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Fandom Divergent: Faction Before Blood // RP Thread

Sanctuaryforall1

Pyrrha Nikos Lives On














Bloom




Mood: Determined

Location: Spartan Bar

Interactions: Open, Mentions Charlie






Her history with Musket was well layered with many twists and turns, heartache and triumphs. Bloom herself had never been a member of the Spartans but she had helped them from time to time. Starting practically right after her initiation Bloom had somehow fell into an unlikely friendship with the group. While walking home from one of her first jobs as a full member of Dauntless one night Bloom came across a young man who was clearly not in great shape as he stumbled down the road. The kid looked almost old enough to start his own initiation and Bloom figured he would likely be part of the next round of initiates. As she passed him on the street she noticed that he was swaying as he walked, not uncommon in the late hours when many had been drinking, but upon closer inspection she saw how pale his mostly hidden face was. It didn’t take a genius to recognize the signs of blood loss and so in an instant Bloom had the young man leaning against her and was trying to take him to a hospital but he fought her every step of the way. Finally she got him to agree to let her at least take him to her apartment where she could try tending to him there and he agreed so long as she didn’t call the police. Luckily for the kid Bloom had some level of medical training from her youth in Amity as well as skills she picked up during initiation. By the will of whatever god, goddess, or otherworldly being that was watching the brunette had managed to save the life of the young man who she later learned was Monty Grip the grandson of Musket Grip who was and still is leader of the Spartans.

After that Monty seemed attached to Bloom. He showed up at random times, when he was hurt, when he missed her, when he needed to lay low. She didn’t mind because at that point Dauntless was still a place that lacked certain human connections for her. She had done incredibly well during her initiation and made great friendships that unfortunately disappeared in the end when Delilah perished in the Chasm and Ace left the faction. She still had Ronnie but she knew she couldn’t depend on her alone as a life line in this new world before her so when Monty kept coming back and began bringing friends Bloom decided to embrace it. She would give them a place to lay low, take care of their wounds, even cook them a good meal so long as they remembered their manners. Eventually when Bloom began her bartending job and was getting out later and later into the night Monty and his friends would start to show up and walk her home. She wanted to believe that she didn’t need the protection but was appreciative of it none the less because it meant that she mattered to them as much as they mattered to her.

One night when Bloom was finishing up her shift and on her way out through the back she ran into Musket rather than Monty. She hadn’t realized who he was at first but she recognized the Spartan symbol on his jacket and knew he must know the kids somehow. Musket told her he would walk her home and he did just that, they talked, they walked, they even made each other laugh a few times. When Bloom got to her front door she invited Musket in for coffee but the old man told her that he wouldn’t that night but maybe next time. It honestly took Bloom an embarrassing amount of time to realize she was becoming fast friends with the leader of the gang. That of course was only the beginning of their story and all that has happened in between has led to the position Bloom now found herself in. She hated coming to Musket for anything self-serving when she knew he was busy enough with his own affairs and keeping his house in order but during times like these she felt it might be okay for her to ask for a few favors. Musket was like family to her at this point. She had never been part of his gang but she had been a helpful outsider who had managed to earn enough credit with the members to be treated as one of their own, to be part of the family. Now as Bloom sat in Musket’s office she found herself pouring out her concerns for Finn, her fears about what might have happened to him and her need to try and find him. Musket listened carefully to her words and nodded slowly ever few heartbeats to show he was taking in all she said. In the end he agreed to send out several of his group to search the streets and the less savory sections of the city for the young man. Bloom was relieved to hear his willingness to help her find the missing initiate and for a moment she considered asking an ever bigger favor, for Musket and his group to help her keep an eye on Charlie, Aubrey, and Sasha. She knew it might be a terrible idea, that Charlie might hate her for it, but Bloom knew that if she asked Musket he would find a way to keep an eye on the three of them and provide some level of protection. Her gut told her she should ask Charlie about it first.





code by Stardust Galaxy
 

Windfall

eggo waffle
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
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Ghost // Male // Age 18 // Officially Unemployed // Erudite to Dauntless

“I could say likewise,” Ghost said, eager to return Cassidy’s compliment about his choice of weaponry. He wore the charming kind of smile that belonged on a storybook prince. “Instead I’ll tell you to make sure you don’t impale yourself on that dual blade, dangerous girl.” Careful not to say to whom Cassidy would be a danger, his smile grew points and turned feral. Ghost was enjoying his brash and taunting exchange with Cassidy, but clearly her patience for it had waned. Instead of replying in turn, her eyes quickly scanned his stance for openings, and then she was bolting forward in the time between one heartbeat and the next.
She dashed at him headlong, which, given even his marginal height and weight advantage, was not a good idea. But Ghost always played strategy games with the expectation that his opponent would make the optimal move, and sparring was no exception. He suspected that Cassidy would alter her attack at the last moment, complicate it with something sneaky. But how soon Ghost would be able to read her ulterior motive depended on her level of skill. According to his prediction, Cassidy materialized on Ghost’s glove side with the grace of painted light. Before he had much time to marvel at the fluidity of her transition, she took an experimental swipe with her knife, suddenly too close quarters for Ghost to dodge. He never would have dared to use the glove as a blocker if the knife had a real blade, but short on options and knowing that the weapon was a practice one, he raised the glove to chin level. It was a sloppy block, and the momentum of Cassidy’s strike caused the glove to bounce toward Ghost’s face, but it succeeded in deflecting the blade.
As Cassidy danced out of range, he flashed his eyes toward her face, hoping to read the expression there. But Cassidy’s features were schooled into marble stoicism. If she was disappointed that her attack had failed, she didn’t show it. Which likely meant that she hadn’t invested the full scope of her abilities into it. She skipped lightly from foot to foot, like a boxer eager to put on a show for her audience, or a peacock displaying its plumage. Aware that he might be outmatched, Ghost smiled in spite of himself, enjoying Cassidy’s spirit. Oh, this was going to be fun. “You move very prettily, but do you actually know how to use those weapons? I wonder,” he teased, not meaning any malice by it but hoping to rile a reaction out of Cassidy all the same.
This time, instead of waiting for her, Ghost advanced an attack of his own, tying up Cassidy’s knife with his own as he batted at her with his glove. She brushed it aside with her glove. Her block looked much more polished than his had been, and when Ghost jabbed at her again from a different angle, he was met with the same result. Clearly she was practiced at using the glove as a defensive tool, which piqued Ghost’s interest. That was different. Fighters almost always used the glove as an offensive weapon, one for finding soft flesh and bloodying noses. But if Ghost could ascertain that Cassidy routinely used the glove for blocking and the knife for attacks, he could use that knowledge against her to make her attacks more predictable.
Eager to test his theory, Ghost moved his glove out of the way and left a narrow opening on his right side. Not big enough to arouse suspicion, but an error that could have been made out of carelessness. If Cassidy chose to take it, she would have to launch a cross-body attack with her knife, which would be timelier than simply using her glove to punch. Predictably, Cassidy took the bait, and Ghost used the opportunity to scoop his knife in a low, powerful thrust that should have gutted Cassidy clean through the stomach. But what he couldn’t have predicted was the speed of her counterattack. With surprising strength, Cassidy turned on a forty-five degree angle so that Ghost’s knife missed her by a fingerbreadth. Then she rammed her shoulder into his chest, knocking him off balance. As he stumbled for balance, her knife flickered like white lightning into his side. Shock and pain ripped through him in equal parts, but Ghost knew the pain would have been much greater had the weapon been actually sharp. It felt strange to have been impaled in the side with a knife and there not be a drop of blood to show.
“I was really hoping you’d do that,” Ghost said, smoothing his clothes down while he was still out of range. Although she could have attacked, Cassidy had respectfully remained where she’d been standing at the time of the previous hit, as if to allow Ghost time to recover. “Now I won’t feel so bad about what I’m about to do. My apologies in advance.” His eyes crinkled into a smile that lasted only half a second before he exploded into motion. Whirling his knife to disguise his intention, he darted toward Cassidy low and fast, feigned a blow toward her knife side, but at the last moment crumpled into himself and hit the floor in a ball. Ghost rolled in a somersault, infinitely more reckless toward the possibility of cutting himself with the fake knife than he would have been with a real one, and came up on one knee behind Cassidy. Not wanting to cause her unnecessary pain, he tapped her lightly on her calf with the flat of his blade, twice, as if to chastise her for letting her guard down. Cassidy spun quickly, and Ghost squeaked as her blade came flying toward his face, flattening himself on the floor as a current of wind parted his hair. Before she could get in a second strike, he rolled to the side and clumsily scrambled to his feet, eyes dancing with mischief at his unorthodox tactic.
Now that the fight had begun in earnest, they circled each other like alpha wolves, daring the other to strike first. A dull throbbing arced up Ghost’s side, a phantom reminder that Cassidy was not an opponent to be underestimated. Whereas Cassidy had been gloating and irreverent at the start of the fight, now her mocha eyes formed angular slits, giving her a decidedly feline look. She waded in cautiously, knife first, sweeping with the weapon to keep Ghost at bay. He parried one of the strikes with his knife, turning Cassidy’s blade aside, and seized upon the opening to whip his left leg around in a roundhouse kick, aiming to snap the top of his foot around the back of Cassidy’s neck and jerk forward. It was a move he’d learned from Randi the hard way. But Cassidy was quick to block, throwing up both her forearms to catch the blow. She retaliated with a quick cut to the exposed outside of Ghost’s thigh. A flinch traveled along his whole body, causing him to very nearly drop his knife.
Sensing an opportunity, Cassidy tried to go back for seconds while Ghost was recovering, stabbing out in a quick, straight thrust like the very first time she had hit him. Knowing that it would be a deadly combo if she landed it, Ghost sidestepped the blow and lashed out with one hand. He was mildly surprised when his attempt to catch Cassidy’s wrist was successful. So was Cassidy, apparently. She pitched forward when he tugged, and Ghost threw everything he had into his subsequent strike. He twisted from the hips as he raised his knee, flinging one arm out for power and raising the other to eye level, not wanting to leave his head exposed if Cassidy had any tricks up her sleeve. With a dark glimmer of satisfaction, his knee sank into the soft part of Cassidy’s stomach, and Ghost watched those catlike eyes flare wide. Cassidy doubled over, and just as she had done before, Ghost backed off, allowing her ample time to compose herself. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said with a casual wave of his hand, hoping his smiling jackassery was enough to disguise the pain from the cut to his thigh. The force of impact from kneeing Cassidy had only aggravated it. “If you thought I wouldn’t hit a woman, I’m sad to say that you gravely overestimated my character.”
Something had become apparent to Ghost throughout their fight. Despite the big game he liked to talk, he wasn’t a particularly seasoned fighter and still had much learning to do. Nonetheless, it was remarkable that Cassidy had managed to keep pace with him, an instructor and retired street rat, trading blow for blow without fail. Either she was a profoundly gifted learner to have absorbed so many fighting tactics from just Phase One of initiation, or she’d had some prior training before initiation.
As they resumed fighting, a fire now burning in Cassidy’s eyes, Ghost thought of asking her where she had trained. And he would have, if breathing weren’t such an ordeal. Cassidy’s face shone with sweat, and from the way that his lungs starved for air, Ghost knew that he looked no better. Exertion weighed down his muscles, and he was endlessly grateful that the heaviest weapon he wielded was a knife, but even raising that was becoming a struggle. Cassidy managed to cut his other leg. He landed another shot to her shoulder. The welts forming on his legs made him rely on kicks and knees less and focus more on using the knife, which he was loath to do because he was starting to suspect that Cassidy’s skill with a knife outmatched his. Which fortified his suspicion that she had indeed received some kind of martial education before transferring to Dauntless. That, or perhaps her childhood had been just as unique as Ghost’s.
The training room doors groaned as they opened, the latch clicking shut just as fast. Keeping one eye on Cassidy, Ghost snuck a glance at the new entrant—but there was none. Instead, he caught a glimpse of canary hair just as Randi vanished into the hall outside. She had left fast and without a word to anyone. Questions reared up inside of Ghost, quickly followed by concern and guilt. He had come to the training arena to hang out with her, after all. Why was she leaving so suddenly? Was his fight with Cassidy taking too long? Could she be jealous that he wasn’t giving her enough atten—
A dark blur caught his eye. Cassidy had dropped to the floor and somersaulted toward him, swinging her legs in an attempt to sweep his. Stupidly, Ghost tried to back up rather than jump the obstacle, but he wasn’t fast enough. He yelped as he fell backward against the floor and wasn’t sure which astonished him more: the speed at which the air left his lungs, or the pain that radiated up his elbow when he smacked it against the mat. Ghost raised his head with some difficulty. The world spun around him, but still he placed his palms against the floor and prepared to stand. He sucked in a breath to speak. “Using my own tactics against me, are—?” A knife appeared at his throat before he finished his sentence. Cassidy crouched beside him, her hair tousled and damp with sweat, blade gleaming milky silver in the light. For a second, the only sound in the training arena was the hum of electricity and both combatants’ labored breathing.
Seeing that he’d been beaten, Ghost’s face broke into a good-natured smile. “Well fought, initiate. But may I make a suggestion?” Before Cassidy could either agree or refuse, he locked his legs around Cassidy’s crouching form and jerked her forward, so that she collapsed with a small squeal on top of his chest. Beneath her weight, the back of Ghost’s head thudded against the mat, sandwiching him between Cassidy and the floor. Her limbs flailed in a panicked scramble until she felt the tip of Ghost’s knife prick her in the side, and she stilled just as he had moments ago. “Never consider the fight over until your opponent is dead,” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper. Her hair tickled his face. “It doesn’t matter how good a fighter you are if you don’t have the guts to do what’s necessary. Compassion is a good thing, Cassidy. Softness is not. Which are you?” At such close range, he breathed her scent, a fragrance like old books and cologne. Ghost let his knife fall to the mat and smiled again, but this time through obvious pain. “Now get off me, please, before you crack my sternum.”
Cassidy rolled her eyes, raising the valid point that they were in this position because of Ghost’s doing, but complied. Pins and needles shivered up Ghost’s forearms and into his fingers as he tried to sit up, threatening to collapse when he put weight on them. He gathered his legs to stand, but the fight had truly winded him, or maybe it was the drugs still wearing off. Or just general clumsiness. But for whatever reason, he fumbled trying to get to his feet. Cassidy smiled as she watched, but he didn’t think it was out of cruelty. She extended a hand, which Ghost accepted, laughing at his own ineptitude. “Thank you, ma’am. It was a pleasure being your opponent today. I’d love to chat further, but our mutual friend has disappeared, and I want to catch up with her. Hopefully sometime we can spar again and you can tell me where and for how long you trained?” The words were a question but the intonation was a statement. Not giving Cassidy any room to object, he shot her a knowing wink and headed toward the training arena doors at a brisk walk, phone already in hand. His thumbs worked furiously as he sent Randi a text. Hey, where did you go? said the first one. Followed up by: Mind if I tag along? Sorry that my sparring sesh took so long.
 
