Realistic or Modern Angelwood : Main

[horrorshow]

Angelwood Academy, a prestigious art college founded in the late sixties.
Applicants are turned away left and right, as spots in this academy are reserved for only the greatest talents. Most of the students were found by talent sharks and invited to attend. All of the students, regardless of how they got in, are under the same strict schedules and must maintain all the expectations put on them. It has been this way since the foundation, and the faculty does their utmost to keep up the traditions. However, with the changing of times, the students are also changing. While most of them come from families who have also attended the college in the past, who upheld the morals and class of the Angelwood name, they are young and in a new time. It is becoming more and more common for students to be expelled from Angelwood. Because while the attention span and dedication of the youth is decreasing, the expectations of the school are not.

Located right outside of San Francisco, California, there is just too much temptation to let loose and be young. Even for those who thought they came here to focus on their art.​

 

[horrorshow]

Stress was a state of being that Rowan had become accustomed to. When there was not a book in his face it seemed the world around him moved at unthinkable speeds and keeping up was next to impossible. On the day that he arrived at Angelwood Academy, the furthest place from picturesque Metairie he had ever traveled, Rowan realized that he had not yet known the depths of stress the world had to offer. Always alone to navigate unfamiliar situations, he was used to the isolation he felt even though he was surrounded by other people. The only conversations he had engaged in so far were with administration, school officials. He was not sure he had even yet made eye contact with another student. Everyone appeared on a mission, and Rowan felt that he was moving much slower than the rest of the world. This was familiarity, in that way.

Anxiety was setting in about the upcoming reality that was roommates. Rowan had always been alone with his thoughts. He had been so afraid of meeting them that he had left the dorm entirely after leaving his things there. He had been the first boy to arrive in his room, and he found it as inviting and comfortable as all the brochures and pictures from the website had promised. Being such a prestigious school, they spared no expense in keeping up their, perhaps small, but extremely attractive rooms. Passing by other dorm rooms on the way to his own, as students went in and out of their doors, Rowan noticed that each one hosted small differences, none of the rooms were entirely identical like he imagined most dorms would be, their layouts differing here and there. In his own dorm, Rowan found three beds, a bunk bed nearer to the back of the room, and a loft bed closer to the entrance. There were three desks, one of them under the loft bed that looked dark and empty, and Rowan thought even a little lonely as it was separated from the other two that were directly next to each other and close to large windows that allowed the bright sun to stream onto them. It was irrational the way his mind began working, he imagined that his roommates would likely become good friends, having a similar friend circle and much in common. Rowan on the other hand would spend all of his time alone, excluded from most interaction. Why did he think like that? Years of failed friendships told him that he had to think this way. That he had to accept the loneliness and the isolation. That college was going to be no different. That thought caused him to toss his belongings onto the loft bed, the one that was alone and away from the more interactive side of the room. He acknowledged, too, he was likely to be the quieter of the boys in his room, as his experience with other boys had always been that they were rowdy and lawless. He had no real understanding of how people worked outside of the south, but he assumed they would all be the same.

All morning long had been business and work and trying to understand where he was supposed to be and how he was supposed to feel. Now, he was aimless. Not knowing what to do and having only his messenger bag over his shoulder, Rowan had taken off walking far away from the dorms. He relented to the exhaustion of travel at some point, and had settled himself in a coffee shop on campus. The coffee was terrible, and Rowan longed for the familiarity of Louisiana's Community Coffee, their dark roast having been his constant companion in high school. He knew he needed to take out his laptop, go over class schedules and attempt to familiarize himself with his new area, but he was tired. Both physically and mentally, Rowan felt overwhelmed.
He was seated right by a window at a small table with only two chairs that faced each other. Instead of watching the other patrons of the coffee shop, he was distracted by the students who were passing by outside. A girl and what looked to be her mother were walking around, Rowan assumed they were mapping out the area. She looked around Rowan's own age, and it became apparent that the younger the other students looked the more likely it was that he witnessed a parent accompanying them on their first day. Parents did that? Rowan wondered. His never would have come to see him off. The girl and her mother, who he had been watching, stopped at one point as she raised her phone in front of them and smiled for the camera. A "First Day of Art Academy Selfie" with her Mom. Rowan smiled to ignore the pain that briefly took him.
He recalled that morning as he left from Louisiana, how he had awakened long before sunrise to get himself together for his flight. How he had walked through a dark and seemingly vacant house to make a cup of coffee, standing alone in a kitchen that his mother had somehow managed to trash the night before while Rowan slept. It was not until he was walking out of his front door at five-thirty that his mother woke up, and she came outside to sit on the front porch with him while he waited for his boss from the antique shop to pick him up. She couldn't have even been bothered to drive him herself. The click of the lighter as she lit her cigarette had seemed so loud in the silence, and finally she had spoken. You excited? Was all she had asked. Rowan could not remember now, so many hours later into the day, what he had said in response. But it was the last thing he had said to her before getting into a car and giving her a brief wave as she leaned over to put the cigarette out on the masonry of the front porch before tossing its remains into the front yard. She did not see her son waving, and he did not try for her attention any further. After all, that had been his entire life, his mother barely noticing as her son went from accomplishment to accomplishment, from a boy to some sort of excuse for an adult. Maybe some part of her knew that this was the single most exciting and frightening day of Rowan's life, but she did not make it known to anyone else.

