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A Little Weasel

STATUS: Starting to get that awful jaded feeling =/ 2 days ago
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Recent Statuses

2 days ago
Current Starting to get that awful jaded feeling =/
1 like
2 mos ago
Kinda tempted to try a 1x1 RP but never did one before.
4 likes
2 mos ago
Nonetheless, the pressure of being almost like the original probably doesn't help with this either. This can be seen with Katara's bland and confusing portrayal.
2 mos ago
That's not to say that the live adaptation succeeds in this either, as they give opposing themes at the start and at the end of the season.
2 mos ago
Possible hot take: I think the main reason why a lot of people didn't enjoy Avatar's live adaptation is because they expect it to be exactly like the cartoon instead of it's own consistent story.
2 likes

Bio

Hi, Qia here <3. I'm a gamer and RP fan just looking to have a good time.

Most Recent Posts

In Ju-V → 22 hrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


As Natsumi nodded in agreement, Sophia rose from her bed, a mix of trepidation and anticipation filling her. Together, they made their way out of their room, joining the others as they walked towards the cafeteria. The halls echoed with the nervous murmur of students, their apprehension mirroring Sophia’s inner turmoil. Had she perhaps done something thoughtless back there? She couldn’t stop her mind from replaying everything she’d said. Why had she put her parents in such a negative light, at all?

Sophia knew she was the sole reason for her presence here, through and through. She was the sole reason that she wasn’t normal.

As Sophia entered the bustling cafeteria, her gaze scanned the crowd, taking note of the diverse faces she saw. Among them, she even spotted Haven in the lineup ahead. The urge to chat her up again tugged at the blonde, but she hesitated, fearing she might be an unwelcome interruption. Besides, she found her eyes following an interesting sight of an…

Is that an otter!?

Sophia’s mouth hung open in utter shock before melding into an expression of confusion. How had she not sensed the creature? And it was strange. The more Sophia looked at it, the more she was sure he or she or it wasn’t what she thought it was. Unlike her other animal companions back home, there was an eerie absence of any emotional resonance. This otter also carried itself with a purpose, its sleek form gliding effortlessly through the bustling cafeteria. And then there was the tray—a detail that defied all otter norms.

Sophia had never seen an otter serve itself food before.

The temptation to approach him/her/it gnawed at her, but she reigned it in, remembering her manners. Instead, she tore her gaze away, grabbing a tray and joining the line for food, her mind still churning. Did she really want to repeat the same mistakes she’d made before, anyway? Surely, the normal thing would be to prefer talking to someone human like her here.

With a sigh, Sophia turned her attention to the food on offer. The server’s question pulled her from her reverie, and without hesitation, she opted for the vegetarian choice. She wasn’t down to change everything about herself here, after all.

Navigating through the maze of tables, the blonde settled into a seat that offered a balance of proximity and solitude. The faces nearby were familiar—echoes of similar conversation from the rec room—but right now, they were just faces, nothing more. Her social reserves were depleted, the day’s events having drawn heavily upon her introverted spirit.

Sophia’s fingers hovered over her meal, the vibrant colours of the vegetables stark against the white of her plate, yet her appetite was lost to contemplation. Her thoughts circled back to the otter, an unexpected aberration in the academy’s structured environment. It had drawn curious looks from her peers, its odd behaviour a ripple in the otherwise still waters of their routine.

But to Sophia, the otter was more than just a curiosity; it was a gentle nudge from the universe—a reminder that not every mystery required an immediate solution. There was wisdom in the patience of observation, in the quiet acceptance that some things simply were. And yet, despite this understanding, a part of her yearned for the tactile connection, the soft fur beneath her fingertips, the physical affirmation of the otter’s reality.

Her desire to reach out and touch the creature was a tangible echo of her longing to connect with the parts of her world that remained just out of reach. It was a silent battle between her disciplined restraint and the raw, instinctual pull toward the warmth of a familiar life that the otter represented.

Sophia’s gaze drifted across the cafeteria, momentarily catching on a solitary figure at another table near to hers- his presence a mirror to her own. She felt a kinship with him then, yet-

With a soft exhale, Sophia turned her attention back to her plate, finally lifting her fork. The act was one of self-promise—a vow to honour the delicate balance between her previous life and the current one that buzzed around her. For now, she would savour the simplicity of her meal, because sometimes, it was enough to simply be.


