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Hey Im Jordan male Member

Surpass Your Limits!

STATUS: HE MADE GRADUATION 3 mos ago
Avatar of Hey Im Jordan

Status

Recent Statuses

3 mos ago
Current HE MADE GRADUATION
1 like
6 mos ago
who me?
1 like
6 mos ago
I wanna play too
2 likes
7 mos ago
just rewatched hart vs austin at mania 13 last night, it will always be a classic
3 likes
7 mos ago
AUSTIN 3:16 SAYS I JUST WHOOPED YOUR ASS
3 likes

Bio







black clover shit incoming

Most Recent Posts

In BHHS: Limitless → 7 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


welcome to the party pal!
In BHHS: Limitless → 7 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


accepted bro
In BHHS: Limitless → 7 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



____________________________________________________________________

The smell of breakfast was what woke him from his slumber. With the constant physical activity he did, Michael tended to sleep like a rock, but the smell of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns brought him back to life. He slowly threw one leg over the bed and lazily sat himself up. Was he always this tired? Maybe his mom was right, maybe he did need to quit the job if he was going to be this focused on his fitness, sports, and trying to get into a good college. His head hurt, something to do with staying up too late the night before — or maybe overworking himself at the gym? Staying up wasn’t his fault! Between all of the obligations he had, he basically only had the dead of the night to do what he wanted.

He moved slowly, but he eventually made it up and out of the bed, grabbing the Rubik’s cube on his desk as he headed toward the door. It took him even longer to get downstairs, and when he made it to the kitchen he was still wearing his pajamas - flannel pants and no shirt. It wasn’t like it mattered, his mother was working another overnight at the lab, which left only Michael, his dad Damian, and his youngest brother Samuel at the house.

Which was probably why as he approached the table, he could hear the sounds of a Nintendo Switch emanating from the dining room. His father was still standing over the stove, flipping blueberry pancakes over. Samuel, however, was sitting at the table and pressing buttons on his Switch. The tired Mikey took a seat across from Sam and stared at him. “Didn’t mom say not to play games at the table?” He asked as he turned the Rubik’s cube in his hands. Rubik’s cubes were easy, they had patterns.

“Mom’s not here!” Samuel chirped in response.

“I didn’t know that turned her rules off.” Mikey hissed as he narrowed his eyes. There was a certain bitterness to his tone, nothing out of line for an older sibling talking to a younger one, but it was still notable. In his hands, he shuffled the Rubik’s cube, getting it ready to play with while he ate his breakfast. His dad walked to the table with a huge plate of food that he dropped in front of Michael.

“Come on, Mike. Your mom’s at the lab, so that means it’s dad’s rules. And dad’s rules are: breakfast, served twice a day, video games at the table, and best of all —” Damian, his father, explained with a grin toward his younger son as Samuel’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“We get to watch scary movies and stay up late!”

“That’s correct.”

Michael didn’t respond, mostly because he was busy shoveling food into his mouth as fast as possible. His body had a desperate need for fuel. It was almost impressive how fast he was getting through the plate, but of the people in the house, Michael certainly burned through the most calories. He tore a piece of bacon with his teeth and spoke while chewing, “whatever! I don’t want to listen to Fortnite while I’m trying to eat, man.” He said, glancing at his father, but Damian just shrugged and returned to the stovetop. Michael would want more food after he was done with this plate, Damian remembered what he was like when he was a teenager.

“Don’t worry about it, dad. He’s just mad because he’s never won! Even though it’s a game for kids.” Samuel’s voice was undeniably smug as he taunted his brother, before there was a loud THUD! followed by Samuel squeaking, “OW! DAD! MICHAEL THREW HIS STUPID RUBIK’S CUBE AT ME!” Michael had pitched the puzzle box at his little brother, tagging him square in the chest.

“Boo frickity hoo, mom’s not here. So her rules don’t apply.” Michael leaned across the table, reaching for his Rubik’s cube, but Samuel dropped his Switch and snatched the cube up in one smooth motion. He jumped away from the table as his older brother complained. “Give it back, dude! Do you know how hard it is to find a genuine one these days!?”

