Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
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don't go in the woods
CAST | LORE | IC
 
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neptune

𝔦𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔩
SECURITY DEPARTMENT
Invitation Status
  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. No Preferences
Genres
Slice of Life, Horror, Fandoms, Superheroes, Crime, Drama, Grit, Supernatural, Light Sci-Fi, Modern Era, Dark Themes
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DAWN VENTURE
Location:
newspaper club room
Interactions:
lauren @Bubs

Even without Zeke’s help, disaster seemed to follow Lauren wherever she went. Dawn watched in awe as the redhead managed to slip and fall with little more than a dramatic hip-check; she hit the floor with a thump that sounded more serious than it likely was, and Dawn, uncomfortable with being comforting, simply stood and watched. She braced one hand on the table and peered over just in time to find Lauren righting herself. A crunch quickly followed a Dawn grimaced as Lauren continued on brightly, seemingly unfazed by the new crack in her glasses.

“It is?” she asked about the ink-stained draft. Normally, Dawn would have laughed anyone else out of her editing room for trying to turn in an article in such piss-poor shape, but there was just something about the other girl that softened Dawn up. It was the same with that boy, she noticed, the sad, mousy one who always looked at the birds. Pathetic just tugged at her heartstrings. “I’ll have to clean it up for the Xerox machine.”

Sitting, Dawn rested one of her elbows on the desk and reached a hand out for Lauren’s glasses to assess the damage. “It was a bit challenging for me, too,” she admitted about the book. “But I just loved the story, and the scenery.” She paused for a short moment and turned the girl’s glasses over in her hands, “I’d like to fix these for you. You shouldn't have to walk around not being able to see."
 

Kuno

Django Jane
INTERN MODERATOR
DONATING MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Prestige
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy, Sci fi, Romance, Historical, Modern, Supernatural
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baby love
Location:
theater rooftop
Collaborative Post For:
Baby x Richie

Richie didn't turn, but a tension stiffened his usually relaxed form. He’d been hoping one of the boys wouldn't ask him that.

"Sorry, I wandered off. Went to talk to Percy...then Dawn."

By the way, she also crushed any romance between us and made sure a giant target would be on my back for the rest of the school year. Any advice?

“It didn’t go well.” He huffed lightly on his cigarette, exhaling into the cooling air. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

He turned, smiling at Baby. It wasn’t enough to dispel the hurt shining so clearly in his eyes.

“Girls, am I right?”

Ah, there it was. The allure of a pretty rich girl wasn't something that Baby could personally understand, but it didn't take walking a mile in a guy's shoes to feel sorry for him. "Yeah?" was all Baby asked when Richie dropped Dawn Venture's name and he kindly held back a groan at his friend's expense. "She never wants anything to do with you."

When it came to doling out advice, there was only so many times Baby could say move on before he started sounding like a broken record. The sad truth, in his mind, was that Richie liked being treated like a doormat. If that was love, then Baby didn't want any parts of it.

"She'll come around, dude. She's gotta give hickies to someone around this dump. Why not you?"

"Ha. You think so?" Richie wanted to laugh, but he couldn't muster up one. "I dunno. She might have some rich prick on her mind."

He took a light inhale of his cigarette, blowing it out in one thin stream. "What do you think, Baby? Should I keep the puppy love going strong or chase another car?"

What went on in Dawn's mind, in any of the founders' minds, was beyond Baby. He wasn't a gossip to begin with, and something about speculating felt wrong. "Maybe she does," he shrugged, rolling the filter of his cigarette between two fingers, "and maybe she doesn't, but either way, you gotta find a new car."

He botched a smoke ring and frowned as the wonky shape billowed away in the wind, "or no car. Ride solo, bud. Get a bike!"

Richie finally laughed. Baby had more or less said the same things in the past, but the words had far more clarity now that he and Dawn had separated.

Ha. Separated. What were they, married?

"Yeaaaah. I need to do what you do. Leave the ladies wanting more," He replied with a wink. "That's how you roll right? No, uh- But-"

He paused, pivoting in his perch to regard Baby fully. His angular features had abruptly sobered.

"Unless you and Benji…? Sorry. I don't want to just, like, assume you're into chicks, man." Despite no one else being up there, his voice had lowered in volume.

