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Melly Bean the Jelly Bean

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Oz's most eligible bachelor, indeed.



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In BHHS: Limitless → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TIMESTAMP: A little before the Football game
Though, after the football team leaves the locker room
Introducing: Athena Helmsley & Jonah Goldstein


@Melissa & @LovelyComplex
____________________________________________________________________

Athena Helmsley was a simp.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an overstatement, especially given the fact that she wasn’t wifed up yet, but she was practically gnawing at the bars of her “friend zone” enclosure. Showing up to the Football game of the guy you were kind of sort of talking to was indeed simp behavior, especially considering this was the first Football game she had shown any interest in attending in the last four years. Calli was suspicious enough as it was. But, Benji didn’t need to know that.

The blonde stood leaned up against the side of the bleachers, out of sightlines but not far too from the action. After all, she was technically there to watch the game, but like always, she had her own agenda to attend to first. With the chaotic crowd focused on what was happening on the field, it was the perfect location for a quick business meeting. No one would be the wiser to what was being discussed and the cheering was an excellent sound buffer.

With a sigh, Athena checked her watch as she waited, a tad impatiently. She wanted to get back to the stands before she missed anything major, but then again, this was debatably more important.

And the person that Athena was waiting irritably for was taking his sweet time, leisurely drinking from his water bottle, in his black and red cheer uniform. Standing on the endzone of the field, with his fellow cheermates stretching and practicing, all ready and prepared to run to the front of the bleachers, Jonah Goldstein stared at his friend through a pensive lens. His fixed, cold expression was hardened from concentration and his dark eyes radiated fierce, uncompromising intelligence.

He didn’t move. He didn’t wave. He simply watched. That was how Jonah presented himself. A rock of a man. Hard to read and understand without a magnifying glass. Stable, steady, and strong. A man tossed by the wind and washed by the water. A man who lived through storms and now, thanks to his family, could use the force of nature to polish himself and be brilliant. A man who chose to take action and break his shell, to live and be, more than his family have ever lived to dream. A boy trying to succeed. That was Jonah Goldstein.

Part of his plan to success had to do with his growing friendship with the small, blonde student continuously glancing at her wrist watch. A gun of a woman. Hard to sway and challenge without presenting a pitch. Enterprise-focused, eloquent, and efficacious. A woman that had all the tools and resources at her fingertips. A woman who was a treasure trove of knowledge, wealth, and connections. A woman who had no limits to what she wanted to accomplish and achieve. A girl trying to live up to her family’s legacy. That was Athena Helmsley.

Together, they were becoming quite the promising duo and the fruit of their labor showed solely based on the fact that a Helmsley was waiting for a boy who may as well be considered nameless in the world of the rich and famous. There was a brief moment Jonah did scan the bleachers to see who was in attendance other than his darling ‘Olympian’. He studied who was arriving, who was engaged in conversations, and who was missing-in-action. To his surprise, he noticed Mordechai, his nephew, who didn’t care for school functions such as the homecoming game. Jonah caught sight of where his nephew’s fixation was set on, the marching band, and watched as Jordyn Jones, the caramel skinned beauty, with long, curly hair, that loved rodents, had an infectious giggle, and ate red hot flamin’ Cheetos savagely, eagerly waved up at him. Jonah smirked.

The cheer team began to make their way to their designated area, in front of bleachers reserved for Beverly Hills High Students. Alongside the cheermates exuding high energy, Cael and Minnie specifically, he cast an intrigued eye once more on Athena. Someone who he was surprised gave him the time of day a couple years back. Someone who understood business better than any other student that attended this elite, ridiculously expensive, and overrated school. Someone that understood that luck only exists when adequate preparation meets opportunity in a statistical universe. Meaning? There was no such thing as luck. All their wins were because of how well they played the game. Luck only existed because they made luck real. People would believe anything when they want it to be true. If they wanted it to be real. If they wanted it for themselves. So for the purpose of their business motto: Luck can be achieved, you just need to believe. That was Athena and Jonah. The Dream Team.

Breaking off from the rest of the cheer squad, ever so casually, Jonah strolled to his partner-in-crime and calmly jested, “Looking for someone that isn’t me?”

The blonde kept her gaze directed on the field, or at least the portion she could still see from her vantage point, tucked off to the side. Even as her friend and business partner approached, finally gracing her with his presence, she did not make eye contact, instead choosing to focus on what lay ahead. In a blur of black and red, she watched as the players scattered around the turf, practically identical if you didn’t know what to look for to distinguish them. But for her, it was easy to spot Benji, and it wasn’t simply because she knew his number. No - it was the way he only used one of his arms to propel him forward as he ran, the other stiff and rigid. He also leaned in a way that his head became level with his shoulders. Small details that other people would miss. But not Athena Helmsley. She noticed everything.

“Always,” She stated, before finally looking over at Jonah, taking in his cheerleader persona.“You look cute, nice uniform.” The girl smirked, reaching out and picking off a piece of lint from his shoulder, “Remind me again how you ended up on the team?”

“Thanks, it makes my ass look good,” Jonah answered offhandedly, his engaged stare never straying from her large, luminous, midwinter blue eyes. They were the lightest of blue, nearly gray. The windows to her soul were frosted, trying to mask and hide what was waiting inside. There was a moment, a quick one, where her gaze passed him and went back to the field, to the football team. In that rapid moment, that came and went as fast as his vibrant haired lover ran around the field with zoomies, Jonah saw her eyes glint. There was a fire burning quietly, a desire beyond achievement, and warmth coming straight from the heart. Softness that was unbecoming of a Helmsley. A touch of kindness, a pinch of respect and a spoon full of compassion, love and adoration. Keeping his thoughts to himself, Jonah turned and let his brown eyes explore the field, alongside her. “I’m good at catching people when they fall,” Jonah chuckled, knowing Athena well enough that that wasn’t a good enough answer.

Cheerleading, at least on the surface, wasn’t a role normally painted on someone like him. But that was the point of why he joined. To imagine something possible, to make it more factual and evident, one shouldn’t stay within the preconceived limitations he created in his mind. He joined cheerleading sophomore year when he realized Mordechai was having a hard time adjusting and while he’s been teased by his extracurricular activity, Jonah owns it, breaking the stereotype and inspiring the crowd. Just how he does as the Ringleader for Game Nights.

The last thing he wants his nephews’ lives to become can be summarized by these three things: could have, might have, and should have. He wanted the Boaz boys to dream and as their uncle it was his job to guide them while they searched for themselves, explored what makes them happy, and redefined their character. He was diligent, astute and versatile. Athletic, conditioned and patient. You’d be surprised at the strength necessary to cheer on an international level and male cheerleaders were in high demand. It was an easy sport to try out for, guaranteed acceptance. Jonah needed something to add variety to his day. The Cheer team did just that. “Cheerleaders love to talk. It’s a good place to find out who is involved with who. More importantly though? I do it for my nephews. I like to think it helps them defy convention.”

Athena nodded, understanding his perspective completely. If she didn’t already have a twin, or two, she would have been under the impression that Jonah and her had been related in some way, possibly even separated at birth. They were cut from the same cloth, never had the blonde met someone who thought so similarly to her. Someone who knew what she was thinking before she even could say it. And not in the normal way, the perceptive way. The strategic way. It was unique, to say the least, to find someone like Jonah. He was wise beyond his years. It was exactly for that reason she had been so willing and well, eager, to help him at first.

Cheekily, she moved back and checked out his behind in the cheer pants. “You’re not wrong. I didn’t realize you even had an ass. God bless spandex, I guess.” Athena laughed, eyes moving back to the field. “So what’s the word on the street? Who’s a hot ticket these days?”

“A few people of interest,” Jonah started, not one to drag things out. There was no reaction to Athena checking out his ass. When the self made man was focused, with a clear objective, he was completely locked in. “I sent a video link to your email. New kid. Just transferred in today. I’m sure soon Theo is going to clock him. Owen Lyon. In summary, he fights well. The video is him fighting a whole football team, not his but the opposing team, because they decided to harass his kicker. It led to them insulting his mother and yeah, that didn’t end well for the other team. I gather the reason they moved was because his father had to take over the 361 Combat Club. Rebranded to The Lyon’s Den. It closed abruptly a few years back. Since Theo is our biggest competitor, I thought I’d start with him.”

When he finished the first part of his ever growing list of prospects, he scanned the bleachers and directed Athena’s attention to two people that were conveniently sitting in the same row. Romi Rae was to the far left and Isaiah was in the midsection. “Then there is Romi and Isaiah. Understated and overshadowed. Jewels that go unnoticed. Just like me. I’ve observed them for a while now and I think they could offer something to our program. Romi is exceedingly fit, there’s no doubt about that, and we could use another bouncer. However, what I’m more interested in is the fact that her parents are deep in the AWE scene, and Joey has only good things to say about her. That means she must have stage presence and our whole thing is an immersive experience. An act of sorts. The House is a world of make-believe and fun, and I could benefit from someone that has acting skills; who isn’t in the theater department. Just something to think about.”

Jonah took a moment to drink his water when a couple of teens got too close to them, smelling of booze and weed. He waited for them to move away and stumble onto the bleachers. His dark eyes went to his fellow cheerleaders, his eyes resting on his lover, Cael. “Not many people know this but Isaiah raps and MCs at The Dolla Lounge. On top of him being smart, I am led to believe he has a keen eye and could catch things before they happen. It’s a plus he has a voice worth listening to. And I do think he’d be easier to convince to join us, over someone like Leila. She is too pure for us. And Yani is not an option because people would know who they are, immediately.” There was one last person he wanted to mention, someone that he thought would intrigue Athena the most but he chose to wait to hear her thoughts first, before giving her more to consider.

Athena pulled out her phone as Jonah spoke, tapping into her Mail app and clicking play on the video he had sent. It was evident it was filmed by a student sitting in the bleachers during the game, shaky, as if they were in shock, and the crowd’s reactions were loud and audible as the camera focused in on the tall player standing at the 30 yard line. It was David vs. Goliath, a single boy versus an entire team, but that didn’t seem to matter as he plowed through, taking them down one by one. It was unlike anything the blonde had ever seen before. Her eyes darted back up to the field, noting Benji’s unharmed form, before settling back on Jonah as she slipped her phone back in her pocket.

“Kid’s got talent. He’s Piper’s cousin, well, they’re somewhat related. Jamie showed him around school today, god only knows what he said to him.” Athena grimaced, “Theo’s going to be hot on his coattails.”

