[IC] Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

T H E P A C I F I C R O Y A L C O L L E G I A T E & U N I V E R S I T Y
T H E P A C I F I C R O Y A L C O L L E G I A T E & U N I V E R S I T Y

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C O M M E N C E M E N T
C O M M E N C E M E N T

S Y N O P S I S:
S Y N O P S I S:

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P R O L O G U E - W E L C O M E H O M E:
P R O L O G U E - W E L C O M E H O M E:

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It is the beginning of the fall semester of Pacific Royal Collegiate & University's 42nd year. Returning to Dundas Island for their final year at P.R.C.U., Team 21 - Blackjack is finally reunited after a summer apart. Enjoying catching up at the beach before the opening festivities kick off a new school year, the Team begins to notice several new faces around the campus accompanied by the distinct logo of the Alexandria Foundation, their rival school. Reuniting with a day on the beach, Team Blackjack less than delicately navigated their groups' inner dynamics and relationships before sharing their future hopes and dreams over a fire.

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^{|◄ FIRST || LAST ►|}

C H A P T E R 1 - W E L C O M E H O M E:
C H A P T E R 1 - W E L C O M E H O M E:

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As seniors, Blackjack is tasked with helping create this year's Homecoming Trials, perhaps they'll even get to do a test run of their grand masterpiece before being whisked off to the Senior Homecoming Dance. That is of course saying that everything goes according to plan, which, history has a precedent of being otherwise. All while the school is slowly losing accreditation, rendering many of the graduating class' hard work next to null. The morning of the new semester brought about the announcement of the loss of degrees for many of the mainstream programs culminating in a reduced morale for the construction of this year's Homecoming Trial. Despite this, the job was completed only for it to be sabotaged as Blackjack found themselves locked inside.

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^{|◄ FIRST || LAST ►|}

C H A P T E R 2 - H O P E I N H E L L:
C H A P T E R 2 - H O P E I N H E L L:

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Trapped in the Homecoming Trial, Team Blackjack finds themselves in a twisted version of the Foundation's Institute, their escape blocked by a power dampening field while the simulation itself tries to kill them with its lack of safety protocols. Forced to face their fears, insecurities and even themselves, Blackjack is put through the wringer coming out the other side much worse for wear. Outside the Trial, Jim and other faculty members attempt to free Blackjack and find themselves entangled with House Orcinus, a splinter cell of Hyperion's Children. Unmasking the Harbinger, Jim believes they've broken up the pod, but still fears that one of Hyperion's loyal may yet be among Blackjack's own.

^{|◄ FIRST || LAST ►|}

C H A P T E R 3 - T A K E O N M E:
C H A P T E R 3 - T A K E O N M E:

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Still reeling from their traumatic experience of being caught in House Orcinus' twisted Trial, Team Blackjack is licking their wounds and coming to terms with what they saw, felt and experienced within the Hedge. Assigned to replace the injured Thaddeus Finch, Rory Tyler has been charged by the administration with finding out who within Blackjack is an ally to the residual Hyperion's Children. Elsewhere, Blackjack continues to suffer loss as one of their own is kidnapped by the twisted Daedalus and subjected to a horrific experience. But the hits just keep coming as Lorcán battles for his life after being attacked by a creature from another realm, leading to heartbreak.

^{|◄ FIRST || LAST ►|}

C H A P T E R 4 - D A N C E M O N K E Y:
C H A P T E R 4 - D A N C E M O N K E Y:

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The Senior Formal finally arrives after a hectic start to the school year. Though the team is taking time to grieve, they have finally been allotted a breather as students from all senior levels are brought together for a night of dancing, drinking and interpersonal drama. And that's exactly what they got as Daedalus unleashed the horrifying Chernobog in his insatiable pursuit of Amma and Haven. Death and destruction followed in the wake of the Chernobog and in a desperate last measure, the creature was banished from this realm, but not before dragging Amma into the abyss with it.

^{|◄ FIRST || LAST ►|}

C H A P T E R 5 - H U M A N:
C H A P T E R 5 - H U M A N:

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Reeling from the collapse of Pacific Royal Collegiate and University, each member of Team Blackjack and Eclipse have been left picking up the pieces of their broken lives and figuring out what it truly means to be human as they find a new place in this world.

^{|◄ FIRST || LAST ►|}

C H A P T E R 6 - T H I S I S H A L L O W E E N:
C H A P T E R 6 - T H I S I S H A L L O W E E N:

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Following the events of 'Human', the breakneck speed of the semester seems to have slowed down. The Foundation has stepped back on their meddling, there have been no more attacks or deaths and the Team has been able to enjoy a couple of mundane weeks of classes and getting accustomed to the new relationship status quos in their group. With Hallowe'en fast approaching, several students in Team 69 are gearing up to throw the most spooktacular party that Pacific Royal has ever seen.

^{|◄ FIRST || LAST ►|}

C H A P T E R 7 - T B D:
C H A P T E R 7 - T B D:

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TBD

G A M E S T R U C T U R E:
G A M E S T R U C T U R E:

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_{NARRATIVE FLOW: MAIN STORY ► SIDE STORY // SCHOOL EVENT ► DOWNTIME // PERSONAL PLOT ► SCHOOL EVENT // SIDE STORY► MAIN STORY}

M A I N S T O R Y:
M A I N S T O R Y:

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^{R U N B Y: GM(S)
P L A Y E R S: 9-12
O B J E C T I V E ( S ): MOVING THE OVERARCHING PLOT FORWARD}
Main Story segments are the posts which push game forward, advancing the narrative and impacting the world in meaningful ways which have a rippling effect across the collective cast of characters. All players are heavily encouraged to participate in the Main Story; at times, participation will be mandatory.

S I D E S T O R Y:
S I D E S T O R Y:

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^{R U N B Y: GM(S)
P L A Y E R S: 3-6
O B J E C T I V E ( S ): ENHANCES OVERARCHING STORY, WORLD DEVELOPMENT}
Side stories are events connected to the main story that may not necessarily push it forward but enhance the overall narrative and fill in the blanks.

S C H O O L E V E N T:
S C H O O L E V E N T:

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^{R U N B Y: GM(S) or PLAYER(S)
P L A Y E R S: 6-9
O B J E C T I V E ( S ): DEVELOPMENT OF TEAM DYNAMICS & PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS}
A school event will be a story arc that is directly tied to the happenings at P.R.C.U. These events will center around something as simple as the characters taking a class or training exercise together, or a more broad event such as a school dance or banquet. While sometimes these might be one note stories that are self-contained, other times they can and will be tied back into either a main story or a side story's plot.

D O W N T I M E:
D O W N T I M E:

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^{R U N B Y: PLAYER(S)
P L A Y E R S: 1-3
O B J E C T I V E ( S ): CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS}
Downtime is a player-driven segment where you will have the option to simply have your character exist within the world of the RP. These segments allow characters to explore the campus and island.

P E R S O N A L P L O T:
P E R S O N A L P L O T:

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^{R U N B Y: PLAYER(S)
P L A Y E R S: 1-3
O B J E C T I V E ( S ): CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT & GROWTH}
A personal segment is a plot arc centered around a specific character or even characters and guided by their players. These arcs are used to flesh out the character themselves, their struggles and to help them grow. Players are encouraged to work together, to play these out.

I N C H A R A C T E R P O S T F O R M A T:
I N C H A R A C T E R P O S T F O R M A T:

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E X A M P L E P O S T:
E X A M P L E P O S T:

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_{Location: Sub Location, - Primary Location}

Episode Name #1.01: Post Title

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: None

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For the coding below, please only substitute the text in red with your own.

Post Format Code

[COLOR=GRAY][INDENT][INDENT][i]Flashback/Intro Text if Applicable, this space could also be used to [QUOTE][/QUOTE]a previous post, whether of your own or one you're planning on interacting with. Alternatively, one could add [CENTER][/CENTER] around the italics tab to make this space into a defining character quote if there's nothing else that can go here. Players can entirely opt to remove this section in which case they should remove stages from the first [INDENT] to [h r].[/i][/INDENT][/INDENT][h r][CENTER][img]Character Banner[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=SILVER][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Sub Location such as a room or specific building,[/I] - [I]Primary Location, ie Campus or a town/city[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=SILVER][b]Episode Name (Provided by GM) #Episode Number . Post Number in Sequence (ie '1.02'):[/b][/COLOR] [I]Post Title[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][h r][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=SILVER][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]Tags of Players/Names of Characters being interacted with[/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=SILVER][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Previous Post Title[/I][/right][/SUP]
[INDENT]Post Body[/INDENT][/INDENT][/COLOR]

^{*Please remove the space from between the 'h' and 'r' in the [h r] tags to make the horizontal line work.}

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_{Location: Sub Location, - Primary Location}

Episode Name #1.01: Post Title

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Previously: None

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Previously...

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.

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_{Location: Sub Location, - Primary Location}

Episode Name #1.01: Post Title

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: None

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[Lord Wraith]

^{| Crestwood Hollow - 1991}

"Would you like a slice of cheese with that, hun?"

Yoshi Nakamura looked up from the plate of warm pie, the aroma of cinnamon and apple rising steadily into his nostrils while he looked at the waitress in stunned silence.

"Cheese with pie?"

"Oh yeah, folks love it. An apple pie without some cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze. 'Course if that's not your poison, we can always just throw a dollop of ice cream on there if that'd be more to your liking, sweet cheeks."

"Ah, I see." Yoshi bowed his head and shoulders forward slightly, "I will have the ice cream please, I have a bit of what you Americans call a sweet tooth."

"'Course you do, Sugah." The waitress winked, "I'll be right back with this." She stated before lifting the plate from the table and taking it back behind the counter.

Interlocking his fingers in front of him on the table, Yoshi turned his grey eyes towards the diner's window, watching the rain streak down the large pane of glass. Outside, a black sedan pulled into the parking lot, stopping before two men stepped out of the back seat. The driver stayed put, his crimson-lensed sunglasses looking a bit ridiculous on such an overcast day. Entering the diner, the pair of men dusted the water droplets off their long overcoats, the first of two removing his hat before the second followed suit.

Despite fully knowing that Dr. Jonas Lehrer and Director Yakob Kowalski were not related, Yoshi couldn't help but notice the similarity between the two men as they approached the booth.

“Mr. Nakamura?” Lehrer asked, approaching first, “Would you mind if we take a seat?”

“You were invited were you not?” Yoshi gestured towards the bench on the other side of the booth. “Please take a seat, I am told by the waitress that they serve pie with squeezed cheese here.”

Kowalski raised an eyebrow while Jonas was unphased.

“I understand you want to propose a satellite campus for our school.” Jonas started while signalling the waitress to bring coffee for himself and Yakob.

“Yes, if we worked together, I believe we could build something great. Another school would extend accessibility for other Hyperhumans.”

“And you would be running this school?” Kowalski interjected while thanking the waitress as she dropped off a pair of still-warm mugs from the dishwasher before filling them with the piping-hot black liquid.

“Ideally, yes. Although I would have some changes I’d like to make.”

“Such as?” Jonas peered eagerly over his mug while Yakob massaged his temples before cleaning the steam off his glasses.

“My understanding is that at Pacific Royal, you have the students sorted into various houses based on personality is it?” Yoshi began.

“Is that not limiting for the students? Your school should encourage individual growth, not limit them to two or three defining traits. At my school, we would be abolishing such a system and encouraging the students to develop and mature during their time to come into a true identity of self.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Kowalski interjected. “We train the students to work together, to see the commonality in one another. In addition to the House system, students are placed in teams to learn to work with people different from themselves.”

“I understand it's a military model, but not all of us are trying to train our own private army.” The cold reply was followed by a prolonged silence as Yoshi continued to enjoy his pie while waiting for a response.

“Clearly,” Kowalski started, clearly his throat aggressively before he looked at Jonas waiting before the pair exchanged a knowing nod.

“We are at an impasse. I don't see how we can allow a satellite campus to be run by someone whose ideology is so different from our own.”

“I understand. Though I do wish you would reconsider. I have many resources at my disposal. I assure you, my offer is most generous.”

Jonas stood first, placing a couple of bills down on the table to cover both Yoshi’s meal and the coffee.

“Money has never been a motivator for me. I wish you luck though, you’ll need it in this world.”

Yoshi watched the pair of men exit the diner, climbing into their car before their driver pulled away.

“They lack your vision.” The voice of Miguel Ramos said from the booth behind Yoshi. Taking his last bite of pie, Yoshi continued to watch the door while replying.

“They do not know it yet, but one day when their guard has fallen, everything they possess will be mine.”

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Nature Trails - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean}

Welcome Home #1.001: The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: None

"I suppose y'all wonderin' why I asked you here."

Jim barely held a straight face as the sentence left his mouth. He shook his head in disbelief before tugging the reins and steering the horse between his legs onto the coastal path. Beside him, Miranda offered a reassuring smile.

"Just because Jonas did that, doesn't mean that you need to. Sometimes the best way to embrace change is to break the expectations."

Jim nodded appreciatively in response.

"I still don't know what y'all were drinking when you nominated me to the big chair. I'm not exactly the paperwork type."

"Director Caspian loved the idea, she agreed almost immediately. After the last five years, everything with Hyperion, I think this is a great chance for the school. We desperately need one with the Foundation breathing down our neck right now." Miranda replied.

"It was going to be between you and Aiden. We both know that with Roth's connection to Jonas and Crestwood Hollow, it would have been a PR nightmare to elect him as the new chancellor."

"Oh," Jim had a wry smile on his face. "So I'm the-"

"-Safe choice?" Miranda interrupted with a smile of her own. "Doesn't take a telepath to know what you were about to say, old friend. And no, you're not the safe choice."

She smiled, pausing before reassuring Jim.

"You're the right one."

The sound of familiar engines overhead signalled the approach of an Albatross. Steadying his horse, Jim looked skyward, watching the bird. He had expected it to turn towards the Eastern island, heading towards the Alpha Base, but instead, its rotors tilted upwards as the Albatross landed in front of the two riders.

From the belly of the vessel emerged a familiar figure. The current director of the Bureau of Hyperhuman Enforcement, Logistics and Protection, Winter Caspian exited, flanked by her security personnel and followed by a pair of women, both dressed in business formal.

“Chancellor O’Neil,” Winter called as Miranda and Jim both dismounted from their horses and guided the pair of animals by their reins.

“I’d like to introduce you to Teresa Torres and Maya Almassian, they’re the representatives from the Alexandria Foundation who have been sent to audit our lovely institution.”

“Mr. O’Neil,” Torres added, extending a hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet in person. Your Director has spoken highly of you, I shall hope we don’t find her to be hyperbolic.”

“Ms. Torres, I’m sure y’all find everything the Director told y’all to be hyperbolic, but I assure yous I am more than capable of running this here school.”

“Miranda Rivers, I’m also a teacher here.”

“And acting Vice Chancellor by my notes,” Torres retorted. “Miss Almassian is my personal Hand. I’ll need her granted with the same privileges and security clearance that you supply me with.”

“I’ll ensure that’s done,” Jim replied, before turning to Winter. “I’m sure you didn’t fly all this way solely to introduce our guests here.”

