Realistic or Modern Mad House 2.0

[spectro]

Please leave this section until the role play begins.



​

In Character Rules





1. While we do not want the entire role play to be reduced to nothing but one-liners, posts may have to get short from time to time. As a guideline, when there is action and things to describe, your post should be at least two paragraphs, but more is encouraged. When there is a conversation going on and nothing else, your post is allowed to be more along the lines of two or three lines. In short, go crazy with description when there are things to describe, but if there isn't, don't feel obligated to force out a long post and consequently hold back the role play. With that being said, please be coherent in the English language, both grammatically and spelling-wise, and when it comes to a pivotal point in the role play, don't be the one who makes a climax anti-climatic.


2. Do not god mode, power play or anything like that. Remember, there's a difference between being creative and obnoxious. When a character dies or is injured, it is up to the person who role plays them. Please just use common sense in this regards.


3. Stay within RpN's rules. Embellish in gore and profanity at your own discretion, but know how much is too much. Romance is allowed, but be sure to fade-to-black before something becomes too intimate.


4. For consistency, stick to third person limited past tense when role playing.


5. The role play will be set in semi-liquid time. What this means is that there will be a central time that the role play will be following, but you don't have to wait for other people to wrap up scenes that are irrelevant to you. Once you've finished an interaction, then you're free to jump back in at the same time as everyone else.

 

[Pine]

@xSparrow


Hello, welcome to Whitaker House! I'm Pamella. If you would just step inside, Remy can help you with your room... and... ugh.


Pamella set her hip and shoulder against the wooden railing that framed the porch of the orphanage. Her arms were folded across her chest, and with her head cocked to the side, the dark curls fell around her shoulder, allowing her to dig her fingers aimlessly through her thick hair. She had already greeted at least two of the kids that were supposed to be arriving today, and even now the speech that she had spent all night preparing was faltering on her lips. She had managed to fumble out something along the lines of that, but she was certain that there was something she had forgotten with them. No, probably a hell of a lot more than just 'something'.


She shut her eyes and shook her head in exasperation, though this did little in the way of comforting her. Instead, she began to doubt her original speech, whatever that had been. Shouldn't I be on a last name basis with these kids? Will they respect me if I'm just called Pamella? But then... what if they think we're married? Pamella's expression deepened, and a quiet, gagging sound sputtered out of her mouth. Pamella is fine. I can afford losing a little bit of respect over that.


She took in a shallow breath, taking in the crisp scent of fresh cut grass with the faintest hint of dust from the motor that had run it all down, before releasing it all through a long sigh out of her nose that made her chest fall back. Pamella ceased threading her fingers through her hair, instead letting her hands fold against her floral-patterned cotton shirt, fingers locking between each other. She vaguely wondered if Remy was messing everything up inside, but just as quickly dismissed the thought. Going over the instructions 101 times had to have gotten through even his thick skull.


In any case, the weather outside was calming, and well representative of the end of spring and the start of summer. There was enough cloud cover to keep it from being blinding outside, and with the occasional brush of wind passing by and rippling over her clothing, the sun's rays were left feeling pleasantly warm against her skin. Needless to say, she wasn't in any hurry to get back inside. So she stood there, brows furrowed in concentration as she reviewed and revised her lines, awaiting the arrival of the rest of the kids.


- - - - -


"Yes... alright... okay, I understand. One sec." A pen scraped against a paper in a vicious pattern, managing only to indent the corner until several strokes later when it finally left a saturated blue line trailing in its wake. "Okay." A few moments passed, where neat lettering was jotted down between the narrow college-ruled lines of a notebook paper.


Fri: 8-10 AM


Sat: 1-4 PM


Sun: 9-11 AM


"Got it. Thank... yes... alright, thank you very much, sir... Yes, you too." Nick cleared his throat sharply before lifting his ear from his phone, which had been resting precariously on top of his shoulder, forcing him to regularly adjust this with his cheek. Now with the call over, he raised his shoulder to let the tiny device slip into his waiting and open palm, before snapping the top screen shut with a flick of his wrist and shoving it in his khaki shorts' pocket, only with moderate difficulty from his seated position. In his other hand, he took the pen cap between his teeth and flipped the slim writing utensil around to insert back into the cap before allowing the pen to clatter onto the table.


He leaned back in the seat, stretching his legs up against the wall and raised his hands over his head, a satisfying series of pops running up his spine as he bent against the back of the chair, interlocked fingers cracking, too, from the action. Finally, he sank back with a huff. He stared at the paper for a moment before flipping it over. He plucked the pen from between his two fingers and pushed against the wall with his worn sneakers to scoot his chair out, though was met with some resistance from the rug that was beneath it, curling for a moment at the edge before flattening out again.


The room was certainly accommodating, if a bit cramped with plentiful space to store things. Not that anyone here owns that much. It was obviously designed for two people, but with this orphanage just opening and having plenty of rooms, he guessed that he would be okay to have a room to himself for the first time in forever. This entire house had somewhat of a contemporary feel to it that vaguely reminded him of one of his last orphanages, rather contrary to it being seemingly out in the middle of the woods.


