Realistic or Modern Auburn Springs

[Soap]

Mercedes averted her gaze from Dani, Sly, and Ren after they disbanded. She placed two hands on both sides of her head, trying to rid the pounding headache that tonight had given her. With the drinks and stress combined it had created a monster of a migraine, the room spinning itself didn't help at all. Her liquid courage faded instantly when she attempted to shake off whatever daze she was in-- and CK was nowhere to be found in the warehouse.

Her heart dropped and her eyes darted everywhere, trying her best not to land her gaze on the small drops of blood that had led towards the door. "CK?!" Mer shouted, exiting the warehouse and scanning amazingly empty street, that alone had been enough to set Mer off. "CK!" She was a terrible sister. Terrible. No matter how hard Mercedes tried to avoid the worst of things, it always ended up happening. Maybe it was just destined for her to fail at everything.

One job.

She had one job. Just get home and she managed to lose CK. Her breathing had gotten heavy, and Mercedes felt tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. She lifted a hand to her chest, scratching one particular spot that felt so empty, harder and harder as if she was trying to rid herself of whatever panic she was feeling. Okay Mercedes, breathe. Just breathe. The brunette steadied herself with one deep breath, putting all her focus on finding CK. He couldn't of gotten far. A shadow had caught her attention,

"CK?" A dark figure turned around-- and he clearly, wasn't CK. "U-uh, sorry. I thought you were someone I..." The older man barely blinked, he simply just stared at her and it was beginning to make her uncomfortable. Mercedes went to Ambridge countless times, hell, she still went. But wherever they were? This was a place she wasn't familiar with.

"Are you looking for someone, miss?" Something about him screamed creepy, she wasn't sure what it was-- but the only thing Mercedes wanted to do was get away, and rather quickly. She didn't reply, instead she walked and walked until her pace had steadily turned into a jog. Ignoring the older man's muffled words behind her. Finally, she had found CK-- and while she heaved a sigh a relief, nothing about his state was relieving. "Jesus, CK." She placed two hands against his face, trying to get him to look at her. "Hey, I'm here. Can you hear me? Can you talk to me?" Fuck tonight. Fuck everything about tonight. That panic had started to set in again and Mercedes hands were starting to shake.

She never handled herself well under pressure.

A car had came their way, and for the slightest moment-- Mercedes was almost afraid it had been the man she'd bumped into a while earlier. She choked out a sob when she noticed it was Dex. Thankful for however he had managed to find them, there was no way she'd be able to do any of this alone. She tried to help carry him towards the car, but every limb in her body just felt like jelly. She had climbed in the back with CK before replying for him.

"He needs a doctor, I don't think he's... he's not alright, Dex." The sight of CK alone was enough to shudder, maybe it wasn't anything overly serious-- or maybe it was. Either way, leaving him like this wasn't okay. Mercedes searched the backseat for any kind of jackets, sweaters, anything, once she had came upon one, she set it underneath CK's head, hoping to ease whatever injury he had taken.

And hopefully it wasn't too bad.

She should be honest with herself though, everything about this situation was bad.

Mercedes

INTERACTIONS:: Dex, CK

MENTIONS:

TAGS: hery ditto

code by valen t.

 

[ditto]

fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 10:05 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr

... chelsea freud ...

MOOD

???

LOCATION

somewhere in ambridge

TAGS

dex hery mercedes Soap

The black veil in front of Chelsea’s face was making it hard to breathe. He didn’t know what that was, exactly, or why that was. He’d never felt anything like this before.

Was it feeling? Could he call it that? Maybe it was more accurate to say that he’d never not felt anything like this before. He’d never experienced a sensation like this; he’d never felt such nothing as this. It was like he was in a void, suspended, unable to see, unable to feel, unable to move, growing less and less aware of his thoughts by the second, grasping at the neurons in his brain and telling them to fight, begging them to stay alive.

Was he going to die here? Was this his end? Was this what he got for depending on Dexter to be his savior in white?

No. No, he knew that he could depend on him. He had to. He was his last chance, and his only way out.

As he sat, unaware of if he was still breathing because he couldn’t feel, or see, or hear, Chelsea— or whatever or whoever he was at this point— recalled, in snapshots, what had happened that forever ago.

The blood. Fuck, the blood. It had been so dark, and it had looked so deep. Where it pooled on the concrete had looked like it was endless— like some dark void that he could’ve jumped into.

Someone’s life. That had been someone’s life, and all of it would have leaked out if he had gotten there even a minute later.

What if he hadn’t come? What would have happened?

He was in the same position; he knew the answer.

The blood had been all over Dex’s hands, and all over CK’s clothes. The stuff on his clothes had ended up bright red, which, when he’d taken the peroxide to it after he’d gotten home, had seemed so odd. There were colors of all kinds, reds of all hues, and, if you lost them all…

You died. That was the end.

If you took a life, the life couldn’t come back; if your life was the one that was taken, then there wasn’t any return from that.

While there was something fascinating about it, it was more terrifying the closer and closer you got.

He was close; he felt it.

Here Chelsea was, one step away from death. He couldn’t feel or hear his heart beating. He couldn’t feel that singing pain anywhere in his body anymore. He couldn’t hear the sounds around him any longer. He didn’t know where his body was. He couldn’t tell what was around him. He saw and felt the black, and it filled his lungs and made it harder for him to breathe.

Please.

He didn’t know if the word had come about, but he hoped that it had.

Please.

Something touched his face. He could barely feel it at first, but it registered heavier and heavier by the second. Static pain ripped at his sides once more, and he cried out in pain.

”Hey, I'm here.”

Someone was speaking. The words were blurry, muffled, intangible. He couldn’t understand or grasp them, but he knew that they were there.

His vision, blackened, began to jump with bright magenta dots, like static behind his lids, and then large holes slowly began to gape past that static, like holes worn in thin layers of sand. As the center of his vision cleared up, he saw who it was past the blazing pain in his side and his face.

“Can you hear me? Can you talk to me?”

The voice was still muffled, but he could tell, by her expression, that she was asking him something.

She looked worried, up in a tizzy.

“Don’t…” Chelsea coughed, and he felt something drop from his hand.

He looked to the concrete.

He’d finally released his phone. It had fallen to the disgusting ground and now lay face up.

Dexter Crus
07:34

mute

keypad

speaker

add call

FaceTime

contacts

​

He exhaled sharply.

Dex. Dex. Dex.

He picked the phone up, fighting through the pain, and he held it in his lap.

“I’m fine,” he lied, moving his eyes to Mercedes. Through the heavy pulsating in his cheeks, he could feel that her hands were shaking, and he coughed, groaning in pain when he did.

Something moved in his ear. There was a soft crackle— faint— but it was there. Even as distant as it was, he’d heard something that sounded sharp, wholly unmuffled.

His eyes moved to where the sound had come from.

His heart beat in his chest.

He saw time move slowly again as the figure approached. Each plot of his footsteps sent a rip to his eyes.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

He…

He had come.

“Dex,” he breathed.

His eyes strained further, and he knew that the ripping feeling was tears.

For once, he didn’t care.

Fuck.

He was safe.

He was here.

As Dex rushed to his side, he felt his shoulders begin to shake, even as he helped him up, speaking to Mercedes.

Dex had come.

Dex had come.

Chelsea looked over at Dex with his fucked up face.

“Dex…,” he repeated. “Thank you.”

Thank you.

But thank you wasn’t good enough.

He owed him his life.

Something wet slid down his cheek. He didn’t know if it was blood or a tear.

He leaned all of his weight on the other boy as he led him to the vehicle.

“No doctor,” he said. “Just…take us home.”

His voice was broken, weak.

Take me home.

“I’m fine,” he coughed as they helped him into the backseat. The searing pain in his nose said otherwise, and he felt a small bubble when he’d spoken.

Shit, was he bleeding again?

It hurt. Everything hurt.

He was crying. He could feel it.

He gasped deeply, trying his best to contain himself.

“Just…get us home. Please.”

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[LowkeyLovingLoki]

if i get high enough

Milo wrapped his arms around Drake’s neck and held him tightly. He was glad that the physical connection could provide both of them with some comfort; even if Milo hadn’t needed it at the beginning of the night but he certainly needed it now. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually spoke about his sister, and it was weird that he felt so inclined to say something about her. He just wanted Drake to know that he got it. That it was okay that he felt like he did.

“It’s not stupid,” he whispered, the pair too close for Milo to have to speak any louder. “That sounds great. I’d really like that. You’re... I really care about you, Drake. I just want you to know that.”

milo

MOOD: time for support

LOCATION: val's party

OUTFIT: king

INTERACTIONS: Winona

code by valen t.

 

[hery]

Dexter Cruz

Auburn Springs

Dexter enjoyed the feeling of Chelsea leaning on him. He felt useful, but more than that, he felt dependable. "Shhhh, you're okay now," he murmured, relieved his friend wasn't too out of sorts to recognize him. He gave a reassuring nod to Mer once he noticed her struggling to help move Chelsea into the car. She must have been even more shaken that Chelsea himself.

The sight of mighty CK himself shedding tears was surreal. It definitely added to Dex's alarm, but a part of him was selfishly pleased he had the privilege to bear witness to such a rare occurrence. Dex paused once the three of them were adjacent to the car. He listened to Chelsea's solemn expression of gratitude with a conflicted smile. He'd only uttered three words, and he was sure CK had said them before on different, less serious occasions, but that wouldn't stop Dex from treasuring it forever. He peered into Chelsea's eyes fondly, taking a moment to savor the bond they shared; things wouldn't be the same after tonight. And, through Chelsea's deeply red left eye, Dex picked up that Chelsea could tell the same. He then gingerly rested Chelsea onto the backseat, entrusting Mercedes with accompanying him while he drove.

