[IC] May the Power Protect You

[Hey Im Jordan]

_{The Detention Room}

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“Remember! Attention, in detention.”

Their ‘handler’ as Tony had come to refer to him always said the same thing. He said it everytime, every single time. And Tony didn’t even get it! What did it even mean? It was such a drag, being in this building, and in this room. And on a Saturday, no less! He had better things to do, surely they all did. But no, he was trapped in here until the end of the school year, just like the other five. Tony didn’t know anyone here, sure he knew of them, but he didn’t necessarily know their names.

He had just… assigned names to them. There was ‘Lives Under Her Own Dress Code,’ ‘Probably a Former Girl Scout,’ ‘Might Be Able to Kill Me,’ and ‘Has a Nice Car Guy.’ Strangely, if you asked Tony anyway — and maybe it was sexist — he and Has a Nice Car Guy were… the only guys there. Probably a Former Girl Scout belonged here the least, she seemed out of place — she didn’t seem like she had a single bone in her body that deserved to be detained.

Has a Nice Car Guy seemed like he belonged here the most — Tony figured it was the jacket he wore. Might Be Able to Kill Me and Lives Under Her Own Dress Code seemed at home, if nothing else, though Tony reckoned Might Be Able to Kill Me only had one setting, and that was quiet and not talking to anyone ever no matter what. Tony imagined if she ever did speak, her only words would be ‘lawyer’ and whatever ‘lawyer’ was in… whichever sect of Asia she was from.

“Attention in detention.”

The Handler said it again as he walked toward the stairs, and without missing a beat, he abandoned the entire detained squad. Tony wondered if he knew what they did down here after he left. Following the Handler with his eyes, Tony came to a sad realization… The Handler didn’t care. Did anyone? Probably not. Tony wasn’t sure he even cared what he did down here.

What was important was… their time together was reaching its apex, the midpoint. Tony thought of the detention kids as a ‘group,’ even if they never said more than three words to each other, but… still, it was the closest thing he had to friends. Tony had a plan to celebrate, all he had to do was… ask. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t going to be easy. It was never easy, not to speak to people. What was he, some kind of social butterfly? No, no, Tony was more of a social… moth. He just didn’t know what he was doing, and suddenly he flew into a bug zapper and bing bang boom he was dead.

This sucked.

Tony stood up from his desk amongst the pit of kids stuck in detention, and cleared his throat. “Hey, guys. Thank you for… gathering here. It’s been nice meeting you and all, so to, you know celebrate our uhm...—” Oh man, this was painful, he was worse than he’d thought. He’d just get to the point. “I’m going to Angel Grove mine tonight, at six thirty, to blow some stuff up. You guys wanna come?” There. Who wouldn’t want to blow stuff up?

[AlteredTundra]

_{Outfit of the Day ♥ Elle's Bug ♥ Interacting With: Tony @Hey Im Jordan}

The day had started as normal as any other day in the life of Penelope Quinn. First, she would wake up nearly at the crack of dawn. Her alarm had always been set for that time of day. It didn’t matter if it was a holiday or if she had school that same day, she was up before her parents, before her three younger siblings, and before anyone else in the neighborhood would be up. Her new criminal status didn’t change the fact that she wanted to do her part to help, so when she got dressed and showered, she was out the door before even five, her bag over her shoulder, an outfit fitting of the surprisingly cool weather that hit this Sunday of Angel Grove, and a smile on her face as she made it a mission to get to the high school early.

As she drove her 2015 Volkswagen Beetle through the streets of Angel Grove, Elle couldn’t help but keep her head held high. Despite being in the position she was in of having to go to detention for the next six months, despite her now knowing that the person who asked her to hold a package for them wasn’t her friend, Elle kept her eyes on the prize. She always looked toward the lighter side of any situation. Now, whether that was her wanting to pass a test, meet deadlines she was given at the community center, or, as she was doing right now, looking forward to the day the ankle bracelet that the Angel Grove PD put on her as an agreement her father had with the DA’s office. Six months she had to endure and six months she shall!

Before long, Elle found a seat somewhat close to the stairs. She looked around and saw some familiar faces. Sure, they were usually the types who she avoided for obvious reasons, but she couldn’t exactly judge them now since she was now one of them. Not that there was anything wrong with being one of them. Elle hated it when others judged her or kind of just teased her for no reason It happened, so it wasn’t like when she looked at them she was judging them...

“Or am I?”

As Elle’s panic started to overwhelm her, almost to the point where she started to freak out internally, she was surprisingly calmed by the sudden interruption by the Angel Grove High staff member who was overseeing detention ...only for him to leave not a moment after demanding their attention. On the note of demanding attention, someone she recognized. Tony. Tony ...Bastion? No, that wasn’t right. She knew it started with a B, but she couldn’t be sure. She had seen him around in a few of her classes. Either way, he started talking about how he was gonna head to the Angel Grove Mines and blow things up.

Do people do that? She thought to herself, uncertain about what this entailed.

