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ellavorer · 4 years

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What did you think...? (1/2)

Okay, so this monster of a fic has been in the works since March and I finally got the inspiration to finish it a few days ago, with me finally finishing it last night.

Now, I was initially apprehensive about writing a vore fic for this fandom because it's a very small fandom. But, if no one else is gonna write vore for them, I will. So, if any normal fans of Family Ties find this on their dashboard, I am so, so sorry.

I might do a Part 2 of this fic if I get a good enough response.

I'd also like to give partial credit to @that-one-fandom-vore-blog, as I took inspiration from a Newsies vore RP we did back in the summer. I also took a little inspiration from their LSOH Shifter!Fic.

If any of you want to watch Family Ties (hope you don't mind me giving you a free commercial), the complete series is on CBS All Access with your subscription. I'm not sponsored (obviously), I just really want you guys to watch Family Ties. Ellen Reed only appears in Season 4 and in the Season 5 finale (because it was actually of a held-back episode from Season 4), but I think she should've become a main character in Season 5.

Okay, so warnings for vore, panic, mention/fear of accidental fatal vore, mention of possible belly kink.

Hope you guys enjoy!

Alex shut the door behind him as he ran into the house. His breathing got more shallow as the seconds passed. He un-did his neck tie in a fruitless attempt to help himself breathe better, but it didn't help.

His stomach continued to growl loudly as he stumbled across the room. He hadn't eaten for... eight hours? Ten? He didn't know. The pangs in his stomach just got worse when he tried to remember how long he had gone without food.

"No, I can't! Not tonight! Not tonight!" Alex shouted as his height began to fluctuate.

He hated being a shifter.

Alex was thirteen when he learned about his... ability. He had missed both breakfast AND lunch that day: breakfast, because all three of the kids were late for school and lunch, because he was too distracted by an extra school assignment he gave himself. One of the held-back eighth graders was bothering Skippy and he had tried to defuse the situation. It was just about to get physical when something in Alex snapped. He felt his height grow until he hit the first floor ceiling of the building and he shoved the eighth grader in his mouth in a nervous attempt to scare him. But the eighth grader kept moving and kicking and fighting, causing Alex's reflexes to kick in and swallow the kid.

He did immediately cough the eighth grader up and a teacher quickly got involved. His parents were called and he spent the rest of the week at home, but he still remembered how awful the next few months were at school. Everyone trying to avoid eye contact with him, the looks on their faces whenever his stomach growled in class, and...

But he couldn't do it tonight. He had promised Ellen that he would--

He didn't have time to think before his height was fully set in his giant form. He cried out in pain when his head hit the ceiling.

I reiterate... he hated being a shifter.

It was a constant meticulous planning of where to go to shift so that it wouldn't flare up at an inconvenient time. He was lucky that his parents and siblings were out of town at the moment.

It was even harder to try to hide it now that he was in a relationship.

How would Ellen react if she knew that he was a monster?

She would leave him, she would... she would...

There was a knock at the door.

"Alex?"

He jolted at the sound of Ellen's voice, causing him to once again hit his head against the ceiling. "Ow!"

"Alex? Are you okay?" Ellen asked from outside.

"Yeah, I'm... m'fine," Alex called.

Of course she had to come now. Well, it was their plan for the night, but the original plan didn't involve his abilities flaring up.

The pain in his chest increased as he saw the door open and Ellen step in.

"St-- stay there! D-- don't come in!" he warned.

Ellen didn't listen as she turned on the lights. Her gaze followed the sound of Alex's voice, her heart leaping in surprise when her eyes finally landed on him.

"Alex?!"

Alex whimpered, curling up as much as he could into the corner. Another hunger pang hit and he rubbed at his stomach in an attempt to calm it. "Y-- you need to leave. Please," he whimpered. "I-- I-- I don't want to hurt you, Ellen."

Ellen's brows furrowed in confusion and concern. She walked closer to Alex, which only added to his anxiousness. "Alex, what happened?" Ellen asked, placing her tiny hand against the back of his hand, rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand. "And what makes you think you could hurt me? It's still you, even if you are a shifter. How come you didn't tell me?"

Alex quickly jerked his hand away, panting as he felt his heart speed up. He wiped away at his tears, not wanting her to see that he had been crying. Guilt swept through him as she asked her question about him not telling her the truth.

I lied to her.

"Nothing happened, Ellen. I-- I-- I just..." he stammered.

He finally gathered courage to look at her, revealing his blue eyes had turned cloudy.

Ellen also felt guilty, seeing the look on his face. She should've known not to ask such a question when he was clearly hurting. "I'm sorry, Alex. I just need you to look at me... just focus on me, can you do that, please? And I need you to take some deep breaths, okay? Like this."

She demonstrated for him, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Alex tried to join in, but his breaths came out shaky as he kept thinking of his fears of hurting her. Ellen kept reassuring him, though, alternating between calming words of encouragement and taking deep breaths with him. She reached for his hand again.

"Alex, it's okay. Just focus on me and keep breathing, okay? You're doing great."

"But I-- I could hurt you--" he wheezed.

"No, you won't. I'm not scared of you," she told him sincerely.

She's not scared? Alex thought, confused.

"But..."

"There's nothing for me to be scared of," Ellen said simply. "It doesn't change the fact that you're still the same man I fell in love with."

With a shuddering sigh, Alex felt himself begin to calm down. Though, he tensed up slightly once again as Ellen climbed up onto his stomach and began absentmindedly tracing circles against the fabric of his shirt.

There was a part of Alex's subconscious that told him he needed to get her off of him before he hurt her or felt the urge to snatch her up and gulp her down.

But... she was finding just the right spots where his stomach was hurting from the emptiness, and her little body was so, and he was feeling so warm...

He barely noticed when he let out a noise that could either be interpreted as relief or pain.

"Do you want me to stop?" he heard Ellen ask.

"N-- no," he answered. "It actually feels good, and I ha--"

He trailed off as Ellen resumed rubbing his belly, this time unbuttoning his shirt just enough to expose it. He kept himself from shivering as her ice cold hands made contact with the warm skin of his stomach.

"How does that feel?"

"Good," he sighed contentedly, finally relaxing. "But, why are your hands so cold?"

"My car broke down on the way over here," Ellen began. "I had to walk two blocks to find a payphone so I could call a tow truck, and now my car has to be in the shop until tomorrow evening because they were just about to close when I called. The tow truck driver offered to give me a ride over here, but I told him I could walk. Then I took a wrong turn, so I had to walk back... it was a nightmare."

Alex ran his thumb up and down her back comfortingly, then cupped his hand around her to try to get her warm. He finally got a good look at her since she arrived at the house. Her usually fair-colored cheeks and nose stung red from the cold, and her hair was messed up from the wind.

"Well, you're here now. And you can stay the night if you need to," he said, giving her a genuine smile that she echoed.

"I'd like that."

They spent about a minute and a half in silence, Ellen rubbing Alex's stomach while he kept her as warm as he could. It was just what the two of them needed after they both had relatively stressful days.

Alex's eyes began to close when the both of them heard his belly growl angrily having been empty for so long. It was so loud that the both of them were pretty sure the whole neighborhood could hear it. It vibrated under her hand as she continued rubbing it. She looked up at him with an expression that Alex couldn't read, but he was certain was fear.

"Sorry... I.. I missed lunch and... it's just a bad habit from high school I pick back up when I'm stressed," Alex apologized. "I'd never-- not you. Never you. I wouldn't-- I love you too much to..." He wanted to stop himself because he was afraid he might burst into tears again. And he honestly didn't know if he was telling the truth.

"Alex, it's okay," Ellen reassured him. "Something as normal as your tummy rumbling isn't gonna scare me."

As if responding to being mentioned, another hollow rumble erupted from Alex's tummy. Ellen laid her head against it, picking up some of the quieter growls. "You really need to take better care of yourself, Alex."

Alex only coughed awkwardly, kept his hand to Ellen's body. "I-- I will. I promise."

Ellen frowned, knowing very well that he wouldn't. "Alex... well... I've walked eight blocks in freezing cold weather, and you're... you're pretty hungry..."

Oh, I can't even say it without getting flustered, she thought to herself. Just spit it out!

"You wouldn't mind if... I asked you to...?"

Alex waited intently for her to finish her sentence, though he already had a good idea of what she was going to say.

"And I know it's safe. I know I'd be okay--"

Ellen was interrupted by another rumble from Alex's stomach.

"I'm asking if you can eat me," she finally blurted out quickly.

Alex's face paled.

His first instinct was to say, "No!"

Well, it wasn't exactly his first instinct.

His belly grumbled again, as if it were telling him, "Just snatch her and gulp her down, Keaton! You know you want to!"

Instead of acting or instantly disregarding her request, he weakly asked, "Do you mean it? You're not just joking?"

"Yeah, I mean it," Ellen said. "I know that it's safe, I know you'd never let anything happen... at least on purpose.

And, of course, Alex's stomach rumbled loudly again, probably at its loudest. Ellen awkwardly patted it, trying to put him at ease with the idea. She looked back up at him, making direct eye contact with him.

"And I trust you."

Despite the protests from his middle, Alex shook his head. "No. J-- just, no. It's too..." he murmured. "I don't want to risk you like that, Ellen. You're-- you're too important."

Looking down at Ellen, unable to look away from her piercing gaze, Alex tried to push her off his belly. "I'll be fine. Really. And even if I'm not fine, it... it really isn't your problem."

Ellen gripped onto the fabric of his shirt. "It is my problem, Alex! And besides, I wouldn't be in there for that long! You'd just keep me in there until you've drawn enough energy from me! And don't act like you're not starving! Your stomach could probably be heard by all of Columbus right now!"

Alex winced. He wanted to protest-- wanted to tell her she was being absolutely ridiculous, but... she was right. Why did she have to be right? With each little grumble, another pang of hunger hit his belly like he was being punched. And he could still feel her shivering against his hand.

"But... what if I hurt you?" he asked nervously.

"Hey," Ellen placed her tiny hand on top of his giant one. "I trust you. And... and if I feel like there's something wrong, I'll let you know and you can cough me up. Okay?"

Alex mulled over her words. With his stomach gurgling loudly beneath Ellen, he made one more check with her.

"You're sure you wouldn't mind?"

