everyone loved Cookie.
But what if they didn’t this time?
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] n/a.
[div class=tag]tags[/div] n/a.
[div class=tag]outfit[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] There was a certain satisfaction to be found in being uprooted, dumped in a completely foreign environment, having two hours between arrival and the first social event of the year, and still turning up on time looking amazing. Cordelia prided herself on her resilience, and she wasn’t about to let her carefully cultivated image go down the drain simply because the biggest bombshell of her teenage years had been dropped on her. It’d been awful, catastrophic even, and she was surprised she’d even survived.
They’d sent her to school.
Cookie had been doing just fine in a life of entrepreneurship cushioned by her family’s money, but suddenly, her financial successes had not been sufficient. One letter had been all it had taken to completely ruin all of her plans. How was she supposed to do things like launch her national line of animal-print jumpsuits if she had to juggle homework as well? Homeschooling had been the solution until Cookie had reached fifteen and passed all of her relevant exams prematurely. She couldn’t understand why in the world anyone would think she needed a stint at Vemrose.
Of course her parents, whose worlds revolved around her, had sympathised. They were so proud of their girl, unlike her brother, but they couldn’t ignore a direct order which had come straight from the top. Emperor Cadenza herself had instructed that Cookie be placed into Vemrose for the upcoming academic year, citing no reason beyond a single cryptic message: SOMETHING BIG IS COMING.
And something big had come: Cookie’s tantrum.
For thirteen days, she’d moped and cried and bargained and slammed doors and left passive aggressive notes on every appliance in the family home. Finally, they’d managed to pry her from the comfort of her bedroom and sent her on her way to join Benji in time for the back-to-school dance.
Now she was there, and she couldn’t be more disgusted. After events held by royalty and government officials alike, Vemrose Academy’s little ‘do paled in comparison. Cookie loitered by the door, sulking, waiting.
Waiting for something, she didn’t know what. Mercy, perhaps, or her own brother. Even Mercy’s brothers would have sufficed.
Because despite Cookie’s over confidence and disdain for the whole affair, she was nervous, even self conscious.
Everyone loved Cookie.
But what if they didn’t this time?
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
eclipsa
faerie sightings
eclipsa
faerie sightings
clxssified
x o x o
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[/div]
[div class=name]LOVETT.[/div]
[div class=leftTagContainer]
[div class=scroll]
[div class=tag]location[/div] bedroom.
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] lorde.
[div class=tag]tags[/div] @milkshake .
[div class=tag]outfit[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] He was useless. Utterly and completely useless.
Lovett stood in front of his mirror, cheeks flushed with exertion and embarrassment. If he couldn't even conquer this thing that he was wrestling with, how could he hope to achieve anything at all? What would Lorde think of him? He had to fix it before he came, because if she knew, he wasn't sure how she'd react. She might be disappointed, and he didn't know if he could stomach that.
The knocks at the door startled him. Slowly, carefully, he crept towards it before pausing, hand hovering over the doorknob, chewing his lower lip. Maybe she wouldn't hate him. Maybe his honesty would be an attractive quality.
It was the only option.
He opened the door.
"Lorde," he began, his face a mirror of his defeat, "I... I need to tell you something."
Wringing his hands, he retreated back towards his mirror, leaving her free to enter the room and ideally close the door behind herself. Once she was inside he collapsed into his desk chair, exasperated, and turned to face her.
"I can't tie my tie."
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] lorde.
[div class=tag]tags[/div] @milkshake .
[div class=tag]outfit[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] He was useless. Utterly and completely useless.
Lovett stood in front of his mirror, cheeks flushed with exertion and embarrassment. If he couldn't even conquer this thing that he was wrestling with, how could he hope to achieve anything at all? What would Lorde think of him? He had to fix it before he came, because if she knew, he wasn't sure how she'd react. She might be disappointed, and he didn't know if he could stomach that.
The knocks at the door startled him. Slowly, carefully, he crept towards it before pausing, hand hovering over the doorknob, chewing his lower lip. Maybe she wouldn't hate him. Maybe his honesty would be an attractive quality.
It was the only option.
He opened the door.
"Lorde," he began, his face a mirror of his defeat, "I... I need to tell you something."
Wringing his hands, he retreated back towards his mirror, leaving her free to enter the room and ideally close the door behind herself. Once she was inside he collapsed into his desk chair, exasperated, and turned to face her.
"I can't tie my tie."
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
clxssified
x o x o
[class=variables]
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padding: 15px;
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font-weight: 900;
text-align: center;
border-bottom: 4px solid var(--color);
width: 120px;
display: block;
margin: 10% auto;
font-size: 18px;
position: relative;
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width: 100%;
height: 90px;
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justify-content: space-between;
margin: 10px auto;
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width: 90px;
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background-size: cover;
background-position: 50% 50%;
filter: saturate(70%);
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display: inline-block;
border-bottom: 1px solid var(--color);
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[div class=img style="background-image: url('https://66.media.tumblr.com/7135cd9ff2c9e840a67ac85c52fefa60/30ced1ec46954fb3-3d/s640x960/c540d354a738c8dcb9b2a535db5676cd5d6d40d4.png')"][/div]
[div class=img style="background-image: url('https://66.media.tumblr.com/95f42b1b15323ecec2f947e55fd18679/5c5c4f2a8831b41e-f2/s640x960/66fbdc1f05ecbfe0fba264c73dc33a9fb1c985aa.png')"][/div]
[/div]
[div class=name]E & W.[/div]
[div class=leftTagContainer]
[div class=scroll]
[div class=tag]location[/div] bedroom.
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] n/a.
[div class=tag]tags[/div] .
[div class=tag]outfit[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] It wasn’t that Edmund hated dances. In fact, he loved them: growing up in a technologically un-advanced kingdom meant that traditional means of entertainment were all he had, and events were the highlight of his social calendar. But usually, he would start his night with Dawson, and despite his denial, he felt ill at ease without him.
There was also the glaring issue that his date for the evening was a criminal.
Edmund hadn’t sulked this badly since he was a child. As he trudged down the corridor, dragging his feet to prolong his time alone, he mulled the situation over in his head. He didn’t know this girl, and if he was being honest, he didn’t care to. In his eyes, a grave injustice was being committed against him.
He knocked.
Wilhelmina stared at the door for what felt like an eternity before even considering opening it. She still had to adjust to the fact that she wasn’t in prison anymore-- this was her room. The teenage girl hesitantly grabbed at the doorknob, her other hand pulling at the hem of her skirt.
“Oh,” she said flatly. “It’s you.” Her eyes narrowed to analyze his appearance. She had been told by the administration earlier that someone was assigned to help her adjust. Unfortunately, they also had to take her to the homecoming dance.
She didn't appear to be at all pleased to see Edmund, which surprised him. Normally girls threw themselves at him, and while obviously the mere idea repulsed him, he was expecting this girl to be even more desperate for his affection. The blow to his ego was so heavy that for a moment, he froze, blinking.
Then he took in her appearance and the ghost of a smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. Perhaps the arrangement wasn't quite as dreadful as he'd assumed.
"Edmund," he stated, drawing himself up defensively. "It's... a pleasure."
“Wil,” she sighed, fully opening the door. “I’m sure it is.” A chuckle managed to escape her lips when she said that. It felt like the karma gods were laughing down at her; they knew pairing her with a noble would be interesting for both parties.
Wilhelmina began to walk back to her dresser, leaving the door open for Edmund to walk in. She peered at herself through the mirror in a mixture of distaste and confusion. The academy had supplied her with clothing and a homecoming outfit, but they had severely failed. The polka-dotted blue dress barely covered her 5’10” figure and hung off of her like a sack.
She felt a little guilty for caring about her appearance. Despite all of her hardships in the past year, she still wanted to look pretty. And who could blame her? She was eighteen. Everyone deserved to feel nice.
“So,” Wil broke from her reflection, turning back to her date. “How the hell did you get stuck with me?”
"Lucky dip, I suppose," Edmund replied, strolling into the room after her and immediately plucking a few objects up here and there for an unwelcome invasion of Wil's privacy. He suddenly seemed to think he'd been too civil, and raised an eyebrow. "Or unlucky dip, depending on how you look at it."
Making himself comfortable, he chose her bed as a seat and sank down onto it. For a few moments, he watched her examine herself in silence, and finally decided she needed his opinion. "The dress is hideous. I hate to be the one to tell you, but... did you make that? It might be time for another hobby."
“No, asshole,” She rolled her eyes. The girl couldn’t decide if she liked him or not. “Leopold found it for me. Lucky dip, I suppose.”
He chuckled, appreciating her moxie. "I actually prefer 'Your Royal Asshole', if you would be so kind," Edmund corrected, seriously enough, though his smile was widening. "Give me a minute, don't go anywhere."
And then, without any further explanation, he got up and left. Wil was left on her own for the best part of fifteen minutes before he finally returned, cradling a bundle of fabric, acting like his disappearance either hadn't happened, or was completely normal.
