「 I am sick of haunting myself from within like an old house. 」 juniorjournalismthe priss
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DAVANI.
closed starter for @laracruzs when: tuesday, october 25; early-to-middle of the night where: pool party
“She doesn’t want to see you now. Or at all. And frankly, neither do I. Au revoir, Zachary.” Pulling Lara away from the jock, Parisa didn’t leave her best friend’s side until she was sure he was no longer around. “Honest opinion? You let him off too easy there.” Perhaps a subjective opinion, seeing as Parisa thought Lara deserved the world and nothing less than someone treating her like a queen. Zach had fallen short too many times for her liking. “What happened? Tell me everything.”
-
The mere sound of Parisa’s voice was instantaneous in the way that it simmered the rise to her blood pressure. A silent ‘thank you’ emerging in the subtle crease to her brow, in the way her shoulders dropped as the brunette lured her away. “Let’s just say he’s been persistent,” she sighed, a hand lifting upwards to ease out the tension to her temple. “What is there to say? He’s fine, I guess. When he’s not telling me about how he backpacked across Kilimanjaro and saved a woman from a bear or how he beat the shark in Jaws at a thumb wrestle. And God, his friends? They’re like the jerkiest jerks that have ever jerked.”
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time: ??? location: pool party availability: closed for @aceofportsmouth
Jesus, Lara. Can you just chill for a sec? There is some universal agreement that when someone tells you to calm down, it’s only ever destined to make matters so much worse. It was akin to lighting up gasoline and expecting it to merely simmer. Throwing a match on an inferno and expecting it to come out anew. The initial conversation seemingly unimportant from this point onwards. However, what had been so undoubtedly clear to onlookers, as a select few bore their eyes into the spine of the petite brunette, was how her anger hadn’t just sprouted. It had been deeply rooted overtime, watered by a series of half-hearted apologies and no signs of change. “Are you for real?” Her question comes out scorched at the edges, Zach’s fellow buddies adjoined at the hip - their laughter like a cackle of hyenas. “I thought this was meant to be a pool party, not a zoo.” As if on cue, their faces contorted into a frown; one of which now quick to encroach her space.
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time: ??? location: pool party availability: closed for @court-mills
Do you regret them or not?
The question came with teeth, a sharp ache lodging directly between her shoulder blades. This regret was not a black and white sentiment for the brunette. It had shades of colour - all of which fanned outwards like peacock feathers. Where a ‘yes’ could surface, an ‘although’ is soon to follow. But she’s been tasked with this; forced into abiding by the rules of this cruel game. This inhumanity so akin to Greer she is half-convinced it’s no one other than the blonde at the other end. How could it be?
When she sees him, she stalls momentarily. The back of her hand quick to ease out the knot at the base of her neck. It’s like smoothing out a crease - easing out the guilt. His curly blonde hair far too noticeable amongst a sea of her peers. She approaches somewhat cautiously, a half-moon smile curling across her lips. It seems honey-sweet; a lack of a threat. Not thorns here. “Hey,” she greets, plastic cup tilting between her fingertips. “Can we talk?”
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lara cruz + greer’s birthday outfit.
(also see here.)
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g: i want to know the truth about your past relationships, lara - do you regret them or not? g: i think the person you were with would also like to know, so i dare you to go tell one of them why or why not.
ooc; once the post starting the event goes up on the main, feel free to post your characters dare !!! we can't wait to see how it unfolds....
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FLEABAG (2016 - 2019) Season 1 | Episode 4
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WELLS.
– where: ogden college, baseball field – when: october 20th – who: @laracruzs
Baseball practice was in full swing. Some guys were running drills or throwing the ball around. At first, Booker stood right at the mound, throwing ball after ball into the catcher’s mitt. It never hurts to start training early, and the coach insisted on the best for their season, which apparently involved an interview for the starting freshman pitcher. He’d done plenty in high school, but at Ogden, it was his first shot at school wide acclaim.
“Good luck with your interview, Ace!” His first baseman called to him as he left the field for the bleachers. “Don’t trust the press, no matter how pretty the packaging.” Booker just smiled awkwardly, not really understanding. That guy has the weirdest sense of humor. He sat in the bleachers, watching the guys continue to practice while he waited. Footsteps caught his attention and his eyes widened for a moment. Wow. He quickly stood up, clearing his throat. “Hey there, I’m Booker. Nice to meet you.” He gestures for her to take a seat. “Thanks for coming out. I hope it’s not too far a walk.” He said, dusting off his uniform.
