[ a witch in beacon hills || lxngdon + itliveswithin ]

[lxngdon]

STILES STILINSKI

Stiles was running. He could hardly remember a time in his entire life where he had ran harder or faster than he was running now. His feet slapped against the pavement with a violent thud that hurt his ears. His chest heaved up and down, up and down, aching and straining with every breath he forced down his tired and overworked lungs. A thin sheen of sweat had pooled on his fair forehead and he could feel wet marks at his armpits, damp from exertion. Yet, he did not care. He continued to run as if his life depended on it -- which, in that moment, it very much did.

Because if he was late to his Ancient Greek Mythology tutorial one more time, the professor was surely going to kill him.

It was strange. In period of his life where Stiles was constantly looking over his shoulder to see what supernatural creature was trying to kill him this time, he still had to attend lectures, turn in assignments, and make sure the old bat who taught them Greek Myth did not throw her chalkboard duster at him when he walked in late. The contrast between the two sides of his life was jarring, but the normalcy of university was comforting to him. It was a sign that no matter what weird shit he had to work his way through as a result of his best friend being a werewolf, life could still go on as it had before. Though, with a lot more broken bones than usual.

Stiles kept running. As he neared the building of Beacon Hills University in which his class was being held, he checked the time on his watch, slowing down so he did not run face-first into the sliding glass doors. Ten-fifty-nine. One minute. As soon as he had cleared the doors, Stiles started running again, weaving through the few students milling about in the lobby before taking the stairs two at a time. He hurtled through the hall and belted out the last few feet as he neared room 1E. Finally, with seconds ticking away at the clock like the last few drops of blood from a broken corpse, Stiles' hand landed on the handle.

He opened it frantically and practically threw himself into the first available seat with such velocity that the wheeled chair moved a few inches and bumped into that of the girl he had seated himself beside. "Oh, shit, sorry," he said frantically to the bushy-haired brunette, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he looked up at Professor Laurin, who was glaring at him with that old crone's glare of hers.

"Just in time, Stilinski," she said patronisingly, shaking her head like an exasperated mother. She turned around and Stiles shot a glare at her, finally catching his breath after his frenetic attempt to get to class on time. He reached into his bag and pulled out his notebooks, paired with the old Ziploc bag filled with highlighters and pens that he had been toting around since the eighth grade. If he was going to risk his life with this devil of a teacher, he was at least going to make sure he took good notes.

HEX code: #54ACD2
coding by lxngdon

 

[roxybirdie]

HERMIONE

Brightest Witch Of Her Age

America was peculiar.

She wasn't a stranger to cultural differences. Before she attended Hogwarts and until the summer before her fifth year, Hermione traveled abroad with her parents. She visited Spain, Italy, France, and many more. Fourth year introduced her to French and Bulgarian etiquette, customs, and mannerisms. Despite her cultivated background, something about America was odd. As a renowned bibliophile and notorious researcher — and borderline know-it-all — Hermione delved in the magical history surrounding the Americas. The founding of Ilvermorny was undoubtedly fascinating, but she focused on the former laws and regulations mandated by the Magical Congress of the United States.

Until 1965, Rappaport's Law banned witches or wizards from fraternizing with mundanes or, according to American slang, no-maj's. Hermione researched the events prompting the law, but it remained barbaric, nonetheless. She may be a muggleborn — she preferred the term, first generation witch — but Hermione understood the importance of the Statue of Secrecy. Should mundanes — or muggles, but she preferred mundanes — discover the magical world, the consequences would be detrimental. However, if the magical world continued to ignore the mundanes' technological advancements and overall culture, sheer ignorance may expose her world.

Four years passed since the Battle of Hogwarts. Despite the severe damage and unfortunate losses, Hermione and numerous survivors returned the following September. She graduated from Hogwarts with the highest marks and broke a couple academic records, specifically in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. While her best friend joined the Auror Academy, Hermione worked in the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures department.

The former Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, while heavily misguided, demonstrated her unwavering passion for equality and the betterment of beasts, beings, and magical creatures. Within two years, Hermione rose through the ranks and became the Junior Head of the Beast Division. Due to her sharp wit and unyielding determination, outsiders speculated she would run the entire department, and oversee all the divisions, before her twenty-fifth birthday. Two years ago, Hermione was recruited by the Department of Mysteries. After deliberate consideration, she joined the department. Since unspeakables are classified — at the Ministry, she was known as Unspeakable Hawthorn — her position in the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures became a cover.