Was it slang for something else? Did she want to go? Elle wasn’t the type to intentionally harm anything. She wanted to decline, but she didn’t want to seem rude. Tony seemed genuine and kind in how he was reaching out to everyone. She knew first hand how difficult it was doing that because you never knew how it was going to end up. The person could decline, call your idea stupid, or be rude about it while doing both of those things. The more she thought about it, the more it showed on her face.

She coughed, raising her hand out of habit. “Sounds like fun! You can count me in!” What did Elle just sign herself up for?

[Sloth]

All things considered, Brent would rather be pretty much anywhere rather than where he was. No matter how often he found himself in the high school's detention hall, it never became less soul crushingly boring. No doubt that was the whole point. Maybe if the rebellious youth saw the alternative, they'd get on the straight and narrow just to avoid such a monumental waste of time. Evidently it didn't have a very success rate, considering the sheer amount of familiar faces in the crowd. One such face was currently at the front of the peanut gallery. Something about heading up to the quarry for fireworks to celebrate. To celebrate what, Brent did not know. He figured the immediate silence was going to be his fellow detainee's answer.

Then, the impossible happened. Someone accepted the offer. He didn't recognize the girl by name. Word from the grapevine was that she was some rich princess who managed to get busted for drugs in her locker. Somehow her father managed to get her locked up here rather than in juvie. A believable enough story considering what Brent knew about the upper class students at Angel Grove, but usually those types were smart enough not to store drugs in their lockers, and they certainly didn't mingle with the peasants. Unless they were dealing, of course.

He considered his options. Did he really want to drive all the way up to the mine just for cheap thrills? Well, he didn't have a shift scheduled at the garage later that day, and it would give him an excuse to get out of the house and away from his mother for an hour or two. Or three. What the hell, it was something to do. He didn't bother raising his head out of his arms to give his response, and he put his head back down almost immediately after giving it.

"Sure, why not."

[LovelyComplex]

_{Interacting with: @Hey Im Jordan @Altered Tundra @Sloth @Fabricant451}

For once, she wasn't dressed as scantily clad as she normally was. Sorta. With a gold choker necklace on and only her left ear hoop earring showing, Mia pulled her pink scrunchy off, letting her long and loose curls, untamed and wild, cascade down her right shoulder. Her thin, soft dancer stomach barely mattered in comparison to her booty jean shorts. To her there was no problem, but to those that thought with their sex and not their mind, her voluptuous hips and thick Mexican American thighs were. These God given gifts that she felt obligated to display. What kind of 'catholic' girl would she be if she didn't show what the Father gave to her?

Although she was a petite girl that only stood at 5'2", her ass POPPED. She wore the perfect size that gave her space to breathe around her waist, as it squeezed around the area that mattered to the eye. The cheeks. Aside from her being the dancing captain, her reputation was more of a Devourer than of her passion. In books, this type of woman preyed on men in order to destroy their purpose and enjoyment. She achieves their adoration, love, and lust, then breaks them when they no longer are appetizing to her. Well, that was such a silly rumor. She didn't just like the taste of boys. She liked girls too.

This classroom was starting to irk her, having seen it more this year than she would've liked and if she didn't 'clean up' her act, they would force her out of the club she started. Without her, Angel Grove wouldn't know how much people could express themselves with their bodies. Middle schoolers would still be arms length apart, cheerleaders would be stiffer than her last lay, and the town would stick with line dancing rather than let loose, footloose.

At least, Mr. Stevenson didn't say shit or do shit for that matter. At this point, he accepted she was going to do what she wanted or start an uproar from the more outspoken and prideful women at the school that fawned over her and asked for advice. Some people saw her as a vile serpent, others saw her as an impenetrable feminist.

In all honesty? It really wasn't that deep to her. When she chose a lover, it's because she was horny and thought they were cute. Not because she was intentionally trying to break their heart. When she spoke out about 'female rights' and fuck 'slut shaming', she was just enjoying making a scene and toying with the other person. She didn't have this crazy agenda to turn the majority of the population into promiscuous whores. They gave her far too much credit if they thought that. She was just here to have a good time, while keeping her GPA high. Dancing through life, essentially. Her motto. Don't invite stress in and live in the moment.

People would think what they want. They'd either hate her or want to fuck her. Beyond that, though? No one really knew her. No one cared to ask. She was a beautiful creature and a complete mystery. Easy to objectify and keep at a distance. Not going past the skin and seeing what she hides behind that impish smile. Why should they? That would ruin her beauty.

Did she care? Did she care that all her friendships were made out of plastic? That she was basically a barbie doll and nothing more? Not really. At least, that's what she tells herself. One day, she was going to leave this place. Far, far away, like a bird free from her cage.

Sighing to herself and snapping her gum, Mia realized she didn't care for many people that weren't her family. No one mattered and for all she cared, this place could burn and she wouldn't shed a tear. Call it coping or whatever, it was hard for her to get attached.