"Try this. I tried to judge your size by eye. Don't question where I got it. I think it'll suit you better."
Wilhelmina raised a cautious eyebrow to the boy. “What, you just carry around women’s dresses?”
"I told you not to question!"
She took the garment, regardless of oddity, and walked herself to the bathroom. After a few minutes, she reappeared in a flowy pink and brown dress. Though clichéd, her demeanor seemed to change with the new outfit.
"I'm a genius. It does suit you better."
“Maybe this is your perfect hobby.” She smiled for a moment, but it quickly faded as she remembered that she was about to descend into a hellscape of snobby rich elites.
Edmund seemed alright. She couldn’t trust anyone too fast, but it felt comfortable that there was a certain escape-person that she could run to temporarily if things were looking bad.
“Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
He offered her his arm, semi-mockingly, but frowned at her statement. Then, he laughed nervously, as though she had said something uncomfortable. "Wil -- if I can call you that -- we're going to a dance. There's no... 'popsicle stand'."
Wil furrowed her eyebrows. “Just take me to the ballroom, stupid.”
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] n/a.
[div class=tag]tags[/div] .
[div class=tag]outfit[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] It wasn’t that Edmund hated dances. In fact, he loved them: growing up in a technologically un-advanced kingdom meant that traditional means of entertainment were all he had, and events were the highlight of his social calendar. But usually, he would start his night with Dawson, and despite his denial, he felt ill at ease without him.
There was also the glaring issue that his date for the evening was a criminal.
Edmund hadn’t sulked this badly since he was a child. As he trudged down the corridor, dragging his feet to prolong his time alone, he mulled the situation over in his head. He didn’t know this girl, and if he was being honest, he didn’t care to. In his eyes, a grave injustice was being committed against him.
He knocked.
Wilhelmina stared at the door for what felt like an eternity before even considering opening it. She still had to adjust to the fact that she wasn’t in prison anymore-- this was her room. The teenage girl hesitantly grabbed at the doorknob, her other hand pulling at the hem of her skirt.
“Oh,” she said flatly. “It’s you.” Her eyes narrowed to analyze his appearance. She had been told by the administration earlier that someone was assigned to help her adjust. Unfortunately, they also had to take her to the homecoming dance.
She didn't appear to be at all pleased to see Edmund, which surprised him. Normally girls threw themselves at him, and while obviously the mere idea repulsed him, he was expecting this girl to be even more desperate for his affection. The blow to his ego was so heavy that for a moment, he froze, blinking.
Then he took in her appearance and the ghost of a smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. Perhaps the arrangement wasn't quite as dreadful as he'd assumed.
"Edmund," he stated, drawing himself up defensively. "It's... a pleasure."
“Wil,” she sighed, fully opening the door. “I’m sure it is.” A chuckle managed to escape her lips when she said that. It felt like the karma gods were laughing down at her; they knew pairing her with a noble would be interesting for both parties.
Wilhelmina began to walk back to her dresser, leaving the door open for Edmund to walk in. She peered at herself through the mirror in a mixture of distaste and confusion. The academy had supplied her with clothing and a homecoming outfit, but they had severely failed. The polka-dotted blue dress barely covered her 5’10” figure and hung off of her like a sack.
She felt a little guilty for caring about her appearance. Despite all of her hardships in the past year, she still wanted to look pretty. And who could blame her? She was eighteen. Everyone deserved to feel nice.
“So,” Wil broke from her reflection, turning back to her date. “How the hell did you get stuck with me?”
"Lucky dip, I suppose," Edmund replied, strolling into the room after her and immediately plucking a few objects up here and there for an unwelcome invasion of Wil's privacy. He suddenly seemed to think he'd been too civil, and raised an eyebrow. "Or unlucky dip, depending on how you look at it."
Making himself comfortable, he chose her bed as a seat and sank down onto it. For a few moments, he watched her examine herself in silence, and finally decided she needed his opinion. "The dress is hideous. I hate to be the one to tell you, but... did you make that? It might be time for another hobby."
“No, asshole,” She rolled her eyes. The girl couldn’t decide if she liked him or not. “Leopold found it for me. Lucky dip, I suppose.”
He chuckled, appreciating her moxie. "I actually prefer 'Your Royal Asshole', if you would be so kind," Edmund corrected, seriously enough, though his smile was widening. "Give me a minute, don't go anywhere."
And then, without any further explanation, he got up and left. Wil was left on her own for the best part of fifteen minutes before he finally returned, cradling a bundle of fabric, acting like his disappearance either hadn't happened, or was completely normal.
"Try this. I tried to judge your size by eye. Don't question where I got it. I think it'll suit you better."
Wilhelmina raised a cautious eyebrow to the boy. “What, you just carry around women’s dresses?”
"I told you not to question!"
She took the garment, regardless of oddity, and walked herself to the bathroom. After a few minutes, she reappeared in a flowy pink and brown dress. Though clichéd, her demeanor seemed to change with the new outfit.
"I'm a genius. It does suit you better."
“Maybe this is your perfect hobby.” She smiled for a moment, but it quickly faded as she remembered that she was about to descend into a hellscape of snobby rich elites.
Edmund seemed alright. She couldn’t trust anyone too fast, but it felt comfortable that there was a certain escape-person that she could run to temporarily if things were looking bad.
“Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
He offered her his arm, semi-mockingly, but frowned at her statement. Then, he laughed nervously, as though she had said something uncomfortable. "Wil -- if I can call you that -- we're going to a dance. There's no... 'popsicle stand'."
Wil furrowed her eyebrows. “Just take me to the ballroom, stupid.”
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
clxssified
x o x o
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[div class=name]BIRDIE.[/div]
[div class=leftTagContainer]
[div class=scroll]
[div class=tag]location[/div] ballroom.
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] maia.
[div class=tag]tags[/div] n/a.
[div class=tag]outfit[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] The students who milled around her were in surprisingly good spirits, and while Birdie would usually have been thrilled to hear so much laughter and see so many smiling faces, it made her want to scream. They were blissfully ignorant to the fact that they could be in unimaginable danger. Her hand shook as she raised the plastic cup of punch she'd been given by one of her more regular visitors to her lips, trying to moisten her painfully dry throat.
As soon as she locked eyes with Maia, the drink was forgotten, dropped to the floor where it promptly spilled. She hurried over and, without considering how inappropriate the action was, grasped the girl firmly by the wrists without breaking eye contact.
"Tell me the truth, Maia. Have you seen him?"
"What the hell, Birdie?" Maia snatched her hands back. Her brows furrowed and she stared at the other girl. "Seen who?"
Birdie's now-free hands clasped together as her eyes bore into Maia's. She couldn't tell whether the girl was playing games, feigning ignorance, or whether she truly didn't know. Perhaps she was making a mistake. It was entirely possible that Maia was just as unaware as the other students, and that bringing up certain people could trigger her and damage her recovery. But, as unethical as it was, it was a chance that had to be taken.
"Soren."
Panic crept through Maia. Worse than when she had seen the tall boy before. "Soren is gone, Birdie." Her fingers twitched and her hands shook. She fumbled with her strap to calm down. "Are you on drugs or something?"
Even though she knew that Maia was right, the statement wrenched a sob from Birdie's chest. She took a stumbling step back.
"I'm not, I... I'm sorry, I just... I thought he'd been here."
"Maybe you need a shrink." Maia turned on her heel, feeling an episode coming over her rapidly. She needed to get out. To get away.
"Be careful," Birdie murmured to no-one.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] maia.
[div class=tag]tags[/div] n/a.
[div class=tag]outfit[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] The students who milled around her were in surprisingly good spirits, and while Birdie would usually have been thrilled to hear so much laughter and see so many smiling faces, it made her want to scream. They were blissfully ignorant to the fact that they could be in unimaginable danger. Her hand shook as she raised the plastic cup of punch she'd been given by one of her more regular visitors to her lips, trying to moisten her painfully dry throat.
As soon as she locked eyes with Maia, the drink was forgotten, dropped to the floor where it promptly spilled. She hurried over and, without considering how inappropriate the action was, grasped the girl firmly by the wrists without breaking eye contact.
"Tell me the truth, Maia. Have you seen him?"
"What the hell, Birdie?" Maia snatched her hands back. Her brows furrowed and she stared at the other girl. "Seen who?"
Birdie's now-free hands clasped together as her eyes bore into Maia's. She couldn't tell whether the girl was playing games, feigning ignorance, or whether she truly didn't know. Perhaps she was making a mistake. It was entirely possible that Maia was just as unaware as the other students, and that bringing up certain people could trigger her and damage her recovery. But, as unethical as it was, it was a chance that had to be taken.
"Soren."
Panic crept through Maia. Worse than when she had seen the tall boy before. "Soren is gone, Birdie." Her fingers twitched and her hands shook. She fumbled with her strap to calm down. "Are you on drugs or something?"
Even though she knew that Maia was right, the statement wrenched a sob from Birdie's chest. She took a stumbling step back.
"I'm not, I... I'm sorry, I just... I thought he'd been here."