In ♆ ​🇴​​🇨​​🇪​​🇦​​🇳​​🇺​​🇸​ ​🇭​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​ | 🇼​​🇦​​🇻​​🇪​ ​🇷​​🇺​​🇳​​🇳​​🇪​​🇷​​🇸​ → 1 day ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


In ♆ ​🇴​​🇨​​🇪​​🇦​​🇳​​🇺​​🇸​ ​🇭​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​ | 🇼​​🇦​​🇻​​🇪​ ​🇷​​🇺​​🇳​​🇳​​🇪​​🇷​​🇸​ → 1 day ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
My busybody archetype continues <3



In ♆ ​🇴​​🇨​​🇪​​🇦​​🇳​​🇺​​🇸​ ​🇭​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​ | 🇼​​🇦​​🇻​​🇪​ ​🇷​​🇺​​🇳​​🇳​​🇪​​🇷​​🇸​ → 1 day ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Qia Hello there..! First of all, love the pfp and siggy set!

Secondly, we are accepting still. I will send you a PM with the discord link so you can join us, love ツ


Thank you so much :3!
In ♆ ​🇴​​🇨​​🇪​​🇦​​🇳​​🇺​​🇸​ ​🇭​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​ | 🇼​​🇦​​🇻​​🇪​ ​🇷​​🇺​​🇳​​🇳​​🇪​​🇷​​🇸​ → 2 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Hello, just read through the first post. Do you need an invite for this? Just to clear up my confusion. :)
In Realms of Sun & Shadow → 3 days ago Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
Sounds interesting :)
In Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP → 5 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Southern Plateau - Pacific Royal Campus
Welcome Home #1.065: Target Sighted
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s):Katja-@Zoldyck,Gill-@Roman
Previously: The Burden With Dreams


As Katja and Harper set off from the dorms, it quickly became apparent that her bulky friend might possess a hidden talent for foresight, for Harper found herself trailing in the wake of the blonde’s swift strides. The distance between them grew, despite Harper’s determined efforts, and with each passing second, the inevitability of Katja’s victory became clearer the closer the two got to the Minotaur.

After crossing their imagined finish line, Harper, panting and trying to catch her breath, fought to keep her competitive spirit in check. The urge to let disappointment show was strong—after all, she shared Katja’s distaste for defeat. Yet, in the face of Katja’s exuberant cheer, Harper managed a smile, albeit a slightly strained one.

At least there was no longer a focus on their previous discussion. The other girl had thankfully taken the bait.

“Nice one. But next time I’m setting some terms,”Harper managed to say between breaths, her tone light, conceding this round but already plotting the next for another time.



As the group arrived at their destination, the sun had climbed to its peak, casting a radiant glow over the grounds below. Harper, now donned in athletic gear, was the epitome of preparedness for the day’s events. Her ensemble, a pair of breezy running shorts paired with a moisture-wicking tee, was meticulously chosen to combat the midday heat. A lightweight pullover was knotted around her waist as well, just in case she needed a shield from an unexpected chill that was so common on Canadian soil. Her immaculate white sneakers, now the focus of her attention, were being laced up meticulously as she stretched her legs, easing the stiffness from the journey.

With her sneakers laced snugly, Harper allowed her attention to sweep over the grand vista that stretched out from the plateau’s brink. The edge served as a threshold to a majestic view, where the earth tenderly sloped down to meet the sea’s embrace. Below, the ocean’s waves danced rhythmically against the jagged shoreline, each surge catching and refracting the sunlight in a brilliant spectacle. The distant mountains, shrouded in a cloak of mist, stood as silent custodians over the peaceful expanse unfurling beneath them. The plateau, overall, seemed a bastion of serenity, its air pure and invigorating—a stark contrast to the relentless pace and pressures of Harper’s current life at school.

Here, the world seemed to pause, the only sounds being the symphony of crashing waves and the whisper of the sea breeze. Harper’s heart matched the tranquil cadence, her worries dissolving into the ether, replaced by a newfound sense of peace and clarity.