For the time being, he had simply left his suitcase sitting up against the edge of his bed and with his backpack beside it. He crouched before them now, unzipping the front pocket minimally to slot the pen in before standing again. Nick grasped the metal frame of the sunglasses that had been resting on top of his head and removed them, if only to tuck it back behind his ears, pushing them over the flip of his hair in readjustment as he paced in a slow circle.


It was the faint discomfort of hunger that finally brought his fidgeting to an end, no longer twirling the loose watch around his wrist or tugging at the hem of his plain brown t-shirt. He took in a shaky breath to steady his nerves, craning his neck forward just enough to press against his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Just have to try harder this time. With that, he managed to dismiss the troublesome thoughts that had been plaguing his mind from the moment his last guardians finally gave up. Nick dropped his hand back down to his side, face impassive, and stepped outside the room and headed down toward the kitchen, not bothering to shut the door behind him.

 

[Rise]

Ryder looked up at the orphanage after being dropped off by some social worker. Whitaker House, huh? Not too bad for a place out in the middle of nowhere. He thought as he looked around. Being used to living in big cities, both foster homes and abandoned buildings, this was quite new for him.


After hitching up his backpack, he picked up the suitcase that was provided for him that carried some clothes and other things that were also provided for him since he was basically homeless. When he was on his own, the only things he had were the clothes on his back, a backpack that carried some extra clothes and other necessities, and a prepaid phone that he got once he saved some money up to get one. He did have a better phone before he ran away, but he didn't want to be traced down. He craved freedom and that was the last thing he had at his last home.


He walked up to the porch of the orphanage and was greeted by a woman, who must have ran this place. As soon Ryder laid eyes on her, the first thing that popped into his mind was hippy with her long hair and floral pattern clothes. He had to suppress an amused smirk from running across his lips as he noticed that her speech was faltering. To him, she seemed nervous, and he wondered how easy it would be to get on her good side.


Ryder then entered the orphanage after Pamella said that Remy would help him with his room, and he gave her a smile as he told her his name. The orphanage held a contemporary feel, but it was nice. Maybe I could stick around for just a while... He thought as he eyed his surroundings, a mischievous glint shooting across them.

 

[spectro]

Jodie was exhausted after the long journey from Iowa all the way to Virginia. She hadn't bothered to unpack yet and had spent a good forty five minutes just laying on her bed with her hands flat out next to her. It was a wide bed, but still a single one nonetheless. Another bed, identical to the one she was sleeping on, was placed in the opposite corner of the room. It was quite a big room-compared to the others she had stayed in, in past orphanages, and she was grateful to not have a room mate-at least for the time being.





Finally, she pushed herself up and ruggedly swept her hair forward, returning it to it's mysterious but inviting shape. She pulled up her annoying skinny jeans once more and made a mental note that she had to buy a belt, before going over to her suitcase and unzipping the top. She pulled out the contents that had been neatly folded by her foster parents, who had obviously felt bad for abandoning her, and put a small pile of each item of her clothing onto the square, sectioned shelves.





After she had finished unpacking her many clothes, shoes and accessories, she scratched her head. Her suitcase was empty. She was sure that she had more belongings, a toy, an ornament, but no-the suitcase was empty. Jodie shook off the feeling that her life had been meaningless and then decided to dwell on it-maybe it would make her seem more emo?





When Jodie had spent at least ten minutes searching for a non existent souvenir of her life, she noticed that she hadn't eaten any breakfast and decided to make her way downstairs, to find the kitchen.


She had only caught a glimpse of the kitchen earlier. She had seen it was big and modern, but she hadn't remembered anyone being in it earlier. There was a guy standing in the kitchen. He seemed to be fiddling with something on the counter. Jodie hooked her right thumb into her belt loop and pouted sulkily, after all, first impressions were important and she had to seem edgy. As she got closer, she noticed that the guy was wearing khaki shorts-the khaki shorts that a certain annoying boy used to wear-no-he wouldn't be here, why would he be here?


But the clues were all adding up-the shorts, the hair. Acting on impulse, Jodie blurted out, "What in the hell are you doing here?" Her façade was broken already, her hair slightly dishevelled, her sulky face was now confused and maybe a teensy bit angry.

* * *



​

Remy stood with his back on the living wall, near the front door, with his arms folded. Pamella had told him to wait and greet the kids and show them to their rooms. Remy had no clue which room they had to go in, but he figured he could just put them in any of the rooms- there was plenty of them. His dreads dangled over his shoulders onto his loose, tie dye vest shirt, which was creased and a little dirty.


He looked so out of place, a man with dreadlocks, wearing loose clothing and smelling vaguely of marijuana in a house that was far too contemporary and modern for his liking. He knew he would mess things up here at some point, he always did, but he wanted to at least try to keep things sweet-at least for his sisters sake. He had promised her that everything would go right-and he had really believed it this time.


"Ah!" Remy spoke up as a boy entered the room, "I'm Remy, you can call me R though, if you want." He went in to hug the boy, patting him once on the back before pulling away. "So what's up, huh?" His hands lingered on the boys shoulders. He had a large grin on his face, he was so happy about helping his sister run this place. For a start, no one would suspect that he was growing weed in an orphanage, and for a second, he loved being around people.

