Qia

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

Though not known at the time, her prayers had not been ignored.

With a heavy sigh, Harper returned to flipping through the pages of her father’s sketchbook, her fingers tracing the worn edges of the paper. Her eyes scanned the drawings, but her mind was elsewhere, lost in a haze of nightmares and heavy emotions. The familiar scent of old paper and graphite enveloped her, a bittersweet reminder of countless hours spent watching her father bring his visions to life. Each page revealed a new masterpiece: distant mountains kissed by the first light of dawn, serene lakes shrouded in a mystical fog, and bustling city streets alive with the energy of countless stories. The intricate details and delicate strokes spoke volumes about her father’s passion for capturing the world’s fleeting beauty, something that not even she felt she could do.

Except with people. There was always beauty, even if small, to find with those she loved.

She paused on one particularly captivating sketch: a bridge arching gracefully over a vast, serene sea. The bridge, rendered with delicate pencil strokes, seemed almost ethereal, its elegant yet oddly designed structure giving it a dreamlike quality. The sea below was depicted in a state of perfect calm, with gentle waves lapping against the shore and reflecting the soft, silvery light of the moon.

The scene stirred a flood of memories within her, transporting her back to countless beach visits with her father. She could almost feel the warm sand beneath her feet and hear the soothing rhythm of the waves, their shared moments of peace and joy by the water coming to life in her mind. Each detail of the sketch spoke to her father’s intricate artistry and his ability to capture the essence of their cherished times together. It was more than just a drawing; it was a portal to the past. A past that could never be again except in her dreams.

Perhaps that’s why she’d missed it at first. The bridge, though undeniably beautiful, seemed imbued with a quiet melancholy, its lines slightly skewed as if burdened by invisible weights. The sea beneath, while tranquil, held an eerie stillness, as if it were holding its breath, waiting for something to break the silence. The delicate details of the scene—the subtle shading of the moonlight on the water, the gentle curve of the bridge—hinted at a profound sense of unease and emotional depth. It was as if her father had poured his soul into this sketch, capturing not just a serene landscape, but the very essence of his inner turmoil.

His guilt. His regrets.

Harper’s heart ached as she traced the delicate lines of the drawing, her fingers lingering over the intricate details. “You beautiful, torturous soul,” she murmured softly, feeling the weight of both her father’s and her own pain woven into the sketch. The emotions were almost tangible, pressing down on her chest. She turned the page, hoping to escape the heaviness, and stumbled upon a new image.

This time, it was a building, its sturdy brick walls partially obscured by creeping ivy that seemed to cling to it like memories. The tall, narrow windows cast long, haunting shadows on the ground, adding a sense of mystery to the scene. In front of the building, two girls sat on a weathered bench, their faces alight with joy and laughter. Their expressions were so vivid, so full of life, that Harper could almost hear their giggles and feel the warmth of their friendship. The contrast between the lively girls and the sombre building struck her deeply, her finger tracing one of them in particular.

If you wanted me to be happy, why would you risk losing it all?

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_{Location: Canis Dorms-> Academic Quadrangle - Pacific Royal Campus}

Take On Me #3.056: Finding Haven

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_{Interaction(s): Katja-@Zoldyck, Amma @Rockette, Rory @webboysurf, Calliope (indirectly)-@PatientBean}

Previously: You're So Vain

In the common area, Harper and Rory spotted Amma and Katja waiting. The archer’s eyes darted between the two, her gaze sharp and alert, capturing every subtle gesture and expression. Amma’s intense presence drew immediate attention; her raven hair cascaded around her shoulders like a dark waterfall, and her piercing gaze fixed on Rory’s arms. Harper looked down, taking in the faded scars marking his skin. They must have been acquired during the gruelling trials they had endured, as she would have noticed them before. She instinctively brushed her sleeved arm, eyes following the hidden scars beneath.

Amma chose that moment to speak up.

A cold dread settled in Harper’s chest at her words. The description of the dark, isolated rooms sent a chill through her, evoking vivid images of confinement and despair. The suffocating darkness alluded to a place devoid of hope and light, where the walls seemed to close in and every breath was a struggle. It made her skin crawl to think of Haven being held in such a place, subjected to unimaginable horrors. Clinging to the glimmer of hope from before, she reminded herself of Haven’s resilience and strength.

Resilience and strength they both possessed.

There had to be a way to reach her, to bring her back from the brink before….

Her hazel eyes landed on that same shade of violet from before, now wrapping around Amma in a suffocating yet oddly comforting embrace. The colour pulsed with a life of its own, creating a cocoon of connection in solitude, a paradoxical blend of warmth and isolation. It was as if the violet hue was a tangible manifestation of the unspoken—a silent understanding transcending words.

“I don’t know the campus like most, and I can’t go far without being with one of you, and they don’t want me gone long from the infirmary, but I will offer my power to you to help find her.”

“Thank you…Amma,” Harper began, her voice soft and sincere as she met Amma’s piercing blue eyes. For a moment, her gratitude was palpable. But as quickly as it appeared, her expression hardened into a familiar steely resolve. Her lips curled into a scowl, her tone shifting.“But Haven isn’t just another statistic.”

The unspoken words hung heavy in the air: I won’t let her become like you.

Amma met her eyes with little to no reserve, unrelenting, that gaze which made her think of Haven and the defiance nestled there in swathes of green and brown, bisected with the bonds of kinship that inspired their resolve.

"No, no, she won't."She slowly dropped her palms, splaying them open, scars surrendered and mannerisms lax and poised despite the glare that sheered over her features at the words left unspoken."I made a promise I would never let someone suffer what I have. To become..." she paused, spindles of red bidden through the air left betwixt them, those decaying pulses of black minute as it warped over her scarred body.