"Maybe you need a shrink." Maia turned on her heel, feeling an episode coming over her rapidly. She needed to get out. To get away.
"Be careful," Birdie murmured to no-one.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
eclipsa
faerie sightings
clxssified
x o x o
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[div class=name]M & S.[/div]
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[div class=tag]location[/div] hallway.
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] each other.
[div class=tag]credit[/div] rashida.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] gaslighting. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] “I’m friends with Daniel, you know ? And my friends are your friends and baby, they’ll be watching us tonight."
Shiloh’s thumb stroked circles into Madi’s cheekbone as he cupped her face, his touch tender as always. He was a nice boy, that Shiloh, polite and kind and thoughtful.
“Do anything that makes me look bad and I swear I’ll kill you.”
They maintained eye contact throughout the conversation, the man’s hands made sure of that, and his pupils were black quarters in his eyes. It’s because he loved Madi, loved what he had created.
“Be a good girl. You can talk to Mercy when we get there but I always want you in my line of sight. Don’t talk to Keaton, say something pleasant to Holly and make sure she knows you came with me. You’re not stupid anymore, I know you’ll act right and everyone will notice how good we are together”.
While he talked, Madi listened, and nodded as best she could given her restricted movement. Part of her couldn't believe what he was saying to her. It was almost unthinkable.
Because she was always a good girl.
"I'll make you proud, don't worry. I'm excited! I love dances, and I love you. It's going to be a great night," she smiled.
He gave her a small smile in return, his thumb now attempting to bore holes in her face. He wanted to see if she’d move.
“I expect new things of you now, if you’re going to be my wife.”
It was almost amazing how quickly Shiloh had flipped from hating her proposal to dangling it above her head, like being with him forever was a reward.
“Repeat that all back to me ? I just want to make sure you understand, baby, I know how confused you get."
She flinched, but didn't pull away. The mention of their impending marriage brought another smile to her face, which stayed on her flushed face as she took a deep breath before parroting his instructions back to him.
"I'm going to compliment Holly and tell her I came with you, but I'm going to avoid talking to Keaton. I might talk to Mercy too but if I do, I'll make sure you can see me the whole time. I'm going to act right, and everyone is going to think we look great together." Madi reached up to gingerly touch one of his hands as the pressure against her face continued to build. "Is that everything?"
Shiloh’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Oh, Madi.
“Why wouldn’t I want you to talk to Keaton ? He’s my brother and we’re close. Do you not like him ? Is there something wrong with him ? And we’re like the same person too, Madi—is there something wrong with me?”
He stopped speaking and the silence seemed to extend into oblivion. His hands went still on her face and the threat of physical violence hung in the air until he laughed it off, tucking his hands back into the pockets of his jacket.
“I’m just fucking around with you. See, how you confused you get ? You thought I told you not to talk to Keaton. Stick with me and I’ll keep you straight”.
Madi wasn't scared of Shiloh, ever, because she loved him and he loved her. But she was scared of upsetting him, and their conversation had quickly taken a frightening turn. She was so nervous in fact, that she didn't even reply to his question: if she tried, she was sure she'd make everything even worse.
Then he laughed, and everything was okay again. Madi released a breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding and visibly relaxed as she echoed his laugh softly.
"You're right, I'm sorry. I'm probably just over-excited and can't think properly. I'm lucky I've got you." With that, she leaned against him and looped her arms around his neck. "You should be careful though, Shi. If you keep proving how much I need you, you won't be able to shake me all night."
Shiloh only muttered something about personal space and smiled before he set to removing Madi’s arms from his neck. One arm down straight at her side and the other curved on her left hip, to be linked through his of course. They had to come in together. He pulled up the front of her dress, wiped an imaginary smudge off her face and and grimaced—“I’m not fond of this color lipstick on you. Remember to throw it away when you get back to your dorm."
And then the smile, the million dollar Shaw grin that had people laying at Shiloh’s feet for years, was back. They linked arms and he pressed a kiss against her cheek, quick and informal. “Let's go in now, Madi, and I can show everyone how beautiful my girl is. We’ll do great things tonight”.
"Not just tonight," Madi reminded with a smile.
As they began to walk, she turned her head to the side to dab her lipstick off with the back of her hand.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] each other.
[div class=tag]credit[/div] rashida.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] gaslighting. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] “I’m friends with Daniel, you know ? And my friends are your friends and baby, they’ll be watching us tonight."
Shiloh’s thumb stroked circles into Madi’s cheekbone as he cupped her face, his touch tender as always. He was a nice boy, that Shiloh, polite and kind and thoughtful.
“Do anything that makes me look bad and I swear I’ll kill you.”
They maintained eye contact throughout the conversation, the man’s hands made sure of that, and his pupils were black quarters in his eyes. It’s because he loved Madi, loved what he had created.
“Be a good girl. You can talk to Mercy when we get there but I always want you in my line of sight. Don’t talk to Keaton, say something pleasant to Holly and make sure she knows you came with me. You’re not stupid anymore, I know you’ll act right and everyone will notice how good we are together”.
While he talked, Madi listened, and nodded as best she could given her restricted movement. Part of her couldn't believe what he was saying to her. It was almost unthinkable.
Because she was always a good girl.
"I'll make you proud, don't worry. I'm excited! I love dances, and I love you. It's going to be a great night," she smiled.
He gave her a small smile in return, his thumb now attempting to bore holes in her face. He wanted to see if she’d move.
“I expect new things of you now, if you’re going to be my wife.”
It was almost amazing how quickly Shiloh had flipped from hating her proposal to dangling it above her head, like being with him forever was a reward.
“Repeat that all back to me ? I just want to make sure you understand, baby, I know how confused you get."
She flinched, but didn't pull away. The mention of their impending marriage brought another smile to her face, which stayed on her flushed face as she took a deep breath before parroting his instructions back to him.
"I'm going to compliment Holly and tell her I came with you, but I'm going to avoid talking to Keaton. I might talk to Mercy too but if I do, I'll make sure you can see me the whole time. I'm going to act right, and everyone is going to think we look great together." Madi reached up to gingerly touch one of his hands as the pressure against her face continued to build. "Is that everything?"
Shiloh’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Oh, Madi.
“Why wouldn’t I want you to talk to Keaton ? He’s my brother and we’re close. Do you not like him ? Is there something wrong with him ? And we’re like the same person too, Madi—is there something wrong with me?”
He stopped speaking and the silence seemed to extend into oblivion. His hands went still on her face and the threat of physical violence hung in the air until he laughed it off, tucking his hands back into the pockets of his jacket.
“I’m just fucking around with you. See, how you confused you get ? You thought I told you not to talk to Keaton. Stick with me and I’ll keep you straight”.
Madi wasn't scared of Shiloh, ever, because she loved him and he loved her. But she was scared of upsetting him, and their conversation had quickly taken a frightening turn. She was so nervous in fact, that she didn't even reply to his question: if she tried, she was sure she'd make everything even worse.
Then he laughed, and everything was okay again. Madi released a breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding and visibly relaxed as she echoed his laugh softly.
"You're right, I'm sorry. I'm probably just over-excited and can't think properly. I'm lucky I've got you." With that, she leaned against him and looped her arms around his neck. "You should be careful though, Shi. If you keep proving how much I need you, you won't be able to shake me all night."
Shiloh only muttered something about personal space and smiled before he set to removing Madi’s arms from his neck. One arm down straight at her side and the other curved on her left hip, to be linked through his of course. They had to come in together. He pulled up the front of her dress, wiped an imaginary smudge off her face and and grimaced—“I’m not fond of this color lipstick on you. Remember to throw it away when you get back to your dorm."
And then the smile, the million dollar Shaw grin that had people laying at Shiloh’s feet for years, was back. They linked arms and he pressed a kiss against her cheek, quick and informal. “Let's go in now, Madi, and I can show everyone how beautiful my girl is. We’ll do great things tonight”.
"Not just tonight," Madi reminded with a smile.
As they began to walk, she turned her head to the side to dab her lipstick off with the back of her hand.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
eclipsa
faerie sightings
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[div class=main][div class=box][div class=leftbox][div class=pic1][/div][div class=pic2][/div][/div][div class=rightbox][div class=pic3][/div][div class=pic4][/div][/div][div class=top]OLIVER
location ; room then dance | tags ; n/a[/div][div class=scroll1][div class=scroll2][div class=scroll3]Oliver stared at his fingernails, he missed late nights with Logan when she'd paint them for him. They looked better than when he did it himself. He hadn't talked to her much since her royal friend — boyfriend? — had granted her asylum in his kingdom. They didn't have internet. "Who doesn't have internet?" He groaned, running his hands through his hair, defeated.
He threw the suit jacket the school had given him on the bed and noticed some of the pages of slang he was drafting to give to Cece. He smiled, thinking about her. She was so effortlessly perfect. Oliver hadn't ever met anyone like her.
Wearing a shirt he had stolen from a celebrity's house with Logan, he strolled out of his dorm to head to the dance. He couldn't remember if he was supposed to have a chaperone, but honestly he didn't need one. Without his sister he didn't have the same gumption for crime.