She continued to listen as Jonah riddled off details about their peers Romi and Isaiah, nodding along. The girl inherently trusted the boy’s judgment, which made this exercise more informational than anything else. She didn’t need to give him approval, they were far past that. She simply enjoyed hearing and seeing how the wheels turn in his head, learning what made their classmates tick. “Both seem like solid additions, Jo. So long as they understand the secrecy that goes into an operation like this. I’m sure you’re already plotting how to approach them, don’t let me get in the way of that.”

He did have a plan. He always had a plan. Jonah was the type of guy already thinking months ahead, which is shown from his work ethic as a student. His homework was done for the rest of the semester, having schmoozed his way on getting the syllabus for each of his classes in advance. He didn’t have time to waste when he had people to meet, places to be, and connections to make. “You know me well. But before I pursue those options, I have a date with Toury. A more interesting avenue that we conveniently have an in with, comes in the form of her step brother, Dash. Turns out that little Dash is genius level good at billiards. His father, the rapper not Mr. Phoenix went live this past weekend and in the background I could see Dash playing. When his father gave a tour of his place, I took a closer look and that kid was destroying his father’s friends, without breaking a sweat. One thing led to another and I found out Dash used to be part of the APA junior league, that is until his parents divorced. His rep though makes it hard for anyone to believe he’s good at anything, seeing how he’s hyper fixated on becoming a pro fighter and… is doing his best.”

Athena raised an eyebrow, always impressed with Jonah’s instincts. Most of the time they rivaled her own. “Interesting,” She bit her inner lip, thinking through things more thoroughly, and leaned up against the bleachers. “We’ll have to convince Toury, I’m assuming, and get her on board with the idea. I highly doubt she’d let him get involved so easily without some type of sway. We can give her a cash advance, call it a generous referral bonus.” The blonde ran her fingers through her hair, “Make sure she knows that he’ll be taken care of if things go haywire. I don’t foresee that happening, but speaking from experience, I wouldn’t let my siblings get involved unless I knew they’d be protected if things went south.”

“I’ll talk to Monarch, see if she has any information on Dash that might interest his sister,” Jonah voiced, knowing well enough money would not be the only thing Tourmaline would want. Money only guaranteed protection if it was meant for hiring men to be muscle. This money was meant to dangle and entice, which meant Jonah needed to go to Toury with more to offer. The cogs in his brain continued to turn, shifting his to-do list and formulating a concrete plan on how to bring in a new tournament where Dash was at the center of it all. He knew Athena would write him a check before the day was through. It was safer to do it the old fashioned way with a minimal electronic trail. They decided that when they formed the House contract. Business partners through and through. Till the end, whenever that may be. With his debrief completed, he gave a sly grin and leaned in toward Athena, as she looked toward the field. He whispered, “You going to ask him out?”

The blonde's steely edge dissolved almost instantaneously, a flush gracing her fair cheeks. Nothing got past Jonah, alright. Even though it was the thing she admired about him most, his attention to detail, she’d be lying if she didn’t say it was annoying as fuck. Especially when she was trying to simp in secret.

“That, my friend, is none of your business.”
In BHHS: Limitless → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TIMESTAMP: 5:30AM -7:30 AM
Location: The Cage Rink & Performance Center → Ms. Belmonte’s Classroom
Starring: Jack “Mac” McDonough




There was nothing better than the sound of freshly sharpened skates cutting across clean ice. Well, at least for Jack McDonough.

The sun had yet to crest the horizon as the blonde haired boy laced up his Bauers for his usual early morning practice. At the ungodly hour, the rink was empty aside from the first shift janitors and himself, but that was just the way he liked it. Being there on his own gave him free reign, the entirety of the ice at his disposal. Sure, he had to grease a few elbows to make it happen, call in a few favors, but it was well worth it.

Each morning ran like clockwork. He spent the first 10 minutes warming up. It was a step that most players often overlooked, but Jack knew better; he wasn’t about to risk a season ending injury from lack of stretching. He often used the quiet time and the stillness to think introspectively and set intentions. It was the only kind of mindfulness he did; hell would surely freeze over before the kid tried meditation.

The next 30 minutes were spent running drills. Today he had wanted to focus on edgework, stick handling, and accuracy, so he divided up the block into thirds. Admittedly though, he took some extra time for accuracy drills because he wanted to practice his Michigan goal. Every good player had something unique up their sleeve, and if he could score one during regulation, it’d be legendary. If Bedard could do it, so could he.

Some players bitched and moaned about running drills. They argued that nothing could ever prepare you for how a real game would go down; the split-second choices you’re forced to make and the unforeseen circumstances. But for Jack, practice made perfect. Sure, he had keen instincts on the ice and was fast as hell, but none of the greats made it as far as they did on only their speed and intuition. No, he was trying to go places. Be someone. Jack wanted to don the ‘C’ proudly on his chest, be the athlete on the Wheaties box, the guy with a statue outside of the Arena, and the player who’s number hung on a banner in the rafters when he eventually retired.

Mac wanted it all, and he was sure as shit going to do everything he could to make it happen.

The last 20 minutes were spent getting his heartrate up, line sprints. From the boards to the first blue line and back, to the center line and back, to the second blue line and back, and finally the length of the rink. Mac was a bullet on blades, with strong legs and quick feet, and it showed. He made it look easy, gliding from one end of the ice to the other. It was like breathing for him, second nature. His parents had put him on skates soon after he could walk, enrolled him in lessons as early as the league would let them, and it had paid off. He was a natural, a prodigy.

Satisfied with his work for the day, Jack called it quits and headed for the locker room. As he stood under the spray of the shower, washing the now sticky sheen of sweat from his body, his mind drifted to the year ahead. He was a senior now, the weight of expectations heavier than ever before. College scouts would be watching his every move, dissecting his performance with a critical eye, and Draft day quickly approached. But the blonde refused to let the pressure consume him; instead, he saw it as an opportunity to prove himself worthy. And besides, a year of debauchery and fun with his buddies awaited before the real world set in. And you could bet your ass that Mac was going to make the most of it.

It didn’t take him long to get dressed, packing up the discarded smelly, well-worn gear into his duffel that would be sure to make his mother gag later, and depart the rink. He haphazardly threw the bag into the back of his Jeep and set off for school, definitely pushing the speed limit to make it on time. Last thing he needed was another tardy on his record. He coasted into the parking lot at 7:26am and sailed into Ms. Belmonte’s room at 7:30am just as the bell sounded.

Jack gave her a devious smirk, “Right on time, of course. You know I’d never keep you waiting Ms. B.” The woman simply sighed, not bothering to deign him with a reply as her homeroom and students were always this exhausting. The blonde shrugged.

He’d woo her… one day.

Scanning the class, he spotted Benji in the back with a free desk adjacent that the boy assumed was meant for him. He wasted no time making his way over, collapsing into the chair with an audible exhale before turning to his friend. “Big weekend ahead, Benj. You ready?”
In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Location: Wells Residence(s) → The Road → School.
Timestamp: Honestly, they're definitely late.
Small FT: Savannah Wells @Melissa
& Mason Wells @Aces Away

____________________________________________________________________







Hope & Helen Wells
@Melissa & @LovelyComplex
____________________________________________________________________

Hope was up with the sun, like she was most mornings, not even needing the sound of her alarm to get out of bed. Her older brother often joked she was likely a Disney Princess in another life because no normal person woke up that happy, and he had a point. The redhead rose each day eager and excited to tackle whatever challenges came her way, head on. This morning especially, she was looking forward to the day ahead. Spirit Week was by far one of her favorite BHHS traditions, which made sense because Halloween was her favorite holiday, and each day was like a mini version of it.

She sat on her bed scrolling through her phone (since she had been ready for a while already) and over the sound of her music she heard a familiar car horn sound, signaling that it was time to get a move on. Hope loved nothing more than carpooling with her cousins to school, as it was quality time they got to spend together each day, no matter how busy she was with extracurriculars. Not to mention, it was also extremely convenient as they lived right across the street from each other.

“Hope!” Her mother yelled up from downstairs, as if she didn’t think her daughter heard the obnoxious honking outside.

“Yeah, I’m going!” The redhead called down before grabbing her things, turning off the lights, and shutting her bedroom door behind her. She tore down the stairs in a hurry, not wanting to keep her cousin waiting for too long, but quickly popped into the kitchen to grab a granola bar. The girl moved quickly, darting in and out of the pantry and making a break for the front door.

“Not so fast,” A voice tutted, stopping Hope in her tracks. Savannah Wells leaned casually up against the island, savoring her morning cup of coffee poured from the pot her husband had brewed for her before he left for work. Hope was often told she was the spitting image of her mother; the woman was now in her late 40’s but still somehow managed to look ageless and youthful. “Can you please double check with Michael today what time he’s coming to pick you up tomorrow for the dance? I texted Joy to ask but she doesn’t know either and I want to make sure we have enough time for pictures.”

“Okay, I will.” Hope nodded and turned to leave, but hesitated. Without missing another beat, she ran over to her mother and gave her a kiss on the cheek goodbye. “Love you! See you tonight.”

In a flash of red curls, she was out the door, running towards Helen’s car and sliding inside nimbly. “~Good morning!” She chimed in a sing-song voice, all too cheerfully.

The same routine as usual. Helen Wells, the goth bitch of her class, who was the daughter of Riley Wells, a beloved teacher of her school, and cousin to Little Miss Sunshine, spent a couple hours finding the perfect look to stand out from the crowd. Within those same hours, she had a long beauty routine, making sure her skin smelt like cherry, crushed pistachio and whipped vanilla. Most importantly though? Her make up was on fleek.

Today, however, was the day everyone would dress like her because their school had edgy colors and she was the literal queen of edge. Since it was October, she decided to take her aesthetic to the next level spirit week, using it as her opportunity to cosplay as goth characters people knew in mainstream media. PJ day, she was Shego, because let's be real, PJs are best when watching cartoons. Tuesday she was dressed as Sam Manson from Danny Phantom, transferring her main outfit to look sporty. Who doesn’t like a goth bitch in their jersey? Wednesday she was Wednesday Addams dressed as an Indian from Addams Family Values because before there were cowboys, there were Indians. Thursday she was Raven from Teen Titans, but she made the look: hippie goth. Once again, who doesn’t like a goth in loose clothing, especially one who is the daughter of a supremely powerful and dangerous inter-dimensional demon? Obviously, Helen knew exactly what she was doing and knew how to make the boys, and girls, and everything in between go wild. Finally, today, she chose to be Katherine, from Vampire Diaries. A seductive, evil, and venomous vampire. Red eyes, a dress that would make Mo moan in excitement, sharp nails to kill, and fangs that were meant for biting. Now add her hearse that her grandpa Jareth gave her? She was a dark goddess, a walking nightmare, and a bitch in hot red stilettos. A dame to kill for and a dame to die by. The Queen of Hell.

