AlteredTundra

that's so meta || character storage thread

Marco Castillo-Brady || Edenridge: Book I - The Return

Have you ever seen the rain coming down on a sunny day? — Creedence Clearwater Revival

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𝙉𝙖𝙢𝙚

Marco Castillo Brady

𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨

• Mac
• Marc
• Castle (From Lanie)
• Chubs (from his "Friends" on PSN)

𝘼𝙜𝙚

19, September 22nd

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧

Cisgendered Male

𝙎𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮

Bisexual - No lean

𝙍𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙨

Single

𝘼𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝘿𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨

By looking at him, you might not assume that Marco is half-Mexican. But he is. His light features are mainly inherited from his father’s Scot-Irish ancestry, especially when you look at the two of them side by side: the pointed nose, the triangular jawline, and, of course, the blue eyes. The slight freckles and his dark hair, which comes with fine threads signaling great genes when it comes to hair, seem to be a mix of both as both Colin and Marlena have excellent hair even at their age.

Another thing that Marco has going for him that’s more his father than not is his athletic build and height. Before his injury, he had a body made for nearly all sports, which he, of course, dabbled in because one, he loves moving around and getting under the sun, but he was also really good at it. Though, in a post-injury life, Marco no longer has retained his athletic feature. Since being injured, Marco has put on roughly about twenty-five pounds. His cheeks are slightly pudgy, he has a small double chin growing. His body looks less athlete and more Andy Dwyer from Parks and Recreation (but not as pudgy).

Before he was injured, you might've caught Marco wearing his football soccer letterman jacket with a pair of jeans (or shorts depending not the season), a knit cap if it was chilly, and some version of a t-shirt with a wacky design on it. His style was very much about comfort as it was style. But ever since he was shot and didn't have any reason to dress like he smiled (at least as much as he used to), Marco has since ditched the style aspect in favor of full comfort. He hasn't touched his letterman jacket since that day. And he mostly wears sweatpants around the house while jeans are more than sufficient for him for his everyday choice of pants whenever he goes outside. He has stuck to single-color shirts (both short sleeve and long). The knit caps have stayed, however, though mainly to hide how long his hair has become in recent months.

𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮

To his friends and even those who might not know him on a personal level, Marco is a positive ray of sunshine. He leaks confidence but never in his life has he ever been known for arrogance. And that’s because he had a firm hand growing up in the form of his father and mother always making sure he remained humble and grateful for every opportunity he was given. HIs often gentle nature is likely a large part of why he’s never had an enemy in his life. Sure, there are those who might find his whole aura to be a bit much, but that’s just who he is.

Marco is also extremely loyal and enjoys having fun. Between corny jokes and pranks (though nothing too excessive), you might find Marco being as lively as he can, living for the moment and seizing every single one that comes to him.

If there is anything to say that might hint at a downside it’s that Marco sometimes lets himself live too much in the moment. Ever the dream-chaser, Marco follows his heart and, though he doesn’t like to show it, this has led to him getting rejected a few times. He hates letting himself be seen as sad because he feels it’s his obligation to provide everyone with a smile and that pressure, in addition to everything else, has often weighed on him. And maybe more so in a post-shooting life when most of his light has faded.

Some days, Marco finds it difficult to keep up a smile when he’s by himself.

𝘽𝙞𝙤𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙝𝙮

Marco’s life has always been defined by a great calm that is immediately disrupted with a Cat-10 Hurricane that wrecks everything good in his life.

The first was how his parents met.

Both of them told me the story when I was maybe twelve or so. It came about because I wanted to know why we were moving from house to house. And when I finally came to know my parents’ wild as-fuck tale, it was like those Soaps my cousin Sinead watched when we were living in Dublin.

So apparently, back when dad wasn’t so...well-rounded as he is now and mama wasn’t so stern and worried about me getting into danger, they both were a bit wild. They never went into vivid details, but Dad was a detective in Phoenix and got caught doing something. He met mom somehow and they did things. With Each other. Abeluo, who apparently wasn’t so happy about this, did some things he has since apologized for, which thank Christ because I couldn’t imagine not going to his ranch every summer. That’s the fucking best!

Anyway, where was I? Okay, so they went on the run while I was still riding shotgun in my mama’s...you know, they fled to Ireland. And for about a decade (give or take) we lived there and, in Spain. Some time later, somehow, we found ourselves in Patriots Country.

I’m telling you, my life is enough to make a few poorly-reviewed books that would be a hit on Wattpad or something, possibly even with a few Netflix adaptations.

After years on the run and especially isolating themselves from Emilio Castillo, not only did he stop pursuing them after so long, but slowly but surely, the damaged relationships began to repair themselves. Though the Castillo-Brady family settled in Edenridge, Massachusetts, a sort of small town just outside of Boston, Marco and his family had their Abuelo in their lives. But the money and the dangers of the cartel life, the forced exile from their hometown -- all of it was laid to rest.

With Colin back as a detective with the Boston PD and his mother the owner of a beauty salon, Marco has not only enjoyed stability from age thirteen and onward, but his parents have made enough money to make it so he could pursue his athletic dreams, which of course was playing American Soccer AKA Football. He did so every year of high school at Edenridge. Marco always had dreams of playing professional Football (real football, not what Americans call Football). His dream was to play for Ireland, since he is technically an Irish citizen.

But all of his dreams were ripped away from him the minute one of Charlie Decker’s bullets hit him in his right ACL.

Marco has always blamed himself. He’s always been something of a one-tracked mind kind of person. When he was doing something he enjoyed, Marco lost track of time and that’s exactly how he didn’t hear the school bell that morning nor the warning bell. He was out in the soccer field practicing for the upcoming game they had against Pinehurst High the Saturday of that week. He had his airpods in his ears, Ozzy Osbourne’s Crazy Train (one of his father’s favorites) blaring in his ears.

He just didn’t hear it. The sound of the gunshot was muffled by the heavy metal guitar riffs, but when he was on his stomach, screaming in pain, he saw Charlie walk past him and froze.

And ever since then, Marco hasn’t been the same. Healing from the injury and rehab aside, the part of Marco Brady that brought smiles and laughs to everyone in the room. The kind of guy that would bring even the weird kids in for an accepting hug died with any hopes that he had of playing pro or going to college.

Marco can walk and he’s fine now, but he isn’t the same.

And you know what? Maybe he never will be.

𝙁𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮

Emilio Julio Luis Castillo || 70 || Abuelo || Retired Cartel Don || Face Claim: Danny Trejo
Colin Shawn Brady || 44 || Father || Boston PD Detective || Face Claim: Brett Dalton
Marlena Alejandra Castillo-Brady || 37 || Mother || Owner of Tresses Salon || Face Claim: Ana Brenda Contreras
Emiliano Gabriel Castillo-Brady || 18 || Younger Brother || Recent Graduate of Edenridge High || Face Claim: Jake T. Austin
Marcela ALejandra Castillo-Brady || 16 || Younger Sister || Junior at Edenridge High || Face Claim: Danna Paola
Not Pictured
Adrian Gabriel Castillo || 44 || Uncle || CFO of Castillo Cosmetics || Face Claim: Jay Hernandez
Mateo Francisco Castillo || 37 || Uncle || Stand-up Comedian || Face Claim: Michael Pena

𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙘

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_{Face Claim — Froy Gutierrez || Dialogue Color — Dark Goldenrod/#b8860b}
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👨‍🍳 To the dismay of his grandfather, Marco does not refer to Soccer by that name. The blame for this rests solely in his time being raised in Ireland and Spain and his eventual love for European teams versus being for Mexico

👨‍🍳 As one might imagine, not only does he have friendly heated debates with his abuelo and younger sister about the actual term, but Marco always roots for Ireland during the world cup and things can get quite tense.

👨‍🍳 Marco and his younger sister and brother spend their summers with their Abuelo Emilio in Phoenix, Arizona.
👨‍🍳 Marco is a Virgo-Libra cusp.
👨‍🍳 Marco cooks frequently and it has especially helped him through the rehabilitation process and the terrible bouts of depression he occasionally suffers from.

👨‍🍳 Pancakes are his go to comfort food

👨‍🍳 Marco has always had intense crushes on both classmates of his and celebrities and his current big celebrity crush is Meaghan Easterling, a weather girl who lives in California, though rightly so, everyone just calls her Peach. This is no doubt due to her round curves and you can bet that Marco swoons over her anytime he gets to watch her broadcast (much to the annoyance of Marcela).
👨‍🍳 When Marco isn’t cooking, he can be found on PSN and Steam as MacAttack, where he obsessively plays MOBAs of all sorts - including League of Legends, on which he is as "ThePancakeMan"

that's so meta || character storage thread

Jade Taylor || Edenridge: Book I - The Return

_{"She was all the seven deadly sins."}

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𝙉𝙖𝙢𝙚

Willow Jade Taylor

𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨

Just Jade. She hates her first name and absolutely hates its origin.

𝘼𝙜𝙚

19, December 1st

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧

Cisfemale, She/Her

𝙎𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮

Labels are stupid. Jade likes whoever the fuck she wants to.

𝙍𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙨

Single with no plans of changing that in the long-term sense.

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𝘼𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝘿𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨

▸ HEIGHT : | 5'8"
▸ WEIGHT : | 125lbs
▸ ETHNICITY : | German-American
▸ HAIR COLOR : | Blonde.
▸ EYE COLOR : | Bluish-Green.
▸ MODIFICATIONS : | Ears pierced and a tatt of clipped angel wings on her right inner-wrist.

Jade has been described as having what’s called a “pear body” with measurements that do not make her too skinny but nowhere near curvy. She works out on the regular, which may attribute to her lean build and tight features (stomach, buttocks, legs, etc). Her skin is nowhere near flawless. She does tend to keep her blonde hair unkempt, but she has a preference of looping it into a single ponytail. And aside from a slightly angled jawline and the sometimes heavy application of make-up, Jade is relatively above average as far as her natural looks go. Her genes have gifted her with being pretty and that’s honestly the only thing that can be said about that.

When it comes to her style, there’s something to be said about how Jade can make an outdated look appear to be stylish. For her, sometimes being sexy and being comfortable are one in the same. She generally likes to dress lowkey but with a flavor or two added from the grunge style. This usually translates to some generic tops, flats, jean shorts/pants, dresses often paired with a jacket of some sort, skirts with thigh-high socks, fishnet stockings, flannel shirts if she’s feeling it, and, of course, beanie knit caps for when she can’t be bothered to do her hair in the morning. Example of her style.

𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮

There’s a lot to be said about Jade as a person. On the surface, she appears to hold herself with confidence. Dressing the way that she does and not giving a fuck about what anyone might think takes a lot of balls and even more confidence to support the weight of the world that she carries on her shoulders. It might not seem like it, but even at the age of nineteen, Jade has seen more trauma in her life than anyone her age should. Because she hasn’t let it drown her is even more reason that she has a strong will to survive.

First impressions with Jade always seem to go as well as they possibly could. She’s a friendly girl and has just enough of a down-to-earth personality that doesn’t make her boring (which she is anything but), yet it doesn’t make her too overbearing. Her usually chill demeanor always serves as a gesture for people to befriend her. It’s when they see she’s got a chip on her shoulder and a bit of an edge/anger problem that might be a problem later. Being friends with Jade, however, does guarantee that she’ll fight for you at any given moment she senses people might cause a problem for her friends. She’ll defend that person or those people until she dies. Another thing that attracts people to Jade is how "easy" she is to get along with, though the reasons for that underneath are...complicated.

Just as there is an upside to Jade’s overall persona, the biggest downside boils down to two things: her temper and recklessness. Maybe she’ll punch a few people, maybe Jade will do something a little more than what some normal people call “obeying the law". She will smoke, drink, do drugs, and sleep with anyone she wants to. That kind of reckless behavior has been about a year in the making and, if recent actions are any indicator, Jade is just getting started.

𝘽𝙞𝙤𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙝𝙮

_{tw. shitty parents, alcohol, drugs, controversial opinions}

In the entirety of Willow Jade Taylor's life, there have been two Charlies who, in their own ways, made an impact on her that couldn't be shaken off even if she went to some kind of camp in the backwoods of the Midwest.

Born to a drunk and a junkie, ones who would much rather find their next score or figure out creative ways to acquire money to get their next high, Jade didn't know parental stability until her mother's brother, who most around Edenridge scowled at for his association with the Fallen Angels Motorcycle gang, stepped up when literally nobody else would. Charlie Taylor was the closest thing Jade had to a father, but to her he would always be Uncle Charlie. Though he had a day job as a mechanic, the rumors of him actually being high up in the Edenridge Charter of the Fallen Angels Motorcycle gang repeatedly became an issue for Jade - what, with the cops always hovering about. Still, she never seemed to care because, even though he did illegal things, especially as she grew older, Jade's view of the world became fixated on one important thing.

Despite Charlie dividing his focus from a legitimate job and whatever he did for the Fallen Angels, he was home every night. He helped her with her homework (of what he could), and he was there for her.

Charlie Taylor was there for Jade. No amount of rumors coming at her like a punch in the gut or tragedy could ever make her see Charlie as anyone but the only parental figure in her life that she gave a damn about and that gave a damn about her.

Maybe because of the person her uncle was and how he never, never saw her as the hopeless child of two useless parents, two people who never should have been parents to begin with, that also instilled values in her. Actually, Jade knows it's because her uncle was such a champion for the loners, for those who always were the butt of everyone's jokes, talk of the town -- whatever have you -- that were directly carried over and passed down to Jade.

And maybe that's why she felt a certain...kinship with another Charlie, but this one wasn't rugged and didn't have a dope Harley. He was named Charlie Decker and he was someone Jade considered a friend. Despite what he did. Despite the terrible thing he did, that never changed.

And for the two tragedies that her class felt, Jade was more affected by that than Alison Davies' overdose. Maybe it was due to the fact that she didn't know Alison outside of occasional hellos in the hallway. But with Charlie? There was something there. Jade always felt a bit protective over him and she had always meant to hang with him, have lunch with him, walk with him to the bus stop or to his house before she caught a ride home to the one-bedroom home she lived at with her uncle.

But over the years, like all things in life, Jade drifted into different circles. Between trying to focus on her studies and not failing and actually, you know, not trying to completely suffer in the hell of being the girl from the other side of town attending the quote-unquote "good school", Jade unintentionally became one of the many people that forgot about Charlie. But she didn't. She never forgot about him. Charlie became a part of her and whenever she heard her friends shit on him, she came to his defense.