"The world has enough monsters."

Harper sucked in a breath, chest tightening as she opened her mouth to respond, but the words lodged in her throat, refusing to come out. Thankfully, before the silence threatened to stretch into awkwardness, Rory stepped in, his response positive and perfectly aligned with the unwavering optimism she had come to associate with him since joining the team. A wave of relief washed over her, grateful for his timely intervention and the comforting consistency of his character.

However, as he stepped towards Amma, Harper observed their interaction with her usual nosiness, eyes narrowing as she tried to piece together the nature of their discussion. She couldn’t help herself, attention drawn to the subtle cues in their body language. Rory’s posture had shifted noticeably; his shoulders squared, and his movements became more deliberate and controlled, all suggesting a confrontation or at least a serious discussion. Harper’s gaze flickered to Amma, noting the way her lips moved as she spoke. Although her ability to lip-read was limited due to lack of practice, she managed to catch a few keywords like “promise,” “saved,” and “mask.” These fragments hinted at the intensity of their conversation, though they left much of its context shrouded in mystery.

And for the better. It doesn’t concern you, Harper Baxter, the internal reprimand sharp and unyielding, like a teacher scolding a student for peeking at answers they weren’t supposed to see. Her cheeks flushed slightly, the heat of shame creeping up her neck as her skin prickled with the uncomfortable awareness of her curiosity. Yet, the more she tried to pull away, the stronger the urge became, leaving her caught in a web of her own making. She only managed to overcome this internal conflict when Katja also announced her presence, breaking the spell and allowing Harper to finally step back from the edge of her inquisitiveness.

“I might know of a place. I don’t know if it’s where Haven’s currently held but, I’ve heard of a place that fits Amma’s description. It’s been long abandoned, but deep under the Quadrangle there’s a place large enough to base some sort of operation from.”

Harper’s vision, still attuned to the little details around her, caught subtle shifts in Katja’s demeanour. As the blonde paused, a flicker of tension around her eyes, the slight tightening of her jaw, and the way her fingers twitched ever so slightly at her sides. These small, almost imperceptible signs hinted at an underlying anxiety or determination, though Harper could only speculate about what might be going through Katja’s mind. Then, as if she’d read her mind, Katja continued.

“And I know how to get there.”

This brought a slight frown to Harper’s mouth, her brows knitting together in contemplation. Even if Katja had a really good conjecture as to where Haven was, was it really worth deviating from the trail she had painstakingly uncovered? Still…. the practicality of having someone who knew how to navigate this mysterious place was not lost on her. If they did end up at the location Katja mentioned, her knowledge could prove invaluable.

But where had Katja even attained this information? In the entire year she’d been here, this was the first time Harper had ever heard of the existence of a place like this at the school. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the tall woman, searching for any telltale signs that might hint at the source of her knowledge but finding none.

“I think…we should follow the tangible lead we already have,” Harper said then, a small smile forming on her lips as she tried to convey both confidence and reassurance. “But if it turns out to be the same place, you can lead the way. How does that sound?” Her eyes met Katja’s, searching for any sign of agreement or dissent.

“Of course,” Katja said, a shaky breath escaping her lips as any tension she might have felt seemed to leave her body. “We can’t be certain my idea might lead anywhere and time is of the essence.” She paused for a moment as her brow furrowed before continuing. “What lead do we actually have though?”

“We have a trail from Rory's room that leads away from the dorms,” Harper explained. “It’s faint, but something I can definitely follow.”

Harper glanced around at her teammates, her makeshift family, her eyes lingering on each of their leftover scars, each mark serving as evidence of how they had fought and survived something unexpectedly thrown at them. The unknown had shown itself to be a formidable enemy, and they had no idea what they were walking into this time. But what choice did they have? Haven needed them.

So, belief and trust in her team, at this moment, came naturally to Harper, as instinctive as breathing.

Taking out her phone, she shot a quick text to Calliope, promising to keep her updated as they moved. The blonde was sure to join them after all, but Harper could not wait any longer. Every minute felt like a drop of sand in an hourglass she could not see, each second ticking away the precious time they had to save Haven.

“Alright, let’s get moving.”

---

“I guess your hunch was right Kat.”

Harper’s face took on a sullen look as she led the others through the Academic Quadrangle with a determined stride, her jaw set and eyes narrowed in annoyance. Just yesterday, she had walked these very paths, oblivious to the sinister plans unfolding beneath her feet. The thought gnawed at her, a bitter taste of betrayal and anger rising in her throat.

How dare they? The nerve, the audacity to think they could take one of her most precious people away, right under her nose. She could not let whoever this person was get away with this. Not now, not ever.

As they reached the entrance to what looked like an abandoned maintenance shaft, Harper’s eyes scanned the surroundings one last time, ensuring they were not being watched. The entrance was inconspicuous, almost hidden among the overgrown shrubs and ivy that clung to the building’s exterior. A rusted metal door, barely visible behind a tangle of vines, marked where they could enter. The door, though old and weathered, was still sturdy, its surface mottled with flakes of peeling paint and patches of rust.

“Alright, the trail ends here,” Harper said, her voice steady despite the tension coiling in her chest. She reached out, pushing aside the thick vines that partially obscured the entrance, the rough tendrils scratching against her skin. As the foliage parted, a small, rusted sign came into view, its faded letters barely legible: “Maintenance Access - Authorized Personnel Only.”