Usually she took so long to get ready that her brother would head out first, and she’d have very little time to eat anything. She’d rush downstairs, grab her things, and say ‘Love you dad, bye dad’ before rushing to her car and pulling out of the driveway, just to drive into another one, straight ahead, that belonged to her Uncle Trevor and Aunty Sav. It was freshman year when she stopped wanting affection from her fathers and while she knew it broke their hearts, she just had enough going on and didn’t want to seem needy for her dads. Plus, she didn’t always smell like her perfume and the last thing she needed was them to ask questions.

Like clockwork, she found herself dressed to impress, in her hearse, waiting for the brightest person in her life and oddly enough, best friend (by blood) to come prancing out the door. Amy Kwon was also her best friend but that was more like soul sisters that were each other's ride or die. Someone she met and was like yeah, you’re my bitch. Hope was her cousin she grew up with and couldn’t help but want to look out for her. Before there was Amy, there was Hope. And Troy, of course, but ew, her brother could fuck off and do his own thing. “You’re chipper, as always,” Helen responded to her cousin who nestled herself into her seat, as the passenger princess. Glancing in her side mirror, she could see her father, the sex therapist one, coming out of the door. She grumbled, “Here we go again.” Bringing her window down, she called out, “Dad, it’s fine! We can just get a burger or something.”

“You name me one burger place between here and school that’s as nutritious as my homemade meals,” Mason responded, pout out in full force as he leaned down to her window and thrust the bags past her towards Hope. “They’re made with love, Hellie! That’s the most important ingredient! Hi there Hope baby I put some snacks in there for you too,” He added, grinning at his niece. His husband’s family was his too after all, and he had to take care of family.

Hope gave Helen a once over, her jaw popping open at her cousin’s choice of outfit for the last day of spirit week. “You look HOT! I wish I could pull off a vampire look like you can. Maybe I’ll have to borrow that for Halloween…” She trailed off and began to look around the car, clearly searching for something. “Speaking of borrow-” The redhead started, but was interrupted by Helen calling out to her dad who was racing down the driveway trying to catch them before they left. Hope gladly accepted the bags of food as they were handed to her, offering her Uncle a bright smile in return.

“Thanks Uncle Mason! You’re the best.”

“I do my best to be my best!” He replied with a dopey grin at the girl. His smartwatch started blaring on his wrist and the father of two shot up in response, only to hit the back of his head on the inside of his daughter’s car from when he’d leaned in. “OWWwww Dammit!” He whined, rubbing the wounded spot harshly. His watch continued to ring, alerting him of his first patients having entered the virtual waiting room for their session, and he looked frantically between the two Wells girls and the window to his home office. “Okay! Love you two, I’ve gotta go but there’s three bags there! Troy left so early this morning and he didn’t take it either,” the blonde man huffed in disappointment, looking like a kicked puppy. Before she could react, Mason finished his interaction by laying a quick kiss to the side of his daughter’s head, careful of the exceptionally done makeup on her face, and ran back toward the house while yelling over his shoulder, “Bye Hellcat, kick ass today at school baby I love you!!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he gets it. Bye, love you!” Hope called out to her Uncle as he retreated to his office, turning to her cousin and laughing at the affection ambush. “Anyway, as I was about to say, did you bring them?”

“Yeah, backseat,” Helen replied, watching her father through the rearview mirror. She was glad Hope did all the talking. Less effort for her if her cousin did the back and forth with her dad. Thankfully they were saved by one of his client appointments. It was too early to entertain him, especially when he always seemed to want affection and validation nowadays. She loved her dad but she certainly had enough going on. He didn’t need to worry about her, she could take care of herself.

Even if she got up early to do her makeup, making sure it was on fleek, Helen Wells was not a morning person. She thrived at night and became her most creative when the city of fallen angels was asleep. Her cousin was the opposite and had so much bounce in her step. Whimsical, carefree, and walking on sunshine: those were a few descriptors that Helen would use for her dear Hope. Their family either flourished under the sun or under the moon and it seemed that the two girls in a black hearse were a different side of the same coin. Once she directed Hope to the backseat, Helen revved up her engine and backed out of the driveway.

While turning the car, she brusquely probed, “Got any plans this weekend? Like going to the dance with Mikey or something? Seems like something you’d do. Go to the dance with your best friend.” This wouldn’t be the first time Helen tried to get Hope to cave and spill the tea. She wanted to see if there was more to her relationship with the tall, handsome, blonde boy next door than she was giving. There was no way they didn’t have something. In Helen’s head, she had already made up her mind: they were totally fucking.

Hope sighed in relief, “You’re the best, Hellie.” The redhead nimbly maneuvered over the center console into the back of the hearse, spotting a canvas tote propped up on one of the seats. Opening the bag and looking inside, she grinned, “Can you believe I don’t own anything black?” She asked, rhetorically, as they both already knew the answer. Even though Hope theoretically could have worn red and still remained spirited for Homecoming, she rarely did so since she felt it clashed with her vibrant locks. So, she often raided her built-in bestie’s closet, which had an abundance of options in the black variety. Hope pulled the clothes that her cousin was letting her borrow for the day out of the bag, inspecting what she had selected for her this time- a simple pair of black jeans and a cropped polo tank that would show off her midriff.

One of the perks of Helen driving a hearse? Tinted back windows, which meant Hope could change without fear of anyone seeing her. The redhead began to strip as the vehicle started to move, grasping the hem of the tee shirt she was wearing and pulling it over her head. “Spiff and I aren’t going together, silly. He’s just driving me there.”

The Wells’ and O’Connor’s weren’t just friends, they were family. Hope’s father and Michael’s father grew up together and had been best friends for their entire lives. Once they settled down and started their own families, it was only fitting that their children be just as close. Raised in the same neighborhood, the four children were practically inseparable, Hope and Michael especially. They were the same age, born only a few weeks apart, and did just about everything together. High school may have changed a few things - they ran in very different circles and had vastly different schedules- but their friendship never wavered.

“No one asked me to go, and I guess Michael couldn’t pick who he wanted to take between his many, many flings.”

“Why don’t you ask—” Him. “ —someone? or are you waiting for your Disney prince to sweep you off your feet?” Helen teased, rolling her window down a crack. As she drove, she brought her sunvisor down to check her makeup. With her left hand, she held onto the steering wheel and with the other she used it to grab her phone. Her phone was already connected to her radio by bluetooth and unfortunately (or fortunately) for Hope, Helen Wells absolutely needed music while she drove. She kept the volume low enough so they could talk. The Sacrament by Him resounded through her speakers. Another distinction that separated her from her cousin, their music taste.

Subsequently, the raven haired girl opened her center console and took out her cool tone lipstick to touch up her lips. Helen glanced at the road briefly, making sure she was not swerving or coming up behind anyone. She smoothly applied her lipstick, nonchalantly. She drove with little care in the world, focusing on the main thing that mattered to her: herself. Afterwards, she grabbed the cover and closed her lipstick tube, dexterous and nimble, just how she was in bed. “Like baby, we’re seniors and you’re still a virgin.”

From lipstick to cigarettes, Helen kept herself busy, one way or another. She wasn’t one to sit still as she drove. Although her mask hid it well, her mind was running a mile a minute. Keeping her console open, she grabbed a cigarette out of her pack of Camel Turkish-Domestic Blend and placed it in her mouth. She wasn’t going to roll her window completely down until Hope was done changing but this was her car and she was going to smoke. Her car, her rules. Hope knew the deal.

At this point in their drive the gothic goddess had already taken a couple of turns and now she was slowing down to a red stoplight. In quick motions she grabbed her black luxury electric lighter (it had a dragon on it). When she lit her cancer stick, her shoulders relaxed. Placing her lighter down and closing the center console, she leaned in her seat. Breathing the smoke in, letting it sit in her throat, having craved the taste, she enjoyed a moment of peace. This was the calm before the storm. School was a nightmare and she knew she’d hate today just how she hated everyday.

Exhaling in relief, Helen directed her smoke out of the window. What was it like to be a virgin? She wouldn’t remember. She wasn’t a nympho; she just knew what most people wanted wasn’t her. It was her body. Sex was good, especially if you were a good teacher and weren’t afraid to tell your lover what you wanted. Sex could be great if there was a proper line of communication. Usually there wasn’t and most of her peers couldn’t help but let her down. She was a good teacher and sex was one of her greatest skills. Some people didn’t like to listen and it was their loss in the end because she wasn’t the one disappointing people in bed. They were. “I guess it’s a positive thing you’re such a good, little girl. I’m sure it makes your dad proud he hasn’t lost his princess to some fucker.”

Hope continued to change in the back of the hearse, peeling off her leggings and tugging on the pair of jeans. It took some additional effort to get them over her thighs and hips, they were so tight that they left nothing to the imagination; neither did the cutouts where the pockets should have been. Skinny jeans were not the norm for the redhead; most of the clothing she thrifted tended to be baggier and looser, more free. In fact, most of the time she opted to wear skirts or dresses, foregoing pants altogether.

She shook her head at her cousin’s teasing, carefully manipulating the provided tank top over her defined curls without separating or ruffling them. “I really don’t need to go with anyone, I promise! I’m fine on my own. Trust me, I’m not waiting around for Charming to show up when he feels so inclined.” The shirt was almost as tight as the pants, hugging her chest, the v-neck revealing some (thankfully) tasteful cleavage. “Sure, Hel, say it a bit louder. Hope’s a virgin, whoop-dee-doo! Not all of us can be as tantalizing as you, you know.”

The hearse started moving again.

Of course, deep down, Hope wanted a romance just like her parents. They were high school sweethearts, one might even say soulmates, if you believed in that sort of thing. Picture perfect- the kind of couple that’s featured in the frame when you buy it at the store. They met her mother’s junior year, her dad’s senior year, and instantly clicked. He even gave her a promise ring when he went off to college; they were a timeless, old-school love story. The redhead would be lying if she didn’t say she yearned for the same thing. But she was far too busy to date, and even if she did in fact meet someone, she’d run into the issue of bringing them home to face her father… her police officer father. Definitely a mood killer.

Fully dressed, Hope climbed back into the passenger's seat, rolling down the windows to let out the remainder of Helen’s cigarette smoke that had been circulating the cabin. “Like he would ever let that happen,” She laughed, “I love my dad, but I truly fear the day I have to introduce my future boyfriend to him. I don’t think he’ll take it well.”