And then it happened. In a blink of an eye, the kid that most shrugged off as quiet and timid and a nobody became a somebody. To some, he became the monster that would haunt their nightmares while some would forever remember him as the kid that got what he deserved in the end. To Jade, however, he was still the friend who shared her same morbid humor. To her, he was someone that she saw as the little brother she never had.

And she was left forever confused and conflicted about how she should feel about her friend. Those who lost someone at his hands hated him while the rest either were scarred by his actions or happy he met his end. And on some level, she understood this. But at the same time, Jade couldn't help but feel that maybe if someone had reached out, then he wouldn't have resorted to this. That maybe if she reached out sooner, he wouldn't have become another shooter who met his end via police gunfire.

And while most have moved on or healed, for an entire year, Jade remained in Edenrdige, remained in a numb stasis-like state where she spent the entirety of her first year after high school, which she barely graduated mind you, smoking, snorting, and fucking her year away. Anything she could to numb away her pain and confusion, Jade took it. And in that year, her uncle got arrested for weapons charges and was to spend five years in prison.

What happy year she's had, huh?

𝙁𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮

_{Cameron John Müller 👠 Father 👠 43 👠 Unemployed (occasional mailman) || FC: Baron Corbin
Whitney Joss Müller (nee. Taylor) 👠 Mother 👠 42 👠 Unemployed (occasional waitress) || FC: Maria Brink
Charlie Wayne Taylor 👠 Uncle and only person worthy to be considered a parent 👠 38 👠 Mechanic for the Edenridge Fallen Angels MC 👠 FC: Corey Taylor}

𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙘

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_{FC: Taylor Momsen 👠 Dialogue Color: #e62020 👠 Aesthetic Board}
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👠 Works as a waitress and occasional stripper at the "Edge of Sin" Strip Club
👠 Originally, Jade's reliance on drugs and alcohol — cocaine and Jack Daniels whiskey (her uncle's favorite) -- began as a way to cope and numb the pain of past regrets, but now she is addicted to it and loves the way it makes her feel.
👠 Jade is a chain smoker and has a preference for Marlboro Red 100s. She usually goes through five packs a week depending on her stress level.
👠 She lives in the same apartment she's lived in since she was seven.
👠 Jade's been driving her uncle's Shorttail Cruiser ever since he's been locked up and serves as her main mode of transportation.

that's so meta || character storage thread

Wesley Cross || Heed the Call

_{"It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."}

^{Wesley || 14 || Male}

Appearance Details

• 5'3"/ 105lbs
• Pale skin but not unhealthily so
• Skinny, untoned body
• Black hair and greyish-blue eyes
• Wesley's has a somewhat relaxed take on formal wear for his every day outfit, though usually it contains a few of the following:
  
  • A buttoned-up T-shirt with a plain white or black shirt underneath
  • Slacks
  • Dress shoes for events and sneakers for everything else

Belongings

• A black backpack that contains his notebook and a few pens and pencils
• His camera that is always on his person due to his love for taking photos and having a passion for photography.

Character Summary and Crest

It's ironic that Wesley Alexander Cross becomes the digidestined to represent friendship when making friends is incredibly difficult for him. Despite this, there was one person who knew him the most.

Growing up in upper class London in a family that had wealth but also prestige, it was hard for Wesley to feel like he was recognized, but there was nobody who made him feel valid in a family where only the oldest mattered and who also saw him as someone who could do great things. This person was his older brother of three years, Sylvester. Sure, he had other siblings but they were younger. Sylvester was the one who he looked up to most. To his parents, Sylvester was the apple of their eye, the one who Simon and Yvonne could place all of their hopes and dreams on. Sylvester always encouraged Wesley to follow his passions, which always centered around photography. First with polaroids, which his brother gave him for his ninth birthday, and eventually giving him his first "professional" camera that the pros use.

Sylvester was his best friend and his hero.

So when Sylvester was taken from them suddenly, by an illness of unknown origin just three days shy of Wesley's eleventh birthday. It rocked the Cross family to its core, felt not only by his parents but his younger brother and sister, Benjamin and Cassandra. The biggest change of all, however, was not the emptiness that his passing left in their home, but Wesley becoming the focus of his parents expectations. Perhaps it was their way of coping with Sylvester's death, but it didn't change anything. Simon tossed him straight into the pit of more work than fun and Wesley's confidence was practically eliminated. He became something of an empty shell who didn't speak unless spoken to and became a well-mannered, almost timid boy, doing what his parents told him to (mainly his father). His mother gave him some leeway.

Thus why he was at summer camp. His mother persuaded his father to allow him to experience some fun, claiming balance was good for him or something. The only way he'd allow it, however, was if they temporarily relocated to Salt Lake City, which was roughly an hour away.

So, Wesley has that cloud looming over him.

Digimon Partner

Pururumon → Poromon → Hawkmon → Aquilamon → Silphymon → Valkyrimon

At his Digicore, Hawkmon represents everything that Wesley could be: confident, able to speak up without being addressed, and sure of himself. But they also share a certain genuine compassion for those close to them. Hawkmon is an assuring bird-type Digimon who always makes calculated decisions based on what's best in the given situation. That being said, he is also fiercely protective over those closest to him and if they are in danger, regardless of the size of said danger, he will do everything in his power to defend them from it - which sometimes can lead to a sliver of impulses taking over.

that's so meta || character storage thread

Jackson Drake || Heed the Call

"If you don't have an injury or two, you haven't truly lived!"

_{Jax/Jackson || 14 || Male}

Appearance Details

• 5'4"
• 120lbs
• Chestnut-colored hair || Spiky and usually a mess
• Amber-colored eyes
• A typical Jackson Drake outfit usually contains the following:
  
  • A hooded sweatshirt of some sort.
    
    • Sometimes with a single-colored t-shirt over it.
  • Blue jeans/pants or shorts
  • A camouflage headband that keeps his hair out of his face (a pet peeve of his)
  • Vans sneakers. Always.

Belongings

• Skateboard
• Backpack with some snacks and a few cans of dew
• Handheld camcorder to record him doing sick tricks on his board

Character Summary and Crest

Jackson Torvald Drake (yes that's his full name) has always been one to put one foot in front of the other, always one to not shy away from taking on things that would otherwise be deemed dangerous. And maybe that's why he embodies courage, because not showing any fear to new experiences has always been a part of who he is, as well as his upbringing.

Originally from Ridgewood, Utah, Jackson grew up in a fairly normal household. His father, John, is a mechanic and his mother Riley a waitress at the local diner. Understandably so, he never knew what it was like to come from a broken home. He grew up very close to his parents and they often were very supportive of his aspirations to become a professional skater. His father even bought him his first skateboard, to which he started at a very young age. It became his main focus and in his mind, that meant taking risks with tricks, setting up shots with his camcorder, and filming himself skating through places he might get into trouble for.

If Torvald wasn't his middle name, then having no fear certainly would be.

And that's just always been the kind of boy Jackson was. He never showed any fear because he didn't know what it was and still doesn't. He doesn't care what people think because he's never been genuinely hurt or heartbroken.

Digimon Partner

Sunamon → Goromon → Gotsumon → Golemon → Gogmamon → Blastmon

At his core, Gotsumon is a mischievous, cheerful-ish rock mon. He is often the first one to want to investigate a dangerous location and will more than likely do all that he can to get others to come with him. Much like his partner, though he means well, Gotsumon makes problems worse or causes them more frequently than he does in the effort to solve them. And like Jackson, Gotsumon is quick to anger and will always use his head in the literal sense. This, apparently, makes him the perfect Digimon partner for Jackson Drake.

that's so meta || character storage thread

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______________________________________	"The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Damien Blake, Prince of the Underworld || New Blood Rises

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___________________________________ N A M E Damien Moses Blake A G E November 9th, 18 G E N D E R Cismale S E X U A L I T Y Pansexual P L A C E O F O R I G I N [London, England N A T I O N A L I T Y British-American E T H N I C I T Y English and Greek ___________________________________ A P P E R A N C E Height: 6’0” Weight: 170lbs Hair: Naturally blonde with dark roots Eyes: Sapphire blue Body Type: Lean and toned || Damien works out and keeps on top of his training. Body Marks: In addition to the runes etched into his skin that is a visible reminder of his legacy, Damien also has a few tattoos: a skull on his left shoulder, a snake coiling around a sword, and the words “Fuck Hades” on his fingers (one letter per finger minus the left thumb). ___________________________________ R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S Single for now F A M I L Y Mother Amelia Blake — Mother (Alive) Father Hades (King of the Underworld & Lord of the Dead) Siblings Erin Maree Chase (Older Half-Sister) Nico Di Angelo (Older Half-Brother; Camp Alum) Bianca Di Angelo (Older Half-Sister; Camp Alum) Hazel Levesque (Older Half-Sister; Camp Alum) Stepmother Persephone (Goddess of Vegetation) L E G A C Y Hecate (Goddess of boundaries, crossroads, witchcraft, and ghosts) P E T S Onyx, a black ceberus who has the visage of a black pit.. Damien always felt a certain pull towards those given bad reps and pitbulls are probably the most misunderstood of all dog breeds. || "A loyal partner-in-crime. He won't attack you if he doesn't perceive you as a threat to me. And he only attacks on my command." ___________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________ L I K E S ✔ His mother, stepmother, and legacy-mother. Let's just say, while Damien can't stand his father, the three women in his life mean the world to me. ✔ Anything rock and roll. This could range from the music, to bands, to lifestyle, to even the fashion. ✔ The original Coc-a-Cola. Yes, that means the one with a bit of cocaine in it. D I S L I K E S ✘ Hades - as if this needs any explanation. Damien hates his father with a passion. ✘ Excessively positive people. Not that he dislikes them personally, but too much positivity gives him indigestion. ✘ Mainstream pop music. Yes, he's aware this makes him a hipster. Yes, he's aware that it's popular for a reason. Still doesn't change the fact he can't stand the overproduced garbage. ✘ Church and most religions other than the religion of worshipping rock and roll. This has less to do with him being the son of the Greek Satan and more to do with his athetist-esque beliefs, which he is aware is ironic considering he's a demigod. ____________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y Honest → Selectively compassionate → loyal →moderately antisocial → volatile (in good ways and bad) → spiteful → holds grudges Damien isn't one to always be forthright with how he really feels but he also isn't afraid to speak his mind should he feel the need to. He's pretty unpredictable in that way. Another fact about him is his tendency to hold onto grudges from years past. See, loyalty and trust has always been a rare thing for him. You can blame it on his father if you want (he sure as hell will), but he's been wronged so many times that Damien just doesn't have it in him to outright trust someone. But, if you can somehow manage to prove to him you're worthy of his trust, he'll give you loyalty in return. Break it and you'll find out just how much of his father's petty he really inherited. As a lover, Damien is somewhere between a passionate romance to someone who will make your exes jealous. And he doesn't mind being that for people. He's never been too picky when it came to whoever he boned. Honestly, he's never had a monogamous relationship in his life. Granted he's only 18, but the fact remains. He might be Hades' son, but one might venture a guess as to how much like Zeus he really is. Eh, probably too much if he gets around as much as he does. ____________________________________________________________________________ B I O G R A P H Y Balance is the key to everything in the universe. For every action, there’s an opposite and equal reaction, right? For every good thing you do, it is often followed by a mistake of equal proportion. And just like that, for every Erin Chase, whose relationship with Hades, while not ideal, was decent, there is a Damien Blake, someone whose thoughts about Hades border on homicidal. And that’s on a good day. Damien’s contempt for Hades exceeds as far away from it centering around the King of the Underworld being an absentee father. Damien accepted long ago that Hades wasn’t going to be in his life in any traditional sense. He wouldn’t wake up to the smell of pancakes and his father reading the paper. He wouldn’t experience typical father-son moments like playing catch, talking about girls or why Donald Trump is a moron. Or argue with his father about why the latter supports Boris Johnson. If only it were that simple, right? Growing up in London, Damien always had to fend for himself. His mom, as much as she loved him, couldn’t prepare him for everything. Their neighborhood was one of the many bad ones that were filled to the brim with criminals and drug dealers and all kinds of unsavory types, but his mother Amelia Blake was always his rock. And until a point in his life when he couldn’t rely on her, she was the person who gave him the strength to be strong. The person who he knew would always make his bad days okay again. No matter what happened, Damien could always rely on her. But unbeknownst to him, Amelia had made a literal deal with the devil. But this devil wasn’t Lucifer Morningstar or even the other devil-like figures in the various mythologies. This devil was sly, handsome, and a real charmer (his mother’s words, obviously). But he was also a bitter, scarred bastard and forced Amelia into a deal: in exchange for allowing Damien to know his humane side, Amelia could raise Damien for a full decade. From birth to his tenth birthday, he was going to live with her, but after his tenth birthday, the clock ran out and he would be whisked away from her and live in the underworld with Hades, his father. This is why Damien hates his father. He stole him away from the only parent he ever gave a damn about. It didn’t matter if life in the underworld was different and objectively amazing (his father’s words), Damien never let up on his anger. From ten until fourteen, he lived in the underworld, but during those times - especially after the first two years - Damien made trouble for Hades. At some point, he imprisoned Damien as a bizarre form of being grounded. The only contact he had was with his stepmother, Persephone and Persephone’s close companion, Hecate. It was Hecate who Damien felt the most drawn to. Maybe it was his natural affinity towards the dark side of things or his anger, but throughout his time in the underworld, which that in itself must have made time go by a lot slower, because his time spent studying under Hecate, learning from her, and generally feeling like he was some kind of adopted child of hers -- okay, maybe he was more like a student -- there was no doubting that he and Hecate shared a bond. After a few years locked away in the underworld, Damien made a daring attempt in escaping. He knew Hades would be mad, but who the fuck cared about him, anyway? With the help of his Legacy, Hecate, she opened up a portal from the Underworld to Long Island, New York. It was the place where Camp Half-Blood was and it was the only place he could go to be truly safe from Hades. And he did. And for nearly four years, he had been at Camp Half-Blood. For nearly four years, Damien Blake has held onto the hatred for his father, vowing one day he would go back to the underworld and kill his father. And maybe, one day, take over the underworld for himself. Maybe it was a big dream, but someone had to do it, right? ____________________________________________________________________________ D E M I G O D I N F O C A B I N Cabin 13, Hades (King of the Underworld) Y E A R S AT C A M P Technically, three and a half since he arrived on his fourteenth birthday, but the official record states it’s been four. F A T A L F L A W Holding onto grudges and his temper (when it comes to certain individuals). R E S P O N S A B I L I T I E S W E A P O N S • Shadowhunter - two short swords imbued with magical runes (gifted to him by Hecate). The runes themselves enhance sharpness and accuracy, but mostly against mythological creatures that threaten Damien's safety. • Unnamed - A set of eight throwing knives that were forged at the Camp Half-Blood forge upon his request for ranged weapons. A B I L I T I E S Damien's abilities include: Necromancy, Umbrakinesis, Limited Pyrokinesis, and Rune Spellcraft Detailed Explanation of Damien's Abilties Necromancy: Due to being the son of Hades, which he may hate more than anything in the world, Damien cannot deny his powers, especially that of the dead. Like his siblings before him, Damien has a certain control over the dead such as reviving them, speaking with them, commanding skeletons to fight for him, or in his case, serve as his training dummies. Most of the dead souls and skeletons that Damien chooses to focus on are those who were warriors in their past lives. Since it's more than likely that he couldn't properly train against those who still live, Damien much prefers it this way. Making my Monster Grow!: Damien has the ability to raise dead souls (to an extent). And though he may be able to raise all sorts of souls of the deceased, his preference has always been those who were warriors in their past lives. And he, of course, can only revive a limited number, but since they do tend to serve a singular purpose, the amount of time they linger about is, of course, limited in a sense. I hear dead people: Damien has always had a somewhat unorthodox relationship with the dead. Due to this, his ability to hear them almost at any time he desired to, Damien could strike up conversations with the souls of the dead that might be in the process of crossing the Styx River or have been recently deceased. Though possible, talking to the dead across dimensions (i.e. those in the Underworld), does take just a little of added effort on his end. Nevertheless, there is something to be noted of his affiliation for the ghastly and strange. Umbrakinesis: As a child of Hades, Damien's affinity for darkness is apparent, he can control the darkness in most facets that are available to him. He can use it to travel in the shadows, bend it to cover his skin a protective layer of "shadow skin", as well as use it offensively in the forms of tendrils and bolts of darkness. Shredding Boundaries, man!: Damien's ability with the shared shadow travel his siblings have might be different than theirs. Of course, they all share the same principles, which is using their connection to the underworld and their father to travel using the shadows, but in Damien's case, his is more of a strategic usage. Since he himself, at his core, is a warrior. As such, not only does using it not tire him out as it would others who can use this ability, he does not use it to travel great distances but rather a few feet, though using it in rapid succession (more than 5 times in less than thirty seconds) would have the same effect on him as it would those who use it to travel across state lines. This is because he is also actively using other abilities in battle, so there is also that to consider. Shrouded in Darkness: Manipulation of darkness takes another form for Damien as he can wrap himself in the shadows that cover either parts of his body or its entirety depending on what he desires. It acts as a second layer or slightly harder skin that, to its touch, is like a smooth surface but can withstand multiple blows from steel. But as great as it is, if partially donned, then his other umbrakinesis-related abilities will be weakened equal to how much of his body is covered. If he choses to give all to his defense, then he won't be able to use any of his other umbrakinesis abilities. And donning it completely will gradually drain him over time. Spikes and other Things: Offensively, Damien can manipulate and generate darkness into tendrils that come from the ground with the intent to impale his desired target. And likewise, he can create bolts of dark energy that look like a blackened version of Zeus' lightning bolt and it may seem like that too, but when it hits, it's just condensed, dark energy that has high concussive force behind it. And depending on how much focus he puts into it, they will either have the power of a soft punch or that of a wrecking ball. Of course, both come with their drawbacks: weaker bolts and tendrils will be able to be used several times over until he is drained while those with the potnetial for higher damage output would drain him severely. Limited Pyrokinesis: Being the son of Hades makes his ability to create and manipulate hellfire a given, but Damien is not, as one might put it, a pyromaniac. As such, he is not so skilled in it. He can create fireballs and fire bolts, but as for the more complicated abilities, he does not have an inkling of potential there. Spellcraft: Call it a gift from the goddess that may have taken something of a special interest in Damien. Hecate imbued him with the knowledge of spellcraft, which he took and built upon it, focusing on offensive and battle-centric runes. Whether they are the battle runes that were engraved on his body (generally ones that enhance physical capabilities and accuracy), or on his Shadowhunter blades, Damien would consider himself very adept when it comes to general spellcasting. And one might even find that he's extremely grateful to Hecate for it, as he uses it frequently in battle. ____________________________________________________________________________ O T H E R Damien is an avid rocker, for which he isn't shy about announcing. He will obnoxiously play his favorite bands as loud as he can in his room. He has a particular fondness for thrash, punk, and any anti-authority/religion songs and bands. He's particularly fond of Slayer and Anti-Flag, as well as Black Veil Brides, Bullet For My Valentine, and Nevermore Damien is kind of a sore winner and loser, especially when it comes to sparring/training sessions. When he wins, he rubs it in the faces of those he beat. When he loses, he holds a grudge and is extremely petty, almost to the point of being a bit too aggressive in the rematch. Despite being part of the Hades Cabin, Damien feels more at home at the Hecate cabin, as well as occasionally enjoying the views the Aphrodite Cabin provides. Damien is always up for unsanctioned fights, which may or may not be why he goes seeking fights anywhere he can find them. T H E M E S O N G Temper Temper Face Claim • Jamie Campbell Bower || Dialogue Color • #6699cc

