polarisricki

[polarisricki]

polarisashley​:

“Honestly, and I say this with all my fucking heart,” Shiloh begins, words muffled as she tries to hold a cigarette securely between her lips while she pulls her hair back into a ponytail, “you’re kind of being a piece of shit today.” Karma is quick; the hair tie snaps in half and falls to the ground. Shiloh grunts, plucks the cigarette from her mouth, and expels a steady cloud from her lungs. “I’m gonna unfollow you on Instagram if you don’t get your shit together.” 

“Do it, you’ll miss me when I’m gone.” And, for the record, Indie is pretty much always a piece of shit. She tilts a glare at Shiloh. “And that’s rich coming from you. You’re pretty much the reigning piece of shit champion.”

[polarisricki]

polarisashley​:

Carmen nods, solemn, and brings her hands up to cup Mathieu’s face in a soft, tender gesture. “You are, Baby. I have met many people, and can confirm that you are an idiot.” She pats his cheek and withdraws her grip. “But you’re hot, and you handle it with confidence, so frankly I think you’re okay.” She leans back and crosses her arms. “But, for the sake of the argument, why are you coming to this realization?” 

“You always know how to make a man feel good,” Matty deadpans, though there’s nothing to stop the smile from spreading on his face. “Thank you, I appreciate that. And,” he sighs, “the Ursas sat me down for another ‘if you keep trying to prank the mayor, we will have to send you to actual prison’ talk and apparently, I’m running out of warnings. Who even knew that was a thing?”

[polarisricki]

polarisleigh​:

from: Amara Willoughby <amara.willoughby@polaris.edu> to: Olympia timestamp: September 02, 2020 at 07:45pm subject: Re: My sweetest sympathies and heartfelt regrets.

Olive,

Two things.

One, get a vibrator. Two, don’t email me again.

Mara

from: Olympia Eun <ollie.eun@polaris.edu> to: Amara timestamp: September 02, 2020 at 08:51pm subject: Re: My sweetest sympathies and heartfelt regrets.

Amara,

Darling ––– you really think I don’t have house full of sex toys?

Yours,

Olympia.

[polarisricki]

polarisleigh​:

“I’m telling you that you need to leave.” This shit was Edward’s responsibility, why was it now his problem to try and get rid of visitors? “And I’ll walk you out, to make sure that you actually go.” He wants to ask her what she’s looking for, considering he thinks he’s just caught her trying to rob him, but Alaric’s wondering why he doesn’t feel like she’s a threat.

A stranger, yes, but not a threat.

“Shall we?”

Marinette throws her hands up in surrender, knowing well enough when the game is over. She opens her mouth to ask why he thinks she’d stay, but serious Alaric is never any fun and she’s not about to invite conversation that she can’t warm her way out of with jokes and sass. So she heaves a sigh and steps out of the closet, muttering curses beneath her breath, switching between several languages in the span of one sentence.

[polarisricki]

polarisashley​:

Winnie doesn’t know what she’s angrier about—the fact that her favorite DM let a new player join their campaign to begin with, the fact that said newcomer has a character that keeps trying to fuck her fighter (if she has to hear one more joke about rolling for a successful pickup attempt, they’re all going to die), the fact that she’s not allowed to kill him for some ridiculous reason, or, in a new turn of events, the fact that Chao is suggesting that she needs to calm down. She stops her pacing, turns, and leans forward with her palms flat against the table in front of her. “First of all, I’m not about to hyperventilate. That’s an inaccurate assessment of my rant.” Winnie squints. “Second of all, this idiot is ruining the one thing I look forward to each week, but I’ll get kicked out if I kill him, and I really want to—” She’s getting worked up again. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath. “The point is, I need someone else to kill this guy for me. In the name of feminism.”