The door creaked loudly as Harper pushed it open, revealing a narrow, dimly lit stairwell descending into darkness. The air that wafted up from below was cool and damp, carrying a faint musty odor mixed with the metallic scent of old machinery. The walls were lined with pipes and wires, some dripping with moisture from long-forgotten leaks. A single flickering light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting ghostly shadows on the cracked and stained concrete steps.

Harper’s heart pounded in her chest as she took in the scene, the oppressive atmosphere pressing down on her despite not having stepped inside yet. Turning to her team, she forced a wry smile to take over her features, trying to inject a bit of levity into the tense moment.

“So…who wants to do the honours?”

Realms of Sun & Shadow

_{Interactions: Sunni-@The Savant}

---

Elara’s curiosity piqued, and she leaned in slightly, her eyes intently focused on Sunni as he wove his tale. She found herself irresistibly drawn into the narrative, her mind conjuring vivid images of the resilient desert fox, Enu, navigating the harsh landscape it called home. She could almost see the tiny, agile fox bravely standing its ground against the formidable eagle owls, their wings casting ominous shadows, and the skittish kangaroo mice darting nervously among the sparse vegetation. The parallels between Enu's struggles and her own were unmistakable, making the story not just a tale of survival, but a poignant reflection of the conflict she now found herself in.

Elara felt a profound pang of empathy for Enu, fully understanding his deep-seated desire to fix things and the heavy weight of guilt he carried on his small shoulders. She could almost hear the tortoise’s calm, measured voice imparting wisdom, reminding her that sometimes, despite our best efforts and intentions, we cannot control the actions and emotions of others. The story served as a gentle yet powerful reminder that there are limits to what one can do and that accepting these limits is a crucial part of finding peace.

Listening intently to the entire story, Elara felt her heart gradually warming as she slowly came to realize that this was Sunni’s way of comforting her. She nodded in agreement at his advice, feeling a bit lighter and more at peace. “Thank you, Sunni,” she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. “Your story and your words mean a lot to me. I’ll try to remember that.”

At his suggestion of taking a walk, Elara’s eyes initially brightened with a spark of interest. However, a wave of conflict soon washed over her, clouding her initial enthusiasm. She had planned to let Sunni down gently regarding his heartfelt confession, and now this unexpected invitation complicated things.

Didn’t it? It was just a walk, after all, right? Yet, the simplicity of the gesture seemed to carry more weight than she anticipated.

The young woman regarded him for a moment, the sincerity in his gaze tugging at her heartstrings, making it even harder to refuse. His eyes held a genuine warmth and hope that made her question her resolve. So why should she refuse? What was the reason again? The lines between her intentions and her emotions blurred, leaving her momentarily adrift in her thoughts.

“I suppose…” Elara began hesitantly, her voice soft and uncertain. “It might be a good idea to give my lady some time. To think.” It was an awkwardly phrased answer, one she supplied with a tentative smile and a nod, hoping it conveyed her willingness to consider his suggestion despite how it sounded.

“Let’s get some much-needed fresh air.”

"What Did They Do To Us?" - A Mysterious Supernatural Escape RP!!

A

---

As they were escorted from the dimly lit cell, A’s mind raced with a whirlwind of possibilities, desperately searching for any weakness she could exploit to turn the dire situation to their advantage. Up to this point, her resolve had remained unshaken, even in the face of overwhelming obstacles that would have broken lesser spirits. Yet, a flicker of doubt crept into her thoughts as her eyes locked onto a nearby scientist, who stood ominously with a syringe in hand, a precautionary measure meant to ensure compliance. Which meant there was no escaping what came next as she was brought under that familiar darkness.

As the memory washed over A, she found herself sinking to her knees, the weight of the past crushing down upon her like an unrelenting tide. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision and making it difficult to see what was in front of her. The cold, unforgiving floor felt like ice beneath her, a harsh contrast to the searing pain that still lingered from the crash. Each breath she took was a struggle as if the very air was thick with the ghosts of her past.

A felt a fleeting sense of relief as the haunting visions dissipated, but it was short-lived. A suffocating presence soon enveloped her, wrapping around her like a shroud. She felt a dread unlike any she had ever experienced before, as the presence loomed closer, its enormity eclipsing everything around her, casting long, dark shadows. Its words reverberated through her mind, each syllable dripping with malice, offering a sinister promise of power in exchange for their suffering and grief. The temptation to succumb to the darkness, to surrender to the pain and receive the promised power in return, was almost too much to bear. It was a seductive whisper that gnawed at her resolve, threatening to pull her into an abyss from which there might be no return.

Yet, as soon as it started, it was over just as quickly. A regained consciousness in a surge of panic, the unfamiliar sensation of the stitch marks on her chest sending a shiver down her spine. Her gaze darted frantically to her friends, taking in their own identical marks and the metal cuffs that bound them to their gurneys.

VV's voice pierced through the haze of confusion, her question lingering in the air as A struggled to make sense of their dire situation. The woman's announcement did little to quell her fear; the prospect of facing the enigmatic leader of the Wilds sent another wave of dread coursing through her body.

As the reality of their predicament sank in, however, A felt a sudden surge of anger mingled with her fear. They had been used, their bodies violated and transformed against their will, only to be sent out on a dangerous mission for the very people who had imprisoned them. The injustice of it all fueled her determination to fight back, to take control of their fate.

"We won't do it," she said then, her voice stronger than she felt. "We're not your pawns to be used and discarded."

Realms of Sun & Shadow

_{Interactions: Sunni-@The Savant}

---

“Good morning,” Sunni repeated, this time more confidently and calmly.