A few months ago, M.A.C.U.S.A. contacted the Ministry of Magic and reported a foreign witch disguised as an American no-maj infiltrated the United States. After a thorough investigation, President Quahog discovered the dark witch was connected to Lord Voldemort and suspected to know the whereabouts of the remaining death eaters and additional Voldemort supports at large. Minister Shacklebolt assigned his best and brightest aurors to oversee the joint investigation; Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

Head Unspeakable Dark Oak linked the dark witch to mysterious deaths during Voldemort's reign. Before the Battle of Hogwarts, witches and wizards worldwide who specialized and protected the Nemeta Craobh — sentient trees of sacred power — vanished and are presumed deceased. During her first year in the Department of Mysteries, Hermione joined the Nature Chamber, a new branch specializing in magical phenomenons in the wilderness. She, surprise, surprise, focused on one of the Wizarding world's most obscure sources of natural power; Nemeta Craobh.

When the investigation traversed to Beacon Hills, California — the location of the largest Nemeton in the south coast — M.A.C.U.S.A. requested an expert. Head Unspeakable Dark Oak assigned her to monitor the tree's overall condition and protect it from the dark witch. Once Hermione joined her best friend and his partner, the trio left Magical Britain and entered the mundane world.

Unlike the majority of muggleborns, Hermione didn't neglect her mundane education. She completed her GCSE's and A levels. Due to her increased magical workload and consequent responsibilities, Hermione didn't strive for a university degree. A part of her wished her first exposure to higher education wasn't an elaborate cover to locate, capture, and detain a dangerous witch.

"Oh, shit, sorry,"

Honey brown eyes assessed the frazzled brunette. A frown marred her lips. Honestly, it didn't require much effort to maintain optimal punctuation. Unlike her fellow classmate, the curly-haired brunette arrived fifteen minutes early. Hermione inclined her head politely. "No harm done," she replied. She directed her attention to the college professor. Resting at her feet was an innocuous dark mauve messenger bag. On her desk was a thick notebook and an assortment of pens and highlighters organized in a neat row. One week passed since Hermione and her team began their assignment at Beacon Hills University. According to their cover, the trio are exchange students participating in a yearly abroad program. Instead of residing in the university's dorms, M.A.C.U.S.A. secured the team a private Victorian house on the outskirts of town, near the Beacon Hills preserve.

If Hermione had a choice, she would have majored in a specific subject. However, General Studies was less conspicuous. Fortunately, her electives compensated for the lack of academic challenge. Despite the curriculum's ghastly professor, Hermione enjoyed Ancient Greek Mythology. Elements from the subject are applied to a variety of ancient runes.

code by itliveswithin

 

[lxngdon]

STILES STILINSKI

The voice that emanated from the young woman he had knocked into was an English one, a detail that caused Stiles to perk up, staring at her for a split second with a surprised but curious expression. Foreign students were rare in Beacon Hills, despite it being a college town. Most international students aimed for the Ivies -- Yale, Harvard, Princeton, the kind of school inhabited by both blue-bloods and the nouveau riche. Beacon Hills may have been a hotspot for supernatural creatures, but the most interesting humans it attracted were stoners and white guys with dreads who still thought hacky sacks were cool. Very rarely did they meet a regular exchange student.

Stiles wondered, for a moment, if he should be wary of her. These days, he was always wary of strangers. Everyone had their limit of how many times a random person could try to kill them -- Stiles' limit had peaked at zero. As Laurin began to teach, he peeked at the British girl out of the corner of his eye, as if trying to notice any fangs or glowing eyes, anything that should suggest that she was anything other than normal. He saw nothing. Huh. Maybe she was just a regular student after all.

The lesson proceeded, with Stiles diligently and frenetically noting everything down, from the notes on the chalkboard to the additional comments that made their way out of Laurin's wrinkled mouth. By the time she announced, halfway through the lesson, that they would be splitting into pairs and discussing the questions posted on the class's website, Stiles had filled three pages in his notebook with carefully colour-coded notes. The notes themselves were nice and organised, written in his messy handwriting, but very clearly organised well. However, Stiles himself looked insane, with a highlighter between his teeth, a red pen behind his ear, and fingers covered in coloured marks from the various items of stationary he had used. His eyes were wide with slight panic as he scrambled to write down the last of the notes on the board. When he turned to the English girl, he tugged the highlighter out of his mouth and accidentally drew a small yellow line next to the corner of his mouth as a result.