 

[Rise]

This guy is the definition of hippy! Ryder thought amusedly as he looked at the man with long dreads who approached him. His hair and clothes definitely screamed it. The man introduced himself as Remy pulled him into a hug to Ryder's surprise. Ryder wouldn't have let him hug him for he was no female. He noticed the vague smell of marijuana on Remy and once he pulled away from the hug that he allowed, a large grin that matched Remy's was on Ryder's face.


I wonder if this guy has a stash somewhere... He decided he would have to look for it later when he got settled in. Or if I become friends with him, maybe he would share a joint with me some time.


"Nothing much, R, just waiting to be shown to my room so I can get settled in," Ryder said, allowing Remy's hand to linger on his shoulder, "I'm Ryder. I like your style by the way." He motioned to Remy's clothing, though he loved the smell more.

 

[spectro]

As Remy pulled away, he noticed the kid smiling back at him. "Sure!" He began to walk towards the stairs as Ryder mentioned his style. "Thanks," He began, "I made it myself, I could show you how to do it one day." He carried on his way up the stairs, not bothering to hold onto the smooth wooden railing. "You can probably pick a room, only two of them are taken, so any other would be okay," He got to the top and began to walk down the corridor of rooms. "Any of them, except this one and that one." He pointed to the room nearest the stairs and the room opposite the boys bathroom. "Bathrooms are just down the hall, you can get settled down." He turned back towards the stairs, calling,"If you need any help, me and Pamella will be somewhere around the house." He ran down the stairs, not wanting to miss any of the new arrivals.


When Remy got back to the door, he looked outside at his sister. She looked nervous, and he really didn't want to screw things up for her this time. With good intentions of the future, he went back to leaning on the wall, waiting for the other kids to arrive.

 

[Pine]

Nick trotted down the stairs, swinging around the corner to enter the kitchen. He was about to head straight to finding the pantry, but something else caught his attention instead. A tiny grin settled on his features. They set out a fruit bowl. Lovely. How hard are they trying to impress us? He pulled out a stool and slid onto it, his legs instantly tangling in a complex position, in which one leg tucked under the seat, allowing his feet to rest on the step of it, and his other foot was folded over the seat and pressing into his thigh.


He slouched forward over the counter, setting his elbows just on the edge as he stared down at the bowl, only taking a moment to admire it's contents. Nick leaned over then, snatching an orange from out of it amidst the selection of apples, pears and whatever other unidentified fruits. He brought it back to himself, hunching a little as his short thumb nail attempted to break the uneven skin. After what putting in what seemed like entirely took much effort, he managed to peel off a small chunk that landed unceremoniously on the counter. A small bit of juice was brought up from this action, the slightly acidic liquid squeezing out and dully burning a cut he had not realized he had. In spite of the pain, he managed to keep a straight face, ignoring the stinging.


He lifted his head at the sound of a female voice, having been unaware of her presence up until that point. Nick cast a glance over his shoulder, frowning first and foremost for her precise words, which had been clearly addressing him, then for who it was. She looked vaguely familiar... long waves of crimson hair falling about her, blue eyes jumping out, framed by a heavy application of makeup... a somewhat sulky face... His eyebrows knit together. "Jodie?" Even as the name left his mouth, he knew there was no mistaking it. He shrugged his shoulders, a small smile settling on his lips as he turned back to his fruit. "Oh, good to see you again, too."

 

[Rise]

Ryder picked up his suitcase and followed Remy up the stairs. He looked at the rooms Remy pointed that were already occupied, nodding that he understood. "Thanks, R, see you around!" Ryder called back in a light mocking cheerful voice before heading off to the room that was beside the one that was opposite the boys' bathroom.


He entered the room, it was kind of small though big enough to hold two. There was two beds and he wondered if he would have a roommate. He shrugged and placed his suitcase on top of the bed that was in the corner of the room.


"And claimed," he said to himself as he took off his backpack and placed it on the bed as well. He decided he would unpack later and he would go exploring for now. He was kind of curious to what the other kids would be like, though he would probably stay pretty much to himself. Grabbing his phone from his bag, he placed it in his pocket and left the room, closing the door behind him before heading down the hall and stairs.

 

[spectro]

Jodie stood, her mouth dropped open, her brows set in an angry position. She closed her mouth sharply and folded her arms as moved closed behind him, stomping her Doc Martin shoes on the floor. "No." She shook her head, "No, you don't get to do this, this is a new start for me, you don't get to ruin this!" She was equally shocked and angry to see Nick. He had been adopted before her and she expected that his somewhat quiet attitude would have made his new parents adore him. Obviously not.


Jodie gulped down her anger, and sighed, putting her hands beside her. "Why are you here?" She said as softly as she could, though her voice wavered. "What are the chances of two deadbeat orphan kids ending up in the same orphanage in a totally different state,huh?" she spun around slowly, taking in the sight of the kitchen. It was nice, a plain white stone dining table sat in the middle, or was it a breakfast bar-Jodie had to shake her head to get back to the subject at hand.

 

[Wiggle]

Helene watched as her uncle, a typical overweight middle aged man, and his teenaged son packed her things into the back of the family's blue SUV. After a while, of packing a couple of her suitcases into the back, her uncle closed the tail gate, and was out of breath.


"What do you have in there? Your entire inheritance?" He asked, gasping for air.