“Good morning,” Elara replied softly. Her calm and reassuring tone was like a gentle breeze, easing the tense atmosphere ever so slightly. The man appeared to be responding more positively to her presence now, his initial wariness giving way to a tentative sense of trust, though a hint of unease still lingered in his eyes. At least he didn’t run away, she thought, taking solace in this small but significant sign of progress.

As he listlessly pushed the food around in his bowl, Elara did her best to offer a warm, encouraging smile, hoping to break through the cloud of discontent that hung over him. It was evident that something significant and troubling had occurred before her arrival, casting a shadow over the morning. “I’m doing alright,” she replied, her voice gentle yet probing. “But I’m more concerned about what happened here. It seems like it’s been a tough morning.” Her eyes searched his face for any clues, trying to understand the depth of the situation.

It couldn’t possibly be about that right?

But it was just as Elara feared, her heart sinking at Sunni’s words. She dropped her gaze, her hand instinctively playing with a strand of her hair in a nervous gesture.

Octavia had been honest with Flynn, just as the handmaiden had asked her to be.

Regret washed over her almost immediately at this realization, a heavy, suffocating feeling that settled deep in her chest. She should have just kept her naive mouth closed, as was expected in these kinds of personal matters. Now, the consequences of her well-intentioned honesty loomed large, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had made a grave mistake.

“This…might be my fault,” she admitted, surprising herself with the confession. She lacked the courage to look up and gauge the other’s reaction though, her eyes remaining fixed on the floor. “I’d encouraged Octavia to be honest with Flynn about something, and now… now everything seems to be falling apart.”

“I don’t think I can honestly stomach anything right now.”

"What Did They Do To Us?" - A Mysterious Supernatural Escape RP!!

I'll have a post up by tomorrow or Friday :)

Realms of Sun & Shadow

_{Interactions: Sunni-@The Savant}

---

Elara felt it all before she saw any clues. The tension in the air was palpable, wrapping around her like an invisible shroud. Her heart pounded fiercely within her chest, each beat echoing the growing sense of unease. As she approached the front door of the wooden cabin, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Then she heard it. The odd silence.

It was deafening. An oppressive stillness that only served to amplify her anxiety.

Elara had half a mind to turn around and conjure up some pitiful excuse as to why she couldn't work today or attend the meeting. Instead, she found herself pausing at the door, her hand hovering over the wooden handle. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever awaited her on the other side, and with a gentle push, the door creaked open.

The cabin remained eerily quiet as Elara stepped inside, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. The dim light provided by the moon filtered through the windows, adding to the sombre atmosphere. In the kitchen, she found Sunni standing alone, leaning heavily against the counter as he slowly ate his food. His expression was distant, eyes unfocused, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts. The plates of food, covered with cloth, also seemed to hint at the recent turmoil that had disrupted their lives.

This was far from normal. Her princess was almost always the first to rise, her hums a melodic sound that filled the cabin as she prepared breakfast. The scent of freshly baked bread and brewed tea would usually waft through the air, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Even the prince, with his usual morning routines, would have been up by now. The absence of these familiar sounds and sights was jarring. Furthermore, someone would have surely made the effort to greet a guest, familiar or not, in the early hours of the morning. These were all clear indications that something was amiss.

Elara’s stomach tightened at the sight but found herself moving closer either way, her silver hair shimmering in the dim light filtering through the window. “Sunni,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of concern. “Are you alright?” She glanced again at the covered food before her gaze returned to him, her mouth shooting out a barrage of questions regarding her charge now. “Is the princess not hungry? Is she unwell? Or is she simply tired?”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: Science Wing - Pacific Royal Campus}

Take On Me #3.036: You're So Vain

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_{Interaction(s): Unknown Number / Nameless Insignificance}

Previously: Wing to Wing

‘Hey Rora, I was thinking it would be great to do something fun together tonight or maybe tomorrow if today is too sudden. How about we plan a movie night?’

‘Alternatively, we could go shopping with the girls. I think most of us still need to get dresses for the dance. What do you think? Let me know! 😊’

A flutter of anxiety surged through Harper as she pressed the send button and placed her phone down with a shaky hand. Her fingers immediately began to drum lightly on the desk, a subconscious attempt to release her pent-up nervous energy. Please, please say yes, she silently begged, her eyes flickering back to the phone every few seconds. The past few days had been tough for everyone, but she felt that Aurora, most of all, needed a break from everything that had happened.

All the while, her professor continued his lecture at the front of the room. Despite her best efforts to stay attentive, Harper found the whole thing to be a monotonous drone that did little to capture her interest. His voice, steady and unchanging, created an almost hypnotic rhythm, each word blending seamlessly into the next. The classroom’s dim lighting and the soft hum of the air conditioning only added to the soporific atmosphere. The brunette’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute, and she blinked rapidly, trying to fend off the drowsiness that threatened to pull her under. She shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs, hoping that a change in position might help her stay awake. Her fingers tapped restlessly on the edge of her laptop now, a silent plea for the lecture to end. The clock on the wall seemed to move at a glacial pace though, each tick adding to her struggle to remain conscious.

The sudden buzz of her phone on the table shattered the monotony of the lecture, jolting Harper from her drowsy state. Her heart skipped an anticipatory beat as she glanced over, a flicker of hope igniting within her. The screen lit up, displaying a message from an unknown number—one she did not recognize immediately. Her excitement quickly evaporated, replaced by a sinking feeling of disappointment. Not Aurora. The brief surge of hope dissipated like a popped balloon, leaving her feeling deflated.