"Hi, I'm Stiles," he said, holding out a hand in order to greet her. Given that he looked like a messy kindergartener who had gotten into the arts and crafts box, his formal and adult greeting seemed jarring, but oddly charming paired with the rest of his demeanour. "Stiles Stilinski. It's nice to meet you. What brings you to BHU from all the way across the pond?"

HEX code: #54ACD2
coding by lxngdon

 

[roxybirdie]

HERMIONE

Brightest Witch Of Her Age

Professor Laurin may be a ghastly shrew, but she was brilliant. Her patronizing disposition was unprofessional and inappropriate, but she paled in comparison to Severus Snape, her old Potions professor. Hermione diligently recorded an assortment of notes. The information was organized, color-coded, and if required, highlighted. Merlin, a mundane pen was exceptionally smoother than a quill and inkwell. Once Harry and Ginny gifted her a fountain pen on her nineteenth birthday, Hermione forgone the outdated writing instruments. Her writing, unlike a certain brunette, was delicate and sophisticated. Hermione took pride in her impeccable penmanship. When Hogwarts mandated the use of quills and inkwells, she spent an entire summer practicing her penmanship until it reached her previous caliber.

"Hi, I'm Stiles,"

Before the professor divided the students into groups of two, Hermione averted her gaze. She accepted the offered palm. "Hermione Granger," the brunette introduced. After a firm handshake, she retracted her hand. She tapped the corner of her mouth. "You've got something there," she warned. His overall appearance was disheveled and chaotic. The ink and highlighter stains reminded her of an unruly child. However, before he introduced himself, she glimpsed at his notes. Despite the atrocious penmanship, the information was significantly organized and color-coded.

Rubbish punctuation aside, Stiles Stilinski was undoubtedly clever.

"Likewise. Beacon Hills University offered a one year exchange program at my school and I accepted. Since this is my first time in America, I believe BHU is a more satisfactory change of pace," Hermione announced. Direct and at the same time, vague. Her cover depicted her as an excellent student who considered Beacon Hills University a stepping stone. She remained cordial, but she didn't join the assignment to forge attachments. While Harry and Draco focused on locating and detaining the dark witch, her main priority was protecting the Nemeta Craobh.

Unfortunately, since the Nemeton was a sentient tree, finding it will be her greatest challenge.

"—finally, Stiles Stilinski and Hermione Granger. Find your partner and get started," Professor Laurin groused.

Her nose wrinkled. Despite the professor's brilliance, her manners are downright barbaric. Even Umbridge, the foulest woman on the planet, maintained a moderate level of decorum. Hermione directed her attention to Stiles. She picked up her notebook and flipped to a fresh page. "First question. What is your input on the influences Greek mythology has on today's media?" she inquired. Hermione, unsurprisingly, memorized the questions on the website. While magic interfered with modern technology, she mitigated the threat. Her strict no magic policy enabled Hermione to utilize the university's computer lab. At home, a combination of her policy (when applicable) and magical dampening wards — enchantments she personally invented — prevented the destruction of the mundane appliances she installed. It wasn't much, but a computer, television, and refrigerator made a significant impact.

The wards aren't foolproof, but if the appliances aren't exposed to dangerous levels of magic, the enchantments should protect the mundane technology. On the other hand, since it was the first time she applied the wards in a live environment, Hermione wasn't entirely certain. Magic can be downright unpredictable. Due to its fickle nature, magic and modern technology can never truly coexist.

code by itliveswithin

 

[lxngdon]

STILES STILINSKI

Hermione? What a weird name. Stiles could not help but be surprised by the strangeness of the brunette's name, despite the irony of him being surprised by any name when his was Miecyzslaw. His shock look was momentary, but was only replaced by a look of embarrassment as he touched the spot on his face indicated by Hermione. He bashfully licked his finger and wiped the mark away, but attentively listened when she went on to talk about her selection of BHU.