that's so meta || character storage thread

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______________________________________	"If you need to ask yourself if you should be worried, remember: the calm comes before the rage."

Astrid Larsen, Daughter of Khione || New Blood Rises

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___________________________________ N A M E Astrid Livanna Larsen Ice Queen - She’s got a bit of a rep A G E June 21st, 18 G E N D E R Cis Female S E X U A L I T Y Bisexual - no lean and always looking ;) P L A C E O F O R I G I N Valley of Odin, Norway N A T I O N A L I T Y Norwegian E T H N I C I T Y Norweigian, Greek (from her mother) ___________________________________ A P P E R A N C E Height: 5'6" Weight: 125lbs Hair: Shoulder-length, light brown hair || Silver when Form is Activated with a whistling, smoky, icy aura Eyes: Dark brown || Icy Blue when Form is activated, looks like a crystallized sapphire stone Body Type: Slim, yet toned; has a firm, decent bust and a tight booty that's firm to the touch due to all those hours of training. Body Marks: Ears pierced, a scar along the left side of her neck from a rough training session. || Has The Sigil of Vidar tattooed on her neck. ___________________________________ R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S Astrid is single and isn't sure if she's looking or not. F A M I L Y Father: Aaren Larsen Mother: Khione, Goddess of Ice and Snow Sister: Issura Larsen (twin sister) L E G A C Y Vidar, Norse God of Vengeance P E T S Astrid doesn't do pets, but she is known to be quite friendly with her sister's wolf. With the exception of Issie, Lumi is the only one who is able to bring out Astrid's softer, compassionate side. ___________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________ L I K E S ✔ Her sister - Astrid will kill for Issie. It's not an overexaggeration, either. She will bring down the fury of Khione and Boreas down on anyone who hurts her. ✔ Anything to do with winter; not so much because she likes snow angels or Christmas (she does but that's not the point). It's more to do with her feeling her most powerful during the coldest season. ✔ Christmas - something she shares with Issie. She might not go caroling (unless Issie begged her), but she will sure as shit rock out to the classics while drinking egg nog ✔ Violent video games and/or the implication of violence - fun fact! When she was injured, Astrid found out that she not only has a love for gory video games, but she gets a certain thrill from it. ...she might be a little unhinged ✔ Shaved ice - it helps that she can have it any time she wants hehe ✔ Training and/or working out - what can she say? She's a fitness buff. ✔ Getting absolutely shit-faced and making mistakes she might not be able to remember D I S L I K E S ✘ Hot seasons. She absolutely hates it with a passion because not only are they too hot, she doesn't particularly feel like she's her strongest ✘ Those unbearable children of Hephaestus. Nothing against them personally, but Astrid would much rather suffer through absolute zero temperatures than have to be around those fire-breathing dragons. ✘ Any pepper hotter than chipotle ✘ Anyone who hurts Issie or who she generally perceives as a threat to Issie ✘ Losing in any competition and it doesn't matter who beats her ✘ Pudding of all kinds. ____________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y Protective → Confident → Uniquely Energetic → Focused → Unpredictable → Cold → Competitive → Confrontational Cold and otherwise intimidating, Astrid is the more aggressive Larsen twin. While she is absolutely capable of being kind and compassionate, she can also be very unforgiving, especially if you have wronged her in the pas, but especially if she has ever gotten the sense you hurt Issura in any way. Astrid's loyalty is similar to the Viking CLan she grew up in: she looks out for those she considers her own, or those who she considers to be worthy of her undying loyalty. It takes a lot to earn her trust because she doesn't let many in. You can chalk this off to her obviously personable self, but the truth is she's just very...protective. Take that with what you will. The truth is, between how she was raised and the influence her legacy, Vidar, has on her, Astrid has a sometimes twisted way of thinking and feeling. She's often been unforgiving when it comes to the slightest of inconveniences to her. Comments about her can be taken at face value and she might leave it alone, but then she might sit on it several days later and might go up to that same person and hit them in the face. Or she might kiss them. Or blast them with the fury of a Norwegian winter blizzard. Astrid has a very competitive spirt, too. If she knows she wins and loses fair and square, she'll leave it alone. But she suspects even an ounce of foul play, then run for the hills, because a nasty, petty side in Astrid comes out and it almost always ends up with violence, but in the cold, frosty way one might expect from a daughter of Khione, not in the Brandon son of Ares way. ____________________________________________________________________________ B I O G R A P H Y To be written ____________________________________________________________________________ D E M I G O D I N F O C A B I N Cabin Twenty-Two - Khione, Greek Goddess of Ice and Snow Y E A R S AT C A M P 3 and 1/2 F A T A L F L A W Unpredictablity and holds a grudge like a motherfucker. R E S P O N S A B I L I T I E S Ideally? Not a damn thing, but she's likely going to be some idiot's mentor or some shit like that, isn't she? W E A P O N S -Twin, one-handed axes -Leather armor || Dyed dark blue and silver with the silver being sowed down the middle in the form of an iron cross. It was gifted to her by her mother. -Claw Gauntlets || Crafted from a special iron ore found only in Asgard. The iron claws/blades retract when her rage is at its peak. Otherwise, they take the form of silver, iron bracelets worn on both of her wrists. It was gifted to her by her Legacy, Vidar. A B I L I T I E S From Khione: Cyrokinesis, Aerokinesis, Cyro-Aerokinesis, Heat Sensitivity, and Divine Form From Vidar: Partial Berserker's Rage - When her temper gets out of control, in a combo of demigod feats and a desire to avenge herself or others, Astrid will a semi-blinding rage. She is aware of what she is doing and is subject to some form of calming down, but she will be quick to anger and will attack first -- at least, more than she usually does. It only occurs when she feels truly wronged beyond reproach. ____________________________________________________________________________ O T H E R Speaks fluent Greek, Old Nordic, and French -- of which are results of her upbringing and what is in her DNA. Is on about 6 different medications Adderall and Ritalin for ADHD Risperidone, Quetiapine, and Clozapine for general psychotic tendencies Lithium for general mood-related disorders - like her rage Has a secret love for games of all kinds: video, board, and D&D Theme Song: Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez || Face Claim: Danielle Panabaker | #9966cc/Amethyst

that's so meta || character storage thread

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______________________________________	"The only thing that will make you happy is being happy with who you are." —Goldie Hahn