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Sanctuaryforall1

Pyrrha Nikos Lives On














Thorn




Mood: Struggle

Location: River

Interactions: Charlie






She was there, he hadn’t missed her, Charlie had waited for him and Thorn found he was truly grateful for it. He would have eaten himself alive if he had missed her and made her think he didn’t care about her and didn’t want to see her. As much as he wanted to avoid having to put his feelings and his trauma into words he would never let that keep him from showing up when Charlie asked him to. He had learned all too well that the next moments were not promised, that a person could vanish in the blink of an eye, so he would not waste time that could be spent with someone he cares for and who cares for him. That didn’t mean it was easy though, seeing Charlie in her pretty pink dress with the lovely picnic spread out around her, it gave him pause. He hesitated to sit down beside her, to look her in the eyes, to move so much as a muscle. He wasn’t the same person he was a week ago or maybe he was and that was even worse. He had lost his mother which just about destroyed him and in the height of his grief he had almost killed his father. Did Charlie know that? He doubted it. When he did muster the strength to meet her eyes she didn’t seem to be afraid of him. Surely if she knew what he had done she wouldn’t have any desire to be within ten feet of him. The both of them had little love for violence but now Thorn knew just how violent he could be when he lost himself to his emotions and he hated it and worried Charlie would hate it too.

Her soft voice finally managed to pull his gaze away from a small beetle on a nearby rock and back towards her brown gaze. The way the sun hit her irises made it look like he was staring into shining brown zircon, the light highlighting the slight golden tints within the brown. Thorn wanted to feel comfort in that gaze but couldn’t allow himself to. Charlie deserved so much more than the horrible hand she had been dealt and now Thorn had made it worse rather than better with the events of last weekend and still she wanted to help him, to hear him. It was a lot for the young man to war with himself on and for a long silent moment he worried he would do the wrong thing if he chose not to speak or say the wrong thing the moment his mouth opened. One last look into her puppy like eyes sealed the deal for him though and he knew no matter what he would always do his best to make her happy because Charlie truly deserved it.

“It’s nice up here.” He said at last, clearly not ready to talk about what happened but doing his best to give her something to work with. “The stones are large and flat, warm too.” He continued awkwardly trying to make conversation and complement her choice of picnic grounds. “I like the view as well, it feels like one of the few places to enjoy nature in the Dauntless complex.” The young freckled boy added with a nod towards the water that lapped at smaller rocked a few feet ahead of them. He did truly appreciate the natural beauty of the stones the sat on, along with the view that had from them. Initially he had been worried that Charlie might hurt herself trying to get up the round sides but she had been as graceful as ever and had not rejected his help when he offered it. Carefully he picked up a strawberry and turned it in his fingers a few times, taking in the vibrant red fruit before taking a bite. “Thank you for the picnic, I hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle.” His voice didn’t shake which surprised him because the more he spoke the more grounded in reality he felt. It seemed that even if he did not speak about the fire and his mothers death that speaking around it could be just as painful. He didn’t want to dwell on it, didn’t want to make it real with words, but putting effort into avoiding it as conversation seemed to hurt just as much. “I…I’m sorry Charlie…” He began after a moment of silence and trying to figure out what to do or say next. “I’m trying…I really am…I just…” He found himself struggling the moment he started each new sentence or set of words. It felt like there was a dam within him and that each time he spoke a new hole was punched in it. He feared what would happen if the dam broke but each time he looked at Charlie or glanced in her direction he feared what would happen if he never let the emotions within him out as well. Emotions could eat a person alive if they weren’t dealt with properly and Thorn knew Charlie had enough on her plate already. She shouldn’t have to worry about him, his pain, his trauma, his emotional health. She had said it wasn’t a burden but he knew that with all she already had to face and fear that worrying for him wouldn’t help one bit.

Nerdy. Nerdy.
 

fraxiom

monkeying around
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
INITIATE
location
spartan bar.
mood
content.
outfit
dusty pink hoodie, dark blue jeans.
mentions
bloom.
orin daithi gorman.
Orin had been warned about his initiation. He'd been warned in countless ways, countless times, by countless people, and he'd never listened.

That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, or a smear on his character; he'd always figured that he'd make it through, stage by stage, and that it was worthless worrying about it. The way he saw it was like this: If he stressed about something being bad, and it was bad, then he'd have to go through the stress of it twice. If he didn't concern himself with it at all, then he'd stress one time at most. This line of thinking wasn't really welcome in the atmosphere of his fellow initiates, but it was his line of thinking regardless.

He wasn't a fighter, but he was fast. This was what he knew about himself. After the first day of spars, a few bruises had blossomed across his skin, but they would heal. When it came to fears, he didn't care. What were they gonna show him? The number eight? A few clocks? An experience he'd already lived through? It was a piece of cake. This was his version of bravery: Stupidity. A lack of forethought. The demeaning of the enemy. It had worked so far.

That morning, Orin had received correspondence through the form of a letter from his little sister. It was short, and littered with words struck through with harsh lines. With brevity in mind, Aisling had made an attempt to send him her love, despite having none of the poetic skill required to correctly illustrate her thoughts and quashed feelings. They were one in the same, he and that fourteen-year-old terror, but their similarities presented in ways that opposed one another. Here was a boy that hid his truth through jokes, and here was a girl who hid hers through violence. She would fit well in Dauntless, when the time came. He worried for the people who would dare stand in that little hurricane's way.

Basically, the letter had said this: Ma misses you. Don't fail. I used your toothbrush to clean the toilet. Once translated, this meant: I love you. I miss you. Ma misses you, too, but not as much as I do. I used your toothbrush to clean the toilet.
(Some things were not declarations of love, when it came to Ais.)

At some point, he had found that his legs were walking of their own accord toward the Spartan Bar. He didn't think that he'd told them to, but he didn't think he told his legs to do a lot of things. They were attached to his body, sure, but they rarely listened to his mind's input. It was one foot in front of the other, their wants prevailing over any attempt at rational thinking. Orin didn't often deploy rational thought to situations, so his stride grew quicker. He was excited to see where they were aiming to take him.

"Hello!" Called Orin to anyone who was listening. "Potion seller?! I require your wares if I'm to survive in the upcoming battle between me and the urge to push a parked car into the river! Hello?"

He waited for a moment for someone to reply. When nobody did, he took this as his permission to hop over the bar, fetch himself a bottle, and begin pouring it into the nearest glass. He hoped it was clean, but ultimately the concern didn't bother him enough to wash it himself. The liquid was thick and brown, and hit his mouth in an assault of filthy flavour. He drank it regardless.

"Potion seller, your wares taste like battery acid!" He called out again. At this point, he didn't care if anyone was listening; he was simply filling the silence with his own version of comedy. "And your glasses are filthy! I don't mean to compare you to the big JC, but were you born in a barn?" He sat himself on the bar rather than on one of the stools, and briefly considered the pros and cons of pushing one of the beer taps with his foot, just to see the froth spurt out.
coded by natasha.
 

Sanctuaryforall1

Pyrrha Nikos Lives On














Shayla




Mood: Thinking

Location: Hospital

Interactions: Chris






Chris was dying. She wasn’t alone. While some might have found comfort in this and others dread Shay simply found a sense of calm. Feeling one way or the other wouldn’t change the hand fate dealt to either of them so she felt no real need to get worked up about it. She was dying, Chris was dying, that was all there was to it or at least all there needed to be. Her vibrant blue gaze traced the quilting pattern of the blanket her legs were tucked into, the vibrant and icy shade of her irises barely losing their intense color in the shadows of the room. The silence that surrounded Chris and herself wasn’t as heavy as one might think, it was almost like their normal silence but also had more meaning. Despite knowing the truths about each others conditions they were able to be just as they were before. Shay knew that this was why she had felt drawn to admit her secret to Chris, because even knowing the truth had changed absolutely nothing between the two of them. When Chris assured her that he would not tell her secret she simply managed a painful and exhausting nod of her head. She was sure that he knew his secret was safe with her as well. She had nothing to gain from telling anyone his business, no reason or right to share something like that with others. In the end the time and way the two of them faded was only for them to care about. It seemed that Chris was much like her, wanting to fade quietly into the darkness without making a scene or leaving others to mourn for her. She wasn’t sure how much alike they were but given the fact Chris had kept it to himself she could only assume he meant to make nothing of it to others.

“Thank you.” She uttered after several long moments of silence. With great effort she moved her hand to push a lock of her thick ebony hair out of her face as she met Chris’s stoney grey gaze with her own frozen blue stare. The words weren’t angled at anything in specific but were rather a general ‘thank you’ for all he had done for her and the secret he had promised to keep. He had already informed her of the strings he had pulled in getting her to the hospital and making sure she received the top level of care. He had offered to check on Lev for her, call her father for her, or get her anything she might need. None of these things were favors Chris would ever ask for anything in return for, no, it was just Chris being Chris. She was thankful for it, in fact she hoped that she would do the same for him if the time came. Though she tried to leave the affairs of others alone Shay knew that there was a short list of people she would prioritize above her need for isolation if the situation called for it. Already this week she had spent a good amount of her time keeping an eye on Aubrey which was something she hadn’t felt the need to do in years. Chris was another name on that list.

