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In BHHS: Limitless → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay






“AIS!”

As he struck the wooden training dummy, Adam could feel the sharp, knife-like sensation shooting down his inner forearm. He had learned long ago how to dull pain. Exhale through the mouth, release the feeling into the air to be carried off by the wind and centre yourself on something else, something that could flood your mind and wash away the sensations of agony and discomfort. In this moment, he thought of the wind in his hair as he rode a rail at the park. The sound of Everly bailing off to the side and Monarch cheering her on.

“AIS!”

Another strike, a downward pointed elbow. Adam’s mind drifted, unfocused into memory. He could see his opponents face contorted and grimaced as his patella tendon was ripped apart by the attack. It was almost like an out of body experience. Glancing up, he could see his father's steel blue eyes staring gleefully with mania at the carnage that was unfolding. No Mercy. Win at All Cost. Survive. Lessons learned at the Dojo were not lessons learned lightly. The whites of his father's teeth, the joker-like grin, it was encouragement to keep going. Adam repeated the elbow strike over and over. His enemy screamed. He whipped the boy around onto the floor and the ref charged the Omasta boy to the out of bounds section of the mat, separating the lion from his prey.

“AIS!”

Adam pressed a thrust kick into the centre of the dummy. Instead of simply seeing wood, the fighter saw his father, flying through the display window of his large trophy collection case. The glass breaking, shattering into a million pieces of stardust around the crumpling body of the senior Omasta, an image Adam kept in his head almost all the time. He ran from the scene, not stopping until he reached the beach, the ocean and a sense of tranquillity.

Pressing his head against the dummy, Adam gripped onto the bars for support to hold himself aloft. The sweat was pouring from his bare chest as he breathed out the pain, ignoring the swelling and bruising of his hands. Yet the lessons still remained, the teachings remained. He closed his green eyes and searched, he dove into the waters of his past to find a memory, to find his centre. As he searched for a face in the crowd, a hand to take his and pull him from the raging waters that swirled like rapids in his heart, he was snatched away by the alarm.

Stepping back and out of his mind palace, Adam breathed out and found himself once again in his basement bedroom, staring at his training dummy and probably late for school. Then he remembered, he had delayed his alarm three times already. He sprinted into the bathroom to grab a quick shower and wash away the blood that had stained in his hands from his early morning workout. After drying himself off, Adam pulled on a pair of tan cargo pants, black converse and a red v-neck tee with a black jacket.

He was definitely due a wardrobe overhaul as most of the young martial artists clothes were now too small, evident by his biceps and pecs bulging out of his current attire. It was his own fault, he had been on a bulk up all summer and gained a fair amount of extra muscle mass. Now fully dressed, Adam slung his satchel over one shoulder, his camera over the other and snatched his board from beneath his bed before exiting the house through the back door which sat atop the second set of stairs in his room.

There was no point in saying good morning to his parents. They wouldn’t be there anyway.

With bloodstream by Soccer Mommy playing in his ear, Adam rode his board through the streets of Beverly Hills, soaking in the sunrise and plastic popsicles that many called Beverly Hills Elite. This was a world he was born into but not one in which he ever truly felt that he had belonged. Graduation would creep up fast and as soon as it came around, he was riding his Birdhouse straight out of LA and into the great blue yonder.

For many, Adam gave off the appearance of a slacker. He barely spoke, was probably high most of the time and was just skating through life on his Shawn Hunter looks. He was ok with them believing that. Nobody needed to know what was going on beneath his bangs or behind his doors. It was his deal, not theirs. He was ever going to cry, woe is me, my life is so hard. That’s not how he was raised. Adam was raised to strike first, strike hard and leave no quarter.

CLICK
CLICK
CLICK

Rolling into the parking lot, the number one fighter on the amateur fighting circuit snapped photo after photo of his compatriots; not an unusual sight. Adam loved photography, candids mostly. He would say that he loved to catch the world unawares, in its natural state, as it was intended. His girls in the PLC were up to their usual mischief, so he offered them a thumbs up and a photograph. Hanging out of the window of Mrs Belmonte’s class was a tiny pair of legs in fishnets and big boots; could only be Addie, so of course he took a picture of that.

Adam stopped just short of the stairs and hopped off his board to take a photo of the school itself. A monster of a building, probably started very small before various donations from alumni feeling of desperation forced it to be added to until it became a shell that only Frankenstein's monster could truly love. Having it be struck by a bolt of lightning and burn to ashes to be swept away by the wind was not something, he suspected, most would disagree to. He kicked his board into his spare hand and climb the steps towards hell.

”One more year.” Adam thought to himself as he made his way through the halls. Everyone was so busy, everyone was always rushed and running and trying to find something or someone. He was too but he was taking it slow.

One only had to stand still to catch a butterfly.

To find a centre.
In BHHS: Limitless → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Timestamp: 7:30am
Location: Mr. Phoenix’s Homeroom
Theo Van Cise & Tatum Sterling
@BrutalBx & @Melissa
“A great numb feeling washes over me as I let go of the past and look forward to the future.
Pretend to be a vampire.
I don't really need to pretend, because it's who I am, an emotional vampire.
I've just come to expect it.
Vampires are real.
That I was born this way.
That I feed off of other people's real emotions.
Search for this night's prey.
Who will it be?”
- Brett Easton Ellis, The Rules of Attraction.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Theo entered into his homeroom to a round of applause, or at least it sounded like that in his head. Mr. Phoenix was wasting his time breathing as usual so the Franchise didn’t pay him any mind, instead allowing his burned hazelnut eyes to fall upon the amassed group of student bodies that were taking their seats in anticipation of the English teachers latest pointless diatribe. Time withers souls, life withers bodies and in his gaze he scanned the faces of his peers to find any kind of light or spark that could ignite a feeling within him or at the very least, create a convincing enough lie that would allow for him to be sucked into a feeling of normality. When he caught sight of her by the window, Theo knew exactly how he wanted to proceed.

Tatum Sterling.

She was there that day when he and that druggie scum Raven broke up. It was just before the summer break and they were hanging out at a party when Raven got up to the bathroom; when she returned she was a mess and barely functioning. Theo wasn’t one to judge people on their habits but the girl was an absolute state, a fucking embarrassment. There was no way he could spin and justify this to better him so the best thing was to cut the head off of the snake before she decided to bite him. He saw Tate watching and knew then, in that very moment, exactly how he needed to spin it to make it work for him.