Dexter climbed up into the driver's seat and started up the car, making a mental note not to drive too recklessly so as to not make things more unpleasant for Chelsea. Then again, time wasn't a luxury they had. Chelsea needed medical attention as soon as possible. Dex had never lost anyone this close to him before and he sure as hell wasn't about to find out what it's like. "Take this for his, uh, blood problem," Dex directed Mer before taking off his shirt and sweatshirt and tossing it into the backseat. The muscled boy was getting a little hot anyway. He was sure a cardigan or something of Elena's was back there too; she probably wouldn't miss anything either.

Another dilemma arose, this time between Mer and CK. On one hand, Dex's top priority was to respect Chelsea's wishes and help him in any way he could. If this meant taking the two home and giving CK the peace he so desperately needed, he was obliged to do so. However, on the other hand, Mer was right. Chelsea was on death's door and no amount of pride would change the fact that they'd eventually have to ask for more help.

After starting the car and getting the hell out of the area, Dex felt the silence creep up on him. It wasn't the bad, uncertain silence, but it wasn't the reassuring silence of relief he was hoping for. He was at an impasse and it was up to him to do something. How could he expect a pained, dying Chelsea or a frazzled, suspectedly inebriated Mer to make a decision on their own? Chelsea's pleas made Dex wince and tremble slightly. He wouldn't cry. He had to show courage just like Chelsea had long ago. They were depending on him.

He finally broke the silence. "CK, I'm sorry... you really need a doctor, dude," Dex insisted firmly. He didn't know if it was the right call, but at the very least he'd sound sure of himself. It really was the least he could do. "Mer, you know anywhere we could go? Could you, uh... make a call?" Am I asking too much here...?

somewhere in ambridge

uhhhh

clothes

ditto (Chelsea) Soap (Mercedes)

coded by natasha.

 

[Soap]

A call?

Who the hell was she supposed to call?

Okay, okay. Just think Mer. Who'd help?

Mercedes needed someone who was smart, had connections, and who she trusted deeply. Mercedes taken out her phone within seconds, scrolling through her contacts before she came across the one with all the demon emojis and hearts, placing the phone near her ear she silently prayed the brunette would pick up, crossing her fingers that the little brrs would end. Finally, the line broke and Mercedes cleared her throat, clearing whatever gross mucus she might've gotten from crying earlier. "Hiiiiii Valerie." Too cheerful. Way too cheerful.

Mer sighed audibly, catching Dex's eyes in the rearview mirror before she continued. "Could I have uh... that doctor's address, y'know the one your dad knows? The house call guy? It's uh... kinda important." Kinda? Okay, well it was way more than kinda, but how else was Mercedes going to explain that her ex-boyfriend had hit CK, kidnapped them both along with his current girlfriend and a fanged-woman? "I can't really talk about it right now, so... could you just not ask?"

Mer lifted her hands to her mouth, almost about to bite her nails before she noticed all the blood on her hands and grimaced. Her sudden cheerful attitude died immediately. She glanced at CK momentarily, she continued.

"I... Uh, I really need your help, Val."

Her voice broke at the end of her sentence and it took everything inside of Mer to not burst out in tears. Whatever she said had supposedly worked, checking the incoming text, Mercedes muttered a love you and bye, knowing she wouldn't return the first one, she simply hung up.

"Take a left, here."

Mercedes directed Dex the rest of the way, switching her worried gaze from CK, to the directions on the disgustingly bloodied phone.

He'd be okay.

He had to be.

Right?

Mercedes

INTERACTIONS:: Dex, CK, Val

MENTIONS:

TAGS: hery ditto jasmyn

code by valen t.

 

[jasmyn]

OUTFIT: xxx

basics

none.

mentions

mason Winona
gray Kio.exe

interactions

Jade Jennings

jj ~ seventeen ~ senior ~ hetero ~ ambridge >> as

"Datin'. Havin' someone that's there just to be there because they want to be. Nice to feel like someone in the world would care if you just closed your eyes and never opened them again." Jade’s expression shifted a little at his words into a look of...unhappiness? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it only lasted a few brief moments before she turned away so that she wasn't facing him. The last thing she wanted was to look as if she cared about all that sappy stuff. It might've sounded great and all but people never stuck around. She assumed that Mason, of all people, would get that.

"I guess, but people never stick around. What's the point if they just leave?" she shrugged as if it meant absolutely nothing but it did. Regardless, Jade didn't need love and she damn sure didn't need anyone. She had herself and that was all she needed. JJ watched as he pushed down a couple more things before questioning who called her a whore, following up by telling her that if it was anyone from AS then it didn't matter. She opened her mouth to answer him but instead replaced whatever she was going to say with the offer of the flower vase.

Ah, Jade, flowers? You shouldn't have. The blonde cracked a smile at the joke as he plucked the vase from her hands and soon enough sent it crashing into some old desk. Just as the glass hit the floor, the sound of a whistle prompted her to spin around. At first, she had assumed they'd been caught but then her ocean blue eyes fell on a familiar face. "Gray, I wasn't sure you were gonna show," she teased, walking over to him as he offered the flask. "And you brought the party favors? What a gentleman," she added with a smirk.

After drinking what was probably three shots worth of the liquid, she handed it back. Jade could handle her liquor better than most girls but even she had a limit. She just rarely stopped at it, especially at parties. "I think there is still some Tequila left if you want some. We've been drinking it pretty fast though so who knows, " she laughed a little. Gray was another person Jade had fun with because he didn't really judge her, he just got into trouble with her sometimes. "Wanna help us trash the place or do you have better ideas?" she asked, knocking some papers off another nearby table.

code by valen t.

 

[jasmyn]

OUTFIT: xoxo

basics

harry @finessekid.23
mer Soap

interactions

raven

mentions

Valerie Flores

val ~ seventeen ~ senior ~ bi ~ auburn springs

Val's eyes scanned the crowd, subconsciously she was searching for Raven. Her mind was curious about what the other girl was doing much to her protest. Soon enough her eyes landed on the girl, who was getting very close to Frankie. Sure, that's what body shots were about but did they have to be so...ugh. Jealousy surged through her and it annoyed her. Why did she care who Raven kissed or licked or took shots with? It was frustrating.

Prove it to me, Valerie. The words pulled her gaze from the girl and back to Harry. He wasn't wrong to question her but she wasn't just going to let him think he was right either. He was challenging her and Val wasn't the type to back down from being challenged, he knew that though. The daring look in his eyes told her that much. Harry wasn't afraid to step up to Val's level and he was good at it, she recognized that much.

Her eyes met his and remained there for a moment, almost as if she was hesitating but she wasn't going to back out. Until her eyes shifted, landing on Raven again and she rolled them at the sight. Just then her phone rang and she let out a breath of relief. "I'm afraid that I have more important matters to attend to, Harry. Maybe next time. Do enjoy the party though," she smirked, holding up her phone before walking out the front door for somewhere quieter to talk.

"God, I have never been happier to get a phone call from you. Where are you? Why did you lea-" Val started to question her but the girl cut her off. At first, Valerie was going to tell her not to involve her in whatever drama was going on but her last words threw the brunette off. Uh, I really need your help, Val. It wasn't normal, playful Mer and she knew that meant something serious was going on. Something she couldn't go to the hospital for. Why else would she be calling Val anyway?

Slipping back into the noisy house and using a key to get into her father's work office, she went through his papers for a second before finding the name she'd been looking for. "Dr. John Harrison," she spoke into the phone, along with an address. "I will call him now. Go straight there and tell him to put it on me. Not my father's bill. Mine," she explained. She followed it up by promising she wouldn't ask any questions as long as Mer didn't either before making the girl repeat the address back and then hanging up. Then she quickly dialed the number of the doctor and let him know someone was coming to him.

code by valen t.

 

[Winona]

fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 1:00 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr

Drake

INTERACTIONS

N/A

MENTIONS

N/A

TAGS

N/A

Drake wondered what a weatherman would call the thunderstorm raging inside of his head. Or would it be considered more of a tornado at near fatal velocity? It was hard to say -- all Drake knew was that his brain felt like it was ripping itself apart piece by fucking piece, like a tornado tearing trees from the earth and angrily throwing them around.

He felt like screaming. He felt like crying. He felt like closing his eyes and never getting up. He felt like sleeping forever.

Instead, Drake baked.

That's right. Little Drake Martin was a semi-capable baker -- and no, not in the 420 stoner squad way of baking. If it was in reference to that kind of baking, then Drake was more of a... head baker type of sort. An expert in the field, so to speak.

And being an expert in the field meant that he was an expert at baking the most perfect array of brownies, cupcakes (for Mer since he'd accidentally promised her bacon flavored cupcakes), and cookies. The secret ingredient in all of them? Love, obviously. Jeez, what did you take him for? A stoner who was only capable of baking something if it was infused with the lovely herb known as marijuana?

... Okay, well, you would be right. Secret ingredients -- plural -- were love and weed.

After his treats were finished, Drake took to ordering an Uber (was that proper wordage? ah, who knows) and packing up the many random containers that he'd collected from their own kitchen and their neighbors to haul the sweet treats. With everything loaded, he'd taken the ride over the bridge to the fair where he'd unloaded the treats (and his banner) and taken them to his table.

Sure, his banner and setup wasn't nearly as fancy as everyone else's, but Drake would make it work. So he hung up the sign which simply read: "Not at all Suspicious Cupcakes, Brownies, and Cookies" with his best drawn emoji next to it. One of those winky bois with the little tongue sticking out. Except his looked...

Well, quite terrifying.

With that done, Drake took to unpacking the treats when someone came up, clearing their throat. Drake turned to face the boy and blinked at him, a half-hearted smile growing on his face. "Hey," he greeted.

"Hey," the boy replied. He took a step back to examine the sign again and then stepped back up to the table. "So, these aren't... normal brownies and shit, right?"

