Mirandae

Harold's Academy for the Magically Inclined

@Crimson Flame@Emeth@Silver Carrot

There might be options on ArtStation. They have different sections, but I've linked Anime & Manga and Character Design here. In the lower right corner of the site, you've got a little tool for choosing 2d/3d and other settings.

artstation.com/channels/anime_manga?s…
artstation.com/channels/character_des…

OBLIVION

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﹂ Hanna's mind wove a dream and bizarre reverie of ethereal enchantment in her darkened state. In the vision, she sat by the foot of an imposing, monolithic tree with branches reaching far and wide. Its emerald leaves shimmered in the radiance of two suns sharing the sky above. The roots of the tree, gnarled and knotted, burrowed deep into the nourishing bosom of Mother Earth. An array of forest creatures and critters surrounded Hanna where she sat. The animals consisted of everything from noble stags to nimble squirrels, their eyes dotted with the same hue as the leaves of the tree. Curiously, Hanna observed the verdant growth of minute leaves budding on her skin, roots creeping, twining about her in a tender embrace. Her body had transformed into a living tapestry of flora, each leaf, each root, a brushstroke in this work of art. As she reached out to touch the bark of the tree, her dream dissolved, evanescing like a morning mist kissed by the dawn. ﹂ Hanna's senses began to stir awake. She was roused by the echo of her name, like a lighthouse beacon cutting through the fog. The words were distorted, a cryptic chorus of muffled sound that came and went like waves breaking against the shore. Her lips parted and from the depths of her muddled consciousness and dusty demeanor came comforting words. “I'm here... not dead.” Her presence had found its way out into the open air again, an eddy of defiance in the stagnant silence of her mind, answering Anni's worry. She wore a new guise, no longer the impeccably put-together picture of fashion that she was earlier. Her clothes hung from her body in tatters, as if stolen from some vagabond's worn-out wardrobe. The artwork of cosmetics she had meticulously painted on her face now resembled a child's frantic finger painting, the colors smeared and melded into one chaotic tableau. “Fuuuuck, I feel that.” Hanna grumbled, her gaze falling on her lower leg. It bore the brutal evidence of their ordeal, the skin torn and flecked with droplets of drying blood. She winced at the sight, instinctively covering the area with her hand. Strangely, like an enigmatic magician's trick, the pain receded to an echo, manageable and distant. “Never mind, I'm good.” She murmured, a grin of relief playing on her lips as she finally opened her eyes to see the utter devastation around her. ﹂ It was a scene so surreal, it teetered on the edge of lunacy that mocked the confines of logic and reason. Hanna felt herself adrift in a sea of disjointed memories, flashes of 'before' tumbling like leaves caught in a storm. But it was the sight of her friends that anchored her to the 'now'. Ivy and Anni were there, their presence an unspoken testament to their resilience. Hanna was delighted to see them both, especially Ivy. The assertive tone of Jack's voice echoed like a comforting melody close by. Lucas and CJ were missing from her line of sight, their absence gnawing at her, but optimism, like a buoy in turbulent waters, reassured her -- they had to have made it too. Pushing against the ground, Hanna tried to stand, only to crumble back down as her leg sent waves of protest, the pain ricocheting through her like a stray bullet. “Fuck dude! What the fuck is this shit?! Are you going to hurt or not?!” She growled at her traitorous limb. Laying on the exaggerated theatrics, she sniffled pathetically and turned her woebegone expression towards Ivy. “Mommy, I can't get up -- pleeease.” She whined, her hands reaching out towards Ivy, their chipped nails fluttering like the wings of a wounded bird. ﹂ If Ivy or any other self-appointed savior would step up to the challenge, an unexpected metamorphosis would begin to unfurl at the very instance their skin made contact with Hanna's. It would be puzzling energy, eliciting a silent symphony of remedy that would dissipate all traces of pain like smoke in the wind. It would be akin to the phenomenon Hanna had experienced earlier with her wounded leg. Not only would it alleviate physical discomfort, but it would also unleash a wave of euphoria flowing through their veins like a benevolent trespasser. It would be akin to the intoxicating allure of morphine, a soothing balm that would numb the residual sting of emotional confusion and panic, a slow and comforting sensation spreading throughout their frame. The exact manifestation of this sensory symphony would be a little different for each person. But regardless of the variations in individual response, the immediate and profound effect would be indisputable. It would be a sensation that, once experienced, would be as distinct and familiar as their own heartbeat. It would leave them caught in the liminal space between disbelief and acceptance within mere seconds of their touch with Hanna. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.02 CAUGHT IN THE CLUTCHES Skyline Dreaming ritman high [football field] interacting with: Anni/@Kuro Ivy/@CaliforniaState ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Harold's Academy for the Magically Inclined