“I’m gonna mess it all up first, you butthole.”

“DAD! HE CALLED ME A BUTTHOLE!”

“You hit him with a Rubik’s cube, big dog! What do you expect?”

Michael sunk back into his chair in frustration. “Fine. Mess it up. It only takes me like thirty seconds to fix it! Did you forget about that?!” He demanded, with a mouthful of potatoes in his mouth. He was talking with his mouth full way more often than he would have with his mother there, but he figured if the rules were different for Sammy… they were different for him too.

“Okay… I guess I’ll just do this.” Samuel lifted up his arm, like he was going to spike the cube onto the ground, but he tensed up as Michael jumped out of his chair, a piece of pancake still on his fork. Samuel watched closely as his older brother tore the flapjack from the fork and chewed it aggressively with wide eyes that could only be described as ‘crazy.’ He slowly brought the Rubik’s cube back down and placed it gently on the table.

Michael nodded and sat back down, using the side of his fork to rip off another piece of the pancake. Samuel wasn’t going to let his elder brother have the last laugh, though. “You’re just mad because you’ve never gotten a Victory Royale.” He said with a devilish grin, and Michael immediately dropped his silverware.

“DAD! YOUR SON’S A DICK!”

“What the fuck is a victory royale?” Damian asked as he walked back into the kitchen, dumping another pile of food on to Michael’s nearly clean plate. “And don’t call your brother a dick! He’s a kid.” Damian shook her head as he unloaded the last couple of pancakes onto Samuel’s plate. “You need to take Sammy to school today. I gotta do… house stuff.” Damian had been given a list by his wife before she’d left, but he hadn’t even started yet. Some of it, he decided, he would call Trevor for.

Michael looked up and sighed, “after he was just a little butthead!? Come on, dad. You take him. Make him walk or ride the bus. I don’t wanna have to deal with him. And a victory royale is a Fortnite thing. It’s just what winning is called in it —”

“And Mikey’s never won because he sucks. He even makes me lose when we play together!” Samuel said, and Michael scowled. Damian sighed and shook his head.

“Be nice to your brother! He’s gotta take you to school, little dude. You wanna walk?” Damian asked, and Samuel seemed to think about it for a minute before shaking his head no and starting to eat in silence. Damian let out a relieved sigh and smiled, “I told Joy I had it under control.”

A few minutes later, Michael and Samuel were in his car and heading down the road toward Samuel’s school first. As they drove, Michael decided — perhaps foolishly — to open up the conversation that had started at the breakfast table. “Listen, dude. I can win a fuckin’ game of Fortnite, okay? I just haven’t yet because I don’t really play.” Michael said, glancing over at his brother only briefly as they pulled into the parking lot of the elementary school Samuel attended.

“No you can NOT, dude! I’ve watched you play video games, and like, you’re good at everything else in life… but man when you pick up a controller you run into the wall like an idiot!”

“You’re lucky I didn’t run this car into oncoming traffic, you little brat!” Michael clapped back, slapping the steering wheel. He did not give a vocal response for the simplest reason: he did not have one. Samuel was right, he sucked at video games, it was so embarrassing sometimes. Video games were meant for children, and Michael even liked playing them! But he had no Victory Royales, no Fall Guy crowns, no Warzone Dubs… He barely even made it through 2K’s career mode.

“Listen, dude. If you can get a SINGLE Victory Royale, I’ll do all your chores for a month. I mean, it’s like, pathetic at this point. You embarrass me when you join my lobbies and you don’t even have the umbrella.”

Michael swallowed his pride and nodded. “You have a deal.” He said through clenched teeth. Samuel grinned and threw open the door before he froze with eyes as wide as a deer in the headlights. Michael knew something was wrong, something was horribly wrong. Cautiously, he asked in a gentle voice. “...everything okay?”