"I don't know about that," Baby snorted, his cheeks a bit flushed as Richie embellished his prowess with the ladies. Despite being a people person, he was slow with girls. He had a hard time figuring out what they wanted, or if they were serious about him, and on the off chance his heart really yearned for someone, he ended up blowing it one way or another.

Just like he'd done with Ivy.

"What!" The jump in conversation hit him like a ton of bricks and the accusation--however gentle--left him coughing into his first. "Me and Benji?" he asked quickly, "that's just a rumor! It's--" Baby coughed again and shook his head, "where did you hear that?"

The sudden burst of indignation was a bit overblown considering how often Baby could be found tucked beneath his best friend's arm, but he'd never thought anyone had mistaken their closeness for romance. "Benji's a good guy," he said, not answering the root of the question either way, "that's it. That's the end of it."

Feeling slightly sick to his stomach, Baby tossed his cigarette and scrubbed a hand back through his hair. "I'm starving," he lied, "I've been up on this fucker all day. Let's go get some lunch, alright?"

The change in scenery would hopefully prompt a change in conversation.

"Sure, sure." He regretted asking. He'd thought that he was being tactful but -

Well. It didn't matter. It wasn't any of his business anyways.

Ever mindful, Richie added nothing more as he rose languidly and came alongside Baby. He showed no intention of chucking his own cigarette as they went inside, and the would-be delinquent took another puff before smiling slyly.

"C'mon. Let's nab a table before the place gets bum rushed."

 

Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
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AVERY BLACKBOURNE
Location:
Feyre's room
Interactions:
Ewan @neptune
A haunting melody tinkled delicately from the jewelry box, until Ewan killed the music with such finality it made Avery shudder. It felt symbolic of Feyre’s unfortunate end. Like the music, her life had ended so swiftly, so soon. But was a life shackled to a box really a better alternative to death?

Pen scraped against paper as Avery wrote a response. Dining Hall. Sunday evening, the words said. Avery furrowed his brows, gaze shifting to the dress once more. News broke out on Monday morning. Closet is a mess, but Luc didn’t see her at the party, he continued.

Maybe something held her up.
 

Ghostly Boo

Edgepeasant
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SERENA BLACKBOURNE
Location:
Cafeteria
Interactions:
Aofie - @DANAsaur

There was a reason for Serena's lack of swimwear. In all of Grimsworth, the pool block was her least favourite. She'd nearly managed to go her whole school career avoiding it.

She had no intention of breaking that for a 'spa' no matter how nice the experience may have been.

"Thank you," she offered in response, careful to keep her eyes down as she pushed her food around her plate.

"Unfortunately, I just remembered I have a few things I need to do so I won't be able to relax with you by the pool," she said, offering her best convincing tone.

She'd known Aofie for sometime now and knew that if she even attempted to explain, the other girl just wouldn't understand.

 
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Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
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SUPER FREAKS
SUPER FREAK - RICK JAMES
Location:
outdoors → abernathy hall
collaborative post for:
kellen x calista
“See, they always say that at first.”

Kellen said as if he hadn’t heard her question, watching his cleats as they made fresh impressions on the ground. A few strands of hair had clumped on his forehead, damp with sweat.

“But after a little while, they start catching feelings. And then suddenly I’m an asshole for dipping,” he continued, giving Calista a wary sideways glance. “You know what I mean?”

"I catch what you're putting out," Calista mused. Nibbling one more at the end of her pencil. Cocking her head to the side, letting the flecks of highlighted cheekbones shine in the overcast sun. "But, you're not who I'm interested in anyway. I'm more interested in the emotionally brooding type." She turned to the fresh page on her spiral notepad.

"You can never be too careful, though." She agreed with the paranoia of people catching feelings. Once upon a time, Calista was that type. Took one bad one night stand to change that. A duck out of school grounds to get the morning after pill… Then the rumours started.

About how she was easy. Slept around.

“Yeah,” Kellen said, but he was no longer paying attention. Her pencil-nibbling had distracted him. He peeled his eyes away from her mouth, finding sudden interest in the group of people—or rather, a certain person—walking ahead of them. He’d recognize that man-bun anywhere. “So anyway, you wanted something.”

"Interview for the paper," she purred. "Unless you have other ideas, flyboy." Calista coyly tipped her head to the side, exposing the column of her neck. The thin little cord choker. Slightly disheveled hair from the little breeze on the field. "I'm open to any creative suggestions," she teased.