On the preview of the message, she read the words ‘Hi???’, finally sparking a flicker of recognition. Her memory quickly pieced together who it might be: one of the few contacts she had reached out to earlier, someone she barely knew and whose name she'd never bothered to save. She recalled having to coordinate with this person in the past, their interactions marked by a lack of cooperation and a palpable tension. One she desperately hoped wasn’t present still. There were notes to be borrowed, after all.

Her fingers hovered over the screen before she tapped to open the message, bracing herself for the snarky tone she was likely to receive.

And did.

Attempt #1: Fail

‘Hi!!! Were you here for Matt’s Biochem class yesterday? Missed it 😣.’

‘Hi??? You missed a lot then! but I guess that’s what happens when you skip class. Maybe try showing up next time? 🙂’

And there it was. Typical, Harper thought, shaking her head slightly, feeling her frustration bubbling to the surface. Her fingers flew across the screen, typing out a response before she could fully think it through.

‘Thanks for the life advice, Dr. Phil. Now, about those notes…?’

With a sigh, she backtracked the message, deleting the text with a few quick taps. Closing her eyes, she leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling, exasperation etched across her features. This wasn’t the time for a petty argument; she needed those notes, if only to guide her still foggy mind.

“You got a pretty nasty hit there,” one of the healers that had attended to her had remarked, their voice gentle yet concerned. “So far, there doesn’t seem to be anything to worry about, but if you find yourself struggling don’t hesitate to reach out, okay?”

Harper had merely nodded her head at the time, her face a mask of inscrutability. She’d had zero intentions of seeing anyone. Because here was the thing:

She despised hospitals.

She had spent too many hours in the cold, impersonal atmosphere she associated with them growing up. And if things continued on their current trajectory, she knew that feeling of dread and anxiety would never go away. And she needed it to go away. But not like that.

Pushing aside her irritation, Harper took a deep breath and typed out a new message.

‘Look, I really need notes for what I missed. Can you help me or not?’

She paused for a second, rereading the message. It was direct, perhaps a bit too blunt, but she didn’t have the energy to sugarcoat her request. Harper hit send, watching as the message disappeared into the digital ether.

The response came quickly, the tone unmistakably cold and cutting.

‘You really have a lot of nerve. Don’t tell me you 4got all about it?’

Harper frowned, racking her brain for what they might have been referring to. As if having read her mind, her phone buzzed again, a new message lighting up the screen.

‘You told me that I was incompetent and pretty much unreliable cus of it. All because I had a ‘poor track record’.’

Harper’s frown deepened. The words stung now, but she couldn’t deny having said them when she gave it some thought. She had always prided herself on being straightforward, but perhaps she had been too harsh here. Before she could formulate a response, however, another message appeared.

‘So, why would you want anything from me, Sergeant Baxter?’

Harper blinked, her head tilting to the side in vague interest as she realized something. Wow, proper grammar this time, and through text too. That’s new. And they'd only been texting for five minutes!

She was so proud.

A smirk curled on her lips like a cat stretching in the sun, her fingers moving to type a response.

‘But look at how much you’ve improved already!!!’

Harper, of course, did not send this message either. Her actual response instead showed the amount of sincerity she could muster at that moment.

‘ohhh mbbbbb! 😓’

Right 🖕

Harper's fingers stilled, her smirk fading as she stared at the screen. The message hit harder than she'd expected, her earlier irritation giving way to a sinking feeling of regret. She put her phone down, her fingers drumming restlessly on the desk once more.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

_{Interactions: N/A / Open}

---

The soft, silvery glow of the moon filtered through the delicate curtains, casting a pale light across Elara’s room. The gentle illumination highlighted the room’s cozy details: the intricately woven rug on the floor, the shelves lined with well-loved books, and the delicate lace of the curtains themselves. The air was cool and refreshing, a light breeze rustling the fabric and carrying with it the fresh, earthy scent of the cloudy morning outside. On her bedside table, the royal summons lay open, its bright parchment evident against the dark, polished wood. The ornate lettering and the royal seal at the bottom were unmistakable, a clear indication of the importance of the message it contained.

Yet, despite the gravity of the royal summons and the urgency it clearly conveyed, Elara’s mind was elsewhere, consumed by the unexpected events of the previous night.

Or, really, just one event, in particular, she was ashamed to admit to herself.

The memory of Sunni’s confession played over and over in her mind, each replay bringing with it a fresh wave of emotion. She had tried to maintain a brave face in the aftermath, to appear composed and unaffected, but inside, she was anything but. As the night wore on, Elara had found no solace in sleep either. She had spent the hours tossing and turning, her mind unable to quiet the relentless replay of his words. Different versions of it played over and over in her head, each one more troubling than the last. Yet one thing that never changed in each one was the tremor in his voice, the earnestness in his eyes, and the weight of his words pressing down on her as he rambled on.

A wave of anxiety washed over her, making her stomach churn. Elara stood up, her legs feeling unsteady, and began to pace the room, trying to shake off the lingering unease. Her mind began scrutinizing every word, every nuance of her own reply. Had she been too gentle with him? Should she have been firmer, more resolute in her response? Should she have insisted more strongly that she simply could not return his feelings? For how could she, when her heart and her duties had always been with the Princess?

The parchment on her bedside table fluttered slightly in the gentle breeze, the movement catching Elara’s eye and drawing her attention back to the royal summons. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, marking the passage of time. It was almost 7 am, and the town meeting was only a few hours away.