"Uhhh..." Drake needed some kind of secret code. A way to weed out the people that were here to try and bust him and get him expelled from the school for selling pot brownies to raise money for the school, but... there was something about the curly-haired boy in front of him, with his backpack, and that Green Day t-shirt adorning his chest that made Drake decide he was probably cool. Secret code could come later, so instead, he just grinned and nodded his head. "You're right. Want some?"

"Dude, yeah," the boy grinned and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He started picking through it, counting the cash, and then he just shook his head and pulled out a wad of it and held it out to Drake. "Can I just get a whole pan of brownies?"

Drake's eyes widened. This was already going way better than he'd envisioned. "Uhh, yeah, of course." He took the money from the boy's paint-stained fingers and realized that he had not brought anything to keep money in, so the cash was shoved into the worn pocket of his hoodie before he picked up a pan of said brownies and held them out to him. "Enjoy yourself."

"Yeah, thanks. Good luck with your booth." The boy gave him a grin before he turned and started walking, pan of brownies in his--

Wait.

Oh fuck.

Lydia was going to kill him when she found out that he'd sold her brownie pan.

Ahh, oh well. That was future Drake's problem.

For now, Current Drake just took to manning his booth and waiting for people to come up.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[erzulie]

mood

excited/lively

location

home > carnival

outfit

x x!

tags

interactions: natalie ( Winona ) raegan ( sunshineysoul )
mentions: n/a

karmyn

be the good that you want to see in the world

The annual school fair was always a source of excitement for both the student body of Auburn high as well as the community as a whole. Coming up with booth ideas and deciding on what type of activities would be available was always a fun process for everyone, as well as a way to bring them all together to support a common cause. Karmyn especially enjoyed watching the adults take part in the fair. The look of proud parents engaging with their children always tugged at her heartstrings. Her stomach was filled with butterflies at the thought of her own parents coming to see her progress. Karmyn had been completely dedicated to setting up a booth of her own. And spent time alone in order to brainstorm, thinking of everything from the booth idea to the design of it. And not to mention the list of sweets she would sell as well. Karmyn had everything from cupcakes and truffles, to brownies and cookies. To say that she had been thorough would be an understatement and she enjoyed the entire process immensely.

Despite all of that, all of the planning, and designing, and baking, those weren’t what she loved most about the fair. No, it was the fact that they donated the money they earned to a charity of their choice that really made Karmyn admire the fair. She was definitely her mother’s daughter in that regard, charity work was her bread and butter. Karmyn was a humanitarian before she was anything else. And this year she had been one of the many students to suggest Ambridge High. The school was in desperate need of repairing after the fire that had reduced it to ruin. While the Auburn kids could continue to say that they were fine, that they didn’t need any handouts, Karmyn was sure that they missed their school. If the situation were reversed she knew that she would miss Auburn fiercely. With the amount of money they usually earned she was confident that the school would be repaired, with hardwork they could make it better than it had been before even.

It was that hope and determination to make things better that drove Karmyn to spend the days before the carnival at her favorite sweets shop, helping out with baking. It was only right considering how big her order had been. And she certainly didn’t stop to swipe some frosting or chocolate chips for herself, nope no one had seen a thing despite the main baker chuckling at her stuffed cheeks. Her wide eyes reminded him of a squirrel. By the time they were finished Karmyn was sure that she had more than enough goods to sale without running out. And like her mother had suggested she had even placed some edible gold into some of the desserts, decorating them as carefully as she could. She really hoped that everyone would like them, that they’d be able to taste the hard work put into each sweet.

​

Karmyn looked at herself in her full length mirror. Admiring the two afro puffs that sat on either side of her head. Taming her natural hair, like always, had been a challenge but the outcome was absolutely worth it. She adjusted the bow of her babydoll dress a little and gave herself a little twirl, smiling when it fanned out. As usual she had put on her favorite lotion and person, and as a result she smelled very much like she was one of the cakes that she’d be selling. The final touches were her gold hoop earrings and a cherry choker to match the print of her dress. With that she was saying goodbye to her parents and was out the door, driving her sweets truck to the field where the carnival was being held.

Setting up had been easy since all of the desserts were already inside, Karmyn only needed to open the windows for taking orders, the bottom ones for displaying some of the sweets, and opening the awning. By the time she was finished Karmyn noticed someone approaching the truck, though rather than a customer it was Mercedes’ friend Natalie and then Natalie’s friend Raegan. Karmyn didn’t know much about them so she had been a little surprised when they’d asked to help out with handling things. Of course she had said yes, seeing as she was expecting a lot of people and more help would be better.

“I just want to thank the the two of you for helping me out. If we have any extra sweets towards the end of the carnival, feel free to take as many as you want as a thank you.” Karmyn smiled at the two girls. Now all that they had to do was wait for the customers to arrive. And before long the people started to flood in. Karmyn began tending to the customers, reaching them their orders as they approached the window.

nine lives

 

[Chimney Swift]

MOOD: Lonesome
location: The Carnival
❛ interaction ❜ Dani jasmyn , Katee ditto , Darwin Twin Fantasy

✦ OLIVER DREYFUSS ✦

In the days since the party, Oliver had been enervated and withdrawn.

After stowing away with Garrett for the weekend while he recovered from Saturday night's intoxicated breakdown, he had eventually been convinced to talk things through with Dani, who confirmed for the thousandth time that she had no plans to kill the boy-- and at long last, he listened. Sometime on Wednesday (or was it Thursday? Oliver had been losing track), he asked to move back in with her, by now clearly starved for a familiar environment.

But since then, he hadn't quite been himself.

Though he usually leaned heavily on his friends, he had barely spoken to them, shying away and becoming defensive whenever confronted. His days were spent alone in the library while at school, and holed away in his room at home. He ate seldom, slept even less. He'd been occasionally active on his social media, but his messages seemed to frequently delve into panicked and almost nonsensical rambling.

In school, his class participation had also taken a nosedive, and his teachers had begun to catch on to his declining attention span and spike in antisocial behavior. He would either be spaced out and unresponsive or jittery and aggressive, occasionally just slipping out of class without a word and not returning. Overdue assignments began to pile up on his desk. At some point around Thursday, Oliver had been called into the school counselor's office because his pre-calculus teacher was concerned by the sudden decay of Oliver's enthusiasm for the material. The things he divulged in this meeting, while mostly vague and disconnected, were deeply disturbing to the counselor. Dani had probably been called a few times... the school still had her number on file as Oliver's mother.

By the time the day of the school carnival came around, Oliver had successfully made himself so devastatingly lonely that he'd practically begged Katee to go with him, one of the only few of his hometown friends he hadn't managed to alienate. Along with Katee, Darwin (whom Oliver didn't know and was a bit cautious of, not knowing that the older boy felt the same way about him) had agreed to accompany. Feeling just a tad safer, Oliver had made up his mind to attend the carnival against all better judgment. Half the kid's problem was that he never knew what his own limitations were. But out the little fool went, hurriedly weaving through the streets of Ambridge and onto the bridge. He'd been walking to school by himself for most of the week. Usually Sly would drive him or Ryan would walk with him, but... well.

The long walk to Auburn Springs High seemed all the longer all on his own.

By the time he winded his way back up to the now familiar building, it was difficult to see it through the tears he was holding back. God-- he just cried about everything nowadays. The first day was nothing compared to this week. He didn't want to. Of course he didn't. It was embarrassing, and childish, and weak, and all the other names that had been thrown in his face that only hurt so much because they were so horribly, glaringly true.

The Carnival was packed and bustling already by the time Oliver arrived. Though the oppressive cacophony of sounds, smells, and colors immediately inundated him, his mannerisms barely seemed to adjust. He seemed to move on autopilot, drifting back into a corner to keep a lookout for Katee or Darwin... if he could even hope to spot them in the scattered mob. Crowds reminded Oliver of insects swarming. Too fast, too many, too much. That was reason number 8 why he hated insects, and reason number 1 why he hated crowds.

Eventually, though, his eyes caught his curly friend and the tall goth a little way's ahead. Oliver abandoned his little hiding spot and practically sprinted across to them, making no attempt to mask his harrowed state. He seemed unable to say anything, but offered a greeting in the form of a wave that started off eager and overenthusiastic, but quickly petered out into a weak flutter of his fingertips as his hand strayed to the drawstring on his jacket. He positioned himself closest to Katee, eyeing the new and mysterious Darwin with a half fearful, half friendly sort of curiosity... then, in a fraction of a second, one pair of deep brown eyes inadvertently locked on another and Oliver visibly stiffened, instinctively squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head away as if someone were shining a flashlight on him.

This was going to be another very long day.

code by valen t.

 

[Chimney Swift]

MOOD: Moderately excited
location: The Carnival
❛ interaction ❜

✦ MAX BERKOWITZ ✦

The early morning sunbeams creeping through the thin green curtains over the window cast an olive hue over the bedroom. A cluttered, but friendly and quiet space, decorated simply, with a sprawling spider plant as its beloved centerpiece.

The room's inhabitant, Max Berkowitz, had been up since well before dawn, clumsily working his way through a large stack of papers that were due back at school in a few days. Damn, if he never had to take Statistics again in his life, never had to make another graph, he would be so happy.

Today was the school festival, which he was actually very excited for. Raising money to rebuild the neighboring school after the fire was a good cause, and as far as he was concerned, the sooner they reached that goal the better. It wasn't that he didn't like the Ambridge students-- well, he didn't really know any of them so it was a bit early to say. But he certainly didn't dislike them. Traditionally, Max's social circle had been very small and a little distant, with many friendly acquaintances but lacking any close confidants. As to his efforts to change this, it would be a stretch to say he was making an effort. He liked things just fine the way they were.... kind of.