It was clear that the old man hadn't seen a minute of exercise in at least a few decades, and Helene was sure he hadn't seen his feet in much longer than that. Helene felt disgusted about how her aunt, a German national could marry such a disgusting person, let alone sleep in the same bed as him.


"Get in, and let's go this show on the road." He said and hopped into the drivers seat.


Helene followed and opened the right rear door and got into the car and buckled her seat belt. Her uncle started the car and pulled out of the drive way, and began the semi long trip to the Whitaker House. Helene found herself staring out the window of the SUV and daydreaming of her homeland. It wasn't long before she fell asleep, and actually dreaming. It seemed like seconds had past before the SUV hit a bump, causing Helene to smack her head of the window and utter a curse in German. She looked up and noticed they were driving down the country road to the Whitaker House. Helene narrowed her eyes and sighed heavily, it didn't look like much, but at least it would be quiet.


Helene's uncle pulled up and stopped the car in front of the home and killed the car, and got out to get Helene's things out of the back. He rudely tossed then out of the back and slammed the door. Uttering a quick goodbye, he jumped into the car, started it and took off, throwing dirt and rocks up.


Helene grunted and picked her suitcases up and put her backpack on and started toward the front door of the House.

 

[Pine]

There was a pause before she finally responded. Truth be told, he was surprised as well, but as she continued to speak, his surprise sank into a more confused state. And what'd I do to piss her off? Nick's lips puffed out a little and he quirked an eyebrow at his orange. He couldn't very well turn around in the surprisingly comfortable position he had managed to settle himself in, leaving his to keep casting the occasional glance over his shoulder until his neck began to hurt and he turned around again.


"And what exactly am I ruining?" he asked, looking out from the corner of his eye. What exactly did he remember about her? Jamie, that boy she was so attached to, absolutely deluded about being in love. Pathetic. The boy murdering The Headmistress had been the loss of one of the main targets of his pranks, rather unfortunately, but it would be a lie to say that he hadn't been happy that the jerk had been put under bars. However she had handled that was a little hazy to him, as he had been preoccupied with attempting to thwart away the couple that were looking to adopt him at the time with little success.


Nick shrugged at the memories and her questioning. Whatever the case, a little bit of familiarity was nice... but of course Jodie didn't seem to see it that way. He might have remembered something that he may have said that may have made her hate him... but whatever it was, he couldn't remember, and she seemed a little more calm now. He turned back to her, giving a wry, toothy grin. "I dunno'. Maybe it's fate." Nick barely managed a quick wink before he broke off into a fit of chuckles and turned back to his orange. "Kidding, of course."


He continued to peel the skin off, now getting better at letting it fall in curls onto the counter, though it was still breaking off entirely too frequently. Does this mean it's ripe or not? I don't know how fruits work at all. Nick shook his head a little bit before looking back at her and nodding. "So what's with the getup? It's too hot out."

 

[Life.]

"We have arrived to the orphanage, Kida."


A tiny frown responded to the statement softly spoken to her from the social worker. She was sitting in the backseat of the vehicle as far away as she could from the woman, even though Kida could tell she was trying to be nice. Sadness clouded her jovial spirits at the moment. Never has Kida been in an orphanage. All she has ever been is with her parents or at her neighbor's house when they were both working.


Her bottom lip jutted out and tears began to form in her eyes. Her tiny arms began to tighten around her Mr. Simmies penguin plushie for comfort.

Spoiler

Beside Kida, that placed a barrier between her and the social worker, was her penguin backpack/suitcase.

The longer Kida sat there, the more she began to sink into an abyss of emptiness. She brought up her knees close to her, crushing Mr. Simmies in a sandwich between legs and Kida's upper body. And in that position she cried. Cried for her parents, cried for the unknown future, and cried for her abandonment and confusion. The social worker frowned and her eyebrows shifted down expressing her sympathy, it all seemed generic though since she was a social worker. But a small glint of genuine sadness appeared in her eyes to prove the difference in how she felt for Kida.


Knowing that if she allowed Kida to cry it all out they would never leave the vehicle, the social worker grabbed her little backpack and opened her door to exit. She closed the door after her and walked around to Kida's door. Through the window she could see the lost child, head between her knees, crying all her pain away. With a sigh of regret, the social worker opened the door allowing some of the bright sunlight shine down on Kida, hopefully cheering her up. A breeze entered the car, causing Kida to sneeze. Rubbing her nose in response to the sneeze she lifted her head up to the social worker. "Is it nice here?" Kida whispered. The woman bent down to level with Kida, "Yes. And you will probably love all your new friends that you are going to make."


"Friends..." Kida's eyes wandered from the landscape over to the building. Sniffling a bit more she fixed herself into a sitting position to allow her to easily exit the vehicle. Slowly at first Kida stuck one foot out. Hesitation took over then.


"Don't worry. It's all going to be great," the social worker encouraged.


Falling so easily for the social worker's words, Kida jumped down from the car. The social worker closed the door behind Kida. Her eyes red and puffy, her hair a wild caramel mess, and with her old, dirty Mr. Simmies, Kida straigtened herself up for the woman at the entrance of the orphanage. The social worker placed a hand gently behind her back and guided her forward. At first Kida cringed at her touch, but feeling the warmth of her hand on her back she felt soothed from her distruaght state.