Great to see that you are back on your feet @Aeolian. Very impressive return. Keeping an eye on this for sure! :)

OBLIVION

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Caught between the intoxicating effects of the alcohol she had consumed and the capricious symphony of the girl trio's moods, Hanna felt akin to a marionette with her strings cut. Reality seemed to be dipped in a coat of the surreal, the ground beneath her adopting the comfortingly treacherous texture of quicksand. Her navigation through this labyrinth was eased, however, by Ivy's constant stream of chatter that anchored the purpose of their visit to Ritman Field. A blush of rosy hue painted Hanna's cheeks at Ivy's quip about the 'bureaucratic circle', the absurdity of a literal interpretation of the phrase provoking a hidden mirth within her. But her response was a mute one, a grin of shared amusement and a suppressed chuckle. A soft “Hey--” escaped Hanna's lips in response to the 'hate mail' comment. It was ludicrous and yet not entirely unfathomable. The memory of a crowd from her past, their faces twisted in annoyance, flashed before her — Anni's was among them. Her thoughts were abruptly scattered when Ivy's sudden clapping resonated through the field. Hanna recoiled as if subjected to a shock of electricity, a gasped “Jesus--” marking her surprise. Anticipation sparkled in her eyes, though. The grand unveiling of their shared past was nigh. Her fingers mimed drumming in the air, her voice attempted a dramatic drumroll, only to botch the sound effect with an ill-timed “Ba-Dum-Tss!”. Her humor was soon to be muted, though, as Ivy's countenance morphed into one of disappointment. A shiver of concern ran through her as she echoed Ivy's bewilderment, her eyes falling upon the empty capsule. Hanna's jubilant smile faded into a frown of concern. She was familiar with Ivy's propensity to take setbacks to heart, especially when the setback concerned something close to her. But this was not the right setting for their usual comforting routine. The alcohol coursing through her veins made her overly empathetic, tuning her into the poignant waves of emotions emanating from Ivy. It was a challenging moment, one they would eventually navigate past as they always did. Hanna moved to Ivy's side, her fingers gently catching a stray tear on Ivy's cheek. “We probably just got another class's capsule. It's not the end of the world. We'll just get the right one tomorrow and do this again.” Her words of comfort hovered in the air, but Ivy's attention was arrested by the book and the singular ominous word it bore: Oblivion. What ensued was a display of the uncanny that Hanna initially attributed to the alcohol playing tricks on her. The letters from the book seemed to take on a life of their own, springing toward Ivy like predators on their prey. A gasped exclamation ripped through Hanna's throat -- “What the fuck!” -- her grip on Ivy slackened as she recoiled from the spectacle. Then, chaos ensued. It felt like the earth beneath was rebelling, its surface convulsing as if caught in an earthquake or a whirlwind. As Ivy succumbed to a strange transformation, Hanna could not help but wonder if their drinks had been spiked with something more potent. She barely had time to register her thoughts before an explosion of sorts swallowed them, plunging everything into darkness. Hanna was thrown into a chasm of unconsciousness. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO すてきな p. johnson's ▸ ritman high football field interacting with: Ivy/@CaliforniaState ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