"I wouldn't mind at all," Ellen gave him a reassuring smile, trying to keep herself from seeming too eager.

And with that, Alex carefully wrapped his fingers around her waist. Struggling to keep control of his nerves, he lifted her up to his face. "So... how... how do you want me to do this?" he asked, his voice wobbling.

Ellen quietly giggled as Alex lifted her closer to his face. "Well, you just... lay me down on your tongue and... I'll let you know when it's okay to swallow."

Alex's belly let out another impatient rumble that Ellen couldn't help but giggle at. "Well, I'm ready if you are."

"But... but you'll say something if... i-- if anything's wrong, right?" Alex asked. "Like i-- if, my stomach acids don't..."

"I'll let you know if something goes wrong," Ellen reassured him. "I promise."

Alex gave her a nervous smile, noticing her kicking off her boots. It was somewhat off-putting to see how eager she was. Why hadn't she run away when she saw him? Why hadn't she...?

"Alex, you're drooling."

Alex snapped out his thoughts, wiping at the drool that had pooled on his tongue and dripped from his mouth. Wanting to get it over with, he opened his maw and closed his eyes.

Wait... my teeth!

He quickly snapped his mouth closed to ask her something.

"I'm sorry, but... could you... could you just crawl it? I'm afraid I might bite you on accident."

"If that's how you want to do this. Alex, you're doing great," she reassured him.

Alex opened his mouth again, allowing Ellen to crawl in and turn onto her back. As soon as he felt her out of the way of his teeth, he delicately yet quickly closed his mouth, sealing her in the darkness.

Ellen felt saliva pool around her, Alex's tongue shifting around her little body.

Is he... tasting me? she thought.

It wasn't that she bothered her. It was actually kinda pleasant... and maybe a little ticklish.

Alex could hear her muffled giggles as he realized what he was doing. He tried to push those thoughts out of his head because he knew that if he dwelled on it, he'd lose his nerve and spit her out.

"Whenever you're ready, Alex," Ellen said.

Alex hesitated, rubbing at his eyes and trying to convince himself to swallow. He began to tip his head back. Feeling the little body on his tongue slide encouraged his instincts to kick in. He was moving slowly, sure, but after a moment, he decided to shoot his shot.

With a deft backward flick of his head, Alex pressed a hand to the outside of his throat, closed his eyes, and swallowed.

Feeling his finger trace her path from his throat, Ellen slid down into Alex's belly as it growled around her. As she situated herself, she gave a gentle nudge to the stomach wall. "Hi, Alex," she greeted softly to let him know she made it down okay.

Alex gasped when she finally spilled into his gut, then when he felt her touch his stomach lining. That felt... strange... but it wasn't a bad feeling. He pressed back at her. "Hi, Ellen," he murmured back, unable to suppress a smile. "Did you make it down okay?"

Ellen shyly smiled back, even though she knew he couldn't see it, when she felt the pressure of his hand against her own. "Don't worry, I'm fine," she answered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Just a little moist."

Alex laughed a little, but it made the chamber containing her shake just enough to make her almost fall onto her side.

"What about you, Alex? I'm not giving you a bellyache, am I?" she asked.

"No," he reassured her, sounding like he was going to laugh again before curiosity struck him. "What's it like in there?"

"It's... warm, and... surprisingly comfy..." Ellen began, before she was interrupted by a few of the ambient gurgles around her. "A little noisy," she teased, tracing circles on the stomach lining to put Alex at ease.

Alex could feel his cheeks heating up. "Sorry," he murmured. He knew he didn't have control over it, but he still felt like he needed to apologize.

"No, I don't mind it. It's kinda relaxing, actually," Ellen confessed. Most of the time she spent nights with Alex, she would lay against his bare midriff as it either growled in the morning for its breakfast or gurgled while digesting dinner. It was a nice stress-reliever for her after her dance classes, and he liked having her so close to him.

Now they were closer than ever.

"So... what do I taste like?" she asked, half out of curiosity and half because she kinda liked seeing Alex a little flustered.

He felt his cheeks grow even warmer at her questions, licking his lips to try to gather what remained of her flavor.

"Cookie dough," he replied, sounding a little sheepish.

Wow, she made Alex P. Keaton sheepish. Ellen laughed, already feeling a little tired as his body pulled energy from her.

"Thank you," she lightly teased, snuggling into a corner of the chamber, taking in how incredible this was. "You wouldn't mind if I spent the night in here, right?"

Ellen wasn't the only one tired. He had only filled his belly a few minutes ago and he already felt his eyelids drooping. He continued kneading at his stomach.

"Well, if you don't mind... I'd like that."

And with those words, Alex kept absentmindedly rubbing his belly as the both of them drifted off to sleep.

Maybe they could try this again sometime.

#family ties #ellen reed #alex p. keaton #alex keaton #apk #ellex #soft vore #safe vore #g/t #g/t vore #size difference #sizeshifter!alex #angst fic #hurt/comfort fic #sizeshifter #mention of belly kink #belly kink mention #extreme cuddling

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cheesecaketyrant · 4 years

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Hello all! I would like to take the time to say; Thank you to: (Unfortunately I can't tag them! But they are known as shockwavefan and as well Soundwave - I'm not sure if I do have them on Tumbler or not!) @artsy-archangel @zen-drift! Y'all are amazing!

Now, I tried to clean it as best to my abilities in the form of RP format.

I did realize that for the cover is not quite accurate. But that's okay! (There were few mistakes in the last post; Shockwave was the one who killed Megatron, not Optimus Prime)

I'll be posting these as Chapters and Parts. Anywho I'm sure some of y'all been waiting for the next post- so.. here!

Oh boy, this starting to look quite interesting!

Chapter:1- All Hail Shockwave

(Part:1-2)

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Shockwave saw that his people were cheering, he looked at his experiment, no one could read Shockwaves mind. Not even those who have worked closely with him for years know. He walked down the steps, his metallic feet hitting the ground with each step.

After a few hours since he had left the stage, he was underground. Shockwave was once again his old self, the senator long ago was gone; the leader they know now is fake. He became leader as a way to have access to more tools. On the table lied a Cybertronian, a Decepticon, he screamed in agony but they never reached their destination. After enough energon had leaked the victim stopped screaming. Behind Shockwave were multiple dripping bodies of Decepticons hanging upside down. Shockwave, the terror which spread through the Autobot army was back, only he wasn't affiliated with anyone but logic.

--------

Today wasn't the best of all days as a sudden riot began however this wasn't the first that has happened. Prowl has come to an assumption that someone is starting the mods on purpose therefore he's been sending in the authorites to investigate. Later, situations got worse when Decepticons came Archangel's office reporting missing friends that haven't returned to their homes for awhile. He assured them he'll handle the investigation and they left in high hopes they'll have their friends back.

Archangel sighed as he laid back againts his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his optics. Everything seemed to be getting worse however some events were to be expected but not missing bots.

A knock on his door interrupted Archangel's thoughts. "Come in." He responded as he fixed his serious composer.

Prowl entered with a datapad in his servo. "My team has discovered the culprit behind the sudden riots." Prowl told him. "Ratbat has been planning a scheme however its unknown what his intentions are."

"Ratbat was a Decepticon..."

"Of course you would know that given your past. Was isn't the right word for it: he " is" a Decepticon. He's proven to still be loyal to the dead cause." Prowl interrupted him and handed Archangel the datapad. "While I deal with Ratbat, I need you to inform Shockwave about the energon supplies. We've been getting reports of cannibalism in the streets and the percentage of casualties is high."

Archangel straighten and his servo tightened against the datapad in reaction to what Prowl wanted him to do. Was he testing him again?

"I'll... Be sure he's aware of the problems." He said in a serious tone, hiding his sudden dread.

"Good. Send me a report when you are finish." Prowl said as he left.

Archangel slumped in his seat more and groaned from stress. "Primus give me strength." He whispered.

Through that whole conversation, Prowl didn't give Archangel a moment to speak. Yes he knew how much the mech disliked him but this was peculiar. Also asking him to deal with Shockwave was definitely really low since Prowl was aware of his past. He was planning something and Archangel wasn't sure he wanted to play his game.

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Drift gazed at the datapad in his servo, optics ridges scrunched together in a frown as the latest census showed that instead of an increase in their clients in the housing, some area were showing a drop in numbers. Odd. He placed that datapad aside and pulled up the records for the previous counts. The decrease was there but very marginal. Enough to be explained away by miscount or simply some bots just up and leaving their designated housing, moving in with others or goodness knows what else. He had had to deal with a fair number of strange reasons that bots just didn't stay put. But this was beginning to look like a pattern or maybe his war-wired brain module was trying to put a more sinister twist to what could just be perfectly normal situation. Yet his tanks gave that curious twist that he always trust and he simple knew that something was up.

But who could he turn to? He could try his Senior Officer but he also didn't want to come across as being paranoid. Primus knew his religious habits already earned his strange looks despite most bots being really good natured about it, some even being interested. his old friends were...dispersed. At one time he felt he could trust Ratchet above all, but the mech had thrown in his lot and time with Shockwave now. And it made sense, The CMO was always aligned with a leader.

Drift rubbed his helf crest and stared at the numbers again. He didn't know anything beyond them and a tank feeling. It wasn't enough to go on. He needed to start doing some ground work. Subtly of course, since he didn't need to start a panic. He was no Jazz but he was a fairly decent interrogator. Maybe he could start with the Police Reports. See if there were any notices for missing bots and if those names matched the ones in his register.

He vented out and picked up the datapad again. He had really hoped things would be different this time around but it seemed that it wasn't going to happy crystals. A mech poked his head in. "Drift, we got another riot happening, this time a bit closer to the recent bot settlement. Some of them are demanding relocation. Boss wants you on it!" Drift nodded, out of his chair even before the mech finished speaking. "I got it," he said, shiting to bot mode and heading to the scene of the now dispersed riot. A tall blue Seeker frame caught his optic as he arrived. "Archangel?" he mouthed to himself but the Seeker was swallowed up by the crowd work and his duties and Drift had his own to attend to. He made a mental note to check and see if that was indeed the Seeker he knew. The frightened group of mech and femmes huddled together as he approached.