The doting boyfriend, the worried lover unable to speak up about his feelings in worry about how it would affect the missing puzzle piece of his heart. And of course it worked, Theo’s plans always did. Now there he stood and where was Raven? Rehab. All summer he had been speaking with Tate, she reached out to him of course to see how he was and that was all the opening he needed. He knew that he was in her head, soon he’d be in her heart and he’d be between her legs and the connections that the quiet little mouse had would work one hundred percent in his favour.

This would be easy.

Theo took off his letterman jacket, showing off his huge biceps could never hurt but he knew that to win Tatum, looks weren’t enough, he had to win her love. That was the only way this was going to work. He greeted a few friends nonchalantly as he made his way through the desks until he reached a seat by the window. He dropped his bag and jacket on the floor before taking a seat next to the brunette. The Franchise swept a hand through his red hair before offering up a smile to his sweet and shy prey. “Hey you.”

The brunette was in her own little world as she sketched, eyes darting back and forth between the paper and her reference. The stack of books piled high on Mr. Phoenix’s desk had captured her attention almost immediately - the colorful spines of the many different works of Shakespeare were positioned in a way that was chaotic and precarious. It piqued her creative eye; one wrong move, and the whole tower would collapse.

As she focused on perfecting her rough drawing, she could see someone approach out of the corner of her periphery, dropping their belongings in her line of vision. She let her gaze drift over to the letterman jacket and the familiar name stitched onto the sleeve before looking up at the red haired boy with a timid smile.

She was still unsure exactly how it happened, but somehow she had been convinced to attend a party at the end of the last school year. Tatum rarely made appearances at such gatherings, and it showed - she hung out against the wall for the majority of the evening, just observing. She seemed to be one of the only people amongst the revelry that witnessed Theo’s messy breakup and she saw firsthand how torn up he was over the whole thing. She felt badly for him and couldn’t believe how careless his ex had been; Theo evidently cared so much about her but her addictive habits were the straw that finally broke the camel’s back.

So, the brunette did what anyone with a heart would do: she checked in on him. Sure, she wasn’t entirely convinced that he knew who she was, after all, he was the star of the Football team and she was but a mere wallflower, but for some reason, she couldn’t idly stand by. Thus started their unconventional (and unprecedented) friendship.

“Hey,” Tate greeted, twirling her pencil nervously between her fingers. “Big game happening tonight, or so I’ve been told. You must be excited.”

“Honestly? I don’t get too excited about these things any more.” Theo slipped his arm behind Tate’s chair and rested it on the back of it as he leaned deeply into his own. “I spend a lot of time training, doing drills, lifting weights, studying the plays etcetera but at the end of it all that I know that when it comes to the game itself, all that matters is I see my target and I make the first move.” He inched ever so slightly closer to the shy beauty as he spoke. “It’s pretty boring really.”

Theo looked at the quiet artist with subtle confidence. He had learned over the years how to keep up appearances and manage perception. It was a skill gleaned from the learning tree of his grandfather, a hell of a businessman and wiseman to many. His cousins, the Stratton twins, were unabashedly themselves and didn't care about what people thought. Theo was different, he knew that what people thought was the difference between success and failure and TVC never failed, it wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“I’ll tell you what would get me excited.” He began, his voice melting into her ear like butter, his words soft and smooth. “Seeing you in the bleachers. You really kept me sane this summer and I think having you front and centre…well how could I lose with you smiling at me?”

Tatum could feel her body tense as Theo placed his arm along the back of her chair, oh, so casually. She tried to pay attention to what he was saying, she really did, but it was hard to focus when she was so consciously aware of how close he was, how he seemed to be moving even closer.

Now, it wasn’t that she was uncomfortable. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Of course she found him attractive, you’d have to be blind not to see his inherent boyish charm. But it was difficult for her to believe that someone like him could even be remotely interested in someone like her, so she tried to play it off as just him being nice. After all, his breakup was still pretty recent. She knew who his friends were, knew who he associated with. He was in the spotlight when she kept to the shadows, and for good reason. Tatum couldn’t seem to put two and two together.

She fought back a blush as he mentioned wanting her to be at the game. “Oh, I uh… I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m going. Well, I wasn’t planning on it at least.” She continued fidgeting with the pencil in her grasp, “If I’m being honest, I haven’t been to a football game since well, never.”

“First time for everything isn’t there?” Theo could read the subtle movements of her fingers around the pencil, the tenseness of her shoulders. Tate wasn't used to this kind of attention but she didn’t hate it. The fluttering of her big blue eyes staring at him; she was flirting or trying to. It was cute.

She was cute.

Tatum was something different than the other girls at Beverly Hills. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that but she had spent years attempting to fly under the radar, to pass as one of them. The way she carried herself; hiding behind her overalls and bandanas, it was all an act. Maybe even she didn’t know it but Theo knew differently. He had been watching her, the same way he knew how to watch everyone else, to learn, to absorb their idiosyncrasies and their vibes. Knowing people was his business because if he knew them, he could control them and if he could control them, then there would be no stopping him.

Tate was the perfect first step in making his plan for the year happen.

“Listen; I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to or felt uncomfortable with.” Theo shifted his body to face her, giving their audience the nod that this was a “private conversation”. He reached over and placed hand on her arm gently, his puppy dog face smiling at her. “It’s just an invitation, that’s all. You’ve really helped me this summer and I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate you. There’ll be a seat at the front with your name on it. You don’t have to take it, I won’t be mad if you don’t but seeing you there, I reckon I might just play my heart out.”

Tatum felt herself growing a little warm with all of his attention focused on her. It was consuming, in a way, how he looked her directly in the eye, how he placed his hand reassuringly on her fair skin, how the rest of the classroom seemed to fade into the background as he spoke. This was a new feeling, one she had yet to experience.

Maybe, just maybe, this could be good for her.

The brunette swallowed, her throat having grown dry, “I mean, I guess I could try and convince JJ to come with me… I’ll see what I can do.” She smiled shyly, “No promises though, but I’ll try. It is our last homecoming after all.”