“Perfect,”she whispered to herself, a sense of contentment washing over her as she ventured deeper into the campsite with the others. Harper’s eyes soon found a familiar silhouette, marked by light brown hair and distinctive wings—a sight that brought an involuntary, albeit awkward, smile to her lips. It was Haven, and despite their recent encounter, the warmth of recognition was undeniable. Harper could sense a mutual understanding in Haven’s returned gesture, a silent acknowledgment of shared sentiments.

She still hadn’t quite figured out how to address her new concerns to her. If anything, if she were to be more honest with herself, she was delaying the whole thing.

"Grab a tent, guys. We meet up with Tad and the trial's build organizer once you're ready."

Heeding Haven’s instruction, Harper approached a tent nestled among its twins, its canvas flaps beckoning. She deposited her backpack, a treasure trove of essentials and personal items to be sorted later. But there was a pressing matter at hand, one that seemed trivial to others but monumental to her—a choice of a bunkmate.

The previous year, the decision had been practically made for her. Aurora, with her easy smile and open nature, had offered to share her space. It was an act of kindness that had blossomed into a friendship, born from whispered confidences and shared laughter in the quiet of the night. Harper had been compelled to interact, to engage in a way that was foreign to her then.

Reflecting on those days, she marvelled at the transformation within herself. The introversion that once cloaked her like a second skin had shed, revealing a more assertive, self-assured individual. The change was profound, and as she stood there, contemplating her next move, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in the person she had become.

What’s more, were the other friendships she’d managed to develop throughout her starting year with so many different personality types. From the ever-naive and clumsy Lorcán to the simple-minded but kind-hearted Rory.

As if summoned by her musings, Rory’s voice sliced through her reverie, his words a blend of cheekiness and innocence that was his trademark. The question out of his mouth though, which was directed at her winged teammate, was audacious enough to paint Harper’s cheeks with a shade of crimson.

"So, Barnes... you want to sleep together tonight?"

Rory’s words, brazen and unfiltered, floated in the air, turning heads and drawing a spectrum of reactions, including her own.

Harper’s eyes, now sharp as a hawk’s, turned to Haven, eager to gauge her response. Initially, shock registered on Haven’s face, her eyebrows arching high in a mix of astonishment and bewilderment. It was the kind of boldness that, broadcasted so openly, could stir a buzz of whispers. Yet, as moments passed, Haven’s expression morphed—first to understanding, then to a poised confidence. A smile, subtle but undeniable, played upon her lips.

Harper was now very intrigued. There was a nuance she had overlooked, a subtext she hadn’t deciphered. Though she couldn’t catch Haven’s reply as she allowed her ability to fade, and her principles simply forbade her from lip-reading with them, it was clear Haven wasn’t perturbed by Rory’s daring proposition.

Harper honestly admired the unguarded honesty between the both of them, their bravery in expressing emotions so openly unfamiliar to her. She yearned to muster the same courage to reveal her feelings one day. Instinctively, her gaze searched for Gil—or rather, the three iterations of him. The trio of Gils, two of them a clone with the same capacity for thought and emotion, were deep in discussion, likely dissecting the recent bold exchange.

The three Gils, identical yet distinct, had always been a source of fascination for Harper. She had kept it to herself, but even with her sharp eyesight, telling them apart was a puzzle she hadn’t quite solved. Perhaps, she mused, it was the blinding effect of Gil’s striking features that had clouded her analytical gaze that one time she had tried, driven by curiosity.

Harper’s heart skipped with the thrill of the unknown as she contemplated joining their conversation, sharing her feelings with the same openness Rory had. It was a daunting thought, but the urge to be transparent with her affection was undeniable. She found herself drawn towards the Gils, her feet moving of their own accord, only to be abruptly halted by a robust Australian shout.

"Oi! Tyler! Move your bloody tent!"

The command, laced with the distinctive twang of the Outback, jolted Harper from her thoughts. Her hands instinctively rose to shield her ears, and a frown etched itself across her features. Banjo’s boisterous interruption was ill-timed, and Harper couldn’t help but think,Did he always have to steal the spotlight? The urge to deliver a swift kick to his shins was a tempting thought too, especially since he had so rudely intruded on Rory and Haven’s intimate exchange.