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“AAAHHH!” A cascade of ecstatic sound, more akin to an orchestral crescendo than a scream, burst from Hanna's lungs. It was a siren's call of pure, unfettered bliss that echoed around the room at the prospect of carpooling. “What do you mean 'not exciting'?!” she rebuked, eyes shining brighter than a supernova. “This is the best thing ever so far!” She chimed in unison with the pulsating music in the background. Hanna's hands came together, a blur of motion, palms meeting in a series of rapid-fire claps interspersed with peculiar smudging motions as though she were sculpting the very joy in the air. Hanna giggled all the way to the car. Each sound escaping her presence formed a melody of disproportionate exhilaration. Like an eager child on Christmas morning, she flitted along, her footfalls punctuating the evening with their rhythmic beat, arm in arm with Ivy. Every so often, Hanna's head glanced over her shoulder, eyes darting to ensure nobody was left behind. It was an odd paranoia, one borne of alcohol's whispering shadows, that saw her vigilantly guarding her flock like a shepherdess guiding her bleating charges to safer pastures. “Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun,” Hanna chanted, her voice a wind chime caught in a playful breeze. The phrase became a mantra, the soundtrack to her impromptu sprint toward the car. It was the prize at the end of her dash -- the passenger seat door was her golden ticket, and she was the excited kid ready to claim her ride in the chocolate factory. As the car approached the familiar school grounds, Hanna was confronted by an onslaught of memories that flooded her consciousness, much like an unexpected tidal wave crashing onto a tranquil beach. The familiarity of the school grounds invoked a nostalgia that held both the sweet melancholy of a sepia-toned photograph and the sharp sting of an old wound infected with cringe -- much like a horror movie that one watches between split fingers. Her deep-sea dive into the fathomless depths of her memory was abruptly halted by Ivy's call to motion. “Come on, guys, let's go!” Hanna's voice shrieked through the confined space of the vehicle, akin to an air raid siren wailing through the echoing canyons of a deserted city, its intensity amplified by the alcohol she had imbibed earlier. Stepping out of the car, the short saunter to the heart of the football field was a temporal paradox, an uncanny experience that felt both as fleeting as a butterfly's flight and as enduring as a solar eclipse. Hanna's world spun on its axis, not quite a vertiginous whirl, but enough to keep her unsteady. A straight path was navigable as long as Ivy remained her sturdy companion, arms together. As Ivy, the dusky Aphrodite, prepared to address their small party, Hanna raised a cautioning finger to her lips. She released a drawn-out shush, her exaggerated theatricality rendering her as comical as a mime performing in the park. An impish grin danced upon her face, one that mimicked the vacant euphoria of a marionette, oblivious to the strings that pulled her along. As inevitable as the rising sun, Hanna's emotional dam splintered at the height of Ivy's heartfelt soliloquy. Tears, the shimmering ambassadors of her overwhelming sentiment, welled up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over in a deluge of raw emotion. Her hands fluttered before her face, a futile dance of denial akin to a hummingbird's vain attempt to repel an impending storm. It was the raw sincerity and unadulterated authenticity in Ivy's delivery that truly unraveled Hanna's emotional composure. Yet, guilt played its part too, a gnawing sense of shared responsibility for any hiccups during their tenure at Ritman that haunted her like an inescapable specter. “Lucas is right,” Hanna concurred, her voice shaking like an autumn leaf caught in crosswinds. Her words bore the weight of unwavering conviction. “It's not your fault, babe. It was the school and its bureaucratic circus that failed us.” Amidst her cathartic release, Hanna sought to regain her composure. With the grace of an eraser wiping clean a chalk-smeared board, she brushed away the errant tears that had streaked down her cheeks. These were the tears that had broken free from the confines of her glistening eyes, brave explorers charting a course down the contours of her face. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO すてきな p. johnson's ▸ ritman high football field interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde Lucas/@Mao Mao ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

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Hanna was definitely Harley Quinn to Ivy's Poison. The thought had never entered her occasionally chaotic head before, but it made perfect sense and was quite witty. On that note, their old High School embers had without doubt ignited again. Hanna was infinitely grateful that their reunion had been so smooth and superfast. She locked arms with the mellow beauty as they scuttled towards the bar. “We'd make awesome villains in the new Batman movies with Twilight-guy as the Batman. Have you seen it, the latest one? Fuuuuck, it's sooo good,” Hanna gushed at the memory of said film. The gals had already arrived at the bar by the end of Hanna's chatter. The bartender that had recognized her earlier just finished up with another customer, then pointed at the drink that Hanna had ordered before going into the bathroom. “Oh sweet Vodka and orange juice, how I love you so.” Hanna lightly giggled as she took the first sip of the drink through a black straw. “Anyway, you think he was hot in Twilight? Holy shit is he giga-hot as the new Batman. He's, like, the finest piece of socially awkward brooding INCEL you could ask for.” Hanna started to crack herself up at the word 'incel' and built a crescendo of hyena cackling towards the end of the sentence. The internet and the Chat had found its perfect bridge into the real world through Hanna. “Fuck, sorry,” she tried to say through loss of breath and strained laughing chimes, putting her drink down on the bar counter and covering her mouth with the other hand. “That word is so fucking funny--” she managed to say just at the base of catching a panicky inhalation. “INCEL--holy shit!” The words barely made sense before Hanna burst into uncontrollably violent laughter again. The bartender simply stood there and stared at them while Hanna clung onto Ivy so as to not fall. It was embarrassing and funny all at the same time. Some random people around them sort of smirked at Hanna's laughter, but they really had no idea what had been said that was so funny. The others at the Ritman table would probably be able to hear Hanna's shrieking noises, unless they were busy trying to kill each other. Hanna sincerely tried to stop, however. She forced herself to take deep breaths and interrupt the laughter while minding her teary eyes, so as to not ruin the paint. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO Wii p. johnson's [restrooms] ▸ p. johnson's [bar] interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