“I forgot my backpack! Usually mom grabs it, but she’s not here so I just… forgot. Can we go back and get it!?” Samuel was having a moment of crisis. His backpack had his whole life in it, including most importantly the homework he’d worked so hard on the night before. Homework, he’d found, was a lot harder when dad was helping him with it instead of his mom. It wasn’t his dad’s fault; Joy O’Connor was a once-in-a-lifetime genius, and Damian O’Connor was a retired professional football player. The gap between them when it came to math, even fourth grade math, was astronomical.

“What!? No! I have to go to school too… I’ll just text dad. He’ll grab it for you, okay? Don’t worry about it, just go to class. If your teacher says anything, just try to ignore ‘em. Dad’ll be here lickety split, we both know he’s got nothing better to do, alright?” Michael said, and Samuel meekly nodded, the look of despair still in his eyes. Michael got it. He’d had the same fourth grade teacher, and Ms. Wik was a fucking bitch - though Michael would never vocalize that to Samuel.

He reached across the center console and ruffled Samuel’s hair, and grinned. He was trying to reassure his little brother. As much of a little shithead as Sammy was, he was ultimately Michael’s little shithead, and he wouldn’t change his brother, or really any member of his family, for anything. “Trust me. You’re gonna be fine, and if you’re not? Me, you, and Ethan will go TP her house. Got it? Now go get it done.”

Samuel seemed to accept this and he nodded, “okay… Thanks, bro.” He opened the door and returned the thumbs up that Michael gave him. A sacred promise between brothers.

With that out of the way, Michael quickly wrote a text to his dad to bring his brother’s backpack to the school and then he drove off, headed toward the high school where his own life awaited him. As he drove, he schemed in his head - how was he supposed to get a Fortnite Victory Royale? That game was fucking hard; he didn’t even understand how his brother did so well in it, but then he and his brother had never won together before… Did he know anyone in BHHS who was good at video games…?






Small FT: Dylan @smarty0114

“I told my mother, my brother
My sister, and my friends
Told the others, my loves,
both past and present tense
That every time I see you, everything
starts makin’ sense
Do your thing honey!”

As Nicky Snyder sang, he scribbled with his pencil on a piece of printer paper he’d snatched when Phoenix had looked the other way. Frankly, Nicky didn’t see the point to a homeroom class like this. Shouldn’t they be in classes where they actually learned something? Or, if not that, doing anything else? He didn’t get why there were so many requirements in high school. It was high school. Arrive. Do school work. Leave. Why was it anything more than that?

He was doing an excellent job of ignoring everyone else in the world, but maybe it was the THC that was still flowing through his bloodstream that kept him locked in on his ‘artwork.’ Bobbing his head up and down to the music that was blasting in his headphones, Nicky was currently doing his absolute best to make a Flip-o-Rama reminiscent of the Captain Underpants books he and Dylan had read in the past — and sometimes in the present. The future? Most definitely.

“Ain’t no other man can stand up next to you
Ain’t no other man on the planet does what —”


Nicky’s shitty whisper-singing came to a rapid close as he felt his headphones ripped off his head. He whipped his head to the side, shooting a glare in the direction of whoever it was. “Mikey, what the FUCK?! I was jammin’, dude. You never break someone’s concentration while they’re jamming.”

“I need a favor.” Michael sighed, shaking his head. Wasn’t there anyone else in this class who could win a game of Fortnite? His only options to win the bet with his younger brother were Cheech and Chong? Michael wasn’t sure who Nicky thought he was fooling, he could still smell the scent of marijuana radiating off of him. People knew, Nicky. They definitely knew.

“What!? Aren’t you elite! Get the elite to do it - this ain’t a charity case, broski.” Nicky said, before turning his attention back down to his drawing. He did, however, let his headphones fall around his neck. He was listening, for whatever it was worth. It was also made quickly apparent that he wasn’t done talking, “man, you gotta be truly desperate to come to me for help. This is gonna be some of the dumbest shit I ever heard, huh?”