Helen flicked her cigarette out the window. Her cousin’s words went in one ear and out the other. It was the same-o, same-o. Nothing seemed to change and they were already in their senior year. Car rides with the sweet cinnamon roll was part of the routine, which also included Helen only partly listening, picking and choosing what she wanted to hear. Hope feared to take risks and get out of her comfort zone and that was likely due to the mere fact that Uncle Trev was a cop. If they switched parents, Helen would see that as a challenge.

Sure, Hel, say it a bit louder.

Helen sadistically smirked.

Hope should know better. Be careful what you say around the Hellcat; your words might come back to bite you in the ass. With both windows down and the school fastly approaching, Helen pushed the pedal to the metal, going over the speed limit, no longer caring about the law. With her powerful, well-trained and robust voice, Helen tactlessly hollered, “MY COUSIN IS A VIRGIN. SOMEBODY COME GET HER!”

The redhead’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head, her cheeks rapidly turning the color of her tresses. Slowly, oh so slowly, she craned her head at her cousin in pure disbelief, her jaw slack and mouth popped open. “You did not just do that, you did not just-”

Realization hit, and Hope exploded in a fit of panic. “HELEN!” The girl rushed to roll up the windows, praying they’d close faster, before burying her face in her hands and attempting to disappear altogether. She hoped the hearse would swallow her whole and carry her casket far, far away from prying eyes and ears. “I can’t believe you right now!” She shrieked, “Some of us are not as comfortable with their sexuality as you are, Hel. Not all of us have sex therapist fathers who have been handing out condoms on Halloween since the early aughts!”

“How many redlights do you think we can ride past without us getting hit or a cop pulling us over?” Helen’s eyes sparked with excitement as she immediately undid Hope’s hard work of bringing the windows up, locking them afterwards when they were halfway down. She was enjoying herself too much. They were now going down a long, busy street with multiple stoplights. Their school was near the end of this, after another right turn and one more left. They could cut ten minutes down to five, if they didn’t stop and obey the law. “If you don’t want to die, I want you to scream something. First thing that comes to mind. I will stop when you let go. Oh, look, first stoplight.” She raced through it, a blue sedan stepping on its brakes and profusely honking. “Come on, Hope, stop being a pussy and SCREAM.”

“Helen Wells! You’re kidding me right now!” Hope squealed as the car continued to coast, bringing her hand up instinctively to hold the handle above her seat. She kept her eyes pierced on the dark haired girl as they rolled down the street with no signs of stopping. The redhead loved her cousin, truly, but in moments like this she questioned her sanity and overall well being. Not desiring to have an untimely end or ending up an unsightly pile of debris, the redhead chose to scream at the top of her lungs, deciding in that moment to not be concerned in the slightest with those around them,

“FUCK, HELEN! I JUST WANT TO BE PUT FIRST!” Hope screamed, the first thing that came to her mind.

And she meant it. For so long, the girl has always put others before herself, and deep down she wanted someone to put her needs before their own. It definitely wasn’t what Helen was expecting to hear, but something about the situation, the anxiety it caused, forced her to speak.

The music turned down and the Undertaker, that’s what she called her baby, slowed a bit, going a normal, legal speed. Unlocking her windows, she brought them up and didn’t say anything in response. Not right away. She wanted Hope to think about what she had just said for a moment. She wanted her cousin to sit in her thoughts and let the weight of her words fill the atmosphere of her car. She loved her cousin, dearly, but sometimes it was like pulling teeth to get to the root of her emotions. Sure, Helen sometimes went about things… uniquely and perhaps a little batshit crazy but at least it got her best friend to talk. Helen knew how she was feeling before hearing it come out of Hope’s mouth — she grew up with the girl, she wasn’t that hard to read — but she wanted Hope to hear herself say those words.

She wanted Hope to be selfish.

I want to be put first.

If she was being transparent, full disclosure, Helen wanted to take pages out of Hope’s book and do some good for others. Learn how to touch hearts and make them remember her name not because of her body, but because she was a decent human being that cared about things. Helen knew she was selfish and it had nothing to do with how her fathers raised her. It had everything to do with her anger. Freshman year taught her many valuable lessons and was a wake up call. Freshman year was the chapter that changed her forever. Freshman year sucked.

She wasn’t one to deep dive into her past. No one knew what she went through that year, it was irrelevant at this point, and she was determined to keep it that way. But she knew that year changed her, for better or for worse, past the point of no return. Helen promised herself that year no matter what, she would always put herself first. Before her friends, before her family, before anyone, Helen Wells was going to take care of HER. If that made her a selfish, fucking bitch, so be it, who cares what they had to say? This was her life. The person that she was always laying in bed with at night was herself. Rye a lot of times too but that’s beside the point. He didn’t like being alone and she got that. He was her twink, so by nature, he was an extension of her and would always be welcomed into her bed like a teddy bear was for a child. (Weird comparison, but you get what I mean.) Hope was the exact opposite and both her and the gorgeous redhead beside her leaned heavily one way or the other that it was: unhealthy. Hope needed to live and Helen needed to be still. Would they ever be able to achieve such challenging feats?

Only time could tell.

“So,” Helen spoke, breaking the silence and stopping at the last redlight, right before the turn that led to their school. “You’re waiting for someone to put you first.”

Hope peeled her clammy hand from the grab handle and attempted to slow her heartbeat and steady her breathing. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, audibly, as the car paused at the signal, a welcome reprieve from the chaos that had just ensued. She broke eye contact with her cousin, letting her gaze wander out her window, and wiped her sweaty palm on her jeans. It was out of character for the girl to admit such things, completely contradictory in fact, of her long term goals and aspirations.

She’d never dared to utter those words out loud, but she’d felt it for a while. The redhead had aspired to be selfless for as long as she could remember. Her work as a CNA and her dreams of joining the Peace Corps were all about serving others, and she loved knowing the profound impact she could make. But between the honors classes, the tutoring sessions and the volunteering, Hope wanted to be taken care of. Of course, her doting mother and father always had her back and supported her, but she wanted someone, not blood, to care just an ounce as much about her as she did about everyone else. It was something she struggled with, something she felt guilty about, and Helen’s unconventional methods had pulled those rogue thoughts straight to the surface.

The girl crossed her arms and continued to divert her gaze away from her cousin as they waited at the stoplight. She bit the inside of her cheek as she stared out the window, contemplating what had just occurred. Hope sighed, exasperated. “Yes, I do.” She finally looked at Helen, letting a glimpse of displeasure flicker in her normally positive eye. “Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Helen sarcastically retorted, knowing she hit a nerve. She didn’t pity her cousin nor did she care that she put the passenger princess in a vulnerable place. In reality, the songstress wanted to set things in motion for the innocent bambino that was Hope Wells. Life wasn’t going to conveniently give her a prince charming to swoop her off her feet to take care of her and even if it did, their rare breeds. Rare breeds were still only human. Even prince charmings were deeply flawed. No one person could check every box that her cousin had on her ‘dream boyfriend’ prerequisite list. That’s why communication was key and would be essential for any successful relationship her cousin would pursue and any future endeavor her cousin would tackle. Helen anticipated this year would be different for Hope but the only person who could make it different was Hope. If she really wanted it to, her dreams could be more than just dreams. All she had to do was be a little selfish and chase this feeling, this deep desire to be loved and be loved in return. Finally, Helen entered the school gates and decided to drive Hope to the front (she’d park afterwards).

After shifting her car into park, Helen offered one last piece of advice, “Hey Hope, I love you, I do, but bitch.” Okay maybe she wasn’t the best communicator, but she meant well and aimed to get her point across one way or another. “How do you expect someone to take care of you if you are just wasting your time waiting? And don’t use your studies and all that extra shit as an excuse. You drown yourself in work and other people’s problems and what does little Hope get in the end?” Nothing, obviously. “Late at night you wonder: why am I like this? Well, Tiger, that’s all you baby girl. You better start changing up how you do things because you only got one more year here. One more year to be a kid and fuck up without carrying the weight of being an adult. Don’t waste your last year being such a good girl. Like sheesh. Live a little. Take a page out of my book. See where it takes you.” Helen grabbed her phone to check her text messages, waiting for the emotional Wells to exit so she could park and smoke another cigarette. What? She had a problem. She’ll quit eventually. For sure, for sure. That day wasn’t today.

The more her cousin talked, the more upset Hope got. She may have had a solid point or two, but it was evident that Helen’s priorities and motivations were very different than hers, and that was what the dark haired girl was missing. Sure, she knew that packing her schedule to the brim probably wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, but other than that she wouldn’t change a damn thing. Hope was sure of herself, she was confident, and it was unfair for Helen to assume that “living a little” would miraculously solve all of her problems. The redhead's deepest desire and dilemma, wanting a fraction of the compassion that she put out into the universe, was not going to come to fruition by making juvenile mistakes. Helen didn’t get that though, because she was too consumed in her own world to see it.

In the redhead’s eyes, she could have her cake and eat it too. She was a good student, a good friend, a good daughter, and an objectively good person. It was enough for her. And hopefully, one day, it’d be enough for someone else.

Hope bit her tongue, aiming to take the high road like she always did, but hurt still showed in her eyes. Arguing with her cousin right now was not going to solve anything, especially as they were parked right outside the school where prying eyes lurked, but that didn’t mean that she was going to let things slide easily.

“Don’t bother waiting for me at the end of the day, I’ll catch a ride with someone else.” Gathering the change of clothes from the backseat, her bag, and the snacks from her Uncle (plus Troy’s lunch because Hope knew her cousin wouldn’t bother bringing it to him herself), she departed from the hearse, slamming the car door behind her. The redhead marched towards the school, cheeks flushed and eyes damp.

In that moment Hope wasn’t sunshine, she was a storm cloud.

As Hope marched, Helen was never one to give her cousin the last word. She was the Hellcat for a reason, and she loved bringing hell on Earth. “I wasn’t planning to! But love how reliable you think I am. Bye baby girl, I’m sure the next time we talk there will be nothing exciting to talk about!”

Helen honked her horn to bid the redhead adieu before driving off to park.

She wasn’t afraid of storms, especially ones named after Hope.

Hurricane Hope. GOD she couldn’t wait.
In Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TW: Domestic Violence

They were arguing again.

Aurora had been startled awake by their screaming. She didn’t know what time it was, but by the way the moon’s bright glow cast shadows on her wall, it was definitely the middle of the night. But, it shouldn’t have jarred her, as it was like clockwork at this point. God only knew what he was angry about this time. Sometimes, it seemed he just picked battles for the thrill of it.

The redhead could hear Damon’s footsteps as he paced, heavy and sluggish in his work boots. The girl may have been young, only 9 years old, but she’d figured out how to pick up on the subtle cues. If he was still wearing his work boots at this hour, it meant that he was only just getting home, and he and his buddies had gone out drinking after his shift.