The dance was pretty well decorated he guessed. He didn't have anything to compare it to, though. They'd never had the money to go to dances, and if they had their foster families would have never allowed it. A cup of punch later and he was trying to decide what his next move would be. Maybe more punch.[/div][/div][/div]
location ; room then dance | tags ; n/a[/div][div class=scroll1][div class=scroll2][div class=scroll3]Oliver stared at his fingernails, he missed late nights with Logan when she'd paint them for him. They looked better than when he did it himself. He hadn't talked to her much since her royal friend — boyfriend? — had granted her asylum in his kingdom. They didn't have internet. "Who doesn't have internet?" He groaned, running his hands through his hair, defeated.
He threw the suit jacket the school had given him on the bed and noticed some of the pages of slang he was drafting to give to Cece. He smiled, thinking about her. She was so effortlessly perfect. Oliver hadn't ever met anyone like her.
Wearing a shirt he had stolen from a celebrity's house with Logan, he strolled out of his dorm to head to the dance. He couldn't remember if he was supposed to have a chaperone, but honestly he didn't need one. Without his sister he didn't have the same gumption for crime.
The dance was pretty well decorated he guessed. He didn't have anything to compare it to, though. They'd never had the money to go to dances, and if they had their foster families would have never allowed it. A cup of punch later and he was trying to decide what his next move would be. Maybe more punch.[/div][/div][/div]
milk inc
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[/div]
[div class=name]TOBIAS.[/div]
[div class=leftTagContainer]
[div class=scroll]
[div class=tag]location[/div] hall.
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] maia, rory.
[div class=tag]creds[/div] nicole .
[div class=tag]tw[/div] alcohol, self harm. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] Despite his claims, and the sheer size of him, Tobias did not hold his liquor well. By the time he'd finally stumbled his way down to the main hall, he'd unbuttoned the top portion of his shirt, tousled his hair, and abandoned his tie along the way. He had told a portrait of an elderly man on the second floor that he was going for a 'sexy, disheveled look'.
He paused in the doorway to fumble with his hipflask and take a deep, burning drink as he surveyed the room, looking for some sort of excitement. As soon as he'd wandered in, excitement appeared in the form of one particular brunette.
"Maia! Where you off to in such a hurry, little lady?"
"You look like a fucking asshole, you know that right?" Maia rolled her eyes. "And if you ever call me little lady again I'll make sure no girl ever sleeps with you again." Her tone was venomous. She hadn't spoken to him since their falling out. Her fists were clenched. She was nearly to the door.
"Now can you get out of my way, I need to go to the bathroom."
"Hey, no need to be snappy. Come on, Maia, don't you wanna have fun with me?" Tobias drawled and waved the flask in front of her face. "We always have fun, don't we? Cheer up."
"Of course you're drunk." She pushed his hand down with shaking fingers. "I don't want to do this right now, Tobias."
It was at that moment that Rory, unable to read a situation properly, finally caught up to Maia and proudly presented her with the cup of punch he'd promised before finding out just how long the queue was.
"Sorry I took so long."
"Who the fuck is this?" Tobias grinned, lowering his arm. "You wanted a date, and you didn't even ask me? I'm hurt!"
Maia didn't even glance at Rory before she put her hand under the cup and knocked it into him. She heard the liquid pouring on him and it made her stomach turned. It reminded her of something. "Get the fuck out of my way Tobias. And you get the fuck away too, Richard."
As Tobias roared with laughter, Rory leapt back, an angry red stain blossoming on his shirt. He blinked, confused, and then in a small voice:
"It's uh, it's Rory."
"Doesn't seem like she cares, mate. Off you go."
He scurried off, ironically in the direction of the bathroom, and Tobias grinned. "Now, where were we?"
"Can you just drop it? For fuck's sake Tobias, why are you acting like such a child?" She was becoming exasperated. Her tone was losing its ice and becoming nearly desperate. She needed out before it hit. Before she couldn't see straight anymore.
She didn't even feel the spider on her shoulder. Didn't see the spiders on the wall. Watching from the ceiling. She was in a panic, almost going over the edge.
Finally, Tobias seemed to snap back to some sort of sanity, and pocketed the flask. He stayed silent for a moment, staring at her curiously, and then reached out.
“Don’t move a sec. Don’t panic, I’m not making a move.”
His tone was gentler than before, reassuring: he’d seen the spider creeping its way up Maia’s shoulder. It was only little, but even in his whiskey-soaked state he knew that size didn’t matter in terms of phobias. He plucked it off.
Maia's breathing stopped for a moment when he removed the spider. How he noticed when she didn't was beyond her. She stared at him for a moment. Eyes starting to water. There was another one of them on the wall by his head. She was breaking into a cold sweat.
"Can we finish whatever this is later? Please?" She'd never said please to someone before. She didn't like it.
His brow furrowed, but when he nodded and replied, that same gentle tone of voice remained. “Of course. Come get me if you need me.”
Maia's hand grazed against his. She nodded a little, then practically ran to the bathroom. She bit her hand so no one would hear her scream. She stared at her reflection. She looked a mess. She looked broken.
Eight legs on the mirror. She stared at it. Then she drove her fist into the glass. The spider didn't even get hit. She stared at her bloody knuckles, examining the glass stuck in her skin.
The pain felt familiar. The blood made her vision go red. White walls and red blood. White walls and red blood.
White walls.
Red blood.
It should have been you instead of him.
She punched the glass again, with her other fist. Blood trickled down her palms. She felt herself spiraling. Her stomach became sick, and she ran to a stall to throw up.
Kaj should be here, not you. [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] maia, rory.
[div class=tag]creds[/div] nicole .
[div class=tag]tw[/div] alcohol, self harm. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] Despite his claims, and the sheer size of him, Tobias did not hold his liquor well. By the time he'd finally stumbled his way down to the main hall, he'd unbuttoned the top portion of his shirt, tousled his hair, and abandoned his tie along the way. He had told a portrait of an elderly man on the second floor that he was going for a 'sexy, disheveled look'.
He paused in the doorway to fumble with his hipflask and take a deep, burning drink as he surveyed the room, looking for some sort of excitement. As soon as he'd wandered in, excitement appeared in the form of one particular brunette.
"Maia! Where you off to in such a hurry, little lady?"
"You look like a fucking asshole, you know that right?" Maia rolled her eyes. "And if you ever call me little lady again I'll make sure no girl ever sleeps with you again." Her tone was venomous. She hadn't spoken to him since their falling out. Her fists were clenched. She was nearly to the door.
"Now can you get out of my way, I need to go to the bathroom."
"Hey, no need to be snappy. Come on, Maia, don't you wanna have fun with me?" Tobias drawled and waved the flask in front of her face. "We always have fun, don't we? Cheer up."
"Of course you're drunk." She pushed his hand down with shaking fingers. "I don't want to do this right now, Tobias."
It was at that moment that Rory, unable to read a situation properly, finally caught up to Maia and proudly presented her with the cup of punch he'd promised before finding out just how long the queue was.
"Sorry I took so long."
"Who the fuck is this?" Tobias grinned, lowering his arm. "You wanted a date, and you didn't even ask me? I'm hurt!"
Maia didn't even glance at Rory before she put her hand under the cup and knocked it into him. She heard the liquid pouring on him and it made her stomach turned. It reminded her of something. "Get the fuck out of my way Tobias. And you get the fuck away too, Richard."
As Tobias roared with laughter, Rory leapt back, an angry red stain blossoming on his shirt. He blinked, confused, and then in a small voice:
"It's uh, it's Rory."
"Doesn't seem like she cares, mate. Off you go."
He scurried off, ironically in the direction of the bathroom, and Tobias grinned. "Now, where were we?"
"Can you just drop it? For fuck's sake Tobias, why are you acting like such a child?" She was becoming exasperated. Her tone was losing its ice and becoming nearly desperate. She needed out before it hit. Before she couldn't see straight anymore.
She didn't even feel the spider on her shoulder. Didn't see the spiders on the wall. Watching from the ceiling. She was in a panic, almost going over the edge.
Finally, Tobias seemed to snap back to some sort of sanity, and pocketed the flask. He stayed silent for a moment, staring at her curiously, and then reached out.
“Don’t move a sec. Don’t panic, I’m not making a move.”
His tone was gentler than before, reassuring: he’d seen the spider creeping its way up Maia’s shoulder. It was only little, but even in his whiskey-soaked state he knew that size didn’t matter in terms of phobias. He plucked it off.
Maia's breathing stopped for a moment when he removed the spider. How he noticed when she didn't was beyond her. She stared at him for a moment. Eyes starting to water. There was another one of them on the wall by his head. She was breaking into a cold sweat.
"Can we finish whatever this is later? Please?" She'd never said please to someone before. She didn't like it.
His brow furrowed, but when he nodded and replied, that same gentle tone of voice remained. “Of course. Come get me if you need me.”