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Now, Lara didn’t typically lead interviews, per say. Her role was to improve grammatical errors, factcheck, ensure articles could actually be published before they ever saw the light of day. All mundane activities in which ensured the school newspaper could circulate. Though it wasn’t particularly unusual for her to fill in for a colleague - it wouldn’t be the last either, she’d presume - there was arguably something about today’s interviewee which unnerved her. Booker Wells, or ‘Ace’ as her fellow cheer squad typically referred to him as, was someone she knew the student body would simply devour if he was divulged within black ink. He could be adored, rivalled, and the most disturbing truth of the matter was how two prominent figures in Lara’s life would only adore him. Her parents. This sentiment alone was enough to leave her barbed. A sharper edge to Lara’s usual candid personality. I’m Booker. I know, she thinks to say but holds it on her tongue nonetheless. Instead, she offers a faint hint of a smile. How cordial. “I’m Lara.” It feels almost forced - a ‘let’s get this over with’ laced somewhere within. When she sits, only then does she observe him fully. He’s easy on the eyes, he’s talented and she’s almost certain he’s smart, too. A perfection capable of rolling her eyes if she so permit it. For now, she slips into this camera-ready, wide-smile, journalist mindset. “My dad’s a baseball player - or was, at least. He’s retired now.”
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HYUK.
.
Looking at Lara, he waited for himself to finally answer, speak, but nothing. He was literally too stunned to speak at the moment, so he just smiled shortly, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly to calm Lara. “Yes.” An answer that was loaded with interpretation, though he decided to elaborate as soon as he uttered that word. “I just wanted to see you, get you away from them.” Again, he’d have to elaborate and did so with a hint of nervousness in his voice, “I just saw how upset you looked, so I had to intervene.”
KJ immediately froze in place as she touched his bow-tie and smoothed it for him. He’d wanted to kiss her then, but didn’t know if doing so would sabotage their neutral relationship and place it back to its former state of negativity. Sighing now, he remembered her father all too well and how difficult it had been to make a good impression. Not that he’d tried to be good to get her father’s approval, but he’d tried to be good for her, first and foremost. Their little curtain area was cozy and small, so he’d all the space he needed to be with her. “I’m this close to losing control,” he confessed in a low voice with himself now softly brushing over her cheek. “But I don’t want to sabotage everything we’re in the process of working through together, but the temptation is there.” he murmured with a grin.
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There was a weakness to the way in which she peered upwards at him, as if her legs were standing on a wooden plank and the rot had eaten its way through. She wanted to mouth something which enticed him further, connect a sequence of words together which would prompt him to step over this blurred line. But sense had come to her and her fingertips had faltered against the fabric. “You can’t,” she speaks finally, a deep sadness wreathed within. We can’t, she thinks. “Having you as my friend is uncomplicated. It’s easier. Anything else and...” Her hands finally fall to her side. Though they tremble still. “I just need a friend right now.” It sounded like a familiar ache. A recognisable swell so fierce within her sternum. This hurt now a sentiment she had since made a home out of. “I wish I could say something else to you.”
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SHAW.
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“Like what?” Nate said, his tone dry, the glare still settled into the lines of his face, not that he was particularly aware of it. It was his expression often enough, that it nearly felt natural at this point. More natural the neutrality sometimes. “You have no idea how hard that is to believe,” he continued with another laugh, the sound still bitter. If Lara had any idea just how little peace he had gotten revolving around her and the torment that she handed out to Keys, she wouldn’t dare to say that. He figured, at least. “And I’m not lying,” Nate said. He fell silent, Lara passing the drink to him, Nate spinning it between his fingers for a moment. He wasn’t lying. Being….left behind was something Nate was used to. Something he expected even. So, yeah, he was fine with it. How could he hold it against someone when he not only understood why they would do it, but supported it? Regardless, he lifted the drink to his lips, downing it in one fell swoop. “Thanks,” he muttered, not looking over at her, his lips turning down into a small frown.
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You have no idea how hard that is to believe.
Lara mirrored his expression almost instantaneously - a momentary surprise morphing into a glare. Although it now felt further emphasised, as if she was reminding him of how his expression was yet to change. “Because I’m known for causing problems?” Even the sound of laughter felt harsh to the ears and she let the comment sit with her. ‘I come in peace’ had landed like some unintentional threat. Dark eyes cast over him, watching as he swallowed back the offering. “Sometimes,” the word comes out with a lull, Lara shifting on her heel to observe Nate wholly. “When people tell you that they mean no harm, they actually mean it. It doesn’t always mean there’s an ulterior motive.” There’s a softness in the way she speaks. “But this whole brooding thing, acting like I’m not just being nice to you, only pushes people away. Or maybe that’s exactly what you want.” The remaining liquor hits her tongue as she speaks, her hands quick to return it to the countertop as she retreats. “Have a nice night.”