At the mention of killing someone, Chao’s head snaps up again, unseeing eyes shooting in Winnie’s direction. “Do you want me to kill him? Because I will.” Murder, her father would say, is not the way of our family. But considering she ran away from her family, she’s not too worried about what her dad’s going to think. Interest piqued, Chao blindly sticks a bookmark between pages and shuts the book, pushing it aside and crossing her arms on the table. “How do you want me to do it? Crushed under rocks? Buried alive? But up to his neck so that a car inevitably runs him over and decapitates him?” That one sounds a little gross and risky, but Chao’s up for a challenge.

[polarisricki]

polarisashley​:

“Ah, Auriga.” Temperance was not fond of the former Aurigas she’s encountered, though she supposes it has most to do with the constellation’s tendency toward choosing good, optimistic individuals, who she doesn’t tend to get along with normally. Still, it’s no reason to automatically turn the girl away. As Ophelia gets closer, Temperance gives her a slow once-over, as though sizing her up.

“Ms. Red.” Ophelia’s theory does make Tempe bark out a laugh, and she turns in a single, sweeping motion to lead the way into the house, assuming the girl will follow suit. “Chenery’s never done a useful thing in her life—it’s no wonder.” If Temperance has met Matilda more than a handful of times, it’s been wholly unremarkable.

Though she parts to the kitchen to freshen up her drink, she sweeps a hand in the direction to the living room. “You can sit anywhere. How do you take your gin?”

She’s not sure if mentioning Professor Chenery was the right more or the wrong one. The last thing she wants is to sow discord, but Professor Chenery hasn’t been able to help. And despite what Ms. Red seems to think, it’s not her fault, it’s because Ophelia is every kind of failure in the book and whatever was good and hopeful in her is dying by the day.

She takes the proffered seat, hesitating at the mention of gin. Despite all of her attempts to make Liam let her drink, she’s never really had anything. She’s had a mimosa here and there, but gin definitely isn’t the same thing and stars, maybe listening to Auriga was a bad idea. “...Dealer’s choice,” she eventually says, because she doesn’t know where else to go with that.

[polarisricki]

polarisashley​:

Ah, Cori. Currently, the girl of Mimi’s dreams, although that’s always a fleeting thought based solely around who can help her most at any given time. “Excellent to meet you.” It’s said with a tinge of there’s a catch, because with Mimi, there’s always a catch. “Do you think you can apparate us to the Pentagon? There’s someone in particular who I’d like to have definitive proof of the fact that they’re a piece of shit, and I think you’re my best bet. I can pay you.”

The Pentagon, Cori mouths, a little more amused than she has any honest right to be. “You don’t have to pay me,” she says, as if that’s the problem with breaking into a government facility. “I might miss my next class... but that’s okay.” Because Cori’s a people pleaser, she tucks her books into her bag and throws Mimi a smile. “I don’t condone this, but as long as we aren’t hurting anyone, I don’t see a reason to say no.”

[polarisricki]

polarisleigh​:

No one should be at their best with her, but Kellan is.

Sage pretends that doesn’t affect them, even though it’s something… confusing. They glance up at him, almost as if they can’t believe this is real, but in a way, it’s not. Kellan is so confusing. It makes their head hurt.

“It’s quiet here,” Sage replies with a shrug, as if the spirits will hear them and then start to bother them here, too. “They can’t scream at me here, and I can tune them out. But I don’t mind the human company. Not a fan of the dead ones.”

They pause, almost afraid of the answer. “Why are you here?”

Kellan hums, understanding the need for quiet. Being alive is... loud, in a way that he never noticed until he experienced the other side of things. And the peace can be addicting. He supposes that’s a dangerous mentality. 

“It’s quiet here,” he echoed in response to her question. That wasn’t exactly why he’d come here, but it was an answer, nonetheless.

[polarisricki]

polarisleigh​:

Sage scoffs. Typically she’d just give him the deadpan answer, but her guard is let down a little more, here. She can inflict damage, she can cause harm, and the spirits know better than to offend her. Wise of them, really. By blatantly displaying affection towards Kellan, she’s not-so-subtly sending them the message that if they touch him, she’ll destroy them without even blinking.

