[IC] ♔ ♕ 𝐇𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

[Horangi]

_{^{chapter 1 : the rushening.}}

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx sunny ☼ H: 90℉ L: 68℉

"Goooood morning Attawit, it is Monday, September 20, 2021, and this is your 9 o'clock news! The OIC Knights faced off against the Standford Cardinals on Saturday night and came out with their second victory this season after a stunning touchdown pass from Zachariah Bishop to Arthur Lynch in Overtime! The Prestigious school is looking to turn over a new leaf after a year of investigations and legal actions, and it is looking like the rebound is in full force." The students have been hard at work the past two weeks in their classes and social lives. Following a two-win streak, the football team and its fans are buzzing with excitement. The second Monday of the school year marks the beginning of "the Rushening", where students will have a chance to explore and network with the many sororities, fraternities, clubs, and sports teams the campus has to offer. But of course, Ms. Fortune can't let her favorite subjects exist without a little chaos in their life. A bulletin board is posted at the entrances of the quad fit with the pictures and nicknames of the victims "The Elites" she chosen for this year. 『 xσxσ. 』

[smarty0114]

_{Location: OIC Quad -> Hastings Library
Mentions: Laren Hastings @Venus | Axel Maddox @viktorseier}

---

---

“Jesus fucking Christ, where’d she find this picture? I’m a photogenic person! She had options! Also, what the fuck does she mean by ‘The Tyrant’?” Katie Callaghan found herself on Monday morning, storming across the quad, a photograph of herself in hand. She was, per usual, dressed to the nines, still refusing to abandon aesthetics in favor of functionality.

“You a tyrant? How dare she?” Jamie Callaghan replied, dry and biting. His long legs carried him casually alongside his sister, his eyes trained elsewhere.

Katie rolled her eyes and shoved an elbow into Jamie’s side. “Fuck off.”

“Oh yes, benevolent dictator. Fucking off now,” Jamie said, the corners of his mouth curling up ever so slightly. “Seriously though, it’s not that bad of a picture. I’ve seen worse of you. Who cares what this bitch has to say anyway?”

“You should care. Your name was on that list too. You’re telling me you’re the kind of person who holds up under scrutiny?” Katie cocked her eyebrow and looked over at Jamie, awaiting a retort. Instead she found him staring down at his phone, eyebrows knit together. She rolled her eyes, always annoyed by even the smallest of interruptions. “Hello? We were having a verbal sparring match?”

Jamie looked up from his phone. “Huh? Oh yeah, one second.”

“Oh my god, see this right here,” Katie waved her finger around in a wild gesture, as if her shouts needed emphasis, “is my point! How long until Ms. Fortune has her eyes trained on you and your boyfriend?”

Jamie frowned. “He’s not my boyfriend! How’d you even know I was texting him you nosy little weevil?”

Katie laughed. “Because, I’m the only other person you text, and I’m standing right here.”

“Well, maybe I was texting… Birdie.”

Katie laughed again. “Yes, because you and Birdie have so much to talk about.” Katie stepped into Jamie’s path, and spun around, stopping him. “Look, all I’m saying is, it doesn’t matter what it looks like. It just matters what people see.”

It was Jamie’s turn to roll his eyes. “Okay, fuck you. You're being dramatic, surprise surprise. I’m going to get coffee with Axel, and guess what? The world isn't going to end because of it.” Jamie said, before spinning on his heel and walking away.

Katie smiled and waved him off, shouting after him, “I knew it!” before continuing towards the library, pulling out her own phone to fill Laren in on the bulletin board fiasco. If anyone honestly needed a heads up that they were in Ms. Fortune’s crosshairs, it was Ren. Katie wasn’t the biggest supporter of her and Johnny B, but she didn’t want to see it get messy and Ms. Fortune had a reputation for doing just that.

Katie pushed open the grand double doors to the library, and slipped her phone into the designer purse hanging from her arm. She found herself a seat at an empty table, and let out a breath. She couldn’t afford to let the personal bleed into the academic. Compartmentalization was key to success, and she prided herself on having mastered it. She caught a handful of eyes on her, but she pushed them out of her mind. Really, how different was it from any other Monday? Katie wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with the stares of strangers.

Still, even as she set about unpacking her laptop and busying herself with work, she found it hard to escape a nagging feeling that this was simply the calm before the storm. A few times her hands wandered to her mouth, but she refrained from chewing on her well manicured nails. She wouldn’t ruin hard work over emotions as silly as fear and anxiety. She was Katie Callaghan, and she did not back down from challenges. As far as she was concerned, Ms. Fortune was just another challenger. For now.

[nasty]

𝐊𝐚𝐭 𝐕𝐚𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐥

---

When Kat woke, all she could think about was how much she needed a coffee. That craving could drive her to drastic things. Sometimes, those things were even as wild as getting out of bed. She opened her eyes to a faceful of silky hair and an armful of… Oh, yeah.

She shifted out of the covers, sat up, and rubbed the night’s sleep from her eyes. Silver early morning light was leaking past the drawn blinds, never settling on anything, but gently touching everything. Mimsy laid just a few feet away. Kat sighed, and scratched her head. She desperately wanted to be on the same page, and for this to mean nothing. After all, there had been countless girls who it had meant nothing with. So, that is what she told herself. And that was that.

”Eugh…”

She crawled out of bed and dragged on whichever clothes had flown off. That is, after she found them. Half a bottle of wine and certain company had a way of making her misplace things. A pair of loose-fit jeans and a sports bra were first, with a button-up, a flannel, and a hoodie to follow. The memories which slid back into her head at that moment made her grin like an idiot. But, slowly, pain crept in to remind her of the coffee. It was time to go. She quickly gathered the rest of what she had brought, stashing it in her bag, and walking out the door.

Outside, the wind was crisp and cool against her face, and lively in the lungs. She pulled her coat in tighter. It had been so much warmer in bed. Anyway… she thought, bringing her mind back to the present. She reached into her pocket to pull out her phone, put one earbud in, and hit “play” on her daily spotify mix. Tear You Apart. ”Great,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Minutes later, she was aboard a near-empty bus on the way back to campus. It stank. Normally, she would have spent time racking her brains to figure out what the stench was, but today, that did not seem like a concern. Today was not a normal day. Something was off, and it wasn’t exactly that she hadn’t woken up in her own bed.

With a shake of her head to dismiss the feeling, she pulled out her phone and opened up her DMs. It took her several minutes of agonising doubt to finally type out a message to Mimsy, bluntly apologising for leaving without saying goodbye.

After a short bus ride, a shorter walk, and an even shorter text exchange, she found herself stood in front of a bulletin board thinking, what the fuck am I doing? And what the fuck is this picture of me doing here?

Someone had decided that the portraits of an eclectic mix of students needed to be pinned to a board, each accompanied by a nickname. Some were kind. Others.... well Kat just hoped that Aria didn’t see hers. That one was particularly cruel. Whatever this was, it seemed like pure high-school drama. She was already done with it. There were no second thoughts as she tore her photo down. It went straight into her bag, where it would stay until it was ready to burn.

With that, Kat wheeled and marched towards the cafe. Her coffee was long overdue. And before too long, she was seated in her own booth, sipping her coffee and scrolling social media.

[Vox]

_Tutoring
^{Lucy @fledermaus | Birdie @KZOMBI3}
_Videos
^{Sia @metanoia}
_Casual
^{Kat @nasty}

---

Rose Point Heights
Morning

---

Mornings were always dreadful things, and this one proved to be no exception. After all, Mimsy expected to at least be cuddling something warm when she woke up, but instead only found an armful of blankets. It only made an already bad morning worse when the absence made her think of things altogether even more unpleasant, even if she secretly hoped that today would have been different. A hope that nearly made her heart jump out of her chest when she heard the dull vibration of her phone coming from somewhere in the room.

It was nothing.

It was probably nothing.

Maybe it wasn't nothing.

God damn it.

Against all rational thought or reason, she grumbled and began to move out of her very comfortable, very plush, and very reliable bed to go find her phone. She of course, then immediately got to regret the fact that she very much liked to leave the windows open at night, as was the ritual for her every morning when she found herself mysteriously without clothes of any sort to protect her. A wonder for the ages. She kicked aside a few toys and loose clothing before picking her phone up off the floor and seeing with only slight disappointment who it came from.

Flirting with Kat proved to be a wonderful little distraction at least as Mimsy went through her morning rituals as she got ready to get to OIC. It was rare for her to have any reason to go to campus these days ever since she figured she didn't have to attend any lectures any more and still get good enough grades that professors were still willing to write her rec. letters when she asked without asking for too much of a bribe. The fact that it seemed to piss a majority of them off either because she either did well enough that they couldn't ask for bigger favors or just shy of being at a level where they could comfortably recommend her without any extra incentives was just an added bonus.

