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Dead inside, but somehow still kicking.

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and anotha one


It's winter in New York, and if the seasonal depression wasn't enough, there's a class reunion on the horizon. Beverly Hills High School's Class of 2013 has been summoned invited to The Magnolia, an upscale resort in upstate New York, by the girl who made all of their lives a living hell; Hailey Green. In a class full of artists and rising stars, nothing is more attractive than a bit of networking, even if that means rubbing elbows with a bunch of people you had hoped to never see again.

Enjoy the Magnolia's sweeping estate, Michelin Star meals, and top of the line service, while showing all your old enemies how much better you're doing. Hailey has planned a weekend itinerary that is simply to die for. There's certainly no way any of this could go wrong.





Silent Night at The Magnolia is a love letter to something old, with plenty of room for something new. Character will gather at The Magnolia for a reunion planned by former Queen Bee, Hailey Green, for a weekend that will very quickly fall off the rails. When the group gets trapped in the resort by a freak snowstorm, a killer will strike, and the game will be afoot. A SOL meets murder mystery, there's room for all kinds here.



Yearning
Yearning

location: In The Car | Freyja’s House
a @Legion02 @Fabricant451 & @smarty0114 collab



Hel pushed down the metal pedal with her heel as deep as she could. The engine in front of her was far beyond roaring and now well into letting out a dreadful wailing sound telling the goddess she was pushing limits she really shouldn’t. Behind her more than a few cars honked their horns as she wove through them. She watched them in her back mirror like specs of dust in the light of their headlights. That’s all they were right now for her. She didn’t mean them any malice but there were bigger things in life right now.

She took the off ramp her GPS told her to take and was forced by the roads to slow down. It didn’t do her much good. Now that the crazy race through the highway was over she was forced to think. What would she say? What wouldn’t she say? Would he even recognize her still? And what then? Would she embrace him? Kiss him!? No, no never that last one. He was Aesir.

She took a turn right and then left. She couldn’t kiss him, of course. What else was she supposed to do though? What would be her duty now? Maybe she should take him home? Her GPS gave her a small ping to tell her she arrived at the right house. Hel parked her car on the driveway and stepped out. He would need a bath right? And probably a refresher on everything that happened too? Some clothes? She could provide for him. But then what? Did she keep him to herself, as her secret? What would her siblings say? What would the Aesir say? What would he say?

All those questions stopped as she rounded the corner and reached the backyard.

Baldr was seated on a leather couch, straight-backed and shaking. He was still naked, though his body had been splattered with blood. The couple who had owned this house lay on the floor in front of him, broken and bloody. He had not wanted to hurt them, or at least, he wanted to believe as much. He had hurt them though, despite his protests. The fogginess that had gripped his brain so tightly was lifting now, but it did not leave any answers. Rather, he only felt like his confusion had grown.

He glanced to his left, out the sliding glass door into the backyard, and he saw her. Her. She was unchanged, as beautiful as the day he’d last seen her. He stood with a start, rushing to the glass door. He blinked, fearful that she was just an apparition, waiting to disappear the moment his eyes left her form, but she did not. She was real, and she was here.

His hand reached up and found the glass and then he was punching through it, ignoring the shards that cut into his mortal flesh. The pain was unimportant in the presence of the most graceful guide of the graceless. He had searched for her after the Fall, and he had searched for her in his dreams, and he had not found her until today. As his feet touched the moist grass, he fell to his knees before her. Words he had not known before today flooded his mind, strange and alien sounds. “You found me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion and pain. He did not know how he’d known those words, or even what language he was speaking. Only that she was here, and the nightmare was ending.

“Always.” Hel said as tears welled up in her eyes. She fell on her knees before him as well. There were no walls so high that they could stop her emotions from flooding her in this moment. After far too long they were together again. A droplet traveled over her cheek. The first of many to come. With one hand she cupped his cheek. “I missed you.”

And finally she could not hold herself back. She embraced Baldr. She could feel his warmth on her skin. It melted the ice in her veins and around her heart. A sob went through her. Hel tightened the embrace as if she was afraid that she’d lose him again. “I missed you.” Emotions were overwhelming her now, completely. The goddess of the graceless dead had never felt anything like this for two millennia.

His head fell forward, pressing their foreheads together, and for the first time since his slumber had ended, he felt safe. He breathed in the scent of her and felt it soothe his body, felt his muscles relax as her hand came upon his face. “I’ve missed you as well,” he said, his voice cracking as tears threatened to drown out his words. He met her gaze, bringing his hands to her’s so that their connection would remain. For a moment, he could not find the words. They were lost behind the lingering fog of confusion, and the pull of those beautiful eyes. “What is this place, Hel? What realm have I awoken in?” he finally asked, certain that she would not lead him astray.

“Midgard.” Hel answered, slowly but surely she got up, guiding him to stand as well. She never let go of his hands though. The glass in one of his hands was stinging her hand as well now but she never let go. “But things are… different. We are weaker and.. there are others.”

A siren echoed far away. Hel looked up like a deer suddenly looking for a predator. It was the sire of the firefighters. Still, the goddess knew well enough the problems that could arise if the police would come. Knowing strong, unharmable Baldr it would not end well for them. “We must go. I know a place.” That was a lie. She didn’t have a clue where to take Baldr. Still, she tugged him gently along to her car. Where she held a blanket to at least cover his modesty. “We’ll be safe there.” Hel kept insisting with her little lies. The lies came easy to her. She had used those little lies before, in Helheim.