“God, Sasha, don’t you realize how much I do for you? You’re so fucking ungrateful!” The timbre of his deep voice seemed to shake the walls, a crash of breaking glass and the fizz of the remaining beer that had been in the bottle made Aurora jump. She fumbled with the drawer of her nightstand, wincing at each loud sound that followed, and fished around in the dark until she found what her small hands sought.

The simple MP3 player had been a gift for her 7th birthday. It didn’t have all of the fancy bells and whistles - the screen was small and it only had the standard functions - but it got the job done. She slipped each earbud into the correct ear with shaky hands, selecting the first song she could. It didn’t matter what she was listening to, she turned the volume up anyway.

It was the only way to drown out the noise.
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Location: Myotis Dorm ➜ Southern Plateau - Pacific Royal Campus
Welcome Home #1.073: The Scenic Route
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Interaction(s): Lorcán @Lord Wraith and Haven @Skai
Previously: Life Preserver

Aurora fiddled with the cable of her headphones as she leaned against the exterior of the Myotis dorm, listening to music and patiently waiting for Lorcán. It hadn’t taken her very long to pull her belongings together; she’d only packed a small canvas tote with her essentials since unlike her fellow classmates, if she forgot something or needed anything additional, she’d be able to retrieve it with ease. Still, she brought everything she thought she needed for their trip to the Plateau.

The redhead checked the time on her phone - 15 minutes had come and gone, and the boy was still nowhere to be found. It wasn’t completely unheard of for Lorcán to run behind, but he’d normally at least text her to let her know he’d be late. So his tardiness, combined with the lack of notification, felt off. Maybe something happened? He had been especially clumsy lately…

The thought was nipped in the bud as she looked up and saw him in the distance, and to her surprise, he was accompanied by his father. The two must have been talking, more likely than not about the school’s accreditations and the trainwreck of a ceremony. Aurora hoped that the conversation had brought Lorcán some more solace - she had thought she’d done a decent job of consoling him, but she very well knew she could only do so much. As they neared, his dad waved. “My fault he’s late, won’t happen again.” He called out to her. Aurora smiled, waving back, popping out an earbud to show that she had been listening before replying. She didn’t want him to think she was being rude, after all.

“No problem, Mr. Roth- I mean, Aiden!” Try as she might, the formalities were a force of habit, even though Lorcán’s parents had told her many, many times to refer to them by first name. She’d tried to unlearn it over the years, but some things didn’t change that easily. Lorcán’s father turned and departed, and as Lorcán approached her, Aurora took off her headphones fully, putting them away in her tote.

“Hey lady dude, sorry that took so long, we should probably hustle.” He smiled, “But I think we should still take the scenic route, I can carry that bag for you if you want?”

Aurora smirked, removing her tote from her shoulder and passing it into his waiting, outstretched hand. “Sure, thank you.” She inclined her head in the direction where his dad had walked. “Everything okay?”

"I definitely know you're about to think I've wiped out too many times but-" Lorcán started before explaining about his visit with Jonas, bringing Aurora up to speed on what had transpired in the short time that they were apart as they began their trek to the Plateau. The girl was shocked, to say the least, to hear this information. Sure, she could travel from place to place, but to travel across a timeline? It was fascinating, but also terrifying to know that this ability could possibly be replicated and the dangers associated with it. Part of her also recognized how lucky Lorcán was; she’d never tell him, but she found herself feeling slightly envious of the moment he had gotten to have with someone he’d cared so deeply about. Borrowed time that she’d probably never get to have.

The boy had also shown her the stone-like object that Jonas had left him with, and went so far as to hand it to her, letting the girl examine it for herself. She also found it to be warm on her skin and somewhat reactive to her touch, its reflective and metallic sheen catching the light in such an interesting way. Aurora knew it wasn’t akin to anything she’d seen before, which made her wonder where or when it was from and the meaning behind it.

The pair had taken their time as they made their way to the Plateau, simply enjoying each other's company. Conversation had always been easy between the two of them and silence was never awkward, always comforting; they could talk about anything or nothing at all. About an hour after they had set off on their walk, they arrived at the campground, and Tad was certainly not pleased with how delayed they had been.

“Aurora! Lorcán! You two need to hurry it up, you’re last to arrive and we have a ton of work to get done. A tent has already been set up for the pair of you. Aurora, you’ll need to find Haven, the pair of you will be doing supply runs, Lorcán, you’re with Rory and Amma, you three will be cutting and placing structural components that Eden can use to wrap the hedge around and build the maze.”

Did she hear him correctly? A tent for the pair of them?

Guess that’s what they got for taking the scenic route.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to share with Lorcán- they were best friends, friends did things like this together all the time- but something about sharing the small space triggered Aurora’s fight or flight, especially when it came to her sleeping habits. What if she had a nightmare and woke up screaming like she had on some occasions? Or worse, crying? She knew he wouldn’t judge her, he’d comforted her so many nights on the beach, but sleeping in the same tent seemed oddly intimate. The redhead shook off her woes, turning to the boy. “Looks like you’re stuck with me,” She laughed, trying to keep her tone light and casual, despite the rapid thumping of her heart that betrayed her mind, “I’m going to go and find Haven, she’s probably wondering where I am and why I’m not helping her yet.”

Aurora took a few steps towards the construction site before turning back to Lorcán with a half-smile, “We'll talk later!” she promised warmly, walking away to begin the search for her winged friend. It didn't take long for the redhead to spot Haven amongst the organized chaos, and she didn't waste any time making her way over to her perch.

"Right on time as usual, Ror." Haven lilted as she approached, "You won't believe who asked me to bunk with him, and how he asked."
In Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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Location: Outside of Chimera’s Lair - Pacific Royal Campus
Welcome Home #1.059: Life Preserver
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Interaction(s): Lorcán @Lord Wraith
Previously: Calm Before the Storm

As Lorcán spun around, Aurora studied him, really taking him in. His wide orange eyes, the way his brows were furrowed and forehead creased, the beads of sweat that had collected on his temples and the subtle tremor of his hand as he grasped hers. Even his discarded blazer on the grass and the buttons of his dress shirt that he had popped open to reveal the top of his tanned chest.

The redhead was no stranger to panic attacks, so it was clear to her in that moment he was in the midst of one. As far as she knew, he’d never had one before, or at least wouldn’t be able to recognize it himself. Sure, the pair had their own secrets they kept, but more often than not they told eachother everything. She knew what he needed most in that moment was an anchor, someone to ground him back in reality. A life preserver in an endless sea of dread. So as he squeezed her hand and looked it over, checking for burns from his scorching skin, Aurora squeezed back. She kept eye contact and listened as he rattled off what was on his mind.

“I-” He started, “I don’t even know where my head is at dude, I just can’t help but feel it’s no coincidence that Amma was so spot on last night. I don’t like feelin’ trapped, that ain’t my vibe, y’know. I thought we had one more year and then we were out, free to pursue our lives.” He took a shaky breath, and Aurora’s heart broke just a little bit. In the time that she’d known him, he was always so dependable, so sturdy, which made it especially tough to see him in such a vulnerable state. “Don’t get me wrong, working for H.E.L.P. and on an Albatross would be sweet, sick even but like, if the Foundation takes the school, how much longer until the Foundation takes over H.E.L.P. entirely and wipes it out.”

He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back before he released his grasp.

“I’m glad I didn’t hurt you, I don’t think I could have forgiven myself if I had.” He added solemnly, and Aurora shook her head. She brought her now free hand back to his arm, not hesitating to place it there. Although he was still quite warm, it seemed that he was cooling down, both physically and mentally.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m okay.” Her thumb stroked his arm soothingly, attempting to calm him further. “I know you’d never hurt me.”

“I just hate the idea that we’re all being used as pawns in someone else’s game. I know to most people Jonas is a villain, but I knew the real dude and he was like the grandpa I never had. Neither of my ‘rents’ parents wanted anything to do with them, let alone me. Jonas always had time for me, even when, or if he had been Hyperion along the way.”

The redhead watched the column of Lorcán’s throat bob as he swallowed. It was evident that Torres' senseless words struck a chord with him and further complicated the dilemma that he and his family had found themselves in over the past few years. Not only were they faced with the reality of Hyperion’s impact, but the Roths mourned for another reason entirely that very few understood. The role that Jonas played in their lives, as practically part of their family, could never be minimized.

“Five years ago, everything went crazy. The worst part is, I don’t hate him for what he was trying to accomplish, I hate him for leaving us in the state we are now-” He turned away, looking back towards the stadium, no doubt recounting every detail of that ceremony over and over again. “Vulnerable.”

Lorcán sighed heavily and then returned his gaze to her own, his lips curling up into a smile. Even though Aurora knew his mind was still reeling- and it would be for a while- she breathed a little easier knowing that he was returning to himself.

“Sometimes, I hate my abilities, dude. I feel like they’re just meant for destruction and harm.”

“No they’re not, don’t say that-” She quickly tried to interject, but he continued with what she inevitably knew was coming next.

“But your abilities just seem so… freeing. Anytime you want to be somewhere else, you can be there. You’re as free as the sea. Gone, in an instant.” Lorcán’s tone softened, and as he reached out his hand, nimbly tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, Aurora audibly exhaled.

It was always a point of contention, the fact that her abilities made the world effectively her oyster, but yet she always found herself asking the same question:

What good was a teleporter who didn’t want to go anywhere?

Lorcán was right, technically she could go somewhere, anywhere, without lifting a finger. With a flicker of thought, she could whisk herself to any corner of the globe and to most, especially him, it seemed freeing. But beneath the allure of endless possibilities lay her profound sense of longing for a place to call her own, a void that no amount of teleportation could fill. Her abilities gave her the keys to the kingdom, but the castle was empty. She had a car filled with gasoline but a missing ignition. A piece of paper and pen that had no ink. P.R.C.U. was all she had left and she was not going to let the rug be pulled out from underneath her once more.

“Yet you’re probably the best constant in my life. You’re always here when I need you, lady dude.”

Aurora didn’t have the heart to explain it to him, the inner turmoil she felt as a result of her past, so she stayed quiet. She knew that he might not understand and the last thing she wanted to do was to make him feel guilty for following his dreams after graduation. Seeing the world like he always had hoped.

She couldn’t bear to clip his wings.

But as Lorcán wrapped his arms around the redhead and pulled her in, she let all of her negative thoughts ebb away as he held her. She inhaled his comforting citrus and smoke scent, felt his warmth as it radiated off of him, and relaxed. He always had that effect on her and she felt the same way as he did - he was always there when she needed him. “Thanks for checking on me, I guess I really did just need to talk.”