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Ivy's visage dipped a tad every now and then as she spoke. Hanna gently put her pinky finger underneath the gal's chin each time to readjust into the awful light in the bathroom. Ivory's musings were a lot more profound or perhaps self-aware than they used to be. She did tumble down into these criticisms of herself back at Ritman, as well, but not to this extent. Hanna's eyes occasionally sailed between focus on the craft and Ivy's eyes, whenever things dipped into ranting. "Being a bit harsh on yourself there, babe," Hanna thought, but she did not say anything. Letting out steam was the best thing that could happen right now. There was no way that Hanna could manage the whole team by herself if Ivy was going to carry thins kind of shit around on her shoulders -- Hanna needed Ivy just as much as Ivy needed Hanna. “Hey... don't be like that. You didn't fail anyone back then--” Hanna briefly stopped what she was doing, resting her arms by her sides. “Do you even know the kind of 'light in the darkness' that you were to some people? No, you don't, because those kinds of people never talk about it directly to the person, but they spoke to me and I know--” Hanna's voice became slightly strained, almost annoyed, but she brushed it off and continued with the cosmetics. “You were such an inspiration to so many people, babe. You really have to take that in when I say it--” Hanna interrupted herself mid-sentence again: “--and don't even get me started on 'helping' people. Most people don't want any fucking help, seriously. That's, like, THE one thing I've learned from having to deal with these fashion types in NYC. They're so far up their own asses with ego and problems that they're not looking for solutions, they thrive on that shit. And if you think I talk a lot, these motherfuckers literally talk non-stop. Can you imagine that? Someone that talks more than me? That's how bad it is. And then there's the complete opposite, the zombies. They never talk and never listen, so you can't help them either. So, you have to be happy in your own boat and just keep sailing the way you want to, first. And then, after a while, these people will open up to you because you are a sense of comfort, and BOOM -- they're all of a sudden open to anything you have to say. Besides, everybody out there knew full well who could possibly show up tonight, but they came anyway.” They concluded their little back and forth, and then remained silent for just a brief moment as Hanna did her thing. “There she is -- Poison Ivy herself.” Hanna cracked a genuine smirk at the calories jab. It was fairly easy to tell the difference between Hanna's real and 'fake' smiles. Or, well, calling them 'fake' did not do it justice. They were just trained in the same way that all media types train certain facial expressions to make it look good for camera. If Hanna's upper lip was folded outwards with a full, straight row of upper teeth showing, then it was a 'fake' smile. A genuine expression was less symmetrical, upper lip folded inward, and with more pronounced smile dimples in the cheeks. And then, there was a little something-something that happened in the beaut before her. It was subtle, no verbal indication, but the eyes spoke to such volumes that it could flood P. Johnson's ten times over. It was completely alien to Hanna and had never happened during their years at Ritman together. Hanna's facial expression sort of instantly relaxed to a default state, although raising both eyebrows to their absolute peak, stopping all movements. “Oh, weak in the knees are we?” Hanna said with pure instinct, no filtering inside her head at all, but following it all up by relaxing her frame, continuing with the cosmetics, and throwing a sensual smile in there to tease Ivy. “I can smudge lipsticks all night long, you know that.” Hanna had been quite transparent with her own sexuality even back then, but it had also never been a huge thing for her or super central to her identity -- it was just a natural thing, and that was the end of it. "Holy shit, you are so fucking cringe. You shouldn't have said the 'make out' part in the first place, dumb ass bitch." Her mind scolded itself. “Yup, all done!” Hanna said with a chipper tone, proud of her glowing work on Ivy's face. “I'd like to thank the Academy for this amazing award--” Hanna fired up with a silly voice. “For me--”, flamboyantly putting both hands on her chest, gazing at the non-existent horizon, sporting the fakest smile she could muster, “--Hanna Whittle, who, unlike miss Williams here, actually knows how to use basic paint and colors--” she continued by poking fun at cosmetics in general and sarcastically implying that Ivy had no clue how to properly use it. “Thank you so much,” she concluded with a faint sniffling sound, holding a ghostly award in her hands, throwing kisses from her hands into the void of some imaginary crowd. Hanna must have come off as batshit insane to any stranger walking in, but it would hopefully relax Ivy a little bit before getting back into the fray. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO すてきな p. johnson's [restrooms] interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