Baldr marveled at the chariot Hel had placed him in. The mortals had been even busier than he thought. This was certainly not the Midgard he had known. He jolted as Hel started the car, startled by the rumblings of the engine, but he calmed when he realized Hel felt no fear. He trusted her, more than he could ever put into words. “You said there were… others. What did you mean by that?” he asked, gripping the handle above him as the car lurched forward.

“Thor and Odin are here too.” Hel answered as she put her car into gear and drove away. Without her lights on for a little while. Then once on the main road she drove exactly as any other car would. Perhaps a bit more carefully but still, she made a real effort to drive as normal as possible. “Heimdal is here as well, in Midgard. As is Freyja.” Of course, she summed up the Aesir and Vanir first. They were his family and they would be delighted to know that their Most Beloved finally returned from Helheim.

Something that only made her mind swirl more as she was driving. Keeping Baldr was selfish. She realized that now. As much as she hated them, his family deserved to know he was alive. They would be able to care for him better than her. After all, Freyja asked everything in existence for his return. She couldn’t give that much love to Baldr, she never had that much to give to begin with really. In English she bid her GPS to lead her to Freyja’s address. Then she dictated a quick text message heralding Baldr’s arrival in half an hour to the Norse goddess of love, war and magic. Her eyes she kept glued on the road. It would make the farewell easier. “I’m happy you’re here though.” She did say. Her voice quivered a little bit.

The Most Beloved nodded at Hel’s words, unmoved by mentions of his family. It had been ages since he had last seen them. Civilizations had risen and fallen and risen again, entire bloodlines had been wiped from the earth, and he had spent the vast majority of it asleep, and if not asleep, then imprisoned. The family he knew… Well, he suspected that he did not know them anymore. Still, he saw nowhere else to turn, not in this world of iron carts and talking glass.

“I-thank you. For finding me. I would not have blamed you if you’d forgotten me in my absence. It seems I’ve been asleep for…some time.” Baldr watched Hel watch the road, grateful for this moment. If this all turned out to be one last dream before his final slumber, he would not mind. At least he would’ve seen her, one last time.

“I could never forget you.” The words escaped Hel’s lips before she knew it. It was the truth, the absolute truth. For two thousand years, every day, she did find herself thinking of Baldr in some way or another. Now he was here beside her. There was something in her heart telling her to open up. To tell him she loved him, even now. Especially now, after Ragnarok must’ve already passed. She wanted to tell him that she wanted to feel his heat on her skin.

Those thoughts exhilarated her. Because of that though, she feared them now more than ever. Back in Helheim she felt the same. For the rest of the car ride, Hel closed herself off. She stopped talking, though answered any questions he might have. She became cold. This way - so she thought - was better. Safer. No one would get hurt this way. No one would cry this way.

Eventually, after a car ride that felt like it lasted a century, she reached Freyja’s house.

He turned to her with eyes that betrayed an ancient innocence. He trusted her, more than he trusted anyone. “Where are we?” he asked, glancing out the window at the unfamiliar home. He knew very little about this strange new Midgard, but he knew, at least, that he did not wish to lose Hel once more.

Little lies, Hel. The goddess thought to herself as she looked in Baldr’s eyes. Little lies for the greater good. For duty. Everything for duty.

“Somewhere you could make a home here in Midgard. Trust me.” Hel said with a comforting smile. She hid away her own aching heart behind that smile. It was for the better. Hel got out of the car. He would be at home here, amongst his family. His brothers would embrace him. His mother would kiss his cheeks. He would drink, feast, and smile and laugh here. It was for the better. She kept telling herself that as she rounded the car and opened Baldr’s car door to let him out.

Baldr stepped out, still wrapped in the blanket Hel had given him. “You will stay, though?” he said, his voice pitching into a question. He reached for her hand and gently stroked her slender fingers, desperate to hold onto them until the world split apart once more.

For just a few seconds they just walked in silence. “I’m afraid not.” Hel answered and she kept walking. She kept herself tightly in control. No, she would not allow her voice to break or her lip to quiver. This is what she had to do.

From the wide picture window on the second floor of her home, Freyja, half finished glass of red cradled between her fingers, watched as the car rolled to a stop outside though she turned away before the doors opened. Sixty minutes ago she had just gotten home after a difficult birth and wanted nothing more than to enjoy a warm bath, a bottle of wine, and an episode of a far too long running medical soap opera that was so wildly inaccurate she couldn’t help but to love every tawdry minute. Thirty minutes ago she was onto her third glass and the bath water was steaming and the only thing separating the water from her body was a short robe that promptly introduced itself to the floor. Twenty-five minutes ago her phone pierced the relaxing silence of water and stress fading away with a shrill trilling ringtone. How had she forgotten to turn the damn thing off? It was like being on call, a constant string of annoyances only this time there wasn’t an emergency that warranted her attention.

Or so she thought.

When she read the message her first instinct was that it was Hel’s idea of a sick joke but that couldn’t be possible; in the eternity that Freyja had known Hel she couldn’t recall the last time Hel said anything remotely funny. It had to be true. Her son. After all this time. Not a day had gone by that Freyja hadn’t missed him; how could she not with how…protective she had been with him back when she had magic at her command. But of course she knew he had to be fine…she had willed it so…all except that damn mistletoe…but after so long she had every reason to believe that the death was…permanent. How naive.