"Hello Ms. Pamella, this is Kida Irene Saldon," the social worker introduced Kida for her. She was glad for it because Kida did not exactly want to talk to another adult at the moment. Her eyes were looking down at the ground watching the many bugs inhabiting the landscape as her arms were still clung around her Mr. Simmies.

 

[spectro]

"What exactly am I ruining?" Nick asked, an well, that really did make Jodie think. What was he ruining? Her chance at a new life? A new look? Jodie shrugged off the question and ignored him, which he took rather well as she began to talk about fate, which opened her ears. She was firm believer in destiny and fate, and here Nick was, seeming to mock it.


Jodie scowled at Nick as he asked her about her 'get up'. She fidgeted uncomfortable and then raised her head, holding her ground.


"I'm trying something new out." She said, matter of factly. She sighed loudly and put her elbows on the counter, burying her head in her hands. "Please don't tell anyone that I'm just-well, dressing up. As far as I'm concerned we don't even know each other any more." She stood up properly and straightened her Nirvana t-shirt. "So, as much as this pains me to say it, can we somehow have a new start? A re-do, if you will. Because if I am totally honest, I don't want to have anything to do with either of our pasts and-" She stopped to take a breath, "I don't want to remember any of the shit that went down at Sunny Brooks or the New Life Centre. Capiche?" She was almost breathless now, but she folded her arms and waited for his more than likely negative reply.





 
Avery yawned as she awoke from her travel-sleeping. It hadn't been a long trip, but it was enough to make her feel the terrible nausea that only came with car journeys.


"Hey, we're here, time to get up." It was her foster Father, George. In short, he was an ass hole. A well rounded son-of-a-bitch. He wasn't sympathetic-or kind. The day that Avery went against him and punched him square in the jaw was the day he decided to send her away. His wife, Cilla, was a lovely lady. It was the usual sob story, she couldn't have kids, so she adopted. Avery knew she was controlled by George, she could tell every time she looked at them. The little startled shake she'd do if he went near her, or how if he looked at her for too long, she'd tear up. Avery was glad to be rid of them both, but she did feel a twang of sympathy for Cilla.


Avery didn't acknowledge George as she got out of the car and walked around to the back, opening the trunk of their old Ford Escort and taking out her little black suitcase. He followed her to the back, but Avery stopped him, "Look, you don't care, and frankly, it'd be easier if I did this alone, so get back in your car and leave." She turned away from him and slammed the trunk shut. She pulled the case behind her as she walked up to a few people. There were two women and a little girl who looked around 10. As she approached, she lifted up a hand in greeting and spoke, "I'm Avery." She moved in next to the little girl and spotted that she had a little penguin plushie. "Hey, I used to have one of those." She smiled slightly.

 

[Wiggle]

Helene had turned around and watched her Uncle's taillights travel down the driveway until he took a left turn on the country road and disappeared behind the trees and was completely gone. Helene grunted and turned back around to head into her new temporary home, she had walked up to the house, her eyes focused on the ground, completely lost in thought. She didn't notice the group of women and the female child until she had nearly ran into them. Surprised, she looked up at the group and cleared her throat to speak.


"Entschuldigung, ist dies das Whitaker House? Das Waisenhaus?" She asked, clearly enough to were they all could hear her.


She had a slimmer of hope that perhaps one of them spoke German, so she wouldn't have to use her broken English. She never really paid much attention in English when she was being tutored, believe she would never need it, and how wrong she was. She knew they most likely didn't speak German, but she tried nonetheless.

 

[Pine]

Pamella snapped back to attention at the sound of tires crunching against gravel as three cars lined up the driveway almost consecutively. She straightened up, scrunching the folds of her skirt in her fist. They aren't... separate, are they? Still, as they all individually unloaded, an easy smile crossed her face. At the very least, she could name them off in her head. She had, after all, studied the profile of each kid for long enough. The first to approach her was unmistakably Kida. After all, all the other kids were approximately the same age, if not the same age. As for the other girls... she was pretty sure she knew who was who.


Regarding the little girl, however, Pamella knew the tragedy she had suffered was rather recent, and by the looks of her, she wasn't entirely over it. She nodded to the social worker that was accompanying the eight-year-old. "Ah, yes, I would know that face anywhere." She hunched forward, resting her elbows on her knees and smiled at the girl, who was avoiding eye contact. Still, she reached to pat the girl on the head and decided to bestow her best comforting words after a short sigh. "In the city fields... strangers are like friends." Allowing her time for to process her words after a short nod, Pamella straightened herself and looked back at the social worker. "Thank you for bringing her."


Her gaze shifted over to the next approaching girl, who saved her the trouble of remembering her name by introducing herself. "Hello Avery, you can call me Pamella. Welcome to the Whitaker House!" she piped, forcing out an up-beat attitude the more the kids appeared. Briefly interjecting the beginning of her conversation with the younger girl, she began, "I'm sure you two will get along great. You two will be rooming together." She gestured to the door. "If you can find Remy inside, he'll show you to your room."


Her smile faltered the girl from the first vehicle finally got to them and began speaking. Oh, right, the German girl, right? Helene, wasn't it? This girl was the one she had been most worried about trying to communicate with. After all, her experience in foreign languages were practically non-existent, save for some basic French from her days of high school. "Ah..." Her grin was uneasy and her forehead creased in worry. "Hello! Helen... right? Can you... do you know English at all?" Maybe? Hopefully? Please?