“Your intuition serves you well, Chancellor,” Winter replied with a weak smile. “I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad news, Pacific Royal has lost several of its accreditations. I’m afraid students in the law, engineering and medical degree programs won’t have their degrees recognized upon graduation.”

“Y’all can’t be serious, so what are they working toward then?”

“We’re doing our best, in the meantime, you’ll have to announce that at the opening ceremony to give them a chance to attempt a transfer. But for the time being, degrees in those departments are essentially just a piece of paper.”

“Well, Ms. Torres,” Jim dryly responded, “Welcome to Pacific Royal.”

“Thank you,” Torres replied, “I believe I am going to like it here.”

---

The atmosphere was tense.

Salt-laden mist hung in the humid air above the pier as the crowd continued to chant their protests. Hastily scribbled signs painted with messages of hate towards Hyperhumans and calls for Pacific Royal Collegiate and University to be shut down were shoved in the faces of the students assembled for the school ferry. Emotions were high on both sides as new and old students alike had to fight to keep the stress of the situation from accidentally setting off their abilities and creating an escalated event.

"Hypes go home!"

"P.R.C.U. is nothing more than an indoctrination camp!"

"Stop funding a private Hype army!"

"Bring back registration! No more Hyperions!"

The Hyperhuman terrorist formerly known as Hyperion had left scars for the Hyperhuman community as a whole that would likely never heal. Public faith in the Bureau of Hyperhuman Equality, Logistics and Protection had all but disappeared following Hyperion's public unmasking as none other than Dr. Jonas Lehrer. It had of course been a ruse, Dr. Lehrer's life and likeness had been stolen by none other than his former colleague and the once head of H.E.L.P., the thought dead, former director Yakob Kowalski.

"No more dead kids!"

"No more Hyperhuman attacks!"

In the wake of this, the Alexandria Foundation seized a foothold in the public's favour. Despite a dodgy reputation in the Western Hyperhuman community, the Alexandria Foundation, its institute and its agents had a nearly flawless reputation with the rest of the world, so much so that their offer was unanimously accepted when they offered to replace H.E.L.P.

"Take back Dundas Island!"

"Hypes have taken enough, it’s time to make them give back!"

The United States was all too happy to unleash the Foundation on the scattered remnants of Hyperion's Children. Despite their leader being gone, the splintered sects of cult-like followers that Kowalski had gathered continued his mission of Hyperhuman Supremacy. With Hyperion and his beliefs intrinsically linked to Pacific Royal, it continued to paint a poor image of the recovering school.

Alyssa Townsend eased her way through the excitable crowd, her brother Oliver watching her back as the pair attempted to move their luggage towards the loading area for the ferry. The redheaded young woman's eyes met a familiar pair belonging to Cassander Charon, his hand tightly wrapped around the arm of his young sister, no doubt the same age Oliver was when he first started at Pacific Royal. Cassander nodded quietly toward Alyssa, picking his fellow member of Team 78, or Firebird, out of the crowd. The pair left their reunion as a quiet acknowledgement to one another, fear keeping their voices silent lest it incite the protestors further.

After what felt like an eternity, the ferry's horn sounded, announcing it was boarding time for Pacific Royal Collegiate & University students. Shuffling up the ramp, Alyssa sighed a breath of relief as the students made it onboard without incident. Other boarding times had been less lucky and more than a few students had to be airlifted directly to the island due to their injuries.

Odd that despite the Foundation’s interest in the island school they couldn't spare a Force member or two to protect the students. The rest of the journey went smoothly as the ferry made good time across the open Pacific.

Sun shone brightly over the blue sea through a clear sky only to be disturbed by a sudden bombardment of mist as the ferry approached the artificial sea wall produced by the island’s defenses to shield it. The wall of coursing water parted, the surface of the ocean rippling from the sea wall retracting to allow the ferry to pass through.

Alyssa breathed a sigh of relief, smiling as she looked at Cassander, Ripley and Oliver.

It was good to finally be home.

---

The Foundation Force waved to the adoring people cheering as the Hyperhuman heroes stood for the crowd. Behind them, a H.I.T. Unit dispatched by the Bureau of Hyperhuman Enforcement, Logistics and Protection cleared up the scene. It took the source of the disturbance into custody under the watchful eye of the Foundation.

Walking the perimeter, the agent suddenly heard a scream. Running to the source of the sound, the agent rounded the corner, spotting a woman crouching on the ground.

“Ma’am?” The agent called looking down the alley, before approaching. “Are you injured?”

There was no response as the woman continued wailing.

“Evans to Scott, I’ve got wounded at my location, I need an EMT over at Bloor and Bathurst.” Harrison radioed to the Senior Agent as he continued to approach the woman.

“Ma’am, I need your consent to help you before I proceed, do I have that?”

A wave of nausea suddenly washed over Agent Evans as the woman clenched her right fist together, the wailing stopping cold.

“No.”

Evans didn't even have time to draw his weapon before an object appeared in the woman’s left hand. A click and a whir echoed through the small alley as a blade materialized in her hand before severing Evans’ head from his body.

Smiling, the woman retracted her weapon while retrieving the agent’s badge and weapons before disappearing up the fire escape.

[Lord Wraith]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.002: Life's A Beach

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Gill Galahad - @Roman}

Previously: TBD

^{| Monday, September 4th, 2028}

The surfboard cut through the glassy surface of the Pacific, following the waves with a rapidly increasing pass. A gout of fire shot from the hands of the bare-chest male as he rocketed himself forward. Still, it wasn’t fast enough as the tube closed in on the teen, dousing his flames and sending him under.

The surf crashed over the head of the sun-bleached tawny brown-haired teen. Taking a quick gasp for air, he emerged from beneath the waves, steam rising off of his hair and face while his hesperidium-hued eyes tried to find his bearings. Playful laughter could be heard from the busy shore, as Lorcán looked towards the student-crowded beach.

The weekend before the Semester kick-off was always the busiest weekend at Pacific Royal. Students new and returning were arriving at the island and enjoying everything the campus had to offer.

Having lived his whole life on the island, none of it phased Lorcán, if anything he took it for granted. But one thing he never tired of was watching the smile grow on the face of a new student the first time they stepped off the ferry.

Climbing aboard his surfboard, Lorcán paddled toward shore.

"For someone who has been on a board since he could walk, you wouldn't know it,” The playful voice of none other than Pacific Royal’s resident movie star called out over the crashing waves through the din of the busy beach.

"The waves are gnarly my dude, guess the water just isn't my element today," Lorcán replied with a smirk before he dismounted in the shallows and picked the board up under his arm. The water droplets continued to evaporate from Lorcán’s torso as he walked up on the sand, seemingly drying before Gil’s eyes.

“Are you looking forward to putting together the Homecoming Trial for this year’s freshmen? It’s tradition for the graduating class to work together creating a new obstacle course.” Lorcán explained before standing his board up and plopping down beside Gil.

“With any luck, maybe the Chancellor will let us run the course before the new class.”

“I find I’m more equipped for emotional labour compared to physical,” Gil said with a smile, “but you know what they say - many hands make light work. You hear a lot of good sayings in the industry, but that one particularly seems to follow me…”

Gil looked up, trailing off and shielding his eyes from the sun as a young girl approached nervously from behind Lorcán; Lorcán followed his gaze before noticing her and welcomed the girl before beginning introductions.

“Gil, this is my ‘baby’ cousin, Ripley Jones,” Lorcán said with a smile, embracing the petite brunette with a side hug. “She’s starting her first collegiate year this fall.”

“Hi,” Ripley replied shyly, before brushing her bangs away from her face, before turning to whisper to Lorcán, _{“You didn’t tell me you knew Gil freakin’ Galahad!”}

A confused look came over Lorcán’s face for a second before bursting into a wide smile.

“Oh yeah, he’s-” Lorcán paused, turning back towards Gil, “-You’re a movie star or something, right?” Lorcán chuckled softly, “Y’know, she actually lives in Crestwood Hollow.”

Gil beamed, standing and brushing off the sand to offer a hand to shake. “Always nice to meet a fan. You know we actually shot on-location for a few episodes. It’s a beautiful town. Would you like a selfie?”

“Of course, she wou-” A sharp elbow to the ribs stopped the words mid-breath as Lorcán was forced to sharply exhale.

_{“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”} Ripley began to whisper frantically, _{“This is so not the way I wanted to meet Gil Galahad.”} She pleaded, tugging at Lorcán’s hand.

“I am so going to get you back for this the minute I find out which one of these girls is A-”

“I think we were leaving after all,” Lorcán said with a smile, cutting Ripley off before tucking his surfboard under his arm. “If I don’t see you before the kick-off ceremony, enjoy the rest of the holiday.”

Turning back to Ripley, Lorcán continued to chat as the pair walked along the beach. All around them students excitedly spent the holiday Monday blowing off steam while they frolicked on the beach. Above them on the seaside cliffs, Lorcán could see even more taking advantage of the island’s numerous trails.

“So, excited for your trials and house placement?” He asked, looking at the young girl.

“Terrified actually,” Ripley replied, “What if I don’t get placed in Canis? Won’t Uncle Aiden be disappointed? The whole family has been Canis.”

“Nah,” Lorcán shook his head, “Mom was in Myotis. Just because Dad, Cass and I are all in Canis doesn’t mean you need to be. You’d be an asset to any House.”

“You’d be a schway Lutra.” Lorcán added with a playful wink, “Speaking of Cass, where is your brother?”

“I believe he said something about getting all the wrinkles out of his dress uniform before the senior dance after the trials.”

“Oh yeah, dude, that totally slipped my mind.”

“Are you going to ask…” Ripley smiled, “Well, you-know-who?”

“I don’t know if she’d say yes,”

“And you won’t until you ask,” The younger girl replied, “Besides, the worst she can do is say no, you’ll be fine either way.”

“See, look how smart you are,” Lorcán replied tousling Ripley’s hair, “Told you, you’d be a rad Lutra.”

“Plus if you’re really concerned about getting into Canis, senior class gets a vote and I know you’ve got two voices on your side.”

“Heads up!” A voice suddenly yelled over the din of the beach as Lorcán looked up just in time to move Ripley out of the way of the stray ball. Watching it hit the ground nearby, Lorcán took a couple of steps towards it before picking up the football at his feet. Looking back towards the familiar face who threw it, Lorcán flashed a smile before he spiralled the ball back towards its owner.

“If I don’t see you at the ceremony, I’ll catch up with you on the Plateau before your campfire trauma dump.” Lorcán replied with a smirk as he turned to take off after the ball.

“My campfire trauma what?” Ripley asked, “But I, what? I don’t have any trauma!” She protested before Lorcán turned to yell a reply.

“You live in Crestwood Hollow! Haven't you seen the show, everyone has something!”

[Hound55]

Last Month Of Previous Semester

Banjo slipped quietly through the back way, around the A.R.C to get to the community farm, sneaking furtive glances behind himself to ensure nobody was watching where he was going.

Just as he had for the last few months when he had spare hours.

"You again..." Laura spoke. "You know you could just come in the front way. But then your friends might see you, hey? And then what would they think?"

"Do I look like I care what anyone thinks?"

"Ah... right now..? Yeah, you do. The usual?"

"Yeah. Yeah, the usual."

Laura smiled. "Go on then. She's already all tacked up. Figured you'd be coming. Just clip a radio."

Banjo was about to open his mouth and she pre-empted him.

"Just take it, its the rules."

Banjo put a raised foot in a stirrup and pulled himself up into the saddle.

He opened his mouth, and Laura faced he other way miming every word he would say perfectly, they'd had this conversation far too often already.

"I'm stickin' to the flats, she's the most sure-footed thing here and I'm me... if I eat dirt, bring the shotgun and put us both out of our misery..."

Laura smiled and turned around. "About that, what if I said I might have something more fun in mind..."

Banjo only gave an unimpressed grimace, that could only pre-empt delivery of his relationship status. "You know--"

"No... not anything like that. Also... ew. I let the stock out to feed in the outer, thought you might want to help me bring them in."

"..."

"...you knew I wasn't gonna stick to the flats. Didntcha?"

"Be a waste of the most sure footed hills pony here, and like you said, you're you." She rode alongside, and handed him a clip-on radio.

They rode out to the hill trails and curled around to start bringing in the ag stock.

"Keep wondering why you take that one. Is it just the--"

"No, it's not the name. Trust me when I say that has nothing to do with it."

"Ahhh... is that why you're embarrassed."

"I take 'er cos she's the best mountain pony here. Two parts thoroughbred, one part Sable Island horse with a bitta Canadian Rustic Pony mixed in. I take her on and off the trails. Could put 'er in tap shoes and dance her back up the hills. Can go anywhere. Do anything."

"But she's a bit small, isn't she? You wouldn't want anything a bit bigger, like Palamon?"

"Palamon's a bloody clydesdale. I'm not pullin' a plough or patrollin' a bleedin' parade. I take Palamon on the slopes, we'd both be in for a ghost train ride..."

Laura smiled. "Ok."

Banjo waited for it. He picked up his pace a bit.

"So it's not because she's called 'Banjo'..." He could hear her smirking in her voice behind him. He stuffed his tongue in his cheek.

"I assure you. It's not a bloody selling point."

"I mean, you see how it could be found funny..."

"Bloody hilarious." He deadpanned.

"So is that why you sneak in the back way. Don't want to be seen riding a little pony called 'Banjo'?"

"Look, she's not named after me! She was called that before I ever got here!"

Laura tried not to openly laugh. Her face hid it poorly.

"It's a gender neutral bloody horse name! A coincedence!"

A pair of cows caught sight of the riders and broke for the safety of the hills.

"And she's a rippa bloody pony at that, I won't have her coppin' no more shit." He opened up Banjo to a gallop and looked to cut the cattle off, but they'd already started their descent. "Aww Hell..." He called out as he saw the cattle break. "Hiy!" He let out a gutteral grunt to the pony and urged her on.

Laura watched as Banjo's tail and hind legs disappeared down the steep descent, and pulled up her own mount. Waiting interminable seconds. She reached back for her clip on radio and called to him, only to be met with silence.

"Banjo? Banjo!?"

A few seconds later the cattle emerged from down the steep hill. She waited a little longer for what chased them back up.

Banjo performed a neat little sideways dressage passage gait back up the hilltop, smirking all the way.

"Told ya... I could have her tap dance all the way back up here."

Laura shook her head, and turned her own horse to get back to task. A clip of his heels into her sides, and Banjo was back at a trot.

They continued bringing cattle in, as the sun slowly descended.

Along the way the pair saw a sagged section of fence. They stopped and Banjo re-staked the post and fixed the tension, whilst Laura watched on.

"Come on... getting dark."

"Well, it'd be quicker if you leant a bloody hand. Whose bloody job is this supposed to be anyway? I'm just a bloke borrowin' time on a rental pony." He planted his foot back in the stirrup and threw himself back over into the saddle again.

"About that..." As the pair rode back towards the setting sun, the in paddock and the stables.

"I'm a senior with no post-grad. Not looking for any fancy law degree or doctorate. Last few weeks now. Most of the community contribution kids are volunteers, but they like us to pick a successor to at least watch over the whole deal. Someone who actually knows what they're doing to make the transition smoother."

"Eh..?" Banjo looked surprised at what he was hearing.

