Grimoire Gaming

For Queen and Country

SURIEL

𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Dr. Suriel Anne White

𝗔𝗚𝗘
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Early 30’s. (Ageless)

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Seven years ago, when Suriel first arrived, their hair fell chin-length in soft yellow curls. Now they wear it cropped short on the sides, longest on top, and platinum blond in color. Bright blue-green eyes stare in stark contrast to a pale white complexion. As far as style goes, Suriel is just as likely to be seen wearing a suit and tie as they are a dress, it's whatever they prefer that day, really. They are always well-dressed for any occasion, as fashion has proved to be one of the more entertaining aspects of life on Earth. Not a single ounce of makeup has ever touched the angel’s face, making their pale features seem all the more ethereal. Their voice is an even tenor and they stand at a tall 183cm with a broad and relatively flat chest, and a lithe frame. Overall, their entire look lives and breathes androgyny.

𝗢𝗖𝗖𝗨𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
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Medical Resident in the Neurosurgery Unit of Edgetoun Memorial Hospital

𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Angel — Suriel’s goal is to serve, assist, and enrich humanity with their specific Duty being healing.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Suriel was sent here with one goal: to be a healer of the people. They have studied and worked tirelessly to accomplish this goal and hope to eventually earn their way back to their golden home. Suriel was more than happy to be a diligent student and seeks to continue learning about diseases of the mind and body. The human brain is of particular interest, hence Suriel’s residency specialization in neurosurgery. Suriel believes that understanding is the first step towards truly helping a person. That being said, they are prone to judgement and, unfortunately, they tend to judge the sinner rather than the sin itself — which is a self-recognized personal fault. This judgemental behavior is relatively recent, and possibly a form of psychological projection.

Since beginning their residency at the hospital, Suriel has had… feelings. First, it was the handsome doctor in charge of cardiology, and then it was the pretty ginger nurse in pediatrics. Lustful thoughts and urges seeded themselves in their mind. Suriel has yet to act on them, and sees them for what they are: sin. Yet, the temptation is always there, and staying on the righteous path gets harder every day.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

The Beginning
“¹ In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. ² Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

³ And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. ⁴ God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. ⁵ God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.”
— Genesis 1:1-8

Long before Suriel came to Earth and took on an English surname, they watched the birth and growth of humanity under the will of Creation. In the vastness of time and space that is the golden city, they also saw the death of man. And so was born their task: to heal the bodies and souls of the broken. The wayward children must be guided to the path of righteousness.

Suriel was one of the few angels to land as a full-grown adult. They had to become a legitimate person, so they followed their vague clairvoyant visions, which lead to a person who could help them become a bonafide citizen. Bending the law served the greater good in working towards their Duty, so Suriel was willing to look the other way in this instance. Suriel enrolled in university, where they studied pre-medicine, and then went on to study medicine further, with specializations in psychology and neurology. They obtained their medical doctorate and are currently serving as a resident in the neurosurgery unit of Edgetoun Memorial Hospital.

𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗧𝗦
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EDGETOUN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL — Suriel spends more time in their workplace than they do in any other place, including their own apartment. Though they work well over the standard forty hours a week, Suriel does not tire of their work. This is their calling and their purpose. EMH is the largest hospital in the area and it is exceedingly average in terms of funding for medical devices and machinery.

GRANDVILLE — The angel loves a good read, whether it be for work, or for pleasure. Discovering hidden gems in the old pages and enjoying the cozy atmosphere is a favored pastime in the rare instances that Suriel has a few moments of free time.

PROSPECT PARK — Taking a stroll through this glorious area of reclaimed natural beauty is refreshing. Suriel frequents this area mostly because it is located on the walk between their apartment and the nearest underground station to travel to work.

OUR MOTHER OF MERCY — When Suriel is not working, sleeping, eating, or spending a few hours to themself to rest, they are donating their time to charity. Suriel often volunteers in the soup kitchen at Mercy and assists in comforting and caring for the lost and downtrodden souls that find their way to this quiet place of sanctuary. Our Mother of Mercy also serves as a full time Anglican church, which Suriel attends the services of every Sunday morning.

𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 & 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬
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Potential IC Roommate & Close Friend TBA
IC Relations TBA
No family to speak of.
No notable NPCs yet.

For Queen and Country

SURIEL

𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Dr. Suriel Anne White

𝗔𝗚𝗘
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Early 30’s. (Ageless)

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Seven years ago, when Suriel first arrived, their hair fell chin-length in soft yellow curls. Now they wear it cropped short on the sides, longest on top, and platinum blond in color. Bright blue-green eyes stare in stark contrast to a pale white complexion. As far as style goes, Suriel is just as likely to be seen wearing a suit and tie as they are a dress, it's whatever they prefer that day, really. They are always well-dressed for any occasion, as fashion has proved to be one of the more entertaining aspects of life on Earth. Not a single ounce of makeup has ever touched the angel’s face, making their pale features seem all the more ethereal. Their voice is an even tenor and they stand at a tall 183cm with a broad and relatively flat chest, and a lithe frame. Overall, their entire look lives and breathes androgyny.

𝗢𝗖𝗖𝗨𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Medical Resident in the Neurosurgery Unit of Edgetoun Memorial Hospital

𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Angel — Suriel’s goal is to serve, assist, and enrich humanity with their specific Duty being healing.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Suriel was sent here with one goal: to be a healer of the people. They have studied and worked tirelessly to accomplish this goal and hope to eventually earn their way back to their golden home. Suriel was more than happy to be a diligent student and seeks to continue learning about diseases of the mind and body. The human brain is of particular interest, hence Suriel’s residency specialization in neurosurgery. Suriel believes that understanding is the first step towards truly helping a person. That being said, they are prone to judgement and, unfortunately, they tend to judge the sinner rather than the sin itself — which is a self-recognized personal fault. This judgemental behavior is relatively recent, and possibly a form of psychological projection.

Since beginning their residency at the hospital, Suriel has had… feelings. First, it was the handsome doctor in charge of cardiology, and then it was the pretty ginger nurse in pediatrics. Lustful thoughts and urges seeded themselves in their mind. Suriel has yet to act on them, and sees them for what they are: sin. Yet, the temptation is always there, and staying on the righteous path gets harder every day.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

The Beginning
“¹ In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. ² Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

³ And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. ⁴ God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. ⁵ God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.”
— Genesis 1:1-8

Long before Suriel came to Earth and took on an English surname, they watched the birth and growth of humanity under the will of Creation. In the vastness of time and space that is the golden city, they also saw the death of man. And so was born their task: to heal the bodies and souls of the broken. The wayward children must be guided to the path of righteousness.

Suriel was one of the few angels to land as a full-grown adult. They had to become a legitimate person, so they followed their vague clairvoyant visions, which lead to a person who could help them become a bonafide citizen. Bending the law served the greater good in working towards their Duty, so Suriel was willing to look the other way in this instance. Suriel enrolled in university, where they studied pre-medicine, and then went on to study medicine further, with specializations in psychology and neurology. They obtained their medical doctorate and are currently serving as a resident in the neurosurgery unit of Edgetoun Memorial Hospital.

𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗧𝗦
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

EDGETOUN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL — Suriel spends more time in their workplace than they do in any other place, including their own apartment. Though they work well over the standard forty hours a week, Suriel does not tire of their work. This is their calling and their purpose. EMH is the largest hospital in the area and it is exceedingly average in terms of funding for medical devices and machinery.

GRANDVILLE — The angel loves a good read, whether it be for work, or for pleasure. Discovering hidden gems in the old pages and enjoying the cozy atmosphere is a favored pastime in the rare instances that Suriel has a few moments of free time.

PROSPECT PARK — Taking a stroll through this glorious area of reclaimed natural beauty is refreshing. Suriel frequents this area mostly because it is located on the walk between their apartment and the nearest underground station to travel to work.

OUR MOTHER OF MERCY — When Suriel is not working, sleeping, eating, or spending a few hours to themself to rest, they are donating their time to charity. Suriel often volunteers in the soup kitchen at Mercy and assists in comforting and caring for the lost and downtrodden souls that find their way to this quiet place of sanctuary. Our Mother of Mercy also serves as a full time Anglican church, which Suriel attends the services of every Sunday morning.

𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 & 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Potential IC Roommate & Close Friend TBA
IC Relations TBA
No family to speak of.
No notable NPCs yet.

Second character is done! Wow, I'm so proud of me. :D

For Queen and Country

LOKI

𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘
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Loki Van Stenberg
^{The former name he was born with, albeit spelled differently, the latter was chosen most recently because he liked the dramatic flair. He moves around a lot, mostly keeping to Europe, and changes his name with every move.
Aliases/Nicknames include: Low Key, Kingpin, and the Trickster}

𝗔𝗚𝗘
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~30. (~1100)
^{Born to a Vikingar couple in the Summer of 830, give or take a few decades. His most current falsified documentation lists his D.O.B. as July 13th, 1987.}

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘
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Devilishly handsome, is that enough? No? Okay then. With soulful blue eyes and a tidy crop of chestnut curls, one might almost be convinced that Loki is innocent. It is his ever present five o’clock shadow and crooked smirk which betray that he is up to absolutely no good, just like the god he was named for. He stands at about 185 centimeters with a toned and muscular build, but not overly so.

Appearances are of utmost importance to the aged viking — old habits die hard — and as such, he is hardly ever seen without at least a two piece suit, or a lab coat, if he’s working. Scars? Aye, he got a few of them raiding and trading his way across the Scandinavian homelands back in his human years eons ago, but most are faint and easily hidden by his apparel.

𝗢𝗖𝗖𝗨𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
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Legal Profession — He is a Senior Chemist at the research lab in Redbridge, earned a bonafide PhD and everything! He has a passion for the sciences. Having a well-paying job like this makes for a good cover on how he really got the fancy cars and mansion up on Avalon Point.

Underground Profession — Loki is anonymously one of the main players of London's drug scene. Narcotics, hallucinogens, uppers, downers, you name it! If it exists, Low Key has a man running the stuff on the streets. And the Kingpin doesn’t just cater to the humans, hell no, he’s got the stuff to get the Others wrecked as well. He also has just plain ol’ blood available, for those too morally weak to do their own hunting, but willing enough to look the other way on how said blood was obtained in the first place. Loki’s real pride and joy, though, is O-neg. Being a vampire scientist with unlimited access to state-of-the-art laboratory equipment, Loki figured out a way to genetically and chemically alter human blood so that it gives vampires the effect of being high — a previously unattainable state for vamps, aside from the very mild effects one could gain from the tainted blood of a drugged human. Pressed into tiny red tablets emblazoned with an ‘O’, O-neg does different things for different vamps; For some it feels like ecstasy, some just pot, and some experience hallucinations as one would with PCP. O-neg can take you all the way up to the clouds, and then promptly let you crash through the floorboards. It’s the real deal, and when you’re working with vampire lifespans and immunities, what the hell else do you have to do with your time? Come on, you know you want to try it…

𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
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Independent — You don’t get this far in life with a profession like Loki’s by making a lot of noise. Loki prefers to keep a low profile, skulking about in the shadows without appearing to be the threat that he is what keeps his business secret and safe. He isn’t even an outed supernatural, only those closest in his inner circle know what he is, and even fewer know who he is. Being an Independent vampire keeps the older, stuffier vamps from sniffing around in his dealings and discovering things that they shouldn’t. Being an Independent vampire is Loki’s only option, until the day that perhaps it isn’t anymore.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬
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Loki is double-edged sword, simply put. Listening to him talk is easy, a trait that made him a good college professor in his past lives. He is very intelligent and tells some of the best stories you’ve ever heard — who knows how true some of them are, though. And, hell, he could charm the pants off of just about anyone; Can, and has, most likely. Even with boatloads of charisma, he can be quite the egotistical dick sometimes. It is glaringly obvious that his own favorite person is, indeed, himself. And though vikings are known for having treated most people relatively equally long before it was the popular opinion, Loki can come off as a bit of a chauvinist. But hey, nobody’s perfect, and perfect was never something that the Trickster strived to be. If you can sand down those abrasive, crusty edges, you’ll find a real softy inside Loki. He just wants what everyone else wants: to have people who truly care about him.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬
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This section could go on for pages, but brevity is in fact the soul of wit. Flóki Björnsson was born to a jarl and his wife during the 9th century in the lands now known as Sweden. Growing up in the Vikingar lifestyle was as much as one might expect: tough, violent, bloody, but also noble, adventurous, and enriching. Vikingar ideals make up a lot of who Loki is today, and don’t believe all the clichés and stereotypes you hear about the Vikings, they aren’t the savages history books paint them to be. Flóki’s human life ended in a brutal battle across the sea in what is now Poland. It was a warrior’s death that would make his father proud, and earn his place in the halls of Valhalla, or Fólkvangr, he wasn’t picky. At least, that would have been the case, if he hadn’t woken up after, bloodied in a field among his fallen brothers and sisters with a burning thirst in his throat unlike any he’d ever known. Naturally, he went on to murder the nearest living, breathing thing… or ten.