Fitting for one of Washington State’s ‘most eligible bachelorettes’, head OBGYN and fertility medicine specialist at the prestigious Hope Valley Medical Center, and one of the ‘medical experts’ on multiple seasons of the now canceled reality show ‘Couples Counseling’ and its much higher rated spin-off ‘I’m A Celebrity, My Relationship Is Fine!’, Katherine Nilsson’s home was a modest contemporary house that was far too big for the single person who lived inside. But Freyja had enjoyed the finer points of owning a home. Such as being able to enjoy a bath. Until that message. And the car arriving.
Hel and Baldr didn’t even have to ring the doorbell or knock on the front door. The lights on the first floor turned on as Freyja descended the stairs, signaling that, yes, someone was home, and that someone opened the front door, having set the wine glass on an endtable en route, and though every emotion welled up inside of her all at once as her eyes laid sight on Baldr…Freyja didn’t cry. All those years ago when the Fall had just happened, Freyja spent years crying every tear out of her body. Even now, when every part of her from brain to heart was telling her to weep…she couldn’t. She could only blink, mouth open, breathing heavy, expression somewhere between relief, fear, shock, and warmth. What could she say? What could she do?

“You’re…naked.”

In a similar state of shock, Baldr looked down at himself, blushing. “It seems I am. Hel was not quite prepared for my return,” he said, softly. There was a wariness to his words, a tension to this reunion. The centuries they’d lost seemed to stretch out between them, a wall that kept him from running into his mother’s arms. The sight of her conjured visions of a happier time, long before the Aesir had known tragedy, and yet what stuck was all the time they had missed. He knew how much he had changed in the wake of his death; who then, was the woman who stood before him? His mother, or someone else entirely? It appeared that he would be forced to find out.


𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖚𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘
𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖚𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘

location: Outside Odin's Place | In the car
interactions: Anteros | Hati | Tochi | Hermes
mentions: Deimos | Odin | Athena | Isabel




Anteros stood outside Odin’s apartment building, his tuxedo now covered by a heavy coat to combat the Seattle chill. He wrung his hands together while he waited for Hati to return from Odin’s penthouse, trying his best to push thoughts of his sister from his mind. Athena is on it. She will find her.

He’d wanted to go up with Hati, but he allowed himself to be relegated to this vantage point outside. He could’ve fought him on it, but he respected that Hati and Odin had a complicated relationship, one that Hati wasn’t exactly keen to have on display. He could relate to that. Still, worry for his friend continued to creep through his thoughts until Hati stepped outside and he was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

“How did that go?” he asked, stepping off the wall and smoothing out his coat.

A lot of things were turning over in his mind, so much so that it made his head hurt and stomach churn the more he thought about it. But there was just something about all of this that screams of corruption in a way that was much, much larger than anything he had faced before. Larger than even the High One could ever hope to orchestrate. His gaze only softened when eyes raked over Ant’s features, huddled there under the awning trying to keep dry and warm. It was as if a wave of relief washed over him, to see the Erote there, waiting for him.

Sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair, musing it up in the process, he voiced some of the issues plaguing his mind. It would be a moment before the winged messenger came to pick them up, they had time to mull over the events of the day. "It went about as expected, the old man is saying he doesn’t know anything but I call bullshit," The pressure from grinding his teeth together was enough to be heard, even as he continued on, "He knows something," his hair was slowly growing more and more out of control the longer he continued to play with it. A habit only showcased after speaking or coming into contact with the Norse Zeus.

"What is he playing at? Why hadn’t he informed the divine within the confines of the law about the weapon and its capabilities—"

Anteros stepped closer to the wolf, and placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. “Don’t let him send you spiraling. That’s the last thing we need right now.” He removed his hand before his emotions could overtake him and he attempted to smooth out Hati’s hair. They had not been those kinds of friends for quite some time.

“If Odin’s claiming the weapon was used without him knowing, perhaps that answers your question. You know him better than I do, would he really announce to all the pantheons that his vault had been pilfered?”

How Hati wished that he had kept his contact with him. How he craved it, though he wouldn't be so bold as to say as much now. Not today. After everything that has transpired between waking and now... it wouldn't be fair to either party involved; even to those not present. Sighing heavily he nodded, Anteros was always someone who could speak sense into that thick canine skull of his, and for that he was more than appreciative. "You're right. He would have gloated and made some kind of show... even in riddles he can't hide his pride for long. And there was none of that." A beat passed between them as the rest of the world continued on around them. Lights and sounds and smells jumbled amidst one another, pieced together to make up the night; an almost calming end to a chaotic day.

"Tell me," Hati began carefully. How he chose his next words could either break their lifelong friendship or break Anteros mentally, and the Moon Chaser would much rather break their relationship over seeing him so torn up and empty. "That woman I told you about earlier. The new client turns out she is your half sister... and I think she's involved with these crimes," He scanned the Erote's profile for any signs of agitation, trying to prepare for whatever came next.

Pursed lips betrayed Anteros’ feelings on the subject, even as his eyes darted away from Hati’s. A mortal half-sister to replace the immortal one. The Fates certainly had a cruel sense of humor. “My siblings do have a penchant for violence, more often than not,” Anteros said with a sigh. This day was neverending, and so it seemed, was the flow of unfortunate news. He clenched his fist, digging his fingernails into the skin of his thumb as he fought to remain his calm and composed self. He did not have the energy to lose control of his emotions once more. “Why do you suspect her? Cause if it’s daddy issues, I might be inclined to take her side.”