“I’m kind of the mayor, here,” Sage isn’t kidding, but it’s still fun to refer to herself in such a way. “People know better than to bother me.” She pauses, constantly in a battle of revealing too much and not revealing enough at all. “You feeling okay?”

Kellan huffs out a laugh, shaking his head lightly. While it’s hilarious to imagine Sage as the mayor of anything, he can’t deny that they have a point. Daringly, his hand falls from his knee, fingertips grazing the inside of their wrist. There’s a pulse there; it’s threadier now, because they’re not exactly alive, but their heart still beats. They still live and breathe and their skin still has a bit of warmth beneath his touch.

He breathes easier.

“I’m with you,” he says, instead of any sort of rational answer. “That’s when I’m at my best.” And it’s a little too honest, even though Sage never takes a hint, but he’s never lied to them in the first place. “Why are you here?” He asks, curious rather than rude.

[polarisricki]

polarisleigh​:

@polarisricki​

Isn’t this enough?

In the spirit realm, Sage is particularly lonely. Normally, the spirits that surround them are screaming at her to do something, but when they’re in the spirit realm, they actually can, which is perhaps why the spirits are more… silent.

They don’t expect to see Kellan seated underneath a withering tree, looking stupidly handsome like he doesn’t belong, and he doesn’t. It’s a surprise to Sage, who didn’t think these meet ups in the spirit world will continue. They wonder what this means in terms of Kellan’s soul, but it’s a vague wondering– no matter what, he’s stuck with her.

Panic sometimes sinks in when they see him here, almost as if he’s been murdered and they’ve missed it.

What would be enough?

“Fancy running into you on this side of the veil,” Sage miffs, taking a seat beside him under the tree. Willow, they think, and there is a faint sound of weeping. Sage slides down the trunk so that their head comes to rest on Kellan’s shoulder. Corporeal. That’s good. That means he still has a body. “Anyone try to bother you?”

Kellan doesn’t feel the willow tree pressed behind his back, but that’s probably due more to the dissociation rather than being, at least on some level, dead.

And he knows he’s not dead-dead, because he hasn’t blown up in a couple of weeks, and he’s only died the once. So, no, his slipping into the spirit realm is a consequence of dissociation –– something he tries his damnedest not to do often –– and not the consequence of him doing something stupid that would make Sage’s life harder.

Speaking of Sage–––

His eyes slip over to them half a beat too late and they’re already leaning their head on his shoulder. Any other day, he’d rejoice at the feeling, at the crumb of affection, might even be daring enough to let his lips graze their forehead and hope they didn’t kill him. But for the moment, he only lets the corner of his mouth twitch, some distant cousin of a smile, and turns his gaze back into the dislocated world stretched out before them. 

“No,” he answers honestly, because this isn’t a result of anyone bothering him or anything, it’s just one of those days. His eyes drop down to her knee, for no particular reason other than wanting to see her. “You?”

[polarisricki]

polarisashley​:

Galatea has become Henriette’s temporary office, though Carmen had given her shit for spreading herself across two tables every morning; the argument dropped when she left a hefty tip on the table at the end of day 1, and she’s been enjoying sandwiches and suspiciously strong cappuccinos every day since. But her cushy time kicking her feet up is quickly running out now that her real agenda is set.

She finds herself there, still, wasting time kicking around some low priority emails. Henry’s lips press tight together as she works up the will to do her actual job. After a moment, she turns in her chair to disrupt someone at a nearby table. “Hey. I’ll buy you another coffee if you give me a tour of campus. But, like, a good tour of campus.” Henry doesn’t want a map. She wants something of substance to get her started. “I’ll even throw in a doughnut if you answer some questions.”