"Awww bloody no. No bloody way. I've got a prime gig set up over at the library now. Took me years to get it all wired. I barely have to do anything at all now. They leave me bloody be. I go in-Smooth ride-Get left alone and I'm in and out."

"Yes. But is that still what you want? You could come out here, ride around, fix a fence and be left alone, with all this."

"You understand that sounded a lot more appealing in your own head before you actually spoke those words, right?"

"There's volunteer kids on community contribution. You train them. You basically do as much or as little as you want. Depends how much you want to delegate. It's all up to you how hands on you want to be."

"What part of anything about me makes you think I want to either have, or be, a boss? Responsible for anything beyond meself?"

Laura ignored his protestations. "Look... just think about it. Give it a few weeks to marinate. If you don't like the idea, let me know, I'll still have a couple weeks to find someone else. But you know all of this. You can fix fences, you can handle the stock, Hell, you're better at handling the hill rides than I am."

Banjo sighed, and looked out at the fast setting sun.

"Don't think I don't know what this is... find yourself a bloody Aussie to put in charge of the sheep dip..."

Laura laughed.

"Just think about it..."

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Farm/The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.003: I've Been Through The Desert On A Horse... Which Shall Remain Nameless

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Nil}

Previously: What? As If There was a whole previous game with aspects of existing continuity? That would be preposterous. Good day, sir! I SAID GOOD DAY!

It was early morning, and despite the forecast for a warmer day, there was still a chill in the morn. It was Canada after all.

Banjo made his way to the Community Farm for his first day in the role. He was supposed to be there earlier buuuut-- well, he was him. He was a little curious to see the kind of kids who'd be waiting for him though.

Supposedly four freshmen. There were people who had been previously working the farm as their Community Contribution, but they all stepped down or transferred after it became news that he'd be in his role. Either because they'd hoped to get the role, or because they otherwise weren't eager to be working in a position "under" him. He had a reputation.

These four however. Freshmen. Didn't know him. Didn't even have the sense to ask. The thought of the job was probably more on their minds than whoever the person caretaking would be.

Banjo saw the four talking and looking confused. They were presumably wondering why nobody else was here. Even if they weren't on time, surely they'd be at the farm doing other duties..? He stood back and considered them with a smirk, before approaching.

He slowly walked towards them rubbing his hands together. One of the students noticed him and turned to face, tapping another on the shoulder and soon they were all aware of him and waiting.

He kept rubbing his hands together as he approached, then gestured to his hands with a nod of his head. Another student caught on and began mimicking him, rubbing his hands together. Banjo nodded and straightened up as if proud that someone had picked up on it, with a widening smile. He kept rubbing his hands together. Others started to pick up on it, rubbing their hands together and smiling, happy to be participating in some kind of ritualistic comeraderie, until Banjo finally broke the silence.

"So who here hasn't 'ad their hand up a cow..?"

The smiles dropped from their faces. Their hands suddenly froze.

He cackled at their reaction. Eventually they all broke and a few started chuckling in relief. Others remained stunned.

"Buncha bloody drongos. It's your first day. But seriously, keep warmin' your hands up. Y'r gonna be milkin' cows. Hey, somethin' tells me, you're gonna be a natural, Lonely Hearts." He said, referring to a quiet, weedy freshman still reeling from his initial joke.

"Umm... You are going to be teaching us how to milk the cows, right Mister..?" A blonde girl asked.

Banjo ended the sentence with a sudden hand gesture.

"Two things, Blondie: First, the word 'teaching' does not exist here. Nobody is teaching anybody anything. You're going to be observing a bunch of boring chores around a farmyard environment and if any of you pick up how they're done by osmosis, then goody for you. Second, there's no Mister here. Least of all me."

A mousey girl next to the blonde girl raised her hand.

Banjo gave a screwfaced "Are you kidding me?" expression, but she continued to raise her hand and wait to be addressed.

Banjo eventually shook his head at her inability to take a hint.

"Yes? Next-to-Blondie?"

"Umm... Shouldn't we, like, introduce ourselves or something?"

"Why? I don't care. Also, Next-to-Blondie, considering the kind of shit and substances you're likely to be getting on your hands comin' round here... it'd be appreciated if you kept them below face level."

"Then how do we ask questions? Also, don't you need to know who we are to fill out our Community Contribution cards?" Asked the remaining boy. Before covering his mouth, realising he hadn't raised his hands.

"You just did it, Hugh. Congratulations on your first stage of personal development. As for the other stuff. It doesn't matter and I don't care. That's going to be a common answer. May want to write that last one down."

He walked towards the milking sheds.

"Now come on, I don't want to piss away all of today dealing with you lot. Day looks too damn good." He looked up at the sun with a smile across his face.

---

---

Banjo sat on the upper flybridge of the Butler's boat in a 'Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds' black band t-shirt and shorts, as the older man whistled and cast another line into the Pacific.

Most of the simple conversation had been had already. What are you hoping to catch? What bait have they got you on? Areas re-trodden to death already.

Dundas Island had a range of fish in its waters from salmon and chinook to halibut, and the bait of choice to the man at the tackle shop was invariably herring, and generally to reasonable success.

It was dull and repetitive, but whilst the older man baited lines, his attention was busy elsewhere and conversation would be nil to stilted.

So Banjo sat up in his chair on the flybridge sunbathing in the traditional sense of the word.

Meanwhile, the man downstairs cutting bait in the mezzanine was getting wary of the silence. Silence and Banjo meant boredom was settling in. Boredom settting in with Banjo was bad news. So silence from the rambunctious young adult was as ominous as rolling dark cloud on the horizon.

"That your classmates over there on the shoreline?" He called up from beneath.

"Possibly. Could be anyone. Most of the school's taken to the beach for the last week without classes. Other than Community Contribution duties, most kids on the island have free days."

The Butler could hear the disinterest dripping off every word. He was happy just to lounge around.

Maybe.

"Yeah, must be. I reckon I see your bird over there on the shore, under the umbrella in a two piece..."

The boat started rocking heavily. It got slightly darker as if passing under light cloud cover and a chilled breeze blew through.

"Oi, careful! What are you doing up there?"

Banjo's breathing quickened and halted, as is body turned blacker than the darkest night and the orange corona surrounded him. Muscles and sinew re-knitted within his flesh and his synapses flared and fired once again from the familiar exquisite sensation. His body stopped seizing and he regained control after the initial change, reverting to his usual appearance. Muscle throbbed with potential.

The boat rocked harder still as there was an almighty splash, as Banjo jumped overboard from the flybridge and started swimming. The Butler steadied himself grabbing onto the bait table.

"Oi! OIII! You little nutcase! Don't jump off the fly! Least of all juiced up to the bloody gills! It's 38 feet and you still damn near tipped her!"

But he was already barely in earshot.

The Butler's smile widened, and he stretched out on on the lounge in the cabin, hands behind his head, and his hat pulled down just above his eyes, glued on the lines.

Another beautiful restful day in paradise.

Banjo powered through the water with long clean strokes. As he got closer he could see he was being lied to, not necessarily that Calliope wasn't there under an umbrella... more that it would have been impossible to tell.

Presumably the cunning old bastard just wanted him off his boat for some more free time.

The thought would normally be enough to make him get back on out of spite, but truth be told he was getting bored stiff anyhow. Fishing made a nice change, but he just went out on the water too much. Almost every day. He didn't understand how he wasn't sick of it. Banjo was done with it and he was only spending a little extra time with him because of the holidays.

As he approached the shore, he worked a little harder and got himself into a wave, to body surf closer to the shore. The wash breaking gently over him. He considered catching another, but he was close enough to shore now, it'd probably be quicker just to do it under his own steam.

With three more strong strokes he found himself at wading depth, and got to his feet for the walk ashore.

He could make out Lorcán's board on the shore, and a grin creased across his face at the thought that maybe it wouldn't be so far fetched that she might be here.

Calli generally did not care for the beach. At all. But she generally had her finger more on the social pulse of what their other team-members were up to, and if there were a few of them here, well that certainly upped the odds.

His shorts squelched, he furrowed his brow and tried to wring out the edges. They'd dry soon enough though. Maybe. Shirt would at least. He took his shoes and socks off and carried them. He'd have to find a rock or something to dry them off on.

[Qia]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.004: Tides of Responsibility:Harper’s Campus Stand

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s):Open to Everyone}

Previously: Nil

Harper sat on the soft sand of the beach, her toes sinking into the fine grains like a gentle embrace. The sun, a warm golden orb, painted her skin with a delicate glow. Around her, the world blurred—the waves, the seagulls, the distant laughter—all merging into a canvas of inspiration. This was rare for her. This kind of serene quiet.

Her sketchbook, slightly worn at the edges, lay open before her. Its pages held the promise of creation, each blank sheet inviting her pencil to dance. She traced her fingers over the graphite smudges—the remnants of past sketches. Each mark told a story—a seagull in flight, a sun-kissed horizon, a familiar face emerging from the void.

If only.

The scent of salt and seaweed hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen. Perhaps she’d put on a bit too much, but the last thing she wanted right before school began was a massive sunburn. Besides, it was a fragrance she associated with freedom—the kind that came from being lost in lines and shadows instead of fear and regret.

Harper glanced toward a distant sailboat, its white canvas billowing against the azure backdrop. Where was it headed? What adventures awaited its crew? She wondered if her sketch could capture that sense of wanderlust—the longing for uncharted waters and distant shores. Perhaps…another time, she thought, her focus returning to the sketch in progress in front of her.

Yet still, she found herself once again distracted. Seagulls wheeled overhead, their cries both raucous and melodic. Their wings dipped and soared, tracing invisible patterns against the sky. Harper imagined their conversations—the secrets they shared as they rode the wind. Perhaps they spoke of forgotten shipwrecks or whispered tales of lost sailors. Or a winged girl. That particular thought brought a smile to her face.

Focus.

Her eyes glued themselves back to the pages of the sketchbook. They were slightly curled, and as she resumed her sketching, the world narrowed between their borders to the character before her—a fierce, vulnerable protagonist. The lines blurred—their stories intertwined.

Art was a sanctuary she’d thankfully picked up after everything had changed. It often pulled her into a place where time lost its grip on her mind. The crashing waves seemed to fade away, leaving only Harper and the character she was bringing to life. Here, she explored the depths of her soul without fear or judgment. With each mark on the paper, she unburdened herself—releasing troubles, fears, and memories.

The Protagonist- yet to be named after many depictions.



Her eyes held the weight of worlds—the kind of gaze that saw through illusions and touched the core of existence. In the graphite lines, Harper captured her essence—a blend of strength and vulnerability, determination, and quiet longing.

1. Eyes: The character’s eyes were always the focal point of the piece. It was the part of a person that Harper knew best. They weren’t merely drawn either; they were etched—a continuous dialogue between artist and paper. Within those irises, secrets swirled—a map of scars, dreams, and broken promises. Harper hesitated as she shaded the corners, where shadows hinted at untold stories. Were they always that distant?

2. Expression: The protagonist’s lips curved—a half-smile, a hint of defiance. She wasn’t a damsel awaiting rescue; she was the architect of her fate. Her jawline bore the memory of battles fought—against both external foes and inner demons. Harper wondered if her own jaw clenched in the same way during sleepless nights.

3. Hair: The wind played with her hair—a wild cascade of ink strokes. It framed her face, a curtain shielding vulnerability. Harper imagined the saltwater tang in those strands—the sea woven into her very being. Perhaps the character, too, sought solace in the waves and whispered her secrets to the tides. Wait no, you’re supposed to be done with that.

4. Posture: The protagonist sits on an invisible shore, legs crossed, spine straight. Her shoulders carried burdens—responsibilities, regrets, unspoken farewells. Harper’s pencil traced the curve of her back, the hollows where wings might sprout. Was she anchored or yearning for flight?

5. Clothing: The character wore simplicity—a loose dress, with her back exposed as if to say, “I fear nothing”. If only.

6. Hands: The hands—oh, the hands! Harper lingered here. They weren’t mere appendages; they were conduits. One hand rested on her knee—the weight of existence. The other could not be seen—an unbreakable connection to something beyond the page, perhaps? Was it hope? Regret? Love?

7. Background: The sea, always the sea. Harper’s pencil blurred the horizon, merging character and ocean. The waves whispered to her—of beginnings and endings, of cyclical tides. Harper wondered if the character yearned for distant shores or found solace in the familiar like her.

8. Vulnerability: Beneath the ink, vulnerability seeped. The character’s chest rose unseen with each breath—a fragile equilibrium. Harper’s own heartbeat appeared to echo in the lines—the rhythm of creation, the pulse of shared existence.

And so, as Harper shaded the final contours, she knew she’d birthed more than a sketch. She’d conjured a mirror—a reflection of her battles, her longing. The character stared back as if saying, “We’re both stories waiting to unfold, aren’t we?”

See, we’re not so different after all, Sisi.

---

A sharp frown etched its way across Harper’s lips, slicing through the tranquil bubble she’d woven around herself. The laughter—the raucous, heedless kind—finally reached her ears, jolting her back to the present. Of course, it never lasted, did it? But surely…surely, they couldn’t be doing that?

Reaching over to her side, Harper’s hand found the megaphone lying there. Its plastic surface was cool against her palm, a stark contrast to the heat simmering within her. She lifted it, the weight familiar—a tool of authority, a conduit for her voice. The character she’d sketched earlier seemed to watch from the paper, eyes questioning. And then, with a clearing of her throat, Harper shouted into the megaphone, her words amplified by the salt-laden breeze:

“No littering, maggots!”

The laughter faltered, replaced by startled glances. The young and obviously new faces froze—a tableau of guilt and surprise. Harper’s frown deepened. She wasn’t a stickler for rules—okay, who was she kidding, yes, she was—but this was her sanctuary—the private cove meant for Pacific Royal’s students and faculty. Not some uninitiated miscreants. The pristine sands deserved respect, not discarded wrappers, and carelessly tossed cans.

With the megaphone still warm from her grip, Harper watched as those caught in the shameful act—the litterers—scrambled like startled crabs. Their laughter dissolved into nervous glances, and they hurriedly picked up their discarded wrappers and half-empty soda cans. Some muttered apologies, while others shot Harper resentful glares. They hadn’t expected a sentinel on this private beach, and her shout had shattered their carefree bubble. One even muttered, “Who the hell made her the beach police?” to which Harper responded, “I heard that!”

[Melissa]

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Myotis House Dorm/The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.005: Sights and Sounds

^{_{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Harper @Qia}

Previously: N/A

^{TW: Domestic Violence}

Sometimes when Aurora closed her eyes, she was brought back here.

Back to the small ranch house at the end of a cul-de-sac, with its beige stucco exterior and red clay tile roofing. She could feel the bite of the cool metal of the doorknob as she turned it, a stark contrast to the dry desert heat that flushed her skin. The redhead could picture every detail in that house, the one that she used to call home, so vividly. Things like the wood grain pattern of the walnut cabinets in the kitchen and the exact shade of the taupe tiled floor. As she walked inside, she was greeted by the scent of her mother’s perfume - peony and rose. The smell invited her in; told her to stay a while, say hello, even.