“That’s all I can ask.” The red haired boy softly let his finger trace her arm, just enough to entice and only lightly tickle. “Bring as many friends as you want. There’s likely to be a party afterwards, so we could all go together.” Theo knew how to reel her in. It was all in the way she carried herself. “It’d be like our two worlds coming together. Plus if you come, I just have to take you to this little place on the beach, I think you’d really like it. You’ll want to paint it immediately…” The Franchise lifted his hand up from her arm and gently moved it to her face. “Speaking of, you got a little paint just there.” He gently wiped and caressed her chin with his thumb. “There you go, all gone.”

Theo’s touch sent goosebumps up Tate’s arm. She willed herself to play it cool, to not show her cards, but she was absolutely certain he could tell she was getting a bit flustered. The blush she had willed away was now blooming on her cheeks as he wiped away the stray paint on her chin. Bashfully, she turned her head and looked down at her desk, “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not much for parties, so that one’s another hard maybe.” Tatum stated, taking a moment before lifting her gaze back to Theo, “Besides, won’t your friends think it’s a bit odd that we’ve started, well, hanging out all of a sudden?”

“Who cares what they think?” Everybody did. Everybody cares what they think. Theo’s friends were the Elite, the Hive Five, the Jocks, the God damn Illuminati, they controlled everything. “Plus, what’s there to care about? We’re friends, you helped me when I needed it and I really enjoy your company. Don’t worry about anything anybody else is doing, Tate.”

His plans were working even better than he’d hoped. Getting into Tatum’s head wasn’t really the big challenge but getting her to see the world through his eyes? The veil lifted? The rose tinted glasses broken? To get her to see those around them for what they were, empty vessels void of anything remotely considered human decency. Nepo babies and troglodytes destined for internet viral videos and brief sojourns onto reality tv.

Now that was the challenge he craved.

“But like I said, I’m not forcing you to do anything. It would just make me real happy to see you there, that’s all.”

It was easy for Theo to not have to worry about what everybody else was doing, he was at the top of the food chain and didn’t answer to any higher powers. But Tate lived her life in constant recognition that she was at the bottom of the totem pole - not that she minded being there, it was exactly where she wanted to be- and thus was always thinking about how other people perceived her. “If you say so…” Tatum replied doubtfully, moving to close her sketchbook.

The girl had made it her goal not to attract any unnecessary attention over the past four years. Her philosophy about high school was simple: get in, get shit done, keep her head down, and get out. It’s what had always worked for her, what she needed to do to get by. But for some reason, the prospect of being around someone in the limelight didn’t scare her as much as she thought it would. Maybe it was the way Theo was looking at her, actively choosing to notice her and get to know her, that opened her up to the idea of not standing on the sidelines. “No, I know, and I appreciate that. I’ll think about it, really.”

“Alright then.” Theo’s face was chipper. He knew that he had won. Even if her words were dripping with self doubt, he knew that a few more words from him through the day would send Tatum off the edge of the map and into his world. By the end of Homecoming, she would be his.

Too many people overthought everything, life really wasn’t that complicated. High school certainly wasn’t that complicated. It was survival of the fittest, a Serengeti or jungle with its own ecosystem and wildlife fighting and fucking until they were dying or dead and the rules of attraction were built in primal instincts embedded into their very core. Theo was the master of those rules.

“So.” He leaned back; giving the artist her own space back. It was like a taster; Tate had experienced his touch now, his presence, she would miss it, crave it, want him. “What are you working on? If you don’t mind me asking?”

Tate gave the red haired boy a soft smile, opening back up to the page she had been previously drawing on. She held the book out to him so he could take a closer look, “It’s nothing special, I just saw the stack of plays on Mr. Phoenix’s desk and thought it looked interesting.” The brunette watched Theo’s expression as he viewed the sketch, taking the opportunity to get a better look at the boy while he was preoccupied. She took in his muscular frame, the way his chest moved as he breathed, and how his hair brushed over his forehead and eyes. “Shakespeare inspired me today, I guess.”

“Shakespeare, really?” Theo’s eyes didn’t leave the page for a moment. He could feel her big blue eyes staring at him. He let her see everything. He balled his fist ever so lightly to tense the large muscles in his arm. “Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.” He held a pause long enough for his words to sink ever so slightly into her alabaster skin. Everything with purpose. He lifted his head to meet her smile with one of his own. “Yeah I know Shakespeare. Mom is a big fan. Surprised she never forced me to do theatre.”

Tatum tried to stifle a laugh, caught by surprise from his words, “I would have never taken you for a Shakespeare enthusiast, guess you learn something new everyday.” She commented, mentally noting his choice of quote and the fact it was a deeper cut than your average ‘a rose by any other name would smell as sweet’. The brunette motioned to the tower of books that she was referencing, “Caught my eye when I walked in. Something about it being stable yet unsteady, haphazard but also orderly, kind of spoke to me.” Tate shook her head, realizing she was probably giving him much more context than he desired. “Or it’s just a pile of books. Dealer’s choice.”

Theo leaned his chin onto a balled up fist to look deeper at her, “You basically just described this entire class.” He chuckled lightly. “You know that right?” Tate carried an energy that not many of those that he actually knew possessed. Most of his friends, if you could even call them that, were vapid and plastic, Theo knew this. He knew by association he may be viewed as such but he did enough to differentiate himself from the norm, it seemed, at least to him, that Tatum was the same. At least in her eyes anyway. “Then again maybe you’re right, maybe it’s just a dusty pile of old books but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So if you think there’s something there, there probably is. Connection can be an inexplicable and undeniable thing.”

“I mean,” Tatum looked around at their peers, contemplating Theo’s statement, “You’re not wrong, but I feel like there’s more to it than that.” She countered, returning her gaze to him. She placed her pencil down on the desk before clasping her hands together in her lap. “I probably sound a little bit crazy, but you learn a lot from just observing things. I’ve had nearly four years of practice,” A small laugh escaped her lips, referencing her quieter tendencies. “There’s always more to something than meets the eye.”