In modern times, Loki makes his mark by finding new ways to turn heads in different locations around the world. Every few years, mostly when people start to question why he isn’t aging, Loki moves and takes on a new name and identity. He takes his business and the money it makes with him, of course, and though his legal surname changes, his aliases remain, as does his first name. Low Key is not fond of the mass outing of the supernaturals, preferring to keep his nature like his business, underground. Nothing good can come of the humans knowing about the Others, not that he fears them. No, they are a fickle race that is likely to bring about their own demise just to get their own points across… and that would make finding a good meal a hell of a lot harder.

𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗧𝗦
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KITTY KORNER — You know damn well why he goes here. It hosts a menagerie of beautiful women, it is high class, and it’s frequented by other vampires. The Korner checks all the boxes, really.

ACE OF SPADES — It’s a vampire night club, of course he goes there. Attending places like this is good way to gauge how well his product is being received. Although the Kingpin remains anonymous, he frequently commingles with his unknowing clients to ensure that they are enjoying themselves. Plus, it’s good for him to loosen up every now and again.

SLYE FOX — This is one of the best and only pubs around Edgetoun. Loki frequently goes here for a “few” casual pints with his friends and associates, or simply by himself. They say only alcoholics drink alone, and they may be right, but it’s pretty damned hard for a vamp to be an alcoholic. The best part about the Slye Fox is the absence of that loud, thumping club music. So peaceful...

𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 & 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬
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Jarl Björn, father, died in battle.
Jarl Ragna, mother, died shortly after, giving birth to Loki’s sister.
Frida Björnsson, sister, unknown… Loki assumes she’s dead
Alistair Queen, old friend, alive
Béatrix de la Croix, old frenemy, alive
And more to come...

Loki’s Little Black Book

𝗘𝗠𝗠𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗪
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"Little lost pup… probably shouldn’t be wandering the streets alone."
I’m obviously not the biggest fan of werewolves, but the young ones are hardly a threat. Especially the young and the packless — they’re just sad, really.

𝗞𝗔𝗟𝗜 𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗗
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"Methinks this one never truly wanders alone."
I know enough of the local packs to recognize a member of their hierarchy. The lovely museum curator is practically oozing with dominance and strength — not really my kind of girl, even if you were to take the fur out of the equation.

𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗟 𝗕𝗜𝗡𝗟𝗘𝗬
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"I heard he was a good kid..."
… but the cursed part of being one of the cursed children catches up with all dhampires in the end. I pity them, and I’m happy to say that I’ve never sired a dhamp of my own, but they are useful to me. The lost and broken ones always end up looking for a fix — and their pal Loki has just what they need, for a fee. You only live once, might as well live a little, right?

𝗝𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗟𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗥𝗨𝗦
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"What atrocious fashion sense."
Seriously, elbow patches haven’t been in in decades — especially those kinds. I’ve got over a thousand years on him, and even I can still keep up with the times. What else could I expect from a witch, though? They’re notoriously a bunch of rinse, recycle, reuse types.

𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗚𝗢 𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗬
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"Ahh, now there’s a familiar face. Shall I tell you why?"
Perhaps it’s not so much her face that I’m most familiar with... I jest, of course, I’m a much more observant man than that. I know most of the names and faces of all of the lovely birds at Kitty Korner. Miss Indigo puts on quite the spellbinding performance.

𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗡
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"Just another journalist screaming at the world about things they know nothing about."
How very human of her. Does she realize the target she’s placed on herself? Surely she knows there is truth to the stories of how monstrous some of us Others can be, yet she so boldly discusses our kind in the public eye. I, for one, do not want the social justice brand of respect that members of weaker races like herself are championing for. Respect is to be earned through wit, charm, and fear — and we vampires have been doing just that for ages. We do not need your help, for we are not victims.

𝗔𝗘𝗗𝗡𝗬𝗫
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"This ‘retired banker’ is much farther from home than he claims to be."
What kind of vampire would I be if I didn’t admit my interest in the fae? Lucky for Eddie, I prefer my snacks to be a bit more feminine, and far less geriatric. Jokes aside, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that he is quite the conversationalist — he’s thoughtful with his words, taking care to bend them in ways to perfectly match his intentions, which I can only assume are twisted. I admire that, it’s a true art form.

𝗦𝗜𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗪
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"She looks like she’s trying very hard to make a statement, I’m not quite sure what it is, though...”
I know very little about her. She’s young and she hasn’t done anything dramatic enough to end up on my radar yet. To be honest, I’m not sure if she’s actually an Other or just another generic punk-rock wannabe, they’re a dime a dozen since the mass outing.

𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗥 𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗘𝗡
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"What good is a king without a Queen?"
Handsome, well-dressed, ambitious… hell, it’s basically like looking in a mirror. What can I say? He’s my best mate, and has been for a few lifetimes. He essentially owns the city above ground while I, well, he’s one of the select few outside of my own force that knows what I really do. I usually move countries before I see a second decade in a city, but having Ali around for drinks and banter is nice, plus Ellie and Nic are also here, and the Others are outed now… so perhaps I’ll stick around a bit longer. Time will tell.

𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗜𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗪
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"He looks perpetually exhausted, doesn’t he?"
I wonder if it’s because of his little one’s wolf problem? All of the house training must be tiring work. I’ve not much else to say about him other than he irks me far less than his blonde coworker does.

𝗔𝗢𝗜𝗙𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗬
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"Now, I know my moral compass points far from north… but I keep my eyes off of the high school girls."
She is in high school, isn’t she? That cherubic face is practically dripping with innocent naivety. Some of my kind would find that alluring, but I have more refined tastes than the banal savages.

𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗬𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗡𝗚
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"Good evening, Officer. Could I get you a pint?"
I hate cops. So, naturally, I keep Lang close enough to seem chummy, and just far enough to ensure he stays ignorant. This system is working so far, I’m quite sure the American copper assumes I’m nothing more than the friendly neighborhood scientist that he occasionally tips back pints with at The Slye Fox.

𝗞𝗘𝗜
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"Another high schooler?"
I don’t believe our paths have crossed before. She’s adorable though, looks like she really enjoys life. That’s admirable… she must be human.

𝗟𝗨𝗞𝗔 𝗣𝗔𝗩𝗟𝗢𝗩
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"Quite the charming businessman, what’s not to like?"
Perhaps I embellished a little there, dear Luka is hardly the most charming amung us, but he certainly tries to be. While I don’t particularly enjoy the atmosphere of his club, I make a lot of profit off of it. Luka does not know that I am the man profitting from the drugs that he sees being dealt at Yelena, of course, but it’s true all the same. His business is also my business, and I’m happy to do whatever it takes to ensure it succeeds. As for friendship, Luka and I have something that mimics that, I’d say. We have mutual interests in making use of each other, and that’s what being friends means in my eyes.

𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗘𝗞
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"A face for radio? I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed someone prove a phrase so false before."
Louise has a lovely voice, and an even lovelier face. The young vampiress has potential. Fresh to the fangs and straight into the Collective, though I can’t say that I’m surprised there. A glamorous bunch of pussies, the lot of them are. I hope she learns to adopt the ideals of the faction’s more ruthless members, they’re by far the most entertaining.

𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗔 𝗔𝗧𝗟𝗘𝗢
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"She’s new in town, and I can’t say that I hope she stays."
A werewolf that works at the police station? I don’t think that there is anything that you could say to redeem her. Move along, dog, shoo!

𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗟𝗨𝗠𝗜𝗘𝗥𝗘
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“Ugh, the French. Don’t get me started."
That accent almost makes the drinks taste bad. Drop dead gorgeous though, so it’s always worth the visit — not that I think she would agree with me on that. Keeps her distance from me, that one does... I hope she comes around. I wonder what she’s like in bed… hopefully quiet.

𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗟
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"What the hell is that?"
Listen, I’m all for doing whoever you please, but the kids these days with their LGBTXYZ alphabet-soup identities! Honestly, is that a man? A woman? Don’t confuse me like that, mate! I don’t want to have to guess about what’s in your trousers…

𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗢 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢
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"It’s good to see that fashion isn’t lost on all men of this town."
Renny takes himself a bit too seriously in my opinion, though I am sure that he considers his work of utmost importance. Bringing justice to the murders of the lesser folk, how noble. Little does he know that some of the true culprits of the crimes he’s accused innocents of sit beside him in the pubs and clubs that he frequents nearly every night. Foolish, foolish humans, oh so easily deceived...

𝗚𝗨𝗬 𝗟𝗘𝗘
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"Seems a bit odd to travel all the way from Korea just to be a British barista, no?"
I wonder if he knows what he is yet. I think not, for he’d be far less cheerful if he did. There is sincere joy in his eyes in place of the usual dhampire despair. He’s not long for this world, surely the Half-Lives will sniff him out soon enough. It’s a shame, but I’ll welcome the new customer when they do.

𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗥 𝗘𝗡𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗛
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"Hot mama."
Old flames oft burn the longest and strongest, don’t they? I do not say this lightly, but I do believe a part of me loves Ellie. It is a strong enough part to know that she deserves better than I, although I will always think of Greece with the fondest memories and a smile in my heart. Eleanor knows me the best of anyone in this town, she’s seen behind the blood-slicked mask of charades and crime, to the inner man. Ellie knows Flóki, Loki, and even Low Key too (with a threat on my life if I ever break my promise to keep the twins off-limits in my dealings). I would trust Eleanor with anything, which may well be my downfall, if it weren’t for the fact that this street runs both ways.

𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗢𝗗𝗘𝗠 𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗞𝗜
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"Don’t shit where you eat… you got it, boss."
Nic and I go way back, given that we’re both immortals, that’s truly saying something. He is one of the select few to know my underground secret here in Edgetoun, and I trust that he’ll keep it that way. We’ve got a bit of a deal, a brother’s truce that we agreed to a few years ago when we were both a bit in our cups, in which I promised not to let my men deal in The Slye Fox. In this instance, my word is oak, I respect Nicodem enough for that. He’s a friend, much in the same way that Luka and I are, but not as close to me as Alistair or Ellie.

𝗖𝗔𝗘𝗟
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"Something smells delicious… I’m sure it’s just the coffee."
Oh, the fae... The fae, the fae, the fae. Why on earth (or Avalon) these creatures feel it’s safe for them to parade around amongst us, is truly beyond me. This boy with his ridiculous hair is a walking box of the world’s finest chocolates, and he doesn’t even realize that he should be treading carefully. Also, if he calls my beverage a cappurr-ccino with a teasing smirk and a wink again, the tempting target on his neck just might become too hard for me to ignore.

𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗬
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“Hmmm. Can I keep this picture?"
I’ve never met her, but I'm really hoping that changes. Love the curls.

𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗬𝗣𝗦𝗢 𝗚𝗥𝗘𝗬
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"Callie is so unapologetically herself these days, I love that."
The Lady Grey has come a long way from the timid mute girl that Eleanor first took in. She’s clever as the devil and thrice as pretty. I could see her going places — higher places than she might even see herself, but she’s still young and learning the ways of this life. She’s studying the human mind currently, a wise first choice for predators such as ourselves, though she’s picked up that pesky vegetarian vampire nonsense. Still young, still feeling guilty... I’m sure that this phase will pass.

𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗣𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗚𝗥𝗘𝗬
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"Aims high and follows through, I would expect nothing less of one of El’s children."
There is potential here and my eyes are certainly upon him, if only from the shadows. I know enough of cunning to recognize the early stages of mastery. It is out of respect for Ellie that I have not swooped in to groom Mr. Grey myself, but it appears that he is doing just fine on his own. He has chosen the sciences for his path of study, and my ego leads me to believe that I have been somewhat of an inspiration there. You only need call once, Caspian, and I will answer.

𝗢𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗔 𝗝𝗢𝗛𝗡𝗦𝗢𝗡
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"What’s the cause of death, Good Doctor?"
Another wolf… the whole town’s bound to be filthy with fleas at this rate. Although, I will grant the tiniest sliver of respect to this one, she’s studied enough to learn more than the simple sit, stay, and roll over of her kin.