Hati couldn't help the barking laugh that escaped him. "Daddy issues... how I wish it were that simple. If that were the only deciding factor than a lot more than your new found half sister would be on the list." His insensitivity was not at the expense of Anteros' suffering, never. But he found the comment, though poking it was, to be the sort of dark humor he needed. "No, I suspect her involvement because of how she came into town, the day the Festival began, so high and mighty. There's no way she wasn't aware of the divine, us meeting for the apples. Seeking me out for some fool's errand? It all seems too convenient for my liking. Why else would she be here than to cause some chaos?" He shot a glare past Ant's head towards the oncoming headlights as they stood, huddled beneath the awning.

"Nothing about this day feels right. It's been off since this morning... since meeting her. It's when this, static like apprehension began. I don't like this, Ant. Something is very wrong, I can sense it." As if realizing his words however, he spun to face the young man beside him, grabbing a hold of his shoulders tightly, comfortingly. "I will do whatever I can to help aid your father and Athena in searching for Pothos, you know that, right?" Hati needed him to understand that. He wouldn't just let Anteros suffer in such a way. He hadn't had Sköll with him for ages now and he knew the ultimate grief that had begun to set into the bones of his old flame. It was only a matter of time before darker stages took root. Hati would do whatever it took to chase those demons away.

The moment between Anteros and Hati was looking closer and closer like something out of a saccharine soap opera and the only ones who liked those were retired or divorced women. It was scientifically proven. The headlights that had been seen were abruptly shut off as the vehicle rolled to a stop across from where Ant and Hati stood. Before a response could be given by Anteros, a sharp, loud, bleating blare of a horn pierced through the air. It lasted for what seemed an eternity - as anything loud and annoying does -and when it stopped at last there was an almost two second window before it sounded again. This one, somehow, lasted even longer. Naturally there was a third one that, strangely, was cut off far more quickly than the first two. The passenger side window rolled down and the shit-eating, wide grin of Huixtocihuatl smiled towards the pair under the awning.

“I hope you guys got condoms with how badly you’re eye fucking each other. Get in the car, nerds, I want a Happy Meal.”

Idle complaints from the driver could be heard, though not audible over the sounds of Tochi’s never-ending banter. Once she finished though, the driver side door flew open and a familiar voice filled the air. “For fuck’s sake, Hati, I’m not ubering you to a love hotel, my man. Sorry about her, she’s moody because I wouldn’t swing through the drive-thru on the way over here. Fuckin’ brat. Bet I’m expected to pay, too.” By the time Hermes had finished speaking, he was out of the car and leaning on the roof of it to peer over at Anteros and Hati. “Ant, you comin’ with us? We got an adventure to go on. And we’ll be going through the drive-thru.”

He paused and looked down at the car where Tochi still sat, before idly nodding his head with an overly dramatic sigh, “And yes, I’ll be paying, so don’t bust out your pocketbooks yet, lads. Let’s rock and roll. The backseat is dark, you guys can make goo-goo eyes and suck on each other’s tongues or whatever there.” Hermes said, drumming his hands on the roof of his car as he gestured for Hati and Anteros to move it along, “we’ve got a long night ahead of us, and I gotta feed my tortoises, so time is of the essence.”

Anteros sighed, the mood having been very passionately and violently murdered. He wondered if that was such a bad thing. He and Hati had given it a go, back in simpler times, and all he’d gotten for it were emotional scars and a penchant for troublemakers. “Hermes, Tochi, always a pleasure,” Ant said, stepping back from Hati. “Only you two could be present for a double homicide, and still be in the mood for chicken nuggets.” Anteros went around to the driver’s side and slipped into the backseat. “What exactly is this adventure?”

“Who cares about a double homicide? That happened like forever ago.” Tochi scoffed as she waited for the slowpoke lovebirds to get into the car; every second they wasted getting in was a second she was without late night McDonald’s in her throat. And everyone knew late night McDonald’s was one of the few things the mortals did that might have earned them a spot in paradise. “Oh wow someone died so sad. Let’s all stand around moping and discussing boring shit like ‘mortality’ or whatever and then later we can pull on each other’s dicks and smell our own farts.” Tochi’s voice was a mocking tone, she sounded as if she was trying to both be fancy and uptight but also someone masculine, like she was trying to be the Greek philosophers of old. Or what most poor people thought rich people with monocles sounded like.

“For the record, I don’t even want to be here, but Jerkass here kidnapped me. By getting into the car you’re both accessories to the crime, just ef-why-eye. Speaking of Jerkass, hey, Jerkass, lemme have the aux. You promised.’ He did no such thing and the last time Tochi had control of the aux when around Hermes she played Take My Breath Away by Berlin on loop. She hated the song, yes, but she liked making fun of Hermes for thinking the movie it came from was the apex of cinema. And then she played Disco Duck. Tochi was nothing if not an audio terrorist when given the opportunity.

“I still don’t even know why I’m here. I mean other than he promised McDonald’s. Why are you guys coming? Do you want me to adjust the mirrors so you guys can make out back there? I can promise to only watch until it gets creepy. And then a little more.”

The comments in general, for the moment that was there at least, were unwelcome, but nothing could be done about it now. Their ride was here. Hermes had mentioned something about needing to swing by and grab Deimos when he called his friend earlier. Not ideal, but what could he do? "Ah, little sister, good to see you too~" He purred, making sure to ruffle her hair a little more than usual as he made to sit in the cramped backseat. It would bother her no doubt - it's why he did it. "And if you want to watch so much, please make sure to record and post it. I'd like to make some money off of it." His quip didn't hold the same lightness to it that it typically would. Hati supposed it came from the agitation he still held from his meeting with Odin.

