Realistic or Modern The Kids Aren't Alright | Main

[Elf_Ruler]

Lemon Pierce

As Lemon sat in class, she could feel her eyes drooping down. Mr. Dozer was anything but entertaining, and Lemon was supposed to be paying attention in his class. She would write what was on the board, but his monotone voice made it hard for any information to be retained within her brain. “And that is how the term force is defined. Any questions?” In that moment Lemon looked at her phone and had made it clear that she was dying in the class and one Sawyer Andrews said she was going to rescue her. What was she going to do? Sneaking her out of class wasn’t an option, “Ms. Pierce?” Lemon looked up from her phone, sliding it under her thigh, the quickest way to hide it. Pulling her pen up from under the desk.
Her innocent look of confusion as she spoke, “Yes? My pen wasn’t working.” She held it up and he turned away. Sometimes it worked to be known as a good student.

He went on in his lecture about force when a scream was heard, and the door was swung open; there stood Sawyer Andrews. Lemon was more than a little confused. What had she planned to get her free from her own personal sadness? A wild rabid animal? She was good, Lemon could never lie like that. And then she gave a fake name? Wow, she really was getting her out of class, and then the words that class was cancelled brought Lemon joy.
Until Sawyer said her name and all eyes turned to her. The quiet girl was the reason that a tall senior was getting their class cancelled. Lemon quickly scooped up her books and rushed out of her class, only tripping over two bags and saying quick apologies to those whose bags she tripped over. Once she got toward the tall blonde she smiled, “Um thanks?”

Why would someone who barely knew her help her out of class? Lemon would have understood if she chose to ignore her, but instead she saved her from what felt like death, “So, I don’t want to sound rude or ungrateful, but why did you help me get out of class?” Lemon felt so small compared to the girl, though that really didn’t take much with her 5’2 stature.
Sawyer was a pretty girl and she knew that her and Kat had some kind of history, but she didn’t really know either girl. She could see why people liked her, she had this air of charisma and friendliness that engulfed her entire self, and it just made you want to be around. For Lemon, Sawyer seemed like a good friend, she was chaotic but in a good way, in a way that was used to help others. She could only hope that the taller girl would be willing to let her tag along with her and not just ditch her once they were far away from Dozer’s class.

Mention(s): Interaction(s): KingofAesir

 

[0k_mang0]

Mathias

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  somewhat pensive

  
  

  
  

  
  

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  Parish Bay High School, helping with parade float stuff, painting or whatever

  
  

  
  

  
  

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  Astraea Dupante

  
  

  
  

  
  

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  Dazzle , Soap (Katherine)

  
  

  
  

  
  

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• home (filler tab)

Until Then

Lo'fi Boy

Matt felt himself stay very still when Astraea rested her head on his shoulder. He slowly, hesitantly, began lifting his hand. His first instinct was to pat the the soft blonde curls on the top of her head, but then he decided to just give a gentle pat or two on her forearm.

He knew Astraea was hurt by Katherine’s detachment, too, though she seemed saddened by it instead of disappointed like Matt. (he also had other... strong feelings about how Katherine deserted her two old friends, but it’s probably best not to put it in detail just yet.) It’s probably because Astraea didn’t have a single clue of what made Katherine changed. Matt had a theory of what Katherine had been doing to herself, but he never told Astraea. That sort of knowledge was a burden that he could never place on her.

Since the new school year began, Matt still hadn’t approached Katherine even after discovering she was transferring from Hartfield to Parish Bay this year, too. They shared (maybe) two or three classes together, and neither of them seemed to barely pass a glance at each other in any of them. They were complete strangers now.

There were a couple of Twitter interactions with her—felt like those were the only times that had happened so far this year—and each time Matt replied directly to her, he may have felt a tiny prick of stress. Just a tiny bit.

“I just want it to be normal again...”

Me too, he almost said. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if becoming friends with her again would be possible. Not only was Kat’s current world different from his, but it was dozens of lightyears away.

“I’d tell you trying out for cheerleading might not be a good idea, but I know you’ll still do it, anyway,” Matt said, lightly twisting a tiny part of Astraea’s sweater’s sleeve absentmindedly. “Just be careful at the tryouts later, okay? Please? I’ve lost count of the times you’ve bruised yourself from doing a cartwheel.

“By the way, have you see Kekoa’s cat anywhere? The tuxedo one, Bartho.” Technically, the cat was the family's cat, not Kekoa’s, but she did name him as a kitten several years ago—Bartho, short for Bartholomew, because... mew. His sister was a little weird as a kid, okay? Mom sent Matt a text message earlier if he’d seen Batholomew this morning. Apparently, the cat hadn’t eaten this breakfast and his food bowl was still full when it was barely noon.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[tamarapasek]

MOOD: Terrified

OUTFIT: T shirt/Shorts(School Colors)
LOCATION: Hallway/Football Field

basics

MENTIONS:

INT:
@Qwertycakes

tags

TL;DR Does Ashley Dustin? Naaaaaahhhhh

tl;dr

Ashley Park

Someone help me, it’s not healthy for me to feel this way.

.
She couldn’t stop smiling, as Dustin met her gaze. It was a ridiculously sweet gesture, and she was glad she’d put it somewhere she wouldn’t have the chance to remove it. She was so happy thag she hadn’t noticed the mental stab she’d given his heart. Not that she would’ve if she’d been paying attention.

Ashley had considered herself somebody who was different with different people. With her friends she was generally softer. With strangers she was sassier. With Dustin it was weird. He was her friend, but her refusal to consider him somebody she could win over gave her an odd ease. She cared deeply, but through him she’d began to wonder if that was the best way to handle friendships. By treating yourself as temporary.

Sureeeeee maybe she should’ve tried harder to win him over. She might’ve neglected to use the word “friend” as frequently as she did. Sometimes she wanted to. But it was a pretty lose-lose situation. He rejects her, she loses a dear friend. He accepts her, she spends the rest of her life wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

"Oh! I have Science, but you really don’t have to-" Ashley sighed, having a feeling that he wouldn’t accept her protests. At least she could say that she tried. "Don’t ever call me that again." She playfully instructed him, though she knew she needed that indirect friendzone. "I’m hoping if I don’t think of it too much I won’t get nervous,” she informed him, looking straight Ah read.

"Uh huh. You can barely carry a backpack sweetie," She kept a straight face, as if taking it seriously . That didn’t last very long, as she soon ended up bursting with laughter. “As much as I’d love to spend more time with you, my class is over there. I’ll see you later,” she remarked, sadly before abandoning him to get into the room.

The day passed by. As she told Dustin, she tried to shove all thoughts of cheerleading outside of her brain. It for the most past worked. The only point where she couldn’t deny that she was doing something that was really scary, was when she had to change in the girls locker room.

Without telling anybody it was time, she walked towards the football field. Though she had a feeling she wouldn’t see a response till it was too late, she sent a quick message to Dustin. As she reached the field, she pause, taking a deep breath to steady herself. It was now or never.

code by valen t.

 

[Soap]

MOOD: ... Sorry?

OUTFIT: Clark's oversized sweatshirt, but with jeans instead because... cold.

LOCATION: School gymnasium

basics

MENTIONS: Liz


INT: Clark

KingofAesir PenguinFox

tags

TL;DR Josie's makin' mistakes.

tl;dr

Josephine

I'm no quick-curl barbie, I was never cut out for prom queen.

...

So Claire Malkovich... had the audacity... to find an baggy sweater, ask her where was Clark so she could... return the sweater that wasn't his?

How...

what...

Josephine took a deep breath, holding it before letting it go throughout her nose.

"Yeah. Pretty weird of her." She felt ridiculous for hating a girl who was so intent on messing with her feelings for the fun of it, so what if she wanted to date Clark?

It wasn't like Josie was ever going to get the courage to tell him how she felt, and she doubts that Clark would even feel the same way-- despite Liz's accusations, Josie could say this with one hundred percent confidence that Clark Holland did not have feelings for her.

She would've noticed it by now.

Right?

Of course she's right. Liz was saying those things to just make her feel better about her own feelings. As much as Josie had tried to keep it a secret, Liz wasn't stupid and had probably pieced two and two together a long time ago. The girl allowed Clark to take the hammer from her hands with a defeated sigh, deciding to listen to him about the apples, it was another thing they had in common and it practically made her fall for him even more.

They bonded over many of their interests, but very few people had an eye for the more artistic side of things. She loved his ideas, his creativity, the way he saw everything through both eyes.

Alright, sure he was just talking about apples right now but besides that...

might be fun to work on something together in the future and Josie made a mental note to bring that up in the future. "Huh?" She said, only now registering his compliments about the overly simple and boring fruits around the float, shaking her head and rubbing at her eyes before reaching out for the few foam apples.

"Oh. Thanks I guess." Josie shrugged, she wasn't very happy with them-- or the fact that she's done this two years in a row and probably the next too. It wasn't like she didn't want to help out, it was just... didn't they get a little tired of the same theme? Okay, yeah it's an apple festival but... eh, she doesn't know where she was going with this.

She was so tired.

Josephine started to pin the foam decorations onto the side of the float as Clark instructed and continued to blink her eyes as if that'd give her a burst of energy. She worked in silence for the most part, taking curious glances over at Clark as he hammered in every nail.

No, she wasn't drooling.

She was just... appreciating. As much as everyone seen Josie as this whole... Jesus-obsessed over-achiever who always decided to take the high road in pretty much every situation.

Josie was simply a regular teenage girl gawking at the boy she had a thing for.

She'd finished her task, grabbing the paintbrush to work on top of the float, now-- near Clark but for once she wasn't overly on edge about the personal space, Josie was just... tired and she wanted to get this done and over with.

A giant apple.

Easy enough.

Or... at least, it would've been if Josephine's wasn't struggling to keep her eyes open and before she knew it.

Josie was nodding off.

She felt a brush against her hand and it quickly jolted her awake, only now realizing it wasn't one of the many foam apples that fell from the bucket full of them and was, in fact-- the paintbrush. Josie scrambled to grasp it successfully grabbing a hold of it and splattering... Clark with red paint in the process.

"I..."

Josie let her gaze travel over Clark and the red paint that'd gotten onto his clothes, hair... and face. She couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"... did not mean to do that."

Her lips were thinned, holding back a laugh that'd only found it's way to escape with a snort.

Whoops.

code by valen t.