For Queen and Country

Loki Van Stenberg

𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘
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Loki Van Stenberg
^{The former name he was born with, albeit spelled differently, the latter was chosen most recently because he liked the dramatic flair. He moves around a lot, mostly keeping to Europe, and changes his name with every move.
Aliases/Nicknames include: Low Key, Kingpin, and the Trickster}

𝗔𝗚𝗘
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~30. (~1100)
^{Born to a Vikingar couple in the Summer of 830, give or take a few decades. His most current falsified documentation lists his D.O.B. as July 13th, 1987.}

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘
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Devilishly handsome, is that enough? No? Okay then. With soulful blue eyes and a tidy crop of chestnut curls, one might almost be convinced that Loki is innocent. It is his ever present five o’clock shadow and crooked smirk which betray that he is up to absolutely no good, just like the god he was named for. He stands at about 185 centimeters with a toned and muscular build, but not overly so.

Appearances are of utmost importance to the aged viking — old habits die hard — and as such, he is hardly ever seen without at least a two piece suit, or a lab coat, if he’s working. Scars? Aye, he got a few of them raiding and trading his way across the Scandinavian homelands back in his human years eons ago, but most are faint and easily hidden by his apparel.

𝗢𝗖𝗖𝗨𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
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Legal Profession — He is a Senior Chemist at the research lab in Redbridge, earned a bonafide PhD and everything! He has a passion for the sciences. Having a well-paying job like this makes for a good cover on how he really got the fancy cars and mansion up on Avalon Point.

Underground Profession — Loki is anonymously one of the main players of London's drug scene. Narcotics, hallucinogens, uppers, downers, you name it! If it exists, Low Key has a man running the stuff on the streets. And the Kingpin doesn’t just cater to the humans, hell no, he’s got the stuff to get the Others wrecked as well. He also has just plain ol’ blood available, for those too morally weak to do their own hunting, but willing enough to look the other way on how said blood was obtained in the first place. Loki’s real pride and joy, though, is O-neg. Being a vampire scientist with unlimited access to state-of-the-art laboratory equipment, Loki figured out a way to genetically and chemically alter human blood so that it gives vampires the effect of being high — a previously unattainable state for vamps, aside from the very mild effects one could gain from the tainted blood of a drugged human. Pressed into tiny red tablets emblazoned with an ‘O’, O-neg does different things for different vamps; For some it feels like ecstasy, some just pot, and some experience hallucinations as one would with PCP. O-neg can take you all the way up to the clouds, and then promptly let you crash through the floorboards. It’s the real deal, and when you’re working with vampire lifespans and immunities, what the hell else do you have to do with your time? Come on, you know you want to try it…

𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
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Independent — You don’t get this far in life with a profession like Loki’s by making a lot of noise. Loki prefers to keep a low profile, skulking about in the shadows without appearing to be the threat that he is what keeps his business secret and safe. He isn’t even an outed supernatural, only those closest in his inner circle know what he is, and even fewer know who he is. Being an Independent vampire keeps the older, stuffier vamps from sniffing around in his dealings and discovering things that they shouldn’t. Being an Independent vampire is Loki’s only option, until the day that perhaps it isn’t anymore.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬
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Loki is double-edged sword, simply put. Listening to him talk is easy, a trait that made him a good college professor in his past lives. He is very intelligent and tells some of the best stories you’ve ever heard — who knows how true some of them are, though. And, hell, he could charm the pants off of just about anyone; Can, and has, most likely. Even with boatloads of charisma, he can be quite the egotistical dick sometimes. It is glaringly obvious that his own favorite person is, indeed, himself. And though vikings are known for having treated most people relatively equally long before it was the popular opinion, Loki can come off as a bit of a chauvinist. But hey, nobody’s perfect, and perfect was never something that the Trickster strived to be. If you can sand down those abrasive, crusty edges, you’ll find a real softy inside Loki. He just wants what everyone else wants: to have people who truly care about him.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬
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This section could go on for pages, but brevity is in fact the soul of wit. Flóki Björnsson was born to a jarl and his wife during the 9th century in the lands now known as Sweden. Growing up in the Vikingar lifestyle was as much as one might expect: tough, violent, bloody, but also noble, adventurous, and enriching. Vikingar ideals make up a lot of who Loki is today, and don’t believe all the clichés and stereotypes you hear about the Vikings, they aren’t the savages history books paint them to be. Flóki’s human life ended in a brutal battle across the sea in what is now Poland. It was a warrior’s death that would make his father proud, and earn his place in the halls of Valhalla, or Fólkvangr, he wasn’t picky. At least, that would have been the case, if he hadn’t woken up after, bloodied in a field among his fallen brothers and sisters with a burning thirst in his throat unlike any he’d ever known. Naturally, he went on to murder the nearest living, breathing thing… or ten.

In modern times, Loki makes his mark by finding new ways to turn heads in different locations around the world. Every few years, mostly when people start to question why he isn’t aging, Loki moves and takes on a new name and identity. He takes his business and the money it makes with him, of course, and though his legal surname changes, his aliases remain, as does his first name. Low Key is not fond of the mass outing of the supernaturals, preferring to keep his nature like his business, underground. Nothing good can come of the humans knowing about the Others, not that he fears them. No, they are a fickle race that is likely to bring about their own demise just to get their own points across… and that would make finding a good meal a hell of a lot harder.

𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗧𝗦
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KITTY KORNER — You know damn well why he goes here. It hosts a menagerie of beautiful women, it is high class, and it’s frequented by other vampires. The Korner checks all the boxes, really.

ACE OF SPADES — It’s a vampire night club, of course he goes there. Attending places like this is good way to gauge how well his product is being received. Although the Kingpin remains anonymous, he frequently commingles with his unknowing clients to ensure that they are enjoying themselves. Plus, it’s good for him to loosen up every now and again.

SLYE FOX — This is one of the best and only pubs around Edgetoun. Loki frequently goes here for a “few” casual pints with his friends and associates, or simply by himself. They say only alcoholics drink alone, and they may be right, but it’s pretty damned hard for a vamp to be an alcoholic. The best part about the Slye Fox is the absence of that loud, thumping club music. So peaceful...

𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 & 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬
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Jarl Björn, father, died in battle.
Jarl Ragna, mother, died shortly after, giving birth to Loki’s sister.
Frida Björnsson, sister, unknown… Loki assumes she’s dead
Alistair Queen, old friend, alive
Béatrix de la Croix, old frenemy, alive
And more to come...

I have Loki pretty much done. I will work on Suriel tomorrow, if not then, hopefully the next night!

CANCELLED.

_{Collab with @Universorum
Family Dinner Featuring: Selena “Oops” Sterling, Amanda “HIYA!” Sterling, Alistair “I’m Hungry!” Sterling, Sean “Not Going” Sterling, Pearce “You Should Go” Sterling & Cassandra “He’s Going” Sterling
Setting: Tuesday Evening, The Sterling Residence
Mentions Jamie @smarty0114, Brynn @melissahart}

“Your mother requests your presence in the dining room, Miss Sterling.” Lucius’ familiar British accent echoed through Selena’s powder pink and purple bedroom.

The eldest Sterling daughter held her hand steady as she used a pair of tweezers to pinch a band of falsies to her own eyelashes. Waiting a few moments for the glue to hold, Sel released them and inspected her handywork. Her eyelashes were only half done at this point, but the rest of her makeup look was complete. Selena’s cheeks strobed with a stunning highlight, a formula made of her own design, and her eyelids sparkled with shimmering rose gold that was complemented by warm brown and rust-colored shadows. The beauty queen was prepping to put on the second band of false lashes when her Assistant spoke again.

“Miss Sterling, your mother—”

“Yes, Lucius, I heard you the first time. You can see that I am a bit preoccupied, can you not?”

“Of course, Miss. I will let her know.”

With that out of the way, Selena went back to her work. Did she need to put in this much effort to look good? No, absolutely not, Selena was blessed with her mother’s flawless skin and near-angelic looks. But, also like her mother, Sel enjoyed this. People that didn’t put effort into their appearance were lazy, and laziness is far more unattractive than any other personality trait out there. Lazy people were gross, case and point. Sel’s phone buzzed against the vanity’s surface with a text from Jamie, indicating his plan to use her house as an alibi for the party tonight.

To: Rita Skeeter
No worries, I got you, boo.

Just as Selena sent out the text, the door of her bedroom crashed in. Sel jumped and scowled at the door, primed and ready to berate the offender. In the doorway stood the younger Sterling daughter, with her foot poised high above her head karate-kick style. “Cool! You like that? Seany taught me how to do a new kick!”

“WHAT do you think you are doing barging into my room like that, you imp?” Selena hissed at her little sister, not bothering to respond to her question. No, she did not like having her door kicked in. Closed doors were meant to stay closed. Did privacy mean nothing anymore?

Amanda lowered her leg and frowned in disappointment, having not received the praise and recognition that she so desired. “Whatever… Mom said it’s time for dinner and to not stop pestering you until you leave this stupid princess castle.” She was paraphrasing, of course. Mandy’s irritated look was quickly washed away by a mischievous grin. The spry fourth grader wound up and shot across the room like a bullet, jumping high, and diving into Selena’s perfectly made bed.

Selena stood up out of her chair and marched over to the bed. “Get off of my bed. Get out of my room. Now!” Mandy looked up at her older sister with wide eyes and quickly rolled away before she was mercilessly beaten with the down pillow held in Selena’s grasp. The young Sterling scrambled out of the room and down the stairs with haste.

“I DID IT, MOM!” Amanda called down the hallway as she retreated. Selena followed after her in much less of a rush. The rest of the family was gathered around the grand dining room table for dinner. The parents sat at both ends of the table, the head chairs, and the younger twins sat on the left side of their father. Selena took her seat next to her mother and across from Amanda (who was sticking her tongue out currently). In the seat between Selena and her father, which had been empty for far too long, sat her twin brother. And because of that, all was right in the world.

“Can we eat now?” The youngest male Sterling asked, looking from his mother, to his father — adding in his two older siblings for good measure. Alistair could only assume he was the hungriest at the table, as no one else seemed to feel like it was a great travesty that they had to wait for the entire family to assemble before they could eat. “I don’t think any of my friends do ‘family dinners.’ We’re weird.” He complained, folding his arms over his chest.

“Just a little bit,” Sean replied to Alistair with a wink, before he looked at his father. Honestly? Sean was kind of hungry too, which was probably bad. He’d eaten all kind of junk food over the course of the day — he was of the opinion that Moon Pies were his favorite. His mother thought it was icky of him to wander the unhallowed halls of places such as Wal-Mart to buy disgusting, preservative filled foods, but Sean saw it as somewhat of a rite of passage. Besides, he had his own money, and had already shown that he’d spend it how he wanted.

“Yes, we can eat.” Pearce said after a period of silence that existed almost solely to mess with Alistair.

“FINALLY.”

“Now that Selena has so kindly graced us with her presence, we can eat.” Cassandra, the matriarch, spoke up before picking up a silver fork. She poked at the fresh garden salad in front of her and softly chewed a bite of it while she stared at her daughter. After swallowing, Cassie addressed her. “You look nice, is there a special occasion?”

“There sure is! Did you know that Sean got a MOTORCYCLE?!” Mandy exclaimed, causing Cassie to stab at her salad a bit more aggressively.

“Yes… I do. I was there when he bought it.” Cassie cleared her throat and looked across the table towards her husband. She took a dainty sip of white wine to settle herself so that she didn’t have a complete conniption at the dinner table.

Selena was about to explain that, yes, there was a special occasion, when she was so rudely interrupted — yet again — by Amanda. The subject of the interruption, however, was the real shocker. “Wait... what?” Selena looked to her brother for confirmation… and explanation.

Sean nodded, swallowing down a mouthful of food. “Yeah, I got it last night. She wouldn’t pay for it though, so I bought it with my own money. I couldn’t stand riding around in your — well, it’s a great car, and I’m sure you love it, Sel — but it’s kind of a pink monstrosity… Plus, it drives itself. I don’t trust that. I wanted something that runs on gas and is fully human driven. Mom bought me a car though. She was a little wine drunk, so dad had to come and drive it back. Thanks, Dad.” Sean said, glancing over at his father with a small grin and a nod.

“Uh-huh.”