If only she knew. Theo too was a student of the human condition, probably more so than most. He had spent years learning body language, tone of speech, nervous tics, everything he could possibly read from a person he had studied so that he always had an advantage. Tatum didn’t have to know that though, she was trying to share with him. One of the things he had discovered is that women love to share, they love to just talk and they love it when they think you’re actually listening. “Oh really?” He increased his attentiveness, shifting his body around just a little more and leaning closer. “And what has all your observation told you about me, Tate?”

The brunette looked at him, really looked at him. If he had asked her that question before this summer, she would have cited him as the typical Elite archetype. She had seen him in the hallways between classes, joking with his friends and talking shop, and he always oozed confidence and privilege, the kind of guy who knew he was just that good. He was in league with Ethan Green and Jack McDonough, guys whose arrogance and ego preceded them. He fit in with them almost as easily as breathing, so she assumed he was just like them.

But he was asking her this post-summer, after she had seen him at quite possibly one of his lowest points. The girl was surprised with herself, someone normally so perceptive, at how she had put him into a specific box without scratching the surface, before she actually got to know him better. She was slowly realizing how wrong her previous observations were. “Honestly, I don’t know,” Tatum paused, a subtle smirk gracing her features, “Ask me some other time, I’m still trying to figure you out.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Theo took out the reading glasses from his letterman pocket and slipped them onto his face, letting his lips curl into a sweet, almost innocent smile. “It’s a date.” He was blessed by boyish looks, it was very hard to not smile with him. The Franchise knew how to turn it on and how to make them see what they needed to see. The glasses alone he didn’t actually need, they were all for show. A subtle way to pull those around him into security. It was a stereotype of course, the harmless glasses wearer but it was one that was ingrained into society that it was unavoidable. “I guess I better get my own list ready so I can read out and count all the reasons why I like you.”

A date.

Did she just hear him right? Tatum’s face went from playful to surprised in two seconds flat, an instant blush staining her porcelain skin. She quickly looked down at her clasped hands, hoping Theo wouldn’t see her visceral reaction to those three words he so nonchalantly stated, or how she somehow blushed more at the next sentence that flowed from his lips so freely. So maybe he wasn’t just trying to be nice… it seemed that he was genuinely interested in her. In her years at BHHS, she had never actually been asked out, always too much in the background to garner any admiration. Or, she would get asked out, but jokingly only because people thought she shared her mother’s well-known knack for debauchery.

Taking a breath, she lifted her head back up to Theo, biting her inner lip in an attempt to fight the smile that she so naturally wanted to show. She didn’t want to seem too eager or desperate. So as her baby blue eyes met his light brown gaze, she spoke softly, keeping her composure. “We’ll see.” The brunette picked back up her pencil and continued to draw, paying no mind to the way her heart was racing.

It was all there, the ringing of the hands, the subtle lip bite that she didn’t want him to notice; the smile. She was his. He had led the horse to water and it was oh so easy to make her drink. “I suppose we better start paying attention otherwise people are gonna start to think I’m a bad influence on you.” Theo smiled that damned smile. It was a mirror to the lips of a rattlesnake, enticing and deadly in equal measure. One just couldn’t look away. Theo was the apex predator of Beverly Hills High. He was Godzilla. He was King Kong; and he had found this night's prey, her name was Tatum.

He was going to ruin her.
In BHHS: Limitless → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay






Odina was in that beautiful place between awake and asleep. She couldn’t open her eyes, lest she lose the visage of perfection which she was dreaming of. She couldn’t move too far in the bed or the perfect warmth that enveloped her skin. Odina’s hand reached across the bed to feel the warmth of the body that lay next to her, or that should be next to her. Nothing. She realised that she couldn’t feel any kind of dip in the mattress either, there was no one there but still; she didn’t want to open her eyes.

Then she felt it.

That unmistakable, unexplainable aura.

It sucked her in the previous night. Down by the beach, Odina saw those peroxide golden waves and that style all her own. Those big painted lips and a vibe that made absolutely no sense yet perfect sense at the same time. She’d heard the rumours of the manic pixie who was undeniable but she never thought she would ever meet her, let alone be seduced by her but yet she was and it was so damn good.

From beneath the bed, a mess of bleached hair rose up slowly, big blue eyes smiling down as Odina refused to awaken properly. Leaning in, she lowered her face closer. “Addie is about to go on the lamb.” She kissed Odie’s nose, causing the Hawaiian girl to sit bolt upright; headbutting the pint sized drug dealer and sending her crashing into a nearby desk. A photo came crashing down on top of her head.

Adelaide Davies-Jones was anything but normal but what was normal anyway? To look at her, the tiny girl was obviously very pretty, model-esque she had been told but her grunge aesthetic of torn tights, bomber jackets and baggy t-shirts vastly contrasted her almost valley-girl physical form. Then a further juxtaposition was her temperament. Even those who had never met Addie knew that she was absolutely crazy, hopped up on who knows what and completely non-stop. Yet she was absolutely utterly charming and intoxicating. It was hard not to love her.

As Odina leapt out of the bed to check on the blonde who was simply staring at the photo that had landed on her. “Shit me, is this your Dad? I thought this was like fucking Dwayne Johnson, holy fuck!” As the girl wrapped her arms around her to check she was ok, Addie couldn’t help but inhale. ”Wow, you smell really fucking good.”

Odie giggled, this girl truly was something else. It was hard to tell if she was even real. “Thanks honey and I’m glad you’re ok but you'll have to get out of here soon, my Dad no doubt just heard that clatter and he..erm…”

”He doesn’t know you're gay does he?” This was not Adelaide’s first rodeo. Over the years she had been many women’s first dip of the toe in the waters of sapphic glory. She didn’t mind it, in all honesty. Addie had known since she was very young who she was, what she liked and loved. Being sure of herself, some would call it delusional or overconfidence but she just was happy in her own skin and she knew not everyone felt the same. That’s why being used didn’t bother her, everyone had their own path to follow. ”I guess Addie’s work here is done. If ever you feel the need to hop on the good foot and do the bad thing, call me!” Pulling herself to her feet, she placed her the picture frame back on the desk and made her way to the window. She cracked it open and turned to sit on the ledge, gazing at Odina one more time. ”God your boobs are fan-fucking-tastic. Please call, I wanna smush em again. Catch ya later sexy.” With that, Addie flung herself backwards out of the window and down into the bushes below.