The coffee and donut clatter to the ground, scolding brown liquid splashing against her bare legs. Wren has the heel of her thumb caught between her teeth before she’s even aware of it, stifling a scream, vision blurring with tears –– whether she’s crying from the burn or the humiliation, it’s still up in the air. She waits for it all to pass, for the world to right itself, unaware of how harshly her teeth dig into her hand. With the gloves on her hand, they don’t pierce flesh, but she imagines them doing so, drawing blood that seeps into her mouth, coating her teeth red. She fucked it all up again. All she had to do was walk in a straight li–––

Gentle fingers pry her hand from her mouth. Freya, who’d been in the process of accepting the woman’s invitation, now stands in front of Wren, muttering a quiet spell to heal up the burns on her legs. Wren’s cheeks burn with fresh embarrassment, but the blonde waves it off before it can arise. “You’re fine,” she mutters, lips pulling into a small smile. She’s getting better at that. “Why don’t you give the tour? I can clean this up. I still have something to work on.” And it’s nothing more than a chance to escape the eyes that are now on Wren, she knows that, but she accepts it as it is, nodding with red cheeks and downcast eyes.

As Freya steps around her to gather napkins and clean up the mess, Wren wrings her hands in front of her and meets the eyes of the woman who’d asked Freya for a tour. Wren should’ve said no; she should’ve let Freya do this. But Freya’s already disappeared in search of a roll of paper towel and no one else is stepping up to the plate and–––

It’s not this complicated, Wren, just speak.

“Hi,” she says, taking careful steps towards the woman, doing her best not to be the klutz that she is. “I, um... I–– I’m Wren. D–– um, d... do you still want the, um, the–– the tour?”

[polarisricki]

polarisashley​:

Charlotte’s lips curl up into a grin at Luca’s easy acceptance, the framework of some kind of excitement now laid out before her; though she often prefers the company of herself with rare, notable exceptions (Christian, Lana), Luca’s whole essence makes this feels like a natural choice. “Nova’s has too many people, but I like the core of it—we could always drink in the Astronomy tower.” Low stakes, simple, but Charlie thinks if anyone could make it not boring, it’d be Luca. “Unless you have any regular haunts outside of the village, that is. I’ll admit I haven’t had the chance to explore much, so my scope is limited.”

Charlie, Luca notices with a bit of gay distress, has a gorgeous smile. Luca finds her own grin spread a little, leaning onto the chair, then back, rocking from heel to toe as her thoughts circle towards her usual hiding places. “If you’re looking for peace and quiet, let’s start with the tower,” she advises, because stars know Luca’s typical crowd is far from calm and peaceful. Bes aside, Luca drifts towards people who are just as open and dauntless as she is. (And now there’s Charlotte.) “Or, depending on how you feel about the water, I can show you my ship. Well,” she amends with an eye roll, “this one isn’t mine. But it’s abandoned and I’m the only one who knows where it is, so it’s kind of mine.” With a gleam in her eye, Luca tacks on, “I haven’t even told Bes about it yet.” She’ll write him a letter of apology sooner or later.

[polarisricki]

polarisleigh​:

“Oh!” Emmett sighs in relief, as he very much did not want to forget Ginger’s birthday, because making her feel special was always on his to-do list. Even if he was total shit at it. “No, no, I love– I love cupcakes! I was just worried that I, um, had forgotten your special day. I… tend to forget things.”

Ginger shrugs, unbothered by the thought of it. “Like I said, I lost a lot of memories. It’s no big deal! But it’s very sweet of you to be worried.” She hands the cupcakes over to him with a large smile, angelic and unaffected as always. “I’ll ask Sage when my birthday is, then I’ll make a note so that neither of us can forget it.”

[polarisricki]

polarisashley​:

Ellis’ lips press together as she nods, quickly, which is the least convincing thing she’s ever done. “Yes, well—I either need you or to borrow your wand, I suppose.” And, with a quick look around to ensure no other students are nearby who can freak out, she opens the door behind her again, peaks in, and ushers him in. “Don’t be weird about it,” she cautions, even though she’s definitely being weird about it.