Selena nodded slowly. This was an interesting development. Today was full of those, so it seemed. Sel made a mental note to check out the bike, but did not vocalize these intentions. She was similar enough to her mother to know that she was upset about the motorcycle, and the conversation might go more smoothly if they changed the subject. “I’m sorry my top of the line vehicle isn’t good enough for you, brother.” She smirked, her words clearly having no ill-meaning. Her car was the least masculine thing on the planet, she couldn’t blame Sean for wanting something different. Something of his own. “About the special occasion,” Selena looked to her father now. “Did you know that the Helmsley triplets were coming back today, Daddy?”

Pearce looked up, and shook his head, “no, I thought they weren’t due back for another few weeks, actually. Ryan got back today as well — I imagine his wife will be here soon too. He did mention something involving Brian, but he didn’t give specifics, and I didn’t ask.” Pearce said, shrugging his shoulders. The Helmsleys and the Sterlings were quite close, but both families were almost equally secretive. Neither tended to press issues with the other, and they both liked it that. After a brief pause to take another bite of food, he spoke again. “I suspect the special occasion involves them?”

“Indeed, it does. In true Helmsley fashion, they’re hosting a gala on their yacht tonight. They went all out, with posters and flyers, they even televised it. The whole school was talking about it. The boat leaves in a few hours, actually. Which reminds me, Mother, if Jamie’s mom calls later, can you cover for him? Say we’re shopping in the hills — somewhere that the reception’s bad, or something.” Selena looked from her father to her mother, smiling bright and hardly touching her own dinner.

“I can. Though, I don’t understand why Mrs. Callaghan can’t accept that teenagers go to parties… it’s silly to prohibit them entirely. That makes things more tempting, and encourages secrets and lies. That’s not a healthy foundation for a family to have…” Cassie took a judgmental sip of her wine.

“Riiight…” Selena remarked at that bit of irony, as if the Sterlings didn’t run on the power of secrets and lies. Sel couldn’t prove that yet, but she had an inkling that not all the glitters was gold — or silver, in this case. “Anyway, Seany and I will be attending, of course. You are going… right?” Selena smiled at her twin.

“No, I have no intentions of going to another party. The New Year’s one was my first, and it will be my last.” Sean said to Selena with an apologetic look on his face, before he looked at their younger siblings, “besides, I’ve already promised my evening to the twins. They want to watch my shows with me.” He explained. The last party had nearly devolved into a fight at the beginning. Sean had met Brynn because of it, yes, but that didn’t make up for the unnecessary stressors that it could be. And that party? That had been on land. A cramped, floating vehicle with no way out but the cold ocean seas? No thank you.

“Yeah, take that, Satan. Brother’s ours tonight.” Mandy piped up joyfully.

“Amanda!” Cassandra scolded.

Mandy barely looked ashamed whilst Selena glared across the table in annoyance. Rolling her eyes, Sel actually started to eat some of her dinner. If she was going to drink at all tonight, she should at least consume a few calories first. “That’s a shame, you should really reconsider, Seany, for a number of reasons. One, it would make me very happy if I didn’t have to go alone. Two, this will be a million times better than anything Henry and his goons could throw together. And Three, it’s a Helmsley affair. It’s simply good for family relations if we attend, isn’t that right, Daddy?” Sel wasn’t above pulling the Daddy’s Girl card, it had its uses. Hopefully it panned out.

“She’s not wrong.” Pearce said, turning his attention to his son. At this, Sean frowned. Was his father going to pressure him into going? That would end poorly; Sean was not going to take orders from anyone at the table. “You probably ought to go.” Sean gave his twin sister a look that was undeniably a sour glare, before he cleared his throat, and fought for himself.

“Regardless of who throws the party, the people that attend this school are scum. There will be fights, and shouting, and awful loud music. Underage drinking, an excessive amount of drug use, probably more than a little underage sex. I have no qualms with the Helmsley family, but I have no respect for gatherings such as this. I won’t embarrass the family by attending another. Don’t you agree, Mom?” Sean said, glancing over at his mother, before he slipped his phone out of his pocket to check a text that had been sent to him.

“It isn’t fair if Sean has to go! We never get to play with him.” Alistair grumbled, before looking down at his now completely empty plate. “And I’m still hungry!”

“It sounds safer and more respectable than a motorcycle.” Cassandra quipped, clearly still fired up about what she had deemed as “death-on-wheels” since her brief bout of poor decision-making on the night prior. If Sean didn’t want to go to this event, her suggesting that he should go, along with Pearce, would be his punishment for insisting on buying that death trap. “I trust you’d know how to handle yourself like the responsible gentleman that your father and I raised you to be. You will go and represent our family along with your sister, and make sure that she gets home safely.”

“But Mommmm,” Amanda drew out a whiney complaint.

Sean quickly slid his phone back into his pocket, before he gave his mother a look that said a thousand words. He’d given her a chance, but she had made the wrong choice. “It’s alright, Amanda, I have a better idea. How about, this weekend, I’ll take you and Alistair to the Honda shop, and we’ll get you guys little dirt bikes? I’ll teach you to ride them, and maybe if we have time, we’ll go to a gun range. After all, since I’ve been so rudely taken away from our plans together, it seems only fair I make it up to you.” Sean said to his younger siblings, before smiling at his mother.

“THAT SOUNDS TOTALLY WICKED!”

“YEAH!”

“Ab-so-lute-ly not. You may be an adult that can make your own decisions, but Amanda and Ali are not. You are not the parent here! ...Pearce?” Cassie shot her gaze across the table towards her husband once more. Was he going to sit there and do nothing?

Selena sat back slightly and watched as her family dissolved into chaos. This… this was not her intention. Not at all. Now Sean would probably be angry with her when all she was trying to do was find ways to spend time with him. “I-it’s fine. Nevermind. I just… I didn’t want to have to go by myself. I’ll find Jamie when I get there or something.” Sel admitted, nervously reaching for the crystal glass of sparkling water in front of her.

At this point, Sean took his attention away from the discussion at the table. As far as he was concerned, it was over and he’d won. He was good at that; if nothing else, the Academy had taught him how to win. Staring at the phone, he furrowed his brow at a picture message from Brynn, tapping the download button. He waited a split second, and then his eyebrows shot up briefly.

From: Brynn

more of that to come if you show up to the party~

As Sean slid his phone into his pocket once again, his demeanor seemed to have shifted slightly. Silently, though, he waited for his father to speak.

Pearce was presented with a choice. He either dropped it and left his daughter in her sorry state, sided with his wife and risked losing his son, or sided with Sean and risked not having sex for the next few months. No option was a good one, so Pearce attempted to do what he thought was the best option: compromise. “Hold on, Cassie. I think Sean deserves some time with his younger siblings, and what he chooses to do with it is his choice. I trust him enough to know what he’s doing with the twins. However, I think he should go to the party. So, how about this, he’ll go to the party, and on Saturday or Sunday, he can take the twins for the day. You can go to the spa for the whole weekend, and Sean will make sure to send you photographic evidence that proper safety gear is being used. How does that sound?”

“Agreeable, if not favorable.”

“Selena?”

“I already said nevermind. I don’t care what he does with the hellions.” Sel said unhappily, sliding a piece of lettuce around her plate with her fork. She wasn’t hungry anymore. “I’m going to go finish getting ready.” Selena slid her chair back and excused herself from the table before heading up to her room.

Cassandra sighed and watched as her daughter retreated back to what was no doubt her safe space in this lonely castle. The Sterlings were a shining example of how money couldn’t buy happiness, though they all tried their hardest to pretend that they were. “This family is falling apart.” Cassie remarked quietly and finished off her glass of wine.

Sean walked away from the table after his mother spoke, considering his work done. The conversation, however, was not. “...is that a yes?” Alistair asked cautiously, looking at each of his parents for confirmation, with his breath trapped in his lungs.

Meanwhile, Sean walked to Selena’s room and lightly knocked on the door, “are you ready, yet? We ought to leave soon, or we’ll be late.” He asked in a gentle tone, patiently waiting for his sister to answer. Sean knew her well enough to know when she was upset. And she was definitely upset then and there.

“There’s no we, Sean.” Selena said through the closed door. She wasn’t sulking or crying into her pillow like one might expect of an upset teenage girl. Sel was far more poised than that, even in the privacy of her own room. Still, her own words hurt her more than she cared to admit — that sounded like such a final thing to say to her twin. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror after pulling her pre-selected party dress over her head and modeling it. Once again, she spoke from inside the closed off room. “I’m not forcing you to go anywhere that you really don’t want to, and I’m definitely not getting in the middle of whatever is going on between you and Mother.”

Sean sighed. He should have suspected something like this would happen. Idly, checking his phone and downloading another picture, he spoke again. “At this point, I’m going either way. We might as well go together, don’t you think? There is nothing going on between me and her, don’t worry. We’re just having a dispute over me growing up. She doesn’t like it very much.” Sean tapped on the door again, “I insist that I drive us, though.”

“Whatever you say, Seany.” Selena responded before opening the door. She grabbed a deep plum-colored clutch off of her vanity and checked to make sure it was packed with the necessities for a party: her phone, her lipstick, credit cards, ID, nail file, and a condom — just in case tonight was finally the night she traded in her v card. It probably wasn’t, but a Sterling was always prepared for anything to happen. “Fine. Let’s go.” Sel snapped the clutch closed and brushed by her brother on the way out of her bedroom.

Well, she was very clearly in a poor mood. Sean would have to fix that eventually, but some other time. For now, he was focused on the night ahead. Would he have a good time? Unlikely. But, at least he’d get laid. “You don’t have to be so passive aggressive. At least be fully aggressive,” Sean said, shaking his head as he stepped toward the garage, where his chariot for the evening awaited.

As they walked, he tapped out a quick text on his phone.

To: Brynn

I’ll be there.

CANCELLED.

_{Featuring: Dixon & Lucas
Day: Tuesday After School
Location: The Hardy-Piccoli Residence}

Tap. Tap. Taptaptap. JD drummed the eraser of of his number two pencil in time with the song playing through the speakers situated atop his work desk. He likely had his mother to thank for his perfect sense of rhythm as he kept tempo with the heavy tune. The book that was serving as a drum in this instance was his trig textbook. While Dixon was a freshman, he was actually ahead of his peers in math, and had tested into trigonometry a year early.

Math was easy, and it always had been for him. What was not easy, was trying to stay focused on fucking proofs when he had agreed to go to a party tonight. A party. A real high school party, probably one with lots of sex, and alcohol, and drugs, and dancing — all things that one Johnny Dixon Piccoli did not participate in. And on a school night, no less! At least tomorrow was a late start day. Oh well, he had said he would go to Katie and definitely-not-cute bible dude, so he would. All he had left to figure out was how to get to the Wells’ without raising suspicions… and getting ready, of course. He’d already gotten half-way through the first part by talking to his mother.

Dixon quickly scribbled out the rest of the answers to his homework assignment and then shoved it into his backpack, which would be going with him to the Wells’ later. He stood up, stretched out of his study-induced slump, and made his way over to the full length mirror beside his closet. There was just enough room between all of the band stickers covering the glass surface to see the vague outline of his body. Dixon bit at his lip rings and then blew a loud raspberry as he gazed at his reflection. He roughed up his helplessly limp green locks and frowned. His whole look needed some work, to be honest. He started with changing his outfit — which equated to exchanging one hoodie for another, and keeping the same black band shirt and ripped skinny jeans on.

The teen boy ducked into his ensuite bathroom, where there were enough hair and makeup products for it to pass as a teenage girl's room. Fuck your gender stereotypes, JD doesn’t give a shit you think. He plugged in his straightener and, whilst it heated up, he worked on his face. Without any precision or artistry, Dixon roughly lined his eyes with a jet black gel pencil. Capping the liner, he admired his work in the vanity briefly, and then he viciously rubbed at both of his eyes with his fingers. It was barbaric, and completely not the way that you were supposed to smudge out your liner, but it was his way of doing so. It wasn’t a true emo look unless you looked like a drugged up raccoon with bloodshot eyes.

Next, JD ran a flat iron through his verdant locks. He brushed them out and added powdered texturizer for extra volume. With a few hand scrunches and shakes of his head, he looked like a proper anime character once more. His music playlist had shifted to one of his favorite Deciduous Dreams songs, and Dixon was helpless but to sing along to the chorus, using his hairbrush as a microphone.

“I feel weak.
Thrown in wide open spaces.
We turn ourselves inside out,
expose what we're afraid to see.”