“Oh, yeah?” Kellen said, “That sounds pretty suggestive already.”

But his thoughts wandered elsewhere. He thought about Kota walking ahead of him, unguarded and oblivious. It was the perfect opportunity. Kellen’s eyes took on a roguish glint, the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind. “Think you can run?”

There was a coy edge to Calista’s smile. Her smile seemingly brightened the blue of her eyes. She had suggested something alright. “I can run, but the question is…” She mused leaning forward, cupping a hand around her lips to add a certain dramatics to the motion. “Can you keep up, sport?” She started, only going at a speed to take the guidance of the chaser.

Skirt bustling in the light breeze, but she was running without a care. Wind in her hair. She was wild.

“You’re forgetting who you’re talking—fuck. I didn’t mean now!”

Kellen bolted after her, the duffel by his side hampering his legs with every movement. He’d fallen so far behind that the best he could do was smack the back of Kota’s head as he passed by.

When he reached Calista, he was a windswept mess… but he laughed anyway, ignoring the shouting in the background. Then, Kellen grabbed her hand, leading her through the back doors of Abernathy Hall.
 

Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
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JORDAN LYNCH
NPC POST
Location:
southern lane
Interactions:
Hunter @Kuno Benji @Vinn Jasper @Ghostly Boo
Time stopped, and so did Jordan’s breathing.

Fantasizing about sticking a knife through Hunter’s unbeating heart was one thing. To actually do it was another story. But he didn’t step away, even as the memories flashed in his mind, unbidden. He turned around, gritting his teeth.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you, Nolan,” he said with a shrug, but his eyes were metal. Then he flicked his gaze towards the others. “Didn’t know being in a rush was such a heinous crime. It was an accident. Calm the fuck down. If it was another white boy passing through, you two wouldn’t have batted an eye.”

He turned to leave. He wasn’t about to attack where everyone could see and interfere. Someone else could get hurt. Or worse. No, Hunter needed to be alone for this.

Only then could Jordan settle the score once and for all.
 

MiharuAya

Memento Mori
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
Online Availability
My timezone is PST
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Futanari
Genres
Homosexual, Romance, Fantasy, Scifi, Magic, Vampire, Werewolf, Supernatural, Angels/Demons, Superhero, Zombies
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Don't Go Near the Water
Location:
Pool
Collaborative Post For:
Cyrus X Leo

“Maybe I do—or you’re just not that good looking, Narcissus.” Cyrus said simply. Tilting her head to the side. Eyes combing over his form. Cocking a brow.

Did he really think he’d impress her? It left her wondering about what the male species thought was attractive. Had she missed something—or was it another thing wrong with her.

“That's impossible,” Leo responded with a hint of sarcasm, a languid hand waved through the air dismissing her claims. “Everyone has said I am gorgeous,” A cheeky smirk pulled at the corners of his lips.

The nickname caused the playful smile to dim, his lips pulling into a pout as he feigned offense. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He grumbled before dropping the teasing act. “My body is sculpted like a Greek god.” His thin arms reached up, flexing his muscles dramatically.

Cyrus couldn’t even surpass the eye roll. If they could pull back into her head—they would have. “I call you a narcissist and you take it as a compliment…” Her tone was a biting one. Once more her eyes looked over his lean frame. “The Greek Gods are on the football team…” she confided dryly.

The tone of her words did little to thwart Leo’s lighthearted mood. Even if she was trying to hurt him, these sort of direct insults wouldn't wound his pride. Instead, he continued with his vivacious attitude. “You got me there,” He admitted with a laugh. “They are hella fine.” As he lowered his arms, he relaxed while slowly kicking his legs through the water.

“You got a fave?” Leo asked his eyebrow lifting curiously. His habit of always engaging in gossip, and wanting to know everyone's business was unsavory. Yet, whenever the urge would rise inside, he never seemed to repel it.

Once more, her attention was pulled from Ivy. This guy, Leo… Seemed like he was close to being a certified manwhore. All his flirtations were lost at this moment. She combed her fingers through knotty stands, Cyrus teased the strands free.