"That makes total sense. It would probably be a bit of a culture shock, moving from England to a place like Harvard or Yale." The term 'bit' was a huge understatement there.

Laurin called out their names together, indicating that they were a pair. Stiles avidly noticed the wrinkle of Hermione's nose, and he could not help but worry that that was because she did not want to be paired with him. That tiny facial twitch reminded Stiles so much of Lydia and her constant stream of rejections fired towards him. For a moment, his mind was poisoned with the self-doubt that always lingered in the background, and he wondered if he was truly repellant to other people. But before he could spiral too far into a depressive state, Hermione was already reading out a question.

"Hm? Oh." Stiles jerked back into reality and turned the page in his notebook, where he had written out the questions the night before, ready with dot points of arguments he had thought of -- potential talking points during the class. "Well, you can make the argument that our perceptions of strength and power are derived from oral traditions like Greek myths," he said. "A lot of the deities have certain characteristics that are desirable of a group. Strength, courage, fierceness, pride." Like Scott, who would stare into the eyes of cruel people and take them down for the sake of mankind at large.

"The mythos also influences societal values like intelligence, ingenuiety, wisdom." Like Lydia, whose mind was as sharp as a sword and whose wit could draw blood. "Or they influence people to be unyielding, to stand up for what they believe in no matter who threatens to knock them down or stand in their way." Like Derek, who would never let anyone push him around and who was so concrete in his morals that he would rather die than violate them. Stiles could see all of these wonderful traits in those who surrounded him. Yet, he felt like the sidekick.

"And those with flaws or who make mistakes are punished. It's a message telling us to be the best we can be, which is truly reminiscent of how a lot of us are brought up."

HEX code: #54ACD2
coding by lxngdon

 

[roxybirdie]

HERMIONE

Brightest Witch Of Her Age

As her Ancient Greek Mythology partner opened his mouth, Hermione jotted down his keen insight. Instead of recording verbatim, she summarized the information and organized it into bullet points. If Hermione was surprised by his eloquence, she didn't show it. For a moment, her mind wandered. All the sudden, images of the past surfaced.

A lot of the deities have certain characteristics that are desirable of a group. Strength, courage, fierceness, pride. Harry. Her best friend's bright green eyes hardened, unyielding resolve evident in his steely gaze. As Harry entered the Forbidden Forest, Hermione anticipated his inevitable demise. A part of her wanted to strangle him for his recklessness, but Hermione admired her best friend's unwavering courage.

The mythos also influences societal values like intelligence, ingenuity, wisdom. Draco. She never anticipated befriending Draco Malfoy. He was a downright prat in school. He supported Voldemort during the war. However, once he extended a figurative olive branch, Hermione learned the intricacies of pureblood culture and how much society and family impacted him. The majority of his past behavior stemmed from his upbringing.

Or they influence people to be unyielding, to stand up for what they believe in no matter who threatens to knock them down or stand in their way. Neville. He was once a shy, unassuming boy. However, as the years progressed, Neville found his confidence; his inner Gryffindor. While Hermione and her best friends hunted Riddle's remaining horcruxes, Neville rallied the students to fight against the injustice at Hogwarts. During the Battle of Hogwarts, he cut down the vile snake, cementing their freedom.

And those with flaws or who make mistakes are punished. It's a message telling us to be the best we can be, which is truly reminiscent of how a lot of us are brought up. Tom Marvolo Riddle. He may have been a genocidal megalomaniac, but once upon a time, he was a lost boy. Harry once mentioned Riddle and him shared exceptionally similar upbringings. What set him apart from the foul monster was love. The darkness would have consumed him, but Harry chose to reach out.

Once she completed her notes, Hermione banished the sudden onslaught of memories. She swallowed thickly — remembering the war felt like white hot daggers in her chest, but time reduced the blinding pain to a dull ache — and mustered a faint smile. "Very astute," the brunette witch praised. She meant it. Hermione found empty compliments meaningless and distasteful. If she was unimpressed, she didn't hesitate to voice her opinion. The former Gryffindor may have mellowed compared to her schooling days, but despite her self-growth, she still valued the truth. "One of the greatest impacts is arguably the perception of death and the afterlife," she announced. Hermione scrawled a new bullet point. "Death is not a complete end to life or human existence. The manifestation of a soul after death alluded to an afterlife," she elaborated. Hermione backed her argument with the foundation of the Underworld, the role of Hades, and the concept of the Final Judgement. Her direct precision demonstrated the tremendous effort she exhibited in her research. "I believe we've covered the first question. Is there anything you wish to add before we proceed?" she inquired.