But the sound of the front door opening and closing did the opposite, igniting a panic that quickly took over her body. Within seconds, her feet moved almost of their own accord to what was once her childhood bedroom; she was a girl retracing hurried steps she knew well. Bland blue walls with glow-in-the-dark stars haphazardly pasted to the ceiling awaited her. Aurora closed the door behind her, locked it and waited, dreading what she knew was coming.

First was the yelling. A male voice - rough and cold - and a woman’s voice - petrified and breaking. The redhead couldn’t make out any distinct words, every consonant and vowel seemed to meld together into a cacophony of sound. Next was the slamming of doors, the shattering of glass, the echo of skin hitting skin. As the shouting continued into a crescendo, Aurora’s clammy hands found her hot ears to try and block out any of the noise. It was loud, too loud. Too much.

Footsteps grew heavier, the vibrations radiating through the house, growing closer. The sheer terror in the woman’s voice was palpable as the handle of the bedroom door started to jiggle, but Aurora remained frozen, trapped in the suffocating grip of fear. Hot, silent tears pricked at her eyes.

And then in the doorway stood a figure, outlined by the harsh glare of the hallway light. His silhouette was imposing, casting a long shadow that seemed to swallow the room whole. Aurora's breath caught in her throat. She could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with anger and resentment, boring into her soul.

With a trembling hand, the redhead reached out, grasping for something, anything to anchor her back to reality. But there was only emptiness, a void that threatened to consume her whole and -

______________________________

Aurora’s eyes shot open, her mouth dry and chest heaving as she frantically attempted to acclimate to her surroundings. Light crept in through billowy white curtains, illuminating her plants and the pictures propped on her desk. Loosening her vice-like grip on her duvet, she inhaled deeply and exhaled, attempting to calm and slow her pounding heartbeat.

She was in her dorm. She was safe. It wasn’t real.

That had been the redhead’s third nightmare of the week. At least she had managed to sleep through the night this time.

It happened every summer; the still emptiness of campus triggered something in Aurora’s brain that had every fear of hers crawling back to the surface. She knew in her heart that come fall everyone would return, but the little voice in the back of her head told her that they were gone for good, and this was just a continuation of the vicious cycle that was her reality. But today, her heart would win the battle with her mind, as students came back to campus for the new school year; her last year at Pacific Royal Collegiate & University.

The redhead found her footing and climbed out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom to wash the now sticky sheen of sweat from her skin. She stayed there for a while under the spray of the shower, letting the scalding water cleanse both her body and mind. She spent some time mentally preparing herself for the day ahead - it was going to be a long one, especially given that she was not well rested.

It wasn’t until the water began to run cold that she turned off the shower and started to get ready. Aurora had promised Harper that she’d meet her down at the beach, which was an annual tradition for the weekend prior to the start of classes. Everyone would be there, most having returned from their summer adventures, both good and bad. And as much as the redhead would love nothing more than to attempt to go back to sleep, a promise was a promise and she always kept her word.

Aurora was never one to wear a lot of makeup - maybe some blush across her cheeks and nose and some mascara to highlight her baby blues - but one step she never skipped was applying concealer to cover the bags that seemed to have purchased permanent real estate underneath her eyes. No one needed to be privy to her sleeping habits… well, no one else. Lorcán, Banjo, and Haven were plenty, as it was.

Some odd minutes later after drying her hair and getting dressed, Aurora locked her dorm behind her and began to make her way towards the beach on foot. She didn’t always feel the urge or see a reason to teleport everywhere. Sure, it was faster and more efficient than walking, but today she wanted to witness PRCU come alive again for herself. She needed to see it. So as she walked, she intently listened to the chatter and excitement of new and returning students who had already arrived back on campus. Some were swapping stories of their summers spent with family or traveling abroad, while others asked questions such as where the Intake House was or how they could get to the Administration Building. As Aurora overheard each conversation, her heart grew warm and her anxieties melted away. Things were as they should be.

Once the paved pathway met the beach, the redhead immediately slipped off her sandals, letting her toes dig into the sand. Out of instinct, her whole body relaxed as she smelled the salty air and heard the gulls fly overhead. There was something grounding about the water and the waves that she could never put her finger on. She wasn’t a strong swimmer, she didn’t even learn how to swim until she got to Dundas Island and was forced to learn for her own safety, but nonetheless, the surf hitting the shore triggered the quiet in her mind she so desperately craved.

Looking around, she searched for Harper but also watched as her classmates enjoyed the beautiful day. Some students simply sunbathed, others were playing football or volleyball, even some had ventured into the water. The unbridled joy and happiness was a sight to behold after a quiet summer on the island. It brought a genuine smile to the redhead’s face.

“No littering, maggots!”

Well, there was Harper. Yelling at some new students who had chosen to abandon their trash unceremoniously on the beach. Seemed very fitting for the brunette to be laying down the law - after all, it was common knowledge that she had an affinity for structure and the rules.

Aurora waved to her friend as she closed the distance between them, sitting down underneath an adjacent umbrella and tucking herself into the pocket of shade that it provided. Thus was the curse of being a fair-skinned redhead - unless she was actively trying to look like a tomato, direct sunlight was not advised. As she got comfortable, she removed her cover-up, revealing a two-piece bathing suit underneath - rest assured, she had thoroughly applied SPF 100 before leaving her room and brought extra to spare.

“Remind me later not to litter in your presence... where did you even get that thing?” Aurora asked with a laugh, setting down her bag and fishing out the book she had brought to read. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the sketchbook that lay open on what she assumed was a recently completed drawing. Peering over at her friend’s creation, she beamed. “Oh Harper, this is beautiful." She commented, not aiming to be nosy, but genuinely impressed by her friend's skill and wanting to compliment her like she deserved to be. “You are so talented - I can only hope that you’ll draw a picture of me one day.”

[Roman]

---

G I L E M O R Y G A L A H A D
G I L E M O R Y G A L A H A D

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.006: Chivalry on the Shoreline

---

_{Interaction(s): @Lord Wraith, Lorcán // @Qia, Harper // @Melissa, Aurora}

Gil sat on the beach, perched atop the crest of where the coastline swelled up as the tide met the island; the ocean lapped at the sand a handful of feet below him, and he wriggled his feet deeper into the shore, enjoying the warmth of the sand covering his toes, and the heat of the sun on his back through the unbuttoned white-linen shirt he wore to ward off sunburn. He watched students eat, drink, run up and down the coast, swim, shriek from the cold; many smiled or waved, some blushed - he gave them all the same friendly smile, a short wave back, a quick peace-sign thrown up when he noticed someone holding their phone up for a photo. His team, and his other academic peers entering their final year, were well-used to his presence, and the mystique and allure of his silver-screen history had worn off for them. Not so for the flock of new students that came with the start of the new semester - Gil's enrollment at P.R.C.U. was a well-promoted piece of trivia, both by W.H.A.T. and the university itself, and Gil was sure that the ferry over contained more than a few low whispers of the campus' own resident Hyperhuman movie star. This all suited Gil; he liked the attention, he liked the occasional 'special consideration' afforded to him by the academy, he liked most girls coming pre-wooed, he liked that he had go-to small talk that was simple for him and exciting for his conversational partner. He liked that it helped distract him from the text messages from Elle he'd had that morning. The phone was clutched in his hand and while it was locked, face ID would quickly re-open it to the same message exchange that hadn't left the screen since it had ended. He'd had the usual from his parents and Arthur; good news from Arthur even, the feeling of which was quickly forgotten in the face of knowing he'd fucked up with Elle yet again. He knew when he sent it that mentioning LA was stupid, but so was mentioning Ann Arbour. The bit about filming wasn't even supposed to be trite or deflecting, but Elle's response was clear. Gil might be dumb, but he wasn't stupid. Elle had no love for Hollywood, had taken considerable steps to remove herself from the city and the lifestyle, and Gil's suggestion was 'maybe I'll fly us out for a weekend together in the city you hate that's the very symbol of why we split in the first place'? Gil wasn't stupid, but he was dumb.

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

He sighed, and shoved the phone into the pocket of his trunks. He scanned the coastline again, looking for a new distraction, and spotted Lorcán on his board paddling in to shore. Gil smiled and called out, waving his hand to grab his attention.
"For someone who has been on a board since he could walk, you wouldn't know it!”

"The waves are gnarly my dude, guess the water just isn't my element today." Lorcán smirked as he spotted Gil and trekked across the sand toward him, board under one arm and seawater rising off him as steam. You'd be forgiven for thinking the sun was working some overtime if you didn't know Lorcán, or indeed the common reason anyone here was on this particular beach, rather than some other stretch of west-coast shoreline. Lorcán stuck his board upright in the sand with a forceful stab, and sat down next to Gil to join in with his people-watching.
“Are you looking forward to putting together the Homecoming Trial for this year’s freshmen? It’s tradition for the graduating class to work together creating a new obstacle course. With any luck, maybe the Chancellor will let us run the course before the new class.”

Gil chuckled softly and maintained a friendly smile as he replied.
“I find I’m more equipped for emotional labour compared to physical, but you know what they say - many hands make light work. You hear a lot of good sayings in the industry, but that one particularly seems to follow me…”
Gil looked up, trailing off and shielding his eyes from the sun as a young girl approached nervously from behind Lorcán; Lorcán followed his gaze before noticing her and welcomed the girl before beginning introductions.

“Gil, this is my ‘baby’ cousin, Ripley Jones,” Lorcán said with a smile, embracing the petite brunette with a side hug. “She’s starting her first collegiate year this fall.”
“Hi,” Ripley replied shyly, before brushing her bangs away from her face, before turning to whisper to Lorcán, _{“You didn’t tell me you knew Gil freakin’ Galahad!”}
A confused look came over Lorcán’s face for a second before bursting into a wide smile.
“Oh yeah, he’s-” Lorcán paused, turning back towards Gil, “-you’re a movie star or something, right?” Lorcán chuckled softly. “Y’know, she actually lives in Crestwood Hollow.”

Gil beamed, standing and brushing off the sand to offer a hand to shake. “Always nice to meet a fan. You know we actually shot on-location for a few episodes. It’s a beautiful town. Would you like a selfie?”
“Of course she wou-” A sharp elbow to the ribs stopped the words mid-breath as Lorcán was forced to sharply exhale.
_{“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”} Ripley began to whisper frantically, _{“This is so not the way I wanted to meet Gil Galahad!”} She pleaded, tugging at Lorcán’s hand. _{“I am so going to get you back for this the minute I find out which one of these girls is-”}
“I think we were leaving after all,” Lorcán said with a smile while tucking his surfboard under his arm. “If I don’t see you before the kick-off ceremony, enjoy the rest of the holiday.”

Gil pointed a finger and grinned. "Hey - you too, bud. Big day tomorrow!"
He watched the pair trek off down the beach, chatting to each other as they went, and the grin faded from Gil's face as they went; the jovial expression was gone completely before Lorcán and Ripley had put 10 yards behind them. He put a hand to his pocket, feeling the weight and shape of his phone through the polyester. Come on, Gilbert. Get a grip. It's your last year, and then an easy ride to your very own Walk of Fame star. Imagine what that Hollywood Reporter cover shoot will do for your image.

He scanned the beach again, and nearly wished he hadn't when he spotted the second teammate of the day; Banjo himself, parading out of the water with half the dignity Lorcán had shown but twice the self-aggrandizing confidence. Gil watched him wring out his shorts and strip his shoes and socks and then looked away as Banjo looked up and around, pointedly searching for someone else to engage with. Or at least to provide a buffer. Gil wasn't sure he had the patience at this present moment to present his usual amiable facade against Banjo's particular brand of attention.

Instead, Gil flinched as the creaking static of a megaphone erupted from behind him before Harper's voice boomed through, sounding for all intents and purposes like a drill sergeant shouting orders; yet despite the harsh tone, Gil felt a small flutter ripple through him regardless. The barked command was Harper through-and-through: disciplined, observant, in favour of the greater good, and unwilling to suffer fools.

Well, hopefully not that last one.

Gil got up, putting text messages out of his head, hoping Banjo didn't notice him amidst the crowded beach, and turned to find the source of the yell. He spotted Aurora's hair before he saw Harper, but Aurora was approaching Harper anyway - and if Aurora was around, Gil could be sure Lorcán would be gravitating closer, if not already bee-lining for the pair of girls. A little two-man tête-à-tête was potentially in order, and the perfect thing to rouse Gil from his funk and bring back the sunny disposition that had been so-far absent from an otherwise gorgeous day.

A light jog through the sand warmed up his legs and helped the sunlight catch his toned torso just-so through the open shirt; he gave a friendly wave as he approached, standing with a smile at a safe distance and making a point not to pay too much attention to what either girl was choosing to reveal, whether that be by Aurora's bikini, or Harper's sundress. Of course, that wasn't to hide that he was interested - just to show that he was interested in a more noble, chivalrous kind of way. That was the idea, at least. He couldn't afford to be being seen as lecherous.

"Hello, ladies! Lovely to see you today. Enjoying the weather? Excited for our final semester?"

[Rockette]

^{_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.007: within & without.

^{_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Interaction(s): . . .}

Previously: TBD

The first time Amma Cahors came to P.R.C.U was a day with no celebration: it was little ceremony that plucked her from the oceanic solitary of her dorm wherein a pamphlet and a syllabus that conformed her credentials from the Institute was dropped upon her lap. Forsaken was the latex and shawl of black gossamer that clung to every cleft and cinched her bodice with laces and silver, in trade she donned what some uttered as Gulo yellow and arched the prick of her nails on the embossed wolverine poised in a shield. She knew not what the creature represented at the time, her world suspended on the mutterings of H.E.L.P officials eager to fly her yonder the seas to the island that awaited her unannounced arrival.

To this day, she doesn't know why. She has then stopped asking, accepting the fate of infamy that cloaked her presence and bedecked her moniker with a spade.

The second time is more or less, the same.

Amma was not privy to the relaxation hours the year prior that saw friends reuniting after the summer apart, her months of solace had been little but a self imposed confinement for there had been many restrictions. Returning home [where that was, she knew not] was not an option. The spires of Rouen were foreign to her and unwelcoming at best. She had found small comforts in the village but whispers of her renown traveled fast and far, the shadows of her former association cantering after her lissom figure wherever she went.

For Amma, it was just fine.

The warmth of the beach permeated through her bones, the sand shifting beneath the delicate path she walked down the shore line with gestures clasped at the small of her back. Waves lapped up to her ankles, playful in intent and pulling a shudder from her pursed lips. Amma would not utter it aloud, but the sea was a beckoning facet that called to her like none other. Perhaps it was from the years spent in the pyramid structures of the Alexandria Foundation in the middle of the ocean, but there was little comparison to the simple freedom of trudging through sand and surf. She was done in a sheer pullover of black that descended just at mid-thigh, the inked profiles of moths, skulls, and other creatures seeming to ripple beneath the fabric, the delicate straps of her ebony two piece accented with beads of white. She allowed her hair down for the venture with the longest layers curled at the base of her spine and framed her critical gaze and lashes that fluttered behind thick sunglasses that often slid down the bridge of her nose.

It wasn't her first perusal down the shore, but this had been the first time others had been... so close. Granted, most were her sudden teammates, a word she was not entirely accustomed to [she doesn't know if she ever will be] and others that were fresh faces that simply knew to give her a wide berth. Her rejoining smile was all white bone and gleaming lips, the slightest cant of her head encouraging at best if not entirely suspect. Amma said little to any new arrival, for what words she could spare would be waspish replies and biting wit.