Tired eyes drew to the boy again. A startled laugh and choked scoff. “I highly doubt that,” gazing back at the water. Cyrus’s tone dropped at the end, turning into something almost choked out. Contorted brows pinched at her forehead as she thought about the messy state was in. Legs moving around in the water. Slow. She lost herself in the feeling of the water rushing and moving past her legs.

“You won't know till you try it,” Leo’s voice was smooth as he casually leaned back onto his palms. It was rare that someone would resist his charms, but Leo was still having a good time. Even if she was playing hard to get, it was fun to trade verbal blows, even more than just simply flirting.

“I feel like the thrill of a bleach cocktail is more delightful,” she forgot to add it would have been notably more effective too. Calmly her lips pursed together. Staring at the water. Listening for the splashes of people diving into the pool. The circles under her eyes were profound and looked like bruises. There were few burns visible on her thighs and sunkissed form. The girl was a fiery storm of raw untouched emotions. Scorn and anger. Pushed onto the wrong person.

The morbid reply seemed fitting. Even if Leo disregarded the visible bruises and scars, Cyrus was surrounded by a sort of gloomy aura. It was a sight that tugged at even Leo’s walled-off heart. But, it was a topic which he would ignore, just as he did with his own issues. After all, making jokes and playing dumb was all he ever knew. “That sounds nasty. I prefer my drinks with vodka.”

There was a small huff from the girl. “So you prefer window cleaner,” she admitted in a dry tone. Taking in the lean form beside her. Everything about him made her think of a Beach Boys song. Floaty and groovy. It had her stuck on why he was talking to a mess like her.

“Why are you flirting with me?” Cyrus asked, visibly confused.

Leo paused in thought at the question. It wasn't something that he had spent much time considering. Just as everything else he did, he did it because it was fun. It was also a chance to find a partner, which was equally pleasurable. Did there have to be a deeper meaning?

As he lifted his gaze he replied, “No real reason.” His tone was unsure. “You caught my eye, so I wanted to talk to you,” He glanced to the side towards Cyrus with a cool expression. “I guess, it's fun?” Leo flashed a wide grin, running his fingers through his blond hair.

Cyrus looked at Leo in a bland way. “Fun?” She didn’t understand how anything about flirting could be fun. Seemed like a whole lot of effort for her. “I don’t get what’s fun about it…” combing through mad tangles of wavy brown hair. She snagged a few knots and yanked them free.

Leo watched the other for a moment, his mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. Even though he hardly knew Cyrus, there was a piece of him that felt sympathy for her. Just looking over her body, it was obvious that she had been through something terrible.

“Hey,” He spoke finally. “How about we blow this popsicle stand.” A bright grin spread across his face as he pulled his legs out of the pool and prepared to stand. “I got some real fun stuff in my room.” With his pointer and middle finger making a sideways peace sign, he mimicked the movement of smoking.

As Leo stood, he offered his hand to the other. “What do you say, doll?”

 

Bubs

twinkle twinkle little bat
INTERN MODERATOR
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light
  2. Multiple posts per day
  3. 1-3 posts per day
  4. One post per day
  5. 1-3 posts per week
  6. One post per week
Online Availability
Currently throughout the day to late at night... Haven't got any work at the moment.
Writing Levels
  1. Give-No-Fucks
  2. Intermediate
  3. Adept
  4. Advanced
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Female
  2. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Fantasy, Fandom, Original Plots, Romance, Historical, Modern, Hero Based and Drama
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Lauren Harrison
DAYDREAMER - AURORA
Location:
newspaper club room
Interactions:
dawn @neptune
Lauren was a whirl of over-stimulation in the room. Everything was going on around her. Lighting was those hollow tube lights, which gave her a headache. Thoughts bottled in her mind. Her head was just too loud at the moment and it lead her to be unfocused. Dumbly she watched Dawn's lips move before the words registered, a silly animated nod following.

"Yes," she smiled a little lopsided. "I've rewritten it four or five times. Used the last of that nice paper I got last Christmas." Lauren said in a soft burr. Reaching up to rub the back of her head. Flinching at a tender spot she touched in the process. "Sure, that's alright. My writing is awful anyway." She knew because she'd been told a lot.

"They did like the use of fancy words in that story," Laurie admitted in a light tone of voice. Lauren offered her glasses when the hand came out. Almost knowing the gesture by heart. From all the mean boys breaking her glasses and her being too scared to stand up for herself.