"Hello, my name is Drift. Im from the Immigration Center. I'm here to attend to your issues," he began giving them a smile. "We need to get away from this!" a femme blurted out in a high pitch whine of her vocalizer, "We didn't come back to be in more war!" Drift shifted to modulate his vocalizer to soothing but firm tone. "I understand that and unfortunately I cannot relocate you to another sector. However, lets go inside and I can let you know how to make this place a bit safer for all of you. The Police as you see also got this under control. Trust us to do our jobs. We will make this better." The group huffed but led the way into their housing, Drift following behind them, hoping he was right.

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The war was over. Cyberton was in an odd state. Shockwave was leader, the Decepticons and Autobots were scattered. You could even say they were shattered factions. (Roll credits.) The two factions in the war now needed to find a way to co-exist somehow. Putting that dreadful war behind would not be easy. The Decepticons' leader, Megatron, had unfortunately ceased functioning. Killed by that traitor, Shockwave. Soundwave would rip out that traitor's spark if he had the chance. But the Decepticons were not fully lost. They were nowhere near their previous power, however. They had much fewer numbers, not as strong a fighting force, and they had a leader who could not even hope to amount to what Megatron did.

Soundwave was only there because he had nowhere else to go. He would almost certainly be executed for the things he had done during the war. So he stayed with the army that the previous Second In Command of the faction had gathered. Starscream. It would certainly take getting used to. Starscream is not the leader Megatron was. But perhaps that could change with time. Soundwave would have to stick around to see that happen, and stick around he would.

----------

He was fuming, any bot that was an inch from him got shoved out of the way, and others, well they got thrown. It was very typical of Starscream when he threw a tantrum, to flick pain on others.

Being treated like the under dog for so long, he had picked up habits, and mold them.

But, this time was different- his attacks were more brutal then the normal. Starscream wasn't sure who gave the cadet the go to scout energon, with out a group. Something was off, Starscream couldn't put a digit on what.

Turning on the communication, the channel had been switched to private- just in case any was listening in. Had pinged in Soundwave, :'Find out who on Primus gave authority for a one bot solo mission, on finding energon!' Starscream said, almost half shouting, leaving his comm open for Soundwave response.

Takeing a sharp left turn, the Seeker stomped with each step. Dearing anyone to stop him, behind him was the sound of petter patter steps from small peds that came from none other then Rattrap, "Sir! Please slow down!" Stopping in his tracks, Starscream spun around, his servos now propped onto his his. "Did you already taken care of that mess?" The new Warlord said, in a demanding tone, rushing the mechanic vermin.

"Yes, Mord! I did what you've asked of me-" without giving him any further ado, Starscream turned back around and started to walk again in big strides. However it didn't seem like Rattrap was finished, "I need to talk to you! About Cybertron-" with this Starscream stopped in his tracks.

"Speak, and make it fast." The once Second in command command, not giving any room for small chit chat. "Well, uh. There's been reports- about disappearing bots back on home." Rattrap paused, in order for Starscream to react. "Witch fractions?"

"If my calculation and resources are correct- both." Rattrap held a datapad in his servos, clutching onto it as if it was his life line.

"Is that so, Then tell me, whose your resources, and how did you found about this?" Rattrap began to shift his pedes looking nervous. "The mech you killled-"

"Finish your report, then once your done leave the data in my quarters. Once done, bring up the dead bots profile- see what's all on his background history!" Starscream shouted, by now- he was more mad at himself to act upon reckless thoughts and actions, which made his mood even more sour.

Rattrap better prayed to the all spark, that this was just some miscalculation- rumors no less. If not- Starscream had more on his servos then that a war he was sure he was going to lose.

---------------

Drip, drip, drip. That was all that could be heard in the lab, Shockwave was collecting it; it's unknown for what reason but it seemed important. To the side was a whole diagram of the standard Cybertronian anatomy, there were beakers everywhere. To his right was a list of Decepticons and their pictures, most were all crossed out except three, Soundwave, Starscream, and Archangel. His experiment betrayed him, now was the perfect time to strike. At the bottom of the list was Megatron, his first victim, this was all part of the plan to save Cybertron. After a few hours had passed underneath the lab, he walked out into the barren wasteland which was Kaon.

|The Office|

Shockwave made sure he didn't have any energon on him, he didn't want to arouse suspicion to his actions. He landed, waving to his secretary, his fake persona was just to be clear. He walked up to his office, he sat down in his chair. Moments after, his secretary called. "Mr. Shockwave, you have a visitor from the Police Department, someone called Archangel." Shockwave was surprised, why would he want to see him? "Bring him up, we'll have a talk."

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Archangel was waiting in the lobby as the secretary contacted Shockwave of his arrival. He scowled as he wished the bot would call him by his rank as he introduced himself before but it seemed to have slipped their processor.

"He's waiting for you now, Archangel. He's at the top floor." She told him.

Archangel bowed his helm respectfully as he hid his sudden dread. "Thank you." He said before he walked past the counter and entered the lift. He pressed the top floor option on the lift's console and the hatch slid shut in response and began to ascend.

Archangel's servos clenched tightly as he grew tense and tried the venting technique Rung taught him to calm him down, however his emotions were overwhelming which deterred his efforts to relax. Despite his failure, he hid how he felt rather well as he remained stern as soon as the lift came to a stop. The hatch opened into Shockwave's office. The large purple mech was sitting at his desk and seeing him again made Archangel feel sick in his fuel tank.

"Commander Archangel of Iacon's Police Department. I have dire reports that acquire your attention." He said seriously as he placed the datapad on his desk. "We've been having multiple cases involving cannibalism in the streets due to lack of energon supplies. The public wants actions regarding the issues before they manifest into more riots."

#starscream #drift #soundwave #shockwave #megatron #rattrap #prowl #bumblebee #laserbeak #optimus prime #Transformers: Shattered Fractions #idw transformers #transformers #roleplay #transformers roleplay

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theomotaku · 4 years

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An alternative scene inspired by the non-fetish rp, but I use my oc instead of my partner's here.

(Jigen had three glasses of sake at the restaurant last night. He came home horny, he and Lupin fucked, and he fell asleep with a full bladder.) Jigen was having a nightmare about the time his hats got destroyed. He couldn't aim right. He couldn't protect his friends. He felt completely useless! He woke up in a cold sweat. His hands found his hat on the nightstand and he put it on. That's when he realized his bladder was screaming to be released, and urine was slowly trickling out of him. He grabbed himself hard to stop it. Once he stopped, he got up and, still holding himself, went to pick up his discarded underwear. He leaked as he bent over. He put his underwear on and slipped out of the room, planning to make a beeline for the restroom, but he smelled something burning. Worried, he rushed to the kitchen, holding himself with one hand. He found Goemon struggling to cook fish. With his free hand, he nudged Goemon out of the way, took the burnt fish off the burner, and flipped the other one, which was still good.

"What all are you trying to cook?" Jigen asked.

"Just fish and rice," Goemon answered. "Do you need-?"

Jigen held up his free hand to silence him. "Yeah, but I had to come stop you from burning down the kitchen first."

"Well, thank you. You can go now," Goemon said.

Jigen nodded and took a step, but apparently his bladder took Goemon's words as permission to release then and there. Jigen turned red and covered his face with his clean hand as urine poured down his legs.

"I will go get some towels," Goemon said, placing a hand on Jigen's shoulder, not caring that the puddle was reaching his bare feet. He went to get towels.

Goemon came back and cleaned up Jigen's mess. Jigen had washed his hands and focused up on cooking - essentially cleaning up Goemon's mess.

"Go change. I think I can watch the food for a few minutes," Goemon suggested. Jigen nodded.

Jigen went back to his and Lupin's room and got his pants and shirt from last night. He'd take a proper shower with Lupin after breakfast. He went to the restroom, discarded his wet underwear, wiped down his legs and genitals, and put his pants on without underwear for now. Then, he put on his shirt and tucked it in. He rejoined Goemon in the kitchen.

(A while after breakfast, Goemon walked his girlfriend to work, and got a can of tea out of the vending machine.) The walk home for Goemon was torture. That can of tea went right through him. He was bursting! He couldn't have an accident. He knew on, some level, Jigen and Lupin still saw him as a kid at times since he's so much younger than the two of them. (I hc Lupin is 35, Jigen is 37, and Goemon is only 27.) If he were to have an accident, it would just solidify his role as the baby. Although... Jigen did have an accident this morning... Maybe they wouldn't judge him if he were to- NO! He couldn't think like that! He had to stop walking. He glanced around to make sure noone was looking before he grabbed himself. He had leaked a little bit. Once he felt like he had more control, he started walking again, but it didn't last long. He felt another leak soaking into his fundoshi and he stopped again, squeezing his legs together. Once again, he started walking. He had to make it home! Unfortunately, his bladder had other ideas. It released itself against his will. He pulled his hakama away from his crotch and his ass, glad he was wearing an open one (skirt-like instead of pants-like). His urine flooded his fundoshi and gushed down his legs, creating a puddle at his feet. There were a few people around, and they all stopped and stared. He hoped none of them recognized him as part of Lupin the Third's gang. He finally finished, and, with tears of humiliation in his eyes, he carefully stepped out of the puddle and continued to walk home.

Jigen's hands were shaking too much to light his cigarette. He blamed it on the lighter and ducked inside to 'look for another one.' What he was really doing was allowing himself to break down without having to worry Lupin. He braced himself against the kitchen counter and let the tears fall. He heard the front door open and pulled himself together, wiping his eyes. He went to greet Goemon and saw the samurai was in about as bad of shape as he himself was.

"Goemon, what's wrong?" Jigen hugged him, causing the wet fabric of Goemon's fundoshi to press against his hakama, soaking into it and then into Jigen's clean pants. Goemon started crying as he realized this.

"I'm sorry," he wept. Jigen rubbed his back and tried to soothe him.

"Hey, what's going on?" Lupin asked, coming in after finishing his cigarette.

Jigen braced himself for an angry samurai as he said, "Goemon had an accident." Goemon didn't get mad, just more upset.

"An accident? What...?" Lupin was confused.

Jigen blushed from secondhand embarrassment at having to explain. "Yeah, you know, the kind where you don't make it to the restroom on time?"

Goemon hoped Jigen didn't plan to move for a while, because there was no way in hell he was facing Lupin after Jigen told him that. He was going to stay hidden in Jigen's shoulder. No, he didnt care that it was childish.