 

[Dede]

Stu

​

Stu grinned at Oliver’s nervous rattling of facts. But he didn’t have much to contribute as far as sea turtles go, not a single fact or trivia to offer from his sorry excuse of a brain. Actually, he didn’t know much about anything at all. Sometimes when he was around his new friends, Oliver and Vered, he felt a little stupid because those two were always an endless stream of information, always talking maths or science or whatever smart people liked to talk about. And Oliver was always offering to help him with his homework. He wondered if his friends thought he was dumb, but were just too polite to tell him. Maybe Vered felt annoyed being around him, since he didn’t know Pi by heart (he knew it was 3.16 something) or always had to spend three seconds remembering which of his hands was left and which was right. Whenever he was on the spot, he could only smile his embarrassment away or make a joke at his own expense. He would rather be a clown than stupid, but there was a case to be made that he was both.

Well, at least he knew that Oliver liked sea turtles. Which was enough reason for him to like them too.

“They’re pretty cool,” Stu said, taking a step away from his locker. “Oh—what do turtles do on their birthdays?”

There was a little pause as his friends pondered the question.

“They shellebrate!”

Stu knew a few turtle jokes, at least. Here was another one. What do you call a long-necked stammering turtle with a bowl cut and crippling social anxiety?

An Oliver.

If Stu was an animal though, he probably wouldn’t be a turtle. He’d probably be a puppy or something. His dad used to say he had puppy eyes when he wanted something (like a new backpack, for example). Although... puppies can’t have chocolate, can they? Well shucks, I guess that rules that one out.

Then Oliver suggested the unthinkable. He said that was going to go to the loo alone. Stu’s eyes popped right out at the sheer absurdity of this idea, and he had to screw them back into his head.

“You’re nuts,” he said. “You’re not going by yourself, no way.”

Stu began walking expecting the nerd squad to follow.

“From now on we ought to stick together. Not after what happened at the beach. I was only gone for a second then—and then you were dying in a hospital, so we’re not having that again.”

Plus, it wasn't just the bullies they had to look out for. Herman Toothrot was on the loose seeking a new soul to steal away into the watery underworld. There was safety in numbers, and no one knew this more than the Nerd Squad. Why be one target when you could be three?

Chimney Swift Twin Fantasy

 

[Chimney Swift]

MOOD: Panicking, unsurprisingly.


LOCATION: Parish Bay High School

basics

MENTIONS:


INT:
Stu Dede
Vered Twin Fantasy

tags

TL;DR Oh great, Nerd Squad is stuck in the bathroom and they're going to miss class.

tl;dr

Oliver Dreyfuss

Quiet people have the loudest minds

Stu strangely demanded that they all follow to the bathroom as a group. Oliver blinked forcefully, tilting his head to the side, but Stu insisted, actually bringing up the very good point that the last time one of them broke away to relieve themselves, the other almost got murdered. But either way, Oliver had little choice but to acquiesce to Stu's wishes because he really couldn't wait another minute to argue with it. He nodded weakly in agreement, unable to offer any words to that effect, then stiffly paced away with the rest of the group trailing after.

Thankfully, they had the facilities to themselves. It was close enough to class time that most people were probably already at their desks... Oliver was concerned they might be a few seconds late at this rate. Maybe he should've just-- no, checking in with Stu and Vered was important. Friends looked out for each other, which is what he supposed Stu was doing when he insisted on traveling here all together. Hopefully this would be the start of a better habit for them, so that they'd never have a repeat of Monday night.



Finishing his urgent task and walking back to the faucets, Oliver caught an uncomfortable glimpse of his reflection in the dusty mirror. His own bruised face staring back at him made his hands and shoulders instinctively tense up as he fought off cringing away, instead going to rinse his hands off (Oliver was not a barbarian, despite any indication otherwise.) He took great care doing this, evidently being one of those people who spent several seconds meticulously scrubbing under their nails as though preparing to perform a surgery. "Thank you for making sure I didn't die." He said simply, for once without stuttering. He had been rehearsing that phrase for the last few seconds. Perhaps this was a frail sort of attempt at being a little humorous; it was never quite clear with Oliver. "...I have my history test now. They rescheduled it for today. It was supposed to be Monday, but on Monday there was a storm, so we're doing it today, and..." As he absent-mindedly overexplained the class ahead, he walked back to the door, with a soft glance over his shoulder as if he expected the whole group to leave together. Maybe they could walk back to their classes together, and hey-- maybe meet up after school. Stu had been wanting to teach Oliver the art of sea turtle observation on Minecraft. From what he'd heard, Minecraft would probably be up Vered's alley as well. Plenty of weird things to collect and analyze and build.

Oliver went to push the door open, but the door handle only made an odd clicking sound and refused to turn. Sighing out a frustrated exhale, he tried again. Sometimes the old doors were a bit tricky. But it held fast, so he tried again, and a third time, increasingly more frantic.
The door was locked.
Someone had come by and locked them in.

"Oh no." Oliver's voice cracked, his hair falling into his eyes as he raked his fingers over the sides of his face. "Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. No, no, no no no no..." He smacked his wrist against his head sharply as if trying to wake himself up, but kept doing it long after he should have realized it wasn't working. Unable to explain what was happening, he kept stuttering under his breath as his wrist tapped incessantly at his temple. He stood up slightly on his toes, shifting back as if to run away even though there was really nowhere to go in this cramped public school bathroom.

Oliver hated being trapped. He'd been locked in tight spaces more times than he cared to remember, and each time it felt as though his chest was caving in and he was going to drown on dry air. Having his movements restricted, be it by a hand or a knot or a lock, was just about the most terrifying thing to him. That and crabs. Also spiders. And other crustaceans and insects.

He seemed to have gotten stuck in a panicky cycle of stiff, rapid movements. Pacing the same five steps back and forth to and the door, hand still hitting his head behind his ear, half whispering and half groaning without any full words.

Out in the hallway, the bell rang.
He was going to miss the history test. Stu and Vered were going to miss their classes. Maybe no one would come open the door until tomorrow and they'd be stuck in there all night...
And somehow, as always, to Oliver it felt very much as though it were his fault.

code by valen t.

 

[KingofAesir]

MOOD: Hyped up

OUTFIT: here

LOCATION: Random hallway

basics

MENTIONS: Max and Stu



INT: Lemon Elf_Ruler

tags

TL;DR Sawyer screamed and the entire school probably heard that shit. PSA: There is no rabid animal.

tl;dr

Sawyer

I'm Georgia Peachy, believe me.

Why had she helped Lemon? Sawyer supposed it was mostly because she was in a god awful mood thanks to Katherine and bored out of her mind and causing a scene always made her feel better. Sawyer Andrews would admit it, she liked being the center of attention and whenever an opportunity came up for her to do that, she always took it. Sawyer was nothing if not dramatically over-confident and self-centered. But, outside of her obvious need for attention, Sawyer also had an affinity for using her various skill set to help people out. After all, the more friends that Sawyer could gain, the better. Friends came to her need when she needed them and she was positive that was evident in the bazillion people who had decided to tag along on the cat killer mission. Or maybe that was just because there was a cat killer in an old haunted house and that was just too cool to pass up and in Stu’s case apparently a missing backpack was there. Whatever the reason for their tagging along, it was just more friends that Sawyer could make. So, in the case of Operation Save Lemon, the motive behind it had been to gain herself another friend. Also, she was pretty sure Lemon and Maxy boy were pretty good friends and she ought to help friends of friends. With her answer solidified, Sawyer sped up her gait so that she was walking comfortably in front of Lemon, backwards at that.

“I was bored out of my mind.” Sawyer answered simply with a grin, “Besides, I like making friends and I’m pretty sure you're buddies with my boy Max.” She patted her chest and pointed a finger back at Lemon, “Any friend of Max Man is a friend of mine. And I help my friends.” Another grin flashed across her face just before she collided with something a little too fleshy to be a wall. Her head craned around to meet the stern face of Principal Bowers. Wonderful. Great. If he knew about her rabid animal trick, Sawyer was in a whole lot of trouble. She could only hope, as she stared back at his crossed arms drawn eyebrows, that he didn’t know. Principal Bowers wasn’t a very physically intimidating man. He wasn’t particularly large, in the height sense weight was a completely different matter, and his face was cherub-like in nature and if it wasn’t for his constantly drawn eyebrows and frowning mouth you might think him a kindly old grandpa. He had a devilish, and greying goatee that made him almost look like an angry biker save for the bald spot in his sandy hair and increasingly receding hairline. Sawyer was convinced by the end of the year, the man was going to go completely bald. The guy was also pretty short, at least compared to Sawyer, only standing at a respectable 5’9. It might have looked quite the sight to see an obviously terrified Sawyer standing over a round balloon of a man who looked more like an angry toddler than a notoriously strict principal.

“Care to explain what you’re doing wandering the halls, Sawyer?” Now, normally Principal Bowers called students by their last names, adding the appropriate Mr. or Miss whenever needed, but Sawyer got in trouble so often that Bowers’ office might as well be her favorite hang out spot and the two of them were on a first name basis. Well, he was on a first name basis with Sawyer, she only called him by his first name to annoy him. Bowers glanced around Sawyer, who had stepped over a little to avoid him seeing Lemon, but that had failed. His eyebrows rose a little in surprise when he caught sight of the other blonde girl.

“Miss Pierce? I’m surprised to see you hanging out with the likes of Sawyer.” Sawyer might have taken offense to that if it wasn’t a completely logical thing to be surprised about. She glanced back at Lemon, suddenly grateful she had chosen such a goody-two-shoes to rescue from Dozer as an idea struck her. Instead of attempting to hide Lemon behind her, Sawyer stepped back and wrapped an arm around the other girls’ shoulders. She plastered on a sheepish grin as she looked around the hall and spotted a band auditions poster hanging up near them. Perfect.

“Kurt!” Kurt, Mr. Bowers’ first name, narrowed his eyes even further if that was even possible and Sawyer quickly corrected herself, “Mr. Bowers! I’m so sorry to have bumped into you, you see, Lemon and I-” Sawyer patted Lemon’s head with a grin, “Are hanging up some band tryout posters for the band instructor.” A rather convincing innocent smile spread across Sawyer’s face and Bowers eyebrows lifted slightly. Maybe it was because she was with Lemon or maybe Bowers was getting soft, but it was starting to look like he believed her. But then he spotted the slight hole in her story.

“You don’t have any posters, Sawyer.” She glanced down at her empty hands looking a little surprised that she didn’t have any posters for her fake alibi. Sawyer even glanced over at Lemon’s empty hands as well, just for good measure, and snapped her fingers in faux annoyance.