Vivian Lucasta, Sunshine Princess || New Blood Rises

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___________________________________ N A M E Vivian Diana Lucasta A G E 18, August 11th G E N D E R Cisfemale S E X U A L I T Y Bisexual P L A C E O F O R I G I N Santa Monica, California N A T I O N A L I T Y American E T H N I C I T Y Swedish, English-Irish, Greek ___________________________________ A P P E R A N C E Height: 5'" Weight: 121lbs Hair: Naturally blonde with dark roots Eyes: Blue Body Type: Slim curvy || Vivian has what most would call an imperfect hourglass figure. Body Marks: N/A ___________________________________ R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S Hoplessly single and hopelessly hoping for it to end. Crushes: ∞ Every member of the ever-growing Defined Jawline™ Club F A M I L Y Mother Lillian Lucasta (Alive) Father Apollo (God of oracles, healing, archery, music and arts, sunlight, knowledge, herds and flocks, and protection of the young) Siblings Kalinda Franklins (Older Half-Sister) Fiamma Catoriona Giannulli (Younger Half-Sister) Lucas Aerin Cresswell (Younger Half-Brother;) L E G A C Y Helios (God of the Sun) P E T S Hope, an adorable golden retriever who is most certainly a good girl. || "She’s just the best! I love her to death!." ___________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________ L I K E S ✔ THE SUN and summer, too! ✔ Blueberry anything: muffins, cookies, pancakes, waffles, smoothies -- you name it. ✔ The beach, or generally just being out in the sunshine. ✔ Music and the arts ✔ Competition. Vivian might be easily dissuaded but there’s something exciting about the games at Camp like the tower and everything else. ✔ Helping others ✔ Reality television ✔ Going for long walks on the beach, or just long walks in nature if the beach isn't available/nearby D I S L I K E S ✘ Snakes. Due to the curse laid upon her and her half-siblings, Vivian has a very intense dislike - and in some cases, fear - of snakes. ✘ Freezing weather. She loves being out in the sunlight, so the lack of it makes her hate the winter ✘ Mainstream pop music. Yes, he's aware this makes him a hipster. Yes, he's aware that it's popular for a reason. Still doesn't change the fact he can't stand the overproduced garbage. ✘ Her insecurities, but specifically the lack of an innate confidence and how quickly she doubts herself. ✘ Bad vibes. Vivian is always so happy and she just hates it when there's negativity around her, or directed at her, or anywhere near her ✘ Not so much a dislike but a worry about children of Hecate due to their potential of curses. Vivian hates to even think about it, but the idea of curses -- such as the one cast upon her and her siblings. She just doesn't trust them in that regard. ✘ Peanuts. Not that she's allergic, but she just never has enjoyed the taste. ✘ Aggressive rock music. Vivian will take Bastille and Death Cab over Metallica and Slayer anyday. ____________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y Bubbily ☼ Energetic ☼ Overtly Positive ☼ Easy to Please ☼ Friendly ☼ Lovable ☼ Carefree ☼ Overworries ☼ Prone to opinions about her ☼ Insecure to a degree ☼ Often forgetful ☼ Easily discouraged Vivian embodies just about everything you or anyone could possibly imagine or want from a Daughter of the Greek God of Sun, Music, and Art. She embodies a liveliness that is infectious. Her smile and her laugh, the way she carries herself and how always - always - Vivian Lucasta can both make herself the life and center of the party (or any group/crowd for that matter) and not appear to be as though she wanted is both something that speaks to her character and how she never actively seeks attention. She also will never talk negatively about anyone or anything. A good girl to her core, Vivian believes there is good in just about anyone she meets. It doesn’t matter if they have been known to do bad things to people she has known to love or if they thought about doing these horrible things. Through it all, VIvian has been brought up to see the good in everyone and she continues to see the good in people now. While Vivian is certainly the kind of person who will show an overly-positive demeanor with an engaging, lovable, and often abrasive niceness, she isn’t without some easily-influenceable aspects to her overall being. Particularly, Vivian has a lot of insecurities about how she can be perceived and most importantly, this happy-go-lucky valley girl is one of the easiest people to discourage and influence. Because she is so naive and so absolutely ignorant to a lot of things, to get her to see that one person might be good even when they are not is almost comical in how she will never see the truth coming. And even then, Vivian’s still pretty clueless and doesn’t know if so and so was actually a horrible person or not. That part of her brain has been wired to only see the light, never the darkness. It’s both a blessing and a curse. There also seems to be a bit of an inner-airhead when it comes to the Daughter of Apollo. It’s not that she doesn’t have a brain or any sign of intelligence up in her noggin, but because she is easily influenced by anyone who would dare want to use her in such horrible ways, she is also quite forgetful. She doesn’t forget names or faces or anything like that, but some important information like tests, where she was told to meet people - or hell, even something so short term as for where the gym is can slip her mind. But she does it all in such a cute way that people just laugh it off. But if there’s one person who’ll always give her crap about this particular aspect about her. ____________________________________________________________________________ B I O G R A P H Y Love is often hard to come by, especially in a world where it’s highly cynical of the concept of love, as well as the genuine concern that someone who shows even a little attention wants something in return. And, usually that is the case, but it wasn’t the case for Lillian Lucasta. She was - and still is - a simple girl (well now woman) who was just twenty-one when she met the man of her dreams. For so long, she had the image of this man in her mind. Ever since she could think of the perfect man who could sweep her off her feet and make her feel truly special, the moment she met Apollo, the Greek God of the Sun and Music, proved to her that her dream guy didn’t even come close to him. The sweet smile he always gave her when she laughed and the way he made her feel every time they kissed and how he touched her. Their time together was short, but it wasn’t the first time that Apollo graced Lillian with his presence. He showed up when she was giving birth to their daughter and he came back every three years. Apollo, though he was a god, tried to be involved in his daughter’s life as often as he could. And though it was hard for Lillian because Apollo ruined other guys for her and she couldn’t really love any other man. Still, there was no doubt in her mind that the fact her daughter had a relationship with him was more than enough to quell her heartbreak. And it was for Vivian that knowing her father that shaped the girl into the kind of person she is now. Every three years, for a month, her father was around. Even when he wasn’t around physically, Apollo was there for her in other ways, too. Whenever she needed someone to talk to in her dreams, he was there. If she just needed to hear his voice, he’d talk to her in her mind. Vivian never cared that her father was a Greek God or whatever. She had grown up knowing that, but that didn’t matter. To her, he was her father - the light of her life and she was the light of his. Complicated or not, Apollo and his daughter Vivian have a relationship that is rare among the Godly Parents and their half-mortal children. The fact that Vivian knew about her Godly parentage early on made the moments that led up to her godly abilities manifest not all too surprising. The only thing that caught the chipper girl by surprise was around the time she turned sixteen that she was given the biggest blow to her life thus far when Apollo and her mother sat her down and said that she was going to be shipped off to a special place in New York called Camp Half-Blood. Confusion set in, but after a few more times, she understood. It was a place for others like her who had a god or goddess for a parent and this place protected them as they learned how to harness their new-found abilities. ____________________________________________________________________________ D E M I G O D I N F O C A B I N Cabin 7, Apollo (God of oracles, healing, archery, music and arts, sunlight, knowledge, herds and flocks, and protection of the young) Y E A R S AT C A M P The current year will be her second year at camp. F A T A L F L A W Vivian’s fatal flaw is how she lacks self-confidence and confidence in her own abilities and worth as a quest team member. R E S P O N S A B I L I T I E S Camper and occasional healer F O R M When at her strongest -- which is always in the afternoon -- Vivian’s body takes up a faint, golden glow. Her irises shine gold and white, her hair becomes more golden than it is, what would normally only be partial in regards to her powers, they become complete for a limited time. This form can only be possible during the summer, though, due to the sun being its hottest. It’s only triggered by extreme distress and/or a desperate need to protect. W E A P O N S Vivian has a shortsword named Aphelios, named for Vivian’s legacy. It was one of the first things gifted to her by her father via a vision sent to her by Apollo after she arrived at Camp Half-Blood. It is a shortsword with an elaborate and luxurious design whose hilt is encrusted with solid gold and rubies scattered throughout. The handguard is that of golden hawk wings, and the blade is a solid gold-like steel. In its hidden form, Aphelios takes the form of a similarly-designed pen, much like Percy Jackson’s weapon, but it is gold with a red thrust device A B I L I T I E S Vivian’s abilities include: Photokinesis, Vitakinesis, and partial precognition Detailed Explanation of Vivian’s Abilties ۞ Light of My Life — Partial Photokinesis ۞ As a daughter of Apollo, Vivian is able to produce and manipulate a magnificent light drawn from the sun itself. It can take many forms, shapes, and, of course, has used in both offensive and defensive, both of which Viv neither lacks nor specializes in one or the other. It reacts in accordance to her emotions. In that, when she has the sudden urge to protect, it will shine so brightly to the point of blinding those her heart may deem a threat to her or whoever has the benefit of being behind her. Alternatively, in the rare instance that Vivian may act - oh, let’s say hostile - towards an individual or a group of individuals, the light will not show mercy. It will continue until the enemy is dealt with accordingly. A blast upon blast, waves of immeasurable force, and a thinly-veiled aura enhancing her demigodly capabilities just to ensure the desire of Vivian's heart is accomplished. ۞ Listen to Me - Vitakinesis ۞ Vivian wouldn’t consider a master healer by any right. She knows her limits and can’t do much past minor wounds, but something she can do is let the sound of her quote-unquote “angelic” voice soothe those who hear it and they will find that a cut they’ve received from a fight or even a partially-broken bone will be completely healed in minutes. The thing about her healing abilities is, yes it is very much in early stages of development, but Vivian’s own insecurities sometimes doesn’t allow for her to have complete-optimization of her potential. ۞ I Can See the Light - Partial Precognition ۞ Like her father, Vivian can see into the future, but it is one, very inconsistent and two, never shows her more than a few seconds of a certain event. Her vision comes in the form of literal flashes of light and almost unprompted. She can be walking and she’ll get a blacking-out-like experience as she sees events of an event in the future for a maximum of five seconds. It could be from one day or a year at the time of getting them. Or it could be a few seconds. After she gets her visions, the knowledge is troubling and confusing, but Vivian gets plagued with headaches that only seem to go away when she sunbathes ____________________________________________________________________________ O T H E R As a lover of food (she adoreadoresadores blueberries and everything to do with them), Vivian can always be seen with others who enjoy cooking too (aka those amazing Children of Demeter). Or generally anyone who likes food. Whether it's listening to easy listening music or playing it, Vivian is all about music in every sense. Like, come on she's the daughter of Apollo. How could she not? Long, relaxing, destressing walks is Viv's aesthetic. Bonus points if it's with someone cute! Sundresses in the summer and late spring (and occasionally in autumn) is Viv's only choice of outfits. Defined jawlines make her swoon T H E M E S O N G Happy by Pharrel Face Claim • Lili Reinhart || Dialogue Color • Goldenrod/#daa520

Edenridge

_{An @Aces Away, @LovelyComplex, & @metanoia Collaboration
Featuring The Lost Trio, once a loved quartet, with the littlest warrior beside them}

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Decky stared up at the ceiling of Beau's garage from in between Jade and Poppy, his heart and mind still in turmoil. Somehow though, he felt an odd calm falling over him the longer he heard Jade's even breaths, felt her chest expanding telling him she was still here. All he could think about was that the last person he trusted that held a gun on him was Charlie, and while ReyRey had waved his gun around Decky before, it had never been pointed at him. ReyRey's words had been echoing in his head all night and that mixed with the older man's actions had had Decky practically mute the whole walk to Beau's. But now he was with his girls. Well, his Southie girls, because he actually had others to think about now too. With that in mind, he sent off a quick text before he twisted his head a bit to look down at Poppy on his right and saw that she was still awake despite her silence. He wanted to talk about Hard Times but at the same time...he might not even be able to. He still couldn't even say his damn name out loud. He gave himself another second to reply to his text from Allegra before turning his attention to her and garnering the will to speak.

____________________________________________________________________

To: Bambi With a Gun
12:19AM

Hey…
I need to see you guys.
Can we do a vid call soon?

From: Bambi With a Gun
12:21AM

Of course, we'll call in the morning. but for now get your rest.
Nochada Buena.

To: Bambi With a Gun
12:21AM

A Gute Nakht

____________________________________________________________________

"Pops?" Decky asked quietly, almost afraid to break the silence. "Do you wanna...meet my friend and kids tomorrow? I don't think," he bit his lip, once again feeling selfish for asking for his friends by his side when he hadn't done the same after the shooting. He'd just taken off. But...he really couldn't do this alone, and Chaim looks just like Danny did as a baby so maybe it would make Poppy feel a little better too. Every time he looked at the boy it was like he had gotten a bit of his baby brother back. Maybe she needed that too. "I don't think I can explain this alone."

At first, Penelope did not respond. Her body was slightly turned away from Decky, not intentionally, but because she was stuck in her own imagination. Completely and utterly exhausted, yet unable to sleep, her mind wrestled with the good times she and her friends shared in this room. She was staring in the darkness at a memory of Charlie reading a book in one of the fold up chairs that surrounded a small game table. The place where Decky taught her how to gamble for the first time. The place where they played that stupid oreo challenge. The place they had both philosophical conversations and intense arguments. The place where they were happier. When everything was simple. The place where they could be a family together.

While the image of Charlie’s ghost ate at her on the inside, she gradually registered Decky’s words, only delayed by a few seconds.Turning her frame fully toward him, resting her hand on his chest, she lifted her head slightly to peer down at him.“Your kids?” she wordlessly said back.

There wasn’t much light to show Decky’s features, but she could make out where his eyes were and his lips. It felt like only yesterday when she found out Decky had left town without a word and yet, all that, all that pain and shock she went through, didn’t matter. Penelope could feel how thin he had gotten. She had noticed fresh track marks on his arms when he gave his jacket as a gesture of comfort. She could hear in his voice how much he needed her. This was such a bittersweet feeling. Charlie's letters brought them back together, all grown up and more damaged than before.

Trailing her hand up, she rested it on his cheek and whispered, “You won’t be alone.” After a calming, deliberate break, she continued, “I would love to meet them, Decky.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, throat closing around his next words. Poppy was the first one to use that name on him after ReyRey. He hadn't heard that name for almost two whole years, having severed ties with it when he left. Sure, the nickname was used by damn near everyone close to him that wasn't a Serpent, but it had always been the nickname Danny gave him, and to be hearing it- knowing it would never leave his little brother's lips again, knowing it was the last thing to tumble from his mouth before Charlie shot him- it was torture. He may feel like he's reverting to Decky, but he'd long since buried him.

"M-Mordechai, j-just call me Mordechai, please," he stuttered out after finally releasing his breath. He wrapped his arm around Poppy and hugged her close to his side. "Only the baby is actually mine, but Legs' daughter started callin' me papa so it stuck." He let a small smile come over his face as he thought of his own little family. He looked down at Poppy as she nestled down into his chest, head rising and falling a bit as he breathed. "Thank you, Pops."

He let his head fall back onto the pillow, letting his eyes slip closed as he finally relaxed.

Instead of responding, Penelope kept quiet contemplating his request to call him a name he used to never like being called. Clearly, times had changed and none of them could go back. She knew that… she knew they could never go back… she knew she needed to let go… but she didn’t want to. The moment she let go would be the moment Charlie disappeared and that feeling she couldn’t bear. She couldn’t bear losing him again. Even if right now he was only a memory, she wanted to cling to it for dear life. That’s all she had left of him and she just wanted it to stay.

She wanted him to stay.

Finding Jade’s hand in the dark, resting her hand on top of it, Poppy’s breathing steadied. “Don’t thank me…” Her words were inaudible at this point, and could hardly be heard, especially to the barely conscious. “... I didn’t do anything.”

Jade lightly tightened Poppy’s hand.”Being here isn’t nothing.” She’d say in a low voice. The kind of low voice that gave the impression she was too mentally drained to speak any louder. As she mustered all the strength she could, Jade turned her head to the right, looking at both of them. “And you don’t need to thank her.”

“Jade… I’m pretty sure Mordechai passed out.” Poppy didn’t realize Jade was even up and wondered how much of the conversation she heard. Did she hear how the nickname Decky stings for their friend? Did she hear he had a child? Did she hear the tone of Poppy’s voice and how something as simple as ‘I didn’t do anything’ had layers of meaning? Like how she couldn’t save any of her southie family.

Instead of saving them, Penelope watched them embrace their demons or worse, go straight to the grave. Maxine. Danny Boaz. Charlie. She was useless and tonight confirmed how little she did for anyone she loved. All she wanted was to be with Charlie and still to this day, all she could think about was him. What was wrong with her?