Lupin came up to them and started stroking Goemon's hair. "Its okay, buddy. It happens." After a few minutes, he said, "Why don't you go get cleaned up?" Goemon nodded.

"And we'll be waiting for you, so dont get any ideas!" Jigen called, almost certain that Goemon would try to commit an honor suicide.

Goemon knew what he meant. "I can't die. I need to stay alive for Rockstar."

Jigen smiled. They were adorable together. It kind of hurt that Goemon never took his and Lupin's feelings into consideration like that in the past, but Rockstar was different. He loved her differently. Jigen and Lupin were like his brothers. Rockstar was his girlfriend.

(That afternoon, Goemon went to meet Rockstar to walk her home from work.) Rockstar got herself another tea from the vending machine. "You want one?" she offered. Goemon shook his head. "Aw. I thought you liked it?"

"I do, it's just... I prefer tea as a morning drink," he lied. Had she seen him drink tea at night? There was that one time, but it was ginger tea and had been sick. That was different.

"Okay," Rockstar said, though she didn't really believe him. She opened hers and sipped on it as they walked home.

As they got near the place Goemon had his accident, they passed a woman and a little boy.

"Look, mama!" the little boy pointed. "Its the samurai that peed himself this morning!"

Goemon heard the woman start to scold the child. Good. The brat deserved it. Or maybe Goemon was just bitter because he was humiliated all over again, this time in front of Rockstar. He started walking a little faster. He didn't really mean to leave her behind, but the sooner he got home, the better. The sooner he'd be out of public. The sooner Rockstar could pack up and leave him because he was disgusting and pathetic. There were tears streaming down his face. He covered his mouth to muffle his sobs. He wanted to get home and let Rockstar leave so he could end his miserable life like he should have done when Lupin and Jigen left this morning. They didn't need him anymore, they had each other. And now Rockstar would leave him. Why should he continue liv-?

"Goemon, wait!" Rockstar's voice cut through his self deprecating thoughts.

Rockstar had stopped in shock when the little boy said that. She had to run to catch up to Goemon again. When she did, she wrapped the poor samurai in a warm hug.

"Is that why you didn't want another tea?" she asked gently. Goemon nodded sheepishly. She carefully pulled his hand away from his mouth and held said hand. "It's okay to cry, Goemon."

With his hand away, Goemon couldn't stop the sobs from escaping him. Rockstar just held him tight.

"Look, it's okay, alright? Accidents happen," she soothed.

"Y-you're not disgusted?" he asked in disbelief. She shook her head. "You won't leave me?" His voice sounded so small and pathetic in his own ears. He wouldn't put up with him.

"Why would I leave you over something like this?" She kissed his cheek. "It was one little accident." She kissed his other cheek. "You're still my badass samurai." She kissed his forehead. "Come on, let's go home and cuddle." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. She led the way home, not letting go of his hand.

A few stay tears fell down Goemon's face, but he wiped them away. He was still sniffing a bit, but he'd calmed down for the most part.

They got home, locked the door, and sat on the couch. Goemon leaned on Rockstar. She didn't mind, she loved when Gowmon was vulnerable - not that she'd ever do anything to hurt him so that he would show his vulnerable side. But for now, she knew he needed the comfort. She wrapped her arms around him and started playing with his hair. After getting up at 5:30 to... fail at cooking breakfast, and cleaning, and the emotional roller coaster he'd been on today, Goemon was exhausted. He fell asleep within 20 minutes. Rockstar closed her eyes, too, and they both took a nap on the couch for a few hours.

#male omorashi #omorashi #goemon ishikawa xiii #jigen daisuke #lupin the 3rd #lupin iii #lupin the third #arsene lupin iii #men crying

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diveronarpg · 4 years

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Congratulations, GREY! You’ve been accepted for the role of EDMUND with a faceclaim change to Daniel Sharman. Admin Rosey: “You are born unwanted, unloved and you have never worked out, not once, why you were kept; why your mother carried you, grew you, bore you just to immediately hand you off to a father for whom you were little more than a curse.“ Never before have I witnessed something so potently Edmund from the first. You bring a vitality and earnestness to him that makes him so incredibly endearing, even though there’s always that hint of the monster that lies beneath. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Grey

Age | 32

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | Currently I’m off work on extended medical leave (unknown end date), so mostly don’t have any major claims on my time and should be able to be around most days. With that said, medical issues and meds will crop up from time to time however I believe things have settled down enough to allow me to return to the rp.

Timezone | Sydney AEST (GMT+10)

How did you find the rp? | Blame Rogue. Always.

Current/Past RP Accounts | I briefly played Benvolio here last year until health issues got in the way!

IN CHARACTER

Character | Edmund/Easton Craven.

Easton - You have to wonder, don’t you, what they thought when they picked your name. Easton. Town in the East. A name basically devoid of meaning, of hope for what you’d grow into. They didn’t wish you valor or prosperity or happiness or any of a hundred actual meanings, oh no - that all goes to your brother the brave boar. Of course it does – you were never wanted, so why should they want anything for you?

Craven - Oh, you know it’s origins in the Gaelic Ó Crabháin (Son of Crabháin) , or perhaps the far less noble Welsh Craf (garlic) but you can’t but help take a certain vicious, raw and ironic pleasure in the fact that it’s co-incidentally also a synonym of coward. In your mind you hiss it, hurl it at the portrait of your father – but all that escapes your tight throat is a quiet whisper, with a tinge of longing for the way the name sits so tidily on Gabriel and Everett’s shoulders ( but then, it was never made for you ).

Edmund - This name fits far easier on your brow than the two before – but then, this one was chosen with you in mind. This one you have earned with blood and pain, whatever cost they asked was met to carve out this space, this place where you belong. Rich Protection is what you are now, guarding the Capulets with whispers, with secrets, with blood and bullets.

(I’d like to request a face claim change to Daniel Sharman if I could!)

What drew you to this character? |

You are born unwanted, unloved and you have never worked out, not once, why you were kept; why your mother carried you, grew you, bore you just to immediately hand you off to a father for whom you were little more than a curse. He keeps you out of the same twisted sense of honour that your very existence besmirches – does that “honour” do anything except ruin lives?

So much pain caused for one man’s already shredded virtue. In taking you in, Gabriel put his own selfishness above his family a second time – his play at penance means more to him than the hurt it costs his wife, the happy life you might have led if he had simply allowed you to be adopted by another family who actually wanted you. But then, how could he pat himself on the back about having done the right thing? In birth, you have learned a lesson you will not understand until you are grown – honour is simply a pretentious word for hubris.

( You are never wanted, never fitting; a jigsaw piece mixed into the wrong puzzle. )

You grow up chasing scraps of approval and warmth the way a donkey chases a carrot on a stick – in your mind, always close enough to grasp in another step and in reality always out of reach. Time and time again you take your pictures, your books, the homework your tutor praised to him and are met each time with the closed door of his study. Sometimes, if you wait long enough ( back aching from the perfect posture your father demands of you ) he will glance at one briefly, and you feel the warmth of the sun on your face, but it is quickly chased away by the cloud of criticisms that invariably follow. Each time you swear to yourself that next time your father will smile and tell you you have done well, and each time you return as empty handed as the last.

Your step-mother is never cruel, only distant and cold, but you are too young to understand the difference, to see that she walls herself off from you only to protect herself from what you represent ( and later, you will see it, the way they all protected themselves without worrying about protecting you and you will learn it well and hard that people look out only for themselves ). You are four when you call her ‘Mama’ for the first time, crying over your grazed knee, and her sweeping exit from the room is perhaps the clearest of your young memories, the words ‘Non sono tua madre’ falling dead and flat over her shoulder as she goes.

( You have been cold for so long that you start to think that even the slightest warmth might burn you to ash. )

Want curdles into bitter envy in your stomach as you realise what bastardo truly means: that the light that shines so brightly upon your brother will never fall upon you. That nothing you ever do will be enough to remove the bloody stain of your birth from the spotless white carpet of the Craven family. The acidic green bile burns through you, a sharp chemical taste in your mouth for years as it hollows you out, echoing caverns of craving in its wake until you think if you don’t have something then your very foundations will crumble into nothing.

Just when you think the last of your supports is washing away with the caustic tide you find something new to fill you to the brim. Liquid molten rage cascades into those raw-cut caverns, tumbling flames through your veins that leave scorch marks on your heart and fill your lungs with choking smoke. At first it’s all-consuming, over-whelming, an inferno that threatens to devour you in its intensity and you lash it out at everything around you; venting the hurt and pain of it at anything within reach. In time you manage to leash it, harnessing the Pyrrhic power of it to your own ends, channelling it in your own directions until you forget what it’s like to not be scalded and scorched from within, until you forget that fire is never meant to be played with.

( You set yourself alight to stop anyone else from striking the match and laugh as your victory pyre consumes you. )

Tl;dr: Fucked up, messed up boys are my brand yo.

( I feel I can pretty much perfectly encapsulate what cleaved my attention so firmly to Easton with that one time where my character inspo boards led pinterest support to send me a concerned email asking if I was okay.)

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

Obviously these are all contingent on the plot, other writers agreement etc etc, and are just ideas.

i. you were destined for the glory / the honor and the fame. / i was destined for the bullet / to be the gun with no name.

Everett has everything Easton has ever wanted, from parents who care to wealth to power to a circle of friends he can fall back on. He has everything that should of been Easton’s, if only Easton had had the sheer luck to have been born to the right woman. Easton never had a chance to shine as he should, buried since birth in his older brother’s darkest shadow, and now he’s clambering for the sun.

It’s the oldest tale in the world, this Cain and Abel fable, and yet Easton seems to be the only one who knows which page they’re on. Everett extends his hand and as much as the elemental fury inside wants to slap it away ( as much as some buried corner of his soul cries out to grasp it in earnest ), Easton rests his palm reluctantly in his brothers for now – after all, how much easier to put a knife in the back of someone who has invited you inside their guard?

ii. the moral of the story is / i will gut you if i need to. / i will carve my way out / with only my teeth.

It’s not that Easton isn’t loyal – in his own way he’s unswervingly loyal to the Capulets. Would he kill for them? Without blinking an eye. Would he die for them, on the other hand? And yet in many ways he defines himself more as Capulet than he does Craven; this allegiance, this new family that he has chosen for himself. When it comes to alternate allegiances, there are none he would so much as waver from the Capulets for; he has chosen the best player in the game and for now he’s content to ride their rise.