“We must’ve just run out. We’ll go get some more.” Sawyer turned Lemon around by her shoulders and gave Bowers one last grin before pushing them off in the opposite direction, “Thanks for noticing, see you later, Kurt!” If Mr. Bowers hadn’t believed them, he made no move to stop them so Sawyer was going to take that as a win. Sawyer turned them down another hall as soon as she could to get them out of Bowers’ line of sight and finally stopped. Yet another wide grin spread across her face and she clapped her hands together in what could be considered a self high-five.

“I’m getting too good at that.” She looked back at Lemon, “Thanks for not freaking out. If you’d said anything he probably would have given us detention, you don’t strike me as a very good liar.” She paused, “.....No offense.”

code by valen t.

 

[Soap]

Katherine Navarro
"The road to success and the road to failure are almost exactly the same."

@Princess.Navarro has set their status to:
Don't bother trying out if you don't have the talent.

@Princess.Navarro has set their outfit to:
Gucci Feels

@Princess.Navarro has interacted with:
Hayden

@Princess.Navarro has mentioned:
Sawyer

@Princess.Navarro has tagged:
Dazzle​

Katherine wasn't about to deal with this today.

After her... argument with Sawyer, Katherine barely paid her any attention and continued through this already horrid school day, at first-- she didn't think this could get any worse until she'd heard the rain outside and she did everything not to snap right there and then. A little rain was not going to ruin cheer tryouts. She had a plan and expected to follow it through. Sorry, mother nature. You can't mess with a Navarro and their business.

Why was this labeled as business?

It's simple, really.

Katherine was basically starting from scratch, even if it didn't seem like it, this was a new school and she was focused on maintaining her reputation. That meant keeping up with her appearances. And cheerleading? It was at the top of social pyramid. Popularity is more than just creating a name for yourself. Many didn't see that. Not the way Katherine did. Every decision she made depended on how she went about it, a strategy was made for every situation.

She worked carefully.
__

Except today.

Katherine strong-armed her way into head cheerleader, it was as easy as taking candy from a few freshman. She was the one with the most experience and seniority came into play, especially when nobody older than Heather was going to be on the team. And Heather knew better not to challenge her for captain. Her friendship with Heather was questionable to others, but not to Katherine. She wasn't a minion.

Heather knew Kat was superior.

It was a shame for her own confidence.

She'd probably have more of a chance to actually be considered more than her friend if she'd had as much confidence as...

Claire.

Katherine grimaced, looking over her stature and shaking her head.

"Stand straighter."

"Bu--"

"I know you're comfortable with what you're used to, but what you're used to is setting up this team for failure." Katherine said, holding a finger up and Claire took that as the so-obvious sign not to talk back. This wasn't just tryouts. It was more than that-- it was practically practice at this point. They didn't have many cheerleaders, and as much as they lacked skill-- it was something they could easily learn. Katherine could teach a few preschoolers how to do a tumble or two with no trouble. As long as Kat and Heather were in the front? Everyone behind them didn't matter.

The girl stared down each and everyone of them, continuing down the line with her hands behind her back as if she was a veteran ordering her rookies around like they were a squad in Afghanistan instead of a cheer team in Parish Point.

"... the sooner you all learn that I'm simply just trying to make this team decent? Is the sooner you'll be able to hold a pyramid that doesn't look like a toddler's building blocks that are about to topple over with the slightest breath."

Some of the girls didn't look her in the eyes, and Katherine took that as a win. As long as they were afraid of her they'd listen, the last thing she needed was someone who'd try and be a hero. It wasn't like Katherine was taking over the world or anything drastic.

"We can do a pyramid. We've done it just fine multiple times, you're just being a bitch." Katherine rose an eyebrow towards the boy, the only boy on the team supposedly-- well, probably the only one in Parish Point who'd dare to join cheerleading. It wasn't like it was a bad thing.

But somehow, the men in this town always had something to say.

"Oh? Is that right?" She questioned, gesturing towards the field, feeling the slight dribble of rain from an on-coming shower. She just hoped it'd hold off long enough so she could enjoy this. "Show me then."

"What? Right now? But there's mud..."

"What's the matter, Austin? Afraid to get your hands dirty?" Katherine asked, mocking a pout before it was wiped off her face with a roll of her eyes.

"I'd like to be proved wrong. Go on." A shoo motion of her hands and Austin dispersed, talking to some of the girls onto the team and Katherine took that as a sign to take a break and enjoy the shit show she was about to witness, taking a seat onto the bleachers next to one...

Hayden Anderson.

"Entertaining enough for you?"

They weren't very close, she knew of him although due to his sister dating her brother. It was a whirlwind of relationships in Parish Point. Was he as intolerable as his sister though was the question? As much as Katherine wanted to believe her own judge of character and say no. She didn't truly know yet. She supposed as attractive as he was popular.

Moderately.

He was a running back for the poor, poor Parish Bay Pirates. How she was going to cheer them on? Well, it was something she'd had to get used to that's for sure.

Katherine didn't want to be on the losing team.

Although she paid attention to him when they went against Hartfield once or twice. He wasn't terrible. He had potential. Maybe he improved throughout the year she was gone, but nobody in this town did, so... why would he? "I'd say I'd get the appeal, but unfortunately for you, none of them are in short skirts... or attractive enough to pull them off." It was a tease, anyone would be able to tell.

They weren't horrifying.

At least she wouldn't have a team that hurt to look at.

It was only when they started trying was when her eyes started to burn.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

MOOD: Eh.

OUTFIT: here

LOCATION: Pizza place

basics

MENTIONS: N/A


INT: Graham, Dazzle

tags

TL;DR We're eatin' pizza, boys.

tl;dr

Genevieve

All the other kids, with the pumped up kicks, you better run betta'run.

Woah, woah, woah.

Did this dude just insinuate that she grew up here? What the hell would give him that idea?

"What the hell would give you that idea?" What? Evie was blunt. She didn't really get the whole, let's play around in circles kind of thing. It was dumb. Why not just say whatever it is that was on your mind? What's there to be afraid of? Their reply? Oh puh-leeze. Everyone in this town was afraid of each others feelings. She couldn't believe he believed that she was an apple commoner, a apple peasant, the pure rotten core of a-- you get the point. Evie wanted to be far, far away from this fruit obsessed town and everyone else in it. That part wasn't all true. She just... hated it here. It was only a matter of time before they left sooner or later, poor Graham. Nobody to completely demolish him on every game known to man.

Who cares if he won?

Evie was clearly superior in every way-- and pizza taste.

Anyway, poor everyone else when she finally gets out of this hell hole.

"But that game s--"

Genevieve rolled her eyes with every fiber of her being, her pure fourteen years of existence following this eye roll with so much force, fifteen demons were slayed, a zombie cure was found, a radioactive bomb was deactivated and Evie was the one who held all the power to do so.

So maybe she was a tiny drama queen.

Who gave a shit?

"Fine. Whatever... but if the stupid air hockey is fixed, we're playing that first"

She slid the box towards him, raising an eyebrow and waited for him to take a piece.

Evie had to admit though.... she didn't think he'd want to join her for a next time.

She didn't have a lot of friends around here. Tatum, Sawyer even... Colby didn't really count. They just saw her as some dumb kid they had to look out for. At least that's the way they made her feel sometimes. A few years younger and somehow still left out of the loop like she was a four year old who couldn't look out for herself.

All three of them had their certain ways to make her feel included but...

eh, it didn't really work all that much. No matter how many road trips, wings, and vapes were given, she didn't really feel like they liked hanging out with her.

It was dumb.

She didn't care.

"Anyway, no you crusty bum. I didn't grow up here." She shrugged, glancing down at her pizza when she realized it was just crust and she went for another slice. Evie liked the cheese and toppings, who was interested in just bread?

Boring people, that's who.

"My mom married some dude, and here we're here because his stupid job or whatever. I don't know."

Curiosity killed the cat, and she couldn't help herself from asking.

Asking politely, mind you.

"So where'd you live before here? Loser-town? I don't believe it wasn't boring. You got super excited for an arcade so like, I don't know I feel like you've never seen one before."

code by valen t.

​

 

[PenguinFox]

​

Liz couldn't help but chuckle at the question sent her way by the pink haired girl. "It's a shithole don't get me wrong, but it's like every other shithole. Nothing out of the ordinary." Brown eyes drifted to the building disdainfully. She could practically hear Ian's voice in her head praising her for being outwardly sociable and nice. It made her want to vomit. To be clear, Ian's praise for her actions was what was sickening, not the actions themselves. He always wore a stupid little half smirk when he was able to predict Liz's actions and that made her want to punch it off him. Maybe she should take up boxing...

The girl speaking again brought the youngest Bishop's attention back to reality. Her eyes moved back towards the bright pink hair as she pictured what it would look like as it faded. Her hand went up and twirled a lock of her own hair. She had considered before putting streaks in or something but doing anything besides what she already did- the bare minimum- sounded like too much maintenance. Her hand then moved over to rest on her nose ring. She fiddled with it for a moment before speaking as the pair made their way inside. "Not that you asked for the opinion of a stranger but I'm giving it to you anyway." Liz's tone was nonchalant, her attempt at ridding her mind of Ian's stupid smirking face. She wasn't the friendly type. She wasn't mean to people, she just couldn't care about the goings on that didn't involve her. The last time Liz was outgoing was when- no, she wasn't going to dwell on that today. "Whatever color you keep it as, make it reflect you. You want to be different, do pink. You want to not stand out, go dark. Don't be be indecisive about it either. Do it and own it. People can sense when someone isn't fully confident in themselves and there are those just waiting to eat people alive for it."

The two girls' pace slowed for a moment as Liz's companion peeled a flyer from a pillar. Casually, almost as if putting on a hat, the Bishop girl reached into her backpack and pulled out a small box of toothpicks. She put one in her mouth and rolled it around, a small smirk rising to her face. It was the subtle ways of breaking rules that she enjoyed most. Plus she thought a toothpick made her look pretty cool. Almost as if on cue a teacher rounded the corner. It was a history teacher that Liz had a fairly good relationship with all things considered. She mostly ignored teachers but Mr. Walker was cool. "Ms. Bishop you know you're not allowed to have toothpicks in your mouth." Liz just shrugged. "Why is that again?" "It's a safety hazard." With a roll of her eyes she took the toothpick out, broke the tips with her fingernail and put it back in her mouth. "There. Now it's no longer pointy. Are we done here Barney?" She said with an exasperated tone. The man checked his watch and began walking off. "You know that's not what I meant, but I don't have time right now. Don't let me catch you again. And it's Mr. Walker to you." A triumphant smile flashed on Liz's face. "See ya later dude." she gave him a small wave then turned back to her companion who finally introduced herself.