In any case, they were often enough to continue landing her tutoring gigs that didn't need to be organized through OIC's tutoring center, which more than a few rich kids who liked their appearances were willing to pay for to avoid the ignominy of it, alongside the ones who just had a fetish and the select few who actually enjoyed her teaching style, the last group of which was who she actually cared about today. Shooting off a text to those few special members, she also remembered to shoot Sia a text to follow-up the adorable little freshman's ideas for videos.

With messages sent, coffee consumed, and safety gear on, Mimsy got on her bike and sped through the quiet, affluent neighborhood as she let her thoughts and worries empty on the ride. It didn't take too long to get to campus anyways, especially at the speeds that Mimsy went, doubly so because she didn't even get flagged down today. Maybe the local cops had finally given up on ever getting a ticket to stick to her.

Unfortunately it seemed some new nuisance had risen in their absence as Ms. Fortune seemed to have picked her new targets for the year, not that Mimsy really cared. She already saw the pictures people had started posting on all her socials, and honestly - a bulletin board? Either Ms. Fortune was an old dinosaur or she was too paranoid for her own good. What was more interesting anyways was a familiar face sitting in a cafe not too far away, and since she'd already proven such fun last night, Mimsy saw no harm in bothering Kat even further, especially since she had so rudely left in the morning with a text.

Striding over and walking in, Mimsy gave a little wave to the baristas at the counter before slipping into Kat's booth, placing her helmet on top of the table before resting her chin on top of her interlocked hands. "Good morning. You last said something about ending up 'somewhere similar with one of the philosophy majors?'"

[Vox]

𝐊𝐚𝐭 𝐕𝐚𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐥 and 𝕄𝕚𝕞𝕤𝕪 𝕍𝕦𝕠𝕟𝕘

---

155° Cafe
OIC Campus

---

Kat nearly choked on her coffee in a half-baked effort to stop herself spitting it all over the table. A not quite successful effort, mind you, as some still ended up dribbling down her chin. She wiped it away quickly. Tried to regain composure. Everything was fine, this was not at all embarrassing. Her face flooded with red.

”Um… yeah. I di- did,” she stammered, eyes fixed on Mimsy’s hands. ”You nearly made me choke!”

Mimsy, in turn, raised her fingers up so that they were perfectly placed in the little middle dip of her mouth. ”Nearly? I think I was successful on that front several times. Or that could have been me. So hard to remember when so much happened.”

”I mean like to dea- oh. Yeah, uh… right,” Kat said, eyes following Mimsy’s hands.

”Donc, so, what are your plans? Seems important if you didn’t want coffee at my place instead. Too rich for your tastes?”

Kat looked up and out the window to their left. A small, audible sigh whistled past her lips. ”I just wanted to check my schedule. Didn’t know when you would wake up, I guess,” she said, still transfixed on whatever was out the window. The earbud fell out. She didn’t bother replacing it. ”Yeah sorry about that. We can always go back there sometime?”

A little sigh, a little unfurling of her arms as the leather sleeves of her jacket slid across themselves, a little tap of her fingernails on the table.

Ugh, that fucking jacket… the thought flashed in Kat’s mind. Her breath caught. Just slightly.

Then, a little opportunity presenting itself with a clatter. A small smile tugged Mimsy’s lips as she picked up the earbud, brushing her hair into place before sneaking the blaring piece into her ear. ”And you had to run all the way to campus for that? Why, if I didn’t know any better, Kat, I’d say you were trying to avoid me. Was I that disappointing for you?” Mimsy widened her smile, her tone a little louder to subconsciously make up for the music, hand now placed on her cheek and firmly framing the earpod’s new home.

”No,” Kat said. She breathed a deep breath into her chest, closed her eyes for a second, and reached down to her coffee. It was a deep brown, clearly strong, and the froth had already been scooped off. She took a sip. ”No, not at all. You were… actually better than I expected.”

She smiled up at Mimsy with cheek in her eyes. ”So many pretty girls learn to get lazy, you know?”

Mimsy shrugged, smirk growing even wider as she began listening to the lyrics of Kat’s song proper, right before the throes of the sultry chorus.

If I'm out of sight then take another look around
I'm still out there hoping to be found

Shut up, kiss me
Hold me tight
Shut up, kiss me
...

”... ‘Hold me tight’ like you did last night and I’m sure any girl would learn to try.”

Kat blinked. Just before her eyes closed, her eyes rolled ever so slightly back. Her eyes stayed closed for a good second. Starting at the cupid’s bow and spreading slowly out, her lips unstuck from one another. I’m a moron. Opening her eyes, she reached for the other earbud, placing it in her own ear. ”Fuck you,” she said, with a slight giggle. ”You know as well as me that there’s more than a few who do not. Just take the compliment, you were good. Honestly. Anyway. I thought you didn’t come to campus anymore or something. What are your plans?”

Recognizing that that was all she was going to get, Mimsy shrugged and leaned back in her seat, taking a moment to ruffle her hair to give it some amount of volume back as she looked out the window Kat seemed so enamored with moments before. ”It’s rush week, there’s always something to do, people to meet up. Half of them are still trying to get me to be a part of their club or sorority or society, the other half want me to plan parties for them. Speaking of, there’s one I’m actually invested in that’s happening Friday. Host is a piece of shit, but his house is big, probably paid for with daddy’s money, with prettier girls and emptier heads and probably shit you can break.” Mimsy took a knowing glance back at Kat.

”Something you’d be interested in?”

”That sounds exhausting. Your week, or whatever. Party sounds fun though, I guess. Pretty girls and shit I can break?” Kat said. She took a sip of her coffee and threw a wink at Mimsy. ”Sounds like you. Sign me up.”

Mimsy laughed, the amusement staying on her face as she returned her full attention back to Kat.

The mug made a clattering sound as it was set back on the saucer. ”But seriously, who else is going? I wanna come prepared.” Kat asked.

”What do you have to prepare for? Just bring your pepper spray and a good pair of boots. We can maybe even go shopping before for new outfits. I did have you penciled in for that day, in case you forgot.”

”Only pepper spray and boots? If there’s one thing you’re a rookie at, Mimsy, it’s this. You’re forgetting the lighter, paint, glue, and… I dunno, something heavy. Maybe a marker if we think there won’t be one there or whatever,” Kat said with a laugh. ”I’ll only go shopping if we’re not buying anything new. I’ve found a few good op-shops around the place. Are we doing costumes, or just ‘fits?”

This time it was Mimsy’s turn to roll her eyes. ”You know what city you’re in, right?” But knowing that Kat won’t budge, Mimsy sighed and relented. ”One day you’ll realize that just being here you’re already like us, and that’s not going to change. But that’s what I find cute about you.” Mimsy got up, collecting her various bits of gear before making her way over towards Kat’s side and leaned down close, gently pulling the other girl's cheeks towards the vixen. ”Until next time, oué? I’ll send you details later.” Then, with a soft kiss on Kat's cheek, Mimsy departed.

Kat scoffed at the thought of her being “like us”, before being completely taken off guard by her cheek being grabbed. Under Mimsy’s soft touch, it burned red yet again. Kat reached up on an instinct, knuckles grazing the other woman’s chin. The kiss that followed was enchanted with a woody cologne, which swirled into her nose, rising into her brain, forcing it to recall breath-hitching feelings from last night. Why am I like this?

”Uh… yeah,” was all she could say. She gulped. ”Next time, or- or whatever.”

She didn’t even have time to register that none of her questions had been answered. Her cheek glowed. Her heart raced. Her mouth was dry, so she took another sip. Again, she was sitting alone, but it felt dif- Shut up. Wait… that bitch! She didn’t answer my questions! she thought. She shook her head out of its stupor, blinking rapidly a few times. There had been countless girls who it had meant nothing with. So - again - that is what she told herself. And - again - that was that.

[c3p-0h]

Flora Dellaporta

_{dorm -> oic quad
mentions: andre @metanoia, aria @akayaofthemoon, johnny @legion02}

---

It was still dark when Flora awoke, the gentle chime of her phone echoing through her apartment. Her eyebrows furrowed as she buried further into her pillow just a bit… then she sighed. Her fingers found her phone, and the apartment was quiet again.

She kept the lights off as she padded about, wood shifting under her bare feet. Flora, as she did most mornings, relied on the ambient light from the lamp posts scattered around campus. She didn’t say a word. There was something mystical about the hours just before dawn - like she was keeping a secret, intruding on a time that she wasn’t quite meant for. Like there was someone sleeping soundly just around the corner. Flora had to be up early, but maybe if she stayed very quiet she could grant them a few extra moments of peace, care for them in her own simple way. Maybe she could creep around the corner, up to their bed, and slip under the covers with them. Nestle against their warmth to chase away the fresh autumn chill. Fall asleep to the rhythm of their breathing.

But the apartment was empty when the sun rose.