“You’re being weird about it,” he murmurs, even as he slips his wand from his belt and holds it out to her. Maybe any other time, he would take this as his cue to leave and come back for his wand later; but something about her demeanor makes him stick around, risking another glance at the door and wandering what the hell is behind it. “Should I, er, get... help?”

[polarisricki]

polarisashley​:

She pauses; although Mimi Ritter is not someone she chooses to spend any time with, if she can help it, from everything she has gathered… “Yes, actually. I think that would turn out quite well for you.” Charlotte makes herself comfortable, slipping her shoes off and propping her feet up on the edge of his bed, feeling the tension release from her shoulders for the first time in days. Christian has always been her safe space as it is. “Considering I still have Columba, I’d say she’s just fine.” Her nose crinkles. “She just made me mad. And normally I just walk away, but this time I just… couldn’t. It was stupid.”

Christian throws his arms in the air, mildly victorious. He’s used his body for less noble purposes and with less trustworthy sex. He makes a mental note to offer himself up as a sacrifice to Mimi at some point, and leans back to snag another bite of pizza. Listening to her explanation about Harper, Christian nods slowly, processing the information slowly but certainly. By the time she finishes speaking, he’s polished off his slice of pizza and wiped the grease off on his pants. “I mean, that doesn’t sound stupid. It just sounds like you were cursed. Or maybe you reached your limit at a bad time. And I’m sure Harper realizes it wasn’t personal. Have you talked to her since it happened?”

[polarisricki]

polarisashley​:

“A judge. You still got the outfit? ‘Cause we could always…” Atticus’ mind wanders, for a moment, trying to imagine if she’d be hot in one of those robes. The answer is probably, but it’s not enough for him to fixate on, unless she wants to hit his balls with a gavel. That’s a completely different story. Anyway, he’s a lot more focused on what’s within their reach now, which is… well, still sex, but likely without the gavel. “Do you have a gavel?” Maybe with the gavel. Anyway. “I think fucking in bathrooms is a cliché, and the lighting makes my dick look smaller than it is, so I’m thinking—ah. Right, I have a job now.” He uses the term job loosely, but that means he does have a key. Standing, Tic offers his hand out to Porphyria. “We’ll have sex on Nesta’s desk. She won’t mind.” (She’ll definitely mind.)

Porphyria’s brow ticks and her smile stretches, wide and indulgent and downright sinful. “I have the robe, a gavel and a pair of handcuffs I snatched off a cop once.” And she shouldn’t be so quick to admit to one of the few crimes she’s ever committed, but it’s hard to be around Atticus and not admit to such debauchery. And she’s fairly certain that Nesta will take issue with them having sex on her desk, but Porphyria has pissed off worse people, so she slips her hand into his and rises to her feet in one graceful motion. “Lovely idea.”

[polarisricki]

polarisleigh​:

He takes her careful avoidance of his argument as a win, thank you very much! Like father, like daughter! Stubborn!!!!

“You were looking for your friend… in a closet,” Alaric muses, tilting his head to the side. “Well, there’s some psychological trauma that I don’t really want to unpack. However, since you are not a Polaris student and you won’t show me any kind of ID, I’m going to have to ask you to leave campus.”

“Haven’t we already been over this?” It feels natural to tack ‘dad’ onto the end of that sentence, but she’s careful not to do that. “If you’re asking, then I have every right to refuse.” Except she has no desire to be here, reluctance evident in the slight curl to her mouth. She could’ve found Nadia or information or an open gate, for all she cares.

But she can’t stay here. Not when he’s here.

She bares her palms, a sign of surrender. “How do I get out of here? Campus, not your weird closet.” Then, because she is a little shit of a lesbian, “I haven’t been in the closet in decades, I know how to get out of those.”