She gazed up at him and smiled, “Always.” The two stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, and time seemed to stand still. Did his eyes always have those small flecks of gold in them?

“Roth!” A male voice yelled and quickly took Aurora of her momentary daze. Cass appeared from around the corner, a younger brown-haired girl in tow, and waved. “I saw you beeline out of the ceremony, I assume you’re taking the news pretty hard… glad you got to him first, Aurora,” He added with a small smile and motioned to the girl behind him, “Have you had a chance to meet my sister, Ripley yet?”

“Hey, Cass.” She greeted the blonde teen. She’d gotten to know Lorcán’s family pretty well over the years, including Cassander; they had even been in a few classes together. “No, I haven’t,” she turned to the younger girl and offered her a warm smile. “Lorcán’s told me so much about you, it’s really nice to finally put a face to a name.”

“You’r-” The girl stuttered and Aurora watched as Ripley visibly studied her from head to toe. “You’re gorgeous, Lorcán never said- OW! Cass!” She shrieked as her brother gave her a sudden jab, a non-verbal (but still clear) cue to keep quiet. What was Ripley going to say that merited such a reaction? The redhead looked to Lorcán to try and figure it out, but-

Wait… was he blushing? No, he couldn’t be… right?

Deciding that it was just a trick of her eye or the glare from the morning sun, Aurora quickly pivoted back to Ripley. She still lacked the ability to properly accept a compliment, so she was thankful that Cass interjected and changed the subject before heading in the direction of the plateau, his sister headed towards her team and the administration building.

“I guess they have a point, dude.” Lorcán stated, and the girl agreed; they should probably start making their way to the construction site. “Do you want to ‘port us there, or shall we take the scenic route?”

She pretended to think for a moment, but had already made up her mind, “The scenic route.”

Bending down and picking up the boy’s blazer from the ground, she folded it neatly over her arm. “I want to avoid manual labor as long as I can,” The redhead expressed with a laugh, “Besides, I’m sure Katja can handle things until we get there.” She inclined her head in the direction they needed to head in. “Let’s go, dude. We’ll stop by the dorms on our way.”

As the pair began their walk, alone once more, Aurora couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the various conversations going on around them. Campus was abuzz with chatter surrounding the ceremony and the Foundation’s presence, and although she didn’t want to trigger another panic attack, it was hard to avoid the elephant in the room. “What do you think is going to happen?” She looked up at Lorcán, “The Foundation operates so differently, everyone knows that.”

“I’ll be honest with you, I’m scared.” The redhead revealed, looking down at her loafers as they moved along the paved pathway, “I don’t want things to change, I like them the way that they are.”
In Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The Previous Evening
As Aurora became aware of her surroundings, the first thing she noticed was how warm she was. It was a comforting kind of heat, almost as if someone had wrapped her in a blanket on a cold day. Her ears began to recognize the noises around her, not specific words, just chatter, along with the crash of the waves and the crackle of the remaining embers of a fire.

“Rora,”

A familiar voice broke through the haze and a firm but gentle hand rocked her awake. “Rora, hey, sleepy-head, everyone is turning in for the night. Can I walk you to your dorm, lady dude?”

The redhead’s eyes opened slowly, warily. It took her a minute to adjust, but after a moment she remembered where she was; they were around the campfire on the beach. The last thing that came to mind about the evening was hearing everyone’s plans post-grad, and given that the pile of driftwood in the center was now mainly ashes, some time had passed since then.

Not only had she fallen asleep, but she quickly realized that she had dozed off on Lorcán, who was the one waking her up, her head resting on his shoulder and her body tucked underneath his arm comfortably. No wonder she had been so warm. Aurora sat up in a groggy daze, “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” she started, moving the strands of copper hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear, “I didn’t mean to. I was so tired from not sleeping well last night…I don’t even know how that happened though.” She tried to piece together how she had so carelessly let herself pass out, “I didn’t miss anything important, did I?”

“Don’t even sweat it,” Lorcán beamed, smiling as he helped her to her feet. “Just the usual conversations between the brahs and the bros. Amma even chirped up.” He added, hesitating slightly before continuing.

“Less positive stuff though, totally killed the vibe before my best bro gave it some sloppy mouth to mouth. She was just going on about how the world fears us and something about being trapped on the island. It really did harsh my mellow for a minute though.” Lorcán shook his head, underplaying just how much Amma's words had gotten to him.

“It was all chill, I’m sure by tomorrow it’ll be just a memory.” He added as the pair began to walk away from the beach. Aurora nodded lazily, still waking up from her slumber. She wiped her eyes and looked up at Lorcán.

“Yeah… just a memory.”

The walk was mostly quiet, Aurora still half asleep, but it was a comfortable silence, as it always was between the two. Upon returning to her dorm, the redhead quickly fell back asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She hadn’t even bothered to change out of her sweatshirt which still smelled like the smoky campfire, subtly reminiscent of something else. Someone else.

It was the best sleep she had gotten in weeks.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

| Tuesday, September 5th, 2028
| 0600 Hours
Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot.

The first light of sunrise kissed the horizon and Aurora was already on the move. Her breath formed tiny clouds in the chill of the air as her legs beat a steady rhythm on the ground. The redhead liked running; it was a solitary sport and the only person she was up against was herself. As much as she hated the early wakeups during the school year, she preferred to go when the Island was still and quiet before the hustle and bustle of the day began. Her route varied depending on her mood, but the nature trails north of campus along the coastal cliffs were her favorite, which is where she found herself this morning.

It was humid with dense clouds rolling in overhead, indicating a storm was brewing. Luckily for her, if it started to downpour, she could be back at her dorm in no time at all. But nevertheless, she picked up speed, winding with the natural pathway carved through the trees. The wind was to her back, pushing her along, and upbeat music played through her headphones to help maintain her pace. Sweat gathered at her brow and as she approached the furthest point of the trail, her mind danced through a myriad of thoughts, unraveling her emotions like tangled threads. Each heavy exhale allowed her to release the tension she felt, and each deep inhale brought her more peace.

As she reached the crest of the hill and the lookout over the cliffs, she took off her headphones and let the crash of the surf and the whistle of the breeze become her soundtrack. On a clear day, you could normally see the vague outline of the mainland, but fog engulfed the sightlines and the sea stretched out into nothingness.

In that moment, Aurora pretended that the real world didn’t exist at all.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Myotis Dorm ➜ Mess Hall ➜ Chimera’s Lair - Pacific Royal Campus
Welcome Home #1.046: Calm Before the Storm
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): Lorcán @Lord Wraith, Harper @Qia, Haven @Skai, Calliope @PatientBean
Previously: Dreaming


Aurora did an efficient turnaround upon returning from her run; a shower, followed by a quick breakfast with her roommates in their shared kitchen, before changing into her outfit for the day. She was looking forward to wearing her uniform for the first time this school year, but inevitably the novelty would fade a few weeks into the semester like it always did. Today she chose to represent her house, pairing the muted purple blouse with the matching tartan skirt and nude tights. She was fortunate that Myotis’ color suited her copper hair and fair skin. Had she been in Strigidae or Canis she would definitely have felt otherwise.

Looking at the time, she did a final check of herself in the mirror, fussing with her natural waves and slipping on her loafers, before heading out the door and making her way to the Community Farm to complete her contribution before the ceremony. Aurora’s task today was simple, watering the plot of perennial flowers that were to be used for the senior dance, but as she did so all she could think about was yesterday’s fiasco. Hopefully the dust had settled and everyone had gotten over the awkwardness, but that was possibly wishful thinking.

Before she knew it, the redhead was done with her responsibilities and approaching the Mess Hall, easily spotting her teammates who were gathered around their faculty advisor, Tad. She gave him a wave before joining the group, arriving just in time to catch a glimpse of Lorcán’s bright red boxers. She quickly turned her head and averted her gaze, half to give him some privacy, half to hide the blush that immediately appeared on her face. Fortunately, the group began walking towards the Stadium, which gave her the chance to return back to her normal color without anyone noticing. Once they entered Chimera’s Lair, she fell into step beside the brown haired boy and took her usual seat next to him.

As the ceremony began, Aurora stood and hummed along with the national anthem. Although it technically wasn’t her own, she liked to join in to some extent as she had been living in Canada nearly as long as she had been in the states. She felt she owed the country something, at the very least her respect, for providing her safe asylum all these years. The redhead paid attention as Jim - well, now Chancellor O’Neill - approached the microphone and started to speak.

“It was here on this island that I found not only a family, but also a home. This island, this school and its campus, it is my hope that each of you find it just as welcoming now as I did then. I hope that you look at the people beside you, the people you share a dorm with and you see not only friends, but people who you can rely on and trust indiscriminately.”

Family. Home.

The words struck a chord. It was silly how such small words affected her, how they made her feel. The concept of a family and a home had always remained a complex and unresolved issue for Aurora. She was often torn between the yearning for roots and the fear of being uprooted once more. The familiarity of Dundas Island and the friendships she cultivated on campus provided a semblance of belonging, yet a lingering unease persisted within her. The very notion of family and home seemed elusive, a distant dream slipping through her fingers, and more often than not she questioned what those words truly meant. If she’d ever find meaning in them.

“Given the current societal climate, circumstances beyond our control have conspired to invalidate our accreditations. To be straight with y’all, Pacific Royal has recently lost its accreditations for our degree programs in the engineering, law and medical fields. Students currently completing those will graduate with a degree not recognized for career certifications.”

“WHAT?”

Even though Harper was the only one to blurt something out, she heard Calliope suck in a breath, no doubt the blonde’s legal dreams flashing before her eyes, and saw Haven’s brow furrow, the winged girl trying to figure out how this affected her. In fact, all around them students were reacting to the news in different ways.

Of course it was disheartening. The degree Aurora had worked so hard towards over the past 4 years - all the late nights in the library, the endless juggling of responsibilities, the stressful days of back to back classes - would be for nothing. But, at the same time, she didn’t have as much to lose as the others. Her future plans were still up in the air; she wasn’t even sure if she’d ever leave the Islands, ever even want to. So, as disappointing as this was to the redhead, she could, and would, manage. A small part of her even sighed in relief knowing she had more time to figure this whole thing out. But for her friends, her teammates, it was another story.

Aurora could see Lorcán’s demeanor shift out of the corner of her eye- the way his grip tightened around the base of his seat and the redness that appeared on his face. She had only seen him angry a few times since she’d known him, so for him to be reacting this way was not taken lightly.