Harper’s irritation was a simmering undercurrent, but she managed to quell the impulse, recognizing that her actions should be driven by composure, not frustration. With a deep breath, she refocused on her initial intent, allowing the momentary disruption to fade into the background. There were more pressing matters at hand—matters of the heart.

Harper approached the Gils with a casual grace, her hand lifting in a reserved wave that masked the flutter of excitement within her. A silent mantra played in her mind, a reminder to maintain composure and not succumb to the giddy impulses of a fangirl.

Right…what would the usual poised version of herself say at a time like this that still got her intentions across?

Harper steadied her nerves as the collective gaze of the Gils settled on her, a trio of expectant stares that could easily unnerve.“So…”she ventured, her voice a careful blend of nonchalance and mischief,"I’m considering a play from Rory’s handbook… touché?”The smirk that played on her lips then was both a shield and a signal.“Respectfully,” she hastened to add, the smirk now blossoming into a full-fledged grin. A moment lingered, heavy with anticipation, before she delivered the punchline, “In separate cots, of course. For decency’s sake.”



In Ju-V → 7 days ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
I'm definitely still invested!

I'm looking forward to getting this back on track.


Sameee here :) But you already knew that.
In Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP → 8 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Mess Hall - Pacific Royal Campus
Welcome Home #1.054: The Burden With Dreams
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s):N/A
Previously: Maybe She Likes Her Illusions


As the flying figure of Haven disappeared into the distance, Harper’s initial burst of confidence began to fade away. The encouraging smile she had given to her teammate gradually vanished from her face as the weight of her words and their implications began to sink in. The frustration that had been building up within her - from Haven’s behaviour, from the moment she was told her dreams were just meant to be that - came back all at once, almost knocking the air out of her lungs. She leaned against the wall of the stadium for support, her breaths ragged and uneven. The weight of her decision, the things she’d said so confidently before, pressed down on her chest, threatening to crush her spirit.

What the hell had she been thinking?

Did she truly believe that they could take on one of the representatives of the Foundation? Did she forget that their unnerving teammate had come from that very place? And to make matters worse, she was relying on Banjo of all people to execute their plan. Was she so desperate to prove her point, to get what she wanted, that she was willing to put her teammates in harm’s way?

The bitter chuckle that escaped Harper’s lips surprised even herself. She clenched her head in her hands, her body shaking with uncontrollable laughter as her legs lost their strength and sank to the floor. When the tears came streaming down her face, she bent her head into the crook of her arms, torn between hiding her pride, shame, or anguish.

“But no matter what,”Amma’s words echoed in her mind, “this world will never accept you. They won’t forget. They haven’t forgotten. I doubt they will ever forgive.”

What had Harper seen in those brown eyes that day? Had it been fear or something more?

Like hate?



In Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University RP → 13 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
One Week Before The Start Of The Semester

Harper leaned her back against the rough brick wall of the poorly lit alley, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could feel it. The uncertain glow from her phone's screen cast an eerie light across her face, revealing the furrow in her brow and the tremor in her fingers. She was wearing a well-worn hoodie and comfortable sweatpants, but she felt out of place in the eerie atmosphere of the alley. Shouldn't she have been comforted by this feeling? When had she ever felt like she belonged somewhere, anyway? Before P.R.C.U., that is.

The message displayed on her phone's screen was stark against the darkness and seemed to carry a weight that threatened to pull her into the abyss. It read, "Meet me tonight. 9 pm. The Driftwood. Come alone!" The words had been etched into her mind by this point, a haunting refrain that she couldn't shake.

As Harper looked up at the flickering streetlamp above her, she couldn't help but feel like it was mirroring her inner turmoil. Its light danced across her features, emphasizing her uncertainty and fear. She wondered why she had been asked to come to The Driftwood after all this time.

What did Sierra want? What was so important that she had insisted on Harper coming alone?

As the brunette stood there, staring blankly at her phone, her mind drifted back to the last time she had seen her sister. It had been an argument that had spiralled out of control and had ended with harsh words and slammed doors. It had been months- no years- since they had truly spoken to one another, and the memory of that bitter fight weighed heavily on her heart.

Harper carefully slipped her phone into her pocket, taking a deep breath as she prepared to face what was waiting for her. As she entered the bar, the air was thick with the lingering scents of countless nights of revelry. The smell of stale beer mixed with the aroma of aged whiskey, creating a unique, unmistakable blend. The ghosts of patrons who had long since passed away seemed to linger in the air, adding to the heavy atmosphere of the place.