Three hours. In less than three hours, I’ll know what to say, was the thought that flitted through Elara’s mind as she left her room, grabbing her cloak on the way out the door.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: Strigidae Dorms - Pacific Royal Campus}

Take on Me #3.031: Wing to Wing

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_{Interaction(s): Haven (hey gurl heyyyyy)@Skai}

Previously: Let’s Perch for a While

Harper’s heart ached as she listened to Haven’s story. She could see the pain and uncertainty in her friend’s eyes, and it mirrored her own in so many ways. Despite her own exhaustion, she couldn’t turn Haven away. Not now.

“Of course, Haven,” Harper said softly, her voice steady despite the weariness that clung to her. “I’ll sit with you. We’ll look it up together.”

She gestured to the bed, inviting Haven to sit down. As Haven settled in, Harper moved the textbook aside, making space for her laptop.

“We can probably try the admin’s office in a little while,” she said, her voice thoughtful as she considered their options. “But first, maybe we can find something about her or the school online with what you can remember.” Harper’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to type, while her gaze remained fixed on Haven, mustering a reassuring smile.

Haven took a breath as she adjusted her legs underneath her. She looked at Harper, finding it hard to speak the name of the girl's home, but she found assurance in Harper’s expression. She was glad that she was doing this with someone who cared.

“I was at a girls' home called Elk Mountain. It was in Michigan, but I don’t remember where really. I think the full name was just Elk Mountain Home for Girls.”

She moved to set her bag down on the floor beside her as Harper typed away. Her heart was already twisting as she turned back, her eyes searching the screen for anything that looked familiar. She couldn’t believe that she was hoping to find it there, instead of burying it deep within her soul once more.

“Her name was Anabel. I don’t remember her last name.”

Harper’s fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed “Elk Mountain Home for Girls Michigan” into the search bar. The screen filled with results, and she quickly scanned through them, looking for anything that might be relevant.

“Okay, let’s see what we have here,” she said, clicking on a link that seemed promising. “There’s a mention of Elk Mountain Academy, but it looks like it’s a residential treatment center for troubled girls.” She clicked on an image showing the place-

And stared at it for a moment, blinking and leaning closer as if it would help her take in what she was looking at. The building in the image was a large, old-fashioned brick structure with ivy creeping up its walls. Tall windows lined the front, and a neatly manicured lawn stretched out before it, dotted with a few benches and trees. Her brow furrowed slightly as she read the caption:

“For girls, lost and found, who need a safe and supportive environment to heal and grow.”

“Is…this it?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. There was something strange about the place, but what it was exactly remained elusive.

Haven’s heart leapt into her throat as the images displayed on the screen. She knew that ivy all too well. The lawn that was better fed and cared for than the occupants within the home. It looked almost the same as the night she’d left it. As for the home’s motto, it seemed foreign and heartless. She’d never thought of it as a safe or supportive space. Not even before she met Anabel, or had grown the wings that now ruffled subtly on her back.

“Are there… pictures of the inside? I need to make sure.”

Harper’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she nodded. “I’m sure we can find some interior photos,” she said. Surely the place had scheduled tours for those wishing to adopt, which, if they were lucky enough, would also mean the website would have a section dedicated to displaying how things looked on the inside for prospective parents.

Bingo, she thought, a smirk playing on her lips as she clicked the section at the top labelled Gallery. As the page loaded, a series of photos appeared, showing various rooms inside the home. Harper’s eyes scanned the images, her earlier apprehension fading away. Maybe it had been nothing?

“So, anything?” she asked Haven, glancing over at her friend with a hopeful expression.

The photos inside looked nothing like Haven remembered. She leaned forward, gold and green eyes searching the images for any resemblance. She found the similarities in the architecture, and in the spaces that remained. “It… looks different. But I see how the walls are the same shape. And the rooms are as big as they used to be, but they changed the paint and floors.”

“They just made it look nicer.”

Although her voice never wavered, Haven felt the familiar sensations of anguish as she remembered how the rooms used to look. How the halls used to feel as she walked through them. That ever-present sensation that she was doing something wrong, just by existing. She leaned away from the screen as she pulled air into her lungs. When she spoke, her voice was low and haunted, but confident.

“That’s it. So… is there any way we can look up who might have stayed there?”

“We can try,” Harper said, her eyes betraying a flicker of doubt. “There might be some records or alumni lists online. If not, we could contact the institution directly.”

She resumed typing, her fingers moving with a determined precision. “Let’s see if we can find anything here first,” she murmured, more to herself than to Haven. The screen filled with search results, and Harper clicked through them methodically, her brow furrowing slightly with each click.

As they continued their search, the room grew quieter, the soft tapping of keys, Haven’s breathing, and the rapid thumping of Harper’s heart being the only sounds. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy at Haven’s ability to confront her past, to seek out answers despite the very real possibility that they might not find anything on her old friend. How could the other woman deal with it all? Wasn’t it painful? Tiring?

“Here,” Harper said, pointing to a link that seemed promising. “This looks like a forum for former residents. Maybe someone there can help.”

Haven found herself watching Harper work as much as she watched the screen pass through link after search after link. She was grateful for Harper. Not only because she’d chosen to help, but also because she had a wealth of knowledge. Haven had felt disappointment gathering in her chest after the first few useless links, while Harper just kept on going.

She looked over her freshly cut locks, the new length adding new depth to the brunette’s face. Her eyes traced the heart-shaped face and the small nose. With Harper’s hair this short, she realized something that floated away on a breeze the moment her teammate found a promising link.

Eagle eyes scanned the page quickly. Her hopeful fingers reached out to the laptop, taking over the touchpad to scroll on her own. “Do you think she’d see it if I made a post? I’m not seeing her name.” Anabel could have changed it, for all she knew. Her old friend might have wanted a new name to go with her fresh start, if she’d been adopted. Haven could only hope that had been the case.