Maia's hand grazed against his. She nodded a little, then practically ran to the bathroom. She bit her hand so no one would hear her scream. She stared at her reflection. She looked a mess. She looked broken.
Eight legs on the mirror. She stared at it. Then she drove her fist into the glass. The spider didn't even get hit. She stared at her bloody knuckles, examining the glass stuck in her skin.
The pain felt familiar. The blood made her vision go red. White walls and red blood. White walls and red blood.
White walls.
Red blood.
It should have been you instead of him.
She punched the glass again, with her other fist. Blood trickled down her palms. She felt herself spiraling. Her stomach became sick, and she ran to a stall to throw up.
Kaj should be here, not you. [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
eclipsa
faerie sightings
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[div class=main][div class=box][div class=leftbox][div class=pic1][/div][div class=pic2][/div][/div][div class=rightbox][div class=pic3][/div][div class=pic4][/div][/div][div class=top][div class=top2][div class=top3]CRICKET & TORI & HEATH & XAVIER
location ; dance | tags ;
clxssified
[/div][/div][/div][div class=scroll1][div class=scroll2][div class=scroll3]The Vega sisters had obviously secured excellent dates. Though, Cricket was a little bit suspicious of Tori's. No one's record was that clean. She did appreciate the attitude he had when he told off one the school's big three. It was impressive. She watched the girl's interactions with multiple people, even recording her spilling a drink on someone. After the video was filmed she immediately posted it. maia: vemrose royalty or vemrose nutcase? She smirked as she watched people check their phones.
Since meeting Cricket, all of Heath's anti-technology morals had apparently gone out of the window. He watched her expose Maia with fascination, and finally gathered the courage to rest his hand on the small of her back, just so that everyone could see that he'd come with her. This was met with a roll of the eyes on Tori's part, who turned her attention to Xavier and settled her lips into a pout. "This dance is so boring, right? Nobody around here is any fun." She paused, and then smiled sweetly. "Except you, obviously."
Cricket's eyes barely left her phone when Heath put his hand on her. Still, she settled in against him. What was the point in a date if he didn't share his body heat? "So, Heath, how often does she do that?" Xavier looked positively thrilled to be at the dance. If thrilled meant the exact opposite of what it actually meant. He looked down, far, to Tori. "Sweets, the whole school is boring."
“Almost daily. There’s a little group of them that hang out together, and the day doesn’t really start until one of them’s been dramatic. Maia’s probably the most entertaining though, because she does stuff like that.” Heath rambled, clearly pleased to both impart his knowledge and press himself up against the Cricket Vega. “Kind of annoying sometimes, but there’s always a story ready to be written.” “I’ll make it more exciting. I’m a lot of fun,” Tori wasn’t even bothering to be subtle. With Cricket distracted and unable to both advise her and chastise her, she was left to her own devices, and to a particularly attractive teenage boy. “Much better than the others I’ve seen around here. Right?”
"Oh, that's exciting. I can't believe you're going to let me beat you to stories like this. You really should get a blog." Her smile was cunning, revealing her snake like tendencies. "You know, we would make a stellar team." A business proposition at a high school dance. Her father would be proud. The light bounced off her dress as she turned to face him, leaving her sister entirely on her own. "We could discuss over a dance?" Xavier shrugged. "Sure, you seem to be." He was disinterested in the dance, but he was interested in her. He took a look around the room. He watched Maia leave. He wanted to follow her and finish what was started but he shook his head and looked down at the tiny girl again. "Would you like to dance?"
"I'd be happy to discuss anything with you," Heath simpered, leading her out onto the floor. "I'd love to!" Tori exclaimed, as she and Xavier followed her sister and her date into the fray.[/div][/div][/div]
location ; dance | tags ;
clxssified
[/div][/div][/div][div class=scroll1][div class=scroll2][div class=scroll3]The Vega sisters had obviously secured excellent dates. Though, Cricket was a little bit suspicious of Tori's. No one's record was that clean. She did appreciate the attitude he had when he told off one the school's big three. It was impressive. She watched the girl's interactions with multiple people, even recording her spilling a drink on someone. After the video was filmed she immediately posted it. maia: vemrose royalty or vemrose nutcase? She smirked as she watched people check their phones.Since meeting Cricket, all of Heath's anti-technology morals had apparently gone out of the window. He watched her expose Maia with fascination, and finally gathered the courage to rest his hand on the small of her back, just so that everyone could see that he'd come with her. This was met with a roll of the eyes on Tori's part, who turned her attention to Xavier and settled her lips into a pout. "This dance is so boring, right? Nobody around here is any fun." She paused, and then smiled sweetly. "Except you, obviously."
Cricket's eyes barely left her phone when Heath put his hand on her. Still, she settled in against him. What was the point in a date if he didn't share his body heat? "So, Heath, how often does she do that?" Xavier looked positively thrilled to be at the dance. If thrilled meant the exact opposite of what it actually meant. He looked down, far, to Tori. "Sweets, the whole school is boring."
“Almost daily. There’s a little group of them that hang out together, and the day doesn’t really start until one of them’s been dramatic. Maia’s probably the most entertaining though, because she does stuff like that.” Heath rambled, clearly pleased to both impart his knowledge and press himself up against the Cricket Vega. “Kind of annoying sometimes, but there’s always a story ready to be written.” “I’ll make it more exciting. I’m a lot of fun,” Tori wasn’t even bothering to be subtle. With Cricket distracted and unable to both advise her and chastise her, she was left to her own devices, and to a particularly attractive teenage boy. “Much better than the others I’ve seen around here. Right?”
"Oh, that's exciting. I can't believe you're going to let me beat you to stories like this. You really should get a blog." Her smile was cunning, revealing her snake like tendencies. "You know, we would make a stellar team." A business proposition at a high school dance. Her father would be proud. The light bounced off her dress as she turned to face him, leaving her sister entirely on her own. "We could discuss over a dance?" Xavier shrugged. "Sure, you seem to be." He was disinterested in the dance, but he was interested in her. He took a look around the room. He watched Maia leave. He wanted to follow her and finish what was started but he shook his head and looked down at the tiny girl again. "Would you like to dance?"
"I'd be happy to discuss anything with you," Heath simpered, leading her out onto the floor. "I'd love to!" Tori exclaimed, as she and Xavier followed her sister and her date into the fray.[/div][/div][/div]
milk inc
[/div][/div]
eclipsa
faerie sightings
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[div class=main][div class=box][div class=leftbox][div class=pic1][/div][div class=pic2][/div][/div][div class=rightbox][div class=pic3][/div][div class=pic4][/div][/div][div class=top][div class=top2][div class=top3]OLIVE
location ; court yard then dance | tw; suicidal thoughts | tags ; n/a[/div][/div][/div][div class=scroll1][div class=scroll2][div class=scroll3]Olive sobbed as the van pulled up to the school. She was meant to be there the day before, but the emperor had to pull strings. Olive wished she hadn't. All she wanted was to die. Two days from the date she was meant to be executed and she was sitting at a fucking school for rich people. Lilith please save me.
She was ushered into the school to what appeared to be a dance. She stared at the people in the room, her makeup streaking down her face. What was the point in being here? What was the point in any of it? She wanted to go home. Not to the loving arms of her parents but into the arms of Lilith.
now now now now now now now
She took a cup of punch and noticed a boy staring at her. "You're Olive Duffy, right?"
"Who wants to know?"
"Listen. I'm a big fan, they had it coming."
A small smile formed on her mouth. "You one of them? Or are you more like me?"
"Actually I got busted breaking into Elon Musk's house with my sister."[/div][/div][/div]
location ; court yard then dance | tw; suicidal thoughts | tags ; n/a[/div][/div][/div][div class=scroll1][div class=scroll2][div class=scroll3]Olive sobbed as the van pulled up to the school. She was meant to be there the day before, but the emperor had to pull strings. Olive wished she hadn't. All she wanted was to die. Two days from the date she was meant to be executed and she was sitting at a fucking school for rich people. Lilith please save me.
She was ushered into the school to what appeared to be a dance. She stared at the people in the room, her makeup streaking down her face. What was the point in being here? What was the point in any of it? She wanted to go home. Not to the loving arms of her parents but into the arms of Lilith.
now now now now now now now
She took a cup of punch and noticed a boy staring at her. "You're Olive Duffy, right?"
"Who wants to know?"
"Listen. I'm a big fan, they had it coming."
A small smile formed on her mouth. "You one of them? Or are you more like me?"
"Actually I got busted breaking into Elon Musk's house with my sister."[/div][/div][/div]
milk inc
[/div][/div]
eclipsa
faerie sightings
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[div class=main][div class=box][div class=leftbox][div class=pic1][/div][div class=pic2][/div][/div][div class=rightbox][div class=pic3][/div][div class=pic4][/div][/div][div class=top][div class=top2][div class=top3]CASSIAN & AARON & NIXON & HARLEY & SAIVOUR
location ; hall then dance | tags ; n/a[/div][/div][/div][div class=scroll1][div class=scroll2][div class=scroll3]They hadn't even made it to homecoming yet and Cassian was already losing his mind. They still had one more new kid to pick up before they were a complete group. He looked over to see Nixon looking grumpy. "Little sister, you look fine."