The dim lighting cast a sepia-toned filter over everything, as if time had mellowed within these walls. The bulbs above flickered restlessly, their filaments dancing like restless spirits. Harper's footsteps echoed softly against the creaking wood as she followed the path that led her across decades of stories. Each scuff, each groove held a secret - a whispered confession or a desperate plea. The floorboards bore the weight of countless souls, all seeking solace in the bottom of a glass. Their collective memories seeped into the grain, etching invisible lines of connection that were impossible to ignore.

Following her own invisible line of connection towards the back of the bar, Harper's eyes were drawn to Sierra's hair first. It was a vibrant red, a stark contrast to the familiar brunette that she was used to seeing. The colour screamed rebellion and defiance, leaving Harper to wonder at the reason behind the sudden change. Was it Sierra's attempt to distance herself from her? A bright red would definitely accomplish that if that was the case. Her black leather jacket over a fitted graphic tee, ripped jeans, and combat boots only further emphasized her new rebellious spirit. Harper couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as she looked at her, knowing that things from now on would never be the same again.

Sierra lifted her sharp brown eyes from the drink before her. The dim light of The Driftwood cast shadows across her features, emphasizing the curve of her lips - a smirk that danced on the precipice of mockery.

"Well, if it isn't my baby sister," Sierra drawled, her voice a blend of familiarity and tension. The years apart had etched lines on her face, but she remained the beauty the brunette had always thought she was.

Harper eased into the worn wooden chair opposite her, her spine straight, her gaze steady.

“It’s been a while,” Harper echoed, her words a bridge spanning the abyss. Sierra’s smirk widened, revealing a hint of teeth.

“What do you want?” Harper finally asked. The Driftwood seemed to hold its breath, its walls absorbing their history. Sierra leaned back, her eyes assessing, calculating.

“Closure,” the redhead replied, her gaze unyielding. “Answers.” Harper’s guard remained intact, but curiosity gnawed at her at this.

“Answers for what?”

"Answers," Sierra repeated, enunciating each syllable as if the word held power all its own. "About that night. About what really happened to you." Her gaze bore into Harper's, daring her to break the silence.

Harper blinked, taken aback by Sierra's intensity. The night Sierra had discovered Harper's abilities was one neither of them could forget, though they'd both tried. It had been the catalyst for their estrangement, and the thought of revisiting it now sent a chill down Harper's spine.

"And what do you think you'll gain from dredging up the past, exactly?” she asked, her voice taut with suppressed emotion.

Sierra's expression hardened. "Closure," she said again, the word hanging in the air like a spectre. "And maybe, just maybe, a chance to move forward. To understand what happened to you... to us."

Harper leaned back in her chair, folding her arms, unable to hold back her glare.
“I don’t know…I think I got a pretty good understanding of what happened.”

Sierra matched Harper's glare, her voice dropping to a low, intense whisper. "Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you've been running from it. From me. From everything we once were."

Sierra’s words seemed to strike a nerve, and Harper's gaze faltered momentarily before she regained her composure. "I didn't run,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered ever so slightly. "I just... it wasn’t safe for me anymore without the control that I have now. And besides I needed to find my own path. To figure out who I was without-“

"Without me?" Sierra interjected, her eyes blazing. “We were supposed to be in this together, Harper. We were supposed to have each other's backs, always! Especially since…”

Harper recoiled as if physically struck, her breath catching in her throat.

"Don't you dare bring them up,” she hissed. “You know we can't change what happened. And I can't... I can't deal with that right now. There’s too many things now to worry about.”

Sierra's eyes narrowed. "You're not getting it. This isn't just about them, Harper. This is about us, about our family. And if we don't confront our demons, they'll keep haunting us, no matter how many 'things' you try to bury them under."

Harper's fists clenched as she fought to maintain control. "What do you want from me, Si? What do you want me to say?”

Sierra's voice softened. “I want the truth, Harps. I want us to face our past together, so we can finally move forward…. So we can be sisters again.”