"I mean, I'm not able to see without them. They're my only pair, plus I have tut-" Laurie then startling straightened her back. "Oh shoot! I'm going to be late for my tutoring with Ash..." She grew bright red in the face. Thanking Dawn in a light tone of voice before slipping her glasses back on for the moment. Darting out of the newspaper club room, not without hitting the door on the way out.

 
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Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
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BLOOD TRAIL
Location:
florence hall (feyre's room)
collaborative post for:
avery x ewan
Communicating with Avery always left a sour taste in Ewan's mouth. There was no room on the other boy's notepad to be snappy, no line-space for wit; only facts. It was as though the Provider had taken Avery's entire essence when he stripped him of his voice. It was just another reason to frown on top of Fey's untimely disappearance.

The sound of scribbling stopped and Ewan's gaze fell away from the suspicious blue dress and back to Avery's notes. "Or who," he suggested, inclining his head a bit. "There was someone in the halls that night. I saw," but he stopped short of saying Cyrus' name, choosing to honor her request to remain invisible. "I don't know. Something. A fight, maybe."

Another frown crossed his handsome expression as Ewan turned and began to ruffle beneath the pillows on Fey's bed. There had to be a diary, a planner, something to keep her busy schedule in order. "I was in the woods before that. It felt wrong," he continued to speak, casting aside the down-stuffed pillows as he shook the comforter. "You know, there was an eyeball on the grounds. I hope it's not...Ah!"

A black, leather-bound ledger, imprinted with Fey's initials and the Abernathy family crest could, quite literally, crack the case wide open. "Damn. Locked," he sighed, giving the binding a half-hearted tug before offering it to Avery.

It should have been an exciting discovery, but Avery only felt disappointment. It was too easy. What good was a puzzle if the answers would only get handed to him?

After some hesitation, Avery took the ledger and began prying the binds. As he worked, he realized that perhaps he should have said something to Ewan, maybe offered his condolences, or whatever it was that people normally did in a situation like this. But it wouldn’t have been genuine. Avery would miss Feyre, true, but her death had been fortunate, all things considered.

And now, things were finally happening.

When the binder didn’t budge, Avery handed the ledger back to Ewan. He hung his head, feigning defeat but suppressing a smile all the while. The ledger was likely a manifestation.

Where was the party? Avery wrote, We can retrace her path, find more clues.

It was a question he already knew the answer to, but it would have been too suspicious not to ask. Avery had not been invited, after all.

The book kept Fey's secrets. For now. Ewan accepted the ledger and tucked it under his arm with every intention of smashing it open with a rock later on. He squinted at Avery's question, part of him wondering why the boy was being so helpful and the other, quieter half, grateful that someone was there to help at all. After all, none of them were raised to rely on one another; life was a competition, and with Fey gone, there was one less Abernathy in line to claim the Provider's throne.

"The family hall," he answered, "one of the old classrooms."

Taking one more look around the room, Ewan pushed down whatever soft nostalgia that had risen up in him before striding toward the door. He motioned for Avery to follow with a snap of his fingers, like he would to a dog, "come on. We can come back here later if we need to, but we're not going to find anything standing around."

(TO BE CONTINUED)
 

Kuno

Django Jane
INTERN MODERATOR
DONATING MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Prestige
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy, Sci fi, Romance, Historical, Modern, Supernatural
FONT 1FONT 2FONT 3
HUNTER NOLAN
I ain't no joke - Eric B & Rakim
Location:
south lane
Interactions:
jordan lynch @Adrian benji @Vinn jasper @Ghostly Boo

An accident. That’s what he said. An accident. Like anything about that school, its students, them, and the Founding Kids - hell, why not throw that night in the woods in, too? - was a damn accident. An accident? He wanted to laugh in Jordan’s face.

A vat of ice held more warmth than his smile.

“Yeah, sure, kid. Sorry - I guess they forgot their hoods.” The acid dripping from his words was enough to melt flesh. “Fuck you.”

There was a building anger in him. Not just from the “accidental” bodily contact and the reappearance of Jordan; the accusation against Benji and Jasper hung in the air, flimsy though it may have been, and Hunter felt his hackles raise. These were his friends.