“I need you to get me a win in Fortnite by Monday.”

“What?! That’s a ridiculous request! That’d be like me telling you I need a date to homecoming and the part-”

“Done. Easy.” Michael said, ready to make a trade offer that was heavily Nicky sided if it meant he could finally have that stupid umbrella that had eluded him for so long. “I’ll get you a date, and you, the date, and Dylan can kick it with me and the boys the whole time. King treatment.” Mikey didn’t think to ask his friends if that was okay, but then he found himself not really caring. Chances were, the only one who might say anything was Theo - and Theo could be drowned out by others.

Nicky thought about it. Michael grew visibly frustrated, but Nicky seemed to be enjoying this temporary exchange of power, “yo, Dyl. What do you think? Deal… or no deal?”

“This is stupid! This is like a hold up. What else could you two possibly want!?” Michael was getting openly exasperated, and quickly remembering why he did his best to avoid this particular duo.

Dylan slowly spun his chair around, slouching with his arms across his chest. “You come to us, on this day of celebration, and you ask for a favor?” Dylan said, his voice contorted into what might’ve been the worst Marlon Brando impression ever performed. He almost asked Mikey to kiss the ring, but he figured that would be pushing his luck. Besides, there was something else he wanted wayyyy more than a kiss from Mikey O’Connor. A boy was simply not complete without his bullhorn. Dylan steepled his fingers and grinned over them at Mikey, a fox in teenage boy’s clothing. “Tell me, Michael, how good are you at breaking and entering?”
In BHHS: Limitless → 7 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Starring: Owen Lyon
Featuring: Troy Lyon & David Powers
Location: The Lyon's Den ➜ The School Parking Lot
Time: 7:00 AM ➜ Just Before the First Bell!



From the outside looking in, the building looked rather dilapidated. At first glance it even looked more like a warehouse than anything, with no clear advertisement on the outer walls, and the sheet metal door sticking out like a sore thumb surrounded by the glam and glitz of downtown Beverly Hills High. It wasn’t always so bad, but without someone to watch over it for the past year or so, time was winning the battle. Paint needed to be reapplied, one of the windows was boarded up… it was a mess.

Faded advertisements were pasted on the building, proudly declaring it The 365 Combat Club. The club had stood for many years as one of many combat gyms in the LA area. There was nothing special about it. It didn’t have the newest equipment, it didn’t have the best trainers. It wasn’t like the 365 boasted a secret training technique to go from zero to hero; in fact, the old owner was quite fond of saying the only secret ingredients to success were hard work and dedication.

By the time he’d gotten old and frail, the only people left were those dedicated few. When the owner had passed, the 365 shuttered its doors and its fate was unknown for a while.

Until, almost overnight, the new owners arrived and made changes. Though the label on the gym door still said ‘The 365,’ the window and door both had new logos naming the place The Lyon’s Den and small text underneath saying ‘combat club and gym.’ Today was the first day of the gym’s second life, and to top it off, the new owner’s son was standing on a ladder balanced precariously against the wall of the warehouse building his family would now proudly call their second home.

With a hammer in one hand and banner in the other, Owen Lyon was trying to figure out the easiest way to get a nail from between his teeth and into the hole where he could hammer it in. This was the last thing he was expected to do until he could finally leave and go to school, something he was so excited for that it honestly disturbed him.

The truth was, he was basically his father’s prisoner. Before they had left their old town, Owen had gotten in trouble for being the centerpiece of a brawl at a sporting event. In his head, Owen counted it as a victory - he stood the tallest at the end, and that counted for something. He had hoped to sell his dad with that line, but his dad was just pissed he got in a fight outside of the gym. Again. And in public! Owen was lucky he was still allowed to drive himself around town, even if he had to drive his mom’s minivan.

He leaned his body up against the wall to hold up the banner as best he could. He took his free hand to grab one of the nails he held between his teeth and jammed it into the hole on the banner before he slammed it with his hammer. Bang! Bang! The ladder shook with each blow, and Owen found himself briefly concerned with falling off the ladder, and even more briefly he compared himself to a modern day Martin Luther. After all, the gym was basically his church.