Flora was nearly ready for the day - she’d gotten dressed and washed her face, triple checked her schedule, arranged her textbooks and notebooks in chronological order for her classes, had her tea, edited her ESL essay, and texted her parents good morning - when an email alert popped up on her phone.

flora-
can you print this flyer out for the tutoring center and put it up on the bulletin
forgot it was rush and coming in late
thx
hernandez

tc2021flyer.pdf

Flora opened the file from the head of student learning to see a fairly sparse flyer advertising the tutoring center to students while also calling for tutor applications. She glanced at the time at the top of her screen. Then she typed a quick reply as she went to find her printer.

A half hour later, Flora walked through OIC’s pristine campus. Her heart beat a little louder than normal - her eyes were trained straight ahead, like they were unwilling to glance around, take in the flurry of activity that was rush week. She was getting better though; after two weeks of classes, it was becoming easier to pretend that the past summer had never happened, that there wasn’t an abandoned (but often viewed) DM thread in her phone, that she was fine, she was fine, she wasn’t going to cry, she didn’t feel worthless -

No, she was just Flora at school. She went to class. She tutored. Sometimes she sat with Andre in the library, or made polite conversation with the new barista at the café.

She had moved on with her life. They both had.

Flora pulled the printed flyer (made more colorful with her collection of highlighters) out of her folder as she came up to the bulletin, to see it already covered in photos of students. Titles were scrawled under each face. Flora pressed her lips together. She’d seen some classmates posting online about this. Her eyes scanned them, seeing familiar faces. She hated to admit it, but of the ones she recognized, she could see why their titles had been assigned.

Guilt pooled heavy in her stomach. No, that wasn’t fair. Ms Fortune liked to zoom in on people’s flaws, narrowing down their characters until the secrets and shames were all that existed. But just because Andre liked to act unmotivated or Johnny was kind of a jock, didn’t mean they weren’t still good people - they were always kind to Flora, at least. And it definitely didn’t mean they deserved whatever gleeful takedowns the gossip blog had in store. She sighed to herself, grabbing a pin off the board that seemed to be missing a photo -

Flora stopped. Her breath froze in her chest. There, pinned in the bottom left corner like an afterthought, was her photo. A single word labeled her.

Fake

She could only stare. Her muscles didn’t seem to work. Her mind either, for that matter. Over and over, frantic, half-formed thoughts circled Flora.

That couldn’t be her. Why her? This was a mistake. Or a prank. Flora didn’t stand out, she didn’t really socialize, there was no reason to focus on her.

Beneath this twisting current though, was a single whisper: they know.

Flora pinned the flyer roughly over her photo, unable to look at it anymore. Her hands were shaking. Her breath was coming in shorter and shorter bursts, as her throat tightened. Her skin didn’t feel right, like it was too tight, like it vibrated.

She had to go. She couldn’t do this here, in front of everyone, she had to hide, get herself back under control, move, move, move -

Flora spun and hurried away from the bulletin board. She didn’t know where she was going - anywhere, as long as it was away.

[Horangi]

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𝖅𝖆𝖈𝖍 ”𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙” 𝕭𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖕

---

_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. Locker room ⟼ Hastings Library
𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝 an elite? biiiitch.
𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐝 ☼
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. The Tyrant @smarty0114}

---

“Alright boys, great job out there this morning, keep up the good work and you’ll be champions. Now, get the hell outta here!” The bellow easily stretched past the large huddle of sweaty young men standing in the middle of the football field. Zacharias Bishop was one the last of the players to rise at their head coach’s dismissal, and like usual was the last to enter the locker room.

When he did, eyes from around the pristine room snapped to him and snickers could be heard as he passed by a few guys staring at their phones.

Zach was no stranger to the odd side-eye and suspicious murmurings of people around him, but usually, they were middle-aged women who spent their time trying to seduce his married god-fearing father. Receiving the treatment from his teammates put him on high alert and had him fishing out his phone instead of heading in for a quick shower.

“The Saint”Zach murmured and felt the tension in his shoulders ease as he skimmed over the morning’s drama, “an Elite, huh? At least she has taste.” Zach’s worries melted away and a smile slipped onto his face at the next post that came upon his feed.

“Who’s got you smiling like that Bishop?” A voice sounded over his shoulder and Zach double tapped on the picture before smoothly locking his phone.

” I don’t know what you’re talking about, I think you got hit too hard on the field, maybe check in with the trainer, oh- while you do that tell the boys I’ll be late to our booth today, I have a trip to make beforehand.”

“I didn’t get hit that hard today, and sure, I’ll let them know you’re still hard at work trying to tame the Tyrant.” The other football player dodged the helmet that came soaring towards him with a laugh and disappeared behind a wall of lockers before anything else was thrown at him.

With the disturber gone, Zach showered and changed in record time, throwing his backpack over his shoulder as he made his quick exit ignoring the voices that called out to him. Whatever they wanted could wait until practice later that evening, he had more important matters to attend.

Those matters were in plain sight once he pushed past the heavy wooden doors of the library. Sitting by herself in front of an open laptop, the screen illuminated her face and drew his attention to the slight furrow of her brow, “Not losing sleep over Political Ideology, are we Ms. Callaghan?” Zach kept his voice low as he passed behind her to pull the chair out to her right, “You know there are much more exciting things to trade for your beauty sleep.”

[smarty0114]

Location: 155° Cafe

Mood: everything is fine -> everything is definitely not fine

Mentions: Kat Vaupel @nasty || Mimsy Vuong @Vox || Axel Maddox [@victorseier]

---

---

Jamie Callaghan is many things, but relaxed has never been one of them. Despite the calm and collected way he moved across the quad, bookbag bouncing rhythmically against his hip, he could feel the quiet pangs of panic scouring the edges of his mind. The truth was that, despite appearances, he hadn’t had a relaxed day in weeks. Maybe if he had, he’d be reacting with a bit more passion to the news that he was an “Elite,” but as it stood, he was just glad it hadn’t been him saddled with the Fake label. He was tired, and while some distant, sleepy part of his brain might be able to plan a way through this mess, it had been working overtime already. The summer had taken an unexpected toll, and the last few weeks hadn’t been alleviating any issues he had. OIC wasn’t exactly known for it’s spa days. He needed a coffee, a scone, and whatever strange comfort Axel brought him.

Jamie stepped into 155° Cafe and tried once more to push all his worries into a dark corner in his mind, while surveying the room. His eyes fell on Kat Vaupel, and his lips curled down into a frown. Of course she was here. He got in line and looked back over at her, only to see Mimsy Vuong appear suddenly. He cocked an eyebrow Now that, was fucking interesting. Smirking ever so slightly, as he often did when he felt like he knew something that was unintended for him, he moved forward in line. His phone buzzed, and he checked his DMs, grinning now as he typed up a response.

The grin faded as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, or perhaps more truthfully, he forced it away. He couldn’t let himself keep stumbling over the line with Axel, even with his thoughts. Friends didn’t smile like that at each other’s texts. He needed to be… cool. Not a hot fucking mess, and definitely not the dude who fucks everything up by going and getting a crush. Still. He wants you to get him something. Good sign. Or not. Could mean nothing. Or everything. Probably nothing. Nothing is more likely. But you simply can’t rule out the possibility of it meaning something, so maybe just pick wisely. Black coffee? Do I get him food too? That’s nice right? Is it too nice?

Snap! Snap! “Hey! You ordering or not?”

The shout from the girl behind the counter shook him out of his introspective labyrinth, and he stepped up, blinking. “Sorry, I’ll just get a scone, a breakfast sandwich, a black coffee, and a white chocolate mocha.”

“What kind of breakfast sandwich?” The girl behind the counter looked back at Jamie with a look of unbothered annoyance. He was already taking longer than the usual customer. Of course there were different types of sandwiches. He should have just stuck with the black coffee.

Hurryhurryhurryhurryhurryhurryhurry BUT DON’T PICK WRONG hurryhurryhurry His brain was a broken radio, unintelligible static in which sometimes, in order to keep your sanity, you hoped and prayed to find something that made sense. “I don’t know, just pick one with bacon and give that to me,” Jamie said, handing his card over and looking down, trying not to let on as to just how flustered he was.

Moments later, the interaction was over, and Jamie was free, free to sit and agonize at a table instead of while standing. He looked out the window but saw no sign of Axel yet. He took a deep breath and made a promise to enjoy at least this one thing. He needed that right now.

[Horangi]

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𝓔𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓡𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼

---

_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. Study Room ⤏ 368
𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝 necesito una siesta
𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐝 ♂
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. The Fox @fledermaus}

---

Eden jolted awake to the sound of a bang from some corner of the room, the pile of things situated on his lap tumbled a short distance to the floor as he sat up. The bean bag depressed at the movement, and an ache radiated along his back, making him wince as he glanced around.

The study room was mostly empty, save for a few sleep-deprived-looking souls who seemed to be doing the same thing he was, albeit with relatively more success. Eden stretched his arms above his head and let out a low groan before stiffly rising on his feet. Disorientation clung to him as he packed his things up and trudged out of the room.