Her gaze dropped to the table as she reached out, hesitantly resting her hand on Harper's. Harper tensed, feeling the weight of Sierra's touch like an anchor, keeping her tethered to a past she'd tried so hard to escape. Despite the urge to pull away, she remained still, willing herself to hear Sierra out.

“You’re in your last year, right?” Sierra continued, attempting a more casual conversation. "Time sure flies, huh? Have you decided what you want to do once you graduate?”

Harper’s guarded nod betrayed her wariness. The sudden shift in conversation felt like a gust of wind threatening to topple her carefully constructed walls. “Yeah,” she replied, her voice measured. “It’s been intense—exams, late nights, and some self-discovery, I suppose. But it’s helped me grow in ways I never thought possible.”

Sierra’s gaze softened in response. “You’ve come a long way,” she murmured. “From that little girl who used to hide in the closet during thunderstorms.”

Harper’s lips twitched. “I had a flashlight and a stack of comic books in there. It was practically my fortress.”

“And I was your knight,” Sierra teased. “Ready to slay imaginary dragons.”

The years apart—the chasm carved by grief and secrets—loomed between them. Sierra’s other hand rested on the table now, a bridge waiting to be crossed. “But you know,” she continued, her voice barely audible, “no matter how much you grow or how far you go, you’ll always be my baby sister, right?”

Harper’s gaze fell to that hand—the same hand that once wiped away tears, braided her hair, and held her secrets. Love and resentment swirled within her, a tempest threatening to spill over. “I know,” she whispered. “But sometimes… sometimes growing up means facing things you never thought you’d have to.”

Harper's heart skipped a beat as Sierra stayed silent, her gaze fixed on Harper's face. She looked at her sister, trying to read her expression, but Sierra's face was inscrutable. Harper fidgeted nervously, her patience wearing thin. She was about to ask Sierra what was wrong when she finally spoke up in a quivering voice.

"Harper," Sierra began, "Mom and Dad…they didn’t die in an accident. Everything you think you know… isn’t always how it seems.”

Harper's breathing faltered as the words lingered in the heavy, humid Carolina air. She had reluctantly agreed to this meeting, hoping for closure, not revelations.

So what the hell was this?


| 0750 hrs // University Dorms

Things were so much easier back then.

Harper ran her fingers over the edges of the photograph, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The picture showed her and her sister when they were young and carefree, captured in one of her fondest childhood memories. They were around 5 and 9 years old and it was taken in Harper's bedroom closet, which had been her secret hiding place. She remembered the joy of that moment, giggling with Sierra as they made the best of the stormy night. It was around this time that she had been introduced to graphic novels, and the picture reminded her of a time when everything felt perfect. She cherished it dearly.

With a sense of longing and nostalgia, Harper let out a deep sigh and slowly closed the photo album that she had been flipping through for what seemed like hours. The memories captured in those faded, yellowed pages had transported her back to a time when life was simpler, happier, and full of promise. But now, as she gazed at the blank walls of her dorm room, she knew she had to face reality and get ready to leave for her first day.

As Harper pushed herself out of bed, she couldn't help but think about the events of the previous day. Her mind was still muddled by the strange turn of events that had left her feeling off-balance and unsure of herself. She couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss, but couldn't quite put her finger on it.

The brunette glanced at the clock on her nightstand, surprised to see that it was much later than she had anticipated. She had never been one to be tardy, but yesterday's events had thrown her routine completely off balance it seemed. It was as if the world had shifted just a little bit and she was struggling to find her footing again.

Upon glancing at her reflection in the mirror, Harper quickly checked her appearance. She’d already put her hair in its usual low ponytail. Her white dress shirt looked crisp and neatly tucked into her black slacks. The black blazer she wore was also immaculate, but as her eyes shifted towards the P.R.C.U. emblem on the blazer's pocket, a frown crept onto her face. Despite her impeccable appearance, the emblem served as a reminder of her allegiance to the organization that she was currently having mixed feelings about.

Harper couldn't shake off the impact of Amma's statement, which had struck a chord with her. She couldn't help but admit that there was a certain truth to the idea that this place was, in some sense, both a prison and a refuge for individuals like Amma and herself. Despite Gil's attempts to retain some of the joy that Amma had managed to puncture out of their ballooning dreams, it was too late. Everyone else's expressions had already betrayed their disappointment.