Inside the gym, the sound of the hammer hitting the wall reverberated through the building. There were only two occupants, one laying in the center of the sparring ring near the middle of the gym, and one resting on a bench. On the bench, the man had his feet resting on a skateboard. His legs moved a million miles a minute, sliding side to side as he waited for something, anything to happen. When the hammering started, he jumped in his seat. “Christ!” He said, shaking his head as he looked across at his older brother - Owen’s father, Troy. “Are you sure he should be doing that alone?”

Troy sat up and shot his younger brother a scowling look. “You for real? Owen can hang a fuckin’ banner on his own. He’s damn near a grown man, but don’t tell Ky that.” He shook his head and grabbed the ropes to pull himself to his feet. “Why are you even here, Davy? Don’t you have anything better to do?” He asked, leaning on the ropes to peer down at Davy as the banging came to an end, and Owen’s work seemed to be complete. “For fuck’s sake, you have a toddler at home.”

Davy shrugged his shoulders. That was true, he did have a baby at home, but he felt like he needed to be with his brother and nephew, “Ely said it’s cool if I take a couple mornings to come here and make sure you and our little I.E.D. aren’t up to no good. Besides, if anything I get stressed with the baby. She’s so… small. I didn’t know they were that small!” He exclaimed, shaking his head.

“I don’t like when you call me that. I’m not even that explosive!” Owen had arrived on the scene, heading back inside to tell his father the deed was done before he went to school, but he’d caught the last part of what his uncle had said and felt a need to defend himself. Unfortunately, it was disastrous as both Davy and Troy burst into laughter. “I’M NOT. I’m not! I’ve never gotten mad or hit someone who didn’t deserve it! I just get angry sometimes. That’s messed up.” Owen frowned as he looked between the two older men, wanting one of them to say something, anything.

“I’m getting a beer. Owen, don’t go anywhere.” Troy finally said, hopping out of the ring. Owen seemed noticeably displeased with what he’d said, but didn’t protest and didn’t move either. Like a good soldier, Owen was awaiting orders.

On the other hand, Davy’s life wasn’t decided by Troy’s mood, and he was happy to poke the bear. “What are you talking about? A beer? Dude, it’s like 7 AM - HEY!” Davy was cut off of his words by Troy leaning down to snatch the joint he held between his fingers. Wagging a finger at his younger brother, Troy tutted.

“New dads shouldn’t be high. And what are you talking about? I’m a grown man with two grown ass kids, I can drink whenever I damn well fuckin’ please. You look like a hypocritical asshole, judging me for a beer with breakfast while you get ready to smoke a jay in the gym. Read the fucking rules. There are two rules.” Troy said, pointing toward the chalkboard hanging on the wall. In the corner, it had a message, written in the flowery printing of his wife.

Hello new gym people! Please make sure to follow these very important rules:

  • no smoking
  • no bitching whining

Thank you and we hope you enjoy your time here!

Davy shrugged. “Point made.”

“I wish she hadn’t put the thank you, but she’s pretty amped about the opening. So fuck off and follow my wife’s rules.” Troy pocketed the joint he’d snatched and then looked back at his son. For the time being, it seemed, he’d forgotten about the morning beer and was once again locked in on Owen. “Speaking of rules, Mr. Owen. I got some you need to follow. You’re going to BHHS now, and keeping it real? That place sucks. I wish you didn’t have to graduate from there, but I had to come back and save the gym before they declared it condemned.

I have some advice.”

“I don’t need advice. It’s fucking high school. I’m gonna keep my head down, finish up my last year, and then go to college. Wooooooooo, Chico State.” Owen said, mockingly lifting his arms up and flailing them around. “Maybe I’ll get a real job. Unlike Ruby.” Owen couldn’t help but smirk as he took the opportunity to dunk on his sister. It was especially sweet to do it when she wasn’t present to defend herself. Unfortunately for him, their father was.