code by itliveswithin

 

[lxngdon]

STILES STILINSKI

"You sound surprised," Stiles joked, raising his eyebrow to indicate his amusement at Hermione's remark. Stiles was quite aware that he came across as rather goofy -- he had been told by numerous teachers in the past that they had not expected him to write or speak the way in which he did. Still, he never failed to feel slightly defensive when others were surprised. He felt as though he needed to prove himself as intelligent whenever he met a new person.

Though, his mild offense slipped away when Hermione began to contribute to the discussion, and it was replaced with a profound feeling of joy. Joy, because his partner seemed just as invested and just as insightful as he liked to be when it came to schoolwork. It was rare that Stiles met someone who matched his enthusiasm, so when Hermione began to speak, he excitedly jotted down her notes, and they bounced off one another throughout the rest of the lesson. By the time Laurin called their attention back to herself, Stiles had filled up an entire page more than his allocated answer space with their comments and ideas. And during question time, Laurin was very clearly impressed with their answers -- and even if her reaction was subdued, Stiles felt proud to have earned it, because it was the first time she had ever looked at him with anything other than disgust.

At the end of the lesson, Laurin announced the pairs for the group project due in a few weeks' time, and to Stiles' delight -- and slight shock -- he had been paired with Hermione again. He wondered briefly if she had just utilised a random name generator or something of that nature, but he cared very little, because he had actually just been given a competent partner in a college group project.

"Well well well, look what we have here," he chuckled, turning to Hermione. "Do you want to exchange emails or something? Maybe we could meet up in the library to get some work done."

HEX code: #54ACD2
coding by lxngdon

 

[roxybirdie]

HERMIONE

Brightest Witch Of Her Age

"You sound surprised,"

Hermione arched an eyebrow. Despite his humorous jab, and overall disposition, something in his tone was off. Did she offend him, perhaps? Draco once told her she had the subtlety of a rampaging graphorn. It wasn't her intention to belittle Stiles, but his keen insight was genuinely surprising. She rarely met people with her level of intellect and enthusiasm. Draco matched her intelligence and dedication, but half the time, they argued like cats and dogs. He may be a good friend, but he can be downright insufferable. "I am," she admitted. Instead of elaborating, she focused on the next question.

Twenty minutes later, Stiles and Hermione recited all the questions and discussed them in great detail. Once Professor Laurin ended the discussion period, she selected groups counterclockwise and proceeded the oral presentation. At the end of the rotation, Stiles and Hermione presented their answers. Even if her reaction was dull — or downright reluctant, the unseemly crone — Professor Laurin was impressed. Before class ended, the professor announced the pairs for the semester's first group project.

Stiles again, huh? Since the project was worth twenty percent of her grade, the brunette was delighted to be assigned a competent partner. Hermione despised incompetent slackers.

"Maybe we could meet up in the library to get some work done."

She picked up her messenger bag, opened it, and stored her notebook and writing utensils. The bag was equipped with undetectable extension and feather light charms, but a subtle notice-me-not charm warded it from prying eyes. "The library sounds brilliant. I'm free on Thursday," she announced. Hermione brandished a sticky note and scrawled her college e-mail and personal number. "If you need to reschedule at last minute, you can reach me faster on my mobile. Does one o'clock sound doable for now?" she inquired. Hermione stuffed her pen in her bag and handed Stiles the note. All the sudden, her cellphone buzzed. She wasn't fond of disrupting her classes, but since she was part of an official investigation, Hermione couldn't silent her mobile or turn it off.

She retrieved her phone from her jeans pocket and glanced at the screen. Draco flashed on the digital surface. Unlike a popular iPhone or Galaxy Samsung, it was an old LG with a slidable keyboard. "Sorry, but I have to take this," she said. Without another word, she hit accept and pressed the mobile against her ear.

<< Finally! I tried calling you for the last five minutes! >>

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "I left you explicit instructions," she reminded.

<< Maybe if you didn't get me a simpleton phone, it would work better! >>

She ignored his jab. Spoiled prat. "I'm in the middle of something, Draco. What do you want?" she countered.