The more Shay thought about it in fact the more she found herself having the same thought over and over. Truly, in a very selfish way, Shay hoped that she died before him. Chris was a someone she had a level of comfort with that came with no pressure, no obligations, no need to be anything but herself because they were truly indifferent to one another. In the back of her mind it nagged at her that if Chris were to die before her she would feel that emptiness, that lack of constant presence. It would simply be gone and there would be nothing she could do about it. She didn’t bother to wonder if it would be the same for Chris or if he even felt the same way on the matter. Shay knew she would never in a million life times vocalize the fact that she wanted to go before him so wondering if the feeling was mutual would be absolutely pointless.

“Your…” She paused and took a breath trying to stop her head from swimming as she spoke. “Your secret is…safe with me.” She assured him, each word like a needle between her eyes. She knew that she likely didn’t need to say it but Chris had been kind enough to assure her that what she had told him would go no further and Shay wanted to be able to give him the same reassurance. “Does…does Blair know?” She asked after a moment. She wasn’t intending to be intrusive but wanted to be aware of who was already privy to the information just as a procaution.

Nerdy. Nerdy.





code by Stardust Galaxy
 

Nerdy.

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


Charlie's heart was pouring out for poor Thorn. As she watched him sit there, she could see under his gaze that he was in a warzone, that he was struggling and wrestling with multiple desires and thoughts and beliefs. She wished she could let him know that it would be okay when he was with her, but she knew that even that couldn't necessarily be true. Thorn had seen her melt down in a pure panic attack before, and he now knew about the reality of her father. He probably didn't trust her to be okay if he shared things with her, and he was probably aware that her father could come at any moment to hurt them, or take them, or kill them. But Charlie knew she could be there for Thorn, she didn't know whether she could give him any words of wisdom, or if she could truly comfort or heal any part of him, but one thing she knew for certain is that she would not run away from him, not from her darling Thorn. Growing up, she had loved spending time with him, and had not cared at all about their differences in ages. In fact, Charlie had spent much more time with those younger than her, or those much older than her, than those her age. The couple exceptions being Caspian, Phillip and occasionally Harper. But on the whole she had spent much more time with Aubrey's peers, with Thorn, Finn, Christian, Blair, Randi, Poppy, Maverick. She may not have gotten particularly close with most of them, but she had spent a good amount of time in their presence's. However, Thorn was the one that she had spent the most one on one time with out of all those names. She had loved to watch him create things, she had enjoyed the soft nature in which he spoke and acted, and how he did not give off the Dauntless attitude but showed a similar aptitude to her - she secretly believed that he had gotten amity in his test, same as her. All this to say, she had always loved him as a close friend, and now, as he sat before her but felt so very far away, she felt stretched and like their bond was tearing through unknown and unhelped ways. Could she do nothing to keep him close to her? Her shoulders tensed in fear and concern, wishing that he would open up, but loathe to force him and hurt him further. If it required a slow hand, then Charlie would take that slow route, she was certain that Thorn would do the same for her. He always had.

"I'm sorry if it seems I'm pushing too far." Charlie said, after a good long silence in which the only noises had been the rustling of her dress in the wind and the water lapping on the rocks and rushing beside them. She didn't meet his gaze as she talked, hoping that it would make him more comfortable. "I just don't want to lose you. You seem so distant." She finally admitted, feeling that it was the only honest and helpful thing she could say. Come back to me. She begged in her heart, and if his eyes had caught hers, it would be unmistakable to see that. I've already lost Caspian. Finn... Aubrey... I can't lose you too. She halfheartedly drew circles on the rock with her finger, leaving no mark but shivering at the rough feeling that it gave her, how it tickled the ends of her fingers. After that admittance the two fell silent for a while, neither seeming to know what to say next, and an awkward air coming about them. As if perfectly timed, a dark cloud rolled past the sun, and threatened to rain on them, and Charlie shivered in response to the cold wind that blew through. It would have been almost like a movie if it had started to rain, but instead the clouds continued moving quickly, and the sun was soon on them again. Charlie took that as a sign to say something, or to simply speak in general. Thorn had commented on the picnic before, and she had never replied. "It was no bother to sort it out, I'd already thought of it at some point. I hope though, that you did not find any cat hair." She said, a light smile coming on her cheeks. Thorn looked at her, their eyes connecting for the first time in a while. He commented that he hadn't known she had a cat. "I haven't, not until this week. Ghost got him for me... We called him Darcy, or well... Mr Darcy. He's quite the terror." She chuckled, knowing that Thorn would understand the reference to the book Pride and Prejudice. When they had been little Charlie had read it to him, probably more than once. Thinking on that a dark blush lighted upon her cheek. "Oh my, I probably tormented you by reading that book, didn't I? How boring that must have been for a young boy." She said, pulling her fingers up to her hair and playing with it awkwardly in a way to soothe her embarrassment. "You should come over and meet him some time..." She felt a loss of energy in her as she finished her sentence, and refrained from speaking for a little while, resorting to eating and drinking what she had brought for the picnic.

As the afternoon dragged on, and little more was spoken of that was very interesting or opening, Charlie had already chosen to just accept that Thorn was not going to talk about how he felt or what was on his mind, and that she just had to be okay with that for the moment, and hope that eventually she would be able to be there for him when he did feel like talking. There was little else she could do. The warm sun kept her smiling though, as it hung high overhead, and she felt a sudden urge to dip her feet in the water, or for that matter simply go for a walk in the river, or right beside it. Instead of speaking, or asking Thorn if he wanted to join her, she simply took off her shoes and slid down the rock gracefully, eliciting a sharp noise from Thorn who must have been distracted and thought she was falling. She giggled softly, flashing him a small smile to show that she was fine. "I'm just a bit warm." She stated, and proceeded to dip her toes into the rushing water. She knew it was not adviseable to swim in this particular section of the water, as there were so many rocks that it would be a statistical improbability to NOT hit one, but it did make for fun walking if one could keep their balance, as there were enough rocks to walk quite confidently down the river. Again, not inviting Thorn, as he should know he would be able to join her if he wanted to, she began to skip over rocks, carefully and occasionally swiftly, and when she would get to a nice on with deep water, she would sit and dip her legs in the water, drawing the skirt of her dress high so that the edges did not get wet. Kicking her feet gently in the water, she stared at the bubbles and ripples and waves that were made as it moved around, underneath, above and even through some of the rocks. Water was so adaptable, and relentless. It didn't slow down just because something was placed in front, it simply found a way around it, and if that was impossible, through immense and continual strength it could bore through even the toughest rocks. She stared at it in awe of this realization, and smiled to herself. She hoped she was like water, that she could adapt, move and find ways around her obstacles, that she could get through anything if given the time. She wondered too, if Thorn was currently more like a rock, and whether right now she just had to be around him, rather than trying to bore through him. She looked back at him, dark brown eyes sparkling in the sun, and gave him a wave. "It's really beautiful down here." She said. Come join me. She thought.

Interacting with: Thorn Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1
 

Nerdy.

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


Nothing had changed. The admittance of possibly the biggest fear a young person could have, had just so happened to be admitted between the two who might have taken it the best, and had grown the most comfortable with it. There was something sweet about their relationship, Chris and Shay, how no matter what happened they remained the same. It was likely due to the fact that neither party had tried very hard to get to know the other, and somehow, by default, that meant that now they seemed to be closer than most others around them. Shay didn't seem to hold many people close to her anymore, Chris knew that she allowed Lainey to room with her, but she never seemed very attentive towards her, so he surmised they weren't dating, and likely weren't even friends. She mostly seemed to simply love her cat, and maybe her dad. Thus why Chris had suggested the things he had. It wasn't because he was sucking up to Shay, or hoping for things in return. Nor was it because he loved her above all else, or had debts he was paying back. No, Chris offered these things because it seemed right, it seemed decent, and it simply made sense. If anybody knew Christian, they knew that was what he was like, he did things that made sense... Although depending on his state of mind those things would become more or less reasonable. But right now, it had seemed apt to talk to Shay about his own condition, though he left out the part where he got it because he overdosed on drugs that he had taken from Ghost. That seemed... unnecessary to point out to Shay, and she had not opened up about her own reasons for dying either. That was none of his concern or business anyhow. He was happy to remain in the same grey friendship the two had, grey as in there seemed to be no emotion connected to them, but also grey like a rock wall, foundational, strong, and unlikely to break except through immense pressure. It was a steady relationship that brought strange comfort. Christian softly breathed through his nose as he sat next to Shay and waited for the reply from Vex, he doubted she would take long, and as he suspected, she replied quickly. At first, as always, he was immediately confused to why Vex was offering to go get pie with him, but it took only a couple of seconds for him to remember what she had taught him. That was a code. If anyone were to read it, they would think the two were going out for pie, but to Chris and Vex, it meant more than that. It meant he had a mission, he needed to meet her, and then they would be off. Then... Dr Munro would surely continue helping Christian.

At Shay's words, Christian was about to reply about Blair's knowledge of the whole affair, when he suddenly keeled over on the seat. Deep coughs spurted from seemingly nowhere as he almost dry heaved, having not eaten in a long time. The metallic taste of blood washed through his mouth, and he barely managed to cover his coughs and mouth with his sleeve before the blood came struggling up his throat and out onto his sleeve. The dark blue of his jumper turned a slight purple in spots, not a heap of blood, but enough to show Christian that he needed to continue the treatment with Dr Munro.
"Sorry..' He said, his voice raspy and obviously struggling not to cough any more. He bent away from Shay so that she did not have to watch him, as another rack of coughs brought him almost out of the chair and to his knees, his torso bending and contorting as the tickle continued. After a particularly bad but useful cough, he felt a smidge of relief, but his sleeve was turning much darker with each cough. Wiping his mouth with a clean part of the same sleeve, he took a few shaky breaths, trying to judge how long he could make it without any more lull. Would he be able to get to Vex in time? Or Dr Munro? Or would he need to take some? From the way his body trembled, and sweat was layering him like a cake, he was fairly sure he wouldn't make it to Vex in time. He needed some NOW. Sighing, he stood up. "I'm sorry about that. I have to go. I'll check on Lev." He said, heading towards the door. That's when he remembered Shay's question, and the thought of Blair was like a pin in his heart. "She does know..." He said, feeling the tremor in his voice, and not knowing whether that was emotion, or pain. He had hated breaking up with her, but he was certain it had to be for her benefit. She deserved someone who would live, and maybe Dr Munro would find a cure for him. She deserved someone who wouldn't hurt her, and Dr Munro was already helping Christian! She deserved a good person. And Dr Munro was helping Chris to achieve that title. He smiled half-heartedly to Shay, and tipped his head. "Rest well." He said, more as a way to say goodbye than a genuine request or imperative. He was aware that she would likely struggle to rest, and so he meant it in farewell. Moving out of her room, he made his way as fast as possible to the nearest bathroom, and admittedly didn't take notice of the fact that it was the accessibility one. Locking the door quickly beside him, he ran to the toilet, barely reaching there in time as he dry heaved some more, mostly only blood coming from his heaves and coughs. The pain that resonated through his throat and chest was astounding, much worse than usual, and Christian wondered whether he was tearing up his throat with the coughs. Shuddering and shivering, hot and cold, he stayed there prostrated by toilet, waiting for the tremors to subside and his body to have strength to stand. His hands held the bag of lull he kept on him, and he knew all he needed to do was to get up and take some, and he would feel miles better. The problem was taking too much. That's what got him here in the first place.