“Rule number fuckin’ one! Don’t disrespect your sister in front of company -”

“This isn’t company. This is Davy.”

“Okay. Ouch.”

“RULE NUMBER TWO. Don’t interrupt me, boy wonder.” Troy said in a snippy voice, folding his arms over his chest. There were very few things in this world that annoyed Troy more than being interrupted, and unfortunately for Owen, disrespect for his daughter was up there too. He huffed and shook his head, before carrying on. “Look, son. I did my time at BHHS. It isn’t like normal schools, that’s why I told Kylie no when she suggested we move back here to be closer to family. That school? It breeds hate and drama. I don’t know what it is, but the four years I was there? Hell. Literal, actual, factual hell. I got involved in a drug war. I was seventeen. It’s probably the fuckin’ same old shit. First rule. Find Scott, and stick close to whoever he hangs out with.”

“Who’s Scott? Scott like, my cousin Scott? Dad, I only talk to him at Christmas parties.” Owen explained, shaking his head. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to be worried about. It was a school, and he only had a matter of months left anyway, then before anyone knew it, he’d be out and on his way. “Dude, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“No, no. Your dad has a point. It was weird for my time too - there was a beach party, and someone writing a LiveBlog about the school used it to try and succesfully! start a social war. Me? I was, uh, sixteen. Happy to say I was never implicated!” Davy beamed, as if there were something to be proud of in his statement. “The Weekend Warrior, it was called. Or something like that? It’s probably still up.”

“Always something with that fuckin’ place. You better not get involved in no drug wars, no social wars, and no goddamn fights. Don’t associate with anyone named Green, they’re probably evil. Especially the women - not sexist, it’s just the truth - some of the guys are okay. Henry and I used to drink. Stick to people you know. Find Scott, and stick to him. Listen, Owen. This has gotta go well, I don’t wanna hear nothin’ about no fights, no spunky scraps, no women -” “Something tells me that won’t be a problem.” “ - What did I just say about interrupting me? Fine, you don’t wanna go hang out with Scott? Fine. Whatever.” Owen shrugged and Troy sighed, trying to remember where he was. “Forget it. The most important rule, the number one rule of BHHS, is simple. DTA. Don’t. Trust. Anybody. Snakes in the grass, the lot of ‘em. I don’t even want to be here as a fuckin’ adult, but they wanted to condemn the gym. My gym. Fuck that!” Feeling himself get on a tangent, Troy paused and took a breath to halt it before he looked back at Owen.

“Understood?” Owen nodded and Troy stepped forward to stand in front of his son. Thinking the situation was a little dicey, Owen visibly tensed up. It wasn’t unlike his father to go for a takedown as a test, and he needed to be prepared. He flinched as Troy lifted up a hand… and then lazily brought it down on his left shoulder, then up over his head and onto his right shoulder. “Good. Then I absolve you of your sins.”

“Does that… did I sin? What are you talking about? Am I an Avenger now?” Owen asked his father. Before his father could respond, a chuckle came from his uncle, and Owen turned his attention in that direction.

“It means you’re not in trouble anymore, little dude.”

“Davy’s right. Go be a kid. Oh, I’m gonna need the minivan today, so…” Troy dug around in his pocket and fished out the key to his beloved car, which he tossed to Owen. Owen watched it sail through the air, and found himself too stunned to catch it. “You can take mine. Jesus, Owen. What is wrong with you? When my dad said I could drive his car? I was amped.” Troy shook his head, but Owen’s brain was still running a million miles a minute just to try and keep up with the situation.

“So, let me get this straight… I’m free, and I get your car?” Owen asked, and Troy nodded. Owen frowned. There must have been a catch. One he didn’t see, or something like that. There was something his dad wanted from him, he knew that much… it was just figuring it out what it was. “What’s the deal?” He asked, and Troy just shrugged.