"And now you're slumming it with us?" Liz didn't really intend for it to come out as rude as it might have sounded. "Name's Liz." she said flatly, rolling the toothpick to the other side of her mouth. "Why the change? Wanted a change of scenery?" She picked up on Penny's cute girls comment but set it aside. She could flirt all she wanted and while Liz would appreciate it and maybe even flirt back her heart just wasn't really in it today.

The pair passed another flyer so the dark haired girl assumed it was a copy of the one Penny had taken earlier. Liz's attention was drawn to it, curious as to what had piqued the pink haired girl's interest. "You going to try out for cheerleading? Good luck. I mean that. I heard the new top bitches have taken over or something." Liz tried to stay out of that kind of petty high school drama. It was stupid, cliché, and definitely not worth her time or energy. Those types tended not to bother her anyway. Maybe it was the attitude she projected or maybe she just wasn't important enough in their eyes. It didn't really matter because being left alone suited the Bishop girl just fine. TerrorKitty

 

[Dazzle]

MOOD: panic

OUTFIT: outfit

LOCATION: Gymnasium

basics

MENTIONS:
Soap (kat)
0k_mang0 (Matt)

tags

TL;DR panicking about bartho

tl;dr

Astraea Dupante

there are so many beautiful reasons to be happy....

Astraea pulled away from Matt after a few moments. He was always there for her; she was so happy that she had him in her corner. “I’m sorry.” She said softly, Astraea’s language always revolved around touch, she hugged the ones she loved and found comfort within the arms of her friends. “I know that being touchy isn’t your favorite.” She shrugged. She appreciated his quiet nature, always feeling relaxed around his tranquil mind. Astraea had only seen Matt truly angry a handful of times.

“We’re all at Parish now, it just seems… Time for a new start, right?” She raised her eyebrows, looking at him with her dewy eyes. “It could be a great way for me to convince her we still could be the three amigos again!” She pumped her arms, twisting her body. Her fists were tight, and she wore a rather celebratory smile on her face. Astraea was almost annoyingly optimistic, despite her upbringing. She wondered how Matty had put up with it for so long, they were not similar in many ways, but despite it, their friendship worked.

Astraea’s smile dropped as Matty expressed concern for her, and her clumsy behaviors. She pressed her lips together, dropping her arms back to her side. “I am not that clumsy…” Okay, she was lying, Astraea could trip over thin air. It was a wonder that she had done well in soccer, making varsity her freshman year and all. Astraea made an effort to cover her already bruised knees with her skirt, when Matt distracted her with a different topic.

“Bartho is gone?!?” Astraea’s eyes went wide with shock. She was very close to Kekoa and that meant she was also incredibly close to the cats. Though, Astraea hadn’t spent much time with her since middle school, they still remained close. One of her few friends that she had kept even though she had ignored them during her intense schooling.

“Have you seen what twitter is saying???” Astraea barely took a breath, quickly she pushed herself off the ground. “There is a CAT KILLER!!!” She spun around, jamming her fingers into her curly hair. “Do you think he’s got Bartho?” She breathed heavily.

Astraea looked at Matt with wild eyes. She could tell just from the way he was looking at her, that he thought she was crazy. She slowed her breathing, taking a deep breath. “Okay, no wait, there is no proof of that….. I’ll help Kekoa look tonight when I come over for dinner, if he hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Will you be there for sushi night?” She smiled, taking a turn back to her regular temperament. “I can’t wait to see Kekoa out of school, it feels like its been forever since we’ve hung out.”

code by valen t.

 

[Dazzle]

MOOD: Meh

OUTFIT: outfit

LOCATION: football field

basics

MENTIONS:
@thecheerleaders

INT:
Soap (kat)

tags

TL;DR watching cheer tryouts like a creepy boy

tl;dr

Hayden Anderson

you get what you give

Hayden had been laughing to himself for the most part, he hadn’t noticed that Kat had even bothered to step away from her pawns for a moment, as they all kept working like the Sargent general of the army was going to give them another 50 burpees if they broke… Just thinking about it, Hayden realized that Kat just might do that.

Hayden let a breathless chuckle escape his lips. “Just a bit.” He smiled a winning smile. He leaned backwards, resting his elbows on the bleacher seats behind him. “You seem to have fit right into place here.” He nodded to the scared cheerleaders on the field.

He shook his head as she belittled the girls (and well, Austin) on the field, that just seemed to want to worship the ground she walked on. “There might be one.” Hayden pursed his lips, biting the bottom right corner. “But you might be right, seems like you’ve landed on the isle of misfit toys.” He sat up, placing his hands beside him. “Though, maybe you should show the team what you’re really made of.” Hayden shrugged his shoulders. “A team is only as good as their captain, if you’re not willing to get down in the mud well…” Hayden trailed off, letting his eyes travel from Katherine who stood in front of him, to the team that was considerable covered in a good layer of mud.

They looked worse off than the football team had after their run at practices. Hayden was not confident that Kat would be able to pull together a team from a sock and three bobby pins. Hayden could guess that most of them were just trying out because they wanted to be on Kat’s good side, though he wasn’t sure one existed.

Hayden leaned over, whispering in Kat’s ear. “Are you sure that Jimmy kid is even here for tryouts? All he has done is take videos of him talking to himself.” He lightly poked Kat in the side with his elbow. Jimmy hadn’t done one thing, though Hayden knew his shtick, he was trying to become one of those online personalities. Hayden had even watched a video or two of his, he did not find him remotely interesting or funny. But he gave him a follow despite it.

“I’m sure if anyone can whip the Isle of Misfits into shape, its Kat Navarro.”

“And well, if she can’t.” He paused for a moment. “They’ll mysteriously go missing.” Hayden knew about Kat, and despite her disagreements with his sister. He still found her rather, well, interesting. She was hot, and she was confident. Though he wasn’t sure that he always remembered her being like that.

code by valen t.

 

[KingofAesir]

MOOD: Snakey

OUTFIT: school uniform....sorta

LOCATION: Spanish

basics

MENTIONS: N/A



INT: Maxine Dazzle , Peter Chimney Swift

tags

TL;DR Cyrus is ready to sink her fangs into some sheep bois.

tl;dr

Cyrus

Down in the forest, with the Devil in me.

Cyrus Payne hated when anyone told her what to do. Ever. So the second her new “mother” walked into her new bedroom and handed her a black skirt and a tie she almost killed the woman right then and there. School uniforms, how absolutely revolting. Nicole insisted that she put it on and put it on appropriately since the school would reprimand her if she didn’t. When Nicole flashed her a too pitiful smile and left Cyrus to her own devices, she got to work fitting this uniform into something that fit her particular personality. She pulled a pair of scissors out of her still packed bags and sliced off the the sleeves of the white button down Nicole had given her, she pulled on a pair of ravaged fishnets over her legs before the skirt and rolling the thing until it was well above her knee and pinning it there with some safety pins. For the jacket, she pulled one of her most offensive pins off her leather jacket and placed the middle finger squarely over the logo on the jacket. She simply placed the thing over her shoulders so you could still see the now sleeveless button down underneath and slipped the tie over her neck without tying it. Cyrus grinned at herself in the floor length mirror in the corner of the room, even pulling her skirt up a little higher just for good measure. Cyrus Payne did not like being told what to do, or what to wear, or who to be so if they were going to make her wear a uniform she was going to look as hot as she possibly could while doing it. If they expelled her, so be it, at least she wouldn’t have to wear a uniform then.

Cyrus pulled calf high combat boots over her feet and stomped down the stairs two at a time. The perfectly peachy pair that had decided to adopt her were sitting at the kitchen table with plates of pancakes in front of them. Joseph saw her first when she came flitting down the stairs his eyes widened considerably and he choked on the pancake in his mouth. Cyrus gave him a sickly sweet smile and twirled around so he could get the full effect.

“I tailored it a little.” She plucked a pancake off his plate and smiled at Nicole, “You like?” Neither one of them said a word for a long while and just stared at her as she ate the pancake she’d stolen from Joseph. The first one to say something was Nicole.

“You’ll have to get a new shirt. The school won’t stand for that, young lady.” Nicole tried her best to sound stern but the woman was too grandmotherly looking with her large round glasses and ever upturned mouth to be any sort of intimidating. Cyrus had always gotten her kicks out of fucking around with her caretakers, scaring them a little even. The older ones were always the ones that freaked out the most, after all, they had probably never met someone as boldly defiant as Cyrus. She doubted anyone one in this backwoods shit hole had ever met someone quite as terrifying as Cyrus Payne and she was going to blow them all away if it was the last thing that she did.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” Cyrus stuck out her bottom lip, “I don’t have another one. I’ll just have to go like this today, they’ll understand.” She took a beat, “Won’t they?” Cyrus’ eyes sparkled with fake tears and Joseph stood up from the table, shaking his head and Cyrus watched as his beard swished along with it and wondered how mad he might be if she shaved it off one night.

“No matter. You’re going to be late anyway.” Joseph grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and took Cyrus by the arm, leading her toward the door. She turned her head and waggled her fingers at Nicole as they left, a vicious smirk plastered across her face. These people thought of Cyrus as a charity case, something they could fix with their smiles and perfectly quaffed hair. They thought they could turn her into a perfectly respectable pin-up doll before she left them, Cyrus was determined to prove otherwise.

Joseph’s Buick pulled up to the school and Cyrus grinned even wider as she watched the little uniformed sheep walking into the front doors. She climbed out of the car, leaving Joseph with a “bye-bye, Daddy” and a tone that dripped with venomous intent. The Buick pulled away and Cyrus was left alone standing in front of the posh prison. A few students walking by her starred as they meanandered by. She snapped like a dog at a boy that got a little too stupid with his eyes and he practically jumped ten feet away. Everyone else gave her a wide berth after that. Cyrus moved into the school, her hips swaying as she moved. Cyrus liked this feeling of everyone’s eyes fixed on her, the center of attention. It was exhilarating really, but even if they hadn’t been looking at her the amount of teachers who had given her a dress warning and then scampered away when she gave them her Orphan Annie sob story was enough. She’d made it through two class periods unscathed when she walked into Spanish class. Her new parents had signed her up for most of the classes and Cyrus hadn’t really had a choice in the matter, if she had she probably would’ve chosen something a little more alluring...like French. Alas, she didn’t have one and so here she was, slithering into Spanish and lowering herself into a seat in front of a girl who obviously didn’t care much about the whole dress code thing either. She had her arm wrapped around the shoulders of a rather timid looking boy and Cyrus gave them both a predatory smile.