Hermes had pulled away from the curb as soon as the door closed and they were off on this "adventure" of grabbing food. The car was silent except for the Aztec gremlin's snorts and giggles as she shuffled through song after song all in the hopes of annoying the passengers around her. How in the world she was from the same pantheon as Tlazōlteōtl was a mystery to him. "Where is our lovely Dread this evening that she would need you to pick her up? Finally get caught doing something illegal?" The white wolf couldn't help but release a chuckle of his own as he peered at the driver from his place in the back. Anteros so close to him and yet much too far.

Anteros scoffed. “Knowing my sister, that is exactly where we are off to.” He shook his head, floored by the myriad of directions his family had managed to pull him in today, and by his own willingness to follow along every time.

Hermes adjusted the mirror to look back at Anteros and Hati in the backseat with a smirk on his lips. He hadn’t realized he’d have the honor of being the first to tell Anteros his sister had ended up in prison again. “From what she told me… she seems to have stabbed someone. And, as the one who holds her leash, it unfortunately falls on me to pay her bail and pick her up.” He adjusted the mirror to make eye contact with Hati, adding. “Don’t stick your dick in crazy, my man.” He said, before shifting the car into gear and pulling away from the curb he’d picked them up on.

“I hope she was wearing something cute when she got picked up, because we’re going to a party after this. And yes, Tochi, I’ll buy you chicken nuggets.” Hermes said, figuring that all of his i’s were dotted and his t’s crossed. “Any issues with the plan, tell me now.”

“You hold her leash? You’re not that kinky, dude and you’d definitely be the type to be led around by a woman. Cuz you a bitch!” Tochi took the opportunity to press a button on her phone which, because it was now hooked up to the speakers in the car, blasted the passengers with a loud, abrasive, piercing air horn straight from an app that existed only to play the air horn sound. “Get it? Cuz…bitches are girl dogs? I’m funny, it’s funny!”

Her point made, Tochi went back to doing what she did best: finding the absolute worst possible song for them to ride to on their epic journey with a wide smile on her face the entire time, like the kind a psychopath in a comic book would have just before gassing the mayor’s speech and getting punched by a freak in a black outfit. “Chicken nuggets? And a McFlurry. And a happy meal, but they better put it in an actual box. I’m tired of these clowns putting it in a bag. And an apple pie. And nuggets.” Her order continued until she found it. The perfect song to put on loop until Hermes tried to snatch the aux and potentially take his eyes off the road and cause an accident as Tochi snatched the aux away in an eternal game of snatch and grab.

“Hell yeah, let’s go to McDonald’s. And I guess break someone out of prison? I don’t know you guys bored me and I stopped listening. ONWARD.” And with the press of a button, their rescue anthem began to play to a cackling goddess of salt bouncing in the passenger seat.
Sometime between 6AM - 7AM

Introducing and featuring students:
Phoebe Masterson, Brenna Lancaster
Light mentions of: Damon Day
Includes teachers: Bishop Hardy, Rebecca Morgan,
Eliana Lovelace, and Perseus “Perry” Creeden


____________________________________________________________________


____________________________________________________________________

@LovelyComplex & @smarty0114

On one side of the Arena, a CrossFit class was being held. Damon was showing a demonstration of a tire flip. Start off strong, make sure as you underhand grip, that your hands are placed on the treads. And lastly, power. Power is key. Drive up through your hips. Don’t use your back. This is a compound movement, a total-body workout. Build those muscles and get some cardio in too. When he watched the smaller people follow his lead, he nodded and moved to another group that looked exceedingly more fit. Walking past them, he went to the arch, gesturing for the few to follow him. He led them to a group of large boulders. They were regulars so they didn’t need a lesson and went straight to using their muscles to push the giant rocks.

Instructor Bishop Hardy leaned on the coliseum bench, beside his coworkers, Rebecca Morgan, Perseus “Perry” Creeden, and a restless member of the Academy, who wasn’t part of the Department of Discipline & Management, Eliana Crowne, Lovelace, or whatever the fuck. He sipped earl grey tea out of a paper cup. This was the start of his morning, supervising the CrossFit class. As for the rest of them, well, it was becoming a weird tradition for the gym teachers to sit here and drink their tea, coffee, and coffee spiked with booze (looking at you Perry). Eliana was a surprising addition this morning, but nevertheless welcomed by the Crestview staff members.

“Can’t stand this whole goddamn agenda you’s got going on,” Hardy glanced over at Eliana who was sitting two people away from him, “By you’s I mean your fucking family and all them special lineage motherfuckers. If people knew half the shit we knew. Fucking diabolical. Supes over here giving people false hope, and you’s over here enabling that mentality, making powerless pricks depend on the broken system. Don’t say you’s don’t think it’s broken either, Crowne. I see it. In your eyes. You know.”

“It really is too early for this, Bishop. Like goddamn. I don’t come here to talk about philosophy or conspiracy or shitty people. I come here to drink coffee and wake the fuck up. Oh Becs, I love that top, who are you wearing?” The Crisis Manager and teacher of all things Crisis and Disaster related, took a sip of his coffee only to grimace and mumble, “Not enough whiskey.”

“Oh, this?” Rebecca Morgan looked down at her top, a flowing, black, silk blouse. “It’s a gift from the hero days. Donatella was a big Aurora fan,” she said, sipping from her own coffee.

With her arms crossed, she listened to the two Crestview teachers in silence, while watching two girls on the other side of the arena, sparring. Eliana didn’t sleep the following night. She couldn’t stop playing back the night Crestview College burned to the ground. How unsettling it all was and felt. This wouldn’t be the first time something in Crystal Peak went down in flames and unfortunately for her, she was part of that fire too. Was this simply PTSD or was it something more? “I wouldn’t say I’m enabling anything, Instructor—”

“Bishop. None of that title shit.”