Christian steeled himself, determined not to take more than was necessary. Each bag he had had enough for about two doses. But he had, on too many occasions, taken the whole bag in one go. It was just so tempting, the feeling of lull was incredible, it made him feel on top of the world, it gave him joy and adrenaline and excitement. It had lead to some fun nights with Blair before. But it also lead to much worse symptoms, much worse let downs, and it was not good for him. Standing now in front of the mirror, he looked at himself, feeling like a skeleton and though looking mostly normal, he finally took the dose he was meant to. Placing the bag quickly bag into his pants pockets so that he wouldn't take any more. It didn't take long, maybe a few seconds, and he immediately felt the change. A pleasurable shiver made its way up his back and it felt like the pain in his chest and throat, the need to cough and throw up, and even the taste of his own blood... was all washed away. Looking in the mirror, he could have sworn that as he stared at it, his eyes became bluer, his hair more blonde, his jersey the sky, the bathroom a cloud. He giggled softly as he saw the entire room begin sparkling and the red spots of blood he'd left in the room looking like poppies in a field of snow. The urge to take more was there, but now he was satisfied, and it soon left him. Waiting just long enough to have some grip on his senses, he took his jumper off, leaving it in the corner of the room, and exited in simply his white t-shirt, somehow surprisingly with no blood on it. He swaggered out of the hospital with little care and exited quickly. He jogged to Shay's place first, as it was closer than his own, and he quickly checked on Lev. The cat was fine, simply upset at being alone for so long. Christian gave him some refretful head scratches, although regretting it more as his nose clogged up a tad, and made sure to fill the food and water bowl up a lot. He left a note on the counter. Shay is in hospital. Call for more information. And put his own phone number down. He hoped Shay wouldn't be mad. It was simply if anything were to happen and someone needed to find out where exactly she was. Christian then rushed to his own house, wanting to change attire to something a bit better for what they might be about to do in this mission that Vex implied. He quickly got changed, placing on some dark grey jeans, a white singlet this time, and a black leather jacket on top. He gave a quick wash to his face, just in case it was bloodied up, and combed his shorter hair back. Once he was satisfied, he slipped on some comfortable boots and headed to the meeting spot. He jogged most of the way, but as soon as the abandoned Diner cart came into view, he moved to a leisurely walk, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed and back, and his gaze mostly on the general environment. Vex had taught him to do that, to look natural. He didn't always see a need for it, but she often told him to practice what she taught him as much as possible. HE walked up to the Diner Cart, wondering if Vex was there yet.

Interacting with: Shay, Vex Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1
 

Sanctuaryforall1

Pyrrha Nikos Lives On














Fable




Mood: Happy

Location: Burger Shop

Interactions: Griffon






Listening to Griffon talk was something she could never grow bored of. He was so thoughtful and even though he tended to forget a lot of things he was one of the most interesting people to listen to. The way he viewed the world and the way he viewed people were so different from how Fable might see things and to hear him express those thoughts could sometimes clue her into little things she hadn’t realized or help her to see the bigger picture. Even when Griffon was going down a verbal rabbit hole of trying to piece together fragments of memories he was still usually the person Fable would choose to listen to in a room full of people. His words had a way of really reaching her, making her want to hear more, even when it was simply a conversation about how loosely she uses the word cute. That had truly made her laugh and she found herself still trying to control her giggles as Griffon gushed over Aya’s art and how it put his own sketches to shame. When her brother then began to voice another thought but continued to cut himself off before finally shooting it down altogether Fable wasted no time. Reaching down into her now cooled tray of fries her fingers pinched one at random and with a flick of her wrist she sent it flying across the table at him. Her intent had been to hit his shoulder with the deep fried wedge of potato but upon letting it go a heartbeat too early the fry flew through the air and slapped Griffon on the cheek.

Slapping her hand over her mouth and looking at her brother with wide green and blue eyes there was a moment of total silence between them before it broke as she fell into a fit of laughter. “I am soooooo sorry!” She gasped, her voice still thick with chuckles as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye after laughing so hard it made her eyes water. “I was aiming for your shoulder, I SWEAR.” She promised and held her hand up innocently as she looked at Griffon, her shoulders still shaking with laughter. “I was trying to, I dunno, get you to tell me what you were trying to say and my brain thought throwing a fry was the best way to do that.” The fiery haired girl explained as she realized she sort of owed it to Griffon at this point to let him know exactly why he had been hit with a french fry out of nowhere. “My methods were questionable but my intentions were good, I promise.” Fable did her best to assure her brother though she knew he might not remember what they had been talking about at this point.

To be quite honest Fable had never really grasped how quickly Griffon’s memory loss could kick in. She knew he had a hard time recalling old memories but he also sometimes struggled to remember things that happened more recently. It was hard to pin down if one thing would be more memorable than the next so sometimes Fable would just try to hope he remembered until she could be certain if he forgot or not. If she could tell he had forgotten something she would do her best to tell him about it, especially if she was there and had her own memory to go off of. To be honest Fable had often, especially early on, wondered what it was like to have amnesia like Griffon. She wondered how much simpler things could have been for her, if her parents would have loved her more, if she could have been a better daughter or not. Those thoughts didn’t cross her mind so much anymore though. Fable was happy with who she was and the person she saw herself becoming. No matter how painful the past was she knew she needed to remember it so she could continue to push herself past it and towards what she hoped to be a better life for herself. She had made a lot of progress in the last few weeks. There were still things she couldn’t bring herself to do, wearing anything that exposed her shoulders and back being one of them, but still she had made great strides to take control over her own life. If she were to suffer from memory loss like Griffon she doubted she would be at the point she was today. While she might have once jumped at the chance to forget things like Griffon that time of her life was over, plus she doubted she would have ever handled it as gracefully as her brother.

Nerdy. Nerdy.



 

Sanctuaryforall1

Pyrrha Nikos Lives On














Vex




Mood: Calculating

Location: Coffee Shop/Abandoned Dining Cart

Interactions: Chris






After a few minutes of casually finishing her cold brew and looking at her phone a little longer Vex finally got to her feet and made her way out of the coffee shop. She hadn’t wanted to leave in too much of a rush after sending the text, that was just sloppy, so instead she had just pretended to play a game on her phone and sip on her drink. Now that she was out on the streets again she knew she needed to make sure she wasn’t ever too obvious about where she was going. She was a master of looking natural in her surroundings, walking and simply existing in a way that allowed her to blend in and disappear. It was like second nature to her at this point and while it wasn’t as much fun as making herself seen she did it because she knew it was more important to lay low and get as much done as she could. Before everything Dr. Munro and his associates had planned was complete she had no doubts she would earn her chance to be seen, at least by a few targets before she killed them. She did love to stand out, to be looked at in awe and fear, it reminded her that she was truly exquisite like Dr. Munro had always told her. He was proud of his work and she was proud to be the subject that got to show it off. She was handmade, her imperfections made right by the most skilled scientists, her emotional flaws mended so she could perform her duties without hesitation, her weaknesses molded into strengths, she was divine and it was all thanks to Dr. Munro.

When Vex finally reached the old dining cart she noticed she was the only one there and figured Chris was still off playing hero to Shay. The former erudite girl knew that no matter what he would be on her way now that she had informed them of their need to meet up. As she had intended Chris had been visiting Dr. Munro almost every day and receiving his treatments. With each dose he fell further and further under her sway and more importantly under the control of the good doctor. Sooner or later Chris would be completely submitted to the will of Dr. Munro, a handsome toy soldier added to the game. This gave Vex an almost giddy feeling. She liked the idea that Chris would be joining them completely soon enough, it meant she had done her job well and would be making Erudite proud. Having control over one of the golden sons of Dauntless was quite a feat, even if it wasn’t the best option out of the bunch. Chris had his flaws but Vex was well aware that the doctor would patch him up and keep him going for as long as he was useful. Once that stopped he would likely grant her the privilege of disposing of Chris or maybe just let the young man wither away into nothing like he had been before Dr. Munro got involved. No matter how it ended Vex had found she was enjoying her time with Chris over the past week and saw him as a fun play thing and tool for the time being.

Waiting at the counter of the abandoned dining cart, out of sight of the windows and in a defendable position, Vex leaned against the bar and kept her senses alert for Chris. It took a few moments but she never doubted that he would show and eventually his familiar footsteps began to ring in her ears. Turning her head slightly towards the door to the cart Vex let her lips curl into a slight smile as she uncrossed her arms and stood up, nodding her head in greeting. “You look like you cleaned up well.” She purred as he drew closer and she got a good look at his recently brushed hair and clean face. There was something else about him, the look in his eyes, the way his pupils were over stimulated by the changing shades of light in the cart. He was on Lull. Vex had seen the signs before in others, she knew Chris had a past with it, but she bit her tongue on making any sort of comment regarding the use of the drug. It was up to Chris if he wanted it in his system and Dr. Munro hadn’t warned her to stop him so she figured it was to be expected at this point. “I heard about what happened today, with you and Blair.” Vex began in a softer tone. “I’m sorry about that.” She continued and gently placed a hand on the blonde male's bicep. “Dr. Munro is doing everything he can to make it so this is only temporary and you two will be back together soon hopefully.” She assured him, the lie coming as easy as air into her lungs and sounding as convincing as the most genuine of truths. Giving his arm a gentle squeeze before allowing her fingers to gently run along his skin as her hand moved back to her side Vex looked away from his gray blue eyes. She turned and went back to lean against the counter, tossing her semi braided, semi down, semi dreaded hair over her shoulder in the process. “There is something we can do to help the doc though.” Vex began to explain as she jumped into the mission briefing. “There is a small privately operated lab on the edge of Erudite that has been trying to steal valuable information from Dr. Munro and his company. This lab plans to take all that Dr. Munro has worked on, make it themselves, then hike up the price to turn over a massive profit. They are trying to stand on the shoulders of giants and claim to see further.” He voice was less soft now, in fact it was growing hard and the look in her eye showed that this mission was important. “Our job is to end that before it even happens.” In reality this small lab was trying to steal valuable information, had gained nothing, and was in fact caught and traced by Munro’s defenses which was why it was a perfect practice mission for Chris, to see how loyal he was at this point and how far he would go.

Nerdy. Nerdy.





code by Stardust Galaxy
 

Wolfiee

Meow
Roleplay Availability
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location
location over here.
mood
mood over here.
outfit
outfit over here.
mentions
mentions over here.
Aya.

Aya had been watching the fight between Ghost and Cas intrigued by their movements like she had been with the fight earlier. She had nodded to Randi when she suggested they watch the fight between Cas and Ghost. Then she pondered the question.”I’d have to say Ghost.”she said about who would step out as the victor. She knew Cas was not someone to mess with that the girl could hold her own very well. Show her something about Ghost almost always seemed terrifying that the male would do anything to win no matter what it cost. However he seemed to be in a rather weird mood today maybe do to the simulation from earlier then being fired by Warren. There was just something unhinged about Ghost though maybe it was just a way for him to survive in this cruel world if so she couldn’t blame him for it. She continued watching the fight along side Randi before the pretty blonde said she would be right back and skipped away with a wink. Aya watched her for a moment amused then she watched the other suddenly grab her stuff then take off. She felt concern run through her but Randi was always on the move maybe she was late for an appointment or something. Aya pondered going after her then the sounds of Ghost and Cas drew her attention once more. If she had to picture Ghost with an aura like she had done with the girls earlier he would be a basilisk. She would soon pull her sketch book out beginning to draw Ghost this time as the two continued sparring. Her eyes leaving the paper to watch them every now and then until suddenly the match was over. She closed her sketch book before standing up watching Ghost comment towards Cas before taking off as well his phone in hand as he texted away. She shook her head some then looked towards Cas. “Well I think you certainly deserve some ice-cream now.”she said putting away her art supplies into her bag.