“There isn’t one. I was too harsh, and you did a good job setting up around here. Keep it under 10k, don’t lose my CDs. It doesn’t have bluetooth, so deal with it. You show up to BHHS in a minivan and you’re going to get roasted before you even have a chance.” Troy explained, watching as Owen turned to walk away. “Be back here by six at the latest. You’re working with the beginners, got it?” He asked, and when a thumb was thrown into the air by his son who stepped out of the building, Troy sighed. He looked at Davy and spoke in a stern tone. “You have no idea how lucky you are. They’re so much easier when they’re small.”

“I feel like all she does is sleep and poop?”

“You know how much easier my life would be if the I.E.D. did nothing but sleep and shit?”

“Okay, once again. Point taken.”

Owen slipped out of the gym, stepping underneath the banner he’d spent his morning hanging up above the entryway. With bright red paint and his mother’s tell-tale writing, it practically shouted its message to the streets:


Outside of the gym, Owen was sliding behind the wheel of his dad’s car for the first time. As he sank into the leather seat and put his hands on the wide steering wheel, Owen found himself wondering if he was truly ready for this kind of responsibility. He put the key in the ignition and turned it, with the car immediately roaring to life in response as the stereo blasted the music his dad listened to.

He revved the engine for a moment, and then shifted it into gear. He pulled out of the gym, and was on his way. He couldn’t help himself but smile as he drove down the streets and toward the new high school, his phone guiding him along the way. He was a new man! Free from the baggage of fighting all the time at school, free from the warden’s judgment, and most of all… well, he would have been lying if he said he didn’t like the car he was driving now.

By the time the next song had ended, Owen had found his way to the parking lot of the school and slid his car into a parking slot alongside a red car, in line with… a lot of other fancy looking vehicles. He considered for a second that he should park somewhere else - it seemed like this was a place where the car people gathered, but then ultimately decided he didn’t care and killed the engine.

Owen Lyon was finally here.
In BHHS: Limitless → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay






Welcome to Beverly Hills: Limitless. We are so excited to get this party started.
Feel free to move your characters to the appropriate tab and in the next couple of days talk about relations if you haven't already.
Sunday, 04/07, we set sail on a great adventure of chaos, comedy, and crying!



"As long as I live, there are infinite chances."
[ Monkey D. Luffy, One Piece]

Accepted Roster
| @Fabricant451 |
Everly — Sara — Naomi — DJ — Amy — Himani

| @Aewin |
Diana — Charlotte

| @BrutalBx |
Romi — Isaiah — Addie — Theo

| @Aces Away |
Decky — Sin — Monarch — Ramón — Sully — Rye

| @Grimoire Gaming |
Oli — Cael

| @Festive |
Lucian

| @NeoAJ |
Emilia — Savannah

| @Emma |
Soraya

| @Theyra |
Ross — Eliseo

| @Bee |
Hana — Jade

| @Melissa |
Hope — Stella — Tatum — Jack
In BHHS: Limitless → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
We made it kids


some how palpatine returned
In BHHS: Limitless → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay










In BHHS: Limitless → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
welcome to da show
In Palm Beach Royals: Reunited At Sea → 1 yr ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
In Palm Beach Royals: Reunited At Sea → 1 yr ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
While not as impressive as its namesake, The Thousand Sunny was still a fine ship. With its eighteen cabins, fully stocked bar, large dining room, elevator, Dolby Atmos cinema, full spa, pool with a second bar, jacuzzi, various water toys, and gym… the Sunny sometimes feels almost empty. Of course, with the eccentric owner using it as his own personal day trip ship that was to be expected. A ship like the Sunny was not a ship meant to host one or two people, like it had been since Ty Locke had purchased it. It was a ship meant to host. A ship where memories could be made! Memories more exciting than those of Ty and his friends lounging about on the luxurious couches the ship offered.