Emerging from the shrubbery, Adelaide dusted off her jacket as she looked around the unfamiliar neighbourhood she found herself in. It was still early and she needed to get to school before the bell. Her phone was dead, of course, so there was no way to call for help. There was no Uber or Lyft in her future. Dallas was a no go, her other sisters DJ, PJ and JJ had all probably left anyway. The PLC was likely already high. Addie could miss school but she really didn’t want to. She had learned prior to the summer that she was a few credits short for her college applications. The problem was, Addie was a genius. She really was. Much of school came so easy that she just didn’t try and now she was suffering for it. The goal was simple, this year she was going to be better and she was going to make all the strides possible so she could graduate and get the doctorate she so desired.

Now the bigger problem was finding a way to Beverly Hills in time for the first bell. Addie scanned the area for a bus stop or a taxi rink but this place was way to white picket suburban hell for that. Across the street, a young boy was wheeling his bicycle out of his garage, probably about to start his early morning paper round. There it was, Addiezms exit from the river Styx. She hurried across the street and waved to the youngster. “Hey can I borrow your bike? I promise it’s for nothing weird I just need to get to school.”

The little boy looked at the girl who was barely taller than him with a tilted head. There was something about the look on her face that felt incredibly innocent and genuine. He did not say a word as he pushed the bike forward into her waiting hands. Would he regret this? Probably. But she seemed sweet and gosh she sure was pretty…

“You are fucking amazeballs and Addie appreciates you little person to little person. Go buy yourself a biscuit!” Sticking her hand into her jacket pocket, Addie rummaged around trying to find any money that she might have, ”Aaah, here we go. Take this.” She handed the child a hundred dollar bill and saluted him as she spun the bike on its back end to wheel it down the driveway. The life of a drug baron wasn't a bad life. Then again Addie didn’t outright sell it, she grew it for the PLC, who then sold it. The pixie just got a cut of the profits.

Addie took a blunt from behind her ear and placed it delicately between her lips before lighting it and jumping onto the bike. The sad thing was she became an expert bike rider since her Mom took her moped away. All she did was take it to Vegas for a weekend, it’s really not that big a deal but noooooo, the Doctor just had to stick her stupid face into it and take Addie’s licence away. Her Mom sucked, she missed her Gamma. She understood Addie better than anyone. It was actually her Grandmother, the best psychologist in Massachusetts, who diagnosed Addie with ADHD and Hypersexuality. Her mother Wednesday was just happy to now have a label to explain her daughter's behaviour. Adelaide just thought it made her sound cooler than the voice of Matt Berry.

It took her a while but after what felt like an age, Addie managed to find herself on the right track towards school. However before she got there, she needed food, ya girl had the munchies. Stopping off at a breakfast joint about two minutes away from BHHS. She hopped off the still in motion bike and sauntered into the dinner, joint still hanging from her mouth. “Who does Addie have to screw to get some pancakes to go around here?…” Immediately as she said that a new waitress walked by and the big blue eyes of the suicide blonde widened intensely. “Oooh please let it be you.”

After being kicked out of the diner, with her pancakes of course, Addie knew the manager, she made the brisk walk towards the school, abandoning the bike she had borrowed. Arriving at the window outside of room 105, the rugby blondes wrapped her fists on the glass, awaiting one of her peers to open it up. Adelaide did not like doors. Doors let the monsters in. She was aware of how silly her fear was and she could and did use doors a lot but if a window was nearby, she’d much rather go through that. As for why she hated those room blockers? Well she wasn’t high enough to talk through that shit.

When the window above her opened ever so slightly, Addie took it as a sign. Grasping her last pancake between her teeth, she jumped up and grasped onto the ledge before pulling herself through the now fully open window. She dragged herself across her classmates desk before dropping onto the floor. She looked up at her disapproving peer and flashed the bird. ”YOU ARE NOT MY SUPERVISOR!”
In BHHS: Limitless → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



TRIGGER WARNING: POLITICS/RACIAL UNDERTONES


“Yo, let me talk to ya.”

Isaiah Strickland gazed at himself in the mirror, holding his hair brush in his dominant left hand, his walls adorned with his political dreams fading away in lew of a sold out crowd of like minded young men and women who wanted what he wanted, who felt what he felt and shared his vision. He looked out at their faces and saw the future, a better future for the world and everyone in it and everyone yet to arrive in it. This was the song, his one shot to make a mark.

“If you got no critics, you’ll get no success;
Don’t shoot yet son, don’t stress son,
Truth is on the side ‘o’ the oppressed
Be a Red man, yellow man, God be a black man,
Don’t matter what, just be a good man.

Don’t throw away your shot,
You got one, take aim, give it everything that ya got.
Don’t fire on your people, fire on society
Broker change, make it better, now that’s a priority.

Guns don’t kill people, black motherfuckers with guns kill people.
You see that on the news, you read that in the paper.
Don’t take that shit, it’s my world, your world, we’re the ones that gonna shape her”


“ZAY! YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE!”

A shrill voice cut through Isaiah’s daydream, almost causing him to stumble backwards over his textbooks. Steadying himself, Zay shook himself free of his fantasy and let his eyes fall upon the alarm clock on his bedside table. The wailing banshee downstairs was one hundred percent right he was going to be late! Scrambling around his room, the aspiring activist swiftly gathered some red and black clothes to stuff into his bag for the homecoming uniform before tossing it over his bare shoulder. As he prepared to exit, Isaiah picked an envelope up off his cluttered desk and stuffed it into his joggers pocket before leaving the room.

”Wooooooow, we get it Zay, you’ve been working out over the summer. Put a shirt on you whore.” Peri was Isaiah’s older sister. The only daughter of his father Tony. She graduated the year prior but had yet to do anything with her life, claiming a gap year. Most days she worked the phones at their Dad’s bespoke furniture company and then spent the evenings and weekends in the company of who the hell knows? She was her own person and Zay wasn’t her keeper. “Who’re you trying to impress huh? My baby brother got a crush? She teased as she took a bite out of her toast.