But one of the short few friends he did have was Darby, a sweet and somewhat sleepyheaded sophomore he'd known since she enrolled in the school, and the only other native signer he knew very well. Darby was probably the person he was closest to, for this reason and also just because she was incredibly nice. Max really didn't know what he'd do without her.

He had invited Darby to wander the carnival with him, and though he was always a little nervous around crowds, he was sure that with Darby around they'd find lots of things to do. Some of the booth ideas he'd heard sounded really cool: a handful of people were doing snacks, there would be games, there was even a kissing booth-- okay, Max was definitely not going to do that one. But still. Fun. Fun times with fun people. This was going to be alright.

He tried not to overthink it as he grabbed his car keys off his desk and ran downstairs, resisting the urge to slide down the railing like an action hero. His parents had already left early for work, so he hurried and put together breakfast for himself... well, a slice of toast and a hot cup of tea. Max was a light eater at the best of times. Realizing he was running out of time, he quickly transferred his tea into a portable mug with a lid, swiftly checked each of his pockets to make sure he had his wallet, house keys, car keys, phone (usually he was forgetting at least one of these things, but not today), then he tumbled out the door, down the front steps and into the car.

The drive up to the school was something Max actually enjoyed very much. A little moment to himself to relax and enjoy the scenery before he faced a full day of chaos and confusion. He did well in school, took a lot of honors-level courses and all that, but it certainly wasn't something he took pleasure or pride in. Especially not now. This was an incredibly taxing transition period for all of them.

Pulling into the parking lot, Max left his car and made his way to the carnival, which was already busily in session. Surely Darby would be here somewhere, or arriving soon at least... hopefully.

If not, this was going to be one long and arduous carnival.

code by valen t.

 

[ditto]

fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillersdlerfilelifr 9:14 AM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillderfillerfilr

... ian hansen ...

MOOD

pretty sure i'm dead but idk haha

LOCATION

car

TAGS

zane CryptDemon rory Winona

Ian was twenty-nine percent sure that he had a concussion and ninety percent sure that he was already dead. Sure, that didn’t add up to one-hundred, but trust him. He was, like, one or the other one, and he knew which one was more likely.

He’d hit his head plenty of times before. He knew that Rory had definitely dropped him on his head when he was an infant or something, so he’d gotten an early start. No pole nearby was ever safe from his forehead. No block on the sidewalk towards the school hadn’t been marked by the back of his skull (yeah, that’s what the dips and cracks were in them from). He was an expert at knocking his skull against things.

But this time— this time? Yeah, no. He definitely had a concussion. Or he was dead. One or the other. Sure, he’d pinched himself to see if he was awake and felt something, but you could definitely feel pain in the afterlife, right?

This time was barely his fault, too! So if he died, would it have been murder? ‘Cuz, like, yeaaaah, suuure, he opened the car door while standing behind it and smacked his face against the glass— but it was Linda’s car, so, like…did it count?

As he and his brother “sat” in the backseat (unbuckled, of course, ‘cuz bad boys don’t need restraints), Ian felt his head swimming. The earbud in his left ear blasted bass-boosted rap music, and his right ear pounded to the beat of it, but he felt kinda…woooozy. Even as he bounced about, smiling widely as he bopped with his brother, he couldn’t help but think what if I’m deceased?.

Oh, wait. Zane would definitely know. Dude was a genius.

He tugged out his earbud for a second, letting it fall and he looked at his brother, grinning and lowering his voice. “Hey, bro, bro— uh…how do you know if you’re dead?”

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[CryptDemon]

name

Zane Hansen

mood

Playfully aggressive

outfit

Here

location

In the car on the way to the fair

interactions

Ian

mentions

Ian and Rory

tags

ditto Winona

tl;dr

Zane chokes out Ian

Staring out of the window, Zanes foot idly tapped against the floor, swaying slightly to the music blaring through his right ear bud, his hair swaying slightly and falling into his eyes as he raved beside his brother, the two acting as if they weren't in the car on the way to a fair. In fact they were more akin to two women on a hens night sneaking alcohol into a cab to get waisted on the way. Currently oblivious to his twins apparent distress, Zane was far more focused on the note pad balanced on his crossed leg, his pen tapping idly against the page as he swayed. He likely should've been focusing on the catch up work, but the song was a bop, and he couldn't help but rock his little heart out to it.

Finally Zane managed to focus enough on his book to scribble down a line of writing, the appearance of the words more akin to a five year olds handwriting than anything else. All too similar to when a child tries to draw inside of the lines. That or if a spider were to fall in ink and crawl across the page, leaving chicken scratch behind it. Granted, it wasn't all of his fault. The road they travelled across was somewhat bumpy, though Zane blamed most of the bumpiness of the ride on the fact that it was his big sister driving. Glaring at the back of Rory's head as they drove, he did his best to keep his pen still and writing straight, not sure of the next bump they hit was a speed bump or a child the elder girl had just hit and used like a damn ramp.

Shaking his head, he tried to focus back on the writing, a small frown maring his lips as his hair flops into his eyes. When a soft voice cut through his music, Zane groaned quietly, rolling his eyes as he reached up, pulling the earbud from his ear to turn and stare at his younger twin, quirking a brow expectantly. When the question came however, it was certainly not one he was expecting. Blinking owlishly, he reached up, rubbing his temple softly. "You disturbed me... Just to ask me that?" He growled softly, narrowing his eyes at Ian as he closed his notebook around his pen, tucking it into the door side pocket.

Clearing his throat, he laced his fingers together before stretching them out, popping them softly as he flexed his hands, an unnatural calm falling over the boy as he finally turned to face Ian. "You know what Ian. For that, how about I show you?!" With that Zane reached out, his fingers finding the slightly shorter boys neck, holding tight but not tight enough to cause any real damage. Once his hold was in place, Zane locked on, shaking his brother back and forth as if he were ringing out a chicken. "DAMMIT IAN. JUST WHEN I MADE PROGRESS"

be unapologetically you

code by valen t.

 

[Twin Fantasy]

just like heaven

Terror was the main emotion Darwin associated with any public get-together. Terror and illness. Anxiety made bile collect in his over-sensitive stomach and he'd usually vomit, so for the night he inhaled a fistful of antacid tablets and hoped they'd be of some use other than sort of tasting good. He was gonna be in public tonight. With... people. In the past five years of living in Ambridge, he'd never really befriended anyone. He'd been content with that. He was a poet, not a... friend-making-guy. Art was his credo, not socializing. His idea of recreational drinking was pounding cheap wine in his bedroom and scrawling down the most intimate parts of his mind before his consciousness waned.

But today would be different. Apparently going to this fair was mandatory, because everybody was showing up. The merge of Ambridge and Auburn Springs had fucked everything up, and this fair thing was supposed to make them un-merge faster. Darwin hoped they would un-merge. He hated having strangers breathe down his neck, with their Gucci-brand shoes and designer drugs. He felt like they were judging him. Like they wanted to hurt him.

Everyone wanted to hurt him.

Yet there he was, in a crowd with his arms plastered to his sides, too anxious to even skip the songs playing on his phone. The most he could do was hastily jot down a Poem Of The Day on his Twitter, which perfectly encapsulated how his mind felt -- like a skipping record. He hoped nobody could see the bruises on his stomach -- his dad really had it out for him last weekend since he finished off the last six-pack. (He had an easier time sleeping when at least a little tipsy.) He prayed nobody noticed the light purple tinges on his face that he'd desperately buried in sheet-white concealer, just about the same, pallid shade as his skin.

His legs were shaking. He felt ill when he suddenly spied Oliver, who he recognized from Twitter. He smartly kept his distance -- Oliver seemed unstable. Like he might have bad intentions. Chalk it up to neurosis, but Darwin knew when he didn't feel safe. He never did, really, but now he had a tangible reason for it, which made things both better and worse. He hoped he wouldn't need his old butterfly knife.

anxious

carnival

xxx

[/url]

Chimney Swift ditto

nine lives

 

[Winona]

fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 1:00 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr

Natalie

INTERACTIONS

Karmyn, Rae

MENTIONS

N/A

TAGS

erzulie sunshineysoul

Normally, Natalie wasn't one to actually assist with the fair. She preferred to come and enjoy a handful of rides before heading home, typically with Garrett. However, when Natalie had heard that this year's proceeds would be donated to the rebuilding of Ambridge High, she had been one of the first to sign up to assist.

She wanted those wretched Bridgers out of her school and out of her city. Natalie could tolerate them for this year -- she could allow them to ruin her sophomore year of high school, but as soon as it moved into her junior and senior year, well... she would not allow them to ruin the rest of her high school career.

Raegan had also been free for the fair, so Natalie had invited her to assist with... whatever booth Natalie ended up getting wrapped up in. Her friend agreed and after some searching, she had reached out to see if Karmyn would like any assistance. The other girl had accepted Natalie's offer and she had informed Rae of what their carnival day affairs would consist of. Which was... selling cupcakes to the carnival goers. Customer service. Natalie's absolute favorite.

Sarcasm intended.

"I don't think we'll have to stay for the entire fair, but I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what happens." Nat told Rae as they grew closer to the truck. Natalie painted a pleasant smile across her features as they stepped up to the truck.

"Please, I'm so thankful that there was someone willing to allow us to assist. I just wanted to help so badly this year since it was for such a worthy cause." That worthy cause being the Bridgers getting the heck out of her school before they could make things any worse. She gave Karmyn another smile before she climbed aboard the dessert truck.

Natalie barely had time to even get herself acquainted with the truck before people starting filing up and before she knew it, they were so busy she barely even had time to think.

This better get the Bridgers out.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[Twin Fantasy]

raid kills bugs dead!

"Another call about your conduct. Maggie, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Bug threw their hands up in the air.

"It's a living!"