That was the main reason Ty had agreed to this when his classmate had asked him about it. Now, Kole Reyes was far from just a ‘classmate.’ Ty might even be so brave as to call her a ‘friend,’ but if nothing else she was definitely a business partner. Someone had to figure out the details for charity events, and Ty didn’t have the mindset for it. Handing Kole one of his cards and just being a host was much more his style… which was part of why they’d ended up in this position. The Sunny was going to play host to a gathering of their peers and a celebration of surviving ten years after high school: a reunion.

At first, Ty had figured it would be a good time. See the homies, smoke some weed, drink some booze, sleep, and then proceed to continue never thinking about any of them for the rest of his life. As it turned out, that was a lie. It was actually really stressful! The first disagreement came over the wait staff. Kole wanted to hire catering while Ty was insistent his crew was good enough. A tentative agreement was eventually reached where the pair would use Ty’s crew but Kole’s menu. After securing his staff’s role, Ty tapped out and let Kole do everything. Drink menus and food menus were solidly her problem.

Where the fuck is she anyway? Ty thought to himself as he approached the bridge where he could find the captain. Shaking his head, Ty pulled his phone out to send a quick text.

To: Kole
dude its like 40 minutes till the game begins and like 15 until i’m high
what i’m saying is you’d better not be in a cabin getting ready youve had 3 weeks to get ready

“Everything ship-shape, captain?” With a lot of the party planning out of his hands, Ty was left to do more important things: checking in with the staff and staying out of the way of Kole’s party planning and letting her drive. He, and his boat, were merely passengers on her wild ride.

“Should be, assuming you and your party don’t sink the sumbitch.” The old, greying captain looked at Ty with tired eyes, not looking forward to playing host to the reunion Ty was pushing onto them. It would be fine for the wait and bar staff, who would make big tips, but the captain couldn’t help but assume they’d be rowdy.

Ty shrugged in response, “man, we old as hell. I’m almost 30. We’re just gonna chill and swim and get high and maybe someone will hook up or whatever. You’re gonna be fine!” Ty’s overwhelming positivity and infectious grin seemed to do the trick as the captain visibly relaxed. If nothing else, he knew that Ty would keep things relatively under control. Or, if not Ty, his close friends. “‘sides, I’m not gonna sleep anyway. No one’s gettin’ up to any ruckus on my watch!” As he spoke, Ty shook the open energy drink he held in his hand. Ty did have a vague plan to stay up for as long as possible, to make sure no one could get into any wildness on his boat. Of course, as he often did, Ty was simultaneously outplaying himself by having a blunt rolled and ready to go sitting in the breast pocket of the polo he wore, but the captain didn’t need to know that.

A half-assed salute, and Ty was on his way to the next stop: the bar. The Sunny’s bar was stocked to the gills with expensive liquor, and staffed by two bartenders Ty had snatched from some of the most popular night clubs in New York City. Money talked, or something like that. This discussion, Ty suspected, would go by even faster than the one with the captain because it was pretty straightforward. “Yo!” Ty greeted the bartenders, who turned to face him. With a wide smile still on his face, Ty kept rolling. “It’s gonna be a busy night. Weekend? I don’t even remember. You let me know if those cheap bastards I went to school with don’t tip, aight? I got you. Also, did you guys get that thing I asked you to grab?” Ty asked, leaning across the bar and looking inquisitively between the two.

“Yeah, man. I got you.” One of them replied, before holding out a hand that contained a small ziplock baggie. Ty took it and grinned as he straightened up.

“Tight! Thanks, bro.” Ty turned to walk away. There wasn’t much else to be said, and as he headed toward the upper deck and the pool where he assumed Ama and Asher were waiting for him, Ty ripped the tiny bag open and poured out the four grams of psilocybin mushrooms and popped them into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, wondering how anyone ate these commonly. Maybe he should have gotten the chocolate bars… these kind of tasted like dirt raw.

Why did he know what dirt tasted like?

Ty quickly shook that thought from his head as he made his way to the pool and waved to the already waiting Amalee and Asher. Above him, the ship’s horn sounded. Thirty minutes until the anchor lifted and the games began.
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