CaliforniaState

Discontinued

@Prisk

It’s alright I got her in my sights now.

Discontinued

@Prisk

Smh Hanna really gunning for me early.

Discontinued

Also @Salsa Verde back in high school, how obvious would Meir's crush on Freya have been to Sara?

@banjoanjo

If you want to add a layer to their friendship then Sara knew and could have probably tried to help him. Otherwise she could have had her suspicions. Either one I would be totally fine with!

Discontinued

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

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

MEIR MAGGID █ act one: way down we go p. johnson's @nodogs@Prisk@sweven7 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

How many seconds were in a minute? 60, How many minutes in an hour? 60 How many hours in a day? 24 The math kept compounding in his head until he got to what felt like the end of time and space. But as everything around him was happening so fast it felt like he had been frozen in place. Being able to see every drip of sweat stain his clothes and bead on his forehead. His throat was dry, so dry, it almost seemed painful to lick his lips since they felt like two pieces of sandpaper. ”Just take a deep breath, remember your exercises", these novel exercises revolved around Hebrew prayers. Even though he fell out of faith with his religion there was still a slight comfort on falling back on something familiar to get him through social interactions. His lungs filled his air, regaining confidence in the steps that were deficient upon first entering PJ’s. Meir felt kind of bad for scaring Jack, but it was kind of comforting to know she remembered him, why wouldn’t she? Hanna was the third one to appear, in all her influencer glory, Meir would be lying if his curiosity didn’t get the better of him the three months before the meeting. He scrolled and scrolled for hours sifting through the carefully curated socials everyone had made since graduation. He was surprised that she didn’t have a line of paparazzi following her every move. She hadn’t aged a day, he wasn’t sure if that was from natural beauty or the layers of make up and facial care routines that were probably free from sponsors. “Yeah, it just didn’t feel real for a second” he coughed, “but how are you, Hanna? Seems like the years have been good to you.” Before he could get any further with Jack and Hanna another eerily familiar voice rang through his head causing another chill to run down his neck. It seemed like God really wanted to send him his biggest fans. Connor Sangster, the living embodiment or Ritman, and everything Meir thought he wanted to be when he was younger. While he didn’t bully him as much as he once thought, their relationship was still a little more tenuous than the generic jock vs bully trope. Having what felt like war flashbacks, Jacks hushed whispers fell on deaf ears, he had only wished he had gotten his own snarky come back before Jack did. Regardless he did laugh while he noticed Lucas casually slip in somewhat undetected into a booth adjacent to the entrance. His smile faded once a tinge of guilt coursed through his body, something he had still been beating himself up over 7 years after. Meir should have been a better friend and focused more on his relationship with Lucas than staying one step ahead of Sara Zhou. Which coincidentally conjured her up next. The urge to order a second drink was already pressing against the inside of his skull. Sara also hadn’t aged whatsoever, but she did seem to elevate her already good sense of style along with her make up. She was probably the only person he kept in touch with post-graduation, well for a few months before they kind of ghosted each other. Should he go over? Was it too late to make amends with both of them? Meir turned back to Hanna, Jack, and Connor. “One whiskey sour please” he ordered, looking past Jack to the bartender. “I think we’re still missing a few more people that interacted with your posts at least. Maybe we should you know, gather together like a reunion. Maybe PJs is too small for this?” he suggested before the newest arrival stopped right past the doorway, Freya Brigham, his high school crush. There was a small pang in his chest, but it seemed just as childish now as it was back then. “Make that two whiskey sours please.” This was going to be a long reunion. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Discontinued

Will get a post up later tonight pending levels of exhaustion.

Discontinued

Double post but whatever. Loving the posts thus far.

Discontinued

I have two more finals but otherwise I’m vibing and ready to post again

Discontinued

@Sweven7

Haha that’s actually pretty hilarious. I would say absolutely! Meir right at the end of his high-school career found that attending SAT’s and doing exams for cash could kind of shift the power balance a bit more in his favor. Maybe he even helped Connor get into the super prestigious school he wanted to go to he wouldn’t have been able to otherwise on just a sports scholarship or something. If you want to make it spicy the two could have almost had been caught and the schools changed the way students attend testing events thereafter.