She just doesn't care.

As the waves pull after her footfalls, she pauses, gazing out over the horizon as the breeze tugs through her tresses and out to the darkened waters. A void beckons yonder, somewhere in the gloom of sapphire and ebony darkness, where rock and sediment quake, where sometimes Amma wonders if she willed it just so, what would happen were she to rent asunder the depths below. She inhales, a sharp pull of breath over her pouted lips, and steps further into the slightly warmed waters. The waves lap playfully on her calves and higher still as she settles her palms over the swaying surface, caressing the waves as they ebb and flow beneath her gestures.

She hears it then, the epitaph she shed in the darkness of one night when she realized that she wasn't going anywhere.

Tiamat.

It is a caress through her mind; a stuttered whisper that coils betwixt her ears with every beat of her heart. Again, and again, and again. Tiamat pings through her lobe as the sea courses through her fingers and chills her skin and it's only then she thinks maybe it wasn't just her mind uttering her former calling. Amma stills, fingers arching as glimmers of silver and red quake from nail to palm and through a subtle shift, she cuts her gaze through gilded lashes and pans her look over her shoulder and glares to the shoreline. And though nothing is there, Amma knows it wasn't just happenstance for the name to summon through her consciousness.

She exhales.
It's gone now.

Somewhere in the distance of sand and surf she hears the call of familiar voices and laughter. It is a world so far, so separated, and sometimes so unusual to the years she spent fending for herself. From bloodied noses and lips, to scarlet kisses and hissing cries that scoured her heart in her waking world. Amma carefully unlaces her sheer overlay then, letting the fabric pool at her elbows as she wades farther out before bending at her waist to pluck a shell curiously prodding against her ankle. She smooths her gesture over the pearlescent underbelly before her nails scrape against the outer layer -- it only takes a second for the trinket to suddenly crumble away into nothing.

Amma just simply smiles.

[webboysurf]

Rory leaned against the railing of the ferry, taking in the familiar ocean breeze as the strings of his hoodie whipped up into his face periodically. It took a minute for him to finally stuff them down the front, flashing a smile of recognition and nod to one of his underclassmen in Canis. His eyes turned back towards the island as the boat cut through the choppy waters. His stomach tightened slightly as the senior anxieties began bubbling up at his core. He had already wasted so much time already... and for the first time in nearly forever, it felt like there was finally somewhere that he belonged. This was more of a home than the four bedroom townhouse in Ottawa ever was.

"If I end up in Canis, can you please just pretend like we don't know each other?" Will Tyler saddled up a few feet away from Rory, back against the railing as he picked at some dirt underneath his fingernail. He didn't even look at Rory, his eyes instead scanning the rest of his classmates.

"You think I'm gonna pass up an opportunity to embarrass the hell out of you now that we're at the same school?" Rory's infectious smile was unwavering as he slid over to Will, attempting to put a hand on his brother's shoulder. Will shrugged it off instinctively.

"Then Alces it is. Gentle, Mindful, Honourable. Guess I'd just have to pretend to be an idiot like you for a few days to guarantee an invite, right? It'll be tough, but I think I could manage." Will looked up at his brother for a moment, giving him the same cold and calculating stare he gave everyone else. And then came the sadistic smirk. Rory's smile never faded, but they both knew those words wounded him. Will walked away, and Rory just turned to look back at the island.

Now it felt like home.

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.008: Sun's Out, Guns Out

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Lorcán Roth - @Lord Wraith}

Previously: TBD

^{| Monday, September 4th, 2028}

Rory had gotten to the beach early, still reeking of sweat and a heavy dose of deodorant and cologne meant to overpower the stench of a five mile run at dawn. He had quickly changed out of his tracksuit, opting instead for a pair of bright red floral print swim trunks and a matching unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. He had pre-packed most of the gear he needed the night before, stuffing a duffel bag full of towels, blankets, sunscreen, a cocktail shaker, and an assortment of footballs and beach balls for entertainment. He already pulled a couple umbrellas from storage, and had stuffed his fridge full of everyone's preferred drinks in advance: Craft beers, hard seltzers, half a case of lager, a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon... Blackjack was picky about their beverages. He didn't mind, though, as it gave him an excuse to get a big chest cooler years ago. And of all the things in Rory's room that wasn't a ball, that cooler easily saw the most use.

Rory was at the beach fairly early, before most students were willing to wake up to party at the coast. He dumped his treasure trove of beach essentials at a primary spot in the center of the beach, and immediately got to work setting up the rest. He had lugged some of the nicer beach chairs out under some central umbrellas for those who wanted to relax under some shade, while keeping a few other chairs nearby for those not afraid of some sun. Poorly folded towels were left on all the chairs, and the large cooler of drinks was parked up under the umbrellas. Rory took his time setting up the drinks in the cooler in a healthy mountain of ice. He left the lid open, hoping the drinks would last long enough for either Blackjack to get their fill or Calli would take pity on them and work her HZEs. In the meantime, Rory cracked open a can of water let the waves lap over his feet at the shore.

Then, of course, came the distractions. As more and more students began to flock to the beach for some downtime before the academic year officially began, Rory found himself getting practically dragged half-way down the beach talking to dormmates, classmates, incoming freshmen... you name it. Just about everyone knew Rory Tyler: a starting striker for the P.R.C.U. Chimeras, quarterback of the Canis intramural football team, shortstop on their baseball team, former chair of the Model UN... while he wasn't the resident movie star, he was the next best thing. Rory had a nonsensical or opaque nickname for nearly half the campus, and the other half he inexplicably knew by last name only. It was only a matter of time before he got a few folks together to toss around a football.

"Think we can finally snatch the Laurels from Alces this year, Tyler?" A fellow Canis student queried, while lobbing the ball across the circle to Rory.

"Alces' reign ends this year, boys. They don't have a chance." Rory chuckled a little as he caught the ball and brought it up to his chest, eyes scanning the circle for who to throw the ball to. He noticed some movement in the background, and his gaze lingered for a few moments too long as a dripping Banjo waded to shore. A cough from someone in the circle shook Rory back to attention, and he quickly launched the ball in a high arc past his target. He flinched as he saw a familiar mop of light brown hair in the trajectory. "Heads up, Hot Shot!"

Lorcán managed to push his cousin out of the way of the ball, before tossing it back into the circle with more refined aim. Another dorm-mate swooped in for an interception, tossing the ball behind his back mid-air to Rory. The latter rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Where was that in the finals last year, man? We need this kind of energy in game time!" Rory looked over to his boy Lorcán and rocketed the ball towards his best friend, just as a certain red-head was removing her cover-up not too far away. Of course, as soon as Rory had let loose the football, he felt a cold shiver run up his spine. He felt his gaze drawn to the pale form of his teammate Amma Cahors. He was genuinely surprised to see her, as were a number of bystanders from what he could tell. Somewhere deep down, the smile plastered on her lips felt more akin to a predator baring its fangs and licking its lips than a woman enjoying a walk on the beach. Somewhere even deeper down, part of him wanted to be prey.

A sudden thud and a series of uncomfortable hisses stole Rory's attention away from a tempting danger. Rory's aim had been true, but his target's attention seemed also divided. The ball had socked Lorcán right in the face, and his best friend slid to his side almost immediately. "Shit, Lorc, sorry about that. Figured you had your hands up, so I was going for a tight spiral, and..." Rory trailed off mid-sentence as his distracted scan of the beach spotted Aurora and Harper speaking to Gil a ways down the beach. He looked back to Lorcán slowly, his cheery smile transforming into a knowing grin. "I see, I see... something else catch your eye, Hot Shot?"

[Garden Gnome]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.009: Sunblock the Saviour

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Harper Baxter @Qia, Aurora Mitchell @Melissa}

Previously: Nil

Mei lounged blissfully on the beach, laying on a towel spread out on the beach that was their sanctuary. She was nestled under a vibrant orange umbrella that shielded her from the sun’s strong rays. With her toes buried in the warm sand, she watched with a smile as the beach came alive with the hustle and bustle of students, both new and returning, enjoying the last remnants of freedom before the semester officially kicked off at Pacific Royal Collegiate & University. The wide expanse of the sea stretched out in front of her, the waters shimmering under the bright sunlight. Waves crashed gently against the shore, leaving behind a trail of foam that glistened like sparkling diamonds in the light.

She didn’t need to inhale deeply to smell the salty tang of the ocean mingling with the scent of both sunscreen and sunblock that perpetually hung in the air. Despite the protection of the umbrella, Mei didn’t want to risk having a sunburn before school started, and reached for a bottle of sunblock beside her and began to apply it to her exposed skin. She began to rub and slather the creamy lotion over all the different parts of her body not covered by her two piece bathing suit, smiling as she felt assured by the wee protection the sunblock lotion would provide.

As she settled back onto her spot on the beach, she closed her eyes momentarily as the familiar sound of seagulls filled the air. Their raucous cries echoed overhead as they soared in the sky, their wings casting fleeting shadows on the sand below.

Mei opened her eyes and found herself gazing at the seagulls, watching their graceful movements as they flew with ease and so freely. Suddenly, Mei's reverie was interrupted by the sound of her friend Harper's voice booming through a megaphone.

“No littering, maggots!”

Mei couldn't help but grin at Harper's choice of words. That was Harper alright. She could not help but raise a thumbs up in affirmation at Harper's direction, not looking to see if the other girl saw her reaction or not. As Mei continued to watch, one of the students nearby grumbled followed by Harper’s response, which made her chuckle in amusement.

“Who the hell made her the beach police?”

“I heard that!”

Mei then looked over as Aurora arrived praising Harper for her beautiful drawings. That was no surprise. Mei had always wished that she could draw as well as Harper. She had tried and practised over and over before, but seeing her ugly drawings constantly was disappointing and soon she abandoned that activity altogether. She clearly had no future being an artist.

“Hey Aurora, glad you could join us! How are you doing this fine day? Better late than never."

Mei paused as she got up and used her hands to frame the redhead in her view in a dramatic manner.

"Lovely two-piece by the way. They look amazing on you!”

[Lord Wraith]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.010: Claws Out

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Rory Tyler - @webboysurf, Aurora Mitchell - @Melissa^Indirectly}

Previously: Life's A Beach

The ball released from his hand, flying true back to Rory as Lorcán jogged closer to the rest of the Canis boys. Chatter about taking the Intramural Laurels for themselves this year and putting an end to House Alces’ four-year winning streak. Competition wasn’t much of a motivator for Lorcán however, and winning wasn’t all that important to him. The last four years of Intramurals had been some of the most fun he’d had in his time at Pacific Royal. Their teammate and arguably, the champion of Alces; Katja Krueger, was incredibly skilled on the field, even without her abilities.

A match against Alces was always sure to be an enjoyable one if only with the side effect of some minor soreness the following morning.

With his disinterest in the topic at hand, Lorcán allowed his eyes to wander the beach. Faces he had met in passing, acquaintances and friends alike had gathered to blow off steam and frolic among the fleeting summer temperatures. They’d barely be halfway through the first semester before the campus would see its first snowfall.

The cold didn’t particularly bother Lorcán, his abilities allowed him to maintain a comfortable internal temperature, if only with a little more effort once the temperatures started to dip into what he affectionately referred to as ‘Calli-Weather’. The first snowfall of the year was almost always beautiful. Delicate flakes silently falling over the campus, melting on noses and outstretched tongues. Smiling blue eyes danced in front of Lorcán’s mind’s eye as the thought of snow brought forth one of his favourite memories, walking to class, a hand brushing against his for warmth amongst the falling snow with…

Aurora.

The distinct red hair derailed the memory as Lorcán’s neck practically snapped, turning to look toward the girl. His heart began to beat a little faster, its pace increasing as she removed her coverup, revealing the soft blue two-piece beneath, the fabric accenting her natural figure perfectly. It wasn’t like this was the first time that Lorcán had seen this much of Aurora, the pair spent a lot of their time on the beach. But the sight of the beautiful girl never ceased to send butterflies flurrying through his stomach as thoughts of asking her to the senior dance began to crash over him like waves of the ocean.

And then he was snapped back to reality.

The sound of leather slapping against skin echoed over the open water that bordered the sandy beach. A dull thud followed the unintentional assault as the senior classman was dropped into the sand.

A drool-splattered ball landed beside his head.

“Ow.”

"Shit, Lorc, sorry about that. Figured you had your hands up, so I was going for a tight spiral, and..." Came Rory’s apology, the older senior suddenly trailed off mid-sentence as his distracted scan of the beach spotted Aurora and Harper speaking to Gil a ways down the beach. He looked back to Lorcán slowly, his cheery smile transforming into a knowing grin.

"I see, I see... something else catch your eye, Hot Shot?"

“Yeah, all the swells I’m missing lying here because of you, dude.” Lorcán laughed before propping himself up on his elbows. He looked back over toward Aurora, only now noticing Harper, Gil and Mei for the first time. It looked like most of Blackjack was out today, he even saw Amma wading into the shallows.

That had to be a good thing right? Her making an effort to join in on the fun.

Lorcán couldn’t blame anyone for being stand-offish with Amma. She certainly wasn’t a warm person. However, something was enticing about her. It was the mystery of her arrival, the nature of her abilities and her overall demeanour. Maybe it was a hero complex within Lorcán that a part of him wanted to rescue her.

“Dude, did you iron your dress uniform?” Lorcán asked before kicking his feet into the air and jumping upright again. “I totally forgot about the senior dance after the Homecoming Trials, you think you’re going to ask anyone?” Lorcán fished, his fiery eyes darting back towards their redheaded teammate. His arm shot up to wave towards the gathered members of Blackjack while his mind began going through all the things Lorcán knew Aurora enjoyed.

His father had always said that you don’t ask someone out empty-handed. You need to bring a gift. But what gift could possibly say enough, while simultaneously playing it cool to lowkey ask a girl to the Senior Dance?

“...How do you go about asking someone?” The question escaped from between Lorcán’s lips, but his words weren’t directed at Rory. It was more like a thought meant to be kept inside rather than suddenly out there for the Canis boys to hear. The smile on Lorcán’s face continued to grow.

“Bro, can you pass me one of those 'Claws?”

[PatientBean]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.011: When Hot And Cold Meet

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Beach Folks}

Previously: Nil

"And that is why Hyperhumans should be free from observation."

The debate judge stood at her podium, nodding at the third year as they finished their side of the argument. The topic: Should Hyperhumans be allowed free reign allowed to standard humans or should they be monitored and kept tabs on? The opponent was against and Calliope was given for.

"And now we will hear the opposing side by Ms. de León, who will be arguing that Hyperhumans should be monitored by the government." The judge gestured for Calliope to begin.

Calliope looked down briefly at the notecards she painstakingly wrote for the past two weeks, editing each detail to a fine point. She glanced over her handwriting and noted an increased heart rate. It wasn't on the level of a panic attack as she was prepared for this. She knew social situations. She knew how to get her points across. Even if she was arguing for a side she had no faith in, she knew she could still win.

But no one liked a robot. To read from her cards like she was some high schooler phoning it in on a PowerPoint presentation would not cinch this. So she put down the notecards, took a deep breath. And began speaking.