Once Cas had gotten ready to head out Aya headed out with her.”Which fight had you enjoyed the most?”she asked her friend curious to which one had given Cas a bigger thrill. She listened as Cas seemed to laugh then talk about which one had been the best though she had certainly enjoyed both of them. The next question this time would leave Cas asking Aya where Randi had gone off to. “I’m not sure where she went. She got a message on her phone it seemed once she read it she suddenly took off so I’m not sure if something happened or if she was just late for something.”she answered the best that she could as they continued walking. It wasn’t much longer before they came upon a particular place.”Oh let’s stop here we can grab some food and ice-cream.”she said opening the door for Cas to enter first. Once Cas was within she would enter right behind her looking around before spotting Griffon and Fable. She hadn’t expected to run into them here though she followed after Cas who quickly took a table next to theirs. “Hey guys.”she greeted Griffon and Fable with a warm smile. She noticed a pink tinting Griffons face suddenly so she wondered what the two had been talking about previously. Her gaze watched Griffon for a few more moments before turning back towards Cas.”What are you gonna get?”she asked her curiously. There were so many things to get and most of them seemed rather good.
coded by natasha.
 

Nerdy.

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


Aubrey listened to Rhys whilst ignoring the throbbing behind her air. She admittedly was struggling to concentrate on him, not because it was disinteresting or because she had better things to think about, but vainly she couldn't help the obsessive desire to wash her hair immediately. She knew that her beautiful blonde locks were likely bloodied and becoming matted as she sat there and was getting tended to, even as Rhys spoke. Thus, her fingers gripped at her knees and her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip aggressively as she tried to ignore it, and listen to Rhys. Aubrey didn't know Rhys terribly well, not like she knew Christian and Finn, but she'd grown up around him and had always gotten along fine with him. She'd always found him to be interesting, never sure exactly what he was like. Nevertheless she did enjoy being with him, as she did with any good looking male in Dauntless. As he spoke, she was suddenly reminded of Shay's particular problem that she had only seen the end of as she came out of her simulation. "Ah yes, I saw that." She said, her voice becoming slightly colder by habit. Although she had loved Shay, they had grown up as best friends, her demeanour towards Shay was much colder now, more distant. She had found it a pang in her heart to look at her previous bestfriend in such a fashion; She didn't want to feel sad for Shay though. Shay had just dropped off the face of the earth in terms of relationships. One moment she had been best friends with Aubrey, the next she avoided her, she didn't talk to her, she was cold, unforgiving, hard. Aubrey had cried and screamed at Shay at some points, accusing her of who knows what, just to try to get a reaction out of her, but after the coldness that Aubrey had experienced from that, she had done exactly the same back to Shay, and had avoided her, and if possible, gotten colder towards her. Thus, there was a rival of feelings inside her as she thought about Shay's condition. The old Aubrey who still cared deeply for Shay, she was very worried, she wanted to know if she was okay, she hoped she was. But the hardened Aubrey was slowly trying to build a steel wall up, to not care. She didn't want Rhys to know that though. "You look fine though. I'm sure it was something to do with Shay personally, rather than the simulation. I know Christian has allergies to the serum, maybe Shay is similar." She suggested offhandedly, wanting to get away from this conversation.

"Well, once they've checked us both out, I was thinking of grabbing a drink. You in?" She said, going off topic as soon as possible was something she was keen to do. If Rhys seemed surprised at her eagerness to leave the discussion of Shay so quickly, he didn't show it. He agreed that it was a good idea, and Aubrey nodded enthusiastically, though got a quick gripe from the nurse treating her, as she pulled a stitching that she was trying to put in. Aubrey blushed softly, and stayed still and silent now, wanting the stitching to be done and for her to have the chance to wash her hair. "Let's stop by the dorms, I need to get this blood out of my hair." She said, "Plus I stink of that man's cheap booze." She said, wrinkling her nose as she thought about how yuck that alcohol probably was. She hoped it had been clean enough to keep the wound sterilized, she didn't want to have to come back to the doctors, or worse, to Charlie, to get it fixed again. Soon enough though, the nurse was finished and she moved on to Rhysand, checking him over and asking him lots of questions. Aubrey didn't pay much attention, instead she simply patted at her stitching softly, wanting to know whether it was covered well and how much area it covered. Once satisfied, and once Rhys had been properly checked and declared fine, they got up and headed towards the dorms. Aubrey walked briskly, eager and now thinking purely upon cleaning up her hair and checking how she looked in the mirror. She was hardly even in the dorm before she started pulling of her top, having no care for whether others were there, or whether Rhys (or others) cared about viewing her body. She was quite proud of her body, and had always been trained in Dauntless to be so proud, and to not care whether others viewed it. In fact, she rather liked it. Thus, she yanked off her top, now only in a sports bra (though a well covered one) and threw her top on her bed as she waltzed into the bathroom. "I won't be a minute." She said, as she headed to the nearest shower. The dorms themselves did not try very hard to keep privacy, the bathroom was unisex, there were no particular stalls or private areas in the bathroom or the mass bedroom. So either people had to try pick a time that nobody was around, or they had to find the other showers and toilets that were scattered around the compound. Aubrey simply didn't care, and thus she just got to washing up her hair, happily watching as the blood began running down her body and into the drain.

It took a little over 4 minutes for Aubrey to finish washing out her hair, and she came back into the dorm wrapped in a towel, and quickly got changed back into what she had been wearing before, as the clothes themselves had not been dirty. "I'm ready now!" She chirped, as she turned to see where Rhys was. She had half expected to find him missing, but there he was, still waiting for her. She grinned, eager to have company for once. There was something about drinking with others that definitely held a better feeling than drinking alone. She began to braid her hair as she walked, her arms aching but she didn't care. "That's much better. I hate having blood in my hair. It must be so nice to have dark hair for you, then you won't be able to see it. Is my hair tinged at all pink or red? I think I got it all out, but the mirrors in the bathroom aren't exactly perfect." She rambled, looking up at Rhys as she finally asked him to check her over. He did so, scanning her hair, then commenting that if anything was left it was not noticeable. She nodded happily as she strolled through the compound, heading towards a bar that she didn't frequent very much, but had been to a few times. The Spartan Bar. It definitely had an awesome name. Aubrey had been obsessed with Spartans as a little girl, she had often dressed up as them, she had studied them even outside of school, and she had read many novels. Not only that, but she had often read about the Greek gods, and had a love for Athena and Ares. She had often forced Finn into dressing as Ares, even though he always preferred to be Apollo or Poseidon. "Have you been to the Spartan Bar Rhys? It's quite good." She said, as she walked in to the environment. It wasn't as full as usual, as it was still only the afternoon. She saw a few people there that she recognized by face only, not knowing them genuinely, and bravely walked continuously towards the bar itself. This place wasn't for wimps, it was a serious bar and had serious people in it that would beat you up for whatever reason they desired. Aubrey wasn't afraid though... She wasn't usually anyway, but recently, Aubrey had little fear for her own wellbeing. She sat at the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice her and Rhys, and scanned the environment. That's when she noticed Orin. "Hey Orin!" She called, waving at him. She knew Orin about as well as she knew Rhys, but that didn't mean she wasn't eager to drink with him too. Drinking with one boy was fun, drinking with two sounded like a party. "Come join us." She said.

Interacting with: Rhys Wolfiee Wolfiee Orin fraxiom fraxiom


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

Cassidy smirked as Ghost exited the stage, as she thought of it. If that were a real fight, you may very well have been dead. She thought to herself, though she knew her tendency was not to kill people, but in a life or death situation, she would. No matter, in her mind and from her perspective, she had certainly won that sparring session. She stood straight and proud, stubbornly ignoring the pain it caused her, as Ghost quickly exited, and only when he had exited the door did she slump and a grimace of pain enveloped her features for a few seconds. She sunk to the floor gently, and began to pick up her knife which she had artfully dropped as an excuse to crouch, but once down in that position she had to sit there for a few seconds. Her body screeched at her, telling her that she was in much more pain than she actually was. Her stomach and shoulder were fired up, they felt like they must have been three times their size in swelling, and like they were bleeding profusely, but she knew from experience that it was likely that they were hardly bruised. Her breathing was ragged for a few seconds, as she recovered and finally stood up. Ghost was a competent combatant. Not only competent, but he was wise in what he viewed, he could tell that she wasn't just a quick learner, he had hinted as much by what he had said at the end. He wanted to know why she could fight like she could. You will not be getting that information. She thought grimly, her life flashing before her eyes for a second. She may open up about some things, Ghost seemed like a useful person to have as an ally, so truth would be necessary in garnering that partnership, but she did not know him well enough to open up her backstory to. She had not opened it up to anyone yet, only Griffon - as he had been there with her. She had wondered about telling Randi, but she saw no need, Randi was good fun, and opening up would somehow ruin that, Cas was sure. She perked up as Aya spoke about ice-cream, and Cassidy nodded enthusiastically. "I am definitely ready to have something cold." She said, motioning to her sweaty arms and obvious exertion. She put the weapons away neatly, sanitizing them before so that whoever used them next would have clean weapons. As she walked back to Aya, she took slow and deep breaths, trying to relieve her body of the pain that it was in. She knew she was fine, but that didn't mean she could tolerate the pain any easier.

"What fight did I like more? That's a tough question." Cassidy laughed as she thought back to the two fights. It was no wonder she was so exhausted, she thought, as she had done two sparring sessions right after each other. She didn't take too long to answer. "I think if I'm being honest, I liked sparring with Ghost more. Mostly because I haven't sparred him before, and he was certainly an interesting combatant." She said, thinking back onto how interesting it had been. "But I always love sparring with Randi. So they were both very fun; Which one was more interesting to watch? You caught the end of mine and Randi's and saw the fight with Ghost. Do you have any comments?" She asked, curious to hear what Aya thought. Even though Cassidy was certain that she knew more than Aya when it came to combat, she had become acutely aware of how very good Aya's eye for detail was, and that included with sparring and training. Aya had become someone that Cassidy enjoyed asking to comment on things, as she often picked up on things that Cassidy might not have. She listened as Aya talked about the two fights, giving her comments and thoughts on the two and eventually deciding which one she had favoured. "Where did Randi go?" She asked, remembering how the blonde had exited during the fight. She had been a bit disappointed that Randi hadn't stayed long enough to watch till the end, she would have liked to gloat a little bit with her, but it had also given oppurtunity for Cassidy to take Ghost in surprise, as he had been too curious to stop himself watching Randi leave. She listened to Aya, and she nodded along, her eyes warming as she noted the diner that they were approaching. Although she was not a big fan of ice-cream, she did love sorbet, as they came in preferable flavours and were not usually so sickeningly sweet and creamy. Plus, Cassidy always got the duller flavours. They entered the Diner, Cassidy first and then Aya, and she immediately grinned as her eyes lighted upon her favourite person. "Griffon! Fable!" She said, her voice rising a pitch higher as she skipped over with Aya, immediately dragging another table over and sitting beside her brother. She was also quick to notice Griffon's little glance and blush. It was quick, and he immediately smiled and gave her a large hug, offering Aya a warm smile. She raised an eyebrow, looking from Fable to Griffon. What had the two been talking about? Why had he blushed when she and Aya had entered? Was there something going on between her brother and her friend? She wondered, but said nothing about it.

"What do I want?" Cassidy murmured, scanning a menu as Aya asked her that question and she repeated it. She knew she would never be able to get through a milkshake, from the looks of Griffon and Fable's. Finally she found the sorbet section, and her eyes scanned it quickly. "I think I'll just get a lemon and raspberry sorbet." She said, and smiled at Aya who quickly ordered for herself and Cassidy. It didn't take long for the waiter to return with their orders, and Cassidy made sure to eat her sorbet slowly, not wanting to spur on a migraine or headache or any other aches and pains. It was cold and tangy, and not too sweet, which Cassidy adored. "So, what have you two been talking about?" She asked, eyebrow raised yet again as she sent an accusing look towards Griffon. He almost choked on his milkshake as she asked, and his glance quickly went towards Aya before breaking off and staring enamoured at his milkshake. He seemed to hesitate out of fear, Cas thought. Finally Fable began to speak, freeing Griffon of what was obviously causing him some embarrassment. She stated they had been talking about how the simulations went, and then how they had been talking about art. Aya perked up at this, and began to say something about art. "I think we were going to go to one of the tattoo parlours later actually. Maybe we could peruse the art there together. Pick out tattoos that we may or may not get." Cassidy suggested. Griffon glance up at her with surprise, knowing that she could not get a tattoo. She refused to explain herself in this position though, and instead continued to eat her sorbet, stealing a fry from Fable and Griffon's stash as they continued talking. "Have you two done any art recently? I do believe that out of the four of us you two are the artistic ones." She said, getting an affirming nod from Fable. Cassidy was a brilliant dancer, and was a decent singer, but when it came to drawing, she simply lacked imagination and design. She was good when it came to fashion and design though. She listened, hoping that the conversation might draw out whatever was causing Griffon his sudden and unusual shyness.