Burying her face in Decky’s chest, Penelope squeezed Jade’s hand and pathetically whimpered for Jade’s ears only, “I miss him.”

Those words echoed into her head like a gentle whisper that brought a soothing calmness to the storm raging inside. The blonde terror didn’t look at her sister and she didn’t turn her head, yet words slipped out so low that the only person who could hear them was the one they were meant for - just four words: “I miss him too.”

Edenridge

_{A @metanoia & @NeoAJ Collaboration || featuring Marco Brady & Jill O’Brien}
____________________________________________________________________________________________________

There was a growing feeling that Marco felt like he truly didn’t belong here. Not only because he was never the “southside” type, especially since it seemed his problems were from a different one than the ones they faced. While he was more focused on making the soccer team and passing his finals, all of those affiliated with the Southside Serpents were trying to survive life across the tracks. People like Jade Taylor were trying not to completely lose it when a wave of unfavorable circumstances came in full steam.

It just didn’t click with him. And part of Marco’s mind wondered just how...well how disconnected he was. Him being here because he wanted to be there for Lanie could only carry him so far until it lost its meaning. Because, sure there were moments during Rey Rey Gonzalez’s story that he found himself thinking about why he really was here. Danny told him he needed to be here because of what happened. That somehow he needed closure about the shooting. Was that the truth? Or did Marco, in some masochistic way, want to punish himself more by diving headfirst into the very thing that stripped him of his dreams?

He just didn’t know.

As he became so dedicated in trying to figure it out by himself, there was a moment when Allison Davies’ photo was shown and Marco immediately brought his blue-eyed gaze to Lanie. In the moments after, she dipped faster than a series of blinks. In five she was out the door and Marco felt the pressure in both the literal sense and emotionally to follow her. It pained him to walk. It was torture putting any unnecessary pressure on his legs. But Marco did it because he wanted to be there for her.

But then when he got out the door and was halfway down the steps, those steps that were...well, a bitch, to walk up, were even worse going down because the bone-crunching pressure put on them with every step was enough to make Marco keel over.

After the third one, he had to take a breather.

As he sat down, he couldn’t say where Lanie was or even what direction she ran off in. The only thing he knew for certain was how much his legs ached and his genuine shock that there were still some cannoli’s left. Truly the longest battle ever since the old Goku vs Frieza on Planet Namek fight. Or any opening/ending cutscene of a Square Enix video game with Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy in its name.

“I wonder what Ma is doing right now,” Marco heard himself say.

He had zoned out for a few minutes, thinking about an alternate reality where he skipped tonight and stayed home like he wanted to. He only registered back into the real world when someone came down the stairs. He did his best to move over that caused him the least amount of pain. As they walked down, it was only a moment that took Marco to realize who it was.

“Jill?” He called out as she was nearly down the entirety of the stairs. “Everything okay?”

It was going to be tough for Jillian to answer that question, given it had been a long time since she had even seen okay to make some sort of comparison.

If she wanted to talk specifically about the events tonight, absolutely not. Between the continued reminder that few people in her orbit during her high school days even cared what happened to her, similar to Allison’s treatment tonight by other members of their traveling party, the mental breakdown in the hallway, the gruesome reminders of what had happened to her idol on the last night of her life, Mei taking a swing at one of the most dangerous men in town and getting carted away by Roddy in the process, and now staring down a long wait in the hopes that Kylee would pick up and be able to give her a ride outta this place, even by recent standards, it seemed like things were not OK.

And she did nothing about it. All that bravado she was spouting at the start of the night had long since evaporated. She couldn’t even bring herself to defend Allison’s honor while that fucking stalker Poppy James kept trying to defend that absolute monster Charlie Decker. There were so many things she wanted to get off her chest, but she couldn’t do it. She wanted to yell at Poppy that Allison had more people that cared about her than Charlie ever would, and that she needed to shut her face. She needed to know how hard it was for those who lost so many people when Charlie took the actions he did. Jillian knew how hard it was to be in that position that Allison was in and what that stress does to your head. She wanted to defend the fallen.

But Jillian couldn’t say the damn words. Someone who had taken the lead in the face of all the adversity in the past couldn’t say a damn thing to anyone. It was like she was swallowed up by the moment. It was sad.

She didn’t even have her empty bottle for comfort anymore. After what happened, she abandoned it with the remains of parties not cleaned up and snuck underage beverages. With Mei tied up, of course no one wanted to check on her. No one gives a damn about fallen queens.

Except Marco, apparently. That he bothered enough to ask got Jill to halt her march off the premises. She rattled a couple of thoughts around in her brain, a couple of responses that would serve to deflect and end the conversation. She had gotten enough practice with her mother in recent months to be an old pro by now.

But there were so many thoughts and emotions in there. The anger at Poppy daring to throw Allison under the rug to glorify a thug who had already taken away so many in her life. The sadness that she couldn’t do anything to go back and change anything about that night, and there was a lot that could do with some changing. The fear dredged up by the trail blazed during the evening.

And the happiness when Mei’s forehead kiss pierced through all that mess for one shining moment.

Maybe it was time some of those thoughts got out of her head. There was no alcohol available to shut them down for the moment, anyway.

“Not really, no,” Jill finally answered after what seemed like an eternity but in reality couldn’t have been more than 10 seconds. She turned around, eyes still bleary from her various outbursts of the evening, and looked over the stoop to see if there was enough room for her to sit without blocking the main exit out of the building.

It looked like there was something closer to the bottom step, so she slowly made her way over and plunked herself down in front of Marco. A weary sigh escaped her lips as she settled on the rotting wood. There was another bit of doubt as to what she was about to engage in. She didn’t know Marco that well anymore. Sure, they were in similar circles given he was an athlete and she was a cheerleader. They were friendly enough at parties that they could share a beverage and not look awkward.

That was a lifetime ago, and Marco arrived with two links to that lifetime that seemed to have no interest in showing any semblance of contrition for their prior crimes. Who was to say he wouldn’t just follow Danny and Lanie’s examples and offer up nothing but scorn and icy indifference?

Maybe Jillian needed a reason to believe this conversation could be different. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try. It couldn’t go any worse than most of the things that happened tonight.

“Tonight has been a lot. In more ways than one.” The slurring that had dominated her speech for the majority of the night seemed to be fading away without any reason to yell and spit. “I knew it was gonna be, and yet, here I am. With no answers, no friends and nowhere to go from here. So I don’t think I’m OK, Marco, if that answers your question.”

Right, so that was a stupid question. Marco should have figured that if Lanie wasn’t handling the Allison thing well, especially with how she darted out of the house not even a moment after her picture was out, Marco should’ve had the awareness to assume that Jill wouldn’t be in a great state about it, either. Yet another reason why he wouldn’t make a great detective like his father. But it wasn’t a total loss. As he sat there, looking at Jill with a slight frown, though most of it was the uncertainty of what to say, some of it faded when Marco realized Jill wasn’t completely right about something she said.

“Well, that’s not exactly true--” In typical Marco Brady fashion, he started with a misleading statement. “--I mean, you said you had no friends, but you have one sitting right in front of you.” He offered her a smile and opened up the box of lonely cannolis in his hands. A few still remained. Well, by a few, there were still about seven left. ”And I can say with confidence that this friend comes bearing gifts!” He lifted up the box. “Go on, take one. You won’t regret it!”

There was a lot of hesitation on Jillian’s part. Cannolis had once been a staple of her diet thanks to her hookup in the Belmonte family. However, she practically swore off them by proxy when she cut Danny out of her life for what he did. She knew they still were coming into the household and that it wasn’t hard to guess the source. She caught Grace scarfing down a not-so-mysteriously sourced cannoli more than once, and that was an image she did not need burned in her mind given why she wasn’t eating them anymore. She looked at the offered dessert and knew they were one in the same to the ones she previously enjoyed. Sure, the dappling on the crust was a little different, a little rougher, but the flecks in the filling indicating the presence of finely chopped almonds was definitely a Belmonte touch. It felt like she was betraying herself for even thinking of taking one of the symbols of what was lost in high school.

But this was a night of going through the past, and there were so many things that couldn’t be saved and couldn’t be brought back to life. Wasn’t it worthwhile to try and grab something that was able to be retrieved? Besides, those Hole in the Wall chicken wings seemed like eons ago.

Jillian finally took one of the offered cannolis in her hand. The lightweight pastry felt like a bowling ball on her palm. Her solution was to quickly take a bite to lessen the load and instantly, the memories came flooding back. The flaky crust, the sweetened cream whipped to perfection, the hint of almonds peeking through. It had been long years without the taste, but right now all it was doing was offering her a reminder of the good times. Long before high school, when things were simpler and the pressure hadn’t gotten to her yet. It was divine. Now the only regret she had in regards to taking Marco up on his offer was turning away all those peace offerings when she could have stayed mad at Danny and still gotten her fill.

Damn it Danny. How could I let you take this away from me…

Savoring the flavors as long as she could, she finally swallowed and looked up at Marco, clearly pleased with himself seeing Jillian go into the Italian specialty. “Well, you were right about at least one thing. Gives you a pretty good chance of being right about the others.” She licked a bit of filling that looked like it might have given in to gravity’s wishes for a taste. “So, tell me friendo. How are you dealing with all this shit? I’d have to eat all the cannolis you got to feel anywhere near as chipper as you look.” I also don’t need to instantly gain 20 pounds. Especially not if I’m actually serious about making a run at the Edge.

Marco was not only happy to see that Jill didn’t hesitate to take him up on the offer, but there was an improvement of sorts on her face. Again, Marco wasn’t observant like other people he knew, but the difference was noticeable. She didn’t seem as hesitant and he would take that as a good sign. Even despite all that was revealed, there was a glimmer of hope and he took comfort in that. But suddenly the roles were reversed somehow and Marco was the one who found himself hesitating. Not because he didn’t know how to respond, but he just didn’t know what to say specifically.

“Not sure what you mean.” It was partially the truth. Marco was struggling to come up with an answer for Jill, but he knew he had to speak candidly with her. Not only because of the terror revelations they all had to bear witness to, but Marco considered Jill a friend; and she seemed to consider him as one, too. He owed her at least something. “I’m just trying to stay strong for everyone. I mean, I guess I’m just here to help my friends get through this. I mean, my relation to Alison wasn’t as close as maybe yours and Lanie’s were. I know that not only do I want to be, but I need to be that shoulder any of you guys can rely on.”

That kind of hurt. Jillian knew she wasn’t strong anymore. Tonight, she had to rely on Mei to pull her out of her depressive spiral, Danny to pull her dumb ass towards the locker triggering the depressive spiral, and now Marco to pull her away from what was more than likely going to be another lonely trip to scrounge up whatever drugs she could find to take her mind off everything. It was hard to be a pillar when everything kept getting knocked out from under her.

“At least one of us might be able to do that,” she said with a melancholic tint. It was tough to fight the waves of self-pity that were coming with this current train of thought. Her mind continued to roll all over the place, but right now sadness was taking the lead. “Feels like I’ve had to try and fuckin’ do that for so long.” Jillian didn’t look up at Marco, instead staring out into the street while her hand held onto the remaining half of the cannoli. “I can’t do it any more. I don’t have the energy. I don’t have the strength. I don’t have the fuckin’ space left in my brain to be able to add any more weight. I’m just a damn failure now. A glimpse of what awaited Ally if we actually saved her that night. I’ve got nothin’ left to give, Marco, and I don’t even know who’d want it if I had it.”

“I feel that to my core.”

Hearing Jill speak and the words that came from her mouth, he felt that familiar taste of self-sabotaging poison come back at him and it transported him back to a time when he was more than just the shoulder to cry on, but rather the friend that could do more than just that. Marco was the guy who, when he was in his best shape, he’d entertain, he would do imitations -- sometimes physical ones -- just to bring smiles to his friends’ faces. Now, however, he couldn’t do much of anything. His glory days were behind him and being here at a house where the worst thing that happened to him was being forced by Kylee Grimm to talk to Danny, he just didn’t feel like he belonged anymore.

And maybe he hated that Danny forced him here because his ex thought he needed answers. “You know, I used to be more than this.” Marco took a moment to look himself up and down. His gut curved and his legs were shaking slightly. Even when sitting, he was a mess from the waist down. “You probably remember during foot--soccer season--” The boy laughed, forgetting for a moment that what he was so used to calling football wasn’t actually that. “I mean, I was the star player on the soccer team. I don’t like to brag about it because, well given what happened cause of him, I just...well it’s not a memory I’m fond of thinking about, but before then, I know people said I could go pro. But it was more than that. I could actually be somebody to people who thought the world of me. They used to tell me that I didn’t need to be more than who I was; that somehow just me being happy was enough for them.”

Marco’s smile faded, thinking about how his parents often told him that over and over. He might’ve believed it at one point, but after the shooting and he went through hell at rehab, Marco didn’t know anymore. The pain he went through didn’t even compare to the constant pity party he has been throwing himself since then. In moments when he wasn’t around his family or people in his life who could see right through the facade -- like Danny -- he just couldn’t fake it anymore.

“So, trust me, I know what that’s like, Jill. And I don’t have any answers that will make it easier, but..” For the first time in a while, Marco smiled and took Jill’s free hand, “I’m here. And no matter what happens or, well regardless of anything, you can always rely on me if you just want to talk or anything, really.”

This was weird. Given the doubts that Jillian had been having recently about ever being able to trust a man, why was this situation working out so well? Was it the old "misery loves company" axiom at play?

It made sense Marco could sympathize given what happened to him post-Edenridge. Jillian did cheer at her fair share of soccer games. She knew what Marco could do before… well, before he couldn't any more. She kind of forgot about that when just seeing him on the stoop. Like she was forgotten. Life in the south was mean to those who couldn't sustain a pathway out.

As Marco's hand embraced her own, the first masculine touch since Mike's final one, more thoughts emerged, thoughts long dormant. What was this? Sympathy? Empathy? It wasn't sexual or anything, it definitely didn't have that energy. It was nice though. Something she hadn’t had since Danny went and fucked up. Jill let out another sigh, one with more relief behind it than anything else. Knowing there was someone out there that had a feeling of what she was going through on her side of the window. Especially if she needed a friend more than a love-… no. Mei wasn't… not yet. Was there a yet? Was that a thing?