<< Harry found something. >>

Her eyes sharpened. "On my way." She hung up. Hermione pocketed her mobile and stood. She slung her messenger strap over her shoulder. "Pardon the interruption, but my roommate needs help with his research project." The lie slid off her tongue like honey. "If Thursday doesn't work for you, text me a different date. It was nice meeting you, Stiles." She pivoted and exited the lecture hall. She wasn't fond of lying, but it was inevitable. Hermione hated to admit it, but Draco improved her deception and manipulation.

Merlin, he was still insufferable.

*​

A few days passed since her Ancient Greek Mythology class. It was Thursday afternoon, a few minutes prior to one o'clock. Fortunately, her partner didn't reschedule. Hermione and her roommates are currently inside the campus library, working on different projects. Three days ago, Harry narrowed the dark witch's whereabouts to Beacon Hills University. Considering her age range, Hermione suspected the culprit could be a professor. However, without evidence to validate the hypothesis, all three of them agreed not to rule out students. Her gender seemingly cut the suspect pool in half, but a Polyjuice Potion could rectify the issue. On the other hand, according to Draco, none of the closest apothecaries recently sold ingredients featured in the potion. He intended to expand his investigation, but it would take time.

"You're not getting a laptop," Hermione hissed.

"Why not? The lab is always crowded and you hog the computer at home," Draco huffed.

"I do not! You fried our computer yesterday trying to type your essay. I have to install a new computer tonight," she reminded.

"So?"

She gritted her teeth. "The answer is no, Draco. End of discussion," Hermione countered.

He opened his mouth, a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue, but Harry shook his head. His nose wrinkled in response. "Fine," Draco muttered.

It wasn't over. Honestly, Hermione wouldn't be surprised if the pretentious git went behind her back and purchased the latest and most expensive laptop on the market. Didn't he understand the complications? Newer the technology, the more unstable the magic. Her magical dampening wards may be impressive, but they aren't infallible. Draco convinced her to install a newer flatscreen television, but she put her foot down on the computer and refrigerator. Unless he agreed to zero magic, it wasn't negotiable!

code by itliveswithin

 

[lxngdon]

STILES STILINSKI

Stiles was, admittedly, slightly confused by Hermione's weird phone conversation. He had no idea what to make of it from the limited snipppets he was able to hear -- did she have an annoying roommate? A boyfriend who didn't know how the washing machine worked? He was bewildered, but he did not get the chance to ask, as she swept from the room without any further hesitation. Stiles blinked, thinking about it for a moment, before he shook his head and shrugged it off. A strange phone conversation was the last thing on his mind -- there was a full moon approaching.

*
​

"Do you know what this means?!"

"...Honestly, Stiles, I was lost as soon as we started this conversation."

Stiles had mastered the art of thumbing through pages of paper as he walked, which allowed him to haphazardly and frenetically show Scott and Lydia all the documents he had printed that morning. He had been up all night researching the latest shenanigans that had been going down in Beacon Hills -- honestly, would they ever get a break? "They're sacrifices, Scott. Sacrifices! As if werewolves and Kanimas weren't enough, now we have to fucking deal with dead babies and Satanic cults and --"

"Shhhhhh," Lydia aggressively whispered, elbowing Stiles in the side as they walked past a group of girls. Stiles relucantly quieted down, knowing that he needed to shut his trap when they could be overheard, but also a bit pissy about being interrupted in the middle of a tirade.

"We can talk about this later, okay?" Lydia hissed, her voice laced with venom. "You have to work on that project with that girl anyway. Just ... I don't know, try to stay calm, okay?"

"Alright," Stiles grumbled, straightening up his papers as they entered the library. Hermione wasn't particularly hard to find, and Stiles raised a hand in a slightly awkward wave when he saw her. She was not alone, which threw Stiles off for a moment, before he remembered that he wasn't alone either. "Hello," he said to Hermione as he reached her table. "These are my friends -- this is Scott, and this is Lydia." He gestured to the two of them as he named them. Scott smiled his signature friendly smile, and Lydia raised her hand in an absent-minded greeting as she took the papers from Stiles' hands and began to thumb through them herself. "Are you ready to get started on the project?"

HEX code: #54ACD2
coding by lxngdon