Interacting with: Ghost Windfall Windfall Aya Wolfiee Wolfiee Fable Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1 Griffon
 
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Sanctuaryforall1

Pyrrha Nikos Lives On














Randi




Mood: Mixed

Location: Street

Interactions: Ghost






Her mind was ablaze with thoughts and very few of them involved anything positive. She had seen that photo, seen the remains of the device police believed started the fire at the Holloway family home. Several things about that photo had her on edge and rushing back to her uncle's apartment, important elements that would tear her world apart if she found out her fears were reality. The device in the grainy photograph wasn’t the only of its kind, no, it was the spitting image of the device found in what remained of her parents house after it burned down when she was younger. So many people wanted to believe that the Rose family had fallen victim to a pyromaniac toddler accidentally catching the curtains on fire when no one was looking but Randi knew that wasn’t true. Years ago she had begun digging into the arson case that followed her parents death. It wasn’t so much to prove her innocence, screw the gossipers, but more out of a need to know the truth. Truth and honesty were two of the things Randi valued more than most others. If there was a truth to be found in the incident that led to her parents death than she wanted, no she needed to find it. In her expedition for the truth of that day Randi managed to sweet talk the right people and get some time alone with the files. While she might enjoy acting dumb Randi was anything but and still to this very day she could remember every word, ever theory, ever note scribbled into that file, but more so she could remember the pictures she found within. Among the images of charred remains and burn structure a picture of a small bundle device was settled with a flame scorched watch rigged to the side.

This however was only part of the disturbing theory that plagued her mind as she got closer and closer to her uncle's shop and the home they shared. With each step the blonde felt herself sinking further and further into the reality of what she was coming to realize. While the incendiary device from over a decade ago had an older watch on it the new photos from the Holloway fire had a watch made within recent years. It might not look very special to anyone else but a small detail had been visible within the poor quality photo released to the public and that one single detail was enough for Randi to be almost certain she knew where the device had come from. A red smudge, or at least that is what it would look like to the official investigators. A red smudge just above the twelve on the wrist watch put there by Randi herself.

Her breath was surprisingly steady as she thought about it but her fists were clenched tight. If that was the same device made by the same person as the one from her childhood then that meant the person who made it was the owner of the red smudged watch. Each step she took felt like she was going nowhere and a mile all at once. She couldn’t get to Freights fast enough but at the same time she wanted to be nowhere near his place at all. The confliction was making her stomach clench uncomfortably and she briefly balled her fists, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands as she made sure to keep her breath even. She didn’t feel it when her nails cut into the flesh of her palms and blood began to bead between her fingers. All she could feel was the spiraling of her world going out of control as she prayed she was wrong. She prayed to anyone listening that when she got to Freights she would find she was mistaken and that he still had the watch she had given him and marked with a red smudge so he would always know it came from his little rose.

Her thoughts were so aggressive that she found herself finally needing to stop and take a moment to gather herself as she ducked into an alley and sank against a brick wall. She wasn’t sure when she pulled her phone out or for what reason but soon enough the light of the screen was shining into her jade gaze as a message popped up. The young blonde initiate almost wanted to ignore it when she saw it was a message from Ghost asking where she was. However, when the second message asking to tag along popped up, so too did an idea. If she was going to possibly be entering a lions den, even one she had lived in her entire life, then perhaps it wouldn’t be such a horrible idea to have some form of back up. A heartbeat later slightly bloody fingers were dancing along the phone screen as Randi sent Ghost a reply to his message. ‘I need to deal with a family thing but if you could meet me a block from the weapons shop at the corner of Krestle and Upton I could use a huge favor.’ Not wanting to give herself time to talk herself out of asking for help Randi pressed send the moment the message was done typing. It didn’t take long for Ghost to reply, his answer was short and simple saying he would meet her there but that favors weren’t cheap. Another time she might have smiled and rolled her eyes at the response but right now she was too hyper focused on the issue at hand to manage something so playful.

Several long minutes passed in that alley way where Randi sat in silence. A few times she wondered if she wished she had never seen that article pop up but every time the thought entered her mind she knew it wasn’t the case. She wanted to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt she needed to know if she was right or wrong. It wasn’t a matter of what made her feel happy or safe, what mattered was knowing who she could trust and who she couldn’t and possibly a matter of finally getting answers to questions she had been told to stop asking long ago. When enough time had passed Randi managed to get to her feet, her legs feeling like taffy as she stepped out of the alley and crossed the street to the meeting location she had set up with Ghost. Sure enough just down the road she could see the dark hair and sculpted features of the former instructor approaching her. Once he was close enough for her to speak to him in hushed tones Randi took a breath and began. “Ghost, I need to confront my uncle with something.” She began simply. “I think…I think he has been lying to me about something very important for practically my whole life…something about my parents.” She continued and knew she didn’t want to go too far into the explanation for fear she could be wrong and simply make her uncle look bad. “This is going to sound weird but could you, I dunno, keep watch for me? I don’t want you there in the room or he might not really feel like speaking at all but maybe if you hangout outside you could keep an eye on things and lend a hand if I need it?” She requested knowing full and well how paranoid and off the request sounded.

Windfall Windfall





code by Stardust Galaxy
 

Windfall

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Ghost // Male // Age 18 // Officially Unemployed // Erudite to Dauntless

The common stereotype that women were worse with directions than men had little truth to it, Ghost was rapidly discovering. He had started in one direction toward what he thought was the intersection of Krestle and Upton streets, took a side street and got turned around, located a nearby Russian restaurant on his phone to help him navigate, and realized that he was walking in the opposite direction that the little blue cone of light was indicating. A twinge of frustration at himself warred with an overwhelming desire to sit down and take his weight off his aching feet, and the street curb was looking more inviting than it had any right to be. He was still new to this exercising every day thing, and a sedentary approach to solving problems was his natural state. Sparring with Cassidy had stolen all his remaining energy like a dried-up desert stream. How was it humanly possible that Randi had traversed half the city in the five minutes in between her sudden departure and Ghost texting her? He was sincerely unsure whether he would have reached out if he knew how much distance and effort pursuing her would have consumed.
Dull pain lanced from his knees to his thighs as he shambled in the new direction that the little map on his phone had rerouted, the result of crouching in a fighting stance for twenty minutes plus Cassidy’s penchant for sneaky blows. “You owe me a drink for this, Randi,” he grumbled to himself, trying not to hunch as he walked. “Two drinks. One for each leg.” Until recently, Ghost had never had a particular fondness for alcohol, but getting a drink was the sweet note with which he and Randi had taken to ending their sparring sessions. Now that he’d been experimenting with different drinks and Randi had actively been helping him find new ones that he might enjoy based on preferences, Ghost was starting to get into the drinking scene. Plus drinking was a lot more socially acceptable than popping shrooms in broad daylight—which he sometimes still did anyway. For the remainder of the walk Ghost entertained himself by imagining what drinks he would order when he and Randi finally sat down at a bar. Fancy cocktails or shots? He’d been itching to try a French 75 after Randi had described the drink to him, but a vodka gimlet was a safe bet. And while sambuca was his favorite shot, Ghost had found that many bars didn’t carry it, in which case he ordered Jägermeister as a substi—
The shadows on one side of a narrow alleyway shifted, spitting out a demon with glowing red eyes, fangs like daggers, and a spoked tail that swished from side to side with sinister slowness. Ghost indiscriminately lashed out with one hand to catch the Wicked Sister on either side of his belt, only to remember that he’d given one of them to Charlie when his hand brushed his unadorned hip. Forked tongue flickering, the demon advanced toward him, haunches bunched to lunge, and Brandish Rose tumbled into the sunlight. Ghost blinked. The midafternoon glow turned her hair into a fiery mane, but that was the most demonic thing about her. No eyes like embers. No fangs. No spoked tail or forked tongue. Randi stopped short when she noticed the hard lines of tension in Ghost’s body, hand reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. Realizing how foolishly hazardous he must look, Ghost forced his shoulders to relax and straightened, pasting a smile on his face. “¿Hola señorita, como ésta?” Had his shirt gotten soaked in sweat during the walk here, or just within the past five seconds?
Randi stared at him with those parakeet eyes, blazing like she could see through his soul. She was not one to be easily fooled. After a lifetime of telling lies, keeping secrets, and playing his cards close to the vest, it was a trait that unnerved Ghost greatly. The smile dripped off his face like an icicle melting in the sun. Her prolonged scrutiny made him wonder at the magnitude of his screw-up. Was he tripping? If so, how badly? Had the last time he’d taken something been in the bathroom when Thorn had walked in, or had he popped a tab in the time since he’d left Cassidy in the training arena? Ghost couldn’t remember. The way Randi was staring at him, head tipped like she was listening to a music only she could hear, was making him paranoid. Looking to redirect her unspoken question, Ghost fired off one of his own. “Know where you wanna go for drinks after this? My price is two freebies, in exchange for help with your family thing.” He shot Randi a playful wink, imitating the mysterious lingo that she had used in her text. Ghost’s voice was light with humor, but he was dead serious on collecting at the end of this errand, whatever it was. His throat was dry as a dead man’s eyes.
Randi nodded halfheartedly to his request, but it was clear that she wasn’t half as excited for drinks as he was. At the expression on her face, Ghost’s blood chilled. He wasn’t used to seeing her look so serious about anything. The sweat on his back was cooling, and despite the humid haze of summer, he receded a little bit inside his jacket. Upon mention of Randi’s uncle, Ghost’s thoughts tunneled back to the muscular guy with the Viking haircut, venom dripping from his voice when he found that he hadn’t been the first one to arrive at his niece’s hospital room. Or maybe he just hadn’t liked Ghost because he was the one for whom Randi had sacrificed herself. Either way, it hadn’t been a pleasant encounter. Ghost was relieved to hear that he had a passive lookout’s role in this job. He didn’t want to get in the thick of things with Freight while Randi was conscious and watching, so the less interaction with him, the better.
“And what kind of hand shall I be lending?” Ghost asked, bubbling with irresistible curiosity. “A brass-knuckled fist or a velvet glove?” But from the guarded look that appeared in Randi’s eyes, he knew now was not the time for questions. “Ah, my apologies. Forget I asked,” he said quickly. From having countless secrets of his own, Ghost knew first-hand how valuable discretion was in a friend. Out of respect for Randi, he refused to pry into her business, much as she hadn’t pressed him when he stumbled into the alley clearly disoriented. A mystery involving Randi’s uncle and her long-dead parents? Ghost’s interest was piqued.
He had forgotten many of the details of what had happened on the night of the home invasion in which his own parents were murdered in their dining room, but he still lived with half a memory of it, like an imprint left in the carpet long after the furniture had been moved. He had remembered enough to identify and track down their assassins and kill them. Slowly, horribly. Monstrously. And after interrogation had proven futile and revenge had left him feeling hollow and empty, Ghost had decided to end his search for the assassins’ employer there. Knowing who that person was wouldn’t bring his parents back to life. It wouldn’t fill the dark void that fear and anguish had carved inside him with twin knives. And to be an enemy of his father’s, that individual was probably so well-protected that Ghost would forfeit his life in the pursuit of further blood. His ignorance might very well be for the best. Or so he told himself.
Extracting himself from his internal melancholy, Ghost pushed a mischievous grin onto his lips. Randi’s instructions were mystifying, but he trusted that, when the time was right, he would know what to do. Over the past two weeks of training and adventuring with her, he’d been learning to read her minute signals, so casual that others might overlook them. How she bounced her leg when she was bored. How she balled her fists when she was anxious and how she looked at the ground when she didn’t want her expression being seen. Like she was doing now. Her telepathic connection with Ghost wasn’t just one way.
Wanting to soothe his friend’s nerves, he snuck two fingers under Randi’s chin and coaxed her head up so that their eyes met. “Let’s go get that lying son of a bitch!” he exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm. “Oh, sorry,” Ghost apologized, seeing the warning that pulsed through Randi’s features. “Is it too early to be throwing accusations around? I guess so, huh. Innocent until proven guilty, and all. Then let’s put your uncle on trial today. How about that?” Realizing that his hand was still on Randi’s chin, Ghost removed it and hooked both thumbs in his pockets. A man with more shame might have blushed, but Ghost didn’t. He just looked at Randi with a lopsided half smile on his face, daring her to break the silence. You have a girlfriend already, you greedy motherfucker, he reminded himself. And when Randi continued to look at him with a half-formed question in her eyes, no words forthcoming, Ghost stepped back, not wanting to lead her on. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling awkward, his overabundant confidence from a minute ago fizzled away to nothing. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
 