Would Marco be able to understand that question?

"You know, I was gonna take pre-law at BC?" she started. "Because I was so calm and composed in the face of the shooting, people thought I would be a shoo-in for being a lawyer or a politician or something. But that shit took so much out of me, having to try and pretend like everything was all right and that we were gonna make it through. Maybe Ally could have done that. I don't think I did. And then when Mike came back… maybe I just fucked myself into this spot. And I don't know what to do to unfuck it. I have an idea, maybe, but…" Jill trailed off at the end, still unsure if she wanted to say the things she thought she was feeling. "I don't even know if that could be a way. If it's even possible." She stopped abruptly, unsure if she even wanted to continue down this lane of thought with someone who wasn't Mei, but Mei wasn't an option in this case.

For the longest moment to exist in the history of moments, Marco found himself staring at Jill with a weird mix of confusion and curiosity on his face. The boy’s blue eyes were narrowed slightly, head tilted to the left only by a few centimeters, and lips partially opened. Whenever Marco was trying to process something, this was the face he made. It wasn’t a great poker face, but every time he gamed and tried to figure out something that was throwing him, he made that face. “What do you mean, Jill?” He asked, trying to read her face. That’s what his father did, right? As a detective, Colin Brady had to judge the face, so Marco was trying to as well. He had a thought of what she might be wanting to say, but Marco had been wrong about things like this so many times, so he didn’t state it. Instead, he said, “I’m not sure I follow.”

Jillian’s eyes were darting around as if trying to find the words to lead this boy where she herself was trying to get to. Am I fucking sure about this? I mean, I know I told Mei I couldn’t do it, but… fuck that night. Fuck that stupid night with Mike. Would I have just been happier if I never bothered with him? Or any of those other randos in high school? Would I have been able to save Ally if I wasn’t busy slurping that piece of shit? That last thought brought a grimace to her face that she tried to hide with another bite of cannoli. Maybe the sweet treat would buy her some time. … Fuck. It just… Fuck…

She swallowed and while her face pointed at Marco, her eyes still looked away, as if to make sure that no one else was in earshot to hear her. “I… I think… I think I’m done with men… and I’m in love with a girl… and I don’t think it matters anymore to anyone except me and her… but it’s the only good I can see in this stupid life right now…” Now her eyes were locked on to Marco, with the difficult part out of the way. “And I dunno if it’s actually something, or just a product of this shit, but, I dunno. I just feel it more and more lately.”

“Damn..” Marco couldn’t find the words he wanted because, honestly, that was something that he remembered saying to himself when he was starting to feel things for Danny. That sort of doubt and various ‘could he’ -type of questions that crept into his mind and had him lay awake at night thinking of the various scenarios. Anything from the best case to worst case, Marco remembered entertaining every single one of them. Of course, it was different from Jill’s case, but he couldn’t ignore some of the similarities to them, either.

“Sometimes you just have to follow your heart. I mean, I won’t pretend to know Mei inside and out or anything, but she sounds like she’s pretty damn important to you, now more than ever.” Marco bit his lip, trying to find the right words. “You know, it’s kind of funny. You and I have similar experiences with love. Not the same circumstances, but I found myself doubting if I was in love with someone. It was complicated and not traditional, but there was a time that we were together and, I guess what I’m trying to say is that life is short. So if you really feel strongly for her, you should see if there’s anything there.”

The red had spread to Jillian’s cheeks now. She didn’t realize that her friend had such a bead on exactly who she was talking about. “That obvious it was Mei, huh?”

Marco laughed somewhat nervously, a smile returning to his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. Just seemed like an obvious thing, y’know? Kinda like how Wolverine and Jean Grey were hot for each other. Or.. ya know something like that.”

The reference went a little above what the O’Brien girl could remember at the moment. Vague memories of seeing an X-Men movie with Danny back in the day, although she knew Jean Grey was in it because Sophie Turner was goals. But that was besides the point. If even Marco could see what was happening from a broad overview of the situation, what was stopping Jillian from actually acting on it? Mei’s feelings? The redhead could still feel that kiss underneath her bangs from earlier. There was obviously some level of care there, especially given how their relationship had grown from that first night here up to tonight.

Jillian’s reputation? What fucking reputation was there to worry about? She had nothing. Just a tragic figure, drifting like a lazy ghost through the south side. She could still hear murmurs about her lost child from time to time when she dared venture out during the day. It’s why she didn’t do it very often anymore.

Her financial situation? Not like it would damage that any worse than it was now. As far as she knew, her mother wasn’t prejudiced against same-sex relationships. How could she be given the parade of people across the gender spectrum Grace brought home on regular intervals to this day? Her dad might have had some questions, but he wasn’t around to pass judgement anymore. Besides, she was probably going to end up at Mei’s tonight anyway. She spent a lot of time over there. If they lived together it would probably make things easier and…

Fucking hell. Simmer down, Jill. Stop planning the patio layout when the house isn’t even built yet.

At least Marco seemed to have an idea on how to handle it. She didn’t know who he was talking about with his experiences. She didn’t exactly pry into his love life during the high school days and she had no idea who he would be after now. She figured Lanie dragged him out. Was that a thing? No, no it couldn’t be.

She gave the impression that she was still debating the Mei question, but that was now answered. This was going to have to be something she pushed on in more lucid times. But she wanted to know. “How did that story end between you and that unconventional lover, Marco?”

“That’s...not a simple answer…”

And suddenly, like a flick of a switch, Marco’s entire body felt tight. He hadn’t thought about Danny nor their breakup (if you could even call it that) since it happened. Truth was, Marco had been running away from a lot more than the shooting and everything that seemed to come with it. He had been running away from his feelings about Danny, and maybe if he was being honest with himself, his feelings for Danny.

He secluded himself in his room under the guise that he was still recovering from the shooting. And after he finished PT with Roddy, sure that held some truth, but there was a lot more. Deep down, maybe it was that Marco hadn’t faced the other traumatic event in his life that happened. “I mean, I never really thought about it since it happened. We weren’t out out or anything. I mean, things for him weren’t like me. Or at least I don’t think they were.” Crap, Marco realized that didn’t make any sense. “Sorry, I just haven’t talked about it with anyone, really.”

And he hasn’t truly faced it, either.

Jill wasn’t expecting a simple answer, but she was going to take an answer from Marco one way or the other, and the one she got wasn’t satisfactory. Not for someone who may be the first person she just admitted true feelings to that wasn’t Mei for the first time in over a year. “Well, maybe it’s the time to talk about it,” she countered. “I mean, I just talked with you about shit I haven’t told anyone else, in the world, and you know what? It actually felt good for a change. To actually talk about that shit instead of hoping there was another bottle of Smirnoff kicking around my room to try and drown it out instead. I don’t know if the vodka’s still talking now, but if it is, it might actually be making a good choice for once. So here’s what we’re gonna do, Marco. I’m gonna sit here, I’m gonna eat the rest of this cannoli that I have fucking missed dearly, and while I do that, you’re gonna talk about it with me. Fair is fair, right? If I’m having big personal revelations and shit, then you should too. So start talking about it.” She took a fairly big bite out of the remaining cannoli to emphasize her point.

Marco didn’t speak for a while. Ten seconds, twenty seconds...twenty-five seconds of silence and thinking about what she said. In that allotted time, Marco heard Jill crunch on the cannoli. And even though he missed Danny, missed...just missed being around him, maybe for the first time he couldn’t think about Danny in a positive light.

And that gutted him worse than getting shot. The fact that he was thinking about the man he loved and not every thought that came pouring out was a good one. Maybe Jill was right. She wasn’t close to Marco but she confided in him. Maybe it was time for Marco to talk about it with someone. “Well, I guess since you’re not leaving me with much of a choice…” Marco let his words fade off into a low chuckle. “So, there was this boy. You know, I met him in freshman year. I wasn’t even out then, but he was all I could think about. And through whatever series of fortunate events, we had moments where we’d just hang, ya know? And then we’d hang out some more, eventually being together. But he was so deep in the closet, I don’t think he even knew that’s what it was. So we dated in secret. Met at Lyon Park, met at my house when nobody was home. Basically did everything we could to be out of public view. And it was nice. We had each other and that’s all that should have mattered, right?”

Marco fell silent and looked down. He fiddled his thumbs together and he felt the tension in his shoulders increase even more. Even as his arms started to shake, he continued: “But junior prom came and we got into it. I wanted to go public. I didn’t want to hide anymore but he just...well, I guess he just didn’t feel the same way.” The silence took over yet again and Marco bit his lip. This had been the first time he’d told anyone this. He didn’t even think about it as much anymore. Thinking about it and what came after was too painful. Nothing would change but sometimes, when Marco found himself feeling he needed a good dose of pain, he let himself relive that night over and over again to remind him that he wasn’t as strong as his parents like to believe he was.

As the cannoli shrunk to a bite, Jill had to pause and concentrate on what Marco was saying, especially in regards to the secrecy that was required. She should have figured it was a little harder for guys to enjoy their love freely in public than girls. But apparently Marco had to pull some deep cover back in the day. Jillian had no idea Marco was gay back then. He certainly hid it well enough. It’s a shame high-school bullshit had to go and apparently wreck things. It was good at doing that. She couldn’t remember much about junior prom. Kat was excited that she had locked down Lucas Hayes as her date, much to Liv’s dismay. Danny showed up with… actually she couldn’t remember who he showed up with. It was a little bit before he fucked up their friendship, but it had to be some bimbo given the lack of decorum he had in regards to everything. Thinking back, these would be painful memories of friends lost, but Jill had relived them so often she was usually numb to them at this point. Marco, however, didn’t appear to have that particular ability.

Seeing the boy clearly in a state trying to recall those events, twitching like he just shotgunned 12 cups of coffee, it occurred to her that maybe some comfort was needed. Some of the old sweetness long thought erased by tragedy and cocktails might just have been drawn out of the darkness after all this time. Jill popped the last of the cannoli in her mouth and turned around to grab both of Marco’s hands in her own in an effort to ease the worries. “I’m sorry you had that done to you, Marco,” she offered. “High school is fucking awful. I’m sorry you gave your heart to someone who didn’t treasure it and treat it with the respect it deserved.” Yet another painful subject that Jill had to dull with her efforts of the past year. “I know how fucking difficult it can be to feel like you have that trust with someone, and then just have it broken because… well… because they suck. But you know what? Someone out there, someone you may know now, someone you may not have met yet, that someone wants to be with you fully and completely. Someone wants to be able to go to the park with you in broad daylight. Someone wants to meet the people you care about. Someone wants that shit. I can’t tell you they are coming soon. I can’t fucking tell you if they are right in front of your face and you just don’t see it. But someone is going to find you, and appreciate the fuck out you, pain and all. They’ll be able to make you laugh and cry and give you that dance you didn’t get at junior prom. They will support you at your fucking worst. And if you’re lucky, you’ll be able to do the same for them for as long as you both want.” This was rambling a bit, but in Jill’s mind this was every pump up speech she ever remembered from the movies rolled into one. “So, I don’t know who this guy was, but he must have been a fucking idiot to not want to be seen with someone as sweet and nice as you, and I hope he feels that regret every day. But you don’t deserve that shit.” She tried to lean in for a friendly hug, but her aim still wasn’t great and it turned into more of a one-handed wrap. “And thank you for telling me that. Couldn’t have been easy, but hey, maybe I’m still a good leader by example when I wanna be.”

Marco found himself giving Jill’s hands a gentle squeeze. He couldn’t let himself smile much, though. Not because he didn’t appreciate her support and, honestly, her company as well. But what she said about Danny. Even though it’s been more than two years since all of that, Marco couldn’t bring himself to hate his ex or even feel anything negative in that regard. Honestly, he didn’t know what he felt. And maybe Jill was right about a revelation coming to him. He knew the only person who could help him sort...whatever it was he was feeling might just be the very cause of his complicated tornado that were his emotions.

“I know you will be. I’m glad we had this chance to talk. It was nice being able to talk to someone who didn’t show pity on me and who I used to be, ya know?” He softly smiled at Jill.

She snorted softly at that. “Would be fucking hypocritical if I did that, wouldn’t it?” She leaned back up, still not sure if that snort really came out of her. It was something younger Jillian did, but hadn’t really made itself heard in a while. “Honestly, this may be the best thing to come out of this whole fucked-up evening. Well, that and realizing I’m probably coming out soon. But hey, at least I got someone who can navigate all this shit for me. Or with me. Whatever. Think we both got some crap on that path to deal with.” At least there was now backup in the 1% chance something did go wrong with her confession to Mei. Would it come tonight? Jill was going to spend the night at the Ramsey place one way or the other. Maybe there would be a moment. Least I know this big moment is coming. One way or the other. No surprises. Just a shot at the dark. I’ll be ready.

Marco couldn’t help but chuckle. Not to mock her, of course, but just that he couldn’t help but think about Lanie. He had come wobbling out of the house because he wanted to find her. She darted out of the house so fast that he didn’t even get past the stoop. And now he was thinking about Lanie back when he first came out. The situation and circumstances were different for him than Jill, of course, but he couldn’t help but think about how Lanie was there for him, giving him strength and the assurance that he couldn’t give himself. She was the person who made him feel confident when he finally came out as bisexual to his family and even to some others close to him.

As he tried to stand up, Marco gripped the handrail for support. Stiff limbs cracked with the kind of sound one heard when they’ve been sitting too long. He grunted and grimaced and made sounds of mild discomfort, but he did it. As he held his hand out for Jill, he’d show her at least some strength that he knew he had in him to help her up too, though he probably didn’t need to. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, friend!” He just smiled at her. Jill was definitely right about one thing: this new closeness they had, it was probably the best thing that could have happened. A surprising light in the darkness.