"If you were to believe my opponent then life seems pretty good. We can all walk around freely, not worrying about if crossing the street will result in getting hit by a car or if a plane were to crash as you relaxed on the beach. Extreme examples, sure. But statistically unlikely to happen. You are more likely to have a vending machine fall on you than be attacked by a shark while swimming in the ocean."

"But yet, people are more afraid of sharks than they are vending machines? Why?"

"Because a shark poses a threat due to their nature. A shark might not attack every swimmer it meets, but the results of a shark attack are gruesome. They can be dangerous creatures if you do not know what to do when you meet one. The same can be said for Hyperhumans."

"Right now people are walking amongst you have abilities that are unprecedented. We've seen movies of people with unlikely abilities and how they use them to save the world, help their fellow man, but what is not presented is when those same people decide they know what's best. When they feel they can step in without anyone to question them. When they feel they know what's best for you."

"And you might be thinking, 'Well if I am in a life-threatening situation, I rely on the experts. Police. Firefighters. Paramedics. People with experience to handle those situations. And you are right. But tell me, what experience do Hyperhumans possess that make them a better fit to handle those situations? Because they are able to control the elements? Because they cannot be hurt with bullets? Because they can fly?"

"You have a human with abilities beyond comprehension at the most basic level and, yet, no training. No guidebook to ensure they know what to do when those powers manifest. Instead we see catastrophic events occur on the news of a fountain in an otherwise peaceful town get obliterated into nothing more than ice and rubble. Imagine if there were people there."

Calli took a glance at her opponent and saw the simple frown and the muscle tension. She knew one of his points during the next round was going to bring up her past and when her powers got out of control. She hated when debaters used personal attacks, but points for effort. She essentially took a killing blow from him and put it on her side.

"People are dangerous normally. We need only look at history to see the many atrocities we have done as humankind to see our potential for danger. Now imagine those same people, but with god-like abilities shaping the course of time. Sometimes literally. This is why they need to be monitored. Recorded. Have systems set up to ensure they and all of us around them are safe and well-mannered. This is why Hyperhumans need to be observed. Safety: it's a valuable commodity."

---

Calliope wrapped up and started packing her things into her bag when she felt someone walk up. She turned to see her Debate Team advisor, Dr. Emily Prophet sidle up to her. "Very well argued Calliope. I'll admit I was worried having you on the pro side, but I see my fears were unwarranted. I should have known you would smash it, as you have done countless times before."

Calliope smiled lightly at the professor's words. "Thank you ma'am."

Dr. Prophet waved a hand away. "Oh none of that. You are one of my most favored students. I see great things. As you know, the spirit of debate is to argue your side to the best of your abilities, even if you do not fully believe it yourself. I believe you are on the law track if I remember correctly. That skill will prove paramount to your success. A lawyer fights for their side, even if said side is something or someone they strongly oppose. I have cautioned many a student to not let it blind them to what is really going on in the world. You can fight for your side while strongly opposing it to see justice is done. Words are powerful, Calliope. I would go so far as to say you could use words that are more powerful than any Hyperhuman ability known to man. Now if you'll excuse me, my wife is texting me given the amount of buzzing I feel in my pocket so I imagine I am in for a lecture of my own. Good day."

Dr. Prophet walked off, leaving Calliope to feel her words. It was true, Calliope wanted to pursue law. She wanted to be the figure on the side of helping Hyperhumans or whoever felt downtrodden or disrespected just for things they couldn't control. She clenched her fist, remembering her father, but the thorny memory was pushed aside. She didn't need that right now.

---

The beach was cooler than she expected. Normally she hated the beach. Even on a good day it reminded her of home and those memories were best served in therapy than on a sandy, sweaty beach. But at least she didn't need to keep herself cool and comfortable.

Wearing a beach outfit she put together herself in the hopes of making a certain blond-haired Aussie have a heart attack, she made her way to where she expected to see the rest of Team Blackjack. She carried with her a tote bag filled with snacks she was willing to share (a nice assortment of salty and sweet treats). As she made the trek through the sand, her mind wandered.

She was in her final year here at P.R.C.U. She was on her way out to her next thing. Never would she have imagined she'd be where she was. The mental and emotional scars were not healed and, in all likelihood, would never disappear. She had made her peace with that. If for no other reason than finding a home amongst some of the people she met here. Katja. Rory. Mei. Haven.

And Banjo.

Calliope brought herself back to reality as she neared voices. She heard someone yelling about littering and knew she found them. She scanned those in attendance and noted Banjo was not among them. "Hello everyone." She put her tote bag down as she got within range of them. She pulled out a towel and laid it on the sand nearby. "Lovely day for it. How's everyone?" She attempted to meet her words with warmth, but some things were hard to break. The Ice Queen had arrived.

[Hound55]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Farm/The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.012: Greetings and Shit-you-takings

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Gil - @Roman, Calliope - @PatientBean, Lorcán - @Lord Wraith,
Rory - @webboysurf, Aurora - @Melissa, Mei - @Garden Gnome,
Harper - @Qia, Amma - @Rockette}

Previously: I've Been Through The Desert On A Horse... Which Shall Remain Nameless

Still soaked he continued his stroll on the hard-packed sand closest to the shore, shoes and sock in hand, looking slightly like a drowned rat.

Suddenly a megaphone barked from up the beach, and despite the distortion and seabreeze he had no doubts who was on the other end of it.

"Bloody Hell. Just because the sayin's if you see somethin', say somethin' doesn't mean it's proportional, Baxter, ya hard-wired nutbag." He muttered to himself, setting a tack for the direction of the dictatorial din.

It was a good day. The sun was warm. Not exactly like back home, but it was still a day meant for the beach.

His hair was the first thing to dry, and he could feel it whipping around with the seabreeze.

Harper's here... He saw Lorcán's board, and with the telltale football whistling by over the softer sand on his left, he figured Rory Tyler must be up ahead as well.

He looked out to sea to check the position of the boat. Old Mate would probably need his help getting it back on land later, but for now he'd be fine. It was a ridiculous sized bloody thing for one to two people, and the guy used a boat trailer instead of hiring a dock. No more facts were required in order to realise that the cunning old codger intended to have the help of a guy who could physically enhance himself anytime he wanted to get the thing back on land. Still, it had been good value for when he'd had one or two friends out there, the cabin was stupidly luxurious. Had a toilet, shower, television set up, lounge and bed down there. All of which had been used - since sea sickness can be a bastard.

He saw the 'Dawnie Fraser' a good kilometre and a half off the coast, and with no intent on returning to the boat ramp any time soon, turned his attention back to the people ahead.

And to his right.

Just in wading depth was the newest member of the team, Amma Cahors. She was... well, 'playing' is not really the right word for anything Amma does, but 'entertaining herself' might have been a close enough way to put it.

He stopped briefly and considered saying something.

Then she drew a shell - possibly with something still living in it, he was too distant to tell - from the water and watched, as it disintegrated into nothing in her fingers, a smile never leaving her face.

Banjo emitted a long low whistle.

"Naaaaaah. Not unpackin' all of that right now. No bloody way, no bloody how." He muttered to himself as he continued his walk down the shoreline.

As he got closer he could see that Calliope had indeed staked herself out a prime spot under an umbrella. In a small smattering of a group with Harper, Aurora, Mei and Gil.

His shirt had finally made some inroads towards drying off, and he was feeling pretty good. He started his walk in-land just in time to see Lorcán take a football right off the head. Hadn't even bothered to raise his arms. Which left Banjo little doubt as to where his attention was at the time.

"Shit, Lorc, sorry about that. Figured you had your hands up, so I was going for a tight spiral, and..."

"Oooft. Right off the bloody bonce. Good pass, but." Banjo said, walking right by the laid-out Lorcán without offering assistance.

"Now THERE is a sight for sore eyes." He said, raising his hands to frame Calliope and the area around her, whilst leaning back and sizing her up with one eye. "And right by the Esky as well. Work of bloody art!" He popped open the cooler and fingered through a few of the drinks before snatching up one of the craft beers Rory had packed and closing the lid.

He took the top off with a fancy snap, and downed half the bottle.

"Aaah. No Coopers Pale Ale, but it'll do in a pinch."

He turned his head to address the growing group, whilst setting up another towel next to Calliope, only clearly unfettered with shade.

"G'Day ladies. 'Raw. Baxter. Mei. Soapstar." With careful control he'd been blurring the lines between the words 'Superstar' and 'Soap star' for a while now. His accent doing even more heavy lifting to make Gil not entirely sure exactly what he was calling him. He was pretty sure he'd caught on by now, but either wasn't commenting because he didn't want to be dragged into anything petty, or because he couldn't be sure anyone else was hearing the same thing.

Banjo laid down on his towel next to his blonde girlfriend, shit-eating grin at Gil from ear-to-ear.

"How's your day been goin' anyway?" He turned to Calli and asked.

[Bartimaeus]

---

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.013: Hungry for a good time

---

_{Interaction(s): Yes!}

Previously: --

The crying of gulls above and the dull roar of the ocean made for a tranquil atmosphere that few could deny. It was marred solely by the sounds of busy chattering, the semi-drowned racket of which was comforting, somehow, in its own right. Maybe it was the fact that this was a beach for P.R.C.U personnel - meaning every voice heard was a potential friend, at least to Pallyx. She opened her eyes, the beaming light of the sun meeting them only after being filtered through a pair of dark shades. A light, content smile formed on her lips as she bathed in the warm rays while faintly rocking atop a large, tiger-themed ring-float. Said float found its resting spot only a couple feet from the shore, a mere few inches between it and the shallow bed of sand that sat beneath.

It was a tad rare to see Pallyx chilling by her lonesome - but even she had to pipe down every once in a while. At least for a little bit. She moved a hand lazily to a pouch on the float, plucking out a small tube of sunscreen and re-applying it to her arms as her eyes regarded the immediate beach after her mini-nap. Her brow raised as she witnessed Harper chastising a few students with a megaphone. The sight tickled her, drawing her lips into a smile even further.

"Let 'em know, Harper!" She called out encouragingly, cocking her head up with a toothy grin. She paddled her feet on the surface of the water as she watched the other beachgoers scurry to pick up their trash abashedly. Pallyx was one to quite enjoy the beach - it made for tons of fun times. Keeping it clean helped keep it fun and pretty, so she was glad that Harper felt the need to ensure that it was.

The light-haired girl adjusted her hat - a tan, broad-rimmed had that she always wore when taking a trek to the beach - nestling it to the top of her head comfortably. Her eyes flicked over to Calliope as The Ice Queen herself arrived on-scene. Pallyx couldn't hear her greeting entirely from the seclusion of her float, but she could at least admire her fit. She had to say, her friends - or, well, at least those immediately related to her friend circle - were a beach-ready bunch, to be sure. Calliope even brought a cute hat along, which Pallyx couldn't help but nod in approval towards. She was a big hat fan, as many knew.

Personally, Pallyx's outfit was pretty simple. A black, two-piece bikini accompanied by a gauzy, white button-up blouse left un-buttoned. Her shoes, which she opted to leave behind at her beach towel, were lightweight tevas in black.

She felt the sudden urge to stretch and let out a relieved groan as she did so, squishing the tiger-float's head in the process. She glanced over at the others again as she considered leaving the comfort of her float. "Mmm, a drink sounds pretty good right now, honestly." She decided. She took a second to soak in her last bits of sunbathing before she dismounted the float, finding the soft sand beneath her feet as she took up the float in an arm and began widening the distance between her and the ocean.

As luck would have it, Banjo himself would wind up approaching the flock just before Pallyx. She pipped up her step, tossing a hand up lazily to greet the bunch. "Boom!" She exclaimed, entering comfortable earshot just as Banjo took a spot and laid down. "Just in time! Y'all enjoying the weather? I'm lovin' it, perfect for a lil catnap, ain't it?" She dropped her float onto a bright red towel next to her backpack and sandals before strolling over to one of the coolers, water still dripping down her legs smoothly as she stooped. "We gotta have somethin' fruity in here still, yeah?"

[Skai]

---

H A V E N
H A V E N

_{Location: The Beach - PRCU}

Welcome Home #1.014: A Shorebird for a Day

---

_{Interaction(s): Lorcán @Lord Wraith, Rory @webboysurf, Pallyx @Bartimaeus, Casual Wave towards Others}

Previously: N/A

A few yards from the Blackjack reunion laid an unfolded PRCU towel. A pair of tan sandals and denim shorts laid on top to keep the sea breeze from blowing it away. It's owner had been missing for a while, lost to the sun and waves on such a beautiful day. If one peered out over the horizon for long enough, they might catch a glimpse of the owner. If they didn't know her, they'd see a large seabird with legs.

Haven soared over the rolling waves, pure bliss written across her face since she left the shore. Her wings beat powerful strokes against the cool air coming from the north, the muscles in her back doing all of the work for her. The high sun above warmed her feathers and skin, which had become tanned and lightly freckled over her summer vacation. Her hair was a wild whip of golden-brown behind her. A pocket of thermal air rose up beneath her and she simply coasted for a few moments. The weightlessness that came with these moments was a feeling that she wished she could bottle.

Her coasting brought her up a few meters or so, and she found herself gliding alongside some seagulls. She looked over at them, noticing their curiosity in the way their feathers dipped on their left side to fly a little closer to her. They lingered for a moment, before turning away towards the shore as they undoubtedly decided that they had seen enough for the day. Haven chuckled to herself before the last of the warm air left the tips of her feathers. She leaned her head back, arching her body and her wings to somersault and dive towards the water below.

Her wings stretched out beside her as she leveled herself out again, the muscles in her back going taut as she caught herself a few meters above the water. From this view the water seemed to glisten in the sunlight. The ripples appearing like blades of grass at her speed. She leaned her body left, and her wings tipped to turn her towards the shoreline.

Ahead of her was the boat Haven had seen Banjo and his butler and babysitter fishing from earlier. She took herself up into the air, flying just high enough to miss the fishing lines and the upper level. "The fish are to your left!" She called out to the Butler below as she passed him overhead. If he hadn't seen her coming, her voice would have been carried along the wind and her shadow passing overhead the only indication that she'd been by. Lilting laughter also might have been heard fading away as she headed inland.

Even this far out, Haven could see the beach had come alive since she left it. She scanned the crowd, searching for her things and any familiar faces. In a happy coincidence, she spotted her things just a few yards from her favorite teammates. The boys were gathering around the cluster of girls, and poor Lorcan had just gotten a face-full of leather. Her wings beat faster now, eager to join her friends on land.

She was a flurry of feathers, her hands tucked in at her sides to ease the friction of air against her. She coasted the air coming off of a wave, angling herself up and over it's crest just as it began to reach the shallows. While she focused on slowing herself down, she looked for a clear space to land and fortunately found one close to the group.

Haven soon lowered herself onto the sand, her wings beating downwards to make her landing as light as a feather. The sand was warm under her bare feet. Another feeling Haven wished she could bottle up for a rainy day. She dug her toes into the sand for a moment, before looking towards the gathered members of Blackjack. A grin spread across her face as she tucked her wings in and headed towards them.