 

[Wiggle]

"Helene." Helene said slowly , taking care to pronounce it so that Pamella could understand.


She listened to her talk, and tried to remember how to respond to Pamella's question. She struggled to recall the words for what she needed to say, and just decided to say it in German first.


"Nicht wirklich." She said. "Ich lerne noch."


Her face grew a rosy tint and she smiled, obviously embarrassed by her lack of understanding of the English language. Pamella might as well have been speaking Chinese or Japanese to her.


"I....will try mein Beste." She said slowly. "I am learning noch....still."


She beamed, proud of herself that she had managed to get that little bit of Denglish out, and hopefully she understood Helene.

 

[Trignome]

The leaves rustled slightly as he reached up to tug on the low-hanging branch above him. It's maple, isn't it? Isadore twirled the stem of the russet-golden star between his fingers and smiled. How long had he been standing under this tree, watching the house and its occupants making merry about the yard? Well, so far as he could tell, there seemed to be more girls in this institution; not that HE was interested. But I'm sure Casanova would be appreciative if he were here. The boy paused in his thoughts, the maple leaf poised between his trembling fingers. ...if he were here... It'd been a complete miscalculation on his part. Of course there would've been consequences. I was prepared for everything except separation. Oh, the irony. Isadore cupped the golden star in his hands and slowly began to shred it into pieces. I wonder how he's doing now?


The sound of a slight cough stirred Isadore from his musings. From beneath the furrow of his brow, he spared a glance up at the figure standing beside him. The man was considerably tall and thin, with translucent, papery flesh that draped over his bony frame like a thin veil. His face had the sunken look only acquirable through a weary life of hardships and mental duress, but his eyes still glittered like black opals embedded in the shadows of an intelligent mind. The old man placed a thin, bony hand on Isadore's shoulder and gestured at what remained of the maple leaf. "Is it nerves, I wonder?" Isadore shrugged, as a response to the question, but also to jostle the man's hand off his shoulder.


The old man sighed resignedly. "...so impatient. Do you have everything?"


"Yes. Clothes, toiletries, textbooks, backpack. Notes." Isadore recited the list for the third time that morning.


The old man nodded. "You won't lose them this time?"


"I won't." A light flickered briefly in the dark brown of Isadore's eyes. I know where my notes are. Where and with whom.


The old man checked the time on his watch. "Then I suppose I should take my leave. You have your cellphone if you need to contact me?"


"I think so. I'll buy a new one if I don't."


The old man chuckled dryly. "Alright. Then I suppose I should take my leave." He turned and walked back to the black Tesla parked on the curb.


Just before he slipped into the driver's seat, he waved to Isadore. Isadore tilted his head, then pointedly looked away. As the the car silently glided away down the street, he finally opened his clenched fists and scattered the bits of maple leaf onto the ground. He dusted off his palms, then grabbed the strap of his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. It was with a pensive eye that he regarded the now crowded driveway. I really don't feel like people-ing right now. He kept close to the woods, listening to the chatter from the small group of kids and the woman he assumed was one of the caretakers. I hear German...? Sighing quietly through his nose, he made his way down the driveway and approached the brown-haired woman. With an entirely somber expression, Isadore made a sweeping bow before gesturing at the front door.


"So I was wondering, madam. How much for a meal and board?"

 

[Pine]

Nick's eyebrow quirked higher as she continued talking, becoming increasingly baffled by her behavior and whatever she was expecting him to go around doing. What, does she think I find gossiping about changing trends fun? Everything about her was striking him as odd, considering she had been one of the only normal people he had ever met in the orphanage system, but he didn't care enough to talk to others about it. He fixed her with her puzzled expression, eyes widened to enunciate how stupid she sounded with her request. "Okay? Whatever."


Still, he shook his head as he threw down the final of the orange peel, popping it off from the bottom. Nick was beyond comprehension of how she intended to 'start over' as she put it. Did she want him to pretend like she was a total stranger? He decided not to dwell too much on that. "You can do whatever you want. I'm not about to be able to forget anything." How could he after so much had happened? As it turned out, all the things that happened at those two orphanages were rare, and as soon as he was separated from that particular group of kids, everything had felt normal... or, well, as normal as he figured that his life could get now. He would never forget.


He split the fruit down the middle, a little bit of the juice spilling over his fingers again and making them sticky, as it had been pooled beneath the thin skin. Nick dropped one half on the biggest peel segment, and with the other, removed an individual slice and looked at the girl next to him, holding it out as a polite offering. "And I don't think you can, either," he added matter-of-factly.

 

[spectro]

Jodie looked at Nick, and then to the orange, her face was no longer angry, but relaxed and she was so glad he had said that. "You're right." She grabbed the segment, turning away from him and looking outside. She put the segment in her mouth and sucked the juice from the orange. It was a little sour, but then again, Jodie liked sour things. She tossed it into the bin, leaving the flesh of the fruit still there; she didn't like to eat that part. "So," She turned back to him, "Why are you here? Did you annoy your foster parents to death? Because I'm pretty sure I did." She took a seat at the dining table.