Ruth shrieked in exasperation, stomping away to recollect her thoughts. Bug wondered if she'd considered smacking them upside the head. It'd be, well, very parental of her, in Bug's own experience. Something about how you die a hero or live long enough to become the villain.

"You've just started at a new school. I want things to be better. For both of us. But I can't constantly be pestering you, for pete's sake, I have a daughter to take care of." Bug slouched a bit, bored out of their mind at this conversation. They were just about to head out to that big school carnival thing-a-ma-jig, and then their "legal guardian" had to stop them at the door with a bunch of bullshit. "You're not a five-year-old anymore, you can't be doing this stuff. You need to grow up."

"I'd like to grow uh-pair of nuts."

Ruth groaned.

"Just go already."

Bug smirked, having obtained another victory in their perpetual battle of wits. They scurried out the front door with Google Maps opened in one hand. They'd been to school a few times by now, but still needed instructions on how to get there -- their memory wasn't all that good.

The carnival was total sensory overload. Not really in a bad way. The colors made Bug's brain feel like mush and the noises were really, really loud. They jumped up and down a bit, not sure what to do first because everything looked super-duper neat. They brought 20 bucks with them, but had no idea what the price of anything was, but they had their Bingus t-shirt on, so it had to be a good day. Like, by law.

WEEEE

carnival

xxx

[/url]

none

nine lives

 

[ditto]

fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 9:14 AM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr

... chelsea freud ...

MOOD

here

LOCATION

the carnival

TAGS

donna (but I ain't tagging myself); mercedes Soap (sly, mason, and ren mentioned)

Chelsea Kader Freud did not want to leave his bed. Since he’d gotten home Friday evening, he’d been lying face down upon his made bed, head between two of his square, royal blue, silk throw pillows. Every time he considered getting up to get a drink or to urinate or defecate, the bitterness within him pushed to silence those thoughts.

He was in pain. Any motion that he made sent plumes of flame up his side. The doctor had postulated that he’d bruised one of his left ribs. No fucking way, doc. Never could’ve guessed that. He hadn’t been taking the painkillers that the doctor had given him for the aftermath of his nose procedure and to relieve the pain of his rib because he didn’t want to end up a druggie like Donna. When he’d looked yesterday morning, tempted to take them to get this whole fucking thing over with, he saw that he had substantially less than he should.

Great. Now his weird ass brother had yet another thing to take and yet another thing to drive his family one piece of blackmail closer to subservient to whoever got their hands on it. Maybe it would be slightly less humiliating than everyone knowing that his brother was fucking addicted to…

Nevermind. Thinking of Donna made him want to go jump off of a cliff. Point was that CK hadn’t left his bed since Friday, and he didn’t plan to.

But the alarm that he’d set on his phone for this time and this date three months ago had been going off then, though, and if he didn’t move and turn it off, then he’d have to bear with its fucking screeching until it died or something, so he’d pushed himself off of his bed, despite the crying in his lungs and the twitching in his chest, and he’d turned off his alarm.

Chelsea Kader Freud did not want to leave his room. There was something about leaving his room that felt so nearly ceremonious. If he walked out, he was announcing to the house and the world that he existed and that he was moving.

He felt like he was neither. He didn’t want to be either.

The abrasion along his right cheek looked disgusting. Every time he saw it, he felt rage burn within his chest, but he knew that the others who saw it just felt the sudden need to go vomit. It was large, red, and angry and spanned along his cheekbone and up towards his hairline. There were random dark spots in it that he hoped were normal.

Now, his whole house would have to see him.

He’d probably get even more pressing this morning from his parents, too.

But he had to come out of his room because he had to piss and eat.

What he’d expected, he’d gotten. His mother, the bitch, had tossed questions at him left and right.

“I’ve told you already,” he’d said with his tired voice as he’d searched for the box of Fruit Loops. “I just…fell.”

“Fell? You still expect me to buy that story, Cee?” His mother crossed her arms.

He noticed how deep her wrinkles looked this morning more than ever. The silver in her hair seemed more prominent, too. She was really growing to look like what she was: a witch.

He sighed softly. “I did just fall. I rode someone’s bike and fell off and scraped my face. That’s it.”

“…and broke your rib and broke your nose and sprained your pinky and burst the blood vessel in your eye and gave yourself a black eye?” she asked, walking over to get the Fruit Loops down for him.

He opened the box, sighing as he looked into it to see that the bag wasn’t in there. Donna couldn’t fucking throw away his trash, and now he’d gotten his hopes up. Here Chelsea was, thinking that he’d splurge on his strict, high-protein, high-health food diet, and now he couldn’t even fucking have that comfort.

Irritated, he cast the box into the trash can. “The blood vessel and the black eye were from Monday.”

“From you punching yourself. Right. How could I forget?” she scoffed. “Chelsea, I know you. Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he said, and from there, he’d simply refused to talk.

His mom was in a bitchier mood than usual, anyway. His father was away on business from Thursday to this coming Tuesday, so she was all alone and had no one to lie to her and tell her that she looked okay in whatever she was wearing. Poor thing.

He had gone to disappear back into his room when he had heard shuffling in Mercedes’ room.

And then, of course, he recalled what day it was.

Chelsea Kader Freud did not want to leave his house.

CK had caught Donna dressing for the day when he’d opened his door to demand to know if he was coming along with him to the carnival or going alone, and he’d’ve nearly been surprised if he weren’t so pissed at him right then.

He had shut the door behind himself and locked it.

Donna turned towards him, and then looked away from him wordlessly.

“Fucker, look at me,” he demanded.

Donna continued with what he was doing, pulling on an undershirt that actually looked clean. Almost impressive and commendable, if it wasn’t a normal fucking thing to do.

“Donna, fucking look at me.”

The other boy began to rifle through one of his drawers.

Chelsea stomped up to him, grabbing him by the back of his tank top to pull him away from the chest of drawers. “Did you hear me, Littledick? I said fucking look at me.”

“How’s your rib?” Donna asked, straining against Chelsea to continue about his business, not turning to face him.

When he said that, another shot of pain came up from it, and he hissed softly, setting his brows low and clenching his jaw. His elbow slipped around his brother’s neck, and he locked him in a chokehold. “Motherfucker!” he growled.

Donna didn’t flail or try to get free. He simply attempted to go about his business despite his air being cut off.

Chelsea let him go with a sharp huff and gave him enough of a shove that the other boy stumbled back, and he gripped the front of his tank. Now, finally, the two of them were eye to eye.

Donna’s lids were low, and his breath smelled just as revolting as ever. His eyes were wet and bloodshot.

He’d either been smoking or crying. Probably both.

“Where in the hell have my pills been going?” Chelsea demanded.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

He tightened his grip on his shirt. “I came in to ask if you are riding with me.”


“No. There’s your answer. Now you can leave.” Donna tried to pull away.

There were a few pops from DC’s tank as CK pulled him closer again. “No, Dopey, that’s not what I’m here for anymore. Tell me: where. Are. My. Pills. You. Insolent. Little. Bastard?”

“Not here anymore,” Donna said, and Chelsea’s grip loosened for a moment.

“What the fuck do you mean?”

DC pulled away. “Get out of my room.”

CK’s foot found the small of his brother’s back in a harsh kick. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“What I said. Now leave.”

Chelsea approached him again. “If you don’t—“

Donna turned to face him, his large eyes emotionless. “That’s all that I know, Chels. Now leave.”

CK stood for a moment. What the fuck could he do? He wasn’t going to tell him? Had he taken them all himself or something?

What was the point? If he was going to ruin himself, he was going to ruin himself. What was the fucking point of caring?

“Go off and die with a needle in your arm somewhere, bitchface,” Chelsea growled, stomping out of his brother’s room and slamming the door shut.

From there, he had went into his own room, shut the door, and stared at his reflection in his door mirror.

Chelsea Kader Freud sure as hell did not want to go to this fucking carnival.

Everyone at school had fucking seen him. All week, he’d gotten looks and prying questions from all of the miserable, snot-nosed brats at school. CK, did you punch yourself in the face this time, but harder? Hahaha. Comedic fucking geniuses they were. Let’s laugh at the guy who could beat our asses and floor us in seconds flat. Let’s take a piss at the bastard who owns the whole school because we’re so unsatisfied with our own puny lives that we’ve got to grasp at whatever low-hanging fruit there is so we can make ourselves feel better.

How many kids had he sent to the nurse this week? He’d lost count. He’d tallied four before lunch on Monday, but, after that, the numbers had begun to climb too fast. They were small injuries, really; the carrot-headed freshman during first period getting a welt to the back of the neck for saying that his nose looked as crooked as his dick did, that little sophomore in second period who’d gotten a small head slam to their desk and a similar treatment for her little friend who thought it was the funniest thing to threaten to tell the teacher, and the gentle thrust into the concrete wall for lanky incel senior guy for saying something like him looking like Two-Face or something weren’t very big injuries in the grand scheme of things. They all deserved them, too, so there was no reason for that.

His nose wasn’t even fucking crooked. He didn’t know what that freshman was getting on about. The doctor that Val had referred him had given him some kind of drug that’d made him numb to everything, and, when he’d come to again, he had a dressed up nose with half of a bandage roll keeping it in place and two fucking tampons up it. They weren’t literally tampons, but they basically were. If anyone that had insulted him had been clever in any sense of the word, they would have made a dig at that, not at how crooked it looked when it literally didn’t.

The carnival…what was the fucking point of even going? He didn’t have a girlfriend this year. Hughes— Rachel, that was her first name— and he had broken up last month, if he remembered correctly. She was a total bitch, and she’d whined about him talking to other girls, so their relationship hadn’t lasted long. Not like any of his relationships ever did, but theirs was one of the shortest, and he’d not moved on to the next thing yet. He really had gotten to the point of not caring to date. Why should he care? Dating was just an extended hookup with the added demand of paying money for affection and idle kissing. He wasn’t committed when he was in them, anyway, so there really was no point whatsoever. Besides, he never asked people out on dates, anyway— they always asked him— but the only people who had asked him this year were freshmen.