“—Bishop. I can only speak for myself. All I can do is prepare these kids for the world they’re getting thrown into, to the best of my capabilities. No one, not even you, can dismantle years of history.”

“She has her points, Bishop,” Rebecca said, eyes still trained on the students below them. “We can’t raise the next generation to be a bunch of anarchists like you. Where would we be then?” She smiled and turned to Eliana. “I take it Illuria is settling in well?”

“As much as she can for her first week. Please do challenge her differently than the rest of her year.” Eliana uncrossed her arms and reached for her phone in her purse, having felt a vibration by her foot. “With her exercise intolerance and insomnia, I do worry she’s going to pass out one of these days.” Grabbing her phone, she saw the notification of her uncle’s email to the student body. Quickly peering over it, the Dean's letter was rewarded with an eye roll. Placing her phone back into her purse, she returned her attention to Rebecca, “My biggest concern with her is her outbursts when she feels cornered. Her heart can’t handle that.”

“Fucking Christ,” Bishop listened to Eliana explain her daughter’s conditions and took another swig of his tea. “Lots of issues on that one if she ever gonna’ break into the industry.”

After downing his coffee, finishing it with ease, Perry clicked his tongue and dramatically proclaimed, “Speaking of issues!” The trauma man, the grief counselor, the one that has a degree in emergency and disaster management, the sponge for all things fucking tragic, Perry gestured to the two girls sparring. Phoebe Masterson and Brenna Lancaster. “Those two seem to be keeping their head above water. The fire really did paint them out to be the bad guys. Sad. They’re smart girls.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about them too much, Perry,” Rebecca said, smiling as Brenna and Phoebe traded blows. “Those two have never had an issue when it came to keeping up with the class, and I imagine they’ve grown used to some nasty looks.” Rebecca felt an attachment to all her students, but Brenna and Phoebe held a special place in her book. They reminded her quite a bit of herself at that age; strong willed and independent, with more than a few chips on either shoulder. “They have work to do, but I’m confident in both of their abilities, especially Phoebe’s. Who knows, if things continue as planned, this year’s graduating class could be the strongest in years.” Becca took another sip of her coffee. “Although, since when has anything in our lives proceeded as planned?”

If you’re fighting for your life, there are no rules. Brenna Lancaster was a master at that but when facing Phoebe, her endurance could not compete no matter how many low blows she tried to attempt. “Come on, don’t half ass,” Phoebe pulled back with her bo staff, rotating it around her hands and then swiftly spinning it, passing it from one hand to the other behind her back.

While this wasn’t Brenna’s preferred method of fighting, nor her first rodeo with her friend, Phoebe knew it would help the Ice Queen’s body overall. It wasn’t about who finished the obstacle course first. No, it was to see who could finish the combo first and with the staff, it was devastatingly quick in the right hands. Incredibly mobile, switching from high/low to low/high in a few simple motions, and when the sparring really got going, you could hear it whizzing in the air.

Still, it wasn’t about the fight. Brenna was too offensive at times. This was about defensive fighting, especially when you were at harm’s way, which Brenna wasn’t usually. Not really. She had the safety net of distance usually at her side. The best form of attack was defense. If there ever came a time when their powers suddenly disappeared, would Brenna be able to protect herself? That’s what Phoebe Masterson cared about.

To Phoebe, if you can master a stick, you can master other weapons easily, it simply depends on the amount of endurance you’ve built over time to wield it. Sure more archaic weapons and not guns, but relying heavily on the growing technology of the world would limit your potential. One should still learn how to use a gun, but if you didn’t have one and were left with just yourself, what would you do? How would you survey your environment? Could you take down the stronger opponent?

At least through this training, she could teach Brenna to use all her force, again and again and again, and drive past resistance when her arms wanted to fall off. Any idiot can swing a staff, but a trained warrior struck with intention and never wasted a step. Phoebe didn’t expect Brenna to become a staff wielder when her friend alone was a weapon herself, what she did expect was for Brenna to build up her technical aptitude so her ice complimented her. Powers were just that. An accessory to who you were. Martial arts was all about balance.

Poor footwork, bad stances, weak base.

Brenna was better than that. She was a queen, who fought alone, just like her, and they needed no one to make the world shake. As quick as Brenna charged at her, she was back on the floor with a quick leg swipe, while forcing her friend back with the bo. “Okay, no more stick,” Phoebe threw it to the side and offered her hand to Brenna, looking at her with a smirk on her face.

Phoebe was right. Brenna was better than that.

Brenna flashed a grin at one of the few people she called friend. “If you say so,” she said in between breaths, before gripping Phoebe’s hand with her right and yanking her towards the ground, while her left wrapped around Phoebe’s shoulder and shoved her towards the concrete, trading places with the older girl. Suddenly, the tables had turned, and Brenna was now straddling Phoebe’s back. “I do prefer it this way,” Brenna taunted.

The ice queen leapt up, stepping back in preparation for Phoebe’s own assault. Her arms burned and her legs screamed, but her face wore a smirk that she rarely graced others with. Good humor was hardly her strong suit. Nevertheless, this fight had her thrilled. It wasn’t that Brenna lived to train, but she did live to win, and right now, victory felt close enough to taste.

While Brenna was aiming to defeat her opponent, Phoebe wanted to overcome herself and all her limitations. One of her limitations was going too easy on her best friend. Like the element she learned to master, Phoebe became an accelerating burning inferno (metaphorically speaking) and quickly advanced toward Brenna. She lept in the air and went in for a full force kick and by seconds, Brenna dodged it and that’s when the fun began.