The problem is that, at the end of the day, Easton craves power and he craves control and the freedom that he believes comes with being at the top of the pyramid. He doesn’t see the chains that come with it, that bind Rafaella, Tiberius and Juliana with duty; only the way people jump to their words, scrape bows in their direction. And the Capulets may be a metaphorical extended family but at the same time they’re also, at their core, a very specific blood family and he can see the ceiling above him that his half-blooded Craven name will never let him rise past. Even the most loyal dog can bite and one day the Capulets may find that the dog they thought trained is actually a wolf - and that when you unleash a dog on your enemies it’s not always willing to be re-collared.

iii. when you are not fed love / on a silver spoon / you learn to / lick it off knives.

Affection is a difficult concept for someone who’s experienced so little of it in his life. On the one hand, he hungers for it; a deep insatiable need for the way his father’s hand rests proudly on Everett’s shoulder, the way Margherita had looked at her son, for soft hands to stroke his brow when he’s sick or a shoulder at the end of the day. But those are things for people who are worthwhile, who matter, and if Easton’s life has taught him anything it’s that he is deserving of nothing ( as much as he tries to yell into that void that he is deserving of everything ).

On the other, he approaches affection with the same wary fear as a dog that’s been kicked a time too many; to feel affection for something is to expose a vulnerable point to his enemies, a weakness for them to exploit – to say nothing of the self-destruct code he would hand to object of said affection, that he may as well be baring his throat to their blade when they inevitably realise how unworthy he is.

And so he tries to lock it away, snaps and bites at anyone who gets too close to keep a clear arms length around himself, and allows the loneliness to eat at him unabated.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Absolutely! I live and breathe for angst so as long as it comes at a time that makes me and everyone else bawl about it, go for it!

IN DEPTH

January 2012 (19 years old) Munich

Easton wonders what he’d expected, all those times he’d typed her name into google, deleted it and re-typed it a few days later. Whatever dream had prompted him to finally follow through, whatever holes he might have hoped to fill, he’d known it was a mistake the moment he’d stepped out of the airport.

Now, seated in this bright, cheerful kitchen, he’s sure of it.

“ So you’re him then. The child. ” Her hand closes for a moment around the golden cross that hangs around her neck, knuckles whitening for a moment as though gripping it tighter might ward off his presence here, in her life. How many rosaries had she said to absolve herself of his birth, to absolve herself of him? ( And he knows that they both know it will never be enough. )

Her throat bobs for a moment as she swallows. “ You have his eyes. ”

His jaw clenches a little at the reminder, at the way she’s already dissociating herself from him, abstaining any responsibility. Not my, but the. As if she’d had nothing to do with it. With him.

“ Yeah. ” The silence thickens for a moment, suffocating the room until he can almost feel it straining his lungs. “ You’re her then. you’re… ” What? My mother? Gabriel’s ex-whore? The one who abandoned me?

He’d always assumed he must look like his mother; the only comments he ever got about Gabriel were his eyes. But at this moment, the most familiar thing about her face is the same closed, guarded expression that Margherita and his father had always worn when they looked at him.

“ They told me you were dead. ”

Ingrid nods, as though she’d expected as much. and her eyes flick to the clock on the wall behind him. Past her, on the door of the fridge, he can see the bright primary colours of a child’s painting, photos of her with a man and three small children, and for a minute it’s a kick in the gut that he struggles to draw breath past. In Verona he’s nothing but the one who destroyed a family and here he’s just the ticking time bomb waiting to do it again.

He stands abruptly, the chair clattering back loudly against the tiles. “ This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come. ” His fists clench at his sides, nails digging into his palms to counteract the ringing rush of hurt and anger. “ Sorry. ”

“ Easton. ” It’s the first time she’s called him by name, and he stutters in place, nails digging harder into his palms. “ I assume you want answers and I suppose - ” She won’t meet his eyes. “ - I suppose I owe you that much. ”

EXTRAS

Headcanons:

- Easton secretly likes to paint, and its one of the few things he has that provides him a sense of peace. Still, it feels like a vulnerability, a crack in his armour, and he guards the knowledge of it fiercely and warily, trusting it to no one. He scrubs his skin almost raw after each session, getting off every trace of oils that he can, because it’s far far easier and safer to explain blood in his knuckles or under his nails than paint. It’s so ingrained that the scouring ritual is almost a vital part of the process, a cleansing of more than just the paint. The vast majority of his paintings end up destroyed upon creation, because for all the peace he manages to find in creating them, when they’re finished he sees nothing but the flaws picked out in Gabriel’s voice.

- Pinterest Board

#accepted #accepted: edmund

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hope-mikaelson · 5 years

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Hope conjures her patronus - an untitled Hizzie drabble

I was writing this as part of a massive AU headcanon/RP plot I wrote with @quinntanas. I just wanted to surprise her because this was in my head and she’s asleep. So some of it might not entirely make sense to all of you but I figured I’d post it here if you wanted something about as close to fluff as I’ll ever write.

All you really gotta know for background is this follows two years after the Triwizard tournament AU she and I came up with. Lizzie and Hope are out of school now training to be aurors after there was a death eater uprising.

It’s mostly Hope’s POV cuz when we RP I write Hope and Liz writes Lizzie.

If she’s said the words once, Hope has said them a thousand times; I’m okay, I’ve moved on, I’ve accepted it. I’m fine. But if there’s one universal truth to magic it’s that it never lies. Maybe she could fool the Hogwarts student body when she was there. Maybe she can fool her friends and the ministry and even Alaric now. Hope has always been a skilled puppet master in that sense. She can fool anyone, sometimes even Lizzie, often even herself. But she can’t fool Magic.

It’s been nearly two and a half years since the Triwizard tournament that changed the course of the modern wizarding world. The same tournament that brought Lizzie Saltzman into her life, furious and intense in harsh, hollow blue heels, fresh off the carriage from Beauxbatons. She still trains too often with Alaric, she still sneaks away from the ministry to quiet rooms with her girlfriend in between, sweaty and frustrated only to return just as sweaty but a little less pent up.

None of them will let the patronus thing go, especially not Lizzie. And Hope can’t blame her. Once upon a time Lizzie Saltzman had famously rescued her from a pack of dementors and neither of them had forgotten it. For entirely different reasons. Hope always remembers that glowing, winged white horse, Lizzie teary eyed on her knees with Hope’s robes clenched in her fists. Lizzie remembers it different. She still wakes up now and then screaming Hope’s name, shaking Hope awake or simply rousing her with the desperation in her sleeping voice. Which is why Hope has promised, as Lizzie asked, to train until she got it. Because Hope refuses to let Lizzie become an auror without her and Lizzie refuses to let Hope follow her into the ‘political hellfire that is the current state of the wizarding world’ without the shield a patronus provides.

At first, she’d done this with Lizzie, practicing over and over into the morning hours to no avail. Hope would take deep breaths and close her eyes and Lizzie would run her hands over her shoulders, with assurances that ranged anywhere from bossy and coaching to gentle and cautious. It always ended with Hope defeated and even more quiet than usual. Or frustrated an explosive. The kind that could only be solved running in the woods and not in the other ways they’d gotten so used to.

Now, she’s moved on to practicing with Alaric, afraid of the toll it was putting on things with Lizzie. Hope can’t help but be frustrated. Because it should have worked. Lizzie Saltzman is the safest person she knows. All she has to do is come near her to feel the same ease they’d felt their first night together, their sudden unexpected one night stand, vulnerability and Lizzie’s hungry looking gaze, the satisfied grin on her own face the echo of Lizzie’s frustrated ‘I’m going to be really annoyed at you tomorrow.’ All she has to do is stand in the same room as her to remember watching her dance at the Yule ball, the moment Hope knew it wasn’t friendship or loyalty in her chest but something more. All she has to do is feel Lizzie’s hands on her shoulders to remember each of their exchanged vulnerabilities, all of the ways they were the same underneath it all, the first time they’d held hands under their robes, sweet and real despite the impending terror of the world around them, the pleased, proud smile on Lizzie’s face when she’d busted out an entire collection of research because Hope had mentioned maybe tying each other up for fun... one time.

“Wait -- “

Hope stops Alaric mid-lecture. He’s encouraging her to think of a memory, any memory. And stubbornly, for years, Hope had heard those words and begged herself to conjure a memory of her father that made her happy. Truly happy. The ministry’s auror therapist had told her that none of those memories would make her truly happy until she’d come to terms with her grief. And Hope had insisted she had but magic knew -- magic always knew. The happiness wasn’t strong enough. All of Hopes memories, for as long as she has ever had them, had always come with sadness. Until she realizes the one thing she’d forgotten.

And Hope could kick herself it’s so obvious.

Alaric stops, looking at her, waiting. He can probably see the odd epiphany on her face but doesn’t want to ask. “It’s not in the past,” Hope mumbles, to herself more than Alaric. He pushes with a what but she doesn’t answer. Instead, Hope sets her feet on the ground, she closes her eyes. She starts again, back at the memory of Lizzie’s hands on her shoulders just three nights before, of the room of requirement when they were kids, of that perfect day at Hogsmeade, of every night since then. Each memory comes out of it easily from there. It warms her chest and fills her with the very thing she’s looking for; happiness, so unfamiliar and so much so that Hope nearly cries. Clearing her throat, she covers the choking sound it makes with the shouted words of the spell she’d been too terrified to embrace for years. “Expecto Patronum!”

She shouts it so loudly, and with so much confidence that Hope is sure they can hear it in every other office in the ministry. The image of Lizzie and her patronus plays over it in her head, the sound of the same words in Lizzie’s proud inflection. And Hope is sure her mind is playing tricks on her when she opens her eyes and sees the white light, an image not entirely unlike the one Lizzie had conjured standing in front of a stunned Alaric. It’s a thestral. Hope would know the figure anywhere. But this one isn’t frightening or chilling. This one is white, glowing, warm. Hope stares at it, wide eyed with her wand extended still until it gallops away and out of sight.