“Well, if I’d known there was someone else with a dress code aversion, I wouldn’t have destroyed this thing.” Cyrus motioned to uniform and turned her chair completely around, placing her feet up on top of the other girls desk as she leaned back in her chair and shot a wink at the boy.

“What makes you so special then, baby?” Another grin, and Cyrus had already begun thinking about just exactly what she would do to these people should the opportunity arise.

code by valen t.

 

[Dede]

Stu

Stu was not in any urgent need to use the loo. That was before they endured the long hike down the hallway, and at the end of it he figured he might as well use it. You would think a school this size would have more toilets and not have them be so far apart. You would be wrong, since the builders of this school clearly didn’t have the bladder of its occupants in mind.

Those rich kids at Hartfield--they probably had toilets in the back of every classroom! Toilet rights for all! Private cubicles with their names written on the doors! They were the lucky ones, who did not have to pass their school days in loo-less torture, or even have to deal with a janitor who killed cats and devoured unsuspecting youthful souls. Stu hadn’t stopped turning Ivy’s brilliant theory over in his head. Her PowerPoint presentation was conclusive. It explained perfectly why the hallways of Parish Bay High sometimes stank of the sea or of seaweed. Obviously this was a sign of Herman Toothrot forever expanding his fishy dominion over the earth, and every day he grew more fins on his sides, and more gills on his neck.

For all its faults (and the potential fish-man on the loose), Parish Bay was the place where Stu had found his true calling. It was here that he obtained his many nicknames, and here that he attained mascothood, foodbankhood, and neck-tie herohood. Thus he endured his plebeian existence without complaint. By contrast, the aristocratic life of Hartfield was as foreign to him as grilled salad. It always struck him as a place filled with over-achievers and snobs and, worst of all, the likes of Ryan. Of course Stu had no personal account of what Hartfield was actually like, and no real friends from Hartfield to speak of. His opinion was grounded almost entirely in rumours and hearsay. He did know one thing though: Gienevievneve was from Hartfield, and this was reason enough to hate the whole school many times over.

There existed at Parish Bay an equivalent of Geneieveivneve, some would argue. That person was Ivy. But Stu thought this was more of an insult to Ivy than to Geineveve. Nine times out of ten he would pick Ivy’s company over Gevenve’s. For starters, Ivy was actually smart, smart enough to solve the Herman mystery all by herself. She was also nice and thoughtful to warn others about it. The same could hardly be said of Miss Gngengev.

He had heard it said that Parish Bay kids were generally dumber than Hartfielders. This theory would have merit if Ivy was the only brain at Parish Bay, but she wasn't. Far from it! It's true you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, and truer still that you shouldn’t judge a school by its dumb mascot. There was Vered who was like super smart, practically an Einstein. And then there was Oliver, who was like a walking encyclopaedia and knew everything there was to know about sea turtles. Those two alone could easily outsmart the whole of Hartfield in a battle of wits -- it wouldn’t be fair game!

But the real contest between the two schools was just on the horizon, a contest they absolutely must win. And it wasn’t a spelling bee or anything intellectual which ruled out both Vered and Oliver. This also meant that, for once, Stu actually stood a chance of being useful and finally proving his worth.

They had a good chance this year to win and right all wrongs. Their football team showed glimpses of promise (depending on whom you asked), and on top of that, Stu had just learnt that they had gotten a new head cheer. He'd talked to her briefly on Twitter, and from what he gathered in that very short conversation, she was a really nice and friendly girl. Plus, people were calling her KitKat, which automatically made them best friends. He was excited to work with her and put Hartfield to shame. So whoever the head cheer and the mascot of that other school were, they’d better watch out, they’d better not cry. Better not pout, I’m telling you why. Cos Stu and Kat are coming to town.

He was busily thinking these things to himself in the mirror when Oliver started talking. Surprisingly his friend wasn’t stammering at all, and Stu chuckled at this progress with a hint of pride.

“No one will give us trouble,” he reassured Oliver, running his hands under the tap and then flicking the water playfully at Vered. “Not if we have each other’s backs. And I’ve got your back, so you don’t have to worry. And Vered, he's got my back. And he's smart, so we'll never get in bad situations like before.”

No sooner was this said than Oliver plunged into one of his “oh no oh no” episodes, fumbling at the door. At first Stu thought Oliver was just kidding, but then he remembered who Oliver was. “Kidding” was just not in his vocabulary.

So maybe he just forgot how a door handle worked.

“Here, come on. Let me do it.”

He stepped up to the task and failed at it. You could see the calm of his face wash away in an instant.

“It is locked!!!” he gasped in horror.

He hadn’t quite reached Oliver levels of panic, but he wasn’t far from it. One and one name only ran through his mind:

Herman Toothrot.

Stu pulled the handle with all his little strength. All it did was make him feel very tired and there was a good chance he might break an arm trying. But the urgency of the situation was not lost on him. They needed to escape and fast, before… before...

Chimney Swift Twin Fantasy Mentions Soap Dazzle Dak

 

[LittleWolfie]

Madi Lexington-Montgomery


To anyone other than Madeleine Lexington-Montgomery, it would probably have been obvious why Megan had picked the little golden girl to go and spy on the Parish Bay cheer tryouts; however, Madi was Madi, and that meant she had a special kind of naivety about her that came from her constant need to see the good in people and please those around her. As a result, she didn't see that Megan chose her because she didn't want to be shown up in front of the fresh meat by the squad's top athlete.

Still, whatever the case, here she was hidden round the side of the bleachers at Parish Bay watching as her old captain became captain of her the team who used to be her rivals. To be fair, it most definitely didn't surprise her that Kat had made her way to captain instantly, it was clear from the state of the Pirates squad that Madi's former captain was clearly the most talented one there cheer wise. It might even be possible, the way she was hitting the ground running, for Kat to whip this squad into shape. Well, that was Madi's opinion anyways, others may have a different opinion.

Hopefully Megan would be happy when she next saw the golden girl though since she was taking lots of pictures and videos of their rivals as instructed, even if it felt a bit wrong really.

She just kept telling herself it was what she needed to do.

Mentions: Soap (Kat)​

 

[Chimney Swift]

MOOD: ????

LOCATION: Parish Bay High School

basics

MENTIONS:
Lemon

INT:
Stu Dede
Vered Twin Fantasy
Oliver @me



--------don't type anything after this comment--------



[/COMMENT]

tags

TL;DR A janitorial rescue mission of some stranded dorks

tl;dr

Janitor Toothrot

Most of the world is covered by water. A fisherman’s job is simple: Pick out the best parts.

Herman Spindle was better known to the children of Parish Bay High School as Herman Toothrot. The Bathroom Phantom. Lord Cthulhu.

He smelled perpetually of seawater. His gaunt frame stood at an imposing six-foot-four. He wore workman's clothes that looked as though they dated back to the school's founding. Given his advanced age, it was possible he had been working in the building for all those long 50 or so years. He seemed, though, like a person who had never been young. That he had appeared one day on this earth already as grizzled and grey as the damp cobblestone paths.

This was a sort of man who looked very out of place in the hallways of a public high school. More suited, perhaps, to places of darkness and desolation: the shadows of an alleyway, or a lone boat on the foggy Atlantic waters. Maybe some lost kingdom of eldritch horrors at the bottom of the ocean.

But no, Mr. Toothrot was a high school janitor. A man of the mop. The only dark kingdom to which he held the keys was the boy's locker room. He was only ever seen one other place: the wharves of the beach before the sun rose, shuffling across the dark boardwalk with a net of freshly dead sea animals. He lived down by the water in one of the older neighborhoods, in a house with peeling paint, caged by collapsing picket fence. Rumor has it that he was more than wealthy enough to renovate the place, but simply enjoyed the shabbiness of it all.

A veritable cryptid was he. The subject of many an urban legend or schoolyard ghost tale.

He spoke seldom, and the things he said often held ominous, foreboding, and terrifyingly accurate omens. One day last year, he turned to one timid freshman Oliver Dreyfuss and said "Mind the floors, boy. You've got sea-legs like you'd spent a decade asail." Not a half-second later, the poor lad slipped over the freshly mopped floor and landed so hard on his elbow he didn't move the arm right for a month. This bore a lesson to all, to always heed the warnings of the mop-wielding hallway ghoul.

Probably the most haunting thing about this incredibly surreal man was his inexplicable ability to appear at the scene of a mess in dead silence, suddenly appearing mopping the halls as if he'd apparated there by magic. Nobody could say with certainty that they'd actually seen Herman fully walk from one place to another without vanishing out of sight into a corridor.

Today, Wednesday, September 11th, was a typical grey and blustery New England autumn afternoon. Intermittent rain showers pummeled the worn-down roof of Parish Bay High, and yet again the ceilings were leaking from the ancient decrepit pipes. The ominous janitor had been milling the halls. mopping the puddles and placing the yellow plastic "Caution: Wet Floor" signs, when he had received a tip from a wandering blonde that a trio of boys had found themselves trapped in the second-floor bathroom.

Luckily, the girl had come to the right cryptid. for it was he who bore the keys to all of Parish Bay's most damp and desolate areas. Locker rooms, restrooms, storage closets, basements... everywhere there was mildew and moisture.

For such a towering spectre of a man, Toothrot moved silently and frighteningly quickly. Wielding his mop and keys, he'd ascended the staircase and wound through the halls to the set of doors leading to each bathroom. As it was told, the door marked with a trousered stick figure was locked tight and some insolent student had jammed the keyhole with a wad of chewing gum. Luckily, Herman was a man armed with many tools for such unsanitary tasks. Using a small chisel and a bleach wipe to unstick and clean the lock, the door was clicked open. There was indeed a small flock of boys inside, all of them small and jittery and obvious targets for random acts of cruelty such as what had occurred. Tbe tallest of the three, pacing back and forth like a prisoner awaiting the gallows, gnawing his left hand and breathing in hitching coughs. The smallest, the boy who offered chocolate to everyone he passed, was only somewhat calmer until the shadow of Toothrot fell over him, at which all of a sudden he looked a hair's breadth from passing away on the damp tile floor.