Dixon danced around the bathroom as he sang along. You know that phrase “dance like nobody's watching”? JD was living that — shaking his thin, skinny jean-clad hips as he moved about the room. He spun around on the smooth tile floor, his socks making the motion slick and fluid. “And I know wh—” His rendition of the song was cut short by the sight of his father standing in the doorway. JD quickly lowered the microphone-hairbrush. “Oh, hi, dad.”

Lucas smirked at his son with his arms crossed over his chest. Raising a jokingly false judgemental eyebrow, he spoke. “Well, if you’re trying to compete with Jareth, you might not want to quit your day job just yet, kid. You got your mom’s looks, and my awful singing voice. You’re welcome.”

“Shut up.” JD rolled his eyes and turned around, returning the brush to the counter. “What do you want, anyway?”

“Hey! Don’t ‘what do you want’ me, punk.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black. Lucas would have never thought that he’d live to see the day that he called someone else a punk. Luke also hadn’t ever imagined himself becoming a father either, but here he was. And the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, it seemed. “Your mother said you had something to ask me. She said it with that tone of voice that implied it was a favor, too, so maybe you shouldn’t be such a little shit, eh?”

The son turned around and returned his father’s smirk. This kind of banter was the usual in their household. Words that might upset folks with certain sensibilities were used as terms of endearment among the Piccoli’s. “Yeah, can you give me a ride to the Wells’?”

“Again?”

“Yup, I’m gonna stay there tonight.”

“On a school night?”

“Ma already said it was okay. It’s a late start day tomorrow.” He said defensively as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black and red striped zip up hoodie.

Luke raised his eyebrow once again. “Oh, did she, now?” Luke asked with mock-disbelief. He gave his son a full once over — taking in the slightly different outfit from the one he had worn to school that morning, the coiffed hair, and the makeup. “Since when do you put on eyeliner to go to the Wells'? You sure you aren’t meeting up with some secret girlfriend?”

That brought forth another moody eye roll and wave of teenage angst. “No.”

“Boyfriend, then?” Lucas pressed, knowing full well that it would get a rise out of his son.

“NO!” Dixon’s eyes went saucer-wide as he barked out a response. Before he could blush at that, he kept his mind focused on his edgy facade. A grumpy JD was a normal JD, and one that didn’t raise any unnecessary suspicions of boyfriends, or lack-thereof. “Look, I’ll just walk, nevermind.” He said and started to head for the door, attempting to storm out of his own room, as teenagers do.

“Uh-huh...” Luke mused and turned to watch his son walk away with a victorious grin. He had every intention of giving JD the ride that he had asked for, he was just giving him shit about it first. Dixon was an awful liar, and both Regina and Lucas already knew that he was up to something suspect tonight. The truth was, they didn’t care about him going to a party half as much as he thought that they did. They’d gotten up to much worse when they were his age, and they’d done so without being straight-A students. “Just finish prettying yourself up and let me know when you’re ready to leave.” He said and left his son to finish getting party-ready alone.

CANCELLED.

_{The first date of Savannah Matthews and Trevor Wells
Location: The Erickson Household → Trevor’s Jeep → Creamistry
A @melissahart and @Silent Observer Collab}

One very awkward photo session later, and everyone’s favorite redheads were now heading down the driveway together to go on their very first date. Trevor might have expected embarrassment on that grand of a scale from Remy, but not Josephine. She took pictures like it was their first day of kindergarten or something. Still, Trev couldn’t help but laugh as he walked up to the passenger side door and opened it for Savannah. “That was… something. Haha—”

Sav’s cheeks were still flushed from Josie taking pictures, still completely and utterly mortified. It was a first date, not prom! She couldn’t believe her friend had done something so embarrassing, but at the end of the day, she didn’t expect anything less from Josie. At least if things go well with the pair, and they become something more, they’ll have pictures to document the occasion. As the two walked towards Trevor’s car, she couldn’t help but swoon as he opened the door for her. Savvy was a sucker for good manners and chivalry; she was from the south, it was how they lived. “Yeah, sure was. Josie was extremely excited… a little too excited if you ask me.” Smiling at the redhead, she nimbly stepped into the car. “But I don’t blame her, she lives with all guys, so she doesn’t get the whole girly dressing up thing a lot.”

“I don’t blame her either... It is pretty exciting.” Trevor’s face lit up with a small smile. He was, of course, still blushing as well. Savannah hopped up into the lifted Jeep with ease, as if she was accustomed to getting into large vehicles. She was from Texas, and they say everything is bigger in Texas, so maybe she was used to it. Once Sav was settled into her seat, Trev carefully closed the door for her and swung around to the driver’s side to get in himself. The engine revved to life and the radio turned on to a local station at low volume. “Feel free to play DJ, my Assistant’s name is Rudy, he could play whatever you’d like.”

Sav nodded, also agreeing that this was exciting. She was on a date! With the hottest boy in school! As she sat in the car while he made his way to the driver’s side, she had to will herself to not act like an idiot. Play it cool, Sav. Just play it cool. She thought to herself, taking a deep breath to slow down her heart rate. But it picked up again as the engine revved, and Trevor asked her to choose the music. Hopefully her tastes wouldn’t be a turn off. “Okay, um, Rudy, could you play… some classic rock? Like the Stones or something?” Savvy asked; she inherited her love of the oldies from her mom.

“Nice choice.” Trevor smiled at that. Gosh, she really was a dream girl, wasn’t she? Rudy started playing Sympathy For the Devil and Trev clicked the volume down a few notches. Music was nice, but it shouldn’t be the center of focus on their drive. This was a date, and Trev was going to try his damnedest to talk to Savannah (hopefully without sounding too foolish). He put the Jeep into drive and pulled away from the curb to head to their destination. “So, have you been to Creamistry before?”

“Thanks,” Sav smirked, mentally sighing in relief that she had picked something that he didn’t hate. As they began to drive, she tried her best not to look down at the ground, nerves attempting to take control of the moment. She just had to relax, this was going to be fun! “No, I actually haven’t. I’ve only hit a couple of the main spots in Beverly Hills since I moved here, but I’ve got a killer sweet tooth, so I’m excited.” She’d only been around for six months, so exploring happened naturally, but she still surprisingly hadn’t been to the key places in the city. “You can’t really go wrong with ice cream though.”

“Yeah, it’s really great, but you’ll soon find that out.” The redhead was struggling to keep his eyes on the road. In between traffic signals and at red lights, he would steal glances at her. She was wearing her hair in loose curls, more curly than he had seen it before. They looked soft and touchable, the red strands appearing almost golden in the late afternoon sun. Of course Savannah looked even better in the sunshine, it was like she was made to be in it — though, if she was from the same gingery stock as him, the easily sunburnt skin would disagree. “What about before you moved, then? Tell me about Texas, where was your favorite spot there?”

At the mention of home, a wishful smile formed on the redhead’s face, memories instantly coming to mind. She missed home quite often, and loved talking about her roots and her hometown. “The food is so good in Texas, better than here, I’m not gonna lie,” Savvy started, laughing slightly at the difference in cuisine. Here in Beverly Hills, it was salad, green juice, and more salad, which was sacrilegious in Hico. “But my mom and I used to go to this bakery a few blocks from my house, and they made the most amazing sugar cookies- probably because they added a whole load of butter to them. I would beg to go there after school every day to get one, they were that good.” She smirked at the memories of dragging her mother down the street, on the hunt for the delectable treats after pre-k. “You must get spoiled in the food department though. Your dad’s a chef, right?”

“Yes I do, and he sure is.” Trevor responded with a laugh. His father practically never stopped cooking. Being a chef wasn’t just his career, it was his way of life. “He works Captain Cuddle’s with Ty — that’s Hailey’s father, which… you probably know. But, uhm, we’ll be going there this Friday, so you’ might meet him. And… it may or may not be as embarrassing as the JoJo situation, knowing my father.” Trev chuckled again as he flicked the turn signal on to pull into the plaza where Creamistry was located.

Savannah gulped. Meeting the family? Already? It’s like the super fast forward button was being pressed on her life! “Oh, okay! Don’t worry, I think if I can handle Josie, I can handle anything.” She stated, unsure if that was the actual truth or not. But Savvy put on a smile, hoping Trevor wouldn’t notice how anxious that made her.

“He might be really busy, though, Friday nights are kind of crazy there. Either way… you don’t have to worry about him. Dad’s really nice.” The ginger easily picked up on her nerves. He hadn’t meant to scare her, but the more he thought about it, he’d be pretty freaked out if the situation was reversed. Trev made a mental note to instruct his dad not to be too extra if he did see them on their date on Friday. After pulling the Jeep into a parking spot, Trevor killed the engine. The building facade in front of them bore thick vertical stripes of white and pale blue. Creamistry was emblazoned in pastel pink cursive font that was set up to glow after the sun sets. The sign also included an anthropomorphically smiling mint green bowl of neapolitan ice cream. “This is it.” Trev looked over to her with a grin and then opened his door to get out.

Sav mentally sighed in relief; she’d be happy to meet Trevor’s dad, she was just incredibly fearful that he wouldn’t like her. She smiled as they pulled up to Creamistry- this place was so cute! Getting out of the Jeep, she smoothed out her dress and brushed some loose hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe I haven’t been here yet- definitely seems like somewhere I would go.”

Trevor walked around to her side of the vehicle as she got out. Somewhat awkwardly, he waited for her to smooth out her dress and start walking. He mentally battled with himself on whether he should offer her his elbow… or try to hold her hand. His confidence waned and he did neither, instead he simply started walking beside her as they headed inside. The interior of the ice cream shoppe was just as adorable as the sign outside had suggested. The decor was all in soft, pastel colors, and the workers wore cute aprons with smiling ice cream cones, bow ties, and dainty soda jerk hats. “The ice cream is fantastic, but this place is really all about the toppings.” Trev gestured to the long bar of endless serve-yourself toppings in the center of the restaurant. Retro-style white leather booths lined the perimeter of the room, where a number of people sat and enjoyed their sweet treats. “So… what’s your favorite flavor?” He asked as they stood in the line to place their orders.

Savvy walked beside him- also quite awkwardly. Should they hold hands? She wondered what it would be like to hold Trevor’s hand… Following him inside, her eyes lit up at the sight of the interior of the ice cream store. It was even cuter than she thought it’d be. Stepping into line next to her date, she smirked at his comment. “Asking the tough questions, I see,” Savvy laughed finding her comment slightly funny. “Probably Mocha Chip or something of the coffee/chocolate variety. What about you?”

“Strawberry, definitely strawberry. Though all ice cream is ace in my books.” Trev beamed at the other redhead. Yeah… strawberry was absolutely his favorite. He was beginning to think that red might become his favorite color, too. Trevor was distracted from admiring his pretty date when the clerk called them up as next to the counter. “Oh, uh, I’d like two scoops of the fresh strawberry. Tipped in a dish, with the cone on top, please.” He grinned at the clerk and then turned to face Savannah. “... what would you like?”

She smirked, chocolate and strawberry certainly did go well together. “Could I have a scoop of Mocha Chip in a dish, please? Thanks.” Sav reached down towards her purse and pulled out her wallet. “Now, the next tough question is what type of toppings you’re gonna get.” She laughed, trying to decide what to put on her ice cream; there were so many options! Now that her nerves were somewhat gone, Sav realized how easy it was to talk to Trevor. He was also easy on the eyes, which didn’t hurt in the slightest either.

“Endless toppings for both of those, please.” Trevor finished the order to the ice cream server. He had noticed Sav going for her purse, and that would not do. He would pay for this date, and the next one, and any other date that she’d be willing to go on with him. He hoped there would be many. Trev passed his card over the chip scanner as soon as the total flashed on the screen. They stepped over towards the pick-up section of the counter so that the next customers could place their order. “I’m a simple man, I really like chocolate sprinkles. I used to like them because they looked like tiny ants all over the ice cream — which is kinda gross — but little boys like gross stuff.” Trev laughed at himself softly. “Rye and I used to get ice cream with the other kids back in Colorado. I’d get chocolate sprinkles, and he’d get rainbow.”

Sav smiled at Trevor’s chivalry as she watched him pay. It was old fashioned, but that was the way it was in the South, so she appreciated it more than he knew. Her mother would never approve of a guy who didn’t offer to pay, so he passed test number one! “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.” Listening to him talk about the sprinkles, one part of his response stuck out to Sav. Other kids in Colorado? She didn’t quite understand what he meant. Maybe he had family there or something? Deciding to ask, she cleared her throat. “Oh, do you have relatives there? In Colorado?”