Without thinking, Hope follows it. Not to chase after it per say, but to find the happiness that brought it again. She doesn’t see the beaming look on Alaric’s face or hear him asking where she’s going. Hope just keeps running, out of his office, through the winding halls of the ministry to where Lizzie is holed up in the library, no doubt searching for a solution to this very problem. Hope doesn’t say anything when she all but pulls her out of the chair by her robes, not entirely unlike the thousand times Lizzie had pinned her or pulled her just the same. Hope kisses her still without speaking, against the books on a towering shelf, burying any questions with the desperate intensity of the gesture and her fingers refusing to let up on their grip. Her chest begins to ache, and it isn’t warmth or happiness this time it’s the sheer lack of oxygen and Hope finally releases the kiss but doesn’t let go of Lizzie. “It was you,” she whispers, breathless and heavy but the smile on her face is light and bewildered.

“Oh no,” Lizzie stares back, wide eyed “it’s finally happened hasn’t it? You’ve lost it. Or was it my dad? Did you hit your head? Did he hit your head? I’ll stage an intervention if you’re going to start cracking up on me. I might only listen to half the things you say but I’d still like your head in one piece.”

Hope doesn’t stop her. She only shakes her head, her own lower lip tucked between her teeth to keep from grinning too much. “No -- no I did it,” she finally answers. “I finally found the right memory, ones that were really happy, ones that worked. They were of you -- It’s you Lizzie.”

It takes a minute. No snarky, deadpan retort follows. Lizzie’s eyes change like she’s processing. Confusion to understanding to something glossy eyed and choked up. “Of course it was me. How could you not have tried that sooner?” The words are watery, entirely not serious but she has a go at humor anyway and Hope laughs all the same. Hope kisses her again, finally takes her fingers from their grip on Lizzie’s robes and wraps them in her hair instead, pulling their bodies tighter together. Lizzie kisses her back this time, far less caught off guard but still definitely reeling.

“What was it?” It’s Lizzie who finally breaks up their moment.

“Huh?”

“Your patronus. You’ve seen mine. What was yours? Wait -- no. I’ll guess. A terrier.”

Hope lightly shoves her shoulder with the palm of her hand. “Hilarious. No. It was -- “ she stops, unsure if somehow this ruins the brilliance of it, if Lizzie has eve even seen a thestral. But Hope’s certain she at least knows what they are. “It was a thestral,” she answers a little less proud.

“No freaking way.”

“What? Yours is a literal winged horse, Lizzie.”

“You one-upped me,” Lizzie retorts fast and scoffing. “You even had to one up my patronus.”

She’s laughing, thankfully. For a brief second Hope worries it’s not a joke. But their competitive nature is a part of them now, and Lizzie stopped measuring them against one another a long time ago. This is just a game and Hope is happy to play along. Grinning, she kisses Lizzie again, presses her back just a little harder against the bookshelf on her tip toes and closes her eyes, filing this memory away for the next time.

#hizzie #hope x lizzie #hizzie fanfic #hope mikaelson #lizzie saltzman #dont say i never gave you anything liz #r: hizzie #o: fic #my fic #listne i just got obsessed with the angsty idea that hope can't conjure a patronus

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fyrapartnersearch · 5 years

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Seeking a partner for a long term sci-fi rp that involves aliens for discord,kik or hangouts

Hello everybody! It’s me Lotoliderden and I’m just your average twenty year old aussie who loves to rp. Recently I’ve been having a few cravings for an rp where the use of the awesome genre of sci-fi with the guarantee of extraterrestrial life forms exists. I’ve got a few ideas that I’ve decided I’ll put down below. Please remember that these are just ideas and we do not have to do them, they’re simply just examples and I’m always open to brainstorming an rp idea with anyone interested. Rp idea one: alien space academy Aliens. Aliens are creatures who come in all different types, shapes and sizes. Some are big, some are small. some are scary while others are just that little bit extraordinary. Aliens didn’t always get along with each other, there were many fights and wars before the leaders of each alien race came together to negotiate a peace treaty. Thanks to the treaty aliens could live amongst one another without fear of a war happening. Not everyone accepted the peace treaty however, there were still some aliens who were more than happy to encourage a fuss. This was one of the struggles of academy life, what you were could determine whether or not you were accepted by everyone else. Rp idea two: royals and forbidden love Y/C is the prince/princess of an alien kingdom and the future ruler. M/C is leader of the royal guard/servant/ or a commoner. Y/C dreams for a life outside the walls of their palace and sneaks off one night for just a little taste of the non royal life. Y/C encounters trouble in the streets and M/C rescues them not knowing who they are. Seeing this as a way of escaping the life Y/C is sick of they start to leave the palace more often in the hopes that M/C will come across them again. What starts as an unexpected friendship between two aliens turns into something more. Rp idea three: I hate you, I love you, I hate that I love you M/C and Y/C had always been rivals. Everyone who’d ever known them knew that. Something had just never clicked between the two of them that allowed M/C and Y/C to even tolerate each other’s presence. When Y/C is the captain of a battleship and M/C is just a regularly crew member working onboard the same ship M/C is furious and does everything they can to disobey orders without putting anyone at risk. When the ship is attacked and Y/C and M/C are the only survivors they realise that in order to survive what’s been thrown at them they need to work together. An uneasy truce is formed which takes an unexpected turn as to grow closer than they ever thought they would. Again, please remember that these are just examples and that we do not have to do them or do them in the exact way they’ve been written. Now before anyone messages me saying their interested I’ve got a few requirements you need to fulfill in order to rp with me. They’re in a list down below. 1: you must be literate, write in the third person, have decent spelling and grammar and give me 5-6 lines per response. No asterisks, one liners, one worders or poorly fleshed out sentences please. 2: no godmodding, Mary Sues, Gary Stu’s,op characters,self inserts, rping as yourself, being overly submissive, being overly dominant, pretending that you know everything about my characters or their species, making carbon copies of my character or one from a fandom, having a character that’s made only of flaws. 3: while I would prefer my partner to be an alien I don’t care if you rp as a human/furry/anthro/alien/ kangawallafox/ etc. 4: you must be 18+ (youngest age I’ll accept is 18). I’m twenty and would get into lots of trouble for rping with a minor. No amount of “oh but I’m legal here.” Or “I’m underage but okay with it.” Will convince me. The same goes for your characters. 5: please make sure this is something you have time for, all too often I get rpers who are willing to rp but then get swamped by work or something else. No it’s not your sole purpose in life to rp with me but if you cannot even have a cup of coffee because you’re so busy then you’re probably too busy to rp. 6: you must be able to reply once or more a day at the very most and once or twice a week at the very least. Any longer than a week without a reply and I’ll assume interest has been lost. 7: if something is wrong never hesitate to message me and talk about it. I’m always happy to listen to my partner and discuss problems and sort them out. 8: please do not message me once then never answer me again. I will not tolerate ghosting.please also message me to let me know if you’re going to be unable to respond for a while so I know you haven’t just left. I don’t want to know why you disappeared for five minutes but I do want to know why you’ve seemingly disappeared off earth yet you’re online. 9: please do not message me asking for a fandom rp or an rp that isn’t sci-fi. I’m not currently looking for fandoms or genres other than sci-fi at the moment. 10: you must be comfortable with dark themes, adult themes and NSFW themes (I do not fade to black). Please also be comfortable with play as/with non human characters/characters with disabilities and characters who are LGBT+. 11: do not control my characters in anyway. How they think/feel/act/see/smell/taste/etc is up to me. I will not accept people controlling my characters or dictating their actions. 12: you must have either discord, kik or hangouts. I will not rp on any other platform. That’s hopefully not too much to ask for. Down below is a list about me. 1: I’m literate, write in the third person and do 5-6 lines at the least and paragraphs at the most. 2: I only rp as male characters but I’m open to same sex pairings. I do not have face claims or pictures of my characters, only descriptions. 3: I like to rp as non human characters but I do not mind rping as a human if my partner has requested it and we’ve discussed an idea that requires human main characters. 4: my characters are all remade, very rarely will I make up a new character for an rp. 5: I live in the eastern Australian time zone. Your Timezone will not be an issue and I’m available almost every hour of the day provided I’m not asleep. 6: I don’t mind romance but it must be slow burn. I do not do faced pace love at first sight and romance and smut are sub plots only. My characters are switches but they’re submissive switches, they will also be less likely to initiate any romance. 7: I love brainstorming ideas with my partner and chatting about non rp related stuff ooc. Ladies and gentlemen we are almost through this mammoth of a post. This last little bit Is about romance. I only do slow burn romance, I do not like rushed or forced romance in anyway. I also only do switch dynamics since I do not like top/bottom dynamics. Please do not force any fetishes on me without asking if I’m okay with them. I have my limits and you must respect those li it’s just like I’ll respect yours. If I’ve expressed being uncomfortable about something please do not push it. Down below is a little list of the kinda pairings I like. 1:FxM 2: MxM 3: prince/ princess/king/queen x commoner/guard/knight 4: captain or other high ranking officer x lower ranking officer 5: bully x victim 6: rivals 7: hate to love 8: any forbidden romance between two consenting adults For those who have read every little bit of this thank you! Please do not hesitate to contact me and my contact information is down below. Do not hesitate to come to me with an idea as I’ll happily hear it. My discord is: tiberionsunsconqourer#6187 My kik is: Tiberionconqueror My hangouts is: [email protected] Can’t wait to rp with anyone interested!

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #para #long term #smut rp #submission

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kaibagirl007 · 5 years

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Father’s Day

(a stand-alone story set in my Blueshipping RP verse with @dragontamer05 )

“Happy Fathers Day, Dad,” Mokuba said softly before dropping the white chrysanthemum onto the lake’s surface. He stood there with Yugi by his side and watched as the flower floated away from them to join the rest that had been dropped before it. “Thanks for coming here with me today.”

“You’re welcome,” Yugi replied before giving another moment of silence for the man who he had recently learned had drowned there in a car accident over a decade ago and left two young boys orphaned as a result. “I’m sorry we didn’t encounter your brother like you’d hoped.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure he’s either already been or is waiting until after the time we usually come here in order to avoid seeing me.” Mokuba tried to hide his disappointment and just how much he was missing his brother since their fallout several months ago. Having been there for nearly a half hour, he turned to leave and attempted to divert the subject. “Do you miss your father? You know, with him being away from home all the time?”