"I know that." She threw her hands up exasperated. "I could only hide three vials of poison and two knives under this dress!"
"You have what under your dress?"
Aaron stopped fiddling with his absolutely treacherous tie- Which, to clarify, was not making him angry because he didn't know how to tie one, that would be ridiculous- long enough to give Nixon an appraising look. "Where did you put them? I can't even tell..."Aaron stopped fiddling with his absolutely treacherous tie- Which, to clarify, was not making him angry because he didn't know how to tie one, that would be ridiculous- long enough to give Nixon an appraising look. "Where did you put them? I can't even tell..."
Cassian rubbed his temples and then quickly took over tying Aaron's tie. "Honestly Nixon, what the hell?"
Aaron rolled his eyes as Cassian fixed his tie. "I had that handled," he muttered, though he made no effort to stop him.
The princess shrugged, "I can't tell you where they are, it'll give it away for when I need to use them." She shot her brother a look. "You never know when you might need a weapon. I don't trust anyone in this school but the two of you."
"Nixon, I swear to the creator, you're going to be the death of me." Finished with Aaron's tie he ushered the two of them along to finally reach Harley's door. How he got roped into dealing with three new kids he didn't really understand, but he wouldn't complain. Out loud.
He gave Nixon an approving look as she denied the information. "I suppose that's fair enough." He hadn't even thought to take a knife to the dance. Maybe he should have. He was feeling pretty bare now. They were in front of a door now, and it was a bit late for regrets, so Aaron just let his hands rest by his sides, relaxed and welcoming as the door opened.
When she opened the door, Harley was visibly nervous, which was unusual given her murderer’s status. She tugged awkwardly at the hem of her dress and did her best to offer a smile.
“Hi. I don’t think I’ve even met you all yet. I’m Harley.”
Her eyes lingered on Nixon and her face betrayed a sense of panic.
The girl behind it was... unimpressive. Mousy, maybe? Aaron didn't particularly care about finding the right word right now- He really didn't. He just didn't like her. A hint of a frown crossed Aaron's face, and he turned to Cassian, asking at the same time Nixon offered some kind of attempt at friendliness, "Is it really that big of a deal? It's a dance."
"I'm Cassian, that's my sister Nixon, and that's Aaron. We are all very late." He probably should have been nicer. He knew that.
Nixon noticed the look of panic and checked to make sure her weapons weren't showing. "You look nice," she said to make up for her brother's harshness. "You nervous about the royals? Me too they're all insane."
"It's nice to meet you," Harley did her best to smile. She blinked in surprise at Nixon's compliment. "Oh! Thankyou. So do you." A pause, and then: "All of you. Of course." She tugged at her dress again. "I quite like dances. We had them a lot at my old school. They were a lot of fun."
"This is my first, I think." Nixon smiled at the girl, she was an enigma and the princess loved mysteries. As Cassian rushed them down the hall the blonde stayed by the other girl's side. "So, Harley, what're you in for?" It probably wasn't the most courteous of ways to ask, but she was deadly curious. "Can't be worse than me."
"I'm in for murder," Harley replied simply, getting straight to the point. There was no way to dress up such a statement, but as they walked, she tried anyway. When she spoke again, there was a trace of something unreadable in her kohl-rimmed eyes. "The trial was a bit of a shamble, if I'm honest. They wouldn't listen to my testimony and my lawyer wouldn't pursue my insanity or my self defence angle. So they just convicted me. Just like that." She looked straight ahead again. "I'm sure you can find it online or in the papers. At least, where I come from. Everyone was obsessed with it."
Nixon quirked a brow, then looked around before leaning over and whispering, "I was an assassin."
In front of her, her brother was talking to Aaron, quietly. "I need your help to keep an eye on Nixon tonight. I don't trust her not to get into trouble."
Aaron hummed, long and maybe just a bit dismissive. He stuck close to Cassian as the pair headed down the hall, the girls trailing behind, and he couldn’t help a scoff at Cassian’s request, though he kept it quiet. “How much trouble could she possibly get into?” Before Cass could answer, Aaron continued, almost amused. “I might join her in whatever mayhem she wishes to execute just to spite you.” They rounded a corner.
A very distressed blonde was around that corner and Cassian grinned, "Saviour. You really live up to your name. I've got three new kids, you want to help me keep up with them?" His eyes fell on the untied tie around his neck and he laughed. "Am I the only person in this school who can tie a tie?"
The Macchia boy sighed, "I can catch two knives at a time but I can't tie a tie. It's infuriating." His demeanor was much softer than one would expect. A gentle giant, some called him. "I'll help you if you help me."
Nixon watched the two interact with a smile, it was nice to see her brother with a friend. After the tie was tied he joined their group. Quite the assortment, really.
Aaron grew quiet, simply watching the group interact. A finger tapped against his thigh, and he wished he had pockets as they continued walking, Aaron very much not curious about this newcomer.
So what if Cassian had tied his tie, or if they seemed to be friendly? It didn’t matter, and Aaron certainly didn’t care. He didn’t drift away from Cassian’s side, though.
Saviour quickly introduced himself to the group and smiled at the girls, "you both look lovely. I hope Cass hasn't been too much for you." They arrived at the dance.
"Watch it, bud, the blonde's my sister."[/div][/div][/div]
location ; hall then dance | tags ; n/a[/div][/div][/div][div class=scroll1][div class=scroll2][div class=scroll3]They hadn't even made it to homecoming yet and Cassian was already losing his mind. They still had one more new kid to pick up before they were a complete group. He looked over to see Nixon looking grumpy. "Little sister, you look fine."
"I know that." She threw her hands up exasperated. "I could only hide three vials of poison and two knives under this dress!"
"You have what under your dress?"
Aaron stopped fiddling with his absolutely treacherous tie- Which, to clarify, was not making him angry because he didn't know how to tie one, that would be ridiculous- long enough to give Nixon an appraising look. "Where did you put them? I can't even tell..."Aaron stopped fiddling with his absolutely treacherous tie- Which, to clarify, was not making him angry because he didn't know how to tie one, that would be ridiculous- long enough to give Nixon an appraising look. "Where did you put them? I can't even tell..."
Cassian rubbed his temples and then quickly took over tying Aaron's tie. "Honestly Nixon, what the hell?"
Aaron rolled his eyes as Cassian fixed his tie. "I had that handled," he muttered, though he made no effort to stop him.
The princess shrugged, "I can't tell you where they are, it'll give it away for when I need to use them." She shot her brother a look. "You never know when you might need a weapon. I don't trust anyone in this school but the two of you."
"Nixon, I swear to the creator, you're going to be the death of me." Finished with Aaron's tie he ushered the two of them along to finally reach Harley's door. How he got roped into dealing with three new kids he didn't really understand, but he wouldn't complain. Out loud.
He gave Nixon an approving look as she denied the information. "I suppose that's fair enough." He hadn't even thought to take a knife to the dance. Maybe he should have. He was feeling pretty bare now. They were in front of a door now, and it was a bit late for regrets, so Aaron just let his hands rest by his sides, relaxed and welcoming as the door opened.
When she opened the door, Harley was visibly nervous, which was unusual given her murderer’s status. She tugged awkwardly at the hem of her dress and did her best to offer a smile.
“Hi. I don’t think I’ve even met you all yet. I’m Harley.”
Her eyes lingered on Nixon and her face betrayed a sense of panic.
The girl behind it was... unimpressive. Mousy, maybe? Aaron didn't particularly care about finding the right word right now- He really didn't. He just didn't like her. A hint of a frown crossed Aaron's face, and he turned to Cassian, asking at the same time Nixon offered some kind of attempt at friendliness, "Is it really that big of a deal? It's a dance."
"I'm Cassian, that's my sister Nixon, and that's Aaron. We are all very late." He probably should have been nicer. He knew that.
Nixon noticed the look of panic and checked to make sure her weapons weren't showing. "You look nice," she said to make up for her brother's harshness. "You nervous about the royals? Me too they're all insane."
"It's nice to meet you," Harley did her best to smile. She blinked in surprise at Nixon's compliment. "Oh! Thankyou. So do you." A pause, and then: "All of you. Of course." She tugged at her dress again. "I quite like dances. We had them a lot at my old school. They were a lot of fun."
"This is my first, I think." Nixon smiled at the girl, she was an enigma and the princess loved mysteries. As Cassian rushed them down the hall the blonde stayed by the other girl's side. "So, Harley, what're you in for?" It probably wasn't the most courteous of ways to ask, but she was deadly curious. "Can't be worse than me."
"I'm in for murder," Harley replied simply, getting straight to the point. There was no way to dress up such a statement, but as they walked, she tried anyway. When she spoke again, there was a trace of something unreadable in her kohl-rimmed eyes. "The trial was a bit of a shamble, if I'm honest. They wouldn't listen to my testimony and my lawyer wouldn't pursue my insanity or my self defence angle. So they just convicted me. Just like that." She looked straight ahead again. "I'm sure you can find it online or in the papers. At least, where I come from. Everyone was obsessed with it."