Failing to listen to the staff member that she knew would leave them to their own devices in a matter of seconds, she used her token appearance trait, her hair, and hid her Bluetooth earpiece. She snapped her gum once more and started listening to her edited dance mix of Closer, by The Chainsmokers, ft. Halsey, and practicing her routine in her head, making subtle motions with her torso, arms, and hands.

This sucked.

Not her dancing. This situation. Being in detention. Her Saturday was being wasted with a bunch of nobodies and here she was killing time, listening to music that made her want to get out of her seat and pop, lock, and drop. Her mental performance was interrupted by that... awkward kid. The kid that wasn't that great at presentations and usually got kicked out of gym for 'accidentally' hurting someone. Tony the Tiger. Ha. Jokes. Thanks to him, she finally took a moment to look at him and everyone else in the room, realizing how different they all were.

Bambina. She was too pure, too sweet for her own good ("Let's visit the children's hospital!"). Penelope seemed to be the type to dumbly, and blindly, follow others. Little Miss Sweetheart. A 'perfect' role model and lady. Looks like she got a news flash because daddy wasn't going to teach her everything and here she was paying the piper. That being said, he sure as hell saved her from a worse offense. Lucky girl, if you asked her.

Blowing a bubble with her pink gum, she carefully eyed the boy whose head was buried in his arms. Mr. Big. The one with the bad temperament and tried to shut people out by throwing fists, instead of words. At least the Tiger tried to talk before punching. In her opinion, Brenton deserved all the judgement and isolation he had coming. This treatment wasn't because he scared people. It was because his actions made him seem like a big shot. Like he was better than them. And as such, why would people even try to get to know him? He didn't control his emotions well and that made him weak. It was sad, honestly.

Lastly, the silent one, who's always eating something and is the founder of the Combat Sports Club. A person she honestly did NOT want to fuck with, especially in relation to Mr. Big and Tiger. She seethed skill and murder. Not like literal murder, but, like, just look at her! She could kill them all with her BARE hands. There weren't many people that made her shake. Kara was one of them. Hm, now that she thought some more, it seemed like most of the people here, aside from her and Bambina were aggressive types. Interesting. She'd have to keep tabs on them.

Once her bubble exploded, she slowly sucked it back in. Her hazel blue-grey eyes (yeah, her eyes were wild depending on the lighting) went back to the boy of the hour that made the suggestion. While the other two yes'd him, Mia crossed her arms and leaned back, "Why?" Her charming, yet quizzical, gaze scanned him while adding, "Because we're all fucked, you just want to... blow shit up with us?" Since when did he give a shit about her, or any of them for that matter? None of them were friends. None of them gave any fucks. Why was he trying to make friends? In detention of all places!

[Fabricant451]

Kara had been the last one to arrive in detention and was likely the first one of the group to get more time added to their sentence; she maintained it wasn't her fault, both in defense of what led to her being detained in the first place and in the harmless act that got her an increased sentence. When the bell marking the end of the school day rang, Kara did what she always did and went for the gym to the Combat Club; even if the members were lesser than other athletic clubs she liked to go, get a nice little workout with the bag and the dummy if no one wanted to spar for real, and then head home. Kara made it as far as stepping onto the blue floor mats before the detention teacher, flanked by a school liaison officer, called her name. Kara shook her head and proceeded to do her stretches and warm ups but ignoring the teacher meant the liaison officer got involved which meant Kara resisted, which meant Kara judo tossed the officer onto the mat which meant by the time Kara was escorted into the detention room the video had already made it to Twitter.

They didn't even let her get a bag of Funyuns from the vending machines on the way in.

When she took her seat her first thought that she was still in the wrong room, after all there was no way someone like the school's Samaritan would do something that landed her in detention, but maybe, like Kara, the other girl was just an anomaly. A case of lost in translation. A misunderstanding beyond measure. But between the pornstar of Angel Grove High and the fist fighting greasehead, Kara figured she was in the right place, albeit wrongfully imprisoned. As far as she was aware the others weren't interested in her or her club so she, in turn, wasn't interested in them. None of them really felt like talking, no bonding like that lame movie from the eighties, just sitting in relative silence listening to the clock tick and realizing everyone was likely judging everyone else.

Once the attendant teacher or whoever it was left them, in a move Kara thought was especially bizarre seeing how much of an effort the staff did to get her there in the first place, Kara simply took out a pair of earbuds from her bag and turned on some music. It was loud enough that it was audible without being overbearing for the others, though likely it was still somewhat annoying. She didn't care. She needed something to stop her from hearing the damn clock. Halfway through the song was when her eyes saw movement, it was the Samaritan raising her hand like they were in a lecture.

Kara didn't take her earbuds off nor did she turn her music down, she just watched lips move as if she could understand them. She couldn't, of course, she didn't read lips, but she wasn't about to pause the song - it was one of her favorites. They seemed to be speaking to the one most in need of a haircut and once the sexual paragon finished her words, whatever they might've been, Kara figured it was her turn. Unfortunately for everyone gathered, she would not be gracing them with an answer to whatever question they asked. Rather, she turned up the volume as the next song began to play.

She just wanted to go back to the Combat Sports Club. Was that so bad?