There was a moment of silence as Yugi mulled over his answer with an awkward feeling inside of him. Since the other had shared something personal in regards to his father’s death, he felt it only fair to return the gesture. “People tend to have a misconception about my father. Many believe him to be absent due to work commitments, but the truth is… he was never there to begin with. He walked out on my mom before I was born.”

Mokuba was surprised to hear this, especially after the response he’d gotten from Mrs Muto herself after having asked if Yugi’s father would be home with them for the occasion; which he ‘unfortunately’ wouldn’t be. “But your Mom and Grandpa said-“

“It’s all lies. What started out as a story to protect my mother from the social stigma of being a single parent, snowballed into something much bigger as I got older.” Yugi smiled with a hint of sadness to his tone yet even managed to laugh a little as he recalled, “They’d send me fake letters and birthday cards to make him seem believable. I used to love reading all about ‘my father’s’ travels and got super excited each time one of his letters came in the mail. I never really questioned it all until a few years back when I started to notice the resemblance between his stories and Grandpa’s. I confronted them both and learnt the truth.”

“Wow… that must have been hard on you. Them too I guess.” Mokuba commented after hearing what Yugi had had to say. “Were you mad at them for lying to you?”

“For a little while, but it soon passed,” Yugi nodded as he remembered that betrayed feeling, similar to how a child who had just discovered that Santa Claus wasn’t real felt. “As I’m sure you know, family isn’t about having a mom and/or a dad, nor how many members are apart of it. At times it’s not even about blood relations, but rather the people in your life who want you in theirs. Those who accept you for who you are, who would do anything to see you smile and will love you no matter what.”

There was a moment of silence.

“You think Seto still loves me?” Mokuba asked with teary eyes.

“I know he does.” Yugi wrapped an arm around a now crying Mokuba and pulled him close as they walked back towards the city. “He’s going through a difficult time with his break-up with Kisara. Losing a love like that hurts and you got caught in his emotional firing line. Just give him some space for a while. You and he will be back on speaking terms before you know it.”

Mokuba’s pursed lips wobbled as he nodded in response to the assurance and advice that had been given. He then took out his phone from his pocket and completed his Father’s Day traditions.

— — —

Stood in the kitchen of his mansion, Kaiba gulped back a full glass of water before leaving the glassware beside the sink with the other mountain of dishes that awaited his maid’s attention, which wouldn’t be for another couple of days still. His phone buzzed in his pocket to indicate he’d received a text message. He rather lazily pulled it out, expecting it to be from one of his business associates, but was surprised to see his brother’s name displayed on the screen and smiled a little in disbelief.

[TEXT from Mokie] Happy Father’s Day!

It had been so long since he’d last heard from Mokuba and the sentiment almost brought tears to his eyes. Even after their fallout, his brother still loved him enough to think of him on such a special day. He replied with an automated: Thanks.

‘What exactly IS Father’s Day?’ Seto asked as he made a ghostly appearance beside his descendant, the tearful feeling having stirred him from quietly residing inside the other’s mind.

“It’s a celebration honouring fathers and paternal bonds,” Kaiba replied as he pocketed his phone.

‘And your brother views you as such?’

What the fuck do you think?

‘Okay, no need to get snarky.’ Seto declared after having sensed the sarcastic and irritated tone used towards him via the other’s thoughts. ‘Out of curiosity, are the dead excluded from such honouring?’

“Not that I’m aware.” Deciding that he was still thirsty and unable to remember which glass he had just drunk from, Kaiba reached for a clean one and poured himself more water from the filter-jug in the refrigerator.

‘If the dead are not excluded, then why are you not honouring your own father?’

Was he really going to have this conversation? Kaiba stared at his doppelgänger. “Which father are you referring to? The one who made my life a nightmare because I beat him in a game of chess, or the one who tried to murder me?”

As much as Kaiba regretted the fallout with Mokuba, at least this Father’s Day he was relieved to not be forced to visit the lake where they’d nearly drowned and have to pretend to mourn the piece of shit that had tried to take them with him in the suicide car sinking. Of course, he would never reveal the man’s true motive to his brother who had been too young to remember things from that time,- poor kid already suffered enough with sharing his birthday with their mother’s death,- and would see Mokuba remembered one parent fondly... Even if it was a lie.

Seto sensed the other’s bitterness. ‘He was your father who LOVED you, and you’ve chosen to hate him based on a single mistake during his most desperate time?’

Since when did attempting to kill two innocent boys qualify as a mistake?! But if you want to play devil’s advocate, game on! Kaiba calmly placed his glass down on the countertop, proving just how much restraint he had on himself at that moment as the anger currently felt for his birth father would have caused the glass to shatter if slammed like he wanted to. “I could say the very same about your father. Does he not deserve to be honoured on this day?”

‘How dare you even suggest Aknadin be honoured! What he did was EVIL!’

As expected, a nerve had been touched. “Abandoning you in order to massacre an entire village aside, did he not mentor, nurture and guide you down the path that led you to become the honourable man you became? Isn’t THAT the true purpose of a father? To help his child be and attain the best in life? You can’t deny he failed you in that respect.”

‘You seem to be forgetting that he tried to manipulate me into killing the woman I loved before killing her himself!’ Seto countered back, well aware that the other was trying,- and succeeding,- to infuriate him.

As if riling the other about his father hadn’t been enough, dismissing all knowledge of past Kisara was the icing on the cake. “As I recall, you ran him straight through afterwards, so that evens that score between you both.”

‘WHY YOU!!!’ Seto’s fist clenched tightly and he swung at the smug face staring back at him only for his fist to have no effect as it passed right through Kaiba’s head. He growled in frustration, ’I WISH I had a physical form to be able to pummel some sense and compassion into you!’

“I was thinking the exact same thing so I could strike you.”

‘You were…? Then how come I failed to hear that thought?’ Seto’s rhetorical question was asked aloud before he remembered that Kaiba had just taken some ‘medication’ before he’d appeared on the scene and that was the reason why he was now blocked from the other’s mind. ’Oh no, what did you take this time?’

Kaiba raised his brows high as he shrugged. “The pills weren’t marked. I was just instructed to not take more than one.”

‘And how many DID you take?’

“Three.”

‘Are you trying to kill yourself with all these narcotics?!’

“Live or die, I really don’t care anymore.” Kaiba drawled before raising his glass to his lips and drained the entire thing in several gulps.

‘What about Mokuba and Kisara? Do you not care about them?’

The now empty glass was added beside his first glass amongst the mountain of dishes as Kaiba’s aching dispirited mind cried; Of course care, that’s WHY I want this feeling to STOP!

#my crappy writing #fanfiction #yugioh #mokuba kaiba #yugi muto #seto kaiba #priest seto #father's day #rp stuff #dragontamer05 #just because I was in the mood to write this #^^;#I'll answer messages and reply to RPs tomorrow ;>.>

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moonlit-nightingale · 5 years

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.:RP:. Bumbling Budding

Characters: Saranqerel Qalli (male Xaela), Khabataaq Buduga (male Xaela)

Rating: General.

Origin Date: 12 Jan 2019

Khabi arrives at Sari’s home to pick up him for their date at a customer’s Bonding ceremony. But...is something wrong? Khabi to the rescue!

(Sari in plain text, Khabi in italics!)

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A bonding tonight. This would be the first time Sari ever saw an Eorzean one. Even now with the Clan, most things were still in the Eastern sense. Not that there'd been any marriages he could think of lately... Dain and Kotori's was so quiet, he didn't even remember it. Maybe he and Khabi would be the first.

Instant blush. NO SARI! You're thinking too far ahead! For now, immediate problems.

Like trying to figure out why nice light silvery colored hair /refused/ to dye! This should have been easier than when he'd last dyed his hair, back when it was still black. The color simply wouldn't stick! He'd gone through an entire bottle of the dark black dye already, the poor wash basin looking like someone spilt an inkwell down it. But all it had succeeded in doing was making the silver turn into a darker smoky grey! Was this part of the curse? The fox wanted him to wear permanent reminders? It's why these red marks about his face still lingered, even after an embarrassing attempt to wear makeup over them once. It was the same thing. His curse would always be visible for others to see.

A sigh as the Qalli opened up another bottle. He wore lounge pants, towel about his shoulders, shirt hung up after his shower, door closed. Consideration for his guests.

It was a waiting that normally wouldn't have bothered Khabataaq, at least not as much as it was today. Sari had left the Carbuncle's Cup to take care of something, he'd said.

Just around the time that Khabataaq had finally begun to muster the courage to talk to the Qalli about Batuqai. Khabataaq hadn't argued then, relieved to have an excuse to stall, to avoid this conversation that was making him feel sick to his stomach just thinking about, even if it was just for an hour or two. But the waiting turned out to be so much worse. And... a much longer wait than he'd been expecting.

He found himself at Sari's door, torn between leaving and stepping inside. Sari had needed to take care of something. Khabataaq should leave him be. He shouldn't be pushy. But if he had to run through this conversation one more time in his head, if he had to play out his words and try to guess what Sari's responses would be, if he had to stand that for one more minute he was worried he might break.

So he opened the door before he could stop himself, stepping lightly into the Qalli's entryway. It was empty and quiet. Maybe Khal and Yesu were gone? Oh... maybe Sari wasn't here after all, but somewhere else? He tapped cautiously down the staircase, knocking on the wall as he neared the bottom floor. "...Sari?"

Downstairs, the small male raised his head, hair all over his face and in the basin as he was in the middle of attempt two. Now he knew why this wasn't so hard last time. He didn't have this much hair! The wavy mess fell almost to his hips nowadays if left loose and brushed. Had he taken that long that Khabi had come over? Oh what a mess.

"I'm down here!" he called. Oh yeah, Khaljar and Yesui had taken lil Tuya out for a walk. The family wasn't one to stay quiet and boarded up in a room. "Sorry, I'm having some...issues. But I'm alright!" Oh his hands, well, hand was likely to be stained after this as he combed the black dye in again. "Sorry to make you wait!" His dress clothes were still hanging off the back of the door.

...Issues? Scenarios ran through Khabataaq's mind as he tried to comprehend what that could possibly mean, some more terrifying than others. Sari was just getting ready, wasn't he? It hadn't taken Khabataaq long to get ready, dressed in his nice slacks, boots, and jacket. Maybe Sari was having issues with a tie, as well? Admittedly, Khabataaq had asked Michiko to tie it for him the day before, and he'd just slipped it on and tightened it up to fit this afternoon. Cheating, maybe, but Khabataaq needed all the help he could get.