Jodie saw how Nick hadn't particularly changed. His hair had gotten a tiny bit longer, but it had obviously been cut, otherwise it would be shoulder length by now. He still wore those dreary khaki shorts that made her feel nauseous every time she laid eyes on them.

 

[Life.]

The social worker nodded once she saw that Pamella has taken over the situation. Gently she placed the backpack she carried down beside Kida. She released her presence from Kida and began to walk away. A flash of panic ran through Kida as the social worker left, once again Kida became attached to someone too quickly, sadly an aspect of her childish nature. Comfort was all she sought at the moment. When she felt the warm hand on her back disappear, her head whipped up to see the social worker walking away. Kida was about to cry out to her when she felt another warm hand on her head. She turned back to see the hand belonged to another adult, Pamella. Kida looked into her eyes and took in her words. She just gave a slight nod to show acknowledgement that she heard but in her mind she did not exactly understood what she meant.


From beside her Kida caught a voice, "Hey, I used to have one of those." Her huge brown eyes looked up to a girl older than her with short hair. Kida saw her attention was on the stuffed penguin in her arms. Her eyes glanced down once then back up at the girl named Avery. Quietly she responded, "M-my mommy gave me this." Just being able to share something personal gave the little child happiness.


Kida looked up once more when she heard Pamella talking to both of them, Avery and her. The tiny hand of Kida grabbed the handle on her penguin backpack and nodded, "Okay." Her little child mind didn't ponder too much on the thought of roommates or anything. She was just glad it was someone who was nice. The realization of her loneliness came back to her when she heard the sound of the car the social worker was in drive away. By some involuntary movement, Kida lifted one of her arms from the grasp around Mr. Simmies to grab the hand of the girl Avery beside her.

 

[spectro]

Avery was about to walk into the house alone, when the girl, Kida, grabbed her hand. Smiling, Avery gave Kida's hand an encouraging squeeze before stepping into the house. A man leant on the wall just next to the door, looking slightly vacant. "Uh, hello?" She enquired. He didn't respond; just stared blankly into the space before him. Avery looked at Kida and gave an amused look. Warily, she brought up her right hand and waved it in front of the guy's face. He jumped into life immediately, looking at Avery, who was startled by his sudden movement.





"Hi!" He grinned, "Remy's the name, or R if you wanna." He dropped his eyes to Kida and bent down, "Ah, the first child!" He thought of something that might amuse her. "Now, don't go running around the house, we wouldn't want your little penguin here to get lost." He said, pathetically. He had never dealt with kids before, which was probably something he should of thought of before he went into running an orphanage. "Anyway," He stood, "Your room." He started towards the stairs a she had done when Ryder had arrived and walked down the dorm corridor. He decided to show them into a room, considering the fact that some of them were full and he didn't want to confuse them. "Here you go." He opened the door opposite to the girls bathroom. "If you need anything, just call." He made his way back downstairs.





"He was a little crazy." Avery spoke as she swept her fringe over to the side a little. The room they had been give was large and had two beds at either side. It was enough for Avery, just a bed, a desk and a wardrobe. She doubted she would need the desk, considering she didn't usually do her homework, and if she did, she would do it on her bed, roughly. Avery waited for Kida to come in and then she closed the door behind her, not wanting anyone to walk by or come in. When they were both in the room, Avery began to unpack. She wanted to be settled as soon as possible.

 

[Life.]

Kida felt the needed comfort when the girl Avery squeezed her hand showing acceptance. Since Avery was not an adult, Kida didn't feel the instinctive need to cringe from her touch. She gave a small smile to Remy's response to her, not often did she have adults not know what to say to her most often responded with kindness.


Avery's responses to Remy made her smile grow. She shouldered her backpack and followed after them, her hand still in Avery's. Once she was in the room, she felt Avery's grip slip as she wandered over to one of the two beds.


Kida looked around the room. Dull. She missed her old room. Slowly she walked over to the other unclaimed bed and placed her bag onto it. Her arm was still around Mr. Simmies though. She sighed as she laid onto the bed, already tired from all that has happened within these few hours in the morning alone. A tiny yawn escaped her mouth as she stretched herself across the bed. Her arms wrapped around Mr. Simmies tighter as her eyes watched Avery trying to fight off sleep.

 

[kibou]

"God. Couldn't you have worn one of your other masks?" Ares turned his head towards the speaker, his cousin, and found himself being looked at too. Lucas had barely spoken at all the entire ride, but Ares had noticed him glancing at him every now and then. Now that the ride was soon to be over it seemed like Lucas was finally able to ask what had been bothering him.


"What do you mean?" The mask he had grabbed today didn't strike him as one of the particularly weird ones- it had a neutral expression, and not much else.


"You know what I mean! I- It's creepy, the other ones are better. Even Eva agrees." Ares narrowed his eyes at Lucas trying to persuade him by mentioning his friend, though he doubted Lucas would be able to notice.


By other ones, Ares assumed he meant the ones that weren't so realistic. The ones that didn't look like a real face.


"You should grab a different one."


"Why."


"Because!" Lucas sighed and laid his head back against the headrest, pushing his hands against the wheel, closing his eyes for as long as he could while driving and obviously frustrated with having to explain. "Look, there's- ....The other kids- If you weird them out, you're not going to be able to make any friends or anything!" Lucas was looking at him again, a concerned and exasperated expression on his face.