Edenridge

_{December 21st, 2016 || Edge of Sin, Southie}

_{A @metanoia, @Aces Away & @BrutalBx Collaboration || Honey Badger, Boa, and ReyRey, featuring Prof, Sonny, Danny}
____________________________________________________________________________________________________

The night the Haze/Carlisle crew got out of Juvie was the night that a Serpent Party broke out in the Edge of Sin's parking lot in celebration. There were fires lit in barrels spread out across the lot, with plenty of tables piled high with food and drink, and dozens of Serpents and Serpent adjacents roaming around and already getting started. The large van pulled into the lot to the cheers of everyone there, and one by one the boys stepped out of the back and took their first breath of home in over a year and a half. Decky had stepped out first, followed by Sonny and then the others. The first thing he did was scan the welcoming faces in search of one person: ReyRey. Charlie could wait, but Decky's big brother and veritable leader (barring only Big Rey himself, of course) would probably kill him if he greeted anyone else other than him first. Once he'd done that he could find whatever Serpent was watching over Danny until they'd gotten there.

Trailing past snake-patched jackets and receiving claps to the back and shoulder as he looked for the familiar imposing figure of ReyRey, the other freshly freed Serpents followed right after. When the other boys noticed how stiffly Decky received the friendly welcomes, they quickly made sure to bracket him from the onslaught, explaining in low tones that he was still healing from Hatchet’s attack two weeks prior. That allowed Decky to breathe and for their whole group to move a little quicker. And there, at the back of the lot near the Serpent entrance to Edge of Sin, was the man they had been searching for. Decky walked up to him, waiting on the edge of his personal boundaries as always, right hand pressing into the injury on his left side as if it were the only thing keeping him up. As always, he kept still and waited for the man’s conversation to end and to be acknowledged.

His fever had broken two days after Poppy’s visit, but the infection had been in constant flux, and unfortunately, it was not a mild day for him. He felt aggravated and a little dizzy, and he hasn’t been able to stomach anything for the past day. He just wanted to greet ReyRey, find Danny and keep him at his side all night, and maybe do a damn line or two to forget about the fact that he felt like a warmed-over pile of shit on a hot day.

Maybe he could even avoid seeing Hard Times altogether tonight. He wasn't sure he could keep his cool with his already short fuse.

Cigarette between his fingers, drink in hand and girl on his lap, ReyRey glanced past the whore and at the small crew heading towards him. He spat on the floor and shoved the girl off of him "Go find yourself a pole to ride, mami. I got business” R2 pulled himself up to his feet and opened his arms wide to greet the newly arrived Decky and his boys. ”Well well, it’s the juvie boys. Tell me guys, which one of you dropped the soap the most? I reckon it was lil Sunshine over here. Lord knows you been just waiting for Decky to give you an Eiffel Tower. Get in here, you little jerk offs.” He embraced all of them with a hug and a kiss to the cheek.

There were laughs had throughout the group as they received their welcome, Sunshine with a little more of a blush than the rest at ReyRey's words. While luckily none of them had dropped the soap- at least not with other Serpents around to watch their back- that didn't mean none of them had gotten any action on the inside either. Aside from a very dedicated-to-Findley Prof, all the Serpents had managed to keep themselves busy but that didn't make hearing ReyRey's depiction of Sunshine any easier on the boy's ears.

"All safe an' unmolested, if not unmarred," Decky finally replied for the group, grinning at ReyRey past the pain the hug had caused. A welcome back was a welcome back, no matter your current wounds.

"I'm certainly scarred from sharin' a cell with you two Energizer bunnies." Prof muttered from behind Decky, receiving a middle finger directed at him from behind the younger's back.

"Least ya didn't get stabbed, bitch!" Decky singsonged in response, generating a truly impressive eye roll from their chemist. "So R2, wa's new?"

ReyRey returned to his “throne” and for a brief moment became lost in thought. Whispers of sweet nothings, and the image of green and white… Snapping out of his trance, he looked at his amassed underlings and let out a hearty laugh. ”You mean besides you ass bandits being home? Well, let’s see. Profits are up but our rep is way down, wanna know why?” the kingsnake sprung to his feet and slapped Decky hard in the face, with enough force to knock the youth to the ground. ”Cos your boy Decker killed the fucking Queen of this stinking town. He fucked up, kid.”

Decky stared at the ground for a hot second, his side burning from the twist to the ground and breathing short as pain flared from his hip to his ribs. Sonny had lunged toward Decky on instinct, only to be grabbed back by Prof and Ransom as the two pulled him to the back of their little group. Everyone knew that ReyRey barely stood Sonny, that the boy's natural attitude seemed to personally grate on the man for reasons unknown. Having him jump in the middle of something between him and Decky was like asking for a beating.

Decky was grateful for that. At least the second of lively distraction allowed him to regain his breath. The slap had been hard- R2 never did things half assed after all- and Decky had definitely bit into his cheek when the hand had connected. He pushed himself back up to his feet and squared his shoulders, eyes void of his swirling emotions as he met ReyRey's similar browns. Nobody needed to know what he was feeling right now, emotions had no place here. They needed their captain, not some kid who chose the wrong replacement but still felt loyal to him as a friend. But he was always more loyal to ReyRey, and that had to show. He pulled his hand away from his wet side, the stitches once again torn and wound leaking blood and infection, and spoke up.

"I'll take care of it. He could avoid me before by not visitin' me inside--" he spat a glob of blood to the side to show his opinions on that cowardly move. "--he ain't 'boutta skirt away any longer. His shady ass needs ta gimme some answers." he kept his gaze on ReyRey, no shake in his voice as he asked, "Til I see 'im, what's my punishment for the bad Vouch?"

He'd beg later. When it's just him and ReyRey alone he'll get on his fuckin' knees and beg ReyRey to allow Charlie to stay on as a Serpent. If only to help his mother, if only on a low-ranked basis. He may be pissed at Hard Times, but Momma Decker didn't deserve to suffer for his stupidity.

Behind him, his crew held their breath.

”I haven’t decided yet” Rey adjusted the rings on his fingers after the slap. ”At least not in full but to start…” the serpent monarch glanced at Decky’s crew, his support bubble, his familia and grinned like a rattlesnake. "To start, you get ten lashings. You are going to get on your hands and knees like a dog, begging and your boys are gonna hit you, one by one, with my belt. Then some pledges are gonna hit you some more, then I’m going to tear you up and you will say thank you, ReyRey, may I have another?. That, that’s where we start”

The older man picked up his beer from the side and took and downed it in one. His face was tired and he looked like he hadn’t slept. The night was beginning to wear thin on him. ”You be at the Sin tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy your first night of freedom. Get your hole, get a drink. Make peace with the fact that after tonight, you got ground to make up. My boy HB is around here somewhere, find him. Show him the South Side way. Welcome back, Boaz.” Rey turned away and headed off into the crowd of people, soon disappearing from view.

Once he was gone, all the statues behind him came back to life, his crew murmuring worriedly as they closed around him again. His head was pounding, his side was burning and bleeding, his mouth tasted like copper and he was in for a beating in less than 12 hours. He deserved it, anyway. First, he let his guard down in Juvie and got jumped, and then Hard Times fucked up under his vouch. Now after tomorrow he's gonna be walking funny in the least enjoyable way possible. Decky's staring past all the faces of his crew and in the direction ReyRey had left.

He'd still brought him into his arms and kissed his cheek in welcome. He'd just entrusted him with someone he called HB- and who the fuck was that that he's so important to ReyRey?- so it wasn't like he was getting dropped to the side for his failures. ReyRey was giving him leeway: a rare thing for the man.

"-ain't gonna fuckin' belt ya Mob, yer still fucked up from Hatchet!" Sonny's words cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the real world. As real as it was while gray tinted the edges of his vision and each breath felt like embers flying within his lungs. He blinked at Sonny slowly, still trying to process what the other said as all the stimulus of the night started filtering back into his senses.

"Yes...you are." he finally replied, spitting a glob of blood out of his mouth and shakily wiping his mouth with the back of his arm.

"No I ain't!"

"Then he'll put you on the fuckin' ground next ta me, Sunshine." Decky growled weakly, pinching the bridge of his nose as if it would help the headache at all. The others were watching on as though it was a fatal tennis match.

"So let 'im do it then!" Decky flinched back violently at the words, the final twist in his stomach's coffin as he found the nearest fire-less barrel and emptied the meager contents he had been able to take in in the van. Jokes and Creed fell into place on either side of him on instinct, and he could feel and hear other partygoers' attention on him despite it already being well known that he wasn't in the best of health.

“So do it!” Decky yelled, making his father jerk back in surprise before the scowl retook his features and another sharp crack! was heard through the room as Beni left a hand shaped mark on his cheek.

“You wanna take his beatin’,” Beni replied with a poisonous glare.
“that’s just fine. Lana, keep the other watchin’.”

"Wait wh-”

CRACK!

“You didn’t think he’d get off that easy did you? You taking his punishment doesn’t teach him anythin’ unless he fuckin’ sees it!”

CRACK!

Decky picked his head up from the edge of the barrel and reached a hand back, blindly reaching for Sonny's jacket. The other boy didn't disappoint, stepping into Decky's space so he could latch hold.

"Never take a fuckin' beatin' for me, 'specially one ya c'n fuckin' 'void," he half slurred, half pleaded as he finally turned around and buried his face in the crook of Sonny's neck, the familiar scent of his Serpent jacket helping him to relax a fraction. Sonny stared at the top of his head as he tried to figure out his violent reaction. Suddenly, his arms tensed around the dark eyed boy as he remembered the night they joined the Serpents.

“They kept Danny in our room,” Decky let out with a broken sob. “They made ‘im watch and now he’s in there ‘n’ I’m stuck out here. They made him watch, Sunshine.”

"Okay, Mob," Sonny finally replied, kissing the top of his head as the other still wouldn't leave his spot. "Okay, I'll…fuck idunno, I'll pretend we're doin' some exhibitionist crap or somethin'," they both chucked weakly while the rest of the crew exchanged hushed conversation around them, creating a bubble of privacy for their Captain and Lieutenant. "We always figure it out, us two."

Decky finally pulled away from Sonny, and at this point the rest of the crew had glared away the curious partygoers. Prof looked over his shoulder and gave Decky a stern glance, eyes tracing over his now very red tank top.

"To Fins. Now."

---

Decky stepped back out of the Edge feeling more grounded than he had in two weeks. Prof had stayed behind so he and Findley could celebrate his return. Ransom had disappeared with Prof's cousins and fellow Serpents Ducaleon "Duke" and Dolce "Dutchess" Booker, and wasted no time in pulling his literal partner in crime away to dance after the siblings had been properly reunited with their cousin. Jokes and Creed had gone to their dorm as soon as they were sure Decky was in Fin's safe hands. Molotov had broken off halfway to the dorm in order to indulge in the Edge's bar, muttering something about wanting to get blitzed and stay that way.

Sunshine stepped out behind him, sucking obscenely on the lollipop Fin always gave them as a joke. Decky gave him a rough grin in response to the noises he was making, rolling his eyes and taking the lollipop out of Sonny's mouth and giving him a bruising kiss before keeping the candy for himself, popping it into his own mouth. Fin and Prof always made great pills, and luckily Prof wasn't the only producer for the serpents. But since she had been helping him make pain meds for her MawMaw since they were kids it was something Fin did completely on her own while the crew was inside. They worked damn well too, the pain in his side was still there, but it was as if there was a layer of softness over everything. She had cleaned out the infection as best she could before stitching him back up, and told him to take it easy in that long suffering tone that meant she knew he wouldn't. Pain no longer flared at every step and while the world was a bit muted along with it, he felt he was ready to actually experience the party.

"Go find Danny for me, will ya Sunshine? I'm gonna go find this HB kid ReyRey spoke 'bout." Sonny nodded and headed off into the crowd, Decky doing so in the opposite direction. He spoke to a few of the groups milling about and after a few minutes was finally directed towards a guy about an inch taller than him with dark brown hair in one of the corners of the lot. He approached slowly but confidently, his walk still stilted from the wound but much smoother than before Findley had gotten ahold of him. His cheek was already bruised from ReyRey's hit, but he couldn't feel it at all.

"Oy, yer HB yeah?" he asked, leaning against the brick behind him as he settled beside the other boy. "'parently I'm a new tour guide for ya." he popped the lollipop out of his mouth and gave the guy a sharp, toothy grin. "'N' I've always got somethin' ta show."

Mika rolled his eyes as soon as he heard someone whose voice he didn't recognize call him by his street name. And when he turned around, he met this boy's gaze with something in the neighborhood of boredom and unamused. "Were you now? And lemme guess, you're supposed to be the cure for my apparent need to loosen up, right?" It was clear in the way Mika spoke that he wasn't in the mood to do anything that even resembled what this Urban Justin Bieber knock-off had in mind. "Just go tell Rey I'm fine. Or whatever ya need to that'll make him happy."

Realizing he had approached this guy the wrong way, Decky released his playful air and came back with an eyeroll of his own. "I'm not goin' back to ReyRey ta tell 'im anythin' but the truth," he said blandly. "don't think my side could handle another smack if I lie to 'im. He told me ta show you the way an' I'mma do that whether or not either of us likes it." He frowned as he stuck the lollipop back in his mouth, watching the rest of the party from their secluded little corners. "Just 'cause I can be a lil' fun don't mean I'mma be your personal fleshlight or some shit, I'm not some hanger-'round. Besides, looks like your ass is already occupied by that stick up it."

He barely registered his last words, and had to suppress a flinch when he did. He still had almost no idea who this kid was, either. He had been half worried that HB was meant to be his replacement before some of the party goers' gossip had reached his ears. HB was favored and taken in by the snake royalty, and he was from outside Edenridge. That's all he could go off of right now. The pills were working too good if he was going to be running off at the mouth like Sunshine always did. Speaking of, he couldn't see Danny or Sonny in the crowd and his shoulders were tensing the longer there was no sight of either. It was a damn parking lot, how hard is it to find one twelve year old in a sea of serpents?

“Excuse me?” Mika raised a brow at this guy at that last comment he threw at him. “Who the hell says I have anything south of the border?” He asked, clearly offended at this presumptuous asshat’s words.

He was already in a bad mood. He told Rey Rey he didn’t want to come. He even told Big Rey that he didn’t want to come, but it wouldn’t be until it came at the behest of Ley, that fucking viper who Mika found himself having a soft spot for, that he had been convinced to give it a chance. Ley, the only person who thus far had been getting through to Mika ever since he was forced to live in this shithole of a town. Not even that brief moment of understanding with that Belmonte girl a few weeks ago had any lasting effects on him. He still hated this place. He still hated that he was forced to live here for whatever reason.