What if the issues were something more severe? Some pain or struggle with his arm? Pain with his burns or eye? He crossed from the staircase to stand a few fulms from the bathroom door, but didn't stray further. "It's no trouble, we still have time." He thought. He was never good at judging time, to be honest. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine! Shoo!"

A black covered hand stuck out from the door which was cracked open.

"Nothing to worry about, promise! Play with Creamsicle for a bit. He's been in a mood today. I think it's because of all the people around!"

The hand retreated as Sari went to turn the water on and leaned over to try and wash the dye out for attempt number two. He wasn't a vain man by any means but he wasn't fond of the idea of going to such an important event with hilarity for hair! Maybe he had a hat somewhere.

The mechanical hand stuck out from the doorway to shoo him away, and Khabataaq relaxed a touch. Well, clearly the gesture was a sign that Sari was fine, right? Maybe Creamsicle would let him play with a toy this time, rather than just jump for his ankles.

...Wait. It was the other hand that was magitek, wasn't it?

"Sari?! Your hand...?!" Memories of waking up to find the other with white hair and marked eyes spurred him forward. More damage from the curse? Khabataaq's hand shot between the door and the frame to keep from being closed out, and before he could consider the consequences he threw the bathroom door open.

The outburst had Sari jumping into the air, water and dye going simply everywhere. Fortunately none on the well-dressed Khabataaq!

Hair was all in the Qalli's face, shoulders, and back as he'd jumped in surprise. That one eye wide. Fortunately the dye that HAD washed out so far was staying...kinda. Sorta. Into a dark blue.

"K-KHABI! What are you doing?!"

Khabataaq reeled in the doorway, thoughts flying back and forth between the instincts of 'retreat' and 'protect' so feverishly he almost made himself light headed.

"Y-your... hand?! Your skin is... and your... hair...." ...Hair? His hair was dark? An easy conclusion to come to, if the poor Xaela's mind wasn't thoroughly scrambled by this moment of confusion and panic. In fact, he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to be panicking over anymore.

"Th-that... curse, with the fox, and... white hair, and...." That look of horror in the other's blue eye was undeniable, wasn't it? Khabataaq slapped his free hand across his face to cover his eyes, but he refused to move, not until he knew something bad hadn't happened. "What's happening? Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine!" he repeated loudly again. The mess of hair was swept into one bundle over his shoulder, water and dye still dripping and it was an effort to keep the mess over the basin. "I...was trying to make my hair darker. And it's not going well." A sulk. "It was supposed to be a surprise." The sulking glare to his partner was a mix between puppy eyes and fatherly disappointment. "And you ruined it."

A surprise? That hand covering his eyes strayed down in confusion, but just a glimpse of the damp, shirtless Qalli snaps it back up to cover his vision with embarrassment.

Unfortunately, he didn't hide quick enough to be spared from those puppy dog eyes.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I just saw... the dye, and... suddenly worried it was maybe something to do with...." As the fear for Sari's safety settled the panic shifted into a different sort; horror, mostly, towards the scene he'd just caused, from his misunderstanding, from the embarrassment he'd just caused Sari. "I'm sorry!"

Khabataaq slammed the door shut, hiding his face against the hallway wall, arms wrapped around his head, already well along into a furious blush. But he hesitated for a moment, standing there with his face pressed against the wall, and when he spoke again his voice was small.

"...Do you need help?"

The sulking shifted more to amusement at the continued overreaction of the other ex-Buduga. He leaned down to continue washing the rest of the excess out since the poor water had been running all this time. A smile pulled at his lips as things calmed and he was able to look back at the very..confusing and quick series of events!

"Thank you for worry, Khabi. Really. But when I say things are alright, they are. I'm almost done anyway. " Most times. Fingers combed through the hair. Silver remained at the tips, stubborn, but the majority had at least accepted some of the darkening. He had a feeling not for long. It would be quite a bit of maintenance. Damn curse, making even simple aesthetic things like this difficult. The mess was washed down the sink and he grabbed an older towel to dry everything out. The door was opened as he ran the towel through his hair, peeking around for the other man.

Oh, what an amusing sight that was. But...that lil cruel streak that was in Sari was squirming. "You do know...that you can be in the washroom with me, aye? We are courting." Though it took effort not to turn red at that.

But Khabataaq was not going to emerge from his hiding place, nope. Not yet. He was far too mortified.

"N-n-not like that, though, not when I burst in without permission." The last few ilms of his tail flicked from side to side with distress. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just... I should have believed you. I shouldn't have panicked."

Always worrying about things not said, lies to keep him in the dark or to hold him at arms length. He needed to stop thinking that way. He knew he did. But it was so difficult.

That long tail flicked. His tease hadn't worked at all, had it? It was the only way he could think to lessen the anxiety and tension in moments like this. The dye-stained towel was rested back around his shoulders and he reached to gently touch Khabi's shoulder. "It's alright for you to worry and...to want to come and make sure I was alright. Thank you for that. And you know..."

Goodness, this could make it worse. "...some couples enjoy being burst in on like that."

Those words put Khabataaq at ease. He hadn't offended Sari, then. He hadn't annoyed him. Hesitantly, knowing full well that flush hadn't fully faded from his features, Khabataaq peeked out from behind his arm with one pale eye, reassured by that hand on his shoulder.

But it was a short lived calm.

"Wh...wuh-wait, is that what you... thought I was...?" Is that why he'd looked so startled?! Khabataaq whirled to face Sari, his voice coming out higher than he probably intended. "I-Is that why you were so surprised?! It was nothing like that, I pr-"

...Wait.

Sari certainly knew him well enough by know to know better, didn't he?

Khabataaq's lips pursed in what he meant to look like a stern expression, but comes across instead as a pout. "You're teasing me."

A grin was quick to spread across his face at that and Sari laughed, too late to cover his mouth and stifle it. "How could I help it? You looked mortified. I vanquished the evil hair dye on my own but I thank you for you assistance in the matter, Khabi."

Back and forth that serpentine tail went in his ever-amusement!

The blush returned but this time it wasn't crippling, accompanied this time with a reluctant laugh that ruined the illusion of his pout. Oh well. That was always a hard expression to hold, anyways.

Khabataaq's posture straightened a bit as his embarrassment faded, and he looked pointedly down at Sari's dyed hand. "I don't think you made it through the battle unscathed, though," he said, some shy, playful grin playing at his lips. "Or is that part of the look?"

A blink and he looked down. Sari sighed. "It took two bottles...of course there were losses in the battle. It matches my other one though, almost." He held up both hands, the black metal of the magitek and his black smeared flesh one and wiggled his fingers.

Khabataaq giggled at the gesture, the flustered flicking of his tail finally calming to a contented sway. "That's what I thought, at first! It had me fooled!" Another chuckle, then a bit of shyness leaked back into his smile. "Your hair, it looks... I like it." The tail picked up speed, bashful. "What made you decide to change it?" He remembered Sari considering the idea before, but it hadn't been brought up since.

Finally a deep blush at those words. "It'll look better when it dries...but um, you said you liked it darker so..."

A blink at that, and his eyebrows arch. "Because of something I said?" That had clearly not been the answer Khabataaq had been expecting, and it visibly caught him off guard. "You... you dyed it because I liked it?"

A shy nod and he looked up, tail curling a bit in anxiety. Not a bad kind, not at all. In fact, it was one he wasn't used to feeling. "L-like I said, it'll look better when it dries. And I couldn't get it black like you said you liked. The curse won't let me. This is as close as I could get it." He was rambling, wasn't he? "Two bottles of the darkest that I could find in the market stalls. And you're only supposed to use half normally so technically I did four treatments and it's still like this."

Another blink. That much thought, that much planning and work, just for something he'd mentioned liking in passing?

He wasn't sure if anyone had ever done anything like that for him before.

Khabataaq's face broke out into a smile, confusion lightening from his features. "That's alright...! I love it!" The smile turns into a beam. "I liked your hair no matter the color, it's just when it's darker... it reminds me of when I met you." A slight blush dusted his cheeks. "I'm sorry it turned out to be so much trouble."

Hearing the praise on something that was so superficial was something he wasn't used to. It was silly. But this was sincere praise on his appearance. Not taunting, not empty flirts to win him over, it felt different and it warmed him. Sari didn't spend a terrible amount of time on appearances and looks. And perhaps some of that was due to his past. He'd wanted not to be noticed, to fade into the masses and not be seen or be targeted.

Now...he kind of wanted to.

The praise made his tail uncurl and swish back and forth a bit. "...no sorry. I'm just happy that you like it." Sari went to his tiptoes and stole a quick smooch on the lips.

Something that was so simple and mundane to most, maybe, but made Khabataaq almost giddy, tail sweeping behind him. "I do, very much." For multiple reasons; he liked the look, he liked what the gesture meant. But there was hesitance to voice them, as if speaking would lessen their importance.

He arched a brow in a playful, questioning scowl, but the effect was ruined by that permanent smile. "But... if you still need to get dressed, and dry your hair... are you sure you'll be ready in time?"

A look to the chronometer on the wall. "Oh, I'll have time! Have a snack or drink, I need to finish up!" And skitter Sari did back into the washroom. He had a few tricks to dry his hair quick but he still wanted to pay attention to detail for the respect of the couple being bonded!

Khabataaq copied the glance towards the chronometer, but it was mostly just for show. He still hadn't quite figured out how to read those things, not without a shameful amount of effort. He turned back just in time to see Sari whirl to dart back into the washroom, that now-dark hair sweeping behind him, and an impulse found him. An impulse he decided to let run wild without second guessing, this time.

His hand lurched out again to catch the door. But this time, he would quickly return Sari's earlier kiss should the Qalli turn to look at him, a kiss that came across far bolder than he intended, thanks to his haste. An embarrassed grin then, before stammering through the words, "A snack, and play with Creamsicle, right? I can do that." Then he would sweep the door partially closed again for Sari's privacy before hurrying upstairs.

Indeed the motion had Sari look back in confusion only to be met with the kiss that nearly bowled the smaller man over! Oh my. Before he could