Another rush week for the books had the dorm in lively spirits this morning and had Eden feeling like the grinch on Christmas. The queue at the elevator had Eden opting for the stairwell; luckily, his floor was the next one up. The muscles in his legs groaned with each step he took, and the only thing on his mind was his bed, for once.

The third floor was quieter than the second but not deserted, and the smells from last night’s “bottom feeder” cooking segment reminded him of home. The carne asada was great, and the company had been even better. A chime sounded from his phone as he fumbled with the keycard to his door. Once inside, he placed his bag on the small desk and swiped his thumb against the glass screen on his phone, “Lucy? Hmmm… she’s cute.” he murmured to himself as he disappeared into the compact bathroom. Eden showered and towel-dried his hair while keeping up a polite enough conversation with the volleyball player that had stumbled into his DMs.

A little bit of flirting never hurt anyone, and she seemed sweet enough to keep his mind off things for a while. Plus, what else was he going to do on a Wednesday night? With the date set for Wednesday and the bags under his eyes demanding at least a solid four hours of sleep, Eden snuggled his way into bed just as the weight of exhaustion hit him.

“Siri, set a reminder for Wednesday.” Eden let out a yawned before relinquishing himself to sleep, and like most nights, it was her pouting face that greeted him to his dreams.

”mi florecita”

[smarty0114]

_{a @horangi + @smarty0114 collab
ʜᴀsᴛɪɴɢs ʟɪʙʀᴀʀʏ | 𝟿:𝟺𝟻 ᴀᴍ}

---

The words in front of Katie were already beginning to swim as her mind refused to stay nicely situated within the confines she’d so thoughtfully laid out. She couldn’t help but think about Ms. Fortune and all the pictures she’d seen this morning. She wasn’t just worried for herself. She was worried for her friends, who probably had way more to get hurt by.

“Not losing sleep over Political Ideology, are we Ms. Callaghan? You know there are much more exciting things to trade for your beauty sleep.”

Katie’s head swung around at the sound of the familiar voice, and a grin broke out across her face once her suspicions were confirmed, followed by an ever so subtle flushing in her cheeks. “And how much beauty sleep do you think I need, exactly?” Katie asked, cocking her head as a playful smile danced it’s way across her face. She turned away from her laptop, and gestured at the empty seat next to her. When Zach was around, homework was suddenly far less of a priority.

“Not a lot. Mmm…” Zach’s voice trailed off as he took the invitation to sit beside her. Settled sideways into the chair with his knees pointed towards her and his torso supported by the table, Zach returned to his previous thought.

“Just enough for a round two or world domination,” he issued a quick wink leaning in towards her a bit, “your choice, of course..” The warm southern twang of his was not without the tone of suggestion as he held Katie’s gaze with ease.

Katie let out a gasp of faux offense and smacked his arm “Zachary Bishop, what would Jesus say?” She leaned in towards him, ever so slightly, while a slender finger twirled a lock of her hair around. Zach was the kind of boy who latched onto her synapses, and set her whole nervous system alight. The kind of boy she loved to dance these little waltzes with, so long as she got to lead.

Zach’s hearty chuckle at Katie’s teasing earned him a withering glare from the passing librarian, but he was enjoying himself far too much to care. What would a college library be without an obnoxious jock making too much noise in one of its corners?

“The lord did say to love your neighbors, but he never specified how to love them.” Zach offered in a light-hearted manner as he leaned back slowly, letting the building tension fade away, “plus, I reckon I’d have been smited already if Jesus was watching out for the shit I get up to on the day to day. Unless Ms.Fortune is the new messiah, and she’s gearing up to send the sinners of OIC to the slaughter.” Zach shifted topics easily but kept his eyes on Katie’s face; it was easier to measure the furrow of a brow or the downturn of her lips than it was to flat out ask her how she was. Politician’s kids were always doing “great.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Katie said, an exasperated sigh tearing past her lips. “Are we really that interesting? I mean, obviously we are,” Katie gestured between the two of them, “but it’s not like Jamie has anything going on. And all the new kids? Who cares what some scholarshit kid gets up to in their spare time. I guess it’s asking too much to have a normal year, god forbid our tuition pay for that instead of Kat Vaupel’s fucking scholarship.” Katie shook her head, blonde waves bouncing around her as she did, and forced a smile back on.

“Enough about things that piss me off though. I can’t go nuclear yet, it’s only week three,” Katie said. She did her best to refrain from having any meltdowns until at least week five. “How was your weekend? Last time I saw you I think I was carrying Jamie back to his room.”

Zach’s smile was a knowing one. His eyes never wandered away from the golden beauty in front of him as she shared her unfiltered thoughts. Perhaps that’s what Zach enjoyed so much about Katie Callaghan, ” Ah, you know, the life of a star college football player is riveting. Early mornings in the gym and late nights on the field, it’s like a 24/7 sausage fest, fun, right?” Zach issued a dramatic roll of his eyes, just as his phone dinged thrice in his pockets, “If it’s Alessio- oh it’s Birdie, one sec.”

Zach readjusted in his seat, pressing his feet into the ground as he tilted backward, just enough for the chair’s front legs to hover off the ground. Zach nibbled at his bottom lip in irritation as he responded to Birdie’s distress, it wasn’t her fault the guys that interested her were idiots, “How do you tell your friend they have shit taste in guys without being rude?” Zach asked, turning his face to Katie, ” If Birdie had your taste, we’d all be living the good life.”

Katie let her eyes traverse Zach’s jaw as he looked down at his phone, felt her stomach clench as he chewed his lip, and then, as if it had been only a passing moment of insanity, turned her eyes away as he came to meet them. “Oof, uh, gently, and with a whole lot of foreplay,” Katie said. “Birdie definitely doesn’t want to hear that though, so better to err on the side of ‘Fuck him, he’s an asshole.’ Who’s on the shitlist now?”

“Arthur, but it’s nothing too serious… unless sending pics and getting no response is a herald for the end of the world, and I am but an ignorant fool.” Zach chuckled and lowered the seat back to all fours as he took note of the time, “I think I’ve distracted you enough, wanna help me look for a book real quick before I have to go meet the boys down in the quad?” he asked with a smirk growing on his face as he stood to his full height.

“I guess I better add librarian to my resume.” The playful smile on her face gave away her good intentions. She shut her laptop and stood to meet Zach, seeming like something out of Oz standing next to him. “Allow me to be the first to introduce you to the wonderful world of books,” she said over her shoulder, sashaying towards the shelves, a subtle, but noticeable, sway in her hips.

Zach gave an amazed “Woah” as he looked past Katie to the aisles of books, but his eyes were quick to snap to the dawg of her hips, “Thought it was time to put my hooked on phonics to work, got flex more than my arm muscles, you know?”

Katie laughed, not the practiced chuckle of the future mayor’s daughter, but the loud and boisterous roar of laughter that only those close to her ever heard. “Don’t let Isa find out. She’ll start thinking you’re competition. What exactly am I finding for you anyway?”

“Or add me to her hitlist underneath her brother’s name.” Zach’s eyes twinkled with joy at the sound of Katie’s laughter. When they stopped in the middle of an aisle somewhere near the back of the library, where the sunlight filtered in through the gaps on the bookshelf, and it was just the two of them Zach leaned in. With his palms resting against the bookshelf on either side of Katie, q he drew closer to her at an agonizing pace. Finally, at the last minute, his lips grazed the side of her cheek to stop at her ear and whisper, “ ‘Our Love Story’, or something, bring it to Nadia’s on Valentine Drive, Thursday at 8?” Zach pulled away slowly his right hand tucking her hair behind her ear before he gave a wink and ducked out of the aisle.

There were certain moments in her life that Katie had attributed the feeling of breathlessness to, but she realized as Zach disappeared around the corner, that she hadn’t truly felt it until right now, amongst the books. Finally, air returned to her lungs, in gasping breaths intermingled with a nervous laughter. One hand came up to touch her ear as her lip found its way between her teeth. “Fucking Zacharias Bishop,” she said to herself, basking in the euphoric haze of the moment for just seconds more, before pulling out her phone and checking her reflection. She gently smoothed her hair, more out of habit than necessity, and stepped out from the aisle, a grin stuck on her face, and a new bounce in her step.

[AlteredTundra]

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______________________________________	______________________________________________________________________________________ Location — OIC Quad → 155° Cafe Mentions — Lola @Venus, Riley @WindsofFate Interactions: Charlie @smarty0114 Andre's outfit of the day ______________________________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Sloth? Really?"

Andre stood in front of the bulletin board, staring at the polaroids with just about everyone who was anyone. It was titled "The Elites". He thought that was an atrocious name. Not because some of the faces he saw weren't just that: elite, but that someone decided that these people, some of whom were his friends -- best friends, even -- should be dubbed The Elite. Like they had a say who was classed as such and who wasn't. Dre hated that. He hated that someone was separating those on the board, whose picture had but a single name attached to it, like they were defined by just that.