With whirling circular blocks, quickness, and aggressive strikes from both her fists and legs, Phoebe showed no mercy toward her friend, which she knew she’d return the favor. And Brenna did, matching her energy and getting plenty of hits in return. Phoebe preferred this type of fighting, without powers. It brought out the best or worst in people. She liked to size her challenger up with how their body handled its environment. How their mind dealt with constant pressure hitting them. Over and over again. And how the person tried to overtake her.

Truth be told, she was best with her takedown defense, grappling and apprehending, and the greatest thing about martial arts was it taught you humility fast. But this wasn’t about winning, this was about tiring Brenna out. To see who would be the last one standing in the end. So, Phoebe would hold off on her strong suit, keeping herself in motion.

Deadly serious, the Queen of Ashes showed her friend why combat fighting was not something to help her win, it was part of who she was. The very breath she breathed. Without her gifted eye, all Phoebe would have was herself and that is why the scale would be unbalanced between them and have a higher chance tipping in Phoebe’s favor. This was more than just a training session for her. This was her life.

Brenna Lancaster was not one to give up. Even as she and Phoebe traded blows, she kept coming back for more, desperate to prove herself. To Phoebe, to the teachers watching, to the whole fucking gym. Brenna wanted everyone here to remember exactly who she was.

As the two continued sparring, Professor Morgan and her colleagues kept their vantage point, watchful eyes looking down on the various matchups. She leaned over to Eliana, smirking ever so slightly. “One thing you all should know about Crestview kids: they don’t go down easy,” Rebecca said, a touch of pride in her tone.

And they didn’t. Five minutes turned into ten which eventually turned into twenty. They were drawing a crowd, even getting Damon to stop and watch. The dedication in these girls was admirable. If only more students were like this. Then again, a hero also needed to know their limits, which it seemed neither girls did. Or if they did, they were stubbornly trying to surpass them.

As lovely as their fighting was to watch, it was almost approaching seven which meant soon kids would start trickling in for the early morning gym class. “Okay. They had their fun, now it’s time for them to get out of my arena,” Bishop was quick to stand up, ready to restrain them apart, knowing how stubborn they could be.

Instead, Eliana stopped him by raising her hand and smiled, “I can take care of it.” Rising up from the bench, she turned to the Crestview team and concluded, “Thank you. This was fun, and it’s amazing to see your students at work. I hope they like me!”

“Oh Ellie, you’re one of the more bearable Academy teachers. I’m sure you’ll do just fine in the popularity contest. You might not get catcalled like your sister, but you care and that’s all these students need. Someone that cares,” Perry waved at the science professor, simultaneously bringing his drink to his lips. After a few more exchange words between teachers, Eliana was making her way to the arena, to the girls that were sparring.

As she watched them go at it, she took in every motion they made, every breath they took, and every wince of pain they showed from getting hit by their comrade. For most teachers, this would be hard to keep up with but for Eliana she could see this playing out and even knew how it ended, if no one cut in. She knew who would win, and how they would. Her perception, her adaptive mind, and her ability to sync her actions in time with other’s made her one of the harder Crownes to take down. Reality was, rarely was Eliana surprised and when she was, they were usually out of her control and out of the hands of time. Not even the Timekeeper could keep track of everything because some things simply ignored time. Man alone measures time. Man alone chimes the hour. And because of that, it’s men that fear their own internal clock, running out.

“Excuse me,” Eliana cleared her voice, trying to get Phoebe and Brenna’s attention. After another minute, she realized neither girl was paying attention to their surroundings. They had been fighting for so long that they no longer were fighting as well as they could, because even heroes tire out. Stepping into the line of fire, knowing exactly where the two girls would hit, Eliana crossed her arms and waited for their blows to go into her, or to see if they were smart enough to pull back.

Phoebe was the first one to notice the teacher and stopped her fist from going straight into Eliana’s face. Phoebe was surprised with how nonchalant and unexpressive the science teacher was, as if she knew neither would get a blow in even if they tried.

Whether or not Brenna could’ve stopped herself is something only Brenna will ever know. Her fist continued on its course, a jab meant for the stomach though it found only air. As quickly as Eliana had appeared, she had dodged Brenna’s attack, effortlessly throwing the girl off balance. Brenna, unprepared for the lack of connection, stumbled forward, just barely managing to keep her feet under her. Breathing heavy, Brenna straightened herself and brushed off her clothes, quickly reverting from a warrior to a queen.

“Where I’m from, Professor Lovelace, you don’t interrupt a fight unless you intend to join,” Brenna said, coyly toeing the line between playful and churlish.

“That’s cute,” Eliana politely smiled at the Ice Queen, who was as unoriginal as they came, committing to the stereotype. “Where I work, students can fight in the presence of a teacher and seeing how it’s almost,” She glanced at her wrist watch then back at Brenna, “Quarter after seven, your instructors will be going about their day, as should you. You’re more than welcome to sign up for another session. But for now, it’s time to go.” With her hands clasped together, Mrs. Lovelace surveyed both girls, waiting expectantly.

“Yes ma’am. Sorry… we got carried away,” Phoebe answered first, in hopes that Brenna did not sass out their Physics teacher. Knowing her friend, Brenna always wanted to have the last word. Sometimes, she caused more problems than not.

“No need to apologize! I have nothing against that. If anything it shows your dedication. But I’m just doing my job and Bishop needs his arena.”