“I think it’s worth a shot,” Harper said. “Even if she changed her name, someone might recognize the details you share.” She leaned back slightly, giving Haven space to type. As she did, her hand instinctively moved to the scar on her cheek, her fingers tracing the lines there.

“People remember best the strong memories,” Harper muttered faintly, her eyes distant for a moment. “The ones that leave a mark… whether they’re good or bad.”

Haven had already begun to figure out how to create an account, her eyes scanning each word to make sure she did it correctly. Her fingers hesitated as she heard Harper. She could see her touching that horrible word on her cheek in her peripherals. Haven turned her head towards the brunette, her eyes sad and soft. “I don’t want to pressure you, but… You know I’m here for you, right? You can tell me anything.”

She let silence hang for a moment, making sure Harper understood her words. “I’m just a text away if you need anything.” She reached for Harper’s free hand, like she’d reached for her that day the brunette had helped her, and she squeezed it gently.

Her eyes turned back to the screen so that Harper wouldn’t have to answer if she didn’t want to. Her hands occupied themselves with creating a profile, and then moved onto her post. She was at a loss for words, her fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment. What could she say to grab Anabel’s attention? What memory, good or bad, could make it obvious that she was looking for her? Haven chewed on her bottom lip as she scoured her memories.

Harper felt the warmth of Haven’s hand, the gentle squeeze grounding her in what was occurring. She looked at the other woman, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears while her heart swelled.

“Thank you, Haven,” Harper replied, glancing down at her hands and wrapping her fingers around Haven’s before reluctantly letting them go. Her lips curved into a small, fragile smile, a silent acknowledgment of the support she desperately needed but still found so hard to accept.

The last thing the brunette wanted was for any of this to change. Haven’s admiration of her was something she cherished deeply. She clung to it like a lifeline, her beacon of light in her darkest moment. The thought of losing it over something that happened, and something that almost did, was immensely unbearable. Her chest tightened at the mere possibility, a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. She couldn’t bear the idea of Haven looking at her differently, of the warmth in her friend’s eyes turning to disappointment or pity.

Or revulsion.

She watched as the other woman turned back to the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, her hesitation clear as day. Harper could see the uncertainty in Haven’s eyes, the way her brows furrowed slightly as she searched for the right words. It was a small comfort, knowing that Haven was struggling too, that she wasn’t alone in her confusion and fear.

Perhaps…perhaps she could share what was bothering her. But at the right time.

“Maybe start with something specific,” Harper suggested gently, her voice encouraging. “A memory that only the two of you would share. Something that would stand out to her, even if she doesn’t recognize your name right away.”

Haven’s brow furrowed deeper as her lips pursed, but she nodded in agreement. She didn’t think about how Anabel may not recognize her name. She hated to admit it, but she was also worried one of the other girls would see the message too. The cruelty that could come of it would only harm her further. She didn’t know how much more of their bullying she could take after the trial had subjected her to it again.

She tucked the stray hairs around her face into the space behind her ear, before her hands returned to the keyboard with determination as she began to type:

A,
You found me under my bed when we first met. I drew the stars on the bottom of the frame. I hid there when I was lonely, and you hid there when you were scared. We hid there together when we stole jello cups from the kitchen.

I couldn’t say goodbye and I’m sorry. I hope you learned to spread your wings like me.

H

Haven’s fingers lingered over the keys as she ran over the lines of text multiple times. There was a bittersweet feeling in her stomach. A painful nostalgia, but she found herself only missing the person and not the place. In a way, just leaving the message on the forum felt like the best closure she was going to get. If Anabel saw the message, it was up to her to reach out.

“ The other girls there… they were the reason I left.” Haven murmured softly, her eyes reading the message for the fifth time. “I don’t want them to know it’s me, so… do you think this is enough for Anabel?” She turned her eyes to Harper, her worry present in the line between her brows.

Harper reached out, gently placing a hand on Haven’s shoulder, her fingers lightly brushing the wings there. She could feel the tension in Haven’s muscles, the unspoken fears that lay just beneath the surface. “I think it’s perfect,” she said honestly. An encouraging smile flitted across her lips, a brief moment of warmth before it faded. She removed her hand, her teeth coming to dance across her lip as she gathered her thoughts.

Now. Now was the time.

“What…Is that what the simulation showed for you? Those girls…?”

Haven’s breath hitched, her eyes flitting to the screen as she saw the images of the trial flashing before her instead of her message in a bottle. She hit the enter button, watching as her second olive branch of the day was carried through electrical pulses into the openness of the internet.

“It… showed me what might happen, what’s already happened, and what could have been.” She turned her gaze back to Harper now, her forest eyes haunted. “When I lived at Elk Mountain, I grew my wings. Anabel was the only one who didn’t think I was a...”

Her voice trailed off as her eyes were drawn to the scarred letters on Harper’s cheek, and then she immediately cast them downwards as the memories haunted the both of them.

“A freak?” Harper eventually finished for her, her voice trembling slightly as she forced the word out. The sound of it made her flinch, her body recoiling as if the word were still being physically carved into her skin. A considerable silence followed, the air thick with pain ready to be released through spoken word.

Harper could still see it, the mocking glint in those eyes, sharp and cutting like the blade that was used to mar her. She could still hear the cruel laughter echoing in her ears like a haunting melody. It was as if the room itself had absorbed the taunts, replaying them over and over in a relentless loop now that she was ready to express her truth.