Nixon quirked a brow, then looked around before leaning over and whispering, "I was an assassin."
In front of her, her brother was talking to Aaron, quietly. "I need your help to keep an eye on Nixon tonight. I don't trust her not to get into trouble."
Aaron hummed, long and maybe just a bit dismissive. He stuck close to Cassian as the pair headed down the hall, the girls trailing behind, and he couldn’t help a scoff at Cassian’s request, though he kept it quiet. “How much trouble could she possibly get into?” Before Cass could answer, Aaron continued, almost amused. “I might join her in whatever mayhem she wishes to execute just to spite you.” They rounded a corner.
A very distressed blonde was around that corner and Cassian grinned, "Saviour. You really live up to your name. I've got three new kids, you want to help me keep up with them?" His eyes fell on the untied tie around his neck and he laughed. "Am I the only person in this school who can tie a tie?"
The Macchia boy sighed, "I can catch two knives at a time but I can't tie a tie. It's infuriating." His demeanor was much softer than one would expect. A gentle giant, some called him. "I'll help you if you help me."
Nixon watched the two interact with a smile, it was nice to see her brother with a friend. After the tie was tied he joined their group. Quite the assortment, really.
Aaron grew quiet, simply watching the group interact. A finger tapped against his thigh, and he wished he had pockets as they continued walking, Aaron very much not curious about this newcomer.
So what if Cassian had tied his tie, or if they seemed to be friendly? It didn’t matter, and Aaron certainly didn’t care. He didn’t drift away from Cassian’s side, though.
Saviour quickly introduced himself to the group and smiled at the girls, "you both look lovely. I hope Cass hasn't been too much for you." They arrived at the dance.
"Watch it, bud, the blonde's my sister."[/div][/div][/div]
milk inc
[/div][/div]
teenage witch
bitch
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[div class=name]3AM.[/div]
[div class=leftTagContainer]
[div class=scroll]
[div class=tag]location[/div] bedroom.
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] maia, soren.
[div class=tag]creds[/div] milk.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] general trauma, threat. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] A tired, bloodied hand hovered over the doorknob for a moment. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her whole body, even after everything the night had thrown at her. A spider watched her from the ceiling and Maia swallowed her doubt and opened the door. Anything to get away from it.
She wished she had turned around and gone anywhere else. There in her room he stood. Her eyes widened. "What are you doing here? Where have you been?" The shaking in her hands was back, she wanted to cut them off. It was a sign of weakness. She couldn't be weak. Not now. Not anymore.
Memories were muddled but she knew she should be afraid. Yet she longed for his touch, suddenly.
He turned to face her. The dim light of the room cast a strange shadow across his face. Since she’d last seen him, he’d changed: his eyes were sunken, his cheeks were hollow, his body was a mess of sharp angles. But he was unmistakable.
Soren stepped forward, his face a mask of confusion and longing.
Then he leapt back. Between them on the floor were a set of handcuffs.
“I’ll explain. Baby, listen to me. I need you to cuff me, first.”
Maia reached her hand out instinctively, but stopped herself at his words. The way he called her baby still made her stomach turn. She couldn't decide if it was in a good way or a bad way.
"Why would I cuff you?"
She remembered his hands around her throat. Waking up to him being gone. Her eyes focused on the cuffs for a moment. She didn't feel like herself. Then, when had she? Did she even know who she was anymore? She reached for the cuffs slowly, hooking them on his wrists carefully. "Okay, there."
When he was secure he slumped onto the ground, back against the bed, head down with his hair hanging like a veil around his face. His breathing was laboured. He stayed that way for what felt like hours.
And then he began to laugh. It was a jarring, unnerving sound, starting soft and growing into a hyena’s cackle. Soren threw his head back and locked eyes with her.
“Let me out, Little Red,” a voice that was not his own cooed, “Maia, let me go. Let me go so I can finish what I started, finish you off, find Noble Macchia, find—”
A sharp intake of breath tore through him and he shuddered. His expression changed.
“Baby, listen to me. They tried to kill me. This is going to be hard to hear but you have to trust me. I’m trying so hard to — bitch — talk to you normally, it’s me, baby, it’s me, I need to talk to you, just trust me.”
Spiders were everywhere then. She watched them as they seemed to watch Soren. She didn't know if they were real or a manifestation of her psyche melting down. She pressed her back to the wall, watching his every move.
"They?"
“The government,” he gasped. “You don’t remember but I do, Alo he— he — I’ll fucking kill him, treacherous bastard, skin him alive, I’ll — told me everything, I remember. They took us and they made us like this.”
He looked up at her. Paused.
“Where are they? Lovett, Holly, Alex, Kaj?” Then, quieter. “Freya?”
Alex? Kaj? Freya?
"Holly and Lovett are here. Who are the others? What are you talking about?" For someone who had never been afraid of anything — but spiders — she was suddenly terrified. Her hands weren't the only shaking body part.
It was as if her mind was short circuiting. Flashes were coming through but not enough to count for anything. "What... what did they make us?"
His face fell. She didn’t remember.
How could he expect her to?
“Spiders for you. Me, I... Well, you know. Lovett, they went too far. Holly, Alo didn’t know.”
Soren gasped again. His whole body trembled, with pain or exertion or something else.
“The new students. They’re going to — where is she, Maia? — do the same thing to them, we think. I came to warn you, I can’t stay, they’re going to kill me baby, they’re going to — die, they’re all going to die, I’ll kill them all — kill me because they went too far, baby believe me I’m trying to help but you can’t trust me, I’m not safe.”
Spiders?
Maia closed the distance between him and crouched in front of him. "Nothing you're saying makes sense." Her hands cradled his face, brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones. "I don't want you to go, please. Nothing makes sense. You have to help me make it make sense."
Her eyes were watering. Her head was on fire. It felt like her entire body was melting. Everything was wrong. "Please. I don't understand."
He melted into her touch, and then tensed. His lips drew back tightly, exposing his teeth in a wolfish snarl.
“Get your fucking hands off me. You know what I do to bitches who get too brave? Do you know what I’ll—“ Soren stopped, blinked, leaned back into her hands. His eyes were wet but he refused to acknowledge that. He couldn’t overcome this.
Whatever it was.
“It will make sense soon. Just... don’t trust anyone. The Boltons, the President, the fucking royals...”
They locked eyes.
“And me. Not me, either, Maia, promise me. I don’t want to.. If I hurt you, I...”
"You already hurt me Soren. You nearly killed me." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Whoever did this to you, I'll make them regret it." She kissed his forehead gently, knowing it was the last time she ever would.
"Go, I'll be okay. I'm a big girl, you know I can take care of myself." She kissed him on the mouth this time, carefully before pulling away and standing up.
Biting her lip she took a deep breath, "goodbye, Soren."
The drawling, hissing voice in the back of Soren’s head roared.
Fuck her, kill her, tear her apart, break her, cho—
But Soren’s own voice, for once, was louder.
“Goodbye. I love you.”
He watched her walk away.
Maia shut her door behind her and bit her hand to keep from screaming. The flesh was still red from blood and now wet with her tears. She took a shaky breath and pushed off the door. She didn't know where to go. She couldn't go to Holly, not with this. No one would understand. Then, neither did she.
A couple of minutes passed and she found herself at a door. She knew it all too well. Her fingers ran up and down the wood, contemplating if she wanted to turn the knob. To go to him. It was almost guaranteed she would find him with another girl. The thought made her sick at her stomach, but she had no right to be. Not after disappearing like she did.
She knocked lightly. There wasn't an answer. Quietly she pushed the door open, looking in as she did. He wasn't in his bed. Figures.
She stepped in, and nearly tripped over his unconscious body. She knelt beside him and checked his pulse. "You drank the damn punch, didn't you?" Rubbing her temples she stood up, after rolling him over. Once he was on his back she crouched down and lifted him towards her, hooking her arms under his and standing. She was strong, but even still his deadweight made it difficult to get him to the bed.
"Idiot." She undressed him from the waist up and then pushed him further onto the bed. The girl started towards the door but paused before her hand could take hold of the knob. She looked back at him and turned around. She grabbed one of his shirts from the closet and changed into it, then sat on the bed beside him. The headboard was cold against her back, but it made the burning ease.
Gently she placed his head in her lap and ran her fingers through his hair. "You'll be okay, Tobias. But the hangover is going to suck." She smiled down at him, tears falling from her eyes.
And there she stayed until her sobs put her to sleep.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] maia, soren.
[div class=tag]creds[/div] milk.
[div class=tag]tw[/div] general trauma, threat. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] A tired, bloodied hand hovered over the doorknob for a moment. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her whole body, even after everything the night had thrown at her. A spider watched her from the ceiling and Maia swallowed her doubt and opened the door. Anything to get away from it.