Isaiah shook his head as he picked up his earbuds from the kitchen counter top, narrowly avoiding a piping hot butter splash from Peri’s breakfast; the girl had no spatial awareness. “My business is my business, Peri. Same as yours is yours. But I know you’re just going to keep probing. I’m on a health drive at the minute so I’m jogging to school. Nothing more to it than that. Which also means you can take my car to work, you know if you actually decide to go. I’m assuming both dads have already left?”

Peri pouted her painted plump lips. Zay knew her too well. She was going to ask for the car tonight anyway so this worked out in her favour. ”Yas, Queen. Daddy Rich asked me to remind you to call…shit I forgot. What was that name?”

Sighing, Isaiah placed an earbud in as he looked at his older sister. “Montez. He wants me to call Montez. If you go in today, tell him I’ll do it when I get a chance. I’m booked up with tutoring and basketball and stuff. Don’t work too hard, Peri. Love you.” He popped the second bud into his ear and began to walk out of the house.

”Love you too, you fucking dingus. Go get laid! It’ll loosen you up!”

2Pac’s banger played in Zay’s ear as he ran down and out of his street and towards the school. As the heat in his body began to rise and the thin layer of sweat began to form, Isaiah had a thousand and one things on his mind. This was not unusual for him but normally those thoughts were centred around his grades and school. Recently though, there’s been a shift in his mentality.

Like the song was saying, all eyes were on him. When it came to his two dads, Tony and Richie, they had a lot of expectation on Zay and with graduation round the corner there was no doubt they would be piling on the pressure. They wouldn’t mean to, they weren’t troublesome parents by any means, in fact they were incredibly supportive of anything Zay did. Yet his grades were some of the highest in his class and his politically charged persona embodied Ivy League like nobody else. They wanted him to be a valedictorian; Isaiah meanwhile, wasn’t sure he wanted that.

Then there was the thing Peri said about having a crush. She wasn’t exactly wrong. For the last three years, Zay had very much flown under the radar of all the social cliques and houses. He was nice enough for everyone to get along with but not bold enough for anyone to take notice of. He had dedicated himself to his classes, his extracurriculars like teaching the ASL class, tutoring and basketball. It was cliche but Isaiah hadn’t really had the true high school experience of hooking up, dating, falling in love, having your heart broken or making what one could consider a true friend. This year he wanted to change that. This year he wanted his cake and to eat it too. He wanted to get the grades, get his petitions signed and he wanted to be noticed, he wanted someone to see him, the real him from behind the clipboard. So he had been walking out and he had freshened up his style. It was a new year but it wasn't a new Isaiah, just the real one.

As he rounded a corner, Zay narrowly avoided a woman with a child. He nodded politely in apology before carrying on his run. Seeing her, it reminded him of the biggest challenge on his mind, the one that felt like a noose around his neck, waiting to hang him for treason. The letter in his pocket, a note which arrived several weeks into the summer vacation from a man called Montez Bell; Isaiah’s birth father, or so he claimed. Zay had only ever met one member of his blood family and that was his mothers mother, Granny Hobbs, whom he still visited to this day. He knew next to nothing about his father, Granny wouldn’t share much, just his name.

Obviously as a child of adoption, there were huge parts of Zay that wanted to teach out, connect with the man and find out answers to all the questions he has had since he was six years old and his dads sat him down to tell him the real truth about his origins. Then there was the other part of him that didn't want to know. He had a good thing going, two Dads that loved him, a sister that loved him and yet curiosity was eating away at his gut like a disease. Identity. He wanted to know what his was; there had to be more to Isaiah than even he knew. Speaking to his father could be a way to find out.

Isaiah arrived in the parking lot with a decent amount of time to spare. He glanced up at the monster that was Beverly Hills High, his bare chest heaving as he caught his breath. He was getting some stares and looks but that was fine; it was what he wanted. New year, real me. He waved at an approaching vehicle which he knew contained the Hive Five for no other reason than being polite. Zay then quickly made a swift beeline to a bathroom to switch into his actual wear for the day which was a pair of black jeans and a white polo with a thin black cardigan with red trimmings. No one could say Isaiah wasn’t showing his school spirit. He left the bathroom with his bag and made his way towards his homeroom, it was time to quiet the overpowering and overwhelming noise in his head and focus.

Easier said than done.

Most of the kids in his class he had known for years, there were none that he could really say he had gotten close to. For a long time he had convinced himself it was because they wouldn’t let him in. In actuality, the more likely scenario was that Zay wouldn’t let them in. He was too guarded, too tightly wound. All that mattered was proving to his parents that he was worth the chance they had taken on him. Now he was going in with a fresh mind set and a new purpose. This year wasn’t going to be different. This year was going to be the best ever.

He was gonna graduate.
He was going to make friends.
Maybe he was even going to find love?
All that was for sure was that nothing was for sure.

And for Isaiah, that was fucking terrifying.
In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay















In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TIMESTAMP: Right after Risky Business
@BrutalBx & @LovelyComplex
TRIGGER WARNING -
Sexual harassment, Invasion of privacy

____________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________



____________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________

It had become a ritual;

To watch her.

Theo hadn’t realised it until recently but it was a ritual that he had been doing all his life. As far back as he could remember he would wake up in the morning for the rise of the sun, ready for the intense physical training with his father, legendary basketball player, “KVC” himself Kip Van Cise. He would wake up, go immediately for a run and then lift weights in the garage until it was time to get ready for school. Then, as he ascended the outside stairs that led to the upper floor, Theo would look to the raised window behind him and she would be there.

Trixie would be in that room, across the small patch of perfectly manicured emerald grass and the white picket fence that separated their homes and she would be there standing like a vision of the goddess. And he would watch. He would see her flick her hair back; choose her armour for the day's coming battle, apply her warpaint and get into the character of Trixie Kingsley. Bea, as he knew her.

It was a ritual.

The drive to Beverly Hills High in his classic 1969 Chevy Stingray felt longer than it normally did. Maybe it was the air of trepidation acting like a fog around him that Theo couldn’t cut through. His breakup pre-summer was big news, of course it was, he was the Franchise. Yet it didn’t feel like it was that. No, something else was weighing on his broad shoulders. It could’ve been that Bronwyn had gotten more annoying and was so excited for her junior year. Theo loved his little sister dearly but she just could not stop talking; that might be part of it. The reality was that he had deemed his senior year, his year. Theo was going to take what he wanted and give nothing back and there was something that he had had his eye on, something he had been wanting for a while and absolutely nothing was gonna stop him.