He saw no point in going this year, then. He looked dumb as hell, he was in pain, and he had no date.

But something in him still made him want to go. If he didn’t show up, then he’d be disgraced. Could the king of Auburn Springs not even show up to a damn event? Was he really going to let that Sly assface have his victory like that?

He could do it. He could go. Even if he didn’t fucking want to, he could.

So he was going. He was pulling on his maroon polo, rosey-lilac sweater, black slacks, and shined black shoes. He was shaving his face, brushing his hair, brushing his teeth, and applying deodorant. He was giving himself a pep talk in the mirror. He was going.

Thus, he went. He drove the whole way with Mercedes, and he pulled up in the parking lot, as one did. As soon as he’d stopped the car, Mercedes had bade him goodbye and rushed off, and he had been left sitting and staring at himself in the mirror.

Chelsea Kader Freud, the boy with a girl’s name, currently wearing a color very near pink, was fucking terrifying. His bloodshot eye, far from healed, glared back at him in his reflection. The dressing on his nose and the packing up it, though it rendered him unable to breathe from it, made him look tough. The shiner, the scratch along his left cheek, and his swollen pinky all helped to add to the image.

He was still the undisputed king.

No one could take that away from him— not Mason, not Ren, not Sly, not anyone— and anyone who tried to would just find their plans blowing back up in their face.

“Because I’m the fucking one,” he said to himself, and he stepped out of his vehicle and headed into the carnival.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[ditto]

fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 9:14 AM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr

... donna camus ...

MOOD

...here...

LOCATION

...the carnival...

TAGS

theo hery (mer and chelsea mentioned Soap )

DC Camus had had a peaceful week. Not too much had happened. He’d done the usual: skip class, smoke weed, but do so methodically so as not to get in trouble. Better yet, his brother locked himself in his room every evening when he came home from football practice— which he somehow was still allowed to attend. Donna could commend his long-suffering and his acting abilities; there was something to be said for good liars.

Then again, there was something to be had for consistency as well, and DC could say with certainty that his brother had none of that; exempli gratia, his brother lying and saying that he fell off of a bike to get those injuries.

For one, Chelsea couldn’t even ride a bike, as far as he knew— he used training wheels up until he was eleven, and then he had asked their father to buy him a Razor scooter— but, for two…just…no.

To be quite candid, Donna didn’t fully understand why his brother had been able to be taken down in the first place, especially by a guy with such a small comparative stature. Perhaps he was stronger than he looked. Regardless, Chels was built to last. There was a reason why Donna had stopped fighting back so long ago; there was no point, because Chelsea always won.

Except, apparently, for Saturday. By some glitch in the matrix, King Chelsea the Great got taken down by a Bridger. He could only imagine how much that had humiliated his bigoted brother’s fragile psyche. Not only had that happened, but he’d been dragged to a warehouse where who knew what had happened. It was almost comical.

Donna wished that he’d been there to see his brother’s downfall. It would have probably been a very euphoric feeling— seeing his brother falling to the ground, having his face pummeled in by someone who his brother swore was far below him, and then being dragged off and tied up. He couldn’t really fault the guys for doing it. He wished that he could do the same.

That didn’t mean, however, that he forgave them. After all, they’d taken Mercedes, too. That was something that couldn’t be forgiven.

Not that he could really do too much about that, though. Despite all of his hard work for football, he wasn’t the most…foreboding presence.

Now, though, he had no concerns. From the money that he’d earned with the bottles of painkillers that Chelsea had been given, he had more than twice what he’d had before— and where else to spend it but the carnival? Sure, the place was noisy, but it had a lot of food, and that was what he cared about.

Even Chelsea coming in to berate him in the middle of his dressing hadn’t turned him off from the fair. Then again, nothing that Chelsea ever did really scared him into thinking or doing anything, though he obviously thought that if he did it enough, it would work. What could he say, really, beyond the fact that, after one had one’s wrists broken by a guy over something so inconsequential as him thinking (falsely) that one stole his violin when one had one’s very own and had no such need to steal it, the impact of threats and the motives behind them all fell flat?

Besides, he had gone through all of the effort of putting on clean clothing and freshening up a bit today, so there was no need to let that go to waste. He'd opted for a white sweater beneath a burnt orange one and had tugged on some blue jeans.

He’d left the house a bit later than he should have, but he didn’t really mind. He sped the whole way, anyway, and he cared nothing for punctuality.

As he had been about to head out the door, his mother stopped him, grabbing his sleeve to get his attention.

“Yes?” he asked, looking down at her. He, at 6’2”, towered over her.

“Donna, do you know what’s going on with your brother?” She pursed her lips. She looked deeply concerned. “Do you have any idea what happened Saturday?”

“Do I…?” he repeated, and, with a soft sigh, he nodded. “Yes.”

“Can you tell me?”

Donna paused a long moment. He knew, so why shouldn’t he tell?

“He fell off of his bike,” he said, and he headed out the front door.

He flew down the road all the way to the carnival, his music turned all the way up, his bass boosted plus ten, a lit cigarette between his fingers. Brahms just hit different at that volume.

When he arrived, he parked the vehicle and tossed his cigarette butt from the window. As he stepped out, he noted, with a sigh, the length of the line.

Damn it. Waiting took too long.

He walked up to the line, not bothering to lock his car.

When he got settled in the long line, he noticed that the figure in front of him looked familiar. He down at him for a moment, studying him. The only name that came to mind was:

“Patrick. Long time no see. How is…Lewis, was that it?” Who was the boy with the weed? There was no way that it could have been Lewis. That didn't feel right.

“Silas,” he corrected.

Come to think of it, Patrick didn't particularly feel right, either.

He took another moment of pause, and then, with a soft ah, he remembered.

“Oh, yes, and your name is Theodore, like the chipmunk. I recall now. How have you been?” he asked.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[Winona]

fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 1:00 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr

Rory

INTERACTIONS

Ian, Zane, Link

MENTIONS

N/A

TAGS

ditto CryptDemon gh0stwriter

The carnival? Not something she had particularly planned on going to. Reasons? It was filled with Auburn Springs kids. There would be no alcohol. It was an event that was family friendly which meant kids. All of the games were rigged and too expensive. Really, did she even need to go on with her list of why it just wasn't the place to be?

No, no she did not. However, her reasoning -- rather, reasonings -- for coming were currently seated in the back seat. Zane and Ian. For whatever fucked up reason, they wanted to go to the fair... well, she knew why Ian wanted to go. To try and win a goldfish to put in the toilet which was just... Rory had gotten a headache while trying to argue with him over why it was such a bad idea.

Currently, the three Hansen siblings were in Linda's car. Their foster mother who had so kindly lent her car to Rory to drive. And Rory was paranoid that she was going to end up crashing the car or something on the way through the unfamiliar streets of Auburn Springs. Rory wasn't the greatest driver, and the last thing her and the twins needed was to be uprooted and placed in a different foster home because Rory totaled their foster parents' car. It wouldn't be the first time that had been their reason for being removed.

It didn't help that their journey took them through the unfamiliar streets of Auburn Springs. Rory wasn't the greatest driver normally, but her lead foot seemed heavier today after they crossed the bridge. She had put on her own seatbelt to keep her body from jerking around, but she knew that the boys hadn't -- it was made obvious after about the third slamming on the brake incident with them being tossed forward.

But the drive was going okay. They were making it there, and Zane and Ian were getting along for once. Everything was blissfully quiet, until she faintly heard Ian whispering something...

... And then all hell broke loose.

There was screaming. Yelling. Rory turned the center mirror down so that she could get a better look at the boys only to see Zane trying to choke Ian out. She let out a string of curses as she turned around in the seat and tried to keep the wheel steady with one hand while she reached back with her other hand to smack at Zane.

"Zane, let him the fuck go right now." She screeched, her nails digging into Zane's arm so she could yank him away. Rory almost completely forgot that she was currently in charge of maneuvering a four thousand pound metal death machine until she heard the blaring of a horn.

Rory had swerved into the wrong lane and now there was a car coming straight towards them. She let go of Zane, dropped back into her seat, and swerved back into the right lane just as the car zipped past them.

Her heart pounded in her chest and her hands were shaking from the adrenaline of the moment for a moment... until she suddenly just grew angry.

"Zane, I swear to god if you touch Ian again before we get there, I'll fucking drag you out of this car by your ear and kick your ass." Hell, Rory might do that anyway if the anger that burned through her veins didn't subside.

As luck would have it, the fair wasn't much farther. Rory pulled the car in and found a parking spot near the back where she put said vehicle into park and climbed out, locking it after her and the twins were free. She slipped the keys into her back pocket and then grabbed both Ian and Zane by the back of their shirts and turned them to face her before they could run off.

She kept a hand on each of their shoulders, her grip tightening as she stared at her not so little brothers anymore. Rory was still a couple inches taller than them, and she still had the whole older sister that could end you vibe, so she liked to think the twins were still scared of her. And, hopefully, they were done growing so she could always be taller.

"Remember the rules. No catching anything on fire, no stealing, no drinking, no drugs, and no," she turned her gaze directly onto Ian, "fish. No fish."

Would Rory be following any of those rules? More than likely no, but that was alright. Well, she'd be following one rule -- and that was no fish rule.

Rory released her grip on her brothers' shoulders and gave them a smile. Of course, her smile -- instead of being warm, friendly, or whatever a smile was supposed to be -- hinged more on being... dark, calculating, and with a certain amount of "test me, I know where you sleep and I will not hesitate to end you." You know, normal big sister smile.