And, yeah he hated that his morning started off like this. But maybe it was the fact that his polaroid had the name Sloth. He didn't know what impression he gave to whoever was behind this to deserve such an insulting name. Did he favor being inside more than going to some stupid frat or sorority party? Sure. Of course, he would. He'd prefer it if he could just go about his business, not have to deal with the idiots who got accepted to OiC because of their parents' money or whatever pull they had with the administration. And yes, Dre understands the hypocrisy of this train of thought since he has full access to a well-off trust fund.

But here's the difference between Dre and them (or at least in his mind). He wants to make his own way. He felt like the one member in his family (except his oldest brother, Xander) who didn't want to use his family's money. If it were up to him, he'd do away with his surname, but even his mother's name was recognizable. So he figured the lesser of two evils.

And speaking of two evils, as Dre kept glaring at the board, he found himself centering on Lola's that was just above his. What were the odds? Probably slim, but considering Andre had a habit of calculating them, he wanted to study this board. Part of that was to prove that he wasn't a sloth.

Looking at his phone, Dre just noticed the time. "Oh fuck..." He cursed, rushing off, picking up his electric scooter that was leaning against a nearby tree. "I'm late! And after I finally caved!" Caved to finally meet with Charlie outside of classes and meeting to fix her computer.

He hopped on his scooter and made his way to the 155° Cafe.

After a couple of weeks of nonstop nagging to get him to hang out with her, Andre finally admitted defeat yesterday. Late last night, in fact. He was out about, going for a walk to clear his head after he had a less-than-vocal conversation with his roommate, Riley, about something he couldn't be bothered to remember right now. All he knew was she buttered him up without even realizing it. Honestly, it wasn't so bad. He rushed out of his dorm so quickly after he woke up that he forgot to eat. He had his eye on his leftover chicken sandwich from a couple of nights ago. He was pretty certain that would be gone, though. Like the bull he was labeled as, Andre had no doubt it would be gone by the time he returned to the dorm later today.

And thus why he wasn't totally sour about meeting Charlie at the cafe.

Speaking of, it came into view and, as he locked up his scooter on the bike rack next to it, he took in a deep breath. He didn't know why, but whenever he felt anxious about...,well anything, really, he felt that was the thing you were supposed to do. He didn't know and he wasn't a psychiatrist, but it was done and it helped him calm whatever nerves were getting out of wack.

When he opened the entrance door, he thought he heard someone call his name and that caught him off-guard.

..Okay, so maybe he was a little tenser than he was letting on.

God, I hope Charlie doesn't pick up on that...

As his eyes scanned the room, he realized someone did call for him. Waving from a table in the back, he saw Charlie and he instinctively gave her a smile, waving back, but he didn't move. Maybe part of him froze but there was a delayed response on the physical end of things. When it finally registered, he was walking towards the table and took a seat opposite of Charlie once he reached it.

"Hey, uh, sorry if I'm late.." He offered as an apology, laughing way too nervously for his own good. "Kinda got caught up in that bulletin board and just kind of lost track of time."

Way to prove that you're not a sloth, Mossos.

[KZOMBI3]

███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓮 𝓗𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰

---

_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 345 ★ ᴏɪᴄ Qᴜᴀᴅ ★ ᴀɪᴍʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴅᴇʀɪɴ'
𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝 ᴄᴀʀɴᴇ ᴀꜱᴀᴅᴀ ꜰɪᴀꜱᴄᴏ
𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐝 ★
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. The Saint @boreas}

---

The sounds of static, popping and cracking, from the record spinning idly on the platter as the stylus skips along the surface smoothly filled in the small space of the typically chaotic and empty dorm. Chaos enveloped the small room in a manner that wasn't too out of place for the southern belle. Empty bottles littered the floor near the bed and top of her desk pushed against the wall where a number of books and notepads lay open. Pens of varying styles and colors look as if they were just tossed on the surface - some even ending on the floor to join those bottles. Smells of last night's dinner lingered through the shared living space of the third floor dorms, seeping beneath the door and filling Birdie's room with the mouthwatering aroma. She would definitely be having some leftovers tonight.

To: zach attack😝💖
HELP 😣
idk what to dooooo an I need help
i sent umm,... a pic to arty 😖 an he hasn't responded

Meadow eyes scanned her phone and the conversation that began the previous evening played catch up with her addled mind. Even though Zach mentioned he was with Katie - something that would definitely be used to fuel some teasing at lunch - she was more preoccupied with the thought of drinks and even better company. "Mmmhm margs..." licking her lips she finally rolled herself from her sheets and hopped into the shower.

In no time at all Birdie was walking across the quad, swept up in the mass exodus that was shuttling towards the numerous boards all lined with rush week information; clubs, sports, after school tutoring sessions. It was difficult to find a vacant piece of cork with all the paper that had found a home there. Upon a closer inspection and just pure curiosity on her part, Birdie's eyes skimmed across the Polaroid pictures tacked on like some fifth grade vision board project. _{'The handwriting is neat and pretty at least...'} There was nothing else for the blonde to do but move on from the list that labeled her and her friends. With all the eyes on her, darting back and forth from her picture on the board to her standing there, it wasn't like it was something new... it just wasn't something she wanted to deal with what with the Arthur issue taking front and center in her head. Instead, Birdie took off at a brisk pace ignoring the pointed stares and board behind her - a brave soul even called out to her as "A pretty face," a jab to her appointed title by the elusive Ms Fortune.

Another text message was sent off to Zach in hopes to catch him before she had to bunker down and actually study for her bio chem 2 quiz. A roll of her eyes, _{'Fucker's gonn' kill us with this. It ain't even a test what in the hell're they thinkin'?!'} she couldn't help but berate her professor mentally as she continued her tedious trek to god-knows-where. Too much bobbin' around inside her supposed empty little head to pay enough attention to her surroundings. People milling about for 'the Rushening', gathering at established booths of sports clubs and the like, or even taking their sweet time in setting up - either way this area was going to be packed within the hour. Ms Fortune's little project was to make sure of that.

Picking her head up she caught sight of someone she thought was long gone. A summer fling from back home. A summer full of memories she'd rather not relive. Or a conversation she definitely did not want to have. A chill ran up her spine halting her in place. But as she blinked hard to get the memories to leave she noticed that no one was there. "The mind playin' tricks on me... gotta be the cheap booze." Though as she did scan the yard from her position she caught sight of a hunk of a man. Taking off as quick as she could, a large smile plastered on her face and his name shouting from her lips, Birdie threw herself onto the first string quarterback. "ZACHHHHHHHH~! How was your date with Katie?"

Though she didn't see what caused the air to turn crisp, that little, lingering feeling was still there. Only held at bay by the warmth the Bishop boy provided.

[smarty0114]

Location: Dorms -> 155° Cafe

Interactions: Andreas Mossos @metanoia

ootd

---

---

Charlie Baker’s fifteenth morning at OIC did not seem very different than all the others. She awoke, from a distant dream that left no trace, aside from the pit of discomfort that rested within her gut. This school was… a lot. In her first two weeks she’d already failed her first quiz ever, and had received no fewer than twelve, truly icy stares. Apparently a trust fund gave you a lot of time to practice making other people feel like shit, without even opening your mouth.

She showered and dressed without incident, though there was a pang of melancholy. Charlie had come to OIC with a suitcase full of clothes she’d designed and made for herself, but outside of the random shoots she’d done, she hadn’t had the balls to wear any of it herself. She had naively thought that this school would have a place ready for her, that she wouldn’t have to carve out her own. She wasn’t sure she could handle it, if one of these kids came for her clothes. That would hurt too much.

There was of course, still the hole in the universe where her dad ought to be, or at least, answers about him. She’d been naive in that too; hoping that she would just stumble into a man she’d never met, who probably didn’t know about her, and feel the connection that some people don’t, even after knowing their father all their lives. As she began the trek towards the quad to meet Dre, she couldn’t help but feel silly, and not in the good way. That, was not how she liked to be with Dre. He was one of the few trust fund babies she enjoyed, but he intimidated her in a way. Everyone here did.

Back in New Mexico, she’d been the big fish. Sure, being an army brat didn’t give much in the way of stability, but it gave plenty in terms of experience, and alone time to read. Here though, with kids who’d been spoonfed Ivy league critical thinking skills since they were old enough to toddle? She was starting to think that New Mexico had simply been a pond, and that she was a freshwater fish who’d somehow gotten themselves out into the ocean. No. You belong here. You got in, same as everyone else.

That affirmation carried her to the gate. She was almost starting to come out of this self-pitying funk, might’ve, if it hadn’t been for that stupid fucking bulletin board.

Brat

There it was, written for everyone to see, just beneath a picture of her laughing. A piece of her recognized a few other faces up there, but her consciousness was closing in on itself now, swirling around that one word, scrawled in such nice handwriting. She hugged her bag to her chest and pushed through the crowd and into the quad, walking as fast as she could towards the cafe.