“Oh… uh,” It was easy to forget that not everyone knew about the Wells boys. Trevor didn’t make a big deal about his upbringing, but he was a popular face in school, so people talked. BHHS was a gossip mill, everyone knew everything that there was to know about somebody — but Savannah was new. That was refreshing. But, he wasn’t about to keep things from her, she deserved to know just as much, if not more than anyone else, if she was going to be his girl. “I did, but not anymore. Rye and I are adopted, and from different families. We became brothers the day we met, though, at a Children’s Home in Denver.” Trevor shared openly, it wasn’t a sensitive topic at all, at least… it wasn’t anymore. Their dishes of ice cream were placed on the counter and Trev picked up both, handing Sav’s to her, before heading towards the topping bar. He immediately went for the sprinkles and scooped on an unhealthy amount of them — endless toppings meant endless, after all.

Oh. Well, Sav felt like a Grade A idiot, why did she have to ask something so sensitive? Stupid, stupid, stupid… She thought to herself, trying to think of a recovery in some way. But, the damage had been done, so she just proceeded as normally as she could, taking her ice cream from Trevor, their hands brushing ever so slightly. “Oh, I didn’t know you were adopted. So are your parents from Denver or from here?” Sav asked while gazing at her topping options. She spotted some of the frosted animal crackers that you buy in the big tubs and immediately put some on top of her ice cream in addition to some fresh strawberries and a few raspberries.

Trevor joined Savannah by the fresh fruit section. Their hands bumped when they both simultaneously reached for the strawberry scoop. Looking at each other quickly, they both turned the color of the berries themselves. Like a proper gentleman, Trev let her grab a portion first. “They’re both from Colorado. Pops was born in Denver, and he actually was adopted from the same Home when he was young. And Dad is from a very small town north of Denver called Westworth. They, uh, met in school there. High school sweethearts and stuff.” Trevor smiled brightly at Savannah. High school sweethearts had a nice ring to it, didn’t it? He returned his gaze back to his sinful cup of dairy dessert, it was almost perfect. Trev plucked up a can of whipped cream, one of those fancy ones for fresh cream like they use at coffee shops, and expertly swirled a spiral of cream over his mess of toppings. “Whipped cream?” Trevor asked Savannah, gesturing with the can like he was offering to make a masterpiece atop her own ice cream. He was. “I’m kind of a professional at this.” He said with a smirk, finally feeling comfortable and in the moment with her.

The female redhead listened and put two and two together, noting that Trevor had two dads. When she met them, how would she address them? Mr. and Mr. Wells? Yeah, that sounded right. She hoped. “That’s so sweet. High school sweethearts aren’t too common, so that’s really special.” Savannah replied, her blush from Trevor’s touch fading slightly. She thought to herself that Trevor, Riley, and their dad must have a unique connection, all having been adopted from the same Children’s home. Letting out a laugh at his dish, she held out her own ice cream with a smile. “Well, I better leave it to the professional then.”

Trevor beamed and happily obliged. With the most focused and careful precision of his entire life, Trevor swirled a pristine peak of whipped cream on top of Savvy’s dish. “Ahh, perfection!” He exclaimed with a proud grin and set the canister down. The pair made their way to an empty booth and sat across from each other. Trevor couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment if he tried. This was fantastic, at least he thought it was going fantastically, and he hoped she did too. Moreso, he wanted to know about her as well. “So what about you, is your whole family from Texas?”

Sav grinned as they sat down, having a full view of Trevor all to herself. Man, was she lucky. At the mention of family, a topic that was once not so easy to discuss, she smirked, now able to talk about her relatives in a normal, not weird way. “Well… sort of. My mom is, but my dad isn’t. She came out to Beverly Hills to become an actress when she was 22, but instead met my dad, and left when she found out she was pregnant with me. I didn’t know who my dad was until a few years ago.” Taking a bite of her ice cream to break up her sentence, she continued after patting her lips with a napkin. She did want to be open with him too, especially since he had been so willing to talk about his past with her. Relationships were built on honesty. “But as you can see, I live in Beverly Hills now, and that’s cause I moved out here to get to know him. I spent my whole life wondering who he was and what he was like, so it’s pretty surreal that I’m here.” Savvy took another bite of her ice cream. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. This is so good!”

“Isn’t it? Totally worth the extra reps I’ll have to do to make up for it. It’s hard not to be a million pounds with Remy as a dad and an achilles heel for ice cream.” Trevor laughed genuinely and then scooped in a mouthful of strawberry goodness. Mmm, delicious! He opened his eyes after enjoying a moment of bliss with the ice cream and refocused on Sav. “How’s getting to know your dad going? That’s a big move to make, and I’m sure you had like… expectations or something. Do you like him?” More importantly, do you like being here? Trevor didn’t ask that, but he thought it. What if it wasn’t going well and she would be moving back to Texas with her mom soon?

Ugh, now Sav was imagining Trevor at the gym, god he probably looked great with his shirt off… Refocusing after her micro daydream, she ate another scoop of ice cream. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t know what to expect. I heard stories about him from my mom, but I also heard things about him from the tabloids and stuff-” She stopped to clarify, realizing he may not understand what she was trying to say, “My dad is a producer, so people usually have a lot to say about him- but coming out here was the best decision I think I’ve made in a long time.” She completed her sentence with a smile, a genuine one. “I really do like my dad, we’ve become very close. And the move has been better than I could have imagined, I’m loving it here for so many reasons.” Savannah blushed, thinking to herself a very specific reason why she was so happy.

“I love that you’re here too.” He had said it without thinking first. Oh gosh, was that too much to say? It probably was. Should he try to make up for it… and say something else? No, that’d be more awkward. Just eat some ice cream. Trev did his best to prevent his face from going completely red and shoveled in another bite. He wasn’t quite able to form words again yet, so he hoped that she would somehow continue this conversation.

Sav’s heart skipped a beat at his comment. Josie was right, Josie was always right. This was going amazingly. Taking another spoonful of ice cream, she gave Trevor a reaffirming smile. “So how was your day today? Were your classes interesting?”

“They were all right. ‘Cept english, we got assigned our senior research projects today. I have to come up with a topic idea by next week… and I really dislike writing papers, so I’m not looking forward to it.” Trev admitted, knowing full well that he was talking to a junior journalist. She was probably stellar in english, A’s on every paper. She was probably good at everything, if he had to guess. “How about you, any nightmare projects?”

Sav smirked, knowing that this would ensure she’d get to hang out with him again soon. “I can help you if you want? English is kind of my thing.” On the subject of nightmare projects, her mind flipped to this afternoon’s events with Jacob. Man, that kid was nothing but bad news. Bringing it up as nonchalantly as she could, especially since she witnessed the two get into a fight, she tried to downplay his attitude. “Actually I do have one of those… Jacob and I have to do this project for our Mythology class. I’m usually fine working with a random partner, but he really rubs me the wrong way.” She explained, tossing her hair over her shoulder so she wouldn’t get ice cream in it… that would really suck.

“Oh, help me?” Trev blushed at the thought of being tutored by someone like Savannah. Normally he was the one doing the tutoring, but with younger kids that didn’t have to write research papers yet. It might be embarrassing, but it would also mean more time with her, and it would definitely help his grade. Win-win. “Sure, yeah, that’d be great. I’d like that!” Trevor agreed happily. His mood shifted considerably at Sav’s next comment. He got defensive at the mention of Jacob, and him being in any close proximity to her after what he had said. “Did he do something to rub you the wrong way?” His voice was calm and steady, but his heart was racing at the idea of possibly having to have another confrontation with the blond male. He’d set him straight if he had to.

Savannah sighed, looking up from her almost empty dish of ice cream at Trevor. She could tell he wasn’t too pleased with the fact she and Jacob were working together, and neither was she, especially after the way that the blonde hurt him yesterday. Ignoring the fact that Jacob practically flipped her textbook off the desk when he opened it unwantedly, she continued, trying to downplay this as much as she could. “No, he didn’t do anything… he’s just very abrasive and aggressive. The way he talks about football makes it seem like it’s a war to him.” Sav breathed another deep sigh, stirring her ice cream spoon a few times. She shouldn’t have brought this up, but it was too late now. “I’m not gonna lie, he does makes me a little nervous, I mean he busted your lip...But it’ll be fine, we only have to do a few more things for the project and then I won’t have to talk to him again.”

Trevor pursed his lips in a straight line as he clenched his teeth together. His facial expression plainly voiced his concern even if he did not vocalize it. Trev was overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting to protect her, and keep her safe, much like he had felt when he first met Riley, and still did. “You don’t have to be nervous around him. Not as long as other people are around. And if he says or does something off color, let me know. Okay?”

Sav sighed in relief, all the while realizing how kind Trevor was, willing to help her like that. Especially since she had seen him get angry at Jacob before, the redhead had a feeling she’d be fine as long as he was around. “Okay, yeah I’ll let you know.” Deciding to be bold, and even shocking herself, she reached out her hand and took a hold of his across the table. “Thank you.” She stated simply, a glimmering smile on her face.

In an instant, his mood shifted once again. His cheeks blazed with heat as he stared down at her hand. She was touching him. And she was so… soft. Trevor chewed at his lip and then, in a surprising feat of bravery, he laced his fingers through hers. Trev looked up from their hands and gazed into her eyes. “Of course.” He smiled, and everything was right in the world once more.

CANCELLED.

_{Collab Featuring: Dixon@Silent Observer & Katie & Noah@smarty0114
Mentions: Owen@Universorum
Day: Tuesday Morning
Location: Mrs. Winship’s Homeroom}

A haunting C sharp rang out through the practice room as Johnny Dixon played the final note of his original piece, one that he was planning to perform at the upcoming drama club’s fundraising talent show. It still needed a lot of work, and much like the boy who composed it, the piece was imperfect, and finicky. The mood wasn’t right, and it certainly wasn’t illustrating his emotions properly. Not that Dixon would own up to it, but this was because he wasn’t admitting the emotions that he was trying to portray to himself yet. The melody felt trapped, and that’s what would make it beautiful to any outsider that might hear him playing. It was trapped, just like he was. There was emotion and passion in the music, it just wasn’t what he had meant for it to be — it was better, but he would never see it that way.

Being a creator was maddening at times, so it was no mystery to JD as to why many of the greats fell prey to their insanities. He could relate. Sighing, JD pulled his bow away from the A string and let the room fall into deafening silence. It was peaceful, for a moment. That was what this was meant to be… peaceful. Even when Dixon didn’t have a talent show to prepare for, he spent most mornings alone in the practice room with his beloved Ella. This regular morning practice, like taekwondo, had been recommended by Dr. Thomas. He said that routines could be healthy, that they were a calming constant to a mind so frequently wrapped up in chaos.

JD placed Ella and her bow in a velvet-lined case with an intimate, delicate touch. Everything about JD’s music and artistry stood in stark contrast to the turbulent way that he lived the rest of his life. When the case was clasped closed, the gentle part of himself was shut away for the day. He was in the process of placing his viola in one of the many metal compartments in the instrument locker room when the door a few feet away burst open. He tilted his head back enough past the locker door to see the familiar frame of one particular upperclassman drama star. The cute one.

No! Not the cute one... What? Just like he shut the metal locker in front of him, JD slammed that thought to the back of his mind. It was curious, though, that Marshall was back here at this time of day. Usually the only people JD ran into here at this hour were fellow band geeks and orchestra nerds. His cat-like curiosity got the best of him, and he wandered over to the practice room that the taller boy had holed himself up in.

Standing on his tiptoes, Dixon peeked through the small window just in time to see Marshall forcefully kick the single chair in the center of the practice room towards the back corner. Yikes. That kind of rage was familiar, JD could both sympathize and relate to it. Briefly, he considered walking in and seeing if there was anything that he could do to help — but the popular drama king was then quickly reduced to a crying heap on the floor. Double yikes. Dixon immediately ducked back down so that he was flat on his feet once more. He felt guilty that he had so blatantly intruded on what seemed to be a very personal moment. Part of him still wanted to help, but that would mean admitting to having seen the whole thing, which he wasn’t willing to do.

Instead of sticking around the music rooms to be caught as a spy, JD made his way towards homeroom. He was already late, but he was a straight A student (looks can be deceiving), so Mrs. Winship likely wouldn’t care. Not that she really cared regardless of your grades, but JD didn’t know that about her yet. This was his first semester with Winship as a homeroom teacher, and he’d missed homeroom yesterday, so he didn’t really know her quirks. Dixon paused in the doorway of the classroom, unsure of where to seat himself. He didn’t want to be a clingy younger brother and sit next to Trev, and he didn’t want to be the annoying freshman to sit by Owen, and he also didn’t really have that many other friends, so… this was a tough decision. Relenting to just sit by himself in proper emo fashion, Dixon attempted to slink towards the back of the room unnoticed.