“As many of you are already aware, the Alexandria Foundation is here this year to audit Pacific Royal and to bring it up to our standards. We’re interested in acquiring this school and helping it move past that, what would you call it Mr. O’Neil? Little faux-pas with your previous Chancellor.”

Aurora gasped, her hand moving to cover her mouth, the hairs standing up on her neck. For that woman to boil the unthinkable and unspeakable time in Pacific Royal’s history down to, as she called it, a ‘faux-pas’, shook the redhead to her core. She remembered every detail of that fateful day on the Plateau, as did everyone who was on campus then. The damage and the fallout would be etched into her memory and heart forever.

"I'll give her a really nice Pacific Royal Welcome after this."

"Whoever she is, I hate her. If she thinks I'm doing anything to make her life easier here, she has another thing coming."

As the ceremony came to a close, the entire stadium shocked into an uncomfortable silence, the redhead turned to Lorcán, knowing how deep the situation cut for him and his family. However, she found herself looking up at him as he shot up out of his seat not even before Jim had dismissed them.

“I think I need some air.”

Aurora couldn’t react quickly enough to stop him. “Lorcán, wait,” She called after him, but it was lost in the mix of the shocked chatter and chaos around them. She looked around at her teammates as things concluded, taking in everyone’s ranging emotions all at once. Some sat there stoic or confused while others were just as upset as Lorcán was. Her eyes fell to Tad, who was also trying to assess the situation, and as they made eye contact, he inclined his head towards the exit where Lorcán had just fled. She nodded, understanding without a word needing to be spoken, “I’ll go after him. We’ll meet you at the Plateau.”

The redhead focused her mind and visualized where she wanted to go, and in an instant, she was gone.

Teleporting didn’t feel like much. Sometimes she could make out the vague sensation of her body being pulled elsewhere, but most of the time it was more of a weightlessness. Like the way your stomach feels at the top of a roller coaster before gravity kicks in. As soon as her feet felt the cushion of the grass outside of the stadium, her eyes darted around frantically, looking for Lorcán. It didn’t take long for her to find him, pacing and moving his hands as if he was playing his bass, tapping his right thumb against his belt and his left hand working an invisible fretboard. Aurora sighed, relieved, and closed the distance between them.

“Lorcán,”

It was pointless to ask if he was okay; it was evident that he was not. Visually, his shoulders were taut and tense, and as she searched his eyes, she noticed they were darker than usual. Even the air around him was higher in temperature. She gently tried to place a hand on his arm, not wanting to set him off, but quickly recoiled after feeling how hot his skin was to the touch.

“Hey, hey, breathe, talk to me.”
In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Timestamp: Between 7:00am and 7:30am
Location: BHHS Art Room ➜ Homeroom
Starring: Tatum Sterling
The art room was hidden in the east wing of Beverly Hills High School, nestled away from the hustle and bustle of the main corridor. It was a secluded sanctuary for all who ventured there, tucked into the far end of the ground floor past the hum of everyday academic life. The walls were adorned with splashes of color, a tapestry of eclectic work from past and present students, and tall, wide windows filled the studio with natural exposure. Paintbrushes stood poised in jars, waiting to bring blank canvases to life and the scent of paint hung in the air, endless tubes of acrylics strewn across the brown paper covered benches.

Mornings were Tatum’s favorite time to be in the studio, specifically when the rays of early light from the sunrise streamed in, illuminating the space in warm hues of yellow and orange. It also never hurt to have the room to herself so she could work in peace, most students not willing to wake up that early to make progress on their projects. The brunette sat pensively in front of her easel and canvas, her wavy hair held back from her eyes by a navy bandana. She gazed critically at her nearly completed painting, nitpicking the smallest of details to ensure it was up to her high standards.

The piece showcased a girl’s reflection in a broken mirror. Painted fragments of glass covered the canvas, with different slivers of facial features scattered across the shards- lips, teeth, nose and freckled porcelain skin. Adding a few final brustrokes, Tate sighed, wiping her hands on her paint stained jeans. The girl looked deeply into the mirror she had positioned next to her station before turning it towards the wall, no longer needing the reference of her own face for the self portrait. She rarely made herself the subject of her paintings, preferring to choose her friends or family to base her work around. Recently though, she had been feeling some type of way, and she often found that the best way to cope and process was to look at her own inner turmoil from a creative lens.

In the simplest terms, it was an abstract depiction of the dilemma the teenager found herself in, but at its essence, the canvas detailed the fragmented nature of her identity and her struggle to reconcile external expectations with internal authenticity. She had always been torn between being the person her mother expected and told her to be and figuring out the person she truly wanted to be. It was a weight that was getting harder to bear each day. In her youth, it was easier to conform to the rigid standards imposed upon her, but as she approached adulthood it became much more challenging to control the dissonance between her perception of self and her actual reality. In the painting, she had utilized cooler toned shades- blues, teals, pinks, and taupes- to evoke the sense of detachment and melancholy she felt.

The clicking of heels echoed on the linoleum tiles and bounced off of the walls of the empty room, indicating someone’s imminent approach. Tatum turned and made eye contact with Mrs. Gibson, the art teacher, offering her a warm smile. Mrs. Gibson was always polished and had a certain air of sophistication about her. Maybe it was the many years she had spent out east as an art curator for some of the top galleries in Manhattan that informed her poise. She held herself with pride, each step strong and deliberate.

“Morning, Mrs. Gibson,” Tate chimed, setting down her paintbrush on her palette, “Thanks for lending me the studio keys again so I could come in before homeroom,” The brunette reached down to open her backpack and fished around until she found the keychain that she was looking for, “I really appreciate it.” She expressed, extending her arm out to return it to the older woman.

Shaking her head, Mrs. Gibson motioned for Tatum to take back her outstretched hand. “Please hold onto them, I insist.” She stated, “I had an extra set made so you could keep those, I’m not sure why I didn’t do it sooner given how often we do this dance.” The woman leaned up against one of the benches, eyes drifting towards the canvas propped on the easel.

“Are you sure? I couldn’t take these… besides, I’m sure the administration would freak out if they knew a student had the keys to a classroom.” The voice of reason in Tatum’s head (and the avid rule follower in her) sounded an alarm, the girl letting those thoughts become words that fell from her lips.

“Ms. Sterling, you are one of the most promising students to come through my studio in years. Nothing would bring me more happiness than to grant you the ability to come and go as you pleased. How else will you continue to hone your craft?” Mrs. Gibson affirmed before moving closer to inspect the painting more intentionally, “You’ve outdone yourself with this one, Tatum, it’s exquisite. Any specific meaning behind it?”

“It’s uh…” The brunette started, attempting to find the right words, unsure of how to explain the innermost workings of her psyche. “It’s personal, but I guess I could summarize-”

“No, no, dear. That’s quite alright.” The older woman could sense Tatum’s unease and dropped the question all together. With a sigh, Mrs. Gibson clasped her hands together behind her back, “Art is, in my opinion, a therapeutic outlet. I only hope that you were able to find some resolve for whatever this piece was based on.”

Tatum cocked her head, looking at the painting, and then back to her teacher. “I think so, at least momentarily.” She replied, not sure if that was true, or just something she was saying to deviate the subject. Hoping for a reprieve, the girl tapped her phone to check the time, realizing she should probably start heading to class. Quickly and efficiently, she brought her brushes and palette over to the sink to rinse them off for the next student to use. “I better get going, the bell is going to ring in a few minutes and the last thing I need is Ms. Honeycutt to write me up again.”

The brunette gathered her belongings before shifting the easel back towards the wall so no one would bump into it. “Thank you again, I’ll be back later. Between you and me, I might ditch the pep rally.” She laughed, “I’m not really the school spirit type, as you could probably guess.” Tate motioned to her lack of red and black clothes, not one to dress in theme like some of her peers.

Mrs. Gibson chuckled, but nodded, “Quite alright, but you might surprise yourself, maybe this year will be the year you find a reason to join in on the fun.”

“Doubtful, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” The teenager smirked, turning on her heel and heading for the door. She wondered if that was possible, but shook off the notion and just took it as wishful thinking.

“And Tatum,” Mrs. Gibson called after the brunette, the girl stopping in her tracks and spinning around to face her, “I trust you and I know you’re responsible, so I know you wouldn’t do such a thing, but please don’t let anyone else use those keys. I shouldn’t need to say it, but you know that some students would abuse that kind of privilege.”

Tatum nodded sharply, understanding completely. “Of course, you have nothing to worry about Mrs. G.” The girl reassured her teacher before continuing out of the art room and towards her homeroom. She bobbed and weaved her own path through the busy hallways, giving most of her peers a wide berth and staying out of the way of more bold personalities.

Within minutes she had arrived at Mr. Phoenix’s room, the clock reading 7:27am. She was on time without being the first one there, just how she liked it. Tatum took her usual seat on the left side, closest to the window; she tended to avoid the back of the class as well as the front, preferring to sit in the middle where eyes didn’t tend to linger. Getting situated, she reached down into her bag and grabbed her sketchbook and pencils, opening to a fresh page and beginning to draw whatever next crossed her mind.
In BHHS: Limitless → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TIMESTAMP: Between 7:00am and 7:20am
Stella Manning & Ramón Montoya
@Melissa & @Aces Away



________________________________________________________________________________

Stella had spent this morning, like most mornings, in front of her mirror.

The blonde always took ample time to primp and preen before school to ensure she looked her best, and today was no exception. There was something about dressing to a theme that she loved, and as it was the last day of spirit week, she wanted to go out with a bang. Stella knew how to stand out from the crowd, that was for sure.

Her makeup was flawless as usual, and her hair was meticulously curled (and promptly brushed out) to create loose effortless waves that cascaded over her shoulders. The outfit was all Mo - a red checkered skirt with a red striped long sleeve shirt, black knee high boots, complete with a shiny black belt.

The only thing missing now? Caffeine.

Oh, and Ramón. Which is what led Stella to lay on her car horn outside of his house, hoping the boy would hurry the fuck up so they could make a coffee stop before school. One would think that because they lived only a few doors down, they chose to carpool for the environmental benefits. Those who thought that would be wrong - it was purely for gossip purposes.

The blonde honked again, this time earning some dirty looks from their less than friendly neighbors. Stella shot them daggers back, beginning to tap the wheel with her painted nails impatiently.

Ramón came strutting out of his front door less than ten seconds after she started her honking, dressed to the nines in deep red dress pants and matching suit jacket over a soft black and white floral sketched button up. Black dress socks peeked out from white shoes and he rounded the outfit out with dark tortoise shell framed sunglasses. He had his signature bitch face in place as he ducked down to the open window to stare at his childhood ride or die, dipping the sunglasses down on his face to expose his dark judgmental eyes accentuated by black winged eyeliner and shimmering red shadow.