“We’ll get out of your hair then,” Brenna said. Phoebe’s answer had called her to heel. Whatever indignation she might feel towards her professor, she shoved it aside for the moment, and played the part of the prim and proper girl that so many expected her to be.

The two girls stepped out of the ring, Brenna following Phoebe’s lead as they headed for the showers. “I don’t think I like her that much,” Brenna muttered to Phoebe. This couldn’t have been much of a surprise. There were very few people Brenna did like, and very few of them were people with any authority over her.

“Well you don’t need to like her, but you do need to pass her class,” Phoebe teased before hooking her sore and sweaty arm around Bre’s. “I’m proud of you. For a second, I thought you were going to spank me, but then I was like nah, the only person you’ll spank is your boytoy.”

Brenna smiled and shrugged. “Sometime’s he needs it.”



Nearing noon…


The girls followed up their showers with breakfast and books. One week at Crystal Peak had already earned them more assignments than free time. They had holed up inside the cafe, coffee and pastries scattered around textbooks and notes. Admittedly, they would’ve been further along in their work, but Brenna had spent the last thirty minutes ranting about her boytoy.

“It’s just like, what the fuck is ‘im busy’ supposed to mean? He’s busy? I’m fucking busy. You’re fucking busy. He’s just infuriating,” Brenna said, shaking her head as she began packing up her things. Regardless of how she might be expressing herself, it was obvious to most that she would be over this bump in the road sooner rather than later. Sometimes, the ice queen just liked to storm about. “Fuck him though, let’s go play nice with the silver spooners. I want to beat Cashmore at her own game.”

Phoebe sometimes wondered why Brenna wasted her energy on Blackwell. While Abe was brilliant, probably too much for his own good, he wasn’t the best when it came to romantic emotions and communication, let alone transferring his attention on anyone else that wasn’t himself, and his work. Then again, Pheebs didn’t know him like Brenna did. Maybe somewhere deep down, he cared for her friend as a lover. Why else would Bre date him? Unless he was good in another department but ew, Phoebe didn’t need to vomit right now.

“You like what you have with Athena?” Phoebe closed up her books, one being a leather journal for personal use. In this journal she had her thoughts and scribbles on the occult, with a section dedicated to her analysis on a couple of students that piqued her interest. When all her things were gathered, she turned her head sensing a familiar presence. A white raven. As she left the table behind, she lifted her wrist up for Milky “MK” Way to land on her. When MK settled herself, Pheebs gestured with her head for the bird to climb up her arm and rest on her shoulder.

“She’s a challenge, at least. She’s smarter than the rest of ‘em. Don’t know how smart it is to trust a telepath though,” Brenna said, moving her face with a practiced and perfected coolness. Brenna would’ve been lying if she said Athena didn’t intrigue her, but there were no lies between her and Phoebe.

With a simple conversation through their eyes, Phoebe mentally asked for MK to hold her thoughts, likely the latest gossip of Crystal Peak, before bringing her attention back to Bre and earnestly admitting, “I feel like you’re going to find your place here before me.” Douglas and Brenna got the soft version of Phoebe, they earned it. If there was one person that always had her bitchmode on, it was Brenna, she was the Ice Queen after all. With Phoebe, she only needed to activate her raging inferno when she was protecting something she believed in or those she loved. Those she felt responsible for. Other than that? People simply didn’t like approaching her in the halls. People didn’t trust her easily.

Maybe she was unapproachable, or maybe she gave off an energy that was foreboding. Dangerous. Maybe she was feared because people thought they’d get burned. Regardless of what it was, Pheebs knew this transition wouldn’t be easy. It took her most of her underclassmen years to get people to trust her at Crestview. Now it felt like she was back at square one, trying to regain trust, all because a rumor painted her to be the bad guy.

To be honest, for someone who usually carried herself with confidence, determination, and strength, Phoebe’s tone showed her buried anxiety. Would she be able to keep it together? Or would she be ripped apart at the seams? Even strong people needed support from time to time. After having sat in a conference room, with people she barely knew deciding her fate, and a science professor protecting her honor — the same science teacher that came in between her and Bre from sparring — Phoebe wondered if this was even worth it. Would she have enough energy to finish this school year? Was all this pain, suffering, and endless struggle going to amount to anything?

Her life was full of hardships and she wanted to keep going, she desperately needed to, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t tired. In addition to her exhaustion, the constant migraines, the sudden wash of negative energy, like depression but not really, and the endless thoughts from her hyperactive brain did not help. Phoebe knew where the moments of immense negativity came from, and it wasn’t from her, it was from the thing resting in her eye. She also knew at this point, her intelligence came with a price of never being satisfied, which meant she would compromise sleep if it meant she’d discover something new.

Her need to know surpassed every logical thought in her brain that told her to take care of herself. She hated it and yet she couldn’t stop. This was how she’s always been. This is how she’s survived this long. Still, Phoebe Masterson hoped her mind was playing games with her and that this new year wouldn’t be that stressful. That this year would actually be fun. She hoped, for once, she could catch a break or at least have something to look forward to. Instead, she played her role, as a leading figure at Crestview College, and continued to aim for the stars. That’s all she could do while so many people looked down on her. Aim for the stars. She had no other choice than to go high. If she didn’t, what would the board do to all these kids they did not believe in? What would the world do if she didn’t break this generational problem of people being treated less than because a piece of paper, or their family’s history deemed them unfit? What would happen if she didn’t fight?

Nothing.

Nothing would happen.

And that’s where the problem lies. That’s what she hated the most. That’s why she has to fight.

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