“Love you! Have a great day!”

Bronwyn was an angel on Earth, a pearly white smile and eyes like diamonds which she stole from their father the day she was born. Theo looked like his Mom. She was naive to the world in which they grew up, protected by a light that their mother shone onto her. He was not, he saw everything for what it was; an opportunity, an army of the damned souls who didn’t know that they were already dead.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Theo waved back with a smile for his sister before he climbed out of the driver's seat and locked up his vehicle. He had kept the same parking spot since he got his car. It was a prime location, perfect to people watch, to learn and soak in all the new information and gossip that he would no doubt use to continue his reign over the deluded Nepo babies that he was surrounded with. In the distance, he could see the unmistakable flaming red hair of his cousin Tallulah and her twin Alexandria; the Strattons. No doubt the two were up to some mischief. Unlike him, they wore what they did on their sleeves. One day it would bite them in their asses and as much as he enjoyed their company, he couldn’t wait to see it happen.

As he entered the school and walked the hallways of his empire, Theo’s dark eyes caught sight of Trixie rushing into a disabled bathroom with a drawstring bag that she had pulled from her nearby locker. Now that was interesting. She was moving very fast, in a rush into a room she had no business being in. What pray tell was she doing? Well now he had to know, time was there to be killed after all? Theo stepped through the crowd, shaking the hands and patting the shoulders of his adoring public until enough of their time was wasted on him and their focus redirected onto the next athlete or popular kid that followed behind. With their glares elsewhere, the redhead slipped down the side hall and followed Trixie into the bathroom.

He made a point of slamming the door behind him, a smirk curling across his round face as he locked eyes with a bare chested Trixie. “Well well, what do we have here? My Bea caught doing something she shouldn’t be?”

Involuntarily, goosebumps made their presence known on her skin. Trixie would curse under her breath for rushing to change and forgetting to lock the door but she was caught off guard. She didn’t even think she’d be here long since all she was going to do was put a black halter top on and a comfortable sweater. Instead she held her shirt close to her chest and turned to face away from her ex. The anxiety that was now residing in the pit of her stomach caused her heart to race. She couldn’t think straight but the last thing she should do was show a sign of weakness.

Woefully unprepared, Trixie tried to steady her breathing. They hadn’t been this close in years. The only time they were in close proximity was when they had to be because of class or walking past one another in the halls. She had no idea what motivated him to do this and quite frankly, she was not going to stand for it. This was not proper for a gentleman, a boy, or a person in general. Get it together, Trix. Don’t let him have the upperhand. Rushing to put her top on, she hissed, “What the fuck are you doing in here, Teddy?” Once her chest was covered she turned to face him, harshly. “Did your mom not teach you common sense?”

“We both know that neither of us are common.” Theo could see the residual bumps on her arms from when he entered. This was Beverly Hills, the cold didn’t exist here. Those goosebumps were for him, they always were. No matter what they would always be connected to one another, they had been all their lives. “We’re Elite. We’re superior stock.” His dark hazelnut eyes softly looked over her body, he couldn’t help but think of the image that she had just hidden from him. “We’re thoroughbreds.” Taking a step deeper into the room, Theo allowed his bag to fall to the floor before placing his hands into the front pockets of his dark jeans. “Which begs the question, why you, Trixie Kingsley, would allow for something like that to happen?” He pointed with his gaze to the dirty top she had dropped onto the floor. “How could you even let them get that close?”

Theo leaned back against the door, his broad muscular frame blocking it almost in its entirety. Some would consider him pound for pound the strong boy at BHHS, there was a reason TVC was the highest touted linebacker in the country. He was built like an army tank with a Ferrari engine. “I say this because I love you Bea but I think you might be losing your touch. They’re not scared of you anymore.”

Her lips pursed and her eyebrows furrowed the more he talked and invited himself in her space, like he was entitled to it. Standing her ground, not stepping back, even if she wanted to, Trixie coldly stared at her boy next door, getting increasingly angrier by the second. The more he talked, the more annoyed she got. Yet, behind that icy gaze, behind those beautiful, brown eyes of comforting childhood memories, there was hurt and fear of being vulnerable. There was confusion and bewilderment. There was love. Staying levelled, trying her best to not show her conflicted emotions, she admitted, “I don’t want them to be scared of me. That was never my intention, and you know that.”

Her mission was and always will be to continue her parents’ legacy and make sure Beverly Hills High had an environment that not only challenged herself and her peers but catered to everyone’s potential. She simply added her own twist to it. Be informed. Stay informed. Information was power. She wanted to be inspirational, not scary. Relatable, not out of touch. Resourceful, not vindictive. The only reason why she dived deep into journalism was because she liked knowing things, which avoided backdoor conversations, and she liked to keep her peers in the know so those like The Elite and the Hive Five couldn’t use information against them. Gossip and news go hand in hand. Today's gossip is tomorrow’s headline and she wanted to be the one with the story. Trixie swore to do her due diligence to not misinform her classmates and if she could, she’d be a shield, in her own way.

Jamie, however, was a bit more underhanded and perhaps she did let him get away with more than she probably should. The podcast didn’t help. It was their place to dive into their articles or share things they didn’t write about and she wasn’t going to lie… when she was with Jamie, she couldn’t help but be a little catty. That’s just how they’ve always been together but when she wrote, she came from a genuine and authentic place. She wasn’t here to ruin anyone. Her articles made her look good on paper and ultimately reached someone that would be grateful for the intel. Gossip was a tool to distract people from themselves, nothing more nothing less, and she wanted to be the one in the driving seat, steering that asset in the right direction.

Truth be told, Trixie didn’t know why she was even entertaining a conversation with her ex in the handicap bathroom but he cornered her like a predator corners his prey. The only way out was forward and right now he was barricading the door with his muscular physique. “Is this all you wanted? To tease me and say I’ve lost my touch?” She began to worry. Not because of the close proximity she was with Teddy but because of the rumours that could spiral if they were caught exiting the bathroom together. She thought she made herself clear. They both were not right for each other and they were kids when they decided to date. They should focus on themselves, getting themselves right and leaving any feelings they had for one another in the past. They had their careers to worry about. Not each other. As she hugged herself, she tightened her hold. She wanted to ask him: what do you want? But instead, she mumbled under her breath, “I love you too, Teddy…” Breaking eye contact with Theo, she waited for all this to be over so she could get to homeroom and forget how awful her morning was and continues to be.