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The waiter did their best to keep up with the incoming desires for more. Anni had the right idea of just going big right away with something for the whole table. However, Hanna was still locked in on that burger even if Pizza was really pulling at her temptations -- she would probably have a taste or even a whole slice, anyway. “Oh yeah, plain cheese just like the McCallister kid”. Hanna followed up in Anni's heels with another Home Alone reference, although this time said out loud instead of lingering in her head. The server noted Ivy's request in addition to the food, and perhaps whatever the others wanted to get, and then they were off. “How about that? Nobody remembers shit,” Hanna chuckled after listening to what Lucas had to say about the matter, being in a similar situation as herself. Things happening around the table sort of bled into each other, like a mushy goo of events, which played a few tricks on Hanna's senses in maddening collaboration with the alcohol. While still having her attention on Lucas, a watchful eye on CJ and Anni, Ivory excused herself and trotted off to the bathroom. "What the fuck just happened?" Her mind took off like a rocket into space. She did not quite catch Ivy's demeanor before the girl had already disappeared, which left Hanna slightly paranoid. “I'm going to get another drink from that nice man at the bar -- back in like 2 seconds.” Hanna said to excuse herself for a moment, although keeping that smile on her face. Luckily, she was wearing sneakers instead of heels. She did not want to make anyone uncomfortable by towering at 5'11-something as she did when clacking around in those things. Wearing regular shoes made nights of alcohol manageable and walks of shame less of thing -- at least, that is what it felt like. Hanna made it to the bar and caught eye contact with that same bartender that recognized her from the streams. She held the empty glass up a little bit over the crowd, tapped on it, and indicated a refill with her index finger. However, she also gestured that she was headed for the bathroom, and that she would be back. The bartender nodded to show that he understood. Hanna silently flowed along the well decorated hallway leading to the restrooms, making a soft entrance. The music in the background turned into that muffled kind of bassy sound, as if someone had put a filter on it and cut all the high frequencies off. Hanna found Ivy musing in front of the mirror covering one of the walls, a few sinks being available underneath it. She slowly slunk into view, so as not to startle Ivy, and then came closer to the gal from behind at a slight angle. Hanna crouched forward just a little bit, or perhaps squatted a tad, and rested her chin against one of Ivy's shoulders, smiling at the gal in the reflection of the mirror. “I can do it if you want,” Hanna said, indicating at the cosmetics. Hanna had always put her face on for as long as she could remember, but it had not been until the influencer thing that she had taken an interest in the artsy side of it. Since then, she had become quite adept at it, but nowhere near as good as some in the fashion industry. Hanna shifted around Ivy and leaned against the sink, mirror now at her back, carefully applying everything that Ivy wanted to redo -- even if starting over with the face like this in the bathroom of some rinky-dink bar was a bit extreme. “I realize that we haven't seen each other for a minute, but you are still pretty obvious to me, you know. This wasn't a bad idea, if that's what you think. They just need some time out there. A little food, a few drinks, and everyone will be totally Gucci and ready to open that capsule. And then, we'll celebrate with a few more drinks to get shitfaced. And then, we'll make out for a bit and pass out somewhere,” she said with a playfully teasing wink. “And then, tomorrow, we'll go shopping in Portland -- it'll be the best time.” Hanna smiled. She had not been this excited and happy for a while, even if the streams and interacting with the Chat was pretty close. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO すてきな p. johnson's [ritman table] ▸ [restrooms] interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