"I wouldn't have to 'make friends' if you weren't dumping me at this place." Ares continued to pointedly stare at him, his head resting against his hand, which was in turn resting against the window still.


"We've been over this before, there isn't anything I can do about it." Ares snorted in derision, and turned his head to face out the window again. He heard Lucas sigh, and then it was back to silence for the rest of the ride.


When the Whitaker orphanage finally came into view at the end of the long road, Ares pulled a phone out of his pocket, opened snapchat, and as the car rolled to a stop took a picture of the house. He heard a car door open, and he slid the phone into his pocket before he got out too.


Ares surveyed the house, turning his head to take it all in. The remote location and size vaguely reminded him of his home, though it looked much more modern and was at least partly made of stone. He didn't get a chance to stand there long though, as Lucas called him to get his stuff.


He walked around to the bed of the truck, pushing the dark red sleeves back up to his elbows out of habit. Lucas handed Ares his bags, and then stacked the two boxes on top of each other and pulled them out, grunting as the stack fell into his arms.


"God, how much stuff did you shove in here?"


Ares didn't answer, but instead was already making his way towards the entrance, glaring at the large building from behind his mask. From the sounds of the steps behind him, Lucas was hurrying to catch up as fast as he could without dropping anything.


The existence of a few people already standing near the door made Ares stop, choosing to stand a little ways off to the side and wait for them to go inside first.

 

[Pine]

"Oh, Helena. I'm sorry." The woman breathed an uneasy laugh. She rocked back on her heels, looking back over to the social worker to make sure she wasn't receiving any skeptical looks from the other woman. Luckily, she seemed to not notice the slip-up, or at least she sympathized, and was instead preparing to leave. Pamella was unable to keep her expression from dropping a little in her weariness. She had maybe done some babysitting in the past, but running a house full of eight was a totally different story, even with the questionable help her brother might provide, and the fact that one of the girls was foreign only managed to complicate the matter. Wasn't she supposed to have had a tutor or something?


She sighed lightly inaudibly from out of her nose when the girl continued to speak to her. Pamella suspected for a moment that there had been at least some degree of comprehension between the two of them, but then she simply answered again in German... Oh, wait, now... English. German-English? Genglish? Pamella arrived quickly to the conclusion that she should at least slow her atypical brisk manner of speech for the poor girl. "Well... thank you. If you could go inside... Remy will show you your room," she replied finally, gesturing over to the door.


Thankfully before she got entirely too overwhelmed, Avery seemed to take some degree of control over the situation and began to lead Kida inside. Pamella gave a somewhat thankful smile. Okay, I think I can deal with this if I'm just doing one thing... Then a boy appeared on the doorstep that she had not noticed before. Her grin instantly fell, not bothering to conceal the confusion that was settling onto her features as he took a sweeping bow and came up with some absurd formality. Pamella's shoulders sagged as she looked down at him, finally releasing the cotton of the skirt that she hadn't noticed she had been wadding up in her fist, and instead began plucking at the stitching along the side. "Um... Sweetie, all of that's provided." Who is this, Rhyder? No, he already came in. Ah... what?


 
For a moment, the boy suspected that she wouldn't take his offering, but was just as quickly corrected when she snatched it back. At the time, he remembered just a little of their first meeting, in which she, too, had taken some of his food... though he had hardly been offering it that time. Nick snorted lightly at her comment, looking back to the orange and peeling it into two-piece segments. "Of course I'm right," he muttered inaudibly, before plucking the fruit in his mouth.


He looked back over, if only to catch the sight of her slurping up the liquid from the orange, before chucking the rest of it in the trash. Nick looked over warily, distracted from his meal as a disconcerted feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, before he forcibly snapped his head back to look at the fruit in his palm. "They have orange juice for that, y'know," he commented once again under his breath in quiet resolve to not offer her any more, the orange that was still in his mouth aiding in muffling his voice.


The boy didn't bother to finish swallowing had already been ground between his teeth before he stuffed the other segment into his mouth. Nick straightened his back to stretch, raising his shoulders looking over at her once more as she stirred up conversation and took a seat on the stool by him. A satirical grin crossed his face, finally bothering to choke down his food fully before he spoke again. "You too?" He split the other half in two. "Not to death, but I tried. It took way too long. Been almost four months." He popped another couple of slices in his mouth, closing the other gingerly in his fist as he rested his wrist on the counter.

 

[Wiggle]

Helene followed her gesture to the door, nodded and then smiled at Pamella. She knew she was welcome, and would try not to cause to much trouble for the obviously overwhelmed woman.


"Dankeschön." Helene said, thanking the woman.


She walked inside and kind of just stood in the entrance way and just kind of looked around. The woman had said something about a Remy-room? Helene understood the word room, but what exactly was a Remy-room? Helene scanned the living room and saw a man standing by himself over by the stairs. He seemed to have an appearance like one seen in the 1960s American newspapers articles about people called Hippies. Was this one of them? She didn't think that anyone even dressed like that anymore. She cautiously approached the man and opened her mouth to ask about this remy-room.


"Entschuldigung, was is a remy-room?" She asked. "Und wo ist mein Schlafzimmer?"