She wished she had turned around and gone anywhere else. There in her room he stood. Her eyes widened. "What are you doing here? Where have you been?" The shaking in her hands was back, she wanted to cut them off. It was a sign of weakness. She couldn't be weak. Not now. Not anymore.
Memories were muddled but she knew she should be afraid. Yet she longed for his touch, suddenly.
He turned to face her. The dim light of the room cast a strange shadow across his face. Since she’d last seen him, he’d changed: his eyes were sunken, his cheeks were hollow, his body was a mess of sharp angles. But he was unmistakable.
Soren stepped forward, his face a mask of confusion and longing.
Then he leapt back. Between them on the floor were a set of handcuffs.
“I’ll explain. Baby, listen to me. I need you to cuff me, first.”
Maia reached her hand out instinctively, but stopped herself at his words. The way he called her baby still made her stomach turn. She couldn't decide if it was in a good way or a bad way.
"Why would I cuff you?"
She remembered his hands around her throat. Waking up to him being gone. Her eyes focused on the cuffs for a moment. She didn't feel like herself. Then, when had she? Did she even know who she was anymore? She reached for the cuffs slowly, hooking them on his wrists carefully. "Okay, there."
When he was secure he slumped onto the ground, back against the bed, head down with his hair hanging like a veil around his face. His breathing was laboured. He stayed that way for what felt like hours.
And then he began to laugh. It was a jarring, unnerving sound, starting soft and growing into a hyena’s cackle. Soren threw his head back and locked eyes with her.
“Let me out, Little Red,” a voice that was not his own cooed, “Maia, let me go. Let me go so I can finish what I started, finish you off, find Noble Macchia, find—”
A sharp intake of breath tore through him and he shuddered. His expression changed.
“Baby, listen to me. They tried to kill me. This is going to be hard to hear but you have to trust me. I’m trying so hard to — bitch — talk to you normally, it’s me, baby, it’s me, I need to talk to you, just trust me.”
Spiders were everywhere then. She watched them as they seemed to watch Soren. She didn't know if they were real or a manifestation of her psyche melting down. She pressed her back to the wall, watching his every move.
"They?"
“The government,” he gasped. “You don’t remember but I do, Alo he— he — I’ll fucking kill him, treacherous bastard, skin him alive, I’ll — told me everything, I remember. They took us and they made us like this.”
He looked up at her. Paused.
“Where are they? Lovett, Holly, Alex, Kaj?” Then, quieter. “Freya?”
Alex? Kaj? Freya?
"Holly and Lovett are here. Who are the others? What are you talking about?" For someone who had never been afraid of anything — but spiders — she was suddenly terrified. Her hands weren't the only shaking body part.
It was as if her mind was short circuiting. Flashes were coming through but not enough to count for anything. "What... what did they make us?"
His face fell. She didn’t remember.
How could he expect her to?
“Spiders for you. Me, I... Well, you know. Lovett, they went too far. Holly, Alo didn’t know.”
Soren gasped again. His whole body trembled, with pain or exertion or something else.
“The new students. They’re going to — where is she, Maia? — do the same thing to them, we think. I came to warn you, I can’t stay, they’re going to kill me baby, they’re going to — die, they’re all going to die, I’ll kill them all — kill me because they went too far, baby believe me I’m trying to help but you can’t trust me, I’m not safe.”
Spiders?
Maia closed the distance between him and crouched in front of him. "Nothing you're saying makes sense." Her hands cradled his face, brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones. "I don't want you to go, please. Nothing makes sense. You have to help me make it make sense."
Her eyes were watering. Her head was on fire. It felt like her entire body was melting. Everything was wrong. "Please. I don't understand."
He melted into her touch, and then tensed. His lips drew back tightly, exposing his teeth in a wolfish snarl.
“Get your fucking hands off me. You know what I do to bitches who get too brave? Do you know what I’ll—“ Soren stopped, blinked, leaned back into her hands. His eyes were wet but he refused to acknowledge that. He couldn’t overcome this.
Whatever it was.
“It will make sense soon. Just... don’t trust anyone. The Boltons, the President, the fucking royals...”
They locked eyes.
“And me. Not me, either, Maia, promise me. I don’t want to.. If I hurt you, I...”
"You already hurt me Soren. You nearly killed me." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Whoever did this to you, I'll make them regret it." She kissed his forehead gently, knowing it was the last time she ever would.
"Go, I'll be okay. I'm a big girl, you know I can take care of myself." She kissed him on the mouth this time, carefully before pulling away and standing up.
Biting her lip she took a deep breath, "goodbye, Soren."
The drawling, hissing voice in the back of Soren’s head roared.
Fuck her, kill her, tear her apart, break her, cho—
But Soren’s own voice, for once, was louder.
“Goodbye. I love you.”
He watched her walk away.
Maia shut her door behind her and bit her hand to keep from screaming. The flesh was still red from blood and now wet with her tears. She took a shaky breath and pushed off the door. She didn't know where to go. She couldn't go to Holly, not with this. No one would understand. Then, neither did she.
A couple of minutes passed and she found herself at a door. She knew it all too well. Her fingers ran up and down the wood, contemplating if she wanted to turn the knob. To go to him. It was almost guaranteed she would find him with another girl. The thought made her sick at her stomach, but she had no right to be. Not after disappearing like she did.
She knocked lightly. There wasn't an answer. Quietly she pushed the door open, looking in as she did. He wasn't in his bed. Figures.
She stepped in, and nearly tripped over his unconscious body. She knelt beside him and checked his pulse. "You drank the damn punch, didn't you?" Rubbing her temples she stood up, after rolling him over. Once he was on his back she crouched down and lifted him towards her, hooking her arms under his and standing. She was strong, but even still his deadweight made it difficult to get him to the bed.
"Idiot." She undressed him from the waist up and then pushed him further onto the bed. The girl started towards the door but paused before her hand could take hold of the knob. She looked back at him and turned around. She grabbed one of his shirts from the closet and changed into it, then sat on the bed beside him. The headboard was cold against her back, but it made the burning ease.
Gently she placed his head in her lap and ran her fingers through his hair. "You'll be okay, Tobias. But the hangover is going to suck." She smiled down at him, tears falling from her eyes.
And there she stayed until her sobs put her to sleep.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
teenage witch
bitch
EPISODE TWO: THE MORNING
AIMS: ESTABLISH THREAT
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[/div]
[div class=name]HOLLY.[/div]
[div class=leftTagContainer]
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[div class=tag]location[/div] bedroom.
AIMS: ESTABLISH THREAT
[div class=tag]interacts[/div] daniel, keaton.
[div class=tag]tags[/div]
caramel
.
[div class=tag]outfit[/div] n/a. [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] The light of the dawn filtered lazily through the windows and Holly's eyes fluttered open.
Immediately, she became aware of a warmth behind her, and the weight of arms wrapped firmly around her waist. Silently, she prayed-- please be Keaton.
As usual, it wasn't.
She stirred and he stirred with her, and when she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes met Daniel's. He smiled and she smiled back, ignoring the knot of shame that was quickly beginning to form at the pit of her stomach.
"You were amazing last night."
"Oh, please don't say that, I don't want to talk about what we--"
"I meant at Homecoming. You looked beautiful. Truly deserving of your crown."
Holly smiled again, weaker this time. She did deserve that stupid plastic crown: the Heavens knew she'd done enough to earn it.
When he loosened his grip, Holly slipped out of it and rose from the bed. She found her uniform, neatly pressed and folded, on a mahogany desk near the window. As she dressed, doing her best to dissociate from the situation, Daniel continued to talk.
“I imagine everything went smoothly after everyone drank the punch. I didn't hear anything go bump in the night.” He paused, that sickening grin on his face as he watched her-- her back was turned, but she could see his reflection in the mirror. "Aside from us, that is."
Before he could say anything to bring the bile further up her throat, Holly whirled around. "I should get going. Everybody will be getting up for breakfast soon, and if I'm not there, they'll miss me."
He nodded and waved her off lazily, but just as she began to head for the door, he cleared his throat. "You're really going to leave me without saying goodbye?"
Her jaw tightened. But her resentment didn't stop her from turning back to walk towards the bed, lean down, and plant a gentle kiss on her lover's lips.
Holly hated him, so much.
And she loved him more than she loved herself.
Like it was programmed into her brain.
The feeling of suffocation didn't leave her even as she entered the hallway. Rather than head straight to breakfast as she'd claimed she was going to, Holly allowed her body to settle into auto-pilot, and take her somewhere that she might feel safe. Or failing that, somewhere she could pinch a damn cigarette.
She knocked on Keaton's door only as a courtesy, to wake him if he wasn't already awake, before sliding in unnoticed by anyone who might happen to be passing. Without stopping for a greeting, she sauntered over to the bed and perched on the end, staring off into space for a good few moments, fingers idly finishing buttoning her clean white blouse.
"I barely saw you last night. Didn't you fancy a dance with royalty?"
He'd appreciate the satire, he always did. He understood her. He never judged her.
That was why she loved him.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
[/QUOTE]
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