“This is why Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson hate you,” He spoke plainly before opening the door and sliding in without another thought, putting his bookbag in her backseat but keeping his small clutch with his upkeep items next to him, turning fully in his seat to glare at her. “Where the fuck is your eyeshadow, bitch, do you want your face washed out against all the color around it? You can look your normal level of hot any other time but this is spirit week and I had rules,” He unzipped his clutch and pulled out his palette and brush as well as a tissue. He laid the tissue across his hand, ever mindful of the makeup that she did have on, and extended his covered thumb and forefinger towards her expectantly and waited for her to rest her face there. “Why do you hate me?”

Stella raised an eyebrow with a devilish glint in her eye, taking Ramón’s comment merely as a challenge. She promptly rolled down the rear two windows before cranking the volume of her music almost as loud as it could go, yes, and? blasting through the car’s speakers.

“Let them hate me then,” she smirked at her best friend, “and if they want to kill me, they can get in line. Katie Callaghan has been waiting too damn long to get rid of me herself for those geezers to get a free pass.”

She found herself shaking her head as Mo commented on her lack of eyeshadow. Always a perfectionist, always particular. But, she obliged and humored him, obediently moving her face to sit in his tissue covered grasp. “If you make me look like I have the flu or some other venereal disease with that red eyeshadow instead of the vixen that I am, you can get your perky ass out of this car and walk.”

“And have you look like a hooker walking next to me in the halls?” Mo looked offended that she would even suggest he would fail at his task. “Absolutely not.” The next couple minutes were spent getting her eyeshadow just right while his geriatric neighbors glared at them from their window. Just as he’d finished and settled into his seat to get his seatbelt on, his oldest sister Rosa came barrelling out the front door and towards the car, her hair a wild mess and a look of murder on her face.

“Shit, we woke her up. Go. Gogogo,” He stressed to Stella, only relaxing when they’d safely left his driveway with his sister flipping them off in the rearview. He leaned back and let out a little laugh with his sigh of relief. “She would have killed us.”

“Oh please, like I would have let that happen.” The blonde reassured, navigating her Audi down side streets until they hit the main road. She checked her reflection in the rearview as they approached a stoplight, satisfied with Ramón’s handiwork. He was always right, even though she hated admitting it, the red eyeshadow bringing a warmth and color to her face that her mixed print outfit had stolen prior. “What’s even up with her lately, she’s been so moody.” Stella commented, taking the opportunity to look her friend in the eye as she turned right.

“Fucking elections are next month and I'm pretty sure she hasn't slept in like a week, which mean no one has slept in like a week, it's killing my complexion,” he answered honestly, checking his black and red nail polish carelessly. “Papá isn't helping of course, too busy on the shaking hands and kissing babies route to really follow everything she wants him to do to ensure his spot, so it's crunch time for her,” he looked his friend dead in the eye before she had to put her attention back on the road and smirked. He may love and respect his family but he is still the youngest of four kids, and he takes his revenge from life with his siblings any moment he can get. “She had just fallen asleep an hour ago, I was supposed to wake her up fifteen minutes after the fact but she just looked so comfy with her face smushed into the couch cushion that I couldn't bear to wake her.”

Ramón wiped a fake tear from his eye before laughing and pulling out his phone and bringing up his images. The first picture was of his oldest sister doing her best unconscious impression of Anna from frozen, hair a mess despite the short time laying down, drool coming out of the corner of her mouth and one arm slung over her head while the other was crushed beneath her body. He waved the phone teasingly at his friend as she pulled into the drive thru.

“Want to see?”

“Someone really needs to get that girl a Xanax. I’d be happy to, you can tell her I said that.” Stella stated matter of factly, pressing firmly on the brake as they fell into the line of cars awaiting their caffeine fix. Growing up together meant that Ramón’s family had practically become an extension of her own. His parents were like a bonus set, and as for his siblings, well, she was just as judgemental and mean to them as if they were her own blood. It was the blonde’s own fucked up and unconventional way of showing affection. “Of course I want to see.”

She took Ramón’s phone from his hand, zooming in on the first photo and dissolving into a laugh. “You should have drawn something on her face with that bulletproof liquid liner you made me try once, why didn’t you?” She scrolled to the next one, which was almost funnier than the first. “God, she’s out cold.” Stella continued to peruse the images until a loud honking came from behind them, interrupting. She scoffed before whipping around to face the offender, a woman no more than 40 years old gesturing that the cars ahead of them had moved, implying they were holding up the line.

Stella flipped her off, absolutely unbothered, turning back around and stepping on the gas “Fucking Karen,” she spat, pulling up to the intercom. “Hi, yes, princess here will have a venti light iced almond milk Dirty Chai, blonde ristretto shots, 2 extra shots affogato, whipped cream with dolce powder on top.” She practically gagged as the words left her mouth, Ramón’s complicated order never ceasing to revolt her, “And I’ll have a nitro cold brew. Black.”

She paused, going back and forth in her mind on something. With a sigh, she spoke into the intercom once more. “And a chai latte, shot of espresso on the side.” Stella put the car back into drive and looped to the other side of the building where their drinks would be waiting.

Mo was now staring intently at the side of his friend’s face with a raised eyebrow, completely unbelieving that he had just heard her order a drink for someone not in the car and a bit annoyed that he knew who it was for. Putting that on the backburner until he could get her other comments out of the way, he addressed the first matter.

“Reina stole that eyeliner from me when she went off on her last tour and I haven’t seen it since. It’s fine, I stole her leather skirt while she was gone and she hasn’t noticed yet,” Ramón dismissed, returning his phone to his clutch and closing the bag. “Girl if you make that face while ordering my drink one more time I will hold you down by your hair and force it down your throat. Not everyone can handle things as bitter and dark as you are,” he slid the sunglasses down his nose to once again stare at her from over top the frames, eyebrow raised. “Although it looks like you’ll need the caffeine if you want to keep up your energy to run that race,” he hinted towards the third drink, which was not something he was kind enough to just ignore, especially when it was basically his fault she had the other person to buy the drink for in the first place.

Candy King faux pas for sure.

“Looking for a quickie before school or should I text Cael that you aren’t making it to homeroom?”

Stella was wholly unphased by Mo’s stare, rolling her eyes in response as they pulled up to the window. It was no secret that her friend had strong feelings about her relationship status, and she knew he was going to give her shit as soon as she decided to order an extra coffee, but the blonde didn’t bother entertaining the subject. The all too chipper employee handed her the four cups on a tray, which she promptly passed over to Ramón so that she could pay. Grabbing her purse, she opened her wallet and handed over her Platinum card. The childhood besties weren’t the type to split the bill and/or request funds from the other. They simply operated on an alternating basis, taking turns paying for coffee, lunch, and drinks, fully knowing that at some point they’d be even.

Slipping the metal card back into her wallet, Stella pulled out of the drive thru and back out onto the road. “Neither, I’m just setting myself up for success this weekend.” Of course, the blonde always had an agenda, most of it self-serving, but an agenda nonetheless. No acts of kindness were out of the goodness of her heart, and as it was her last homecoming weekend, it had to be perfect. Which meant she was hoping a certain someone would cooperate and be on his best behavior.

“Speaking of, I’m still coming over after school so we can make sure my dress doesn’t need any alterations, right? I want to see it already.”

“I supposed I've no one to blame but myself,” Ramón sighed dramatically before taking a long sip of his delicious beverage. It was his fault for setting the two up together so he really did have to suck it up, but he was still making his feelings known. When he set them up it had been under the impression from all parties that this would not last, And it seems Ramón is the only one that remembers that part of the memo. “Of course you are, you impatient brat,” he responded to her following question with a judgmental eye roll and a scoff. “Perfection leads up to the last minute, but both fortunately and un- for both of us- I know your body and measurements so well that I only need you for the final fitting. Keeps me from having you breath over my shoulder like a rabid dog while I'm trying to create my masterpieces.”

“I may be a brat but I am NOT impatient.” Stella countered, “I get that perfection can’t be rushed- look who you’re talking to- but you’re really down to the wire on this one even by my standards.” The blonde trusted her bestie when it came to all things fashion. She was his biggest supporter and was always left in awe by his creations. But that didn’t change the fact that he was taking his sweet ‘ol time with her homecoming dress.

Before they knew it, Stella was pulling her Audi into the parking lot of Beverly Hills High School, rolling up the windows and turning down the music. The blonde took one last look in her rearview mirror, tousling her hair and applying some lip gloss, before taking the coffee tray from Mo’s hands which held the 3 remaining cups. Stepping out of the car, she grabbed her backpack from the backseat and threw it over her shoulder, locking the door once Ramón had gathered his belongings. She gestured to her complete look before doing a small twirl. “Up to your standards, Edna?”

“Of course it is, darling,” Ramón replied in mock offense with his best Edna Mode impression, hand held up limply in front of his chest with his elbow resting on the arm around his midsection. “I put it together for you after all, and I'm a genius,” he held the condescending pose for another moment before the playful smirk broke through on his lips and he moved forward to link elbows with his bestie for the restie and they began to strut toward the school in unison. “Now, let's show these bitches how it's done.”

As they walked, Stella took stock of their surroundings, her black boots clicking satisfyingly along the pavement as she and Mo approached the double doors. A few football players stood there chatting, and as she passed, she could hear their conversation shift, now revolving around her presence. The blonde liked the attention, in fact, she thrived on it, so when one of the players (ever a gentleman) went so far as to open the door for her and Mo, she smirked, winking at him before entering the school. “Is it just me, or are this year’s sophomores built like seniors...” she whispered closely to Ramón’s ear.

“Maybe,” Ramón replied, equally as quiet. “But I prefer someone that actually had the experience to handle me, not just someone that looks like he could,” he tightened the connection of their arms as they continued on, not needing to slip past people as they stepped out of his and Stella's path. “What good is all that muscle if they don't know what they're doing with it? Besides, they're so immature. I just heard one giggle when he saw your tits bouncing on that last step.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, “I guess, but their brains are like putty at that age, you can mold them to be whatever you want,” Stella commented, “Hotness is bestowed, everything else can be taught.”

The two made their way through the building with relative ease, reaching the hallway where Stella’s home room was. Still a few minutes early, she removed her arm from Ramón’s and leaned against the set of lockers outside of the classroom. She held the coffee tray with one hand, and pulled out her phone with the other, shooting a quick text.

To: Hoe
Got you coffee… felt like being nice today. Shocking, I know.
Meet me before homeroom if you want it.
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