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Ivy lingered for a second. It was long enough for Hanna to notice and snap out of her little act with a cheeky attitude. "Huh, what's the matter?" She thought, returning Ivy's musings before they were both interrupted by Jack. Whatever that was, it was certainly a footnote to keep track of going forward. The thought of having done something or said something to Ivy that had put a dent in their friendship since Ritman worried Hanna for a second. Or, maybe it was something else entirely. Hanna chuckled at the Molly Ringwald comparison. She had never been to detention before, but that was probably not the point. Anni's thing sounded cute, though. Hanna sort of wished that is what she had put into the capsule. But, fearing the worst, she probably put something stupid in there like a pair of earrings, mascara, or some other shit that had sentimental value she had long forgotten about-- "CJ..." Hanna muttered underneath her breath, layering herself with Ivy's response, as a reaction to the 'nothing matters' comment. As the waiter approached, Hanna discreetly snagged the menu at their table. She quickly skimmed through the sections to the burgers, which, as suspected, had a juicy cheeseburger with Hanna's name written all over it. The waiter took note of Ivy's request for a refill and put the order into the tablet thingy she was carrying. “Can I get number 24? And some fries with it?” Hanna said while the rest of the group kept going with the capsule conversation. The waiter nodded and put the order down. “Oh, also, everything at this table is for my tab -- Hanna Whittle, which includes the girl here that wanted a refill.” Hanna indicated to Ivy, which the waiter had already figured out. “Guys, get something while the waiter is here,” she casually continued, fleetingly, so as to not interrupt the flow of the conversation but still make herself heard. Hanna let go of the menu to the center of the table if there was someone else that wanted to look at it, listening to what CJ had to say. “CJ!” Hanna exclaimed, somewhat chuckling but controlling her demeanor at the same time, eyes rapidly jumping back and forth between Lucas and the blonde. “You can't just, like, mention someone's religion like that -- what tha Faackh.” She let out another snort sound while cracking herself up with a sort of breath-mixed laughter, and chucking the rest of her drink. It was clearly the alcohol talking and completely missing the point of everything. This was Hanna's biggest problem when becoming tipsy -- everything became funny. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO drive by p. johnson's [ritman table] interacting with: CJ/@TGM ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

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Hanna would lie if she denied getting a tiny rush of feel-good after Anni's acknowledgment. A genuine smirk forced itself onto the corner of Hanna's lips along with a modest wink thrown in Anni's direction -- an 'anytime, honey' kind of indication. And then, there was Ivy's toast with a bunch of questions crammed into it by herself and Lucas. CJ had returned along with half the food on the menu, which, incidentally, was exactly what Hanna hoped that all of them would do. However, Hanna did devote some of her attention to how things played out between CJ and Anni -- just in case. The time capsule idea that Ivy had was terrific. Hanna gently bobbed up and down in her seat, rapidly but softly clapping her hands, and grinning like a dummy in excitement, letting out one of those snoring sounds as she laughed softly. “Oh, shit.” She quickly covered her mouth with both hands, eyes squinting in silent laughter at herself. Although, she recovered most ricky-tick so as to not interrupt Ivy. Hanna's mind wandered back to that day with the time capsule. "What did I actually put in there? Fuck, I can't remember. This is what you get for being such a sperg all the time, BANANA." She thought. Hanna snapped back to reality when Ivy slapped her in the face with the Burn Book. That thing had been such a scourge back at Ritman that it was this never-ending meme in and of itself. They still do not know who actually created it in the first place, but it certainly came out of Natalie Miller's corner of the world, and the plastics. Hanna had helped Ivy to tackle that thing multiple times because it definitely caused several incidents between students and even teachers -- what a fucking nightmare. “You're such a skank, babe. Completely reckless and out of control--” Hanna retorted with a devious smirk on her lips, describing the beaut as the polar opposite of her personality traits, as a tease. “--I don't remember what I put in there, so it'll be a nice surprise for everyone,” she said, straightening her spine where she sat, taking another sip of her drink, keeping eye contact with Ivy, being generally sassy. It was difficult to tell if Hanna was coming down from the adrenaline-induced nervosity of the reunion or if it was just the alcohol. Either way, she was swiftly becoming more loose by the second. Hanna eyed CJ's burger and instantly fell hungry. "Fuuuuck, I need something real quick," her stomach thought for her. Even the possibility of hanving breadsticks was good enough at this point. With her eyes, Hanna momentarily sought the attention of a server that could possibly accommodate her needs at this time. When one of them seemingly caught Hanna's starved look, they readied some tiny machine with a touch-screen and began to walk over to the Ritman Reunion table. All of this happened in a few fleeting seconds. Hanna's attention returned to the ragtag group by her side without much notice of having been gone. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO drive by p. johnson's ▸ ? interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde Anni/@Kuro ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