”DIXON!”

Katie had stood up from her chair, waving at the boy, cheerful as ever. Her shout had drawn the attention of most of the class, leading Noah to put his head down, his face red from the attention Katie had brought to them. Katie however, couldn’t have cared less. She reveled in the attention she was receiving, even if her friend didn’t.

Dixon startled. Why on earth was someone yelling his name? The friendly version too, not JD, or Johnny. Dixon. He peeked up through a curtain of bright green and brown fringe to see Katie Callaghan, standing up from her chair and waving him over. Dixon ducked his head down and headed in that direction, if only to get her to sit back down and not be so… loud? JD didn’t like being at the center of attention, not even when he was on the stage playing. It was embarrassing. “Hi,” he greeted his theater friend meekly and took a seat.

Katie grinned, returning to her seat as JD headed over and sat down next to her and Noah. She liked JD, all things considered. She’d met him through drama club, seeing as how he was part of the orchestra, and as reluctant as he’d been to let her in, Katie was a persistent girl. She had made sure they became friends. “Dixon, this is Noah, I’m sure I’ve told you about him. Y’know, the one that does all the art? Noah, this is Dixon,” Katie said.

Noah was doing his best to blend in, up until Katie went and introduced him to her friend. Why did she always do that? His face still tinged pink, a reminder of the intense blush he’d had kicking moments ago. He brought his head up, his blue eyes halting on one… masterpiece. The first thing that Noah caught was his hair, bright green, radioactive almost. A warning sign that shouted “Noah! Don’t Touch!” but only made Noah want to touch him more. And the metal that poked out through the boy’s lips? Woah. This kid was just bursting at the seams with color and he was so… him. He didn’t give any fucks. Or at least, he didn’t seem like he did. Noah realized, after staring for what was probably way too long, that he hadn’t spoken yet. “Oh, uh, hi,” Noah said, trying his best not to panic, despite the telltale heat of blood rushing to his face.

At least Katie had stopped yelling when Dixon sat down, that was a relief. He hadn’t bothered to look at who was sitting next to her — JD made a habit of not really looking at people unless he was talking to them, and even then it was with limited eye contact, which was simply an odd social quirk that he had. Katie made quick work of forcing the young emo out of that by introducing whoever it was beside her. Noah... like the guy who loved animals and built a ship for them or whatever, Dixon recognized the name from previous conversations he’d had with her. By conversations, he mostly meant that she talked… and he listened. Katie was nice though, he liked Katie. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have come over here. JD looked up from his desk briefly to meet the eyes of this… oh wow, he didn’t look like some bible dude. Dixon’s gaze lingered for an uncharacteristically long couple of seconds before he focused it back at his hands atop the desk.

“Art’s cool.” Well, that was smooth. Was he trying to be smooth? No. Maybe… “I’m Dixon… or, JD. Dixon’s better though.” Like the last name of the Walking Dead guy, JD didn’t admit that, but if people associated him with being badass and killing zombies, that was cool with him.

Noah grinned, and looked down at the tile floor of their homeroom, doing his best to look away from this radioactive boy’s gaze. Two words, ‘Art’s cool,’ ran through his head, over and over. Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod! Noah’s stomach was doing flips, his heart was pounding, his palms were clammy. Was this radiation poisoning?

Katie on the other hand, was far from distressed by JD’s appearance, in fact, she’d long since stopped focusing too much on it. The kid dressed different and he dyed his hair bright colors. Big whoop. Instead she was focused on the more important things in life. Like where JD was gonna be tonight. “Dixon, you’re going to the Helmsley thing tonight, right? Me and Noah are going, we’ve gotta make sure my idiot brother doesn’t get his face pounded in,” Katie said, tilting her head over to where Jamie was sitting. Noah, having heard his name, looked up for a moment, clearly confused. “Oh I forgot to tell you. We’re going to the party,” Katie said, earning a resigned shrug from her friend. Noah had learned by now that Katie frequently got what she wanted.

“Helmsley thing?” Dixon looked up at Katie, meeting her eyes without much struggle. Katie was familiar enough of a person to get a full on look from JD, not just a sideways glance. He looked… confused. Although they were plastered all over the halls, he hadn’t seen the flyers. Dixon was often so far within his own head that he missed out on the happenings of his surroundings, especially when he had headphones in — which, he did this morning. “I mean, maybe? I’ve, uh… never been to a high school party before.” Or any party, really, besides a family gathering or birthday party.

What about Jamie’s face now? Dixon followed Katie’s gaze towards her brother, who was sitting at a table full of ladies, as per usual. The other token boy in that group wasn’t present. Weren’t they like… a thing, or something? JD remembered how angry he had seen Marshall earlier and his eyes widened… no way, that couldn’t be right… “Woah… w-who did that?”

“You’re kidding me, right? The Helmsley’s are throwing this party on their yacht. It’s gonna be wicked, I’m sure,” Katie explained, pulling a flyer out of her backpack and handing it to JD. “Jamie’s face? Owen Lyon.”

“What?!” Dixon hissed out in a shocked whisper, taking the flyer he was being handed without much thought. JD was close to the supposed perpetrator, very close. They sparred at the combat club all the time. They were friends. Owen’s dad was his mentor, one of his idols, even. “Owen, you’re sure?” He spoke quietly, his voice still colored with disbelief.

“Yeah, Jamie and him got into some scrap yesterday,” Katie said, careful not to hand out too many details. She knew Jamie’s job for Trixie was supposed to be on the downlow, and Katie didn’t want to blow his cover. “It’s not a big deal. But, what is a big deal, is the party. You’re coming, it’ll be ace, we’ll all have a good time,” Katie decreed, smiling. Noah shrugged, and chanced another glance at Dixon.

“Yeah, you should come,” Noah eeked out, trying to appear cool and collected, and landing somewhere closer to awkward and terrified.

Katie grinned. “See! Even Noah wants you to come! And how could you resist that pretty face?” Katie teased, nudging Noah playfully.

“Huh?” Dixon was thoroughly distracted from the fact his close friend might have beat some helpless kid up by the words ‘pretty’ and ‘face’ being used to describe this new acquaintance who did, in fact, have a pretty face. JD looked from Katie and then to Noah. A mistake, that was a mistake. He felt his lightly freckled cheeks grow warm in reaction to the other boy’s flushed expression. “Oh, yeah. It’s a... nice… face.” Holy crap, what? Move on, quickly! “Y-yeah, sure, I’ll go. I’ll, uhm, have to figure out what to tell my mom, though.” JD’s blushing increased tenfold and he kept his eyes on anything but Noah, or Katie, for that matter. What to tell his mom? Fuck, he was so lame…

Katie grinned, clapping her hands together with excitement. “Perfect! Just tell her you’re going to a study group and you’ll be home late. Works every time for me,” Katie said, seemingly unfazed by JD’s comment on Noah’s face.

Meanwhile, Noah had nearly died. He’d said he had a nice face. Wow. That was new. And exciting. And terrifying. And wow. He looked back up at Dixon, who’s attention was now held by Katie, and smirked ever so slightly. He could see the portrait he’d sketch the second he got a moment alone, of this boy, bright green spilling from everywhere, his mouth, eyes, nose, ears. Enchanting and dangerous. Radioactive.

CANCELLED.

_{Collab Featuring: Marshall@Silent Observer & Jamie@smarty0114 & AJ@Lovely Complex
Mentions: Owen & Ophelia@Universorum
Day: Tuesday Morning
Location: Halls of BHHS}

Still clutching the box of tea in his hands as if it were the most precious gift ever received, Marshall made his way to his locker. He was thoroughly and completely shook by the entire encounter with Owen that had occured just moments ago. The bloody gauze, his own fear, Owen’s look of disgust, and the fact that Owen just so happened to have a box of his favorite tea on his person, or at least in his car. What did that mean? Were they still friends? Enemies? Something else? Marshall wanted them to still be friends, he missed Owen terribly, and he was going to do his best to fix this.

One step at a time, though. Apparently, Marshall had become quite good at making messes lately, and it would probably be best to try to clean them up one at a time, rather than just swinging a broom around blindly and attempting to get it all in one sweep. He was gonna fix things with Jamie first, as he had already made inebriated plans to do so. And then Owen. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Marshall pulled out his phone to text his not-so hidden crush.

To: Jamie
meet me by my locker?

Marshall tapped the send button and immediately his stomach dropped. Oh shit. This was actually happening now. The Owen situation had been an unexpected distraction, but now he had just texted Jamie, and that meant that he would probably be coming soon. Their homeroom class was only just around the corner. Marshall spun the combination lock and opened his locker, at top speed, so that he could check his reflection. Gazing into the mirror, he messed with his hair until it looked as perfect as it possibly could.

Jamie felt his stomach lurch as his phone buzzed in his pocket, the tell tale sign of a new message. He fished the device from his pocket and swiped it open, examining the message from Marshall. Sighing, he stood up and left the classroom, weaving through the stream of his fellow students, nervously tapping out a beat on his leg.

He saw Marshall, looking into his mirror, messing with his hair. He couldn’t help the smirk that broke out across his face at the sight, a smirk that he quickly erased. Steeling himself, he walked over to the boy, biting his lip as the anxiety threatened to punch a hole straight through his chest. “Uh...hey,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly all too aware of his black eye, and every other imperfection he’d ever noticed on himself.

Marsh startled at Jamie’s voice. Embarrassed at having been caught amidst his coiffing, his cheeks grew warm. Despite that, he put on the the most stunning smile that he could muster before closing his locker to face the other boy. “Hi~” he greeted, still beaming.

Wait. Jamie’s face! Marshall’s smile quickly fell away, morphing into a look that closely resembled that of maternal concern. What happened to his eye? Without thought or reservation, Marshall stepped closer to him. Did Jamie get in fights? Marsh couldn’t recall that ever happening before. Jamie was a journalist, he certainly wasn’t a scrapper. Scrapping was Owen’s thing. Double wait. Owen… Marshall’s earlier conversation with the fighter played back in his mind at that moment. ‘... if I see him at the gym again. I’ll do more than what I did last time.’

“Oh my god!” Marshall gasped, his right hand dramatically flying up to his mouth in shock. Oh god, this was his fault! Owen did this because of him. Jamie was hurt because of him. There was no other explanation, at least not in Marshall’s mind. He was responsible for this.

Closing the distance between them, Marsh reached up towards Jamie’s cheek. With a touch softer than butterfly wings, Marshall’s fingertips barely grazed the skin just below Jamie’s injured eye. It was a far more intimate gesture than was likely appropriate, given the status of their relationship, but it was genuine. “Oh honey, what happened? What were you doing? What… what did you say to him?” He asked the questions in rapid succession, his eyes frantically scanning Jamie’s face for any other damage.

Jamie’s immediate instinct was to pull back, shying away from Marsh’s touch. He wasn’t exactly accustomed to people stroking his face, not since… well, not since AJ. His face grew warm at Marshall’s concern. God, this was embarrassing, showing up looking like he couldn’t hold his own in a fight.

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about it,” Jamie said, suddenly taking an interest in his shoes. Looking back up, he met Marshall’s gaze, his face returning to it’s normal complexion. “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk,” he said, cutting straight to the point.

Marshall frowned when Jamie flinched away. He pulled his hand back to his chest and looked relatively ashamed. “... Sorry,” he apologized softly. When Jamie mentioned that it was nothing to worry about, Marsh disregarded that entirely. It was too late for that, he was already worried, and he planned to continue to worry until he smoothed things over with Owen. “Just keep your distance from Owen for a while, okay? He… he told me to tell you not to show up at the gym again, or it’d be worse. And I know I can’t tell you to do anything… but… please don’t go back?

The darker-haired boy chewed at his lip when Jamie wanted to switch the subject. Marshall didn’t blame him, he didn’t like how widely broadcasted his own encounter with Owen had been either. He understood not wanting to be seen as weak, and respected the desire to changes topics. “Right… I wanted to talk about what happened, at the party. Rather, what didn’t happen at the party. You ran off before I could explain it, so, please don’t run away this time. Okay?”