"Now scram. I don't want to see either of your fucking faces until it's time to go." She ordered and waved a dismissive hand at them. Rory waited until they had walked off before she leaned back against Linda's car, her arms crossing over her chest. Her eyes fell closed for a moment and she sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.

Alright. She was ready.

Rory's eyes opened back up and she pushed away from the car and started to head towards the carnival but hesitated when she caught sight of someone that looked vaguely familiar. She stared at the guy for a moment, her eyebrows creasing together as she squinted at him, trying to figure out where she recognized him from--

Link.

A smile cracked across her features. She hadn't seen him in... Rory didn't even know. Too long. They'd been in the same foster home for a while and had become kind of close. Decent friends, until that foster home fell through and she was moved and after that? She'd never seen him again or bothered to reach out. Rory had kind of hoped that she'd run into him in a different foster home, but he'd never reared his ugly little head and eventually, he'd faded from her memory.

"Well, if it isn't Link." Rory called his name as she stepped away from her car to fall into step beside him to head towards the carnival. "Haven't seen you in fucking forever. Where the hell did you go?"

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[tamarapasek]

Ashley still wasn’t over the whole “bathtub incident”

What kind of idiot was she? She should have at least chosen a bedroom to stay in! And it didn’t even help Oliver with his freakout! Next time she had to remember to drink even more so she could connect with him.

Honestly she wished that the party had never happened. Her friends had been at odds ever since, and Oliver had kind of shut off. She knew he wasn’t mad at her, but it felt that way sometimes. If this didn’t end soon then she’d be the sole baby of the friend group.

(Idk what happened, I think there was a glitch, but most of my rp got deleted overnight. Basically Ashley’s in line at the Ferris wheel.)

Ashley Park

INTERACTIONS: Open

code by valen t.

 

[hery]

Theodore Virtanen

Ambridge

The party, as a whole, had been a bust. Theodore kicked himself for having allowed Silas to talk him into going against his better judgement. Between the coke and allowing Silas to step all over him, he felt like a failure, an idiot, and worst of all, an enabler. How could he just freeze up and stand while Silas demeaned Henri like that? He'd made the decision to break things off with his short-lived boyfriend(?) later in the night and had enlisted an acquaintance (Max, was it?) to take him home. It didn't take much deductive reasoning to come to the conclusion that Silas wouldn't take it well, however Theo couldn't get the image of the frightening look Silas had given him before his coked-up rampage out of his head. He was afraid of the boy and what it meant to get close with him. At the same time, he still felt a twinge of guilt for Silas and the emotional turmoil he was likely going through. If he deleted all of his social medias over all of Ambridge ganging up on him, who knows what he'd do if his favorite fuck buddy, as Silas so lovingly called Theo, cut ties with him?

Now, Theo was remorseful for stubbornly backing Silas for the sole reason that he was his favorite person at the time when, in reality, there may have been some truth to everyone else's warnings after all. However, Theo couldn't even bring himself to dislike Silas, as there was a part of him that knew the aggressive, unhinged Silas from Val's party wasn't all there was in his core. He wanted so desperately to be back on normal terms, to have maybe stopped Silas before he went too far, or to just be able to forget it all and run back to him. And he definitely had the option; there were at least a dozen unopened DMs from Silas in his inbox, just waiting to draw Theo back in. He held a firm resolve and skipped out on their weekly tutoring session for the first time in months. It was irresponsible to leave him no prior notice and would surely reflect poorly on his performance, but the last thing Theo wanted to do was face any of the people involved with his situation.

He had been spared the awkwardness of seeing Henri in person since the incident, which he was grateful for. To an extent. He very well could have gone the rest of the year without ever addressing it to Henri, but the festering guilt in the back of his head nagged him to make amends. It wasn't in Theodore's nature to apologize or admit defeat; just attempting to apologize on Silas' behalf took a great amount of courage. The shame of knowing he was complicit and even somehow indirectly encouraged the boy's behavior hung over his head all week.

He knew he'd have to apologize to most of the Bridgers, namely Dani, Ren, and Ryan, for the way he acted as well, which was even bigger of a struggle. Ryan mostly pissed him off after his interactions with Silas, but even with Silas out of the equation, the dark-haired senior still got on his nerves. It wasn't fair to him, but it was a lot to ask of Theo to turn a new leaf in a day. Even if he'd lost all the fight in him, Theo was still stubborn at heart.

The week following the party had been calm. Awkward, but calm. Theo maintained his typical indifferent demeanor, however he was riddled with anxiety nearly every moment he he was at school. Other than that, though, nothing out of the ordinary.

In fact, the only abnormal thing Theo had done was commit to going to the carnival. Surely there was some work to be done around there, right? He hadn't signed up for anything in advance, but maybe if he approached a booth and asked for a volunteer position, they'd let him, right? Something about working a fair booth seemed much more appealing than working behind a deli counter, although chances were there were hardly any differences...right? Theo felt a little satisfied knowing his resume probably left him leagues more qualified than most of the student workers at the carnival that night anyway.

The bus ride to the carnival was slated to be the most enjoyable experience of the night. Theo relished his solitude, so attending a high school party and going to the carnival on his own was rather bold. But, hey, everyone copes with stress differently, right?

Actually, standing in line wasn't half-bad either. There didn't seem to be anyone he knew in sight and he got to waste time he'd otherwise spend looking for things to do just standing around. After all, every moment was an opportunity for Silas or Ryan or Henri to creep up on him and make him feel bad. That was, of course, until someone approached him from behind.

DC? The guy from the tour? He wasn't on Theo's lengthy deserves-an-apology list, so, honestly, that was a win, although disrupting a school tour and nearly screwing in front of him wasn't the most couth introduction he deserved. But offering a threesome isn't a war crime, right? Any rationalization of that mess was enough for Theo, considering he had at least a dozen others to apologize to already.

"Hello, Donna. You think I am a chipmunk?" he replied dubiously, appearing more puzzled than offended. The greeting was less than pleasant, considering Donna had already brought up Silas and managed to screw up their names... again. "I am not sure what kind of idiom you are referring to, but yes, I am fine."

The elephant in the room was killing Theo. How could he politely answer his question about Silas without sounding like a wreck and a drama queen? The blonde boy opened his mouth, hesitated, then continued speaking, "I have not talked to Silas in a few days... he is in a bit of a predicament." His eyes widened immediately once he realized how ominous that sounded. "There is no cause for alarm, of course! However, I am not sure if and when he will talk to you, so I just wanted to... ahem..." Sigh. There's no way out of it. "... apologize for our unprofessional conduct last Monday."

Theo was beginning to blush. His temporary vulnerability converted back into his defensive state. "Ahhh, so...eheheh... anyway, how have you been, Mr. DC? You have been keeping up with grades? Smoking marijuana as well?"

carnival ticket line

smooth

clothes

ditto (Donna)

coded by natasha.

 

[Winona]

fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 1:00 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr

Xander

INTERACTIONS

Nut, Oliver, Darwin

MENTIONS

N/A

TAGS

ditto Twin Fantasy Chimney Swift

This morning, Xander had planned out his entire day. Er... kind of. He had planned to go to the carnival, maybe buy some food, eat the food, maybe go on a couple rides, partake in a couple games. You know, all that fun stuff that one participated in at a carnival for the day. It would be fun! Grand! Exciting! And it would entertain him until the sun started to fall.

And after the sun was down, Xander had plans for the night. Those plans consisted of cans of spray paint haphazardly tossed into the backpack that he now wore as he wove his way through the carnival grounds. Well, not really carnival grounds. It was the empty field beside Auburn Springs High that had been set up for the sake of this little fundraiser. A fundraiser for the rebuilding of Ambridge High -- which meant that, well, spending about two hundred dollars (probably more, but Xander really hadn't counted the money before he'd handed it over to the Bridger boy) on the pan of brownies in his arms was for charity.

He was going to get high for a good cause.

However, Xander really couldn't eat the entire pan all by himself, so he came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the carnival, a frown on his face as he tried to decide where to go. Who to talk to in order to share the enormous tray of brownies. His dark gaze shifted across the fellow carnival-goers, looking for someone who looked--

Was that...

The Nut to his Harry?

It WAS. Katee Nausbum or something like that. Nutbutt. Xander let out a little snort of laughter at the joke in his head, and then he was powerwalking over to Nutty boy and the other two guys with him -- two guys that Xan didn't recognize, but hey! Unrecognizable strangers were just friends in the making. Unless they smelled like weed, drove a van, and offered you candy. In which case, they were a time to run as far as possible type of stranger.

"Nutty!" He yelled as he approached, coming to a stop in front of the three guys. Xander grinned at all of them and shifted the tray of brownies into his left arm so he could hold out his right hand for any of them to shake. Look, he didn't know how much these guys were on a scale of touchy but handshakes were polite or whatever. "Hi I'm Harris. Xander Harris. You can call me Xander or Xan, or I guess I'd probably respond to like... 'hey dumbass.' I've also heard 'punk' but can't say that's particularly creative."

Xander then shifted the brownies back so he was holding onto the tray with both hands and held it out to the boys in front of him. "You all hungry? I just bought this whole tray of brownies from that Bridger guy and there's no way I'm gonna be able to eat all of these without getting sick." He said with a laugh.

Did Xan leave out the fact that they were pot brownies? Yes, but look, he had said he bought them from that Bridger boy. So he assumed that the boys would know that they were pot brownies.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[ditto]

fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 9:14 AM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr

... katee nausbaum ...

MOOD

carnival! food! yay!

LOCATION

carnival!