Sanctuaryforall1

Pyrrha Nikos Lives On














Bloom




Mood: Furious

Location: Spartan Bar

Interactions: Orin






Bloom was deep in conversation with Musket, a glass of fine whiskey in her hand as he had been kind enough to share some with her. She was more than grateful that her old friend was willing to help her and was enjoying catching up with him when she heard something outside. It was a voice she knew all too well from initiation and it caused a rock to settle in her stomach the moment she heard exactly what the young man was saying. “Shit.” She gasped as she put her glass down and stood up to approach the door. Clearly Musket and Xavier had heard it too because both men looked bristled and Xavier grabbed a tire iron clearly ready to go bash the kneecaps of whoever dared to come into the gangs headquarters and talk trash. Turning with her hands up in an effort to calm Xavier the young brunette looked from the monster of a man towards Musket and took a step towards the door. “I’ll deal with this, I will get him out of here, I don’t know why he is here but I will make sure he doesn’t come back.” Her voice was soft yet firm to enforced that she meant every word of what she was saying. While she had the credit and bonds to be able to waltz into the Spartan Bar whenever she wanted most others outside of the gang weren’t blessed with such luxury. If you weren’t in the Spartans and you entered the bar you were on thin ice, if you started trash talking their wears while inside you were as good as dead. Bloom knew every single member of the Spartans had some sort of blood on their hands, she didn’t always condone their methods or their business which was why she never joined even when offered, but she did care about them and respected them.

“Make it quick Flower or Xavier will handle it for you.” Musket’s tone was fatherly but still held the air of threat to it, not directed at Bloom of course but at the young man who had made himself less than welcome.

“Thank you.” She breathed and whipped around the red under her brown locks flashing as she did so. Marching through the door of Musket’s office, down the hall, and back to the bar area Bloom had to quite literally pull Kreider back as the large and dangerous bartender was making his way towards the bar with a shotgun in hand. “I’ll get him.” She told him calmly and gave him a look in the eyes.

The man’s grip on the gun lessened a bit and he took a step back to let Bloom through. As she passed he leaned over and whispered, “Make sure he knows that if he shows his face here or if I see that snotty smirk ever again I’ll make him wish he got the mercy of the Chasm.” His eyes burned with disdain as he glared over at Orin before looking back at Bloom and softening again.

“Got it.” Bloom replied with a nod and felt her heart pick up a bit more as she noted how genuine the threat was. Moving past the bartender and towards the bar itself Bloom grabbed Orin by the arm and wrenched him out from behind the bar. “Are you crazy or stupid or both?” She hissed as she seemed to be the only one of the two of them to notice how close to evolving into a skeleton Orin had come. “What the hell are you doing here? Don’t you know this is the last place you should be?” She continued as she dragged him out of the bar and into the streets. “If you have a death wish then make it easier on everyone and jump in the chasm, don’t waltz into the Spartan Bar and start acting like an ass hat.” It was rare for Bloom to lose her kind and motherly tone that she normally held but at this moment she was furious with Orin for endangering himself in such a way and for disrespecting the Spartans. “No part of what just happened in there is funny or acceptable. That is not your territory, that is not your establishment or your supplies, those are not your friends and you are lucky I was here or they would be finding you in pieces all across town.” Once they were about a block away the instructor finally let go of Orin’s arm and turned on him fully. “Why are you even out this way Orin?” Her mint green eyes were ablaze with fury and worry as she looked the initiate over and couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have shown up there just as she was meeting with Musket. The Spartan’s were a close knit group, loyal to each other and never really fans of outsiders, she was a rare exception. Normally when fools came wandering into their bar and acted in any sort of disrespectful manner they would be beaten within an inch of their life if they were lucky which it seemed Orin was.

fraxiom fraxiom





code by Stardust Galaxy
 

Nerdy.

Nerdy
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Griffon || 18 17 || Initiate || Abnegation Transfer

Griffon was thoroughly surprised and shocked when a fry came flying out of the air and whacked him on the cheek. Obviously there was no pain, and to be fair Griffon couldn't even feel it, but it had been the act itself that had surprised him. He sat there with an almost slackjawed look on his face. Fable had thrown a chip at him? At the same time as Griffon was staring at her, Fable immediately melted into giggles and apologies, stating that she hadn't meant to get him on the cheek and had only meant to entice him to say what he had been going to say. He blinked a few times before beginning to laugh with her, getting a serviette and beginning to wipe up whatever mess may have been left on his cheek. "I'm just glad you didn't put ketchup on it." He said, noting that the serviette came back reasonably clean. "Otherwise we might have had a problem." He added, obviously not being serious. He thought about her words, she wanted him to talk about what he had just been too shy to say. But Griffon wasn't sure he was ready for the thing he had been going to say. He had been going to ask Fable whether she thought Aya would be happy with the idea of going on a date with Griffon, or whether Fable got the impression that Aya wouldn't be interested. But as he thought about it more, he wondered whether that line of thought was at all smart. He was diagnosed with amnesia, he couldn't remember things, in his past but also in his present. He would likely make a terrible partner in a relationship, he wouldn't be able to remember everything that needed remembering. He would constantly have to ask his partner questions to affirm things, he would have to write everything down and double check with them. It sounded like a lot of effort, and Griffon couldn't imagine anyone genuinely wanting to do that. Aya was very nice, she was very beautiful, Griffon thought she was incredibly talented, and she got along with his closest family members. If Griffon were being completely honest and selfish, he would admit to Fable that he liked her very much, and that he did desire a relationship with her, at least something closer than what they had now. But Griffon was not selfish, and although he was a genuine person, Candor was not his aptitude, and he was not always honest over everything. Looking up at Fable, he could tell she wanted him to finish his previous sentence, and open up. "I mainly stopped because it was silly, I started speaking before I thought." He said, hoping she would find that a good enough excuse to leave it alone. He didn't want to make Fable feel bad for him not talking to her, but he also didn't want to carry on with that conversation. Maybe it would go somewhere one day, but right now he...\

It seemed fate had other ideas. Griffon turned his head as his name was called by a familiar sounding voice. Cassidy. He turned, his warm hot-chocolate eyes alighted on Cassidy's lean frame and a smile lit up on his face. Right behind her though, as if she had been summoned by their conversation, Aya walked in. Griffon's face immediately flushed, had she heard their conversation at all? That wasn't so far from likely was it? He waved to both of them, but also found himself dragging his eyes away from Aya out of embarrassment, he was sure that if he could feel his own skin, he would be able to feel his cheeks burning. Cassidy happily joined them, and Griffon listened as they talked about what they were ordering. He could tell from the sheen on Cassidy's body that she had been working out, and he could tell from the way she was holding herself that she was in pain. His heart swelled, and as soon as Cas sat beside him he put a gentle arm around her. She smiled, happily leaning into his body as a form of comfort. "You okay?" He whispered, not wanting to make everyone else uncomfortable.
"Yes, I just had two sparring sessions that left me a bit tired." She admitted, and Griffon nodded. He gently rubbed his thumb over her arm for a second, but didn't continue to do so, knowing that it would probably eventually irritate her and cause her pain. As she asked what they had been talking about, he immediately glanced at Aya without even meaning to, and then quickly brought his milkshake forward and began to have a drink. He almost choked on his milkshake as he tried to drink it too quickly, and coughed softly into his elbow to try and clear his throat. He sent a begging glance to Fable, hoping that she would realize he was feeling hyper awkward and uncomfortable and didn't know what to do. Whether she was empathetic or enjoying his nature right now, she obliged by speaking about the simulations and art. Griffon felt relief flood him, he really didn't know what to do with his and Fable's conversation about Aya before. It felt almost wrong, now that Aya was here, and he wondered whether she would be upset that they had been talking about her. Had they been thinking about her feelings much? Or just their own? Griffon felt a little bad, he had no idea how Aya felt about him, and his feelings towards her, although true and honest, felt yuck if they were not reciprocated. That was why Griffon felt fear at admitting his like towards her. He didn't want her to feel uncomfortable at all. He didn't want her to feel bad at all.

The conversation turning to art was a life saver, and Griffon perked up a lot at this. When Cassidy mentioned tattoo's, Griffon scanned her face for more answers. He knew Cassidy couldn't get a tattoo, she'd tried before and it was too painful, it had caused her nearly to pass out from pain alone, and it had traumatized her for a while. But she seemed so calm, did she really mean to get one? He knew that physically... that was impossible. Unless... well maybe unless he was there.... They could possibly do it together. But he imagined that it would hurt all the same. He wasn't looking forward to it, but if it helped his sister feel more like herself, he would do it. "It would be pretty cool to have mine.. or Aya's art become a tattoo piece." He mused aloud, thinking back to the drawings they had been showing each other this morning on the roof. Many of Aya's drawings were beautiful portraits of people, but Griffon knew there were other drawings she had done that would make wonderful tattoos. "I would probably get one." He said, not clarifying outwards whether he meant one of his or Aya's, but himself knowing he meant Aya's. He subconsciously began to rub the leather outside of his notebook that resided in his vest pocket. Would anyone truly want to make any of his artwork into tattoos? That seemed so strange, he didn't think he was quite that good at it... But he did enjoy the simple sketches he made. It seemed almost something he didn't even mean to start doing. Originally it was simply journaling, but when you're trying to remember something... at least in Griffon's case, he found he always wanted to sketch things. It helped him remember details, or maybe it just meant his fingers and subconscious brain were busy so his conscious brain could focus. Whatever it was, Griffon had found himself doodling many times, and most of his notebooks were half journal entries and half doodles. Until he was given journals specifically for creative purposes. Now he went through journals and artbooks so quickly that he was growing quite the collection. In the dorm room there was a locker for personal effects, and his was almost entirely full of journals and art books. He had grown to love each one, many of them being the only way he could remember good memories with Fable and Cas, and many bad ones from further back in his history. Some people might have enjoyed forgetting their dark history, but when you can't remember something, you don't realize whether you would want to forget it or not, because you don't remember what it was. Griffon had heard from Cas that their childhood had been fairly awful, that much of it was a good thing that Griffon had forgotten, but he just couldn't stick with that... He didn't want to forget the bad memories. Hell... he couldn't even remember Luke, the baby that Cassidy said was their younger brother. He couldn't even remember his parents faces, their voices or how they smelt. It didn't matter if they were wicked, like Cas said, he wished he could just know them. He felt a bit twitchy in his seat at this point, as he remembered he wanted to talk to Cas about them. Now was not the opportune moment, but he would do it soon. "If people want to head off to the tattoo parlour, I'm happy to go whenever." He said. Smiling at everyone.