For several seconds there was an awful, droning silence.

"Out'you go. You get on to yer educations, aye?" Toothrot spoke with an unplaceable accent that sounded like something nobody had spoken in centuries. Like a pirate, an 18th-century farmer, a bus stop vagrant, and a werewolf all rolled into one. His mouth hardly moved when he spoke, his eyes staring unblinkingly and almost blindly forward as if he were sensing them through some means other than sight.
The janitor did not address the fact that the last class of the day had begun fifteen minutes ago and all three boys were now late. Instead he shifted the mop to his other hand, holding it upright like a spear, and gave a curt side-nod before stalking soundlessly back into the hall like a very tall ghost
By the time the boys escaped their mildewy prison, Toothrot had vanished into the shadows.

code by valen t.

 

[Chimney Swift]

MOOD: Mind-boggled

LOCATION: Hartfield Academy

basics

MENTIONS:

INT:
Cyrus KingofAesir
Maxine Dazzle

tags

TL;DR
Peter tries very hard to make polite and casual conversation with two very assertive girls.

tl;dr

Peter Elliott

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Just as he was starting to get into a rhythm chatting with Max, another girl sauntered into the classroom and slumped into the seat in front of them, and Peter couldn't help but be a little gobsmacked by her appearance. He almost didn't recognize the school uniform with all the... accents the girl had added to it. She basically looked like Britney Spears in that music video that his mother said was 'plastic junk racket'. Okay, maybe he'd seen that 88,000 times anyway. Browser incognito mode was a blessing upon mankind. No helicopter parent could ever detect his sub-par taste in music now. Before he could avert himself from staring, the girl had scooted her chair around to face him and Max. Peter was once again lacing his fingers in his lap and focusing very hard on keeping his eyebrows relaxed and facial expression somewhere between neutral and positive.

The new girl started talking. Here we go.
She was the only one so far who commented on the fact that Max had neglected to wear the assigned attire. Peter certainly wasn't ever going to say anything about it.
Then she looked at him. He smiled and waved ever-so-delicately, like the queen of England, hoping she didn't see the absolute panic behind his eyes.
“What makes you so special then, baby?”
Special? Peter's face fell for half a second before he picked it back up in his usual polite Duchenne Smile.
"Oh, me?"

3 seconds. That's the maximum amount of time one can mull over a response before the pause becomes awkward.
Peter tried to fill the space with a quiet, discomforted chuckle.
What he wanted to say was nothing makes me special, but that would make him sound like a depressed nihilist. And if he lied and pretended to be more special than he was, then he'd be a disingenuous ass-jacket. He had to say something honest, but not too honest. The amount of tightrope walking he was doing to answer this question should have landed him a spot in Cirque Du Soleil.
3 seconds up. Time to answer with whatever blundered out of his mouth first.

"Well, I'm top of the class in Honors World History II." Fuck. Bad answer. Now he sounded like a smartass nerd. "...and I've got a guinea pig. His name's Edward. He's a real charming gentleman." Okay, that was a little better. Kind of dorky, but genuine and just unique enough to be noteworthy without being weird.
But wait. Now the metaphorical ball was in his conversational court.

He turned back to Maxine, who now felt like an almost familiar face... at least by comparison. "So," he began, mostly to Max but keeping the question open enough that Cyrus could also answer first if she wanted to. Peter wanted to be inclusive. "Who's excited for the Apple Festival? Funny story: it's on my birthday this year. You know, it's usually like a week ahead, but I guess the growing season was earlier this year or something. Agriculture isn't really my thing, haha. I'm more of an art guy..." He got a little overconfident with the last bit and suddenly felt like his heart had astral-projected through his chest. God, would they think he was like... talented or something? Because he wasn't. Well, he wasn't terrible at drawing, but he mostly did it to pass the time doing his homework. A good doodle break did wonders clearing his head. But now he was scared they'd think he was Van Gogh and demand to see his portfolio.

He shrugged casually, resting his chin in his hand in a pose he hoped read as calm and nonchalant. This was like a friendship audition or something: if he wanted these girls to ever talk to him again, he had to not weird them out by acting all nervous. That shit just wasn't pretty.

code by valen t.

 

[Elf_Ruler]

Lemon Pierce

Have you ever felt like the world is the most confusing place? Like people don’t make sense? In that moment it was as if Lemon couldn’t understand people. Why was everyone acknowledging her? She was a little more active on social media, but she had been friends with Max, she Had been friends with Tae, and she had always been friends with her number one, day one bestie. But Parish had always kept her hidden, as if she was just passing through. Now, now it was as if she couldn’t even attempt to hide from Parish. Her head only tilted slightly as Sawyer spoke, the taller girl lived such a different life from her, one that seemed to be more on the edge, more full of adventure. Outside of the walls of comfort and yet she acted as if nothing fazed her and everything rolled right off of her. How was she able to be like that? How did she have so much confidence but not let it overtake her and corrupt her as it had so many in the town before?

It was in the moment when Principal Bowers arrived that Lemon could feel her heart pounding, as if she was going to explode right in front of him. She had never gotten in trouble before and now she was with Sawyer and Bowers knew her by first name. What trouble had she landed herself in? Couldn’t she have said that Dozer let her class out early? Couldn’t the truth have worked? Anything but a lie about…band?! Deep in her chest Lemon could feel the panic seep through her being, seep so deep into her bones that she could barely contain the shaking that wanted to escape. She was grateful for Sawyers arm around her shoulders. She could concentrate on the feeling of human touch and distract herself from the fear of getting caught. To distract from the fear of detention and then from the inevitable lecture that would come from her father. She hated trying to explain herself to him because he never wanted to hear her excuses and she had learned to keep most of her opinions to herself.

As they walked away from Bowers Lemon had zero clue as to what Sawyer had said until she realized the words were directed at her. Her face scrunched up just a little as she looked up at the girl that could probably squish her with one arm, “I am a good liar. I just don’t see a point in it. Couldn’t we have said that Mr. Dozer let the class out early and then blamed Clair? Who would Principal Bowers believe? Me? The model student who wears a halo or Clair?” Lemon knew how adults saw her so why shouldn’t she take advantage of that knowledge, it never hurt anyone and she only every used it to help others. Lemon could only hope to seem intimidating, even though she knew Sawyer had no concerns as to if Lemon could lie. Sawyer was cool and Lemon was…herself.

Mention(s): Interaction(s): KingofAesir

 

[Dazzle]

MOOD: Ecstatic

OUTFIT: outfit

LOCATION: pizza place

basics

MENTIONS:

INT:
Soap (evie)

tags

TL;DR eating pizzaaaaa

tl;dr

Graham Moore

can I go home now?

“Didn’t you just??” Graham furrowed his eyebrows, thinking about what Evie had actually said. “Oh… You… Right…” Graham had absolutely heard her wrong when she had said ‘didn’t you grow up in this hell hole’ he had heard ‘you didn’t grow up’. Yeah… Graham needed better listening skills, if only his ability to listen was as good as his ability to play arcade games.

Graham loved dance dance revolution, he was extremely coordinated and found that finding the arrows he needed to press at the right time, extremely easy. And it was fun, as the levels increased, he was expected to go faster and faster. It was a bit of a challenge, though he never played it the way that the cheesy kissing booth movie played it. That was just stupid, there was no way, anyone could hit the mark on the right time and do all those fancy moves.

“YES!” Graham threw a fist into the air. “It’s a deal.” He reached out a hand to shake on it, but was only met with the box of pizza being slid over towards him. He picked up a slice from her half, he brought the pizza to his lips, wiggling his eyebrows at Evie before he took a bite.

He mulled over the tastes in his mouth, the peppers were rather bland, they didn’t seem to add much to the authenticity of having pizza, really he felt like most of the vegetables, are olives vegetables? Didn’t taste like much of anything, though he did like the spice the red peppers added to the pizza. Graham plopped the pizza down on the plate in front of him. “You know.” He swallowed. “It’s not bad.” He rested his elbow on the table, throwing his hand out palm up. “But, it doesn’t beat the originality of a good, old fashion cheese, pizza.” He chuckled, lifting the pizza up he took another bite. “However, you might just convince me to branch out. Give some other pizzas a chance.”

Graham looked offended as she referred to him as a crusty bum, he almost made it a known point that he did in fact, wash his bum, and it was not crusty. But he figured that would just give her more ammunition against him, and he’d rather not be bullied for taking something just a bit too literally.

“That stinks.” Graham shrugged as he interlaced his hands together in front of him. He stared down at the palms of his hands. He really didn’t know how to deal with the idea of broken families, he was lucky, he had grown up in what seemed like a perfectly average, white collar family. His parents loved each other, and he had two older siblings, making him the baby of the family. What else could he have every wanted.

Oh right, to leave this town and go back home.

“Well…” Graham wasn’t sure that Evie would of ever heard of his hometown. “I grew up in Anchor Bay, it’s a small town, like this one. By the cape..”

“Both my siblings came to school here, at Hartfield.” Graham looked up from his hands and at Evie again. “I didn’t want to come. But, legacies I guess.”

Evie changed the subject rather quickly, back to arcades, something Graham could handle. Something that didn’t feel so painful. “I haven’t ever been in an arcade that big, we had a little one with a handful of games at home. It was my favorite place to go on the weekends, next to the movies."

“Though, there wasn’t much else to do besides that.” He chuckled. “What about you? Where were you before here?”
[/COMMENT]

 

[Soap]

Katherine Navarro
"The road to success and the road to failure are almost exactly the same."

@Princess.Navarro has set their status to:
Don't bother trying out if you don't have the talent.

@Princess.Navarro has set their outfit to:
Gucci Feels

@Princess.Navarro has interacted with:
Hayden, Madi

@Princess.Navarro has mentioned:
Harper, Heather

@Princess.Navarro has tagged:
Dazzle LittleWolfie​

Well, wasn't that the most backhanded compliment she'd ever gotten. Although she's aware he didn't mean it as an insult, Katherine found herself with an eyeroll she couldn't control-- not to mention the grin that appeared onto her lips soon after. Hayden was the only Anderson she enjoyed, he wasn't a pushover like his sister and thankfully, he didn't date her brother neither. It's no secret that Katherine and her brother didn't have the best relationship, but that didn't mean she wanted him to end up with an airheaded façade of the girl next door who happened to follow Sawyer around like a lost puppy.

"Mm. Misfits maybe. Let's just hope they're not broken." Kat glanced back at him as he was on the seat behind her, looking up from the difference in height that were the bleachers.