TAGS

oliver Chimney Swift darwin Twin Fantasy xan Winona

Katee somehow hadn’t made it to the party last weekend. As his mother had said when he’d returned home to her drunk and naked on the couch, he was “an impressive dumbass”. He knew he wasn’t the smartest, but it was times like these that made him realize that he might have also been one of the dumbest, because he’d somehow gotten lost between his house and the bus stop that he always walked to, and then he’d run around like a chicken with its head cut off in a panic, tears streaming, and ended up having to take two breaths from his inhaler. The number on the back of the beige contraption was down to 014 uses. He’d have to ask his mother to buy him another one soon, but he didn’t want to have to hear the same, dull waste of space speech that he’d gotten a million times before. Every time, she said the same thing, and it wasn’t like it wasn’t true or anything, but it just got bland and didn’t have the same effect— even the if you go off and die from your damn asthma, then I’d chalk it up to a favor didn’t make him get choked up anymore.

Nobody had wanted him at the party, so he guessed that he wasn’t too upset. Jade had told him to stay away, because no one wanted the snitch, and he was sure that that feeling was shared by a lot of the others. At least he’d avoided getting his jaw boxed like he’d gotten at the last party he’d attended, he guessed, but he still felt like he’d missed out. He didn’t drink, and he didn’t like to be around drunk people because they always puked or cried or started to try to fight him or did fight him and give him another injury that he had to hide from his mother. He didn’t smoke, and he didn’t like to be around high people because the smell of them made him want to vomit. He didn’t do lines of coke or ketamine or do tabs of acid or swallow strange substances or shoot up whatever was in weird needles. He kinda just stood at parties, walked up to drunk people and told them how bad what they were doing was, and go up and spill people’s secrets. Seemed like that was his schtick— finding out what he didn’t need to know and accidentally letting the world know.

That was cool, though. People knew him, at least, even if it was as Nut the Rat.

Hehe. Rat Nut. Nut Rat. Nat.

Nat.

He’d seen her at school this week, too— oh, and last week. Natalie was her full name, and he didn’t know her last name, but she was very pretty. Sure, she didn’t really seem like she wanted him around— he was oblivious to that— but she was pretty enough that he didn’t care. Anything that she asked him to do, he did, except for leave, because he knew that she was kidding about that.

School this week hadn’t really been super peaceful. He’d asked the big burly Ken guy with the messed up face a question about his nose, and then he’d gotten thrown into the wall, but when he’d rattled to the nurse, she had said something about looking into it, so he was sure that something would come of that. Anyway, he had a bruise on his chin from that, and it was really sore— like, every time that he pressed it, it hurt really bad, and he couldn’t stop touching it. His mom hadn’t asked about that one— though it was more that he hadn’t seen anything except for her back since he’d seen her on the couch after getting home— and he wasn’t going to tell her, because she never cared, anyway. He had yet to let her know about losing his bag, either. He wasn’t ready to go without eating for the next bit.

Anyway, he didn’t have to worry about that. He’d managed to scour around the laundry room his room for enough pennies, nickels, dimes, and crumpled, balled up dollar bills for twenty bucks, and he had shoved that in his pockets, so now, he was ready for the carnival.

Kate always liked carnivals. He’d never been to one, but he’d always liked them. He just knew that they had food, and that meant that they were automatically fun. Plus, Oliver was going to be there, and he was his friend, so that was cool, too.

Once he’d gotten inside, Oliver found him quickly, and he greeted him with the same “Oliver!” and a wide smile.

Wow! Things were already going great. He could smell the food from here, and his stomach let out a growl. He hadn’t eaten since Friday’s lunch, and he was starving.

There was also this other person— guy? Girl? He wasn’t really sure— just another person. He was good with names and faces, so he remembered that their name was Darwin from the couple of times that he’d checked Twitter.

And then, he heard an unfamiliar voice:

"Nutty!"

Katee perked up, looking in the direction of a voice, and his grin widened with a happy laugh. “Hey!” he called back. He enthusiastically grabbed the other boy’s hand. “Yeah, you’re Xan!” he responded to his introduction. “Nut!” he said happily as his own introduction. “Katee. Nut, though!”

His eyes went to the tray of brownies, and his eyes lit up. “You brought food?” he asked, grabbing one in each hand and shoving half of one in his mouth. “Mm! Brownies!” They tasted very good. “Compliments to the zoo chef!” He meant sous.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[ditto]

fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 9:14 AM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr

... angeline jumper ...

MOOD

carnival time, fun time

LOCATION

the carnival

TAGS

coda mentioned

Angeline Jumper’d had a heavenly weekend. The party had landed her a hot moment with the new boy that had left her feeling satisfied all night long. With the addition of booze and a couple of other boys’ lips on various parts of her upper body, the night had only gotten better, and, though she was ridden with marks that her lovers had left her, she wore them with pride and a small smirk. After all, they’d all clamored for her, and they’d been willing to whatever just for a taste of her— which she’d allowed, but she hadn’t let them have her the same way that she’d allowed Ruddy. Sex on a pool table was probably the peak of the night, and she didn’t want to have any more if she knew that it wouldn’t live up to the level that they’d achieved.

Plus, her butt and much of her back had green fuzz stuck to it, which would have required a bit of an explanation, and the doggies wouldn’t’ve liked her I got better dick than you could ever give on a pool table chat, most likely. Then again, she’d had their leashes wrapped around her little finger, so they might have stuck around afterwards. She just didn’t see much point. She liked them getting handsy and vying for attention that she had already given another boy and letting them think that they were going to be the first ones on the list. It was cute.

She’d had to pull on a long-sleeved turtleneck when she’d gotten home. One of the piddle babies had left a hickey on her effing wrist, which was so funny to her that she took a photo of it and sent it to Val. It was so dumb, but she was probably distracted when it had happened. Every time she glanced down at the area where it was, she caught herself laughing. The turtleneck’s sleeves were just long enough to cover up that oddly-placed hickey, as well as the others that riddled her neck and back. She could differentiate between Coda’s and the others, mostly because of how nice it felt to recall the memory of him placing them.

It was a good thing that Angie found herself wearing sweaters often, because her mother didn’t question why she’d been wearing them all week— even to bed. Besides, it was chilly outside. She could excuse it away as that.

She smirked at her reflection with her glossed, eyeing today’s choice in sweaters. The woolen sweater was a periwinkle, and she’d tugged on some tight blue jeans to accompany it. She looked hot, as always, and she was ready to get out and about.

Today was the carnival, which she attended because it sounded fun. Perhaps she’d see Val or another friend there, or perhaps she wouldn’t. Either way, Angie made her own fun if she couldn’t find any, and she really had nothing better to do in her spare time, so she was going.

She called a goodbye to her mother and headed out of the door, keys in hand. All the way, she hummed along to the latest song on the radio— though she didn’t know any of the words to the songs and hummed off-key.

She stepped out of her vehicle after parking it in the lot, and she made her way inside of the carnival with a smirk on her face.

Well, well, well. She’d arrived. What now? She’d find that out as she went.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[Chimney Swift]

MOOD: Suspicious
location: The Carnival
❛ interaction ❜ Xander Winona , Katee ditto , Darwin Twin Fantasy

✦ OLIVER DREYFUSS ✦

Katee's warm, chipper personality was always Oliver's favorite thing about his friend. For once, Oliver seemed to soften, his shoulders untensing in spite of himself. With a friend, the carnival might not be so bad. It could even be fun... perhaps. If Katee could take the pain away from P.E, he could bring a little light to this brutally overwhelming mess.

He stayed tightly to Nut's left side to avoid getting too close to Darwin, who he kept glancing up at as if studying him for something. The kind of icy, calculating look of suspicion one would give to a wild animal. Darwin seemed to look at him the same way, somehow. Oliver knew only two things about Darwin: the first being that he was a poet, and the second being that he didn't know anyone. Darwin lived in Ambridge, but he wasn't from Ambridge. Oliver didn't know what to make of him yet. Maybe he'd never fully decide.

The youngest of the boys was bent forward a bit, shrinking himself down even smaller than he already was. The pale cold fingers of his right hand pulled and twisted at his hair, his left hand-- still broken and bandaged, though the bruises had faded-- stayed folded defensively to his chest. He said nothing, which wasn't unusual by this point in the week. His silence had come come to be expected.

Just as Oliver was beginning to worry that not one of them knew where to start with this accursed fair, another boy strode up, yelling "Nutty!" So loudly and unexpectedly that Oliver nearly lost his balance flinging himself back. The boy, whose mischievous face and overly buoyant mannerisms Oliver didn't recognize and wouldn't have approached with a 10 foot pole under any other circumstances... who the hell was this?

But he knew Nut... That was one reason to trust him, at least. Besides, he was carrying a whole tray of brownies and though weird, he seemed friendly enough. Out if all the people at this carnival (and there were FAR too many), this guy was probably not even in the top 10 on the list of people Oliver was worried would crack his skull. Maybe not not on the list, but not high up enough on it that Oliver was willing to abandon his friend and run home.

"Xan" shifted his tray and offered a handshake to the group. Oliver stared at the outstretched hand, as if wholly unfamiliar with the gesture. Then, with a curt nod, he straightened up and said flatly "you have a Hitchhiker's Thumb." No handshake, no 'hello, I'm Oliver, nice to meet you'. No nothing.

It was the first time Oliver had spoken since Thursday

Offered a brownie, Oliver at first only looked away, nervous about taking food from a stranger. Nut gladly took the snack, which did not surprise Oliver at all because Nut was about as cautious and skeptical as a puppy dog. But then a sharp pang of hunger had him reconsidering. He hadn't noticed until now, but he was painfully hungry. How long had it even been? A day? Two? What even was the last thing he ate? Suddenly he felt very uncomfortably conscious of how spaced out and forgetful he'd been. His usual sharp memory and meticulous nature had slipped away from him. He didn't know who he was anymore.

With a stammering and hesitant "...yes, please." he shyly held out his hand for a brownie.

code by valen t.