Skilled as ever in the art of pulling himself out of dark or troubling thought patterns, Rowan finally took his laptop out of his bag, placed it on the table in front of him, and waited for it to start up. He had not used it once on the flight, having entertained himself with music and thoughts that got carried away, flights of fancy regarding his new life. He needed to remember what day his classes actually started, and if he had any time to explore before becoming entrapped in constant work. First things first, he told himself as he brought up his internet browser, I need to find pancakes.

 

[voracity]

Closing the door behind her, Alex made haste to pull off the giant scarf wrapped around her neck. September back home was crispy and chilly, but here in California, after spending a good half an hour hauling her belongings into her room, the breeze wasn’t quite as generous, certainly not enough to keep her from sweating. And this damned scarf wasn’t exactly able to make things any better. Discarding the scarf onto the couch just a few steps away, Alex grunted audibly as she wheeled the last suitcase into the first room, straight in view from the front door.

Inside, the room was rather sparse. She had already unpacked some of her belongings, but she had no doubt it’d take the rest of the day if she wanted to properly settle in with all of her comforts available to her. Comforts. She had to bite back a laugh as her mother’s voice fondly echoed the same sentiment in her memory. What Alex considered a comfort was vastly different from most of the girls her age back home. Case in point, she supposed, as she turned to the desk, already host to some of her comforts - two different microphones, pieces of the stand, filter, headphone, mac book … ah this suitcase must be the one that had her keyboard then. Along with the rest of the bigger hardware. As she gathered the instrument from the confines of the large case, propping it against the desk carefully, her thoughts wondered, fingers lingering as she pulled back.

True, these were her comforts, a badge of her dedication. With just this, back home, she had earned her right to walk with her head held high. But … she remembered how she had spoken with some of the senior students when she had been asking for directions earlier. They all had eyes like mine, she recalled grimly. Predatory almost, hungry. It was like finding a shark that thought you were more amusing than appetizing, and sure not everyone was like that, but Alex held onto the fear that she could never emulate that, never again. And she had never learned to cast her eyes downwards, only upwards, forwards. She was acutely aware that she really was not unlike the biggest fish of a small pond - and the doubt that stemmed from that was irritating, clouding.

Thankfully, that frustration was an old friend. And in it, she also found a resounding answer: backwater talent sure, maybe so, but this is exactly where she ought to be if she desired to be anything more than just that. It is here, she knows, that is the only place that can sharpen my own teeth.

For the next fifteen minutes, she made good time sorting her clothing and school needs before her stomach growled. Oof. Knowing that what progress she had made was more than acceptable to warrant a break, she pocketed her phone, wallet, zipped her jacket and reached for her …

“ … Where’s my … “ scarf? She peeked under the neat pile she had made, nope. Scarf? She squinted as she lifted her mac book. Nope. Shit. “Fuck.” There was only one other stop she’d made today before coming into the dorm. Slipping into her well worn boots, she stumbled her way to the front door, patting herself down for the dorm card key just as she tore the door open.

“I’m - Sorry! Sorry!” She called out, side stepping, first into the door frame, then into the poor unfortunate woman on the other side of the door before slipping past her and out the dormitory common grounds and onto the campus.

- - -​

When she stepped inside the coffee shop, completely out of breath, some despair began to swell in her stomach just seeing the number of patrons inside, and in line. She had never been comfortable reaching out to groups of people, certainly not when they were the kind of people that lined all four people up for drinks and food just for the one person. Thankfully though, she found one lone man, with only his laptop as his companion. He could be shy, quiet and passive - she internally groaned, fearfully anticipating a long, drawn out conversation to follow her inquiry, but Alex couldn’t hope to hold onto those shallow standards and avoid people, not when she was out in the bigger world like this. Hoping against hope that she wouldn’t regret asking him for assistance, she took a seat in front of him abruptly.