"Nobody likes broken toys."

She said with a raise of her brow, sighing and fighting the urge to put her face in her hands at the ridiculous scene happening in front of her. Austin was pleading with Claire to trust him long enough to hold her up, and one of the younger girls had slipped onto the mud below because she most likely didn't have the right shoes for traction. She had to admit-- at least he had humor. They had another thing coming if Katherine was going to show off for them and ruin her shoes. No, she wasn't the typical rich girl who cared about her shoes more than everything.

But she didn't have to prove herself to this disaster of a cheer team. She'd be able to show them up anytime, just not today.

Katherine didn't need another inconvenience today.

At least she had a distraction from the so-called team that was practicing. It was nice to have something else to focus on. She expected Hayden to be... a little different. However, she didn't expect him to suddenly lean down, whispering about someone she hardly knew-- or care to. Katherine took a breath, deciding to ignore the intrusion of personal space. Merely shrugging at the mention of YouTube star wannabe Jimmy Tran. The truth was, as incredibly irritating the boy was, Katherine found it easy to look the other way. Jimmy somehow had found himself rather invested in Heather, while Kat didn't like it-- at least she wasn't the one he was bothering.

She knew of Hayden's teasing, his words had made her feel like a villain in a children's book. But Katherine didn't find that insulting, she always had a thing for the villains. Their determination was stronger than the protagonist.

And they always lost. Sure, the whole point of a... book like such was to have a good ending.

It just wasn't as realistic.

Sometimes, the heroes lose-- sometimes, the heroes don't have the drive the villains do.

And the way that the heroes with is utterly ridiculous, it's luck.

Pure luck.

Perhaps Katherine was jealous of the storybook characters. Those characters had everything handed to them while Kat worked for what she wanted. Granted, the work had become much easier to manage. But that's only because she put everything she has into who she is today.

A wolfish grin appeared onto her lips moments after, deciding not to humor him any further with his thoughts. While it was appreciated in her own way, not everyone needed a pat on the head. Katherine had enough pets.

A flash of light from the corner of the field had caught her attention, and her gaze snapped to the direction it was coming from.

Speaking of pets.

"Great."

This time? Katherine actually put her face into her hands for a moment, taking a deep breath before sitting straight up and glaring the girl's way. Katherine rose her hand and a single, perfectly manicured finger beckoned the spy over. Of course Madi would be here, after hearing about Megan's new position, it was only a matter of time before Megan had found out that Katherine was back in town. And that meant her having competition against the lowly Parish Bay cheer squad.

Once Madi had come over, Kat crossed her arms, looking her over with a cocked brow.

"I didn't know you've taken up paparazzi. I'm back for a day and already I'm having a photo-op?" The brunette didn't back down, instead staring straight into Madi's eyes. She was always a simple one to... 'order' around. Madi just simply craved validation from her peers-- or, she was genuinely daft enough to believe that her kindness should be spread everywhere, successfully taken advantage of. Now, Katherine didn't have a problem with taking advantage of Madi.

But Megan?

No.

Absolutely not.

Katherine wouldn't allow it.

"I want an explanation-- and not a lie. You answered to me first, not your newly sad excuse of a captain."

So much for ignoring anymore inconveniences.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Dazzle]

[/COMMENT]

MOOD: neutral

OUTFIT: outfit

LOCATION: hartfield

basics

MENTIONS:
NA

INT:
Chimney Swift (peter).[/USER]
KingofAesir (cyrus)

tags

TL;DR clase de espanol

tl;dr

Maxine Rhodes

she wears darkness, like some wear the little black dress

Maxine turned her attention to the girl who had just walked in, she was obviously new and not because she smelled like fresh meat like most newbies came in smelling like. The way that this dark-haired girl walked into class, well she walked in like she already owned the place. The no care attitude vibe she gave off, well Maxine could easily say she was drawn to it.

“Well it sure is a statement.” Maxine tilted her head, removing her arm from around Peter’s neck, she leaned forward onto her desk resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “Might as well make it your own if you can.” Maxine eyed the pin that had replaced the Hartfield logo, before returning her gaze to brunette’s eyes. “Mine just happened to still be soaking. Though, I’ve already visited the principals office because of it.” Maxine shrugged resting her arms in front of her on the desk.

Maxine let a small chuckle escape her lips as Peter waved delicately at the new girl. “So what’s your name?” Maxine raised one eyebrow, watching the girl in front of her rather carefully.

Peter was definitely interesting to say the least… Well that wasn’t actually the truth. He really seemed to be struggling with the question that the new girl had asked. Pete was anything but interesting now that he was explaining everything in his life in a matter of a few sentences. Even so, Maxine felt like there had to be more than he was letting on. Someone that just grew up too… Closed off from the world, who hadn’t yet experienced what life was really like.

“Well that’s fun.” Maxine had no interest in the festival, it was something she looked forward to when she was a child, the moments that she got to share with both her dad and mom. Though it was mostly her dad who would take her. Her mom was always working, or away on some binge episode. Now she just saw the festival as something to despise. Though, causing some mischief to make the festival maybe run, not as smoothly as it could, that seemed like fun.

The memories that she had at the Apple Festival were good memories, they reminded her of better times, and that was what made them so much harder for her. That was what made those good memories so torturous.

Maxine let out a little chuckle, Peter seemed so unsure of himself that she wasn’t even convinced that he knew what a hobby was. “The Apple Festival isn’t really my scene… But I hope it’s a good birthday.” She furrowed her eyebrows looking back to the new girl. “So, what makes you special? Just being new isn’t enough in this town to warrant you a crown.”

code by valen t.

 

[KingofAesir]

MOOD: Giddy

OUTFIT: here

LOCATION: School gym

basics

MENTIONS: Claire Malkovitch


INT: Josie Soap

tags

TL;DR Clark will do literally anything with Josie and it'll be fun.

tl;dr

Clark

See the good in everything.

“You’re welcome!” Clark beamed over at Josie with his too perfect teeth. Too perfect for except a bottom tooth on the left side that was a little chipped from a baseball slamming him in the face. Clark went back to his hammering with his only thoughts being of hammering and how much fun they were going to have at the Apple Festival. There was also the tiniest little sliver of a thought about Claire and how she had obviously lied to Josie about him leaving his coat at her house. He couldn’t quite understand why she would lie to Josie about that. At least, he knew about the whole Claire liking him but he thought he had made it clear that he didn’t feel the same way. Contrary to what most people might believe he wasn’t that oblivious and Claire had definitely tried to make advances while he was over at hers. But Clark was positive he had been very clear in the nicest way that he didn’t like her. After all, Claire was kind of mean and he most definitely saw that. Clark did not associate himself with rude people. Ever. Never ever. So sure, he’d help her with her homework but that was as far as that relationship was gonna go.

“I like your hair up like that.” Claire was a little close to him and Clark kept having to scoot away to put a respectable distance between them, but she kept getting closer. Her book wasn’t even in her lap anymore and then her hand was on Clark’s thigh and he was having to push it away.

“You lost your book. Come on, let’s finish this, there’s only two more questions.” Clark had really been hoping they would finish this fast so that he could go to the church to help out Josie. But Claire had made this take so long that he doubted he would make it in time.

“Math is boring, Clark. I want to have fun.” Claire grinned and scooted even closer to him. Clark was done. She wasn’t listening to him. Clark quickly scribbled on the last of the answers and hopped up from the bed.

“There you go. Done. I gotta go, gotta help my dad out at the farm.” And he was already gone before Claire could protest.

Clark was pulled out of his reverie by the feeling of something wet splashing across his face. He looked over at Josie, who was wide eyed and looked a little more than guilty. It was then that he realised it was paint splashed on him when he looked down at his clothes and saw the red stuff all over his shirt.

“You’re sorry, huh?” Clark put down his hammer and reached over into Josie’s paint bucket as slyly as he possibly could, “I don’t think you’re sorry at all, Josephine.” He reached up and ran his paint covered hand down her nose and then flicked the rest of it on her. Josie blanched at him and then they were in the middle of a paint fight. At some point they ended up on top of the float and were giggling like mad. They were also getting paint everywhere. It was alright, abstract art was in fashion anyway and Clark had always liked splashing paint everywhere. Clark ran to the very end of the float trying to escape Josie’s brush and jumped off of it to the ground.

“Catch me if you can!” Clark stuck his thumbs in his ears and stuck his tongue out at her. Josie went to launch herself after his but slipped on some still wet paint and came flying uncontrollably right at Clark. He reacted quickly, football reflexes helped sometimes, and was able to catch her with his hands before she just blasted him over. Unfortunately, Clark wasn’t prepared for the sheer force of Josie and was toppled over anyway. His back hit the court with a thump and he groaned a little and let out a laugh before he realised Josie could be hurt.

“Oh, oh, are you okay!” Clark looked over her with a knitted brow of concern as he awaited her answer.

code by valen t.

 

[KingofAesir]

MOOD: Snakey

OUTFIT: school uniform....sorta

LOCATION: Spanish

basics

MENTIONS: N/A



INT: Maxine Dazzle , Peter Chimney Swift

tags

TL;DR Cyrus is ready to sink her fangs into some sheep bois.

tl;dr

Cyrus

Down in the forest, with the Devil in me.

The boy was cute, shy. The way he rambled on indicated that he was more than a little nervous. Cyrus watched him ramble with a curious glint in her eye, he wasn’t her type but she could see how someone might like the kid. There was something….charming about a small town boy with his nervous ramblings and little quirks. Honors. A smart guy, huh? Smart guy plus guinea pig equals total dork. He’d be easy to control. Cyrus shook away her thoughts once Peter had started in about some Apple Festival. Oh good god. An Apple Festival? Really? She’d seen the sign on the way into town with it’s apple themed decoration and all too peppy “Welcome to Parish Point, Home of the World’s Best Apple Pie!” Cyrus almost died of clicheness when she saw it. She could really use some apple pie right about now though. There would probably be some at this apple festival. Maxine was talking and pulling Cyrus out of her apple pie day dream with a question. A question she didn’t really give her any time to answer before she was launching into a quip about the Festival not being her scene. Cyrus found it hard to believe that an Apple Festival was any self-respecting teenagers scene.