Interacting with: Fable Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1 Aya Wolfiee Wolfiee Cas


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Phillip Parks || 19 || Soldier/Trainer || Dauntlessborn

Phillip found himself walking in a direction he wasn't quite used to. His fingers were still playing with the paper that had been given to him by his father. It still seemed so strange. He recalled how his father had knocked on his door while he was getting changed, and had asked to speak to him. Phillip had obliged, he wasn't the type of person to refuse his father anything. He had been getting changed into his security uniform so that he could go to work, it wasn't a job he loved, but it also wasn't the worst job in the world. It meant he could protect people and try to keep peace when necessary. His father had come to him with an interesting proposition, though Obadiah should have known that by asking Phillip himself, he was only making it certain that what he said would actually come to pass. Phillip was a brave person, but he wasn't quite brave enough anymore to stand up against his father. That had been beaten out of him a long time ago. They had been different people back then, but all the same, Phillip didn't refuse Obadiah. Phillip had listened as his father explained that the initiation was close to finishing, something that Phillip was excited for, Christian would become a full blown member of Dauntless! But there was a problem, many of the trainers kept ditching, or getting fired. Obadiah explained that from the beginning, at least one trainer had died - Caspian, poor thing - at least three or four had quit or walked off without saying why - Maggie, Harper, Maverick, Val - and Obadiah had only recently just heard that Ghost had just been fired, with Warren of all people taking his place all thanks to Jeremy. However, Warren wasn't so reliable. Phillip could tell what was coming, his dad would not have come in just for a chat. It soon came to light, and Phillip wasn't surprised exactly, but he definitely had not been expecting to ever have this conversation. He had never asked to be a trainer, in fact he thought he was likely the least experienced person to do the job. When his dad asked him, Phillip agreed, but also he wondered why none of his older brothers got the job. Obadiah claimed that they were all too busy with their own lives, and Asher - who would be the only one that wasn't too busy - had down right refused. Phillip realized he wasn't the first person his dad had gone to, and for some reason that made him feel a bit better. This wasn't a punishment then. He agreed, and took the piece of paper with him, not that it was going to be very important. As soon as his dad went out of his room he got undressed from his security uniform and back into normal clothes. Wanting to look a bit more presentable than usual, he put on a white button up shirt with a black jacket overtop, long black skinny jeans (without holes for once) and then some comfortable combat boots. Donning his usual chain necklace, leather bracelet and rings, he checked himself in the mirror of his loft bedroom. Then he left.

Now he was walking the halls trying to find Bloom. He could have just text her, but he was also kind of enjoying just strolling along trying to find her like some kind of treasure or scavenger hunt. He had found Warren, who had been in the training room, and had let him know that he would be coming in as a trainer as well, Obadiah's orders. Phillip was fairly sure that Warren had definitely felt like his toes were being stepped on, but from Phillips perspective, he didn't really care. He simply asked where he could find Bloom, and Warren had said that she'd exited a while ago. Phillip was aware of Bloom's job as a bartender, so he wondered if she was still working, yet he hadn't seen her at her usual bar anytime recently, so he didn't think so. However, after asking a random passerby who had just randomly seen a "Tall woman with red and brown hair" walking towards a certain "Spartan Bar", Phillip was intrigued. What was Bloom doing at the Spartan bar? It was a notorious gang hangout, for the Spartans obviously. Phillip had only gone in a couple of times, and admittedly that was a number of years ago when he had been an idiot who was hanging out with all of the Spartan's kids. There was one particular girl, who only went by Minty. She had been a niece or daughter of a Spartan, and had brought Phillip to the bar. She had been the one, along with Coke, Joker and KJ, to introduce Phillip to drugs, alcohol, and all the other stuff he had gotten into. In fact Misty had been the one who Phillip had first slept with. A mistake he regretted now only after realizing that they had been playing him like a fool, only eager for his "Daddy's money" and not caring about him. He hadn't hated them, or felt ill will to them, but he regretted how much time, effort and love he had poured into them without realizing it wasn't being reciprocated. He had seen Minty only a few times since then, she had passed initiation easily a year before him and had gone on to high positions. She still sported her minty green hair and millions of piercings, not to mention covering her body with tattoos. He even spoke with her occasionally if he saw her. They never mentioned the past, but Phillip was always glad he had never continued a relationship with her, she was not the person he would want to spend his life with. He had seen KJ around a bit, but apparently Joker had failed initiation and become lost to the factionless, and Coke had transferred to Erudite of all places, probably returning to his actual name Cole. Phillip didn't miss them, but he did keep an eye out for Joker whenever he was doing security outside. Thus, as he walked towards the Spartan bar, he felt a mix of emotions in his gut, many of which were negative and he had long since forgotten them.


It seemed though, that he didn't have to get to the actual bar itself, as he stumbled upon the very person he was trying to reach. Miss Vernal Bloom was standing quite intimidatingly over a young boy - Orin, Phillip realized, after Bloom said it a few times - and was chiding him quite harshly. Phillip felt a bit of amusement as he leaned on a wall watching quite happily. He had never seen Bloom so angry before. Her green eyes were flaming, her stature screamed serious and threatening. Orin must have been doing something absolutely idiotic in the Spartan bar, and it was a lucky thing Bloom had been there. Phillip had recalled seeing enough people beaten within an inch of their life, there, and he wasn't sure if he had seen people legitimately just be killed there. He tried to block those particular memories out. Once there was some sort of break in the storm that was Bloom's tirade. Phillip sauntered over, making himself viewable and out in the open. "Dear me Orin, I think it's probably best if you take Bloom's advice and go play somewhere else." He said, causing both Orin and Bloom to turn in Phillips direction. Bloom's immediate look did not seem happy, but Phillip hoped deeply that it was simply left over frustration at Orin, and not a simple distaste for seeing Phillip in general. Placing a hand on Orin's shoulder, he squeezed it and looked dead in his eyes. "You have no idea what Bloom can do. Trust me. Now get out of here." He said, spinning Orin from the shoulder and clapping him on the back to get him going. Whether Orin went happily, or out of fear, or just because he'd been "Ordered", Phillip didn't know. However, he was simply glad for the boy's departure. He spun around, smiling at the Bloom who was now... less scary looking and eyeing him up suspiciously. Phillip brought his hands out in a large shrug. "Hey, it's true. Even I don't have any idea what you can do, Bloom dear. After this particular viewing I can't say I want to find out." He teased, watching as she finally began to mellow down, and looked back as her normal self. "As it turns out," He said, before she could ask him what he was doing. "I have been looking for you. I have been given what seems like the dangerous job of trainer for these initiates." He said, watching as Bloom's eyebrows perked at the word dangerous. "Well, it seems like trainers around here are dropping like flies, and I can't say I'm particularly keen to disappear, die, be fired or forced to leave for whatever reason." He said, seeing as Bloom realized that it was true, many trainers had gone. "However, it will definitely be nice to get to work so close with you." He added with a sharp wink and a playful smirk, knowing that Bloom (from his friendship with her so far) had never hated his flirtatious manner. Not since they had become friends anyhow. He knew that if he was going too far, Bloom would clip him in the ears or let him know. "I already talked to Warren, though I'm not so sure he's keen on me being around. I'm hoping that you will be happy though, I intend to bring more fun into this initiation, it's seemed a bit droll so far." He smiled, bowing extravagantly to emphasize his desire to have fun. Finally cracking a large smile out of Bloom, he grinned. "So, what do you do when you're not training the kids? Or... rather... what can we do together now? I intend to learn from you, oh great sensei." He said somewhat mockingly. As he said so, a flurry of paws could be heard on the ground, and Phillip immediately ignored what he had been saying and dropped to his knees. "Honey!" He said with genuine excitement and joy. A good sized golden lab x german shepherd was bounding towards the two, and leapt into Phillip's arms, giving him a bunch of kisses and slobbery licks which he tried mostly to avoid. After giving her a giant hug, Phillip got up, rubbing off what fur he could and wiping his face quite a lot. Honey then sat in front of Bloom, tail wagging and a happy tongue lolling out look from her face. "Honey here has been modelling with my sisters recently, but I finally have her all to myself again." Phillip said with a wide grin. He saw how Honey sat in front of Bloom, as if awaiting something and he raised an eyebrow. "Have you been feeding my dog treats?" He accused, though the nature of his voice suggested he didn't mind at all. Honey barked in reply, and Phillip laughed.

Interacting with: Bloom Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1 Orin fraxiom fraxiom
 

fraxiom

monkeying around
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
INITIATE
location
street/tattoo parlour.
mood
disheartened.
outfit
dusty pink hoodie, dark blue jeans.
mentions
bloom, phillip.
orin daithi gorman.
It was joyous, Orin thought, to become the object of a crowd's attention. He knew what he was doing when he called out his charged words within a bar that boasted such a dangerous reputation, but he just didn't care. You could call it a death wish or blind idiocy, but either way, it was the attention that he wanted, from the root. He waved at Aubrey when she called him over, offered her a cheeky smile and a wink. "Aw, you'd like that, wouldn't you sunshine?" He replied, bubbly and brimming with boisterous charm. "I wouldn't wanna ruin your date or anything. I'd steal you away in a heartbeat."

It was all fun and games until he got a real reaction, and even then, he found himself turning Bloom's rage into a spectacle for his not-so-adoring audience. Slyly, he slipped the stolen bottle into his hoodie pocket, then raised his hand to her as she advanced toward him in a salute motion, the smile not abating despite her dour countenance. "Hey, gorgeous. It's dead in here, right? I think you need some tunes. American Pie, or something. Here, I know the words. A long, long time ago, I can still rem— hey!" He flinched when he was grabbed. For the briefest of moments, Orin's painted mask fell away to reveal intense, sudden fear. For that second, his blood ran freezing cold, his stomach flipped over, and everything in his body told him to run, but once he got a hold of himself, the deviant grin came back to him. When asked if he was insane or just dull of mind, he faked thoughtfulness and then came to his conclusion: "A little bit of both on a good day," as she dragged him out, he waved to Aubrey and her date, then to the rest of the bar. "Vive la revolution, they can't take all of us!"

He didn't like the way that his body was reacting to the sudden use of force by the Amity-born woman. As the air of the city touched his face once more, he felt a pallour coming over him that betrayed a deep, unsettled nausea. He wasn't really listening to her as she spoke, but the tone was familiar enough to lay waste to his gut and strike electricity into his heart. In spite of his towering height, he felt like a child again, and he didn't like it. "Aw, are you telling me I'm banned from sweat palace? I was just about to invest in a loyalty card," he said a little unconvincingly. When they slowed to a halt, he swallowed a bit of bile that had risen from his stomach and started looking around, avoiding her eyes for fear that they'd see straight through him. "Just wandering. Is a man allowed to wander? I was just taking in the city. I have the right to roam, you know. It's my home. I can... I can, um..." Suddenly and without warning, he lost his wind. Perhaps it was because he looked her in the eyes and immediately recoiled, or because of the sheer concern in her voice.

A moment of madness came to him then. He opened his mouth to speak, to shed the lining of his mask and perhaps share a bit of truth for once: "I just felt a bit —"

Phillip's voice broke through his own. He turned to look at the man like a deer in headlights, and in that moment became aware of himself, of his feelings, and rebuilt his barricade in record time. "Yeah, I might take a leaf out of your book instead. Lurking in dark alleyways is so sexy nowadays, I'm surprised you're not having to bat the ladies away," he stepped back, brushed the crease out of his hoodie, and took a deep breath in. "Good talk, Bloom. Send my regards to Glock, or Pistol, or whatever the hell his name is."

Orin slipped away from them, and once out of sight retrieved his thieved alcohol and took a long sip. It settled his stomach at the very least, and filled him with a growing and comforting warmth. Once more, he let his feet do the deciding for him when it came to his destination, and found himself outside of the tattoo parlour before too long, contemplating. He'd never put any thought into what he'd get his body marked with before, but it felt like a decision that would be best made while a little tipsy. With this in mind, he went inside.
coded by natasha.
 

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