For Harper, the realization that she agreed with her oddball teammate was a bit… unsettling. She couldn't help but feel a sense of self-loathing for agreeing with her - even if it was just a tiny bit.

Harper gently pinched her cheeks with her fingertips to snap herself out of the distracted state. She noticed that her usually rosy fair skin lacked its natural glow. To fix this, she pinched her cheeks a little harder, creating a natural flush that complemented her features, especially her freckles. After admiring her handy work, she put on comfortable black flats and left the dorm.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Mess Hall - Pacific Royal Campus
Welcome Home #1.044: Maybe She Likes Her Illusions
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): Haven- @Skai
Previously: Dreams


Once Harper finally arrived at the Mess Hall, she’d managed to join the tail end of the line of the Blackjack members already there, breathing a sigh of relief—her heart going back to its regular pace from the run she’d had to do to get here right on time. She sidled past a few of them, trying desperately to catch up to her second favourite—tied with Katja (and don’t ever ask her to choose between the two)—girly of the team: Haven.

Once she did, Harper hooked her arm in Haven’s with a smile and a whispered “Hello. Missed you this morning!” before sitting beside her winged friend.

When a loud voice boomed through the speakers, Harper's attention was immediately drawn to the stage. As she fixed her gaze on the platform, she observed the Canadian anthem being played with great interest, although she still couldn't sing along to all of it. As the anthem ended, a colourful parade of flags followed, adding to the patriotic atmosphere of the event. "How noble of you, P.R.C.U.," she thought, before taking her seat along with everyone else.

As the ceremony progressed in its usual fashion, Harper's attention was mostly focused on the speaker's words. However, her ears pricked up when the Chancellor made a significant announcement - the school's new guests for the year were none other than The Foundation.

The brunette couldn’t help but search for Amma among the members at their mention, but she couldn’t spot her from where she was. She wondered what her reaction would be…to seeing some of her old friends.

“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.”

Harper's heart sank as the weight of the announcement hit her. She could feel her stomach already starting to knot with anxiety and disappointment.

“WHAT?” she said loudly, though her voice was drowned out by the cacophony of shocked murmurs and protests from the gathered students.

Harper was deeply shaken by the news that had just been announced. "How could this happen?" she thought to herself, still struggling to process the implications of what she had heard. It was clear from the expressions on her peers' faces that they were all in the same boat. Shock and concern were etched on their faces as they tried to come to terms with the news.

As she looked around, Harper couldn't help but feel a sense of despair. All the hard work and dedication that they had put into their studies might be in vain. The prospect of not being able to achieve their career dreams was devastating.

Harper tried to gather her thoughts and regain her composure. She knew that she had to think quickly and consider alternatives if she wanted to salvage her academic career. She had planned to enroll in a radiology program, but the loss of accreditation could mean the end of her ambitions. Unless…

"What's with this bitch?" Harper heard her friend say beside her.

“Yea…” was all she could manage to say in response, however. After all, none of the Foundation member’s futures seemed to be in trouble.

As the Foundation's representative continued to speak, Harper couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over her. It was as if the words being spoken were causing a chill to run down her spine. And then, out of nowhere, she felt a soft fluttering on her arms. It took her a moment to realize that it was the wings on her friend’s back causing it - a physical manifestation of the same anxiety and fear that Harper felt within her.

The brunette placed a comforting hand on her friend’s arm, forcing a smile on her face.
“I understand your frustration,” she said softly, choosing her words carefully. “But maybe...that's not the best idea.”

And Harper couldn't help but feel a twinge of self-loathing after the words she spoke. Honest and practical she was, as always.

Harper watched intently as Lorcán stormed out of the stadium, followed closely by Haven, whose feathers were still ruffled with frustration. Despite Haven's fiery spirit, Harper knew that it was important for them to remain level-headed amidst the chaos. Lorcán's sudden exit seemed impulsive and Harper couldn't help but wonder if he was planning his next move in response to the news they had just received.

Taking a brief pause, Harper's gaze drifted towards Aurora, her close friend, and she couldn't help but think about how difficult it must be for her to process the uncertainty of her future. With a heavy sigh, she got up from her seat and began to move towards Haven, calling out to her to wait up.



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