This whole town was like something out of a movie. It was near impossible to believe that any of it was even real. Her parents were entirely too forgiving, too nice. These kids here were too comfortable in their white picket fenced in houses and school uniforms, save for maybe Maxine. Everything seemed a little too perfect. And places that seemed perfect were always hiding a dark and not so perfect secret. Cyrus was determined to figure out how to crack the shell and dig out the gooey insides of this clam of a town. Clams. Disgusting. Cyrus shook away her thoughts and focused back in on Maxine.

“The name’s Cyrus.” She answered cooly leaning forward on her legs, “And I’m not special, darling.” Cyrus sat up again, grinning like mad, “I’m extraordinary.” She laughed, pulling the jacket off her shoulders and leaving them bare.

“I’m from Texas, ya see, and Virginia, and Georgia last. Now I’m here, gracing you with my presence.” If you paid attention to it, you could even hear the twang in Cyrus’ voice. She’d been born in Texas where her family had died and even lived on a farm in Georgia for a while so the accents might have rubbed off on her a little.

“So, Apple Festival? What kind of small town shit is that, huh?”

code by valen t.

 

[Chimney Swift]

MOOD: Held together with prayers and scotch tape

LOCATION: Hartfield Academy

basics

MENTIONS:

INT:
Cyrus KingofAesir
Maxine Dazzle

tags

TL;DR
Peter tries very hard to make polite and casual conversation with two very assertive girls.

tl;dr

Peter Elliott

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Once again Peter got the nerve-wracking feeling that he was being analyzed. Scanned for flaws like a metal detector or something. He just kept smiling through the palpitations.
New girl's name was Cyrus. What a cool name. Much cooler than Peter. Peter was a church boy's name. Cyrus was a name a punk rock kid who drank behind the school would have. So cool. So darn cool. She seemed to think so too: extraordinary as she put it. And she was from Texas, and apparently had traveled far across the American South before landing in Parish Point. Peter, who had only ever lived in the confines of this tiny coastal New England town, couldn't help but breathe out an astonished "wow..."

Luckily, the two didn't press into his slip about being an artist. Instead, Maxine switched gears and commented on the Apple Festival. Not really her scene, apparently. Peter couldn't see why: what wasn't to like? Caramel apples, fun little games, time away from home, being mostly unsupervised for a whole afternoon... it was always one of the high points of the year for him. Maybe she just wasn't that into apples. Cyrus, though, wanted to know more. Perfect. Here was something Peter was actually well equipped to explain.

"Oh, the Apple Festival? It's an annual thing that's been a town tradition since forever, I think. It's actually lots of fun. There's free food, and food that isn't free but is really good so it's sort of worth it, you know? And a hayride, and some games. People sell art and crafts and there's live music and stuff. There's a parade. The high school kids decorate a float. I usually help out, but like... gotta learn Spanish, haha. Anyway, it's just a good time. You'd like it. A good way to settle into the town, I think." Proud of his little sale pitch for Parish Point's most iconic event, he seemed to settle back a little, leaning forward on his elbows and alternating polite eye contact with occasionally flicking his gaze to the clock on the wall. Cyrus was new in town. That much was clear. So even if she was a little brash (to put it lightly), she was probably still feeling a little out of place. This was something Peter deeply sympathized with, despite being a native Parisher. He wasn't exactly the most... integrated. Not that he was an outcast or unpopular, but he wasn't popular either. No one really minded him, but the truth was he only had one real friend, and everyone else just sort of politely tolerated him.

He knew it could be worse. Way worse. There were kids at Hartfield who he knew were getting mistreated, sometimes badly, and Peter, unfortunately, had to admit he never did much to help. He was a bystander. Nothing more than a bystander. All he'd ever been, really. This was why no one really knew him. He was just standing by waiting for people, and no one ever really came.

...Well, except for today.
Today he had some very interesting company. And as exciting as it was, he had butterflies in his stomach. No, not butterflies. Bees. Very nervous bees.

code by valen t.

 

[lion.]

MOOD: sad again what a surprise

OUTFIT: - FINALLY IK

LOCATION: Parish Point Local Diner

basics

MENTIONS:
Elf_Ruler

INT:
Dazzle

tags

TL;DR

tl;dr

Zachary Lee

Surf's up.

“Only coming, so I don’t mess it up?” his hand seized around the keys, and he donned a slender smile, “Then, what a great day to be messed up.”

Gaining ground, he also audibly pitched, “And no, Harper. Max isn’t anyone’s type. Except…” Yours. He didn’t even need to spot her from the back or finish. His laugh echoed down the hallway.

The parking lot was autumn’s playground. Shaken trees left courses of leaves migrating across the fair atramentous pavement. Many slots of stickled, heavy-handed and white-lined rectangles emptied out towards the end of the line. Ever-present, urban cars in the front glanced through their gleaming windshields as the brunette and blonde departed through the heavy double doors. In an arcane practice, Zachary Lee’s graphite black car parked fortuitously just within the lines. Fresh-forwardly, it was an exemplar of capitalism affected by multifarious mirrors that divided the light and shadows without compromise. Rectified beneath a lamp post, it unlocked with the click of keys. Yielding down, Zach dipped into the leather seat of the driver, the passenger seat being taken by a guest whom he could never picture there.

“You trust me?” he tentatively asked, when he plucked in the key, “Really?”

Her inscrutable face precluded many answers, but she easily shaped back against her seat, and developed a faunt smile that strayed from her words. “Definitely, not,” remarked Harper.

Zachary Lee wasn’t a demure driver; he pushed the floor when he wanted and drifted on turns. Truth be told, Zachary Lee knew where Max’s house was. His dad and Mr. Berkowitz were friends. Was it worth it confusing Harper Anderson? He bit down a grin.

“My bad,” he lied through his teeth when Harper began giving him instructions, “I made a left instead of your right.”

“Left again! I missed it, didn’t I?” he sporadically remarked. Conveniently, his own directions led them to pull into the local diner. He could feel Harper’s irritation, but he was hungry, and Max came last on all of his priorities.

“What,” he deadpanned, shruggingly, “You seriously didn’t expect me to save Rapunzel without a nice meal?”

“Come on,” he persuaded, “I’m paying anyway and ...I guess I’ll get your shrimpy friend something too and... Sawyer nothing because I like ticking her off.”

The door jingled as they entered. It was one of his favorite places, antediluvian with Tokyo red inflatable-like booths an brightly colored-glass longobard ceiling lights. Mediumly populated, they found themselves a table, sliding into the seats and picking up the menus.

“Order whatever you want,” he lazily communicated, each vowel rolling off her tongue like a yawning cat, “But, don’t if it’s only a bland salad.”

Abstractedly, he became seclusive as they waited for a waiter. Checking his phone, he relaxed as Tatum finally texted back. His allevement from his worries was only gone by a modicum, then returned when she made it known that Colby and her ended their friendship. Whereas he’d celebrate, the text that he received from her made him slump slightly deeper into his shoes.

you got what you wanted. No I don’t want to fight. No I don’t want to discuss it. But you won.

She wasn’t here, but he could imagine the line vent through her smooth, paris lips. Dwindled in embitterment was his acceptance to hear the laughter of the couples dining in the background. Gone were the shrieks and whining of the toddlers who scraped and banged their cutlery utensils on the cabriole-legged, glass tables. Drained of any noise— from the clinking of glasses to the old ladies in the corner and waiters sustained on speed—Zachary Lee closed his phone.

Her language took her weekend’s smoked cigarettes and going against plausibility, shoved the burnt blunts down his throat to his blackening organs.

“Oh, and ha-” he wetted his lips to keep conversation, running a hand sloppily across his forehead that began throbbing, “The chili fries are good too. Kinda sting the mouth with how spicy they make them.” He wanted to smile, he wanted to laugh, he wanted to shut down, but what to do first? He wanted to battle her words, and strike a line through them, but he knew that she was right. He was Zach, and plainly, he knew that he had ruined it all.

He had noticed that his eyes had gone down-cast, so much so that he felt Harper’s sharp eyes- full on dark-winged lashes trying to know, but to no avail uncovering him.

It was just: did everyone think it was about winning and losing with him? And, unnervingly, what if they were right?

“You’re an outsider. You said I’m a bad boyfriend? Why? How do I act like it?” Zach spoke up, almost hoarding the menu too close to his face.

Just as he opened his mouth again to somehow find a way to take the question back, a waiter clad in a black and white uniform appealed towards them as if he was not a person, but some transfigured pawn on his own chessboard of black and white marble tiles. Winning. Losing. Reeling his head towards him, Zach noticed that the waiter had his arms locked up to his chest, a blank pad of white and a black pen corkscrewed in his hands almost unwillingly. He had a long face and blinked at them from his uninterested, closed eyes.

There was a moment of silence. Silence that could neither be shattered by Zach or Harper, just the waiter.

As if it was his cue to speak, he spoke. “Welcome to the diner...,” the rest lost in the mumbling of his fondant rolling r’s, his lips remaining pursed in a line.

They leered at him with a passive glance, then looked at each other as a motion of deciding who was ordering their food first. She did not speak up, so Zach jumped ahead and recited his order, noticing that the waiter’s patience was wearing out by the way he tapped his foot on the ground. “Waffles with a chocolate milkshake,” turning his head to her, he trails off with, “and Harper will have…”

His eyes went up to the waiter as she ordered herself something too. Pronto. Fast. The waiter’s hand moved around rapidly on the paper and he scrambled to jot down our simple order. Zach snapped out of it as the pen’s spring swallowed the tip.

The heaviest silence regained in their atmosphere and remained even as their plates settled in front of us.

His nostrils filled with the smell that brought him back to mornings with Tatum Browne, and as he peered into his plate, hot steam from the freshly cooked waffles turned his face warm. Warmth he craved right now. Memories collected of him chasing her around the house sprinting from one corner to the next, him and her curled up on the couch with a fleece blanket across their shoulders with toes piled up on the sofa as they skipped through channels furtively foundered. The waffles, those days, toasted in the back. He remembered. As he sank his knife into the soft yellow-brown crust, he looked up to find my her hand reaching out, towards her own plate. His knife freezed mid-motion, and he finally courageously found himself joking again, “I bet you couldn’t guess I had a sweet tooth, huh?”
“But, then again,” he hid behind a smile that touched from one ear to another, “I didn’t know much about you either. But, hey- you’re favorite color is lilac and you eat better than cheerleaders. God, do you know how annoying it is to hear gardena salad.”

Confrontingly, he forced, “Seriously, though. What do you think about me, Harper? If you only knew me by what happened today and not any of the bullshit from Twitter or this town, would you think I’d be a good boyfriend?”

Was Colby right this whole time?

code by valen t.