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RICHLER.
“– Weed boy?” he parroted back incredulously, trying even harder to not wheeze at that. He could only hope it wasn’t a new horrible nickname starting to circulate for him or something. “Yeah, uh,” he cleared his throat a little, attempting a weak chuckle, “you can just call me Monty. Y’know… if you want.” A shrug as he took one more sip from the water bottle, twisting the cap back on before offering it back to the other. He didn’t want to accidentally wander off with it. “I’ve learned my lesson,” Monty answered sagely, nodding slowly. “It’s walking from here on out for me. Gives me a better chance to take in the sights, anyway.”
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“Yeah,” she nods. “Actually, it’s what the cheer squad refer to you as. There’s like this whole routine. It’s pretty interesting.” Lara feigns sincerity as she speaks, straightening out the smirk which forces its way through. “I’m Lara and I’d shake your hand but... Ew, dude.” The brunette outstretches a hand to retrieve the bottle, an unspoken thanks in the way her mouth curls. “The sights? Is that code for the canteen menu?”
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ZUKO.
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Mari, as an art history major, made a habit of frequenting all of the art exhibitions on campus - she often missed the accessibility of museums and galleries in Boston while she was at school, so these would have to do. Luckily, quite a few of the Ogden art students were quite talented. As she was drifting through the exhibition, the rim of her glass of champagne tapping against her lower lip as she distractedly took it all in. She didn’t even realize it was Lara she was behind, and Lara certainly hadn’t realized she was there - Mari a silent waif moving through the room - the two girls not able to do their typical, well-practiced avoiding of each other. She didn’t say anything, hovering in the awkwardness for a moment before clearing her throat, though Lara had already continued on. “Ew,” Mari said, a knee-jerk reaction as Lara pointed out the phallicness of the painting, nose wrinkling up. Her eyes quickly darted towards the other girl’s, a wry smile crossing her face. “It’s certainly no Georgia O’Keefe,” she murmured.
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“Ew,” she mimicked, an unintentional smile shifting across her own lips. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” The word felt entirely too familiar to her - countless times in which she’d uttered it into her own space. Though hearing it now, falling from someone else’s lips, would only ever trigger amusement to spout from her. “Georgia O’Keefe? Is that... Abstract?” Lara shrugged at the sentiment. “I’m in need of some serious education, my art knowledge is pretty limited.”
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HAYES.
he purses his lips, nodding his head at her explanation as though he was accepting it. “ hm, ” he puts his fingers up to his chin, feigning being lost in deep thought as he looked at the painting in question. “ well let me paint you a picture — no pun intended. ” he finally says with a playful grin as he looks back to lara, “ i see a story of love lost, betrayal, angst and sorrow — but right there at the tip ? ” he says it so seriously, that not even a laugh is uttered out of him. “ that is where new love blossoms. whether that’s finding love in the penis… or the penis helping with self-love. up to interpretation i guess. ” he shrugs, ending his ramble and looking to lara to see her reaction. perhaps a long-winded attempt to cheer someone up who clearly wasn’t in the best mood.
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“I never considered finding love in a penis,” she shrugs. “Maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong.” Almost as slowly as rain trailing down a window pane, a smile curls across her features. It’s a welcomed response - Lara leaning against him now, nudging his shoulder momentarily. “Thank you.” The sincerity settles between them and she pauses for a beat. A hesitation in what she considers next. “I don’t think staring at a penis is for me,” she begins, chin tilting upwards. “Do you wanna get out of here?”
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DAVANI.
.
“You mean like at homecoming?” Parisa asked, rolling her eyes at the fact that Greer actually won despite not being there. No way that many people voted for her even when she wasn’t there, was there? “Yeah, it’s really popular now I think. There’s finally a place that opened up here, so far the reviews are great. We could still support the phallic paintings, but then bail and go get something. I can drive,” she offered, not an uncommon one seeing as Parisa didn’t drink and didn’t mind Lara enjoying herself as much as she’d want to. “There are Korean beef tacos, and I also saw an ancho chili chicken plate with fried rice on the side. There are pork options too,” she encouraged, glad to see that Lara’s mood seemed brighter. “Who were you on the phone with?” The question was asked softly, not wanting to pry but also wanting to support her best friend.