And he hated whoever this fuckass was and his inability to take no for an answer. “Are you hard of hearing or just a balvan? Because I said I don’t need any tour guide and I'm already in a pretty bad mood.” Mika turned away from him. “So go find one of your butt buddies or whatever it is you need to do to leave me the fuck alone.”

"Jesus, I'm just tryina do my fuckin' job here," Decky growled out, staring up at the heavens like they would help him just once in his life. "Yer over here actin' like sayin' no to R2 is a common thing 'round here. I dunno if that's privilege or ignorance comin' from you but if it's the latter it'll change fast enough." He wiped a hand down his face and took a deep breath. "Look, I got a hole in my side and a brother to find, I don't know how ta talk to ya and I don't actually fuckin' wanna but yer my assignment now so-" he was cut off as someone collided into his side, and suddenly the painpills seemed nonexistent once more. His breath-and the lollipop- was punched out of him all at once and he half crumpled over the small figure of Danny, who had wrapped himself right around the elder Boaz.

"Decky!" He called in excitement before he saw how white his brother's face had gotten. "Ohmygod! Your wound, I'm so sorry!" He went to lurch backwards as if his touch was poisonous, before throwing himself right back in place as Decky began to collapse.

"W-were ya that mad 'bout me goin' insi-ah-inside, Boychik?" Decky attempted to joke, but it all came out much more strained than he had wanted it to. At Danny's distressed face he huffed and dropped a hand onto the younger boy's mop of curls, pushing his forehead to his own. "'M kiddin', know it was 'n accident. 'M fine"

"The slurred speech says otherwise, lekish!"

Sonny stumbled out of the crowd then, eyes wild in his search for the young Boaz boy. His shoulders relaxed when he saw the two brothers, despite the fact that Decky had obviously taken another hit to his wound judging by his curled posture and pale face. He grinned weakly at the sight before calling to Danny.

"You should join a fuckin' track team you lil' speedster," he said with an eyeroll before reassessing something in his mind. "Or maybe I'm outta shape…" he trailed off as he watched the brothers, taking in the moment for a second before turning his gaze to the outlier of the little group. Decky had completely lost interest in the other boy in favor of his brother, but he still knew he was there. It was evident in the way that even though Danny was fluttering around his brother like an excited puppy, Decky always made sure to remain between the young Boaz and the unknown player. Jeez, the guy seemed to take brooding lessons from ReyRey.

"...'Sup?"

There was a lot that happened in the past few minutes and Mika wasn’t sure what to focus on. Seeing hearing something about a wound reopening or something along those lines wasn’t the sort of thing Mika could completely ignore. He witnessed the whole ordeal when a younger kid hugged Urban Biebs, or Decky but Mika was still going to call him Urban Justin Bieber and then when that hug made all hell break loose. But amidst the chaos, there was something else Mika fixated on.

Growing up in the house he did, Boychik was a term used so often from a few of his uncles that visited. Mika knew it and, maybe it was just him being homesick, but he kind of focused on that. They might have not seen it, but Mika half-smiled at everything. Even Decky, the Urban Justin Bieber, was getting some kind of reaction from him.

“Hey,” Mika finally said to one of the guys who decided to acknowledge him, “So, Decky is that guy’s name, huh? He gonna be alright? The fuck is up with his wound, anyway?”

"Mob's fine, it happened two weeks ago," Sunshine tilted his head, tracking the boy's small smile. "They didn't treat him in juvie so it's been gettin' infected on an' off." He answered easily. Decky had allowed himself to slide down against the brick so he was sitting against the wall, Danny immediately curling up under his arm on his uninjured side.

"'Tis but a flesh wound 'n' all that shit," Decky gasped out. "I'll get more pills from Fins an' I'll be all ready ta go. Gotta be, for tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Danny asked, eyes wide. "You shouldn't be working again already Decky, you couldn't even get out of bed last week to see us at visitation."

"Nothing's tomorrow bubbe." Decky replied quickly before Sonny could put his foot in his mouth. "Just Serpent business, gotta get my corner back in order after a year an' a half away."

"An' I get to sit in the dorm waiting for you, right?" Danny pouted, expecting to be left to his own devices until Decky would return to him. His brother winced slightly before rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Nah, sorry bubbe but you're either gonna be with Pops or Phil tomorrow, I'll pick you up once it's all over."

Danny frowned at his older brother, but kept his mouth shut. He could tell something was up, but there was a lot that his serpent family wouldn't tell him. Always for his own safety, they'd say. Decky tilted his head up towards HB, unsure if the boy would be part of his punishment in the morning as well, or if he had known about ReyRey's ideas for punishment before Decky had.

"So, since we ain't got much choice in seein' a lotta each other: this is my baby brother Danny, he's almost always around with one of the Haze/Carlisle corner crew," his voice was coming back a little stronger now that he was sitting down and taking in enough air. "I'm Decky, newly returned corner Captain, and that's Sunshine over there, my lieutenant."

Mika gave the little kid a soft smile. He reminded him of his younger sisters. Stacy specifically came to mind. They both had soft eyes. “Sup--” Mika said as he looked at Sunshine for a few seconds and then drew his eyes back to Decky. “I’m Mikhail, but everyone calls me Mika or whatever the fuck you want.” Mika didn’t know how to do this...pleasantries thing. Even when he didn’t have a ‘stick up his ass’, he wasn’t sure how to be friendly, let alone with people he barely knew. But maybe it was the fact there was a sense of familiarity with Decky and his friends, it almost reminded him of his own crew back in Brooklyn.

Decky quirked a brow at the boy's change in tone, catching his gaze on Danny and slowly putting things together. So he had a soft spot for kids, huh? Danny remained buried in his side, but pulled his face away when Mika had spoken. The black eye Sonny had mentioned after visitation was almost completely healed, the coloring a light yellow and brown instead of the angry purple and black it had been when it was fresh. He was watching Mika warily but curiously, and Decky nudged the younger boy in his side.

"You got a question or some shit?"

Danny mumbled under his breath in response, and Decky could barely hear him when he was right next to his ear.

"Speak up Danny, he ain't gonna hit ya-" he sent a glare towards Mika in warning as if he would be able to stop the boy from hitting his younger brother in his current state. "-an' I can't understand yer mutterin'."

"Mikhail Krutikov has really good books," he spoke up, eyes shifting anywhere but Mika's eyes, but at least now facing the older boy. "There's one with Yiddish kids tales, That's the one I'm reading. And then there's one called Yiddish Fiction and the Crisis of Modernity 1905-1914 that Decky was reading me before he got pinched." His eyes were wide as he recalled the information, a spark of excitement alight within them. Decky was staring at Danny like he'd grown another head. Danny loved reading, but he didn't realize the boy memorized the titles that Decky was reading to him, especially when it had been almost two years since the book had been cracked. And who pays attention to the author like that? Given Decky had told Danny about him and they'd watched his lectures, but Decky didn't even remember until Danny mentioned him!

Damnit, his brother was probably some genius and no one even knew because he's been left behind by anyone that would be able to help him forward in that regard. He was wasted potential in human form, and Decky didn't have enough foothold or good grace to propel him forward the way he needed to.

Danny seemed to notice Decky's bewildered expression, and shrunk a bit before his brother caught the action and threw him a reassuring grin.

"I...uh...just wanted to know if you ever wanted to read him maybe? No one else around here does…"

Mika had just looked at Danny for a few moments and briefly did the same with Decky. “I’d be honored, Danny,” Mika said sweetly, kneeling down to Danny’s eye level. “You know, my mom told me that my father named me after that very author. Said it was one of the few authors that he enjoyed. And I kinda just grew up on stuff by him and others like him.” Danny's eyes practically had stars in them as he stared up at the new boy. This had been the first time Mika actually opened up about his parents or anything. Since coming to Edenridge, Mika had shut himself off and hated the fact that he didn’t feel any sense of familiarity or belonging despite him living with his godfather. But he was starting to feel that with Decky’s crew. “--If that’s okay with your brother, that is,” Mika said, looking up at Decky.

Decky stared at Mika with as much bewilderment as he had Danny, wondering briefly if Findley had slipped a hallucinogen into his meds. What a fuckin' attitude change. The thought made Decky grin, knowing that with masks like that the other boy would do just fine with the Serpents. He gave Mika his first genuine smile, approving of his actions towards his baby brother.

"Danny could always use more readin' buddies," he offered in response, giving a shallow shrug with his right shoulder. "He can read the kid's tales on his own but Krutikov's heavier shit is a bit too wordy, he needs some runnin' commentary for it."

"I like the running commentary," Danny corrected with a pout, causing Decky to turn his grin on him. He blushed and crossed his arms muttering, "I like the way you explain things."

Decky laughed, catching Sonny with a relaxed grin as he took in the scene before him silently. Even he knew when not to kill a moment every now and then. He turned his attention back to Mika.

"We caught one of his free lectures usin' one'a the library computers a couple years back. Lotta it went over my head but I did what I could."

Mika watched in silence, a small curve of a smile on his lips as he watched the brothers talk about Krutikov and how Decky couldn’t handle the heavier stuff. When he mentioned that they caught one of his lectures, Mika heard himself chuckling before the others would. “Don’t blame yourself too much, Decky,” Mika said, placing a hand on his shoulders, smiling at the boy. He made sure not to press too hard because of his fragile condition. “I’ve been reading his stuff for half my life and I still have a tough time comprehending it on a literary basis. My father was so intent on grilling some aspect of literature in me -- at least whenever the govnosos was around.” Thinking about his shithole of a father always made him feel sour, but right now, he couldn’t help but think of Ivan fondly. Even if he wasn’t always around and Viktor always seemed to be his preferred son, especially when it came to showing any sign of affection or acknowledgement, Mika wasn’t completely ignored by him. Or at least in those early years he wasn’t.

Decky and Danny had both flinched slightly when Mika had raised his hand, relaxing once all it did was fall onto Decky's shoulder. The other boy even maintained a gentleness to his condition that only his crew seemed to before. The way Mika spoke of his father seemed to be with a bit of yearning and a hint of bitterness. Decky only understood one of those emotions in regards to parents, but he wasn't going to begrudge someone for not getting their body beat or sold every day of their childhood. From behind Mika's crouched form, Sonny nodded to Decky and slowly melted back into the crowd, most likely to find the parts of his crew that wasn't fucking each other's brains out and give them an update on this Honey Badger character. Sonny could run information with the best of them, so long as it's not required to go Northside to deliver it.

Looking back to Mika, Decky smiled and gave a mock-pompous sniff. "Well, I guess ya ain't so bad if Krutikov is in your library." He said, keeping his nose in the air until Danny started giggling uncontrollably at the face he was making. He then broke down with laughter himself before grabbing his aching side and taking in a sharp breath through his teeth. "Motherfucker, this is bullshit. Over two week and this thing's still actin' like it's new."

"It's because of the infection, Decky. It basically keeps everything from healin' 'cause it's irr-irritatin' everythin'." Danny stumbled a bit over one of the words, blushing as he did so. He was always so embarrassed when he pronounced a word wrong or used it in the wrong context. Decky would always respond that he learned everything through books alone and that it was nothing to be ashamed of. One of his few lessons that never stuck. He was about to give the same speech anyway when something at the edge of the lot caught his eye. Charlie Decker had arrived, and with him all the bitterness and anger Decky had pushed aside. ReyRey and the others were gonna beat him tomorrow because Hard Times fucked up. Some chick was dead because Hard Times didn't check his batches right. He was Decky's responsibility.

"Watch boychik for a sec. Got someone ta...talk to." His eyes were stormy as they latched onto Charlie and didn't let go. His adrenaline was already pumping as he stood up and pushed himself off the wall despite Danny's protests. His unoccupied crew seemed to melt out of the woodwork behind him as he watched, as if they'd felt their Captain's rage. As he got closer to Charlie, he masked his face with a large smile, arms wide as if he were greeting an old friend for the first time in a while. Which is what he should have been doing. Instead, once he got close he called out, "Hard Times!" before darting into his space and giving him a full force right hook to his jaw, sending him to the ground. Decky then crouched over him, grin still on his face as she stared his friend down with cold eyes. "Ya stopped visitin' me!" The smile finally dropped to a scowl as he glared. "Any particular reason?"

Once again, Charlie Decker had found himself in a situation he didn’t want to be in. This time; he was at a serpent party but this wasn’t just any party, it was a serpent welcome home party. He didn’t want to be there, he had no right to be there considering what had transpired over the last few weeks but yet there he stood or at least, where he now lay after a punch from his friend, from his brother, Decky. He spat a glob of blood onto the floor and looked up at the visage of the elder Boaz glaring at him with rage.

”Deck I…” As Charlie raced through all the words that he could say, all the things he could do to try and convince Decky that he had nothing to do with the bad batch and Allison’s death he reached an epiphany of sorts. It wouldn’t matter if he managed to prove to the Carlisle crew his innocence; the town had already judged him. They had judged him from before he was even born, a bastard, a criminal born; he was guilty as charged before there had ever been a trial. Decky's narrowed eyes were watching his every moment.

The boy stood up to his full height; he was always the tallest in class and now they were in high school a lot of people confused Charlie for a senior. He towered over Decky and the rest of his boys, his deep set dark eyes staring almost blankly at them.”Life isn’t always what we want it to be, Decky. You should know that more than most” He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, the smaller's flinch was more violent than it has been in years. ”Welcome home buddy, enjoy your party” He turned away from the crowded group and walked back towards Lyon Park.

The crew watched the distance between him and Decky grow, which just seemed to make Decky's face redder with each step. His blood was practically singing and he couldn't tell if the pounding in his head was blood rushing or just a damn fine migraine in the works. His vision tunneled in at Charlie's retreating back. The boy had barely glanced at him before taking his leave, barely stood his ground.

"Decky Boaz!" Danny's voice called out, making Decky turn and wobble as he caught sight of his brother again, the boy has dragged Mika through the crowd by hand and was looking at him with confusion and alarm. "You're bleeding again! Just to punch Charlie?! Why'd you punch Charlie?"

All the words hit him but didn't process. He did indeed tear Findley's new stitches with the twist he threw into his punch- and she would make him pay dearly for that later no doubt- and Charlie's quick retreat had practically taken all the wind out of Decky's sails to make way for confusion. He stared at Danny as if waiting for the words to process. He took one step towards his distraught brother before his world tilted and went black.