Jamie ran a hand through his sandy hair, sighing. Marshall’s words implied that maybe, just maybe, this conversation might have a happy ending. “Okay, I will try my best to stay right here,” Jamie said, smirking as he let his hair fall back down over his forehead.

The hand in his hair, his words, the smirk, the hair again. Cute, oh my god, he’s so cute. Marshall felt himself being distracted from his original goal in this conversation. Focus, Marshall, focus and you’ve got this. “Good,” he said, returning the smirk. Now what? All of this time to prepare, and Marshall hadn’t even rehearsed his lines. This wasn’t acting, it was real life, and that made it hard as fuck to talk about. “Uhm, so… well. I kind of… needed a moment? A moment to myself. After Owen.”

It was Marshall’s turn to awkwardly run his hand through his hair. He wasn’t about to admit to Jamie that he was crying in the closet. That would be mortifying. Still, he had to clear his name somehow. “I went in that closet alone, I didn’t want or ask anyone to come in with me. It was just bad timing that someone else did. Nothing happened.”

Jamie nodded, chewing his lip nervously.

Nothing may have happened in the closet, but something definitely happened in the hallway. In front of all who were rushing to homeroom. If these two boys weren’t so enthralled with one another, they, or at least Marshall, would’ve noticed their classmate, same year and all, striding down the hall, with the the morning light streaming behind him from the side doors that were propped open. He had a swagger that was out of this world. He knew he was the shit, and if you didn’t know he was the shit, you would soon find out that he was the shit. The light caused a halo effect around his head, and made his shampooed, chocolate hair stand out. One of his best features. How do you define this guy? Classy clothes, classy watch, classy ‘tude.

Bold.

Without any hesitation, AJ Tyler, the notorious jock who did whatever the fuck he wanted, when he wanted, slid in front of the drama kid, making sure Marshall had a good sight of who was getting in between him and AJ’s ex-lover, and in one fluid motion, not even saying any words, he pulled Jamie into a kiss. Making sure his hand was in his ex-lover’s hair. The kiss was rough, long, and passionate. Seduction was child’s play in AJ’s world. The resistance would crumble once their lips joined. Whether Jamie wanted to admit it or not, he still had feelings for him, and AJ wasn’t going to stop until he had no other choice. Take it all in, babe.

Freeing Jamie from his grasp, AJ teasingly licked his lips, taking in the saliva left behind, before chuckling, “How’s my Wonder Boy doing?” Did Jamie break things off with him months ago? Absolutely. Was he going to stop with his advances? Not until Jamie showed signs he truly, deeply didn’t want him. AJ turned on his heel to acknowledge Marshall, “Oh, hey dude, how’s it going? I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.” If he did, he didn’t care.

Shattered. Marshall looked on, wide-eyed, as Jamie’s gorgeous ex-boyfriend stepped in between them and full on kissed Jamie Callaghan. Marsh’s heart was in shattered pieces, and surely shards of it would move through his bloodstream and kill him right where he stood. God, he hoped so, he’d rather be dead than be standing here right now. Everything had been going so well, too! They were finally going to talk it out and have a storybook happily ever after love story. Except for that was never going to be the case, because Marshall was an idiot, and he had misread everything. Here he was, trying to apologise to his crush about a boy that he didn’t even kiss because he thought that he was offended by the thought that Marshall might have kissed someone else. He felt like a complete fool, because obviously Jamie and AJ weren’t broken up, so Jamie didn’t even care. The evidence was right there in his face, in the form of Jamie’s devastatingly pretty, post-make out mussed hair.

“I —” Marshall began, and then paused. “It’s —” He looked from AJ to Jamie now. “Nevermind. I’ve clearly misread… many things. I’ve gotta go, yeah.” It was impressive that he managed to get all of that out without his voice cracking. He had felt the emotion clawing up his throat, attempting to choke off his words. Marshall turned on his heels then, and left the two lovers alone in the hallway. He wasn’t heading towards homeroom, though. To them it wouldn’t be clear where he was heading, but for him, it was to the safest and first place he could think to go; The music and theater wing. It had lovely soundproof practice rooms, where he could go and have himself a right and proper freak out without anyone but himself being wise to it. He would not show up in homeroom, and possibly not even to first period. The next time someone would hear from Marshall Radley, it would be through a text to Ophelia, not to the whole Candy group chat, just to his bestie.

To: Feels
u might wanna change my line from blue to black

Meanwhile, back at the site of the kiss, Jamie was livid. And confused. And livid. Very, very, livid. He took a step back from AJ, his ex boyfriend and maybe the most complicated relationship he had at the moment, although his and Marshall’s was becoming a close second. He’d broken up with AJ months ago, but that hadn’t exactly killed the physical aspect of their relationship, not that Jamie hadn’t tried. There was just...an allure to AJ that kept bringing Jamie back. And this had been the worst time to go back.

“AJ! Are you insane! I was— Marshall and I were...oh my fuck, this is so like you!” Jamie shouted, not a care in the world for the surrounding witnesses. He ran a hand through his sandy locks, his exasperation evident as he closed his eyes, struggling to regain his composure. AJ had just kissed him. And he’d kissed him back. And Marshall had seen. And why did everything bad always happen to him? “This, this, this thing we have going? It’s done, AJ,” Jamie shouted, storming off, his legs carrying him far away from AJ and Marshall and every other ailment this school brought upon him.

At first, Jamie’s reaction amused AJ, but then watching him say ‘it’s done’ again and walk away from him again... that caused the jock’s fist to ball up. He looked around at all the witnesses and then let his smirk mask his feelings in the moment, “Enjoyed the show? I hope you took pictures.” He winked at a girl, who had her phone’s camera aimed at him. She had started recording the moment AJ grabbed ahold of Jamie. After that devilish gesture, he turned on his heel and strolled down the hall, seemingly unbothered. Under his breath, he told himself, “You’ll come back. You always do.”

CANCELLED.

_{Collab Featuring: Marshall@Silent Observer & Owen@Universorum
Day: Tuesday Morning
Location: The Parking Lot of BHHS}

Marshall Radley once again found himself with a lot on his mind. How did his life suddenly get like this? He might be a drama star, but he was never much of a fan of tragedies. Now he was living one. He did drugs last night, for God’s sake. Not the cute gummy edible kind, either, he actually smoked pot — like some kind of… delinquent. Also, candy and multiple pieces of pizza in the same night? So much for a healthy diet. He was on a bender. Marsh was only almost-seventeen years old, and he was already having a damned mid-life crisis.

Thankfully, Marshall hadn’t gotten so wrecked that he couldn’t remember what had happened last night. He remembered it, all right. How could he forget? Apparently, a stoned Marshall gets even more confident than a regular Marshall, and he finds it appropriate to commit the weed equivalent of drunk-texting his crush. Jesus Christ… Marshall cringed at the thought of it. It’s not like he just texted Jamie, either. It was a pouty snapchat selfie captioned: can we talk tm? Thank God the picture had only existed in cyberspace for a few moments before disappearing, without screenshot. Marshall knew Jamie saw it, though… because he had responded. So much cringe.

Marsh sat in the front seat of his iridescent purple Mini, contemplating the fact that he was about to make his second attempt at explaining the party situation to Jamie. Hopefully, with a bit more success and far less interruption, this time. Although he had gotten ripped with Kit and slept over at Candyland, he asked Ophelia to give him a ride home early this morning to prepare for this conversation. If he was going to try to talk to Jamie, he needed to look really good, and certainly not look like he had gotten super baked the night before. Ohmygod, what if I looked high in the snapchat?

Sighing at the foolishness of his past self, Marshall stepped out of his car. He grabbed his leather messenger bag of schoolwork from the passenger’s seat, and his thermos of organic Throat Coat tea — which was a singer’s best friend. What was done, was done, it was time to own this chat, fix things, and totally woo Jamie Callaghan. Marshall spun on his heel confidently, and turned to see… well, the car of the last person he would want to see whilst alone. He was so startled that he jerked back and lost his grip on the porcelain Starbucks travel mug in his hand. The vessel shattered noisily, wasting the precious hot tea inside, and unfortunately drawing unwanted attention to himself. “Fuck!” Marsh exclaimed as he ducked down to pick up the larger pieces. Maybe he could go unnoticed…

Spoiler alert: he couldn’t.

But did Owen even have anything to say to Marshall? Not really, he didn’t. He didn’t have anything to say to someone who’d abandoned him when he needed him most. Someone who had chased greener pastures when things got glum for Owen Lyon. But, Owen had to make a point, and honestly? In a way, he got a sick pleasure from the way Marshall was treating him after their last confrontation. Owen sat in his car, watching Marshall scramble to pick up the remains of his tea cup, and he shook his head. Before he opened his car door, he grabbed something out of the side panel, sticking it in his pocket. He pressed the button on his car door, and it slowly shut behind him, clicking. He stepped across the parking lot, and stood in front of Marshall as he picked up his shattered glass.

“Marshall, get up.” Owen hissed, standing over his ex-friend. Owen’s left hand was still covered in gauze, though it was less bloody than the stuff he’d had on the night before. His mother had made him change it out, but the wounds still bled a bit, and even the fresh gauze had the dark red stains.

Marsh yelped lightly at Owen’s voice. He had purposefully been looking at the ground and busying himself with the task of picking up pieces. This was a mistake, as it only led to him being startled yet again. Marsh let the shards of porcelain fall back down and stood up quickly. Fear made him extremely responsive to the command, and it also caused him to cautiously back up into the driver side door of his purple car. Shit.Shit.Shit. Panic colored his thoughts as his heart hammered in his chest. Marshall was going to actually die this time, and there was no one around to stop it, or even see it.

Owen watched as Marshall backed away from him as if he were the devil. What a child. “Marshall!” Owen barked, to try and snap him out of it. He realized, though, that it wasn’t going to exactly make things better. The last thing Marshall wanted to hear was Owen’s voice with all that… force behind it. But then again, did it even matter what Marshall wanted? Not really.

“I’m sorry!?” Marshall barked back, his eyes had grown wide. It was an exclamation. It was a question. It was an apology. Marsh was confused. Owen was just… standing there, and yelling at him. Did he want something? Was he… was he going to hit him? Marsh did his best to meet Owen’s gaze, afraid that he was going to see the same look in his eyes that he had seen at the party. But, Owen was one of his best friends, so he couldn’t just… not look. “I’m sorry.”

“You really should be,” Owen said with an undeniable bluntness in his voice. His eyes weren’t angry. The fire in them seemed to have been significantly dulled, and he looked at Marshall almost as if he were gross. No, it seemed that Owen was not going to hit Marshall. Marshall, for now, was safe. “Just let Jamie know that I was serious. I don’t ever want to talk to him again, and if I see him at the gym again. I’ll do more than what I did last time.” Owen spoke in a low whisper, almost frighteningly calm, before he reached out with his injured hand, holding out the object he’d taken out of his car: a packet of the tea that Marshall loved.

“What?” His voice was more calm now, but still a little higher pitched than normal. Perhaps it was the mention of Jamie, that had caught him off guard. Owen knew that Marsh liked him, Owen was the first person to know, actually, besides Marsh himself. But what did Jamie have to do with this? Marshall was distracted from his thoughts by the bandaged hand that was offering him a box of Throat Coat. He gingerly accepted it, somehow managing to feel guilty in doing so. Owen was being nice to him, and he didn’t feel like he deserved that. The last he knew, Owen had wanted to kill him. Now this? “Thanks.”

Marshall’s eyes went from the box of tea, to Owen’s eyes, and then back down to Owen’s hand. The gauze wasn’t a good sign. Marsh had seen that before in the aftermath of one of the Lyon’s rage-filled outbursts. He could very well be hiding broken bones under those wrappings, with how hard he was capable of hitting things. “Are you… okay? Should we go to the nurse?”

Owen froze as Marshall looked at his hand, and seemed to be considering something. Here we go. Owen let Marshall finish, but after he asked about the nurse, Owen’s lips curled up into a scowl, and he shook his head aggressively, the fire seemingly relit. “I don’t need no help. Least of all from you, Sprinkles,” Owen hissed, turning around and adjusting the backpack that hung on his shoulder, stomping off toward the school without a further word.

Ouch. Marsh didn’t know it was possible for a special nickname to hurt that much. Apparently even cute words could cut when they were wielded like a blade. Marshall stood stunned, cradling a box of tea in both hands as if it were precious and fragile, as he watched his best guy friend walk away from him. He was going to fix this too… he had to. Owen might be a cheat, but, maybe Marshall could get past that. Everyone makes mistakes…