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“I’m still not over that,” she responded, her lips curling upwards at the mere sight of Parisa’s eyeroll. It almost felt perplexing at times - how students could still idolise someone who had tormented her so cruelly. “Wait, does that mean-” a feigned gasp- “endless fruity cocktails? I couldn’t love you more right now.” Liquor to ease the swell of defeat within her was a welcome exchange. The mere mention of menu options now enough to further light the spark within her. “Zach.” Lara retorts without hesitation, a sudden weight to her shoulders as she speaks. “He said he’d be here but... Remind me to never go near another jock again.”
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CRAWFORD.
it was a good choice, dragging his high ass off his bed and making his way towards the ongoing art exhibition — he never really understood art, and how it moved people, so an event like this one would bore him to tears and move him to be the cause of some sort of stirring or chaos. but right now ? he was having a pretty good time, but that also could be drugs pumping through him and his brain right now. so much so, that he didn’t even see lara when he ran right into her.
“ it’s all good. ” he assures with a small laugh, steadying himself again before letting his eyes land on lara — just as her finger began swiping at her bottom eyelid. he turns to look at the painting she gazed on, and lets out a small laugh. “ depending on the circumstance, yeah, phallic can be quite beautiful, huh ? ” he teases, letting his eyes meet hers again. “ — what’s up, lara ? where — where’s your stuff at ? ” he asks, looking around once more. it’s not like they haven’t noticed the negative energy that she carried with her right now, but link chose not to probe. not now, at least.
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“My stuff?” She parroted, a crease forming between her brow. “Oh- I can draw a mean stick figure, d’you think they’d let me participate?” A hint of a smile contorts the previous frown. It’s a quick exchange from her previous expression. “The school paper are doing a piece on the exhibition, so I thought I’d actually see what we’re writing about. I’m also meant to be meeting someone here but-” a huff of air expels from her nostrils- “looks like it’s just you and me, Abe. Lucky you.”
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D’MELLO.
.
He didn’t quite mean to overhear. In fact it was probably the furthest thing from his intention because he didn’t particularly care much for the business of his fellow students. As far as Carew was concerned, he was only there because a professor had offered a little bit of extra credit to go. Little extra credit goes a long way right? At least that’s what Carew intended on telling anyone who asked. Far be-it of him to actually admit to enjoying anything he was seeing. Or to admit that some of the work actually made him feel something. Moved him in the same way he felt when he saw the work of Caspar David Friedrich, or Augusta Savage. Or honestly just when he listened to anything by Fleetwood Mac. But eve’s dropping was hard not to do in such a small space and apparently so was not running into someone as he felt her colliding into him.
“Nah don’t worry about it.” He mused, assuming for the most part that, that would be the end of it until she continued talking and this time it didn’t appear to be into her phone. “They’re alright I guess. I don’t really get some of ‘em.” He shrugged as his eyes scanned the painting in front of them, turning his head to look at what she was referring to as phallic. “I mean I don’t really know what else we could expect from the artists of today. With the whole all art is beautiful mindset.”
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“Subjective, maybe,” she shrugged at the sentiment. “But beautiful? Sounds like a line someone said off the back of a Microsoft Paint stick figure.” Lara observes him for a beat, noting the harsh line of his jawbone. “I saw the tiger piece on the way over here - at least I think it was a tiger - but there was also this whole Abraham Lincoln thing. Might prove that mindset wrong.” Lara’s words trail off at the end, lost beneath the vibrations of her phone. Her eyes descend towards the dimly lit screen and a flurry of notifications - all of which were from one individual.
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WRIGHT.
someone had told him about the art club exhibition, and leaky figured it would be interesting enough to check out. maybe support a friend or two, plus it had been forwarded to him multiple times. if there was an event on campus, no matter how small, leaky somehow found himself there. never really by luck though.
but he’s actually enjoying it, slowly walking down the halls with his hands tucked into his pockets as he observed the art. some of it was really interesting and he was curious about the thought and motivation behind it. some of it was…something. and he’d leave it at that. as he stepped forward after spending a little too much time on an…abstract sculpture? painting? he honestly couldn’t figure it out, when another body collided with him. “whoa, you’re good.” leaky replied automatically before realizing who it was. “oh! hey lara, yea i was actually tryin to figure out what…this was…” he thumbed the exhibit he had just been at. “and yea sometimes the phallic can be…moving?” leaky paused taking a moment to examine her. “you good lara?”
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“Dick drawings make you sad?” She queried, a teasing arch to her brow. Moving was one descriptor - the notion provoking an inner curiosity for the brunette. Lara surveyed him now, her gaze retreating from the piece which had so quickly caught her attention. “I’m great.” The lie felt heavy on the tongue. Too uncomfortable to go unnoticed. “Nothing paintings made by horny college students can’t fix. I saw a pair of huge breasts back there, fancy examining them further with me?”
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