“I got the scar on my cheek from my person…among other things,” she continued, her jaw tightening as she spoke. Her hands reached up to tug at the zip of her hoodie, pulling it down and throwing it aside unceremoniously, revealing the jagged lines etched into her arms.

“Except the funny thing was…she did think I was a freak.” Harper’s lips twisted into a bitter smile, her eyes darkening as she looked away, unable to meet Haven’s gaze. She could feel the old wounds reopening, the memories flooding back with a vengeance. She wrapped her arms around herself, a futile attempt to ward off the sudden chill that seemed to seep into her very bones.

“I needed to survive. But more so than anything, I wanted to wipe that ugly fucking smirk from her face.”

When Harper flinched because of the word, Haven only felt the muscles in her back tighten as she pulled her wings in closer. She moved her eyes from the screen to register Harper’s reaction to it, shamefully curious about how her friend had come to be called the name. It was obvious that it still stung the brunette to think of it. Where Haven had grown used to it many years ago and gathered strength to ignore it when she could.

Haven’s gaze followed the horrible lines down Harper’s arms with pained recognition. The simulation had surely done its job well in the remaining scars on both the flesh and the mind. She wanted to embrace Harper, to comfort her as the short-haired woman processed the lingering pain, but her own pain kept her still. Haven could only listen while Harper continued to unleash the horrors that she’d been subjected to.

A melancholic smile spread across her tanned features as she heard Harper’s fury hidden beneath the shaking in her voice. “I couldn’t even fight back…” She started, a subtle pride shining in her eyes as she looked over at her companion. “I’m proud of you for defending yourself, even if it haunts you that you harmed a simulated version of your bully.”

“I like to think that those girls took their own anger at the world, and their situation, and used it against me. Like I was an easy out for them to act as cruelly as they did. Yet they… they gave me the courage to find my own way. To break free of what society wanted from me.”

“Maybe yours felt the same way, even if the simulation made her seem cruel. And now you can use it to give you strength, too.”

Harper felt a wave of emotion wash over her as she listened to Haven’s words. The pride in Haven’s voice, the understanding in her eyes—it was almost too much to stomach. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. How often was she going to be brought to tears this week? The room seemed to blur around her regardless, the only clear thing being Haven’s face, filled with compassion and unwavering support.

She’d been a fool. Of course, Haven of all people would be able to understand her. She had spent all this time building walls around herself, convinced that no one could truly grasp the depth of her pain, of what she’d been through, of what she’d been forced to do.

But Haven—Haven had always been different.

She drank it, practically drowned herself, in that truth, ignoring the voice in the back of her mind saying But you haven’t told her everything .

Because for now, it was enough. To be understood for who she was right now.

Harper’s arms reached out instinctively, pulling the other woman into a tight hug. She was careful to steer clear of Haven’s wings, not wanting to crush them under the weight of her arms and emotions.

“Society doesn’t deserve you. You’re too good for it,” Harper murmured, her voice thick with sincerity and admiration. She buried her face in Haven’s shoulder, the warmth of the hug seeping into her very soul.

Haven’s heart felt like it was being squeezed by empathy as she realized Harper was holding back tears. It distracted her mind from the memories that usually seized her body. So as Harper pulled her into the hug, she didn’t flinch. She didn’t shake as arms held her tightly. This was Harper, the closest thing she had to a family now besides Rory and her team. She found herself welcoming the embrace. Her arms cautiously wrapped around Harper’s back before securing themselves in a tight hug.

She felt tears pricking at her eyes as Harper spoke those loving words. She’d never heard them before. It was a strange type of comfort, being told that she was too good for anything. Especially after years of being convinced that she had to conform to the rules of people both human and hype.

“Uhm,” she began softly, tears spilling out and down her cheeks. “Thanks, Harps.”

“That means a lot.”

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them filled with unsaid understanding and mutual support. Finally, Harper pulled back slightly, just enough to look into Haven’s eyes. Eyes, she realized, that were much like her own, down to the colour.

“You’re welcome, Haven,” she replied, rubbing the remnants of tears from her face. The traces of her earlier emotions lingered, but there was a newfound clarity in her eyes now. “Is that all you wanted to do?”

Haven sniffed, her tears beginning to fall less and less from her eyes. She hesitated a moment, a small feeling of yearning passing through her before she decided not to pursue it. She’d thought about searching for her mother, too. She just wanted a glimpse of her face. Yet she wasn’t sure how much more heartache she could take in one day.

“Yeah, I… I’m good. Thank you. For everything.” She smiled, a small but grateful gesture. “I’ll check it from the school computers to see if she replies, and I’ll let you know if she does.”

Harper nodded, her own emotions still raw but tempered by the connection they had just shared. “Take your time,” she said encouragingly. “And remember, I’m here for you, no matter how this turns out.”

---

"What Did They Do To Us?" - A Mysterious Supernatural Escape RP!!

A

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A leaned forward, her breath quickening as she strained to catch every word her cellmate uttered. His voice trembled, each sentence a struggle against the fear that gripped him. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the beads of sweat that trickled down his temples.

As he spoke, A’s mind raced, piecing together the disjointed fragments of his story. The facility, with its cold, sterile corridors and the ever-present hum of machinery, was more than just a prison. It was a place of experimentation, where the boundaries of human endurance were pushed to their limits. The thought of what awaited them if they didn’t find a way out sent a shiver down her spine.

She exchanged another worried glance with Pia, their eyes reflecting the same fear. "We're grateful for your help," A said gently nonetheless, removing her hand from his shoulder. "You've given us a chance to fight back against these people. We won't forget that."