Rory and Lorcan stood closest to her. She pushed her hair back from her face as she approached them, trying to keep her eyes from lingering on Rory's exposed muscles for too long. "Hey, boys." She called in greeting as she approached them in a lime green swim short combo. "You alright, Lorcan? I saw you eat leather from a mile away." Haven teased him with a little grin. She noticed Pallyx standing by the cooler and waved at her with a bright smile. Then she simply sent a salute towards the others gathered around the umbrellas as her legs carried her over to the cooler. She smiled towards Rory as she pulled out a Claw and cracked it open. Her eyes crinkled around the edges. "Thanks for bringing the drinks, Rory."

---

[Zoldyck]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.015: Memories old and new

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Amma @Rockette}

Previously: TBD

A lone figure sat amongst the hustle and bustle of Dundas Island’s beach. It was swarming with freshmen experiencing the island for the first time, old students meeting each other after a long summer break and even some locals. Katja didn’t pay much heed to them though and neither did many of the bypassers pay much attention to the blonde girl. Cradling her knees, her thoughts were on something completely different as she observed another ferry making its approach to the slipway.

I hope they all made it without incident.

Katja was lucky that she had been on one of the earliest ferries to set off for Dundas Island. Only a handful of protesters had arrived at the departure area and they didn’t seem to have any courage yet to confront a ferryload of Hypes. Now however, reports were slowly trickling in that the Munies hadn’t just gotten comfortable enough to shout their vile phrases, but they had actually found the nerve to try and assault students!

Katja balled her fists. Just thinking about it made her blood boil. Had they forgotten that it was Hypes who stopped Hyperion? It were the Hypes who went against their own self-interest to protect an ungrateful Mundane society. A society that did not want them. A society that claimed it did not need them.

The rhetoric that was going around these days, she had heard it before. The last time Katja had heard it, it was being shouted at her family in their own home. She knew what would be yelled when that shouting reached a crescendo.

^{_{”Kill the Hypie…”}} the young Afrikaner girl muttered to herself, as if to emphasize the point to herself.

But just as her memories were about to take her back to that fateful day, a familiar voice rang out in the distance.

^{_{“No littering, maggots!”}}

The sound of Harper’s voice shook Katja out of her gloomy mood and back to the here and now.

That’s right, she was so caught up in her thoughts that she had completely forgotten the reason why she went down to the beach to begin with! It was time for the annual unofficial team meetup!

As Katja slowly got to her feet she noticed that the attention of the surrounding people almost instantly got diverted to her. After all, the six foot eight Starting Center of the Chimera’s and Captain of the Alces Hyperball Team struck quite the figure. She wore a shirt in the Chimera colors, black, red and gold. Sleeveless of course, as Katja was a firm proponent of the “suns out guns out” philosophy. Underneath she wore her athletic black with white trim two piece swimsuit.

Peering over the crowded beach, it only took the blonde girl a few moments to spot her beloved Team Blackjack all clustering around a series of umbrellas and lounge chairs. Making her way over, she could spot Rory tossing a football around with Lorcán and some of the Canis boys, Banjo making a beeline to Calliope, Gil chatting up some of the girls while Pallyx and Haven were helping themselves to some drinks from the cooler. The only ones missing were Katja herself and…

Scanning the beach, Katja found the missing person she was looking for was actually much closer to her than the rest of Blackjack.

Amma.

The raven haired girl was wading in the water, seemingly only concerned with her own thoughts. Most passers-by seemed to give her a wide berth, not wishing to attract the attention of the mysterious girl. Hell, even her own team seemed to be fine with keeping a relatively large distance between themselves and their newest member. And it honestly didn’t seem like Amma cared much for it either.

After taking some tentative steps into the water Katja finally called out to the smaller French girl."Ya know,” she started as she got closer. “if you’re gonna keep doing that thing with the shell and the creepy smile.” A few steps later Katja practically got face to face with the other girl. "Some people are gonna think you’re a bit of a psycho.”

Katja let a silence hang between the two of them as she looked down at Amma. However, it only took a handful of seconds before she started to crack.

A wide grin appeared on the tall blonde’s face as she moved in to give the raven-haired girl a tight embrace, lifting the shorter girl out of the water with ease.

"Come on, you can admit it. You missed me, didn’t ya?” Katja said before putting Amma back down again, still grinning from ear to ear.

[Melissa]

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.0016: I Could Use a Drink

^{_{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Harper @Qia, Mei @Garden Gnome, Gil @Roman, Lorcán @Lord Wraith, Rory @Webboysurf, Haven @Skai}

Previously: Sights and Sounds

Harper’s lips curved upward involuntarily as Aurora’s voice floated toward her.

“Somebody has to keep these maggots in line,” she quipped, her hand sweeping across the beach to emphasize the scattered debris. The sun-drenched sand was still somewhat strewn with remnants of carelessness—discarded wrappers, forgotten plastic bottles, and the occasional abandoned flip-flop. “Or this place will be a disaster zone by the end of the day,” Harper added, her tone half-serious, half-teasing, “And don’t you dare say I’m being too hard on them. Someone has to remind them that this beach is more than just a playground. It’s a fragile ecosystem—a sanctuary for creatures big and small. Like...Kat and little Rothy. And I care immensely about both! So there!” She harrumphed with a pout before dissolving into giggles, Aurora joining her with a melodic laugh.

“I would never! You’re not wrong though… I’d be devastated if they ruined the beach.” Aurora commented as her mind drifted, thinking of the many evenings she’d spent sitting on the shore listening to the waves crash and letting her panic wash away. That, and the boy who’d often keep her company.

“In all seriousness,” Harper continued once she caught her breath, her eyes dancing, “you’re looking at PRCU's new and one and only lifeguard.” She struck a pose, hands on her hips, channeling her inner superhero. “Watch out, world! Harper’s on duty.”

The redhead was brought out of her nostalgic thoughts by her friend’s energetic excitement. “That’s great, Harper! I can’t think of anyone better for the job. It’s the perfect community contribution for you.”

Harper’s gaze shifted from the sun-kissed beach to the worn pages of her sketchbook at Aurora’s comment. “Thanks, Rora,” she replied, her voice soft. She traced the curve of the protagonist’s winged back with her fingertip. “I’ll have to add you to my list of subjects.”

“I’d love nothing more.” Aurora stated before turning to Mei, who had just joined them, giving the girl a welcoming wave as she sat down underneath their umbrella.

The redhead had never been great about being on the receiving end of compliments. Although she greatly valued the sentiment of someone going out of their way to say something nice about her, it was always a challenge to find the words to convey her appreciation properly. Throughout her time at PRCU she had gotten better at accepting them, but still, she much preferred to give a compliment rather than to get one herself. So, when Mei complimented her swimsuit, she did her best not to hesitate and simply offered the girl a genuine smile back.

“Thank you! I’m just really hoping I don’t burn to a crisp. Wouldn’t want to start off the semester on the wrong foot.”

Luckily for her, Gil’s approach took some of the pressure off by changing the subject. “Gil! It’s great to see you too.” She replied to his greeting. “Of course, this year is going to be one to remember, I just know it.”

It truly was hard for Aurora to believe that after 7 years, she was going to be graduating from Pacific Royal Collegiate & University. It had been a long and winding road, mostly bumpy, to get to this point, but she felt fortunate that all of the twists and turns had brought her here. Looking back, she was a completely different person now from when she had first stepped off that ferry as a skittish 12-year-old.

Almost as if on cue, the only person who was fully able to recognize how much she had grown, how much she had truly changed, ran across the beach. The boy who had been by her side through it all, the one who had crossed her mind only a few moments prior. The redhead watched as Lorcán threw a football back to Rory as he joined their group of Canis friends. Most of the girls she knew would have focused their attention on his toned torso or his strong arms, but Aurora found herself gazing at his sunset colored eyes and his bright smile.

While the majority of their current Blackjack cohort enrolled in the first year of University, Aurora and Lorcán had been there for the long haul since Collegiate. He’d been a constant for her since the beginning, and for a girl who only knew change her whole life, it meant everything.

Calli’s arrival caught Aurora’s eye, and she took her focus away from the brown haired boy for only a moment to greet the resident Ice Queen. But, clearly something happened in that split second, because when she looked back she found herself wincing as she watched Lorcán hit the ground with a thud. He might have been an athlete, but that didn’t mean he was always the most coordinated.

“Looks like Myotis could have a real shot at the Laurels this year…” She joked to Gil, blissfully unaware of what had actually caused the boy to take a football to the face. As he sprung up from the ground though, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. A small part of her felt at ease knowing he was okay.

And then Lorcán was looking their way, waving, and Aurora’s face flushed almost instantly as they made eye contact. Sure, they had seen each other over the summer a decent amount - they’d spent many nights together right here, on this very beach, like they always had - but for some reason, this felt different. Maybe it was because all of their friends were around, and yet, Lorcán’s attention seemed focused on only her.

Or maybe it was just a little hot outside and she was seeing things. Yeah, that was it. At least that’s what she told herself as her mouth grew dry. She needed water… or an alcoholic beverage.

Standing up, she brushed the sand off her legs. “I’m going to go grab a drink if anyone wants to come with me,” Aurora shared, the words seeming to catch in her throat just a tad, “Rory practically brought the whole liquor store with him.” She began to walk towards the group that had formed around the cooler, but as she made her way over, she couldn’t help but watch as Amma sauntered across the sand, power radiating outward with every step. The redhead felt goosebumps raise on her arms as the raven haired girl reduced an innocent shell to dust.

There was something off about her, and until Aurora could figure out what it was, she was going to give that girl a wide berth and keep her distance.

Shaking off the fear that had tightened her neck and shoulders, she continued on until she was in earshot of Rory, Haven, and Lorcán, easily maneuvering herself into the conversation. “Yeah, Rory, really sweet of you to think of everyone.” Aurora leaned down to grab a hard seltzer and cracked it open, taking a long swig. “Where’s your brother? Will, right?” She asked, having remembered that he was starting at PRCU this year. She then directed her attention to Haven and motioned to the cloudless sky “Perfect day, right? I saw you out there before, you looked like you were really enjoying yourself.”

Aurora’s left hand absentmindedly moved up to her necklace as she began to fiddle with the heart shaped charm along the gold chain. “Hi Lorcán,” she looked up at him with a smile, “Catch any good waves this morning?” She took another sip from the can in her right before continuing, knowing that the brown haired boy had kin of his own starting this year as well. He had told the redhead all about her over the last few months and how excited he was for his cousin to join him on campus. “And what about Ripley, is she here yet? I can’t wait to meet her.”

[Qia]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.0017: Rainbows

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Aurora @Melissa, Gil @Roman, Katja @Zoldyck, Amma @Rockette}

Previously: Tides of Responsibility:Harper’s Campus Stand

An involuntary smile curved Harper's lips as Aurora's voice drifted toward her, the familiar tone piercing through the salty sea breeze. Despite her best efforts to maintain the stern facade of a seasoned "drill sergeant," Aurora's playful teasing possessed an uncanny ability to chip away at Harper's resolve.

“Somebody has to keep these maggots in line,”Harper quipped, her hand sweeping across the beach to emphasize the scattered debris. The sun-drenched sand was still somewhat strewn with remnants of carelessness—discarded wrappers, forgotten plastic bottles, and the occasional abandoned flip-flop. As Harper’s gaze swept across the beach, she noticed the colourful contrast of her friend Aurora's vibrant hair, a fiery blend of red, orange, and golden yellow, against the deep green hues of the palm fronds swaying gently in the breeze behind her.

"Otherwise, this place will be a disaster zone by the end of the day,"she added, her tone half-serious, half-teasing. "And don’t you dare say I’m being too hard on them. Someone has to remind them that this beach is more than just a playground. It’s a fragile ecosystem—a sanctuary for creatures big and small. Like…Kat and little Rothy. And I care immensely about both! So there!" She harrumphed with a pout before dissolving into giggles.

As Aurora sat down, Harper took a moment to truly observe her friend. She always looked so stunning, no matter what she wore. Her hair shimmered in the sunlight like a halo. Her eyes, the colour of a seafloor dotted with sunken ships, seemed to hold a thousand mysteries—and Harper felt lucky to be privy to some of them. She practically embodied everything Harper admired, too. She was the yin to her yang—the chaos to her order. And as much as Harper grumbled about the students’ lackadaisical attitude, she secretly revelled in Aurora’s presence. It was like a soothing balm for her perpetually furrowed brow.

“In all seriousness,” Harper continued once she caught her breath, her eyes dancing,“you’re looking at P.R.C.U.'s new and one and only lifeguard.”She struck a pose, hands on her hips, channelling her inner superhero. “Watch out, world! Harper’s on duty.”

Harper’s gaze shifted from the sun-kissed beach to the worn pages of her sketchbook at Aurora’s comment. She wasn’t usually one to seek out compliments. Her art was a silent companion, a refuge from the world's chaos. But Aurora’s praise slipped past her defences, settling in a corner of her heart. It was nice to have her work acknowledged, even if she rarely shared it beyond these pages.

“Thanks, Rora,” Harper replied, her voice soft. She traced the curve of the protagonist’s winged back with her fingertip. “I’ll have to add you to my list of subjects.”

Although, she’d already drawn Aurora once.

Harper’s sketchbook held her remaining secrets. Each line drawn was a confession, a silent tribute to the people that coloured her world presently. And Aurora was no exception to that. Her old shyness resurfaced, however, tangling her tongue. So, she settled for a half-smile.

That quickly vanished once he decided to make his presence known.

Gil.

Harper's heart fluttered slightly, and she couldn't help but avert her gaze, looking down at her lap as if searching for something beyond the polished surface of the megaphone resting there. She was so captivated by his presence that she barely took notice of Mei's arrival, an oversight she knew she would have to apologize for later, accompanied by some pitiful excuse.

To distract herself from the whirlwind of emotions, Harper’s fingers traced the edges of her sketchbook, which she had swiftly—though not subtly—swapped for the megaphone.The graphite smudged her skin as she turned it over, revealing the familiar embossed design at the front.

“Yeah… gonna be great,” she managed as an answer to his question, her voice steadier than expected. Four words. No stutter. Progress. But beneath the surface, her thoughts churned like a tempest. She’d drawn Gil before, too—captured glimpses of his essence in fleeting strokes. His blue stormy eyes were etched into her memory, a detail she could never quite capture on paper when he wasn’t watching (and surely not when he was). Just from memory, she’d recreate the curve of his lips, the tilt of his chin, the way his hair fell across his forehead.

Harper’s cheeks warmed, and she wondered if he’d ever stumble upon her sketches. Would he recognize himself in those lines? Or would they remain secret, hidden within the pages of her sketchbook, a silent tribute to the guy who made her heart race and her fingers itch for the touch of charcoal?

Thank goodness for Calliope’s arrival. Harper didn’t think she could take much more of whatever was going on in her head.

The sun painted Calliope's silhouette with hues of indigo, casting a dark, almost regal aura around her as she approached the group. The deep blue-violet shade seemed to embody the coolness Harper often sensed in Calliope's demeanour, and as her figure drew closer, the indigo shadows receded, revealing her familiar features and that controlled, calculated warmth Harper had come to associate with her.

And when there’s the blonde beauty queen there is…the Dung Beetle.

Right on cue, Harper's ears picked up the distinct drawl of Banjo's accent as he approached the growing group—an accent that often grated on her nerves due to the fact that she could hardly understand him half the time. Seriously, what the hell was a Soup star!? The man was a walking, talking enigma, and not always the charming kind.