She could feel her eyes burning with unspilt tears. She hated crying, refused the catharsis whenever she could, but right now, she could do no such thing. The emotions of the last two weeks had reached a boiling point, and the dam within her was finally bursting. She felt a tear slip out and her hand moved violently to her face, wiping it away. She was vaguely aware of stepping into the cafe, pushing through the line and to the bathroom.

She gripped the sink and looked at her reflection in the mirror. A sob broke out, quickly muffled by her arm. She found her way into one of the stalls, locking it and sitting down on the toilet, pulling her feet up so that she might hug her knees to her chest. Why the fuck did you come here?

---

She was only in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, it turned out. She thought when she stepped out, finally satisfied that her eyes weren’t a red, puffy mess, that Dre would be waiting for her, truly perturbed at her for wasting his time, but she didn’t see him anywhere. She took a booth by the door, and sat down, somewhat gloomier than normal, but otherwise none the worse for wear. If there was anything she hated more than tears, it was others knowing that she’d shed them.

She saw him come in, and shouted his name, waving with the kind of enthusiasm that said, “Hey! I definitely wasn’t just crying in the bathroom!” Watching Dre almost give himself whiplash in an attempt to find her voice brought a much needed smile to her face though. "Hey, uh, sorry if I'm late. Kinda got caught up in that bulletin board and just kind of lost track of time."

If Charlie noticed anything wrong with Andre, she didn’t say anything. She let out a commisarating sigh, and shook her head. “What the fuck is with that thing anyways? Is that like, real? Like do people actually care about what we do?”

[Legion02]

White makes the first move

Isabelle

Location: Isabelle's Dorm room
Mentions: Lorelei Cardoso, Callipe Lee_@Horangi & Alessio Basile_@KZOMBI3

---

---

“OPEC agrees to raise production quotas.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx“PM of India denounces further aggressions of Pakistan.”

“EU raises the question on availability of lithium."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx"Australia starts solar tower project.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx“S&P 500 pre-market down by 0.78%”

Isabelle’s eyes were going over the absolute deluge of information. The internet didn’t offer such a vast amalgamation of information. She had to make it herself. It screened news sites 24/7. Hunting for keywords. In the 21st-century information’s value went through the roof. Entire wars were fought with 0s and 1s. Despite the cold, calculated, and seemingly uncaring nature of the information gathered by Isabelle’s program, she felt at home with it. Submerged in all the information. To here the random article titles weren’t just a projection of how messy the world was. No she saw a globe covered by neurons. Some big, some small. All were firing constantly. All were connected. Sometimes across oceans. It all made sense to her.

A buzz pulled her from her trance. She checked her phone. Her morning alarm was going. Morning? Already? She turned to look at the screen a bit further. Of course, it was morning. Frankfurt was closing soon. London would close an hour later. Isabelle's room sometimes felt disconnected from time itself. It was always dark, save for the digital glow of the screens. "Another night of no sleep." Isabelle sighed. She glanced over at the literal pile of books and paper. At least she was ahead of the coursework. A small voice inside wished Dr. Yoshinaga would ease up a little. But she suppressed it. It wasn't hard. Hers would never be an easy life. By now she would have to accept that.

She spun her chair again to face the screens. With a few key presses the program – like a grimoire – sealed itself again. Ready to be opened again only with the right password. There really was only one person she was afraid would steal it. It wasn't in Alessio's nature to steal. But then again, he had done so before. This program was one of the few ways she could be better than him, and she wouldn't let him take something valuable from her again. After that, she shoved her rolly-wheeled desk chair back, leaned backward, and rubbed her eyes.

Morning brought dawn, and dawn brought people. And people were messy, frightening creatures. Isabelle didn’t like most of them. They were always talking about something unnecessary like going to a party or who to ask on a date. Pretending like it all wasn’t just the basest of instinct to survive and procreate that drove them. That which they called love was nothing but a bunch of chemicals in their brain making them happy and giddy. And because of that, they say ‘I do’ and choose to live miserably for twenty-five years. Why did life insist that she'd have to share the same space with them for at least eight hours a day?

And then a small alert pining on her screen caught her attention again.

Miss Fortune had made her first move. Tens of pics were already floating on the internet of the bulletin board. Or was it a bounty board? Might as well be. Isabelle recognized some names. Some she didn’t. Her brother was a target, of course. She had made the list as well. Interesting.

She reached over to the chess game laying beside her and moved a pawn up two squares.

Then she cracked her knuckles and pulled herself back to her computer. Miss Fortune assured anonymity. Which was good when you ended up hurting someone. Of course, Alessio was too perfect to be caught doing something truly painful. The most she had of him right now was a bunch of pics of him being a bit tipsy. Useless, because apparently, people think he looks charming when inebriated. She did have the next best thing. Something that she paid quite a bit of money for, just to make sure the photoshop would be of quality.

She looked at the picture one more time. It had been on the internet for a short while before it was removed. But the base was long enough online for Isabelle to save it. Over the course of the summer, she had it changed. The original showed Lorelei and Alessio kissing. Though considering Lorelei's later posts it appeared whatever they were didn't work out.

Now Isabelle was about to call that a lie. The details weren't too subtle. The scoreboard in the background showed the last match's score together with the date and the name of the visiting team: the Standford Cardinals. A few subtle changes in the background would make it very convincing that Lorelei and Alessio really were kissing just a few days ago.

Isa looked over the picture one more time. In truth she had it made as a contingency during the summer. Just something to cause some trouble early on. That was before Calliope had come back. 'The one that got away'. Now was the best time to use it. To make sure she and Alessio would stay away from each other just a little longer. Buying Isa more time.

"I'm sorry, Lore." She said looking at the picture. "This will hurt him more than it will hurt you." And with a few keystrokes, she had sent in the picture. First blood.

Quite satisfied she leaned back to see her handiwork. But she didn't take too long reveling in her own satisfaction. It was time to open the hunting season on Alessio, and now Calliope the Traitor as well. Perhaps, with a stroke of luck, she would actually find something to break him this year.

[g1ngersnapped]

Axel Maddox

Location: dorm -> 155° Cafe
Interaction: Gareth Maddox(phone), Jamie @smarty0114

---

---

“You can’t do it.” Axel grit his teeth through his words “You can’t keep me here for another fucking term!”

If Axel’s grip on the phone was any stronger, it would snap in half. This obviously meant it was time for the monthly call with his brother- and it was going about as well as it always did.

”God, not this talk again.” He heard Gareth’s exaspherated sigh from the other end of the line, which onlt pissed him off more ”We can talk all day about what I can and cannot do, it doesn’t change anything. You’re staying at OIC, that’s final”

“Fuck you, I am.” With a scoff, Axel paced around his room, stomping on the hardwood floor as if the boards were his brother’s dumb face “This is bullshit, you can’t keep me here against my will, like I’m your ugly pet hamster. It’s fuckin’- abuse!”

“Fucking spare me, Axel.”

“You know how easy it’s gonna be to get them to kick me out?” It wasn’t the first time he’d made this threat, and something made him feel like it would not be the last “Some destruction of school property, and boom, that’s it, easy peasy. I’ll be back home, breaking your property instead, you actual psychopath.”

“Fine, go ahead then. Get expelled. I guess that means you don’t want your inheritance anymore, right?”

Axel could feel his jaw tightening. Fucker. Threats went both ways in the Maddox family interactions.

“You know the deal. No degree, no trust fund. Dad made it crystal clear in the tiny letters.” He could hear the smug, satisfied smile on his brother’s face on the other end of the line “What’ll you be doing after your expulsion, with your great set of skills? Get a job? You’re gonna flip patties at McDonalds, Axel?”

“Eat shit.”

“Gladly. You’re gonna make me some to prepare to serve under Ronald?” Another sigh- it’s like he does it on purpose “This is what’s best for you. Everything I’m doing is for-“

“Yeah, yeah, great fuckin’ talk, like always, Gareth.” Axel cut him off, not being able to stomach anymore lies that were bound to come out of his brother’s mouth “Have a good time cheating on your girlfriend, you leech. Don't call again.”

”Ax-“

Hanging up on Gareth was always cathartic, but this time, it did little to make Axel feel better. Gareth had done it, he had placed the cheese down and trapped Axel like he was the world’s dumbest, angriest rat. And this place was the word’s dumbest, most pretentious mousetrap. He wanted to scream.

“FUCK!”

He screamed.

There was no point in fighting it. If there’s one thing Axel was, it was realistic, and he knew damn well he wouldn’t last a day out there without money. He hated it here, but he also hated it home.

The phone in his hand buzzed, and Axel’s expression immediately turned into a scolw, expecting to see Gareth’s contact on the screen again, bothering him, since bothering is the only thing he knows how to do.

“@jamiethegreat: im bored what are you doing”

Well, maybe some things were better here.