Fortunately, the Mad Dog was leashed. Benji had bodily blocked him from pursuing further contact, and Jasper’s hand held his left shoulder like an anchor. He didn’t know if he was more impressed or angry at their silent co-op on him. As Jordan left, Hunter eyed the both of them in stony silence before swatting Jasper’s hand off him.

“Coach said I’m off the team if I get in any more fights,” Hunter said. “So relax. I’m not fighting a guy over a bumped arm.”

Even still, his eyes lingered on Jordan’s retreating form a bit longer than necessary. He wanted to go, say, have a conversation with him, but he knew better than to try to break off from his companions. Smelling trouble, they would just follow him regardless.

Another day, then.

 

Ghostly Boo

Edgepeasant
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THE TERRIBLE TRIO
Location:
text
Collaborative Post For:
Rosa x Zeke x Amber

Ezekial hadn’t even seen the little shrimp he knocked over in the newspaper room. His mind was a whirling with the insolace of the little slut, Dawn Venture.

Rashly he combed his hand through his hair. Slicking back any fly aways that could have ruined his perfectly poised appearance. Yet, his thoroughly crumpled shirt had already done some damage.

"~sweet that he's trying this much already."

Instantly, Zeke’s posture which had formerly slouched straightened. His gaze sharpened at the buzzing little white noise that was Amber Hart. Before the smirk tugged at the corned of his lips. Devising a new plan in mind. “Amber, dear. You're dreaming about the boy who’s beneath you again.”

The girls love sick smile immediately turned dark. "Oh, it's you," she said cooly. "Spouting rubbish as usual."

He cocked a bored brow at her cold manner. “And you’re watering a garden of hopes and dreams.” His words were curt and cool.

Rosa couldn't help the small chuckle that fell from her lips, her gaze shifting between the two of them, "Its always a pleasure to see you, Ezekial-" she cooed, "the two of you are as friendly as ever."

“A pleasure, as always… Rosabel?” Zeke tilted his head to the side looking at the impeccable creature behind the rather pretty lost cause. The tone entirely implying he didn’t really remember her name, what-so-ever.

Amber looped an arm through Rosa's, dragging her gaze down Zeke's figure. She hid her irritation behind a smile. "You look dreadful, no wonder you're being extra catty today, did you forget your glass of milk this morning as well?"

Amused, Rosa tightened her arm around Ambers, letting her head lull onto her shoulder with a rather devious grin, "meow~"

“I prefer my pussies purring,” Zeke smirked crudely. Dragging his eyes slowly over both girls. Totally ignoring the comment made by Amber. Knowing it would rail her up even more if he didn’t engage.

Amber pressed a hand to her lips, holding in her laugh. "It's cute how highly he thinks of himself isn't it," she mused to Rosa.

"In all honesty," Rosa added, content to stay where she was, "I find the interactions between you both to be rather adorable."

Amber rolled her eyes. "Hilarious."

"Anywho, as delightful as this chat hasn't been, I have things to do," she said decidedly, slipping her arm from Rosa's.

"As have I,” Zeke finally said in a mere state of gruffness. Straightening his shirt. “I’ve had my run of vexing women for the day,” he gave Amber a look. Then shot another at Rosa. “Do ring that little bell of yours, if you tire of this one.” Ezekiel calmly turned on his heel. Beginning to stroll away.

Amber's eyes threatened to roll permanently into her skull. He pressed all the wrong buttons.

She really couldn't help the fact she found it to be rather funny whenever Ezekial and Amber met. It was a battle of words, attempting to see who would tire first, "Be sure to have fun vexing someone else, Ezekial".

After all, it was the best activity.

Turning to Amber, she smiled fondly, "don't fret Amber, I'm sure Ezekial is just jealous or something of the sorts."

“Jealous?” He drawled, head lolling back as it took effort to look at them. “You truly believe I would be jealous of the girl’s fantasies?”

"How cruel…" Rosa couldn't say much though, she enjoyed spurring on her friends fantasies, as he called it. Did she feel bad sometimes? Maybe, yet clearly not enough to stop her own behaviour. "Is it not what is considered playground behaviour - being cruel to mask ones jealousy?" she mused, only to shake her head after.

"I don't know you well enough to say if your attention upon Amber is out of jealousy or the opposite. If my comment offends you, then please accept my apologies, it was not meant in such a way"

"He's not worth the apologies, he can go attend to his bruised ego now," Amber said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. As she headed in the other direction.