She needed a break, and she needed it pronto.

The brunette stood up to follow her copper-headed friend, deftly slipping her sketchbook into the camo drawstring bag stationed beside her before leaving. She brushed the clinging sand from her sun dress as she walked, her gaze now lingering on Rory’s cooler. He’d set it up upon arrival, a silent invitation to quench their collective thirst. But Harper’s attention wasn’t solely on the chilled beverages; it was on the figure she’d noticed earlier—Amma—strolling near the water’s edge.

While everyone congregated here, Amma stood apart, a solitary silhouette against the horizon. A familiar feeling enveloped Harper at the sight—one that she had often experienced herself during her first year here, isolated amidst a sea of people. The loneliness was a shade of violet, a gentle hue but unmistakably present, connecting them in their shared solitude. It wrapped around Amma like a delicate veil, almost like she was a figure in an old horror painting.

The thought of her alone, forgotten, tugged at Harper’s empathy. And that simply would not do. So, with determination etched into her expression, she pondered her options—the possible unspoken peace offerings that could bridge the gap.

Two beer cans caught her eye, their metallic coolness promising refreshment. Harper frowned; her decision was made. If Amma wanted anything different, she’d have to venture here herself. For now, Harper carried not just beer but a silent invitation. One that she hoped Amma would take.

As Harper turned around, however, she was greeted with a scene she honestly should have expected: Katja engulfing Amma with one of her famous bear hugs. That girl truly was sunshine incarnate. She peered down at the two cans in her hand and decided to keep with her original intention. At least, this time, she wasn’t risking putting Amma on the spot.

“Hey ladies,”she greeted the both of them as she drew near, holding up the cans in her hand,“Care to join us?”

[webboysurf]

Previously...

“Dude, did you iron your dress uniform?” Lorcán asked before kicking his feet into the air and jumping upright again. “I totally forgot about the senior dance after the Homecoming Trials, you think you’re going to ask anyone?” Lorcán fished, his fiery eyes darting back towards their redheaded teammate. His arm shot up to wave towards the gathered members of Blackjack while his mind began going through all the things Lorcán knew Aurora enjoyed.

His father had always said that you don’t ask someone out empty-handed. You need to bring a gift. But what gift could possibly say enough, while simultaneously playing it cool to lowkey ask a girl to the Senior Dance?

“...How do you go about asking someone?” The question escaped from between Lorcán’s lips, but his words weren’t directed at Rory. It was more like a thought meant to be kept inside rather than suddenly out there for the Canis boys to hear. The smile on Lorcán’s face continued to grow.

“Bro, can you pass me one of those 'Claws?”

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.018: My Own Worst Enemy

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_{Interaction(s): Lorcán - @Lord Wraith, Haven - @Skai, Aurora - @Melissa, Pallyx - @Bartimaeus}

Previously: TBD

^{| Monday, September 4th, 2028}

As Rory patted Lorcán on the shoulder, he took a moment to notice that all of Blackjack was back together again. His smile was near infectious as he wrapped an arm around his best mate, steering him in the direction of the coolers and the others. "I asked an underclassman to iron my uniform for me, in exchange for a case of beer. We both know what happened last time I tried to iron the fancy set. As for the dance..." Rory's mind echoed with Lorcán's question. How do you ask someone out? Well, you obviously just ask if they are going. It seemed so easy even he could figure it out. But as the two began approaching the rest of the group, Rory looked towards Aurora and just nodded to himself. He looked over to Lorcán and whispered, "Don't worry, bro. I'll show you how it's done."

Time seemed to slow down for a moment, though, as a familiar rush of wind came in from the side. Rory's gaze slowly turned towards the winged figure, the sun seeming to trace and illuminate the tips of her tawny feathers. The wind was swept up in and around her face, but he would recognize that body anywhere. Haven moved in with a nonchalant air about her that always made him envious. As soon as that grin adorned her face, he slowed to a near stop and just watched her for a moment. Rory simply lifted a hand in acknowledgement, but nothing more than a grunt managed to escape his lips. It took everything in his power to not down as she walked towards the cooler. He removed the arm from around Lorcán and approached the cooler, leaning over to pull out a Claw next to Haven. "Thanks for bringing the drinks, Rory."

"Uhh... yeah, no problem, Wi-err... Haven. You look..." Rory paused as he motioned towards her with an occupied hand, taking her all in before instinctively looking away towards Lorcán to toss him the Claw. He muttered softly, "You look really good, Wings." He cleared his throat, hand reaching up to wipe the sweat from his brow. He must have worked up quite a sweat playing catch. That was clearly it, nothing else. Rory's hand was barely making an impact, so he quickly removed his Hawaiian shirt and used the sleeve to wipe a bit of the sweat. Afterwards, he tossed it towards his bag and leaned back towards the cooler. He gave a brief smile to Pallyx, reaching in to pull a cider for her and held it out. "Let me know if this is fruity enough for ya, Vamps. If not, I can shake up a cocktail for ya."

Satisfied in his hosting, he fetched a can of water and cracked it open. He took a refreshing sip, and gave a nod towards Aurora as she approached. “Yeah, Rory, really sweet of you to think of everyone. Where’s your brother? Will, right?”

Record Scratch

Rory's happy go lucky smile, in an instant, became a hollow shell. He stared blankly at Aurora for a moment. He knew she meant nothing by it... but Will's sadistic smile was still burned in his mind. That was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. When she immediately moved on to the others, Rory felt relieved. He gulped down half his can as Aurora eventually moved on to talking to Lorcán.

“...How do you go about asking someone?”

Rory looked from Aurora, to Lorcán, and back to Aurora. The soft smile returned to his face. They were cute whenever they spoke. Her smile was different around him, and he seemed to be lost in her presence. Surely, she wanted to go to the dance with him. And he wanted to ask her. All they needed was an opening.

Enter, Rory.

Rory took a couple steps towards them, lifting his elbow high to rest it on Lorcán's shoulder. He looked to Aurora, smiled, and made his opening move.

"Hey Red, Hot Shot over here just reminded me... there's this senior dance after the Homecoming Trials. You want to go?" Rory looked over towards Lorcán with a knowing, smug look.

There, on a platter right in front of him, was an opening to ask her to the dance.

There's no way this could possibly be misconstrued.

[Lord Wraith]

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_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.019: Coarse, Rough & Irritating

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Rory Tyler - @webboysurf, Aurora Mitchell - @Melissa}

Previously: Claws Out

Lorcán watched as Aurora helped herself to the cooler before briefly glancing down at the seltzer in his hand. His nose crinkled with a minor expression of dissatisfaction, he didn’t drink these; instead, he had been hoping to give the seltzer to the girl now standing in front of him complete with a drink she had selected herself.

On the plus side though, Lorcán applauded himself for picking the same flavour that Aurora selected for herself; raspberry. It was the same flavour she had requested the day Lorcán had offered to grab her some ice cream from the Mess Hall to try and cheer her up after another nightmare. Since then it had become customary whenever Lorcán could tell Aurora was upset for him to make a detour to the Mess Hall and return with her favourite sweet treat, a bowl of White Chocolate Raspberry Swirl, complete with a hearty helping of fresh raspberries arranged in a smiley face.

No longer requiring the beverage currently clasped in his hand, Lorcán realized he either needed to drink it or get rid of it. Since the former wasn’t about to happen, Lorcán would have to sneak it back into the cooler before Aurora saw he had tried to bring her a drink. Swinging his hand around behind his back, Lorcán attempted to drop the can back into the cooler, only for it to hit the side and bounce on top of his bare foot.

His nose wrinkled again, this time in protest of a suppressed wince as Lorcán tried to play off the pain so as not to appear weak in front of Aurora. She was talking to him now, he needed his brain to work again.

Ignore the pain, dude!

Aurora’s left hand absentmindedly moved up to her necklace as she began to fiddle with the heart-shaped charm along the gold chain. Lorcán’s eyes followed, the scent of her perfume being this close was intoxicating. The faint scent of rose drifted to his nose, unlocking memories of seeing her for the first time just outside the rose bushes in front of the Administration building. Watching Aurora’s fingers twirl the gold chain before they moved downward towards the pendant, Lorcán’s eyes absentmindedly followed before realizing they were going into her valley. Immediately raising them, his eyes met Aurora’s own blue irises, and his pulse began to quicken.

“Hi Lorcán,”

She looked up at him with a smile, her tone practically melodic to Lorcán’s ears as she smiled in the way that only Aurora ever smiled at him.

“Catch any good waves this morning?” She asked before taking a delicate sip from her drink. “And what about Ripley, is she here yet? I can’t wait to meet her.”

Before Lorcán had a chance to answer, Rory leaned into their conversation, lifting his elbow high to rest it on Lorcán's shoulder. He looked at Aurora, smiled, and made his opening move.

"Hey Red, Hot Shot over here just reminded me... there's this senior dance after the Homecoming Trials. You want to go?" Rory looked over towards Lorcán with a knowing, smug look.

“Bro, _{I don’t know what you think you’re doing}-,” Lorcán began in a hushed tone to the other young man currently resting on his shoulder, “-_{But I’m pretty sure you’re doing it wrong.}” He added.

“You didn't even offer her a gift.”

Shaking his head in solemn disapproval, Lorcán’s eyes darted from Rory to Aurora while the question hung in the air. Though he didn’t know why he was lingering. Lorcán had no interest in hearing this particular answer.

“Uh, we’ll definitely talk later,” Lorcán smiled apologetically, “I’ll be sure to find Ripley to introduce you,” He added.

“And like totally save me a dance, dude!.” Lorcán playfully said while putting a hand on Aurora’s shoulder that lingered before starting his exit. He had aimed to beat a hasty retreat, but Lorcán was rapidly realizing he was blocked by Aurora in front of him and Rory to the side.

Taking a step backwards, he suddenly was greeted by a frigid chill that raced from his heel through his spine. A soft hissing noise became audible as Lorcán's immediate area was dosed in a light fog from the rapidly melting ice in the cooler. Toppling backwards, Lorcán fell over the cooler, landing on the other side in a cloud of sand and evaporating steam.

Throwing both of his arms up in double peace signs, Lorcán let out a bemused sign and he resigned to just lay there for a second, staring towards the sun hoping it chose now to swallow the Earth.

[PatientBean]

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_{Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus}

Welcome Home #1.020: Cooling Off

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_{Interaction(s): Banjo (@Hound55), Lorcán (@Lord Wraith), Rory (@webboysurf), Aurora (@Melissa)}

Previously: When Hot And Cold Meet

As the others began milling and drinking, Calliope relaxed on the towel she had set up. She glanced over and saw a figure approach. He began to frame her with his hands like a photographer and Calliope couldn't help but smile. Banjo never ceased to make her feel better. What others often felt was an annoyingly goofy persona Calliope knew better. Inside the Class Clown was a kind heart. He never stopped making her feel special.

Once safely beside her, she leaned over and kissed him quickly. "Hello love. Things are good." Calliope wanted to begin speaking on her debate progress as well as her moving within Mock Trial, but now was not the time. They were on the beach, which on a normal day she would detest and stay far away from, but she was amongst friends and others, as well as her love, so she would suffer through it.

Calliope was content to sit there leaning into Banjo's warmth when she began listening into the other's conversation. It wasn't difficult due to their relative location. Lorcán was standing there after being whiffed by a ball thrown by Rory. Haven and Harper were there. Harper seemed authoritative, more so than was usual given her new work as a lifeguard. Good on her. She also noticed some art supplies and had to admit she was curious. Across the way, Amma was standing there and looked to be conversing with Katja. Calliope had to admit, the two of them didn't seem like a likely friendship. Amma was concerning, but Calliope knew from personal experience that looks were often deceiving. And if Katja liked her, then that was enough.

Pallyx also made an appearance. The girl seemed out of place on the beach also and Calliope had to give her credit there. Going out of your comfort zone was not easy. Though perhaps she was assuming facts not in evidence.

Get out of lawyer mode Calli. Enjoy the dang beach!"

Her attention was drawn back to Lorcán and Aurora. God the two of them had it bad. It didn't take an expert in body language to see, though why neither bit the bullet was beyond her.

“Catch any good waves this morning? And what about Ripley, is she here yet? I can’t wait to meet her.”

Ok the conversation was going well.

"I don't understand... pandas are easier to get together."

Calliope nearly giggled but held it in. It was easy to lose herself when Banjo was nearby. She'd have to address that at some point.

"Not everyone is as loud and open about their feelings as you"

That got some silence from Banjo (a rare occurrence) so she assumed he conceded on her point. Banjo had secrets, sure. She did too. But he often wore his heart on his sleeve for those he cared for. Her's was a little more hidden. Hidden underneath layers of scars.

"..."
"...I guess. Well, Rory's going to say som-- BAA HA HA HA HA HA!"

Spoken at the same time that Rory, the Golden Retriever Good Boy (tm) that he was, interjected himself. "Hey Red, Hot Shot over here just reminded me... there's this senior dance after the Homecoming Trials. You want to go?"

""Oh shush. He's trying at least. Though that was bold, even by my standards."

Callipe nearly facepalmed. She got Rory's intention: he was hoping Auoroa would say no because she obviously wanted to go with Lorcán or Lorcán would speak up in defense and ask her out also, leaving Aurora with choices, one of which was obvious. This plan had clearly not been approved or thought through given Lorcán's reaction. Calliope saw the tenseness in his neck, the holding back of a frown or a scowl. Lorcán didn't seem like the type to ever get angry or upset. Despite his powers, he was no hot-head. Still, Lorcán clearly was not a happy camper.

“And like totally save me a dance, dude!.” Calliope couldn't hear everything, but Lorcán had spoken softly to Rory before making a break for it to the cooler, in which time he had toppled over it and fell to the sand.

Calliope saw Banjo was trying and failing to contain his obnoxious laughter. "I'm gonna need a minute or five..."
"Oh shit, there he goes! In the drinks!"

Calliope couldn't let this go on further. No one was enjoying this (despite Banjo). She stood up. "Okay, I need to step in. Lorcan is...not doing great. Save my spot, won't you love? And try to hold in your laughter until he's in a better mood to reciprocate it?" "For you, I'll put it on ice. Speaking of.." He held his warm, half-finished bottle out, for Calli to add a chill to, with a pleading wide grin. Calliope rolled her eyes and touched the bottle, sending a chill through it enough to ice it up.

"Ta, love."

Calliope walked over to Lorcán and offered her hand. "Hey, are you okay?" Calliope would help Lorcán to his feet before helping brush off the sand. "Hey, I couldn't help but overhear, but it also didn't take much to see what Rory did got to you. You and I both know he meant well. You're smart, you're attractive, and you are one of the sweetest guys I know. Whether or not Aurora sees through this thinly veiled attempt to get the two of you together, she likes you too. It's a girl thing, trust me." She patted his shoulder before turning to the group. "All good. Let me fix this." Calliope reached for the cooler, sending a chill through it with noticeable ice on the inside. "All right, that should keep it cool for a good bit. Rory, can you come over here and mix me up a martini, please? We can perhaps talk and catch up." She'd have a conversation with the good-meaning bonehead. She waved at Aurora also, hoping the girl could see what was happening.