“Hi - sorry, I,” she paused, catching her breath quickly for three beats before casting a hand to the general area of the coffee shop, “have you seen a scarf in here? Black? Really thick?”

 

[redroseknight]

"Yes, I'm sure that I have everything. Mama," the tall brunette said into her cell phone as she sat on the edge of her dorm room bed. "I love you too, and give Papa my love as well."

It was taking forever for her to get off the phone with her mother, but that was to be expected when one had a very...involved...family. Perhaps that was putting it mildly as she was once again asked if the living conditions were up to a Lupei's standards. God forbid if there had been a speck of dust! With as much as the family was donating to the institution, they had better live up to their end of the bargain regarding both living arrangements and the curriculum. Honestly, the fact that the family donated money to the institution didn't sit well with Yessenia since she wished to know that she had earned her position in the prestigious academy. What if her position at the academy had only been bought? She knew plenty of her peers from her prep school days who had essentially bought their way into Harvard because she knew for a fact that some of those kids were no where near bright enough to pass the entrance exams! Especially Anthony Wesker, that boy barely had the sense God graced a cat yet some how managed to be able to attend Yale.

"Yes, I won't forget about the exhibit at the Rosenberg's..." The brunette rolled her hazel eyes as she listened to her mother going on a small tangent about how many available bachelors there were going to be at this showing. Because of course her mother still hadn't accepted that her only daughter was a lesbian. Why would that fact possibly register in her mother's head? Of course, that was not withstanding the fact that Yessenia really didn't have time for relationships, Not when she had aspirations of being a headlining star on Broadway. She could have only one love in her life unfortunately, and Yessenia had made the decision for it to be the stage. That didn't stop her mother from meddling in her life and trying to fix her up with gentlemen of good pedigree.

"The red dress. Mhm. Yes. I love you too, Mama."

As soon as the phone clicked at long last, Yessenia laid back on her bed with an exasperated sigh. Thank goodness that was finally over. She loved her mother, she truly did, but the woman was absolutely exhausting for Yessenia to deal with for longer than half an hour at a time. There were always questions, expectations, demands veiled as suggestions. As if she wasn't an adult at this point and could very well make her own decisions regarding her life and where it was headed.

Which...who was she kidding?

She couldn't. Not when there were so many people who would be absolutely devastated if she failed to be as brilliant as they thought she was. Their star that they pinned their hopes and dreams upon. Her parents often bragged to their peers about her accolades, how gifted she was and that she had been chosen by Angelwood Academy due to her overwhelming talent on the stage and her voice. It was a lot of pressure that they placed upon her to live up to such expectations even if they had been well meaning. Which she was sure that they were; her parents just wanted the absolute best for her in their own way even if their particular sort of lifestyle didn't appeal to her and negatively affected her at times. Besides, didn't it help her just strive to be better? Wouldn't she be just as bad as those aimlessly drifting youngsters if it wasn't for their guiding hand to make sure that she stayed on the path to success?

After taking a deep breath to resettle her nerves following that discussion with her mother, Yessenia rose up from her bed and smoothed out every wrinkle that had appeared on the sheets due to her lying back on it. Then the woman straightened her clothing. Light blue jeans that hugged her lean legs, a white long sleeved shirt layered beneath a blue jean jacket adorning her upper torso. She was meticulous about her appearance, always making sure that her clothing was in near perfect condition, no threads ever hanging loose and collars always perfectly crisp. Her long raven hair had a slight curl to it, and she took great pride in its shine and softness. A person's worth was judged in a moment of meeting in most cases, and her mother had always taught her the importance of first impressions. First impressions which she hadn't even yet made with those she was going to be rooming with. This being the first time to live with someone other than her parents, she didn't quite know what to expect. She didn't come seeking friendship so her concerns were more aligned with how living with other people would mesh with her rigorous schedule and if there would be some disturbances to her sleep schedule.

No one wanted to deal with a Yessenia Lupei who went with less than six hours of sleep.

"Well, i suppose that I'll see everyone later when they settle in. For now..these aren't going to unpack themselves." After putting on some music, deciding on listening to some Heart so that she had something energizing, she began to unpack her belongings and put them away. Seni put extra effort into making her room look as completely perfect as possible, every little item down to her sock drawer neatly arranged. It was where she had control in her life, and she was able to hide the chaos in her heart and soul behind this facade of being absolutely perfect. She even went to the common room and began reorganizing things and straightening them to her impossible expectations. Never were her roommates going to be able to meet her standards, and it was going to likely be a point of contention during their living together.