Zeke had already walked away at this point. Tired of the dry sarcasm from the ladies in the hall. Picking at his ear, he flicked a bit of wax at the floor. Discarding it like the entire conversation had in that hallway. It wasn’t worth any remembrance, after all.
 
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Vinn

Edgepeasant
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A TOOTH FOR A TOOTH
Location:
lonely tree
Collaborative Post For:
Alistair x Lucida


PART II.


“I don’t want to make nice. I’m telling you to watch your tongue, since all it ever does is start trouble,” he said, his voice rising with every word as old grudges floated back to the surface. A twig snapped under Alistair’s shoe as the boy drew closer, his eyes a stormcloud of grey. “I don’t suppose you remember what happened the day Feyre went missing? She talked back to the Provider, showing such blatant disrespect. Your influence, no doubt.”

“What then?” Luc snapped, shooting the Blackbourne boy a glare. “Always. You always want to keep silent and just watch, huh. You’re always so righteous, but you do absolutely fucking nothing.” She resisted the urge to step back. He drew closer -- a storm of grey that looked so familiar and dreadful. Luc scoffed, “You look just like him, you know.”

Something changed in Alistair’s expression. If it had been hostile before, it was nothing compared to now. He glared back at her, gritting his teeth, and for a moment it looked as if he might raise a hand to hit her. But he didn’t. Instead, Alistair clenched his fists.

“Someday, you’re going to wish you listened to me,” he murmured bitterly, looking away to hide his shame. Then, he saw it: the eye, peeking from underneath the foliage.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Tugging at his handkerchief, Alistair bent down, gingerly scooping the eye from the ground to better inspect it. It felt gross, even through the fabric, and for a moment, Alistair looked almost as green as the grass.

The eye had not decomposed at all. If anything, it looked as if it had been gouged out of somebody’s skull mere moments ago, though there was no blood.

“I found it,” he informed Lucida, but not with any triumph. He had expected remains, maybe a corpse… but not this.

This changed everything.

It was all sickening to Lucida. She stared at the thing in the palm of his hand, the knot in her stomach tightening. Ever since The Provider conjured smoke from outside the forest, she felt at a loss.

In response to the absurd, Lucida laughed. She hated surprises.

“Who.. do you suppose it was?” She asked, picking the eye from his handkerchief and holding it up towards the sun. She studied it, closing one eye to stare back at its lifeless gaze.

“The more important question is, who created it?” Alistair murmured from behind her.

“What stunning work.” She whispered, that was.. If it were an artifact of the forest.

Alistair frowned. Was it the work of the Council? The Provider? Perhaps, one of their own?

Was it a local gone astray?

Whatever the case, he had a bad feeling about the eyeball, and whoever it was that owned it.

“We should hold a meeting tonight,” he said. “Go ahead and inform the others. In the meantime, I’ll report to the Council, see if they know anything.”

He began to turn away, but then hesitated at the last second.

“Do you think--” he started, refusing to meet her eyes. “Will you actually kill him?”

“I have no other choice.” She said, tucking her new object of fascination into a plastic.

Luc stepped into his line of sight, meeting his gaze. “But I’ll make sure of it.”

Quickly, she turned away and waved behind her. “Bye now.”

 
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DANAsaur

obsessed and lonely
Invitation Status
  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. Multiple posts per week
  3. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
Genres
fantasy, modern, magical, romance, libertine
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Aoife Sheridan

Location:
Cafeteria
Interactions:
Serena (@Ghostly Boo)

Aoife rolled her eyes at Serena's response. It seems her little theory was correct. The heiress of Blackbourne was indeed insecure. "Oh, come on." Aoife chided with a scoff, appalled and annoyed at the same time.

She gave Serena an appraising look. The girl looked fine! Granted, if Aoife had her way, she would tweak a few things to make Serena's physical appearance better. Tweeze her brows. Wax the upper lip. Maybe minimize the carbs. But overall, Serena looks fine!

"You look passable for the pool," Aoife continued, yet her saccharine smile began to go sour. "but if you don't want to hang out with me, just say so. There's no need to make fake excuses.."

Aoife then stood up from her seat, not bothering to clear her table. "Anyway, I'm so glad we had this talk. Come find me when you stopped acting like an annoying little bitch, okay?"

And with that, Aoife walked out.


 
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