“Come now, Bea…” Theo took another step into the room, his hands leaving his pockets as he did and placing them firmly onto Trixie’s shuddering arms. “You’re not scared of me, are you?” He asked rhetorically, knowing full well the answer. Everyone was scared of him, as they had every right to be. We’re told as children that monsters don’t exist and that much is true but what we’re not told is that people can be far worse than the things that go bump in the night. “You know teasing is my love language.” His fingers danced tenderly over the skin, feeling her warmth enter through their tips and directly into his body like a concentrated hit of a strong narcotic immediately into his bloodstream.

Their love, if you could even call it that, was barely a flash in the pan. Nine months of what Theo considered bliss. Then again he didn’t have much to compare it to at the time. All he had ever truly known was pressure, so much pressure. Trixie was meant to be the escape from that, she was supposed to be his emergency exit from the hell from which he was birthed and lived in every day. He remembered when his mother would smile and giggle when she would watch the two of them play house as children. The expectation that they would be together was not lost on him but that didn’t bother Theo too much because as far as he was concerned his feelings for Bea were real. At least until she tore out his heart and shredded it with her heel.

He smiled softly, sweetly even. Theo Van Cise’s blood ran colder than the snows of an Alaskan tundra but his face disarmed all that bore witness to him. He was pretty, round cheeked and did not possess a harsh face that would reflect the beast that had grown inside the pit of his stomach. “I just wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful today.” He took a piece of her dark hair between his fingertips and held it aloft between their faces. “I mean you always do, you know that, I don’t have to tell you.”

A gesture like this used to cloud her senses and make her melt. A gesture like this, and his gentle, musky scent, used to bring her to attention. A gesture like this used to get her to giggle in embarrassment and turn into a blushing bride. Things were different now and the somersaults happening inside of her was not because of innocent butterflies but out of anxiety and concern. Her dad taught her about the 333, to pull her out of this state. She was a lover, yes, but she was also a fighter. The 333. Name three things you see, three things you hear, and three parts of your body.

What did she see?

Theodore’s eyes. His hand that played with her hair. His smirk. That malicious smirk that pretended to be soft and kind. Theodore was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

What did she hear?

His breathing. Her breathing. The muttered noises outside the bathroom of their peers rushing to homeroom. She wasn’t alone with him, not really. Just out that door, there were people and if she wanted to, she could scream. She could make her location known. She could get away.

And three parts of her body?

Her hands.

Beatrix found herself letting go, no longer crossing her arms, and gently grabbing his hand, placing it on her cheek. She looked at him with empathy and regret. She still cared about him. That would never change.

Her chest.

Flirtatiously, she fluttered her eyelashes and made prolonged eye contact. Inching closer, Trixie gave him a nice view of her petite form. A body he used to embrace often. A body he wished he tasted. A body that wasn’t his. He had an even better view of her cleavage. She wanted him to. With her new top, there was plenty for him to see. With her face inches away from his, he could see her lips. Those lips he used to kiss.

“I like when you tell me things like that,” she whispered, using her femininity to her advantage. She might be a good girl but if she really wanted to, she could be bad… She was Beatrix Kingsley. She knew her worth.

Her knee.

In quick fashion, Trixie forcibly brought her knee to his groin, making sure she aimed right for the balls. With the fight response activated, she shoved her ex out of the way and decided her backpack and her dirty clothes were not as important as her safety. Operating under the impression that if she allowed their time together to last any longer, he would hurt her, she cursed, “Next time you do this shit, I’m getting a restraining order, asshole!” And she left the bathroom, leaving Theo to think about his actions. She didn’t stop until she found herself under the stairs by the back entrance, a place where kids smoked. When she noticed no one there, she dropped to the floor and observed her shaking hands. She wanted to cry. What the fuck is wrong with him? The Theo she knew would never do something like that, but that was the thing, wasn’t it?

He wasn’t the Theo she knew.

Teddy was dead. He was the Franchise. And that was entirely her fault.

“Fuck me…” she muttered, finding stability against the wall. She hugged her knees and buried her face, letting the fear pass her by. She needed to get her shit together. The last thing she wanted was someone to spread fake news or worse, tell people she was weak. Trixie wasn’t weak. She was a bad bitch and she was going to keep it that way. But first, she needed to compose herself so she can smile and act like what just happened, didn’t. Everything was going to be okay. She was okay.

She was okay.

Theo knelt on the floor in agony but he was smiling, by God he was smiling. This was her chance, he wanted to give it to her out of the goodness of his heart. She could’ve saved it all if she had just let herself feel what she wanted to feel but typical Bea, stubborn to the last. Now everything was going to burn and it was all her fault. Pulling himself back up to his feet using the nearby sink, Theo’s eyes shifted to the pile of clothes and the bag she had left behind. They were the perfect representation of what had occurred to his Bea. She had shed her skin and transformed, though through her chrysalis she had not become a butterfly. No, she had become something else entirely.

She was one of them.

As his grip on the sink tightened, Theo could feel it begin to peel away from the wall. If he wanted to he could rip it straight out and throw it around as if it was nothing, it was within his power to do so. Yet he chose not to. Appearances, as they say, were everything and he was the Franchise. It was time to put his game face on. Gathering himself with a deep breath, Theo picked up his own bag and slung it back over his shoulder before grabbing Trixie’s things and bundling them up together. He exited the bathroom and grabbed a freshman by the shoulder. “Hey, get these cleaned up and make sure they get to Trixie Kingsley, ok?” He pushed the items into the pizza faced lads hand and pulled him an inch closer. “If you don’t, I’m gonna break your jaw. Run along, get out of here. Shooo.”

Pushing the child away, Theo surveyed the chaos around him. He gave her a chance; now someone else would have to deal with it, with him. And he had the perfect person in mind.

He couldn’t wait for Homeroom.
In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay








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