Discontinued

A bit obvious but the IC is up so feel free to post whenever the inspiration strikes you!

Discontinued

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

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

MEIR MAGGID █ act one: way down we go cambridge, mass ▸ p. johnson's Interacting with @nodogs ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Thump…Thump…Thump Sitting in a spinny chair rocked all the way back with his feet leisurely lifted on his desk sat none other than Meir Maggid. He had been steadily tossing a handball, one of which his students left behind, against the chalkboard. His laptop was open with Spotify shuffling through one of his several hundred carefully curated playlists for this specific event. Papers and books laid out in a splayed mess covering any visible portion of the desk. He wasn’t just playing catch with himself, rather he had written several languages equally spaced out from one on another on the chalkboard. Whatever the ball hit is whatever language he had to shout a sentence in. He was at this for about an hour now and he had already recited his grocery list, school schedule, and the names of his student rosters for the last five years. There wasn’t much else to do since he taught one lecture twice a week. It was quite a perk being the youngest professor at the University. The music paused before a bell rung from his mac and Siri spoke, ”Who wants to come down and watch ur childhood get hit with a wrecking ball? Booze will be involved—unlock to read the full notification". Meir nearly fell out of his chair when he heard the message, more so after the ball came back and hit him square in the head since he wasn’t ready to catch it. Recollecting himself he scurried to his notifications and opened Facebook. It was rather weird to still have Facebook in 2022 the year of our lord, but how else was he going to know of things like this. He read on in pensive thought. To be honest his knee jerk reaction was a snide laugh before he closed the mac and shook his head. There was no way he was going to go back to that place or those people. Carefully convincing himself in a semi hurried pace he stopped dead with pupils creeping to the corner of his eyes back at the closed mac. In a frantic panic he ripped it open once more before entering his credentials. Why was he even friends with Jack on Facebook? Yeah, she didn’t bully him, but she wasn’t exactly his friend either. It must have just been automatic when he joined the 'Ritman High Class of 2015' group, either way it seemed strange for her to be the one to kick it off. As much as he didn’t want to go, he was becoming increasingly open to the notion. “Fuck it” he said as he liked the post and RSVP’d. If anything, this would be the perfect opportunity to show his glow up both physically and financially, to everyone who peaked in Highschool anyways. After a gentle reminder a month later and then three weeks before the event, Meir knew he was going to go regardless, it also helped that a majority of the class cancelled almost immediately. I guess people weren’t too attached or rather were waiting on the infamous 20 year instead. The time capsule made him more curious as to what could have possibly been buried with them. ”Welcome to Delton” the small city sign read as Meir gripped the steering wheel harder ever so slightly. Luckily he could cancel class and his students wouldn’t protest in the least; with his responsibilities out of the way he pulled into a familiar sight, P.J.’s. In the seven years since he graduated, absolutely nothing had changed or aged it. He looked himself once over before checking the clock, 4:30 pm, punctual as per usual. He stopped at the door, taking one deep breath before entering the bar. Looks like he was the first one to show up, that or he had jus forgotten what everyone looked like. Calvin didn’t recognize him when he came in and for that Meir didn’t blame him. “Whiskey sour please and leave the tab open” he requested politely. He took the glass and napkin in tow to one of the booths while he waited for it to hit 5. He scrolled up and down the group page, constantly refreshing, checking to see if anyone else had cancelled. If the last of the 8 were going to show, then things were going to be anything but boring. Ten minutes passed before he saw the back of Jack as she graciously glided into the bar with a massive metal capsule placed on the bartop. He choked a bit on his ice from the realization trying to regain his composure. Stuck between whether to approach her or not he resigned to eavesdropping instead. She scanned the room but missed him, figured. Looking for the right words to say he stood up and started for the bar. Before he could grab her attention, the notification chiming on his phone rung out first, as she had just finished tagging him in the latest update. Shit. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