Going back and forth with Callaghan for a while, he decided to go meet him at the café. It’s not like he had anything better to do, other than sit here and feel miserable for himself. One more second letting his anger marinate and he'd give into the cliche of putting a hole in the wall.

He put something decent on, and headed out for the 155. Axel raised an eyebrow as he walked, seeing an unordinarily big group of people around a bulletin board of all things. And were some of them…looking at him?

No, no, fuck that. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. If it’s important, Callaghan will tell him. Axel ignored the board, and the looks, put on his headphones and moved on with his life.

---

---

Stepping into the café, he gave the place a quick look around. He spotted that Mimsy girl with Vaupel- whose presence Callaghan couldn’t be happy about. Axel had no problem with her, but he did find their little rivalry pretty amusing. Jamie clearly did not.

Speaking of which, there he was, sitting and looking like the nervous wreck he usually was. Axel almost smiled, making his way to sit across from him.

“You better not have gotten me anything shitty, Callaghan.” He leaned back on the chair, eyeing the boy across from him

[WindsOfFate]

_{Location: OIC Dorm - Room 443
Mentions: Andre @metanoia & Laren @Venus
OOTD}

---

---

The disrespectful alarm blared an iconic song from the 90s. It was Monday, the start of another week of classes. A large hand grabbed the phone emitting the horrid song. A few taps later and the phone is silent, but a body turns beneath the expensive sheets. Today was like any other day for him. He slowly reached up to rub the crusties out of his eyes. He was still disgusted by what he'd read on why the eye develops a crust. Light permeated the curtains, a few rays managing to find holes to shine through. He stretched, unsure how to start his day. Looking down at his phone, he noticed a few missed calls, one of them from Jeim. He hadn't spoken to anyone over the past couple of days. It wasn't like him not to talk to people, he was a social butterfly, or rather a moth, at least that is what Jeim called him. He missed his family. They hadn't called in three weeks, since the beginning of school, and every time he called them there was no answer. He hoped everyone was alright, but even his aunts and cousins didn't reply. It was like they'd put him on silent, and the feeling sucked.

Legs dangling off the bed, he felt the cool wood beneath his feet as he stood up. He had a morning routine. Shower, shave, get dressed and then head to the cafe for a bit before heading to class. Phone in hand, he made his way towards the fridge. Peering in, he saw a sandwich belonging to Andre. He still didn’t know what to make of the guy, and the last conversation they had was awkward. He was still trying to figure out why Andre didn’t like him, but Andre had made it pretty clear that there was distaste between them. It took a lot of restraint for Riley not to drive Andre’s head through the wall. Grabbing the sandwich, he forcefully tossed it into the trash can, a loud bang filling the dorm. Riley nearly slammed his fist into the wall when his phone vibrated. He turned it over in his hand and read the text from Jeim. It was a picture of the board stationed for everyone to see. He looked over the picture and rolled his eyes at the name he was given. Bull. He really didn’t have time for some dumb-ass bulletin board with different students on it given nicknames by some anonymous drama starter, but for some reason, his eyes continued to scan the picture. Riley moved his fingers to type a reply, but stopped and decided against it. He saw Laren’s photo, then Andre’s, and his eyes finally landed on Jeim’s and John’s.

He needed to shower and clear his mind of the drama. He didn’t know what he’d do if he saw Andre right now, or how he’d respond to Jeim who he hadn’t spoken to in a week. Two more years and he would graduate and leave all of this behind. Two more years and he would still be a simple memory to Laren, and nothing more. Two more years and he could go back home and handle his responsibilities.

[KZOMBI3]

███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
𝓐𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸 𝓑𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓮

---

_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. ʙᴇᴅ ⟼ ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍ
𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝 ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ꜱʜɪᴛ...
𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐝 ⟼
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. The Saint @boreas The Valedictorian & The Kyle @Legion02}

---

Before the sun rises Alessio likes to be dead asleep. Snuggled nice and tight under his sheets, warmed through the cool night. Pillows smothering him. Ideally, with a beautiful woman there beside him. Limbs tangled in one another. And then when they do finally find it within themselves to wake from their slumber, perhaps a round or two before they go about their day.

Instead, Alessio found himself being shaken from his dreams of his ideal woman by the sound of Johnny banging on his door calling out for him to get up and get ready for training. Checking the time the Basile rolled his eyes with a groan; _５:３０. Of course he would come to rouse him. It's not like they didn't do enough during the game over the weekend. No, that wouldn't make sense in Brooks' mind. Another eye roll. It wasn't that he disliked the dude. Quite the opposite actually. They were good friends and even better teammates. It's just that... well, there were a lot of things that went right over the guy's head. And sleeping in after a hard won victory — and a bender — was one of them.

"Yeah, yeah. I hear ya! I'll be out in 10," shouting from his still prone position, Sio somehow found it in himself to push up from the plush mattress and tumble gracefully from the sheets. Dragging his feet as he shuffled around for his workout gear and bag. When all was said and done he left to meet up with his personal alarm clock.

“𝙰𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜, 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. 𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎!” Coach's dismissal wasn't unlike the others they had all heard before. All Sio wanted to do was get cleaned and get outta there as fast as he could. If he was quick enough about it he might even be able to get a short nap in before he was expected back at practice later. He took notice, however, of his best man, his partner, his lifeline — his hubby; dragging his feet. Something clearly on his mind. It bothered the New Yorker to no end that his best friend was struggling with something and not mentioning it to him. Before he could get a moment to get across the crammed locker room to he saw Zach dip outta there, his face buried in his phone.

It was then he heard the snickers and murmurs bouncing off the tiled surfaces amidst the plodding feet, the rustle of clothes and towels, of water spraying from the shower heads. Sio could feel the damp hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Goosebumps rising along his arms and chill down his spine. It wasn't a fear response, so what — "𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎!" "𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙱𝚘𝚢..." "𝙰𝚗 𝙴𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐?" "...𝙼𝚜. 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚎..." The comments weren't lost on him and instead of just brushing them off he found himself rummaging around for his own phone.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐲

If Alessio Basile took anything away from this... stunt, it was that this was free publicity. Aside from his note worthy plays on the field and his prowess in the bedroom, it was only fair that the rest of the school know his name and all that comes with it. Inside, he was concerned. Concerned at the angle of the picture of him that Ms. Fortune chose to use. Who could have taken it? When did they take it? How did they get it? Too many questions and not enough answers. But what really struck him as worrisome was that not but a few photos above his own laid his twin's. An attack on the family? The business? Or them personally? _{What in the fucking shit...}

[GirlOnMarz]

^{LOCATION — Dorms —> OIC Quad
INTERACTING WITH — Lorelei Cardoso @Horangi;
Mentions Jeim Seu Yang @WindsOfFate
OOTD}

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Tyler Andrews had been a morning person for as long as she could remember. While a good majority of her peers partied all night, got drunk, and flopped into bed (whether it be their own or someone else's) at around four in the morning, Ty was usually in bed before eleven, and spent her mornings getting in an early workout session before class. The morning that marked the beginning of the "Rushening" was no different; she'd hopped out of bed at around six o'clock and, after taking about an hour to get herself together, headed straight for the weight room for strength conditioning. With music from her favorite playlist blasting through her headphones at nearly max volume, she spent a little over an hour and a half going through her usual morning gym routine. It wasn't until after Ty had finished her workout that she finally looked at her phone, and her eyebrows instantly raised in surprise at the number of notifications she'd received while she was busy.

"The fuck are you guys even talking about..." the young woman muttered under her breath as she opened up a message in the school group chat. "Bulletin board? What?" It was shortly after then that another notification caught Tyler's eye; someone had DM'ed her a photo on Instagram, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes when she finally saw the bulletin board that had everyone all up in arms. "Ms. Fortune strikes again," Ty read with mock enthusiasm as she zoomed in on her own picture. "God, she could've at least had the decency to use a cute picture of me... the VIP?"

Although Tyler had been a student at OIC for almost three semesters now, she didn't know a whole lot about this "Ms. Fortune" person besides the fact that she obviously had a lot of free time on her hands. She simply wasn't the type to feed into gossip, and didn't really pay any attention to whatever tea had been spilled the year before. However, the young woman couldn't help but feel a little irritated at the fact that Ms. Fortune had chosen her as one of her victims for the year; After all, today did mark the first day of the Rushening, and Tyler didn't want anything to interfere with her chances of becoming a member of Alpha Phi Nu. A message in the group chat from Jeim did help calm her down a bit, though. "Most of what they post is just hearsay," she repeated aloud as she gathered her things and walked out of the first floor gym, "Nothing to it... no one cares." At least, she hoped no one would care.

Shortly after Tyler finished showering and getting herself ready for the rest of the day, the young woman left her dorm and began making her way towards the Quad. She couldn't help but notice a few people staring her way as she strolled down the sidewalk, and though she would've liked for them to be looking at her because of the banging ass outfit she'd thrown on, it was undoubtedly because of her face being plastered on those damn bulletins. Tyler mentally scolded herself for not running and tearing down her pictures when she had the chance, but then figured that it probably wouldn't have made that big of a difference anyway. The damage had already been done. So, as if she were completely unbothered, Ty simply shot anyone who looked her way a sickening grin. "You see something you like?" she found herself saying to quite a few people on her way to the quad. "Staring a hole in my fucking face like I won't beat you up in front of ya lil friends..."

And once she finally did make it to the bulletin board to see everything for herself, the first thing Tyler did after taking a moment to see who else had been deemed an "Elite" was send a text message to one of her closest friends. "Lora, girl..." Ty spoke aloud as she furiously typed, the irritation in her voice growing the more she noticed people glancing her way. "Or should I say... Angel? Have you seen this bulletin board BS yet? This Ms. Fortune broad better hope I don't catch her out in the streets, cause once I find out who she is I'm gonna throat punch her."

[Venus]

^{LOCATION — All Around Campus —> OIC Quad
INTERACTING WITH — Herself
Mentions — Too Many To Count
OOTD}

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There were many adjectives used to describe the majestic creature that was Lola Russo. Her father would say she’s his princess, his baby girl. Her mother would say she’s her mini-me, her shining star. Her friends would say she’s fun, with a great sense of humor, a chill personality and always willing to help those on her good side. Her flings would say she’s passionate and insatiable: pure and straight up fire. Ex-Fling #1 would say she’s an angel, someone he can count on no matter what. Ex-Fling #2 would say she’s psychotic, a mistake he’d never make again. Her fans would call her beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, a queen, #goals, someone they could only wish they could be. Her haters would call her spoiled, conceited, arrogant, and a bad example for the teenage girls that so avidly followed her life and her career on social media. When it came down to it, everyone was entitled to their opinion of her-- whether it was delightfully right or woefully ignorant and wrong. But if there was one word that all of these individuals could undoubtedly agree upon, it was that Lola Russo was disciplined as all hell.

You see, despite the endless tabloid gossip and rumors, Lola’s body was all natural. She flaunted her body in the way she did because she worked hard every day for every bit of it. The young model had a strict diet and workout routine she stuck to come hell or high water-- no matter if she was jet setting in Milan, vacationing in Bali or chilling back at home in her LA penthouse. Mondays were for cycling, Tuesdays and Thursdays were for kickboxing, Wednesdays were for pilates, Fridays were for weight training, and Saturdays were for yoga and pole fitness. In normal circumstances, she would go to the university’s gym, which wasn’t half bad if she was being honest. But after walking in one day and spotting a member of her ever-growing Undesirables list, she decided it was best that she take her business to the luxury gym at Rose Point.

While the majority of her peers slept in, Lola was up at 5:30 AM, enjoying her daily, early morning jog around campus before her extra hour of more specialized exercises. With her airpods blasting songs from her personalized workout playlist and the cool air caressing her face, the young woman could feel her muscles comfortably stretching out in preparation for the upcoming day ahead. It was towards the end of this jog that Lola’s eyes fell upon the bulletin board on the quad, standing tall in its easel for all of the OIC population to see. Frowning with curiosity, the Russo girl stopped on her tracks and slowly approached the board.

There, on the top-right corner of the frame, was a Polaroid picture with her face on it. The image was one taken from her Instagram, used in one of the old campaigns she’d done earlier that year. Underneath the photo, perfectly spelled in neat cursive, was the word Barbie.

The blonde bombshell grinned widely at the very appropriate moniker bestowed upon her. Contrary to her classmates, Lola wasn’t the least bit phased at landing a spot on Miss Fortune’s less than desirable radar. Being in the public eye for as long as she had meant that many aspects of life were up for the consumption and judgement of fans, followers and haters alike. There were very few secrets of hers that hadn’t already been exposed, and none of these presented a significant harm to her, her loved ones or her career.

Upon a further, closer inspection of the board, there were plenty of other faces that Lola recognized in this board-- of friends and foes alike. She almost clapped her hands and squealed in delight when she spotted the Polaroids of her ex Eden Reyes and her replacements Tyler Andrews and Mimsy Vuong, getting preemptively excited at the thought of them suffering the same heartbreak and humiliation she felt after knowing He Who Must Not Be Named had moved on from her so quickly. Her excitement shifted into worry when she saw Alessio and Zach were on the hit list as well, and she made a mental note to text them about it later. The worry bubbled up into anger when she realized that Andre Mossos’ name had also made the cut, and she made another mental note to follow Miss Fortune’s blog to ensure she would be ready to go to war if they so much as dared to hurt him. Finally, the anger simmered down to curiosity when noticing the likes of the Callahan siblings, her ex-flings Riley Antorini and Jeim Seu Yang, Laren Hastings, her boyfriend Johnny Brook, and Arthur Lynch and Birdie Harding, wondering what kind of secrets they harbored. Whatever they were, they must be saucy enough to warrant the attention of someone like Miss Fortune.

All in all, this was certainly gearing up to be a hell of a year.

[WindsOfFate]

_{Location: OIC Teacher’s Offices → Headed to 155° Cafe
Mentions: Tyler Andrews (@Ken), Katie Callaghan (@smarty0114), Riley Antinori
OOTD}

---

---

He played the previous night over and over in his head. The drinks he downed one after the other. His head still spinning even now as he walked towards the teacher who was so lucky to have him as an assistant. He had a few papers to drop off for them, but his mind was everywhere except OIC and it showed on his face as he moved with a purpose, passing students who glanced at him with lust-filled eyes. How did he manage to wake up in bed with two girls he didn’t know? On top of that, how did he end up naked? The morning kiss one of them dared to give him was proof that he’d done more than he thought that night and the thought caused his pace to quicken. After trying to wrangle in everything swarming in his head at that moment, he remembered excusing himself from the room and locking himself in his bathroom until the girls decided to leave.

What was wrong with him? He was spiraling and he didn’t know why. He was passing all of his classes with an A. He was focusing on making the Dean’s List again, but what happened between him and Zach still bothered him. He thought they were good until he told Zach how he felt, then things started to change. It hurt. He loved spending time with Zach and now it was more of a “I’ll see you when I see you” situation and he didn’t feel comfortable in it. Did Zach even consider him a friend or just someone to use when he needed help with his assignments? Zach had given him no explanation, and he felt that it would stay that way.

Jeim turned the corner and slammed into another student. Andrew. It was no secret that Andrew liked him. He made it blatantly obvious on every social media platform he was a part of. Still, it was cute but Jeim didn’t lead him on. He explained his positioning, but that didn’t stop Andrew from being flirtatious.

“Well, well, sexy. I see you recouped from the party last night,” Andrew said after checking to make sure Jeim was alright. The collision had knocked them both back, but neither had hit the floor.

“Andrew, I would say it’s a pleasure, but I’m running…” Jeim stopped in mid-sentence as he thought about what Andrew said. “Wait, you were at the party?”

“Yea, yea I was. You were lit. I’ve never seen you like that. You were dancing and we made out. It was a complete turn on.”

“Okay Imma stop you right there, let’s just go about our day alright? You have a good one Andrew,” Jeim said as he smiled and walked briskly away from Andrew.

Andrew watched as Jeim walked away, a grin on his face as he disappeared around the corner.

“Call me later, I gotta ask you something,” Andrew called after Jeim.

----

“Professor, sorry I’m late, I have the papers you asked for,” Jeim said. He gently placed the stack of papers on the teacher’s desk and smiled. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

“Thank you, Mr. Yang. Keep up the good work. I hear you’re helping more than just me this semester. Are you sure you’re not overdoing it?”

“I’m good. I still have free time so it’s all good. You have a great day Professor. Oh, I’m headed to the cafe. Did you want anything?”

“Ahh, no thank you Mr. Yang, but I do appreciate it. Be safe and slow down. I fear if you keep at this pace you’re going to burn yourself out.”

“Thank you for your concern Professor, but I will be alright. See you tomorrow.”

Jeim left without another word, headed to the quad to drop off some papers for the Librarian. She’d asked him for a little help and he had obliged. As he walked through campus, he couldn’t help but notice the various looks he got from students he didn’t know, and some he did. Everything came to light when he saw the bulletin board with all of his friends and associates’ pictures. Lola, Zach, Riley, Laren, Tyler, Eden, there were called the ‘Elites' and it made Jeim shake his head as he took a picture of the board.

“Is that Katie? Oh I know she’s livid. That picture is definitely not flattering. Oh hell, and Tyler, she’s probably trying to figure out who posted this. No doubt she’d punch them in the face.”

Surprisingly Jeim didn’t mind the board. He had other things going on that required more of his attention than someone trying to profile them. Still, he wondered why they called him the ‘Icon’ when he wasn’t anything special. After snapping a few pictures of the board, he sent it to Riley. He hadn’t spoken to him in about two weeks after their last encounter ended in an argument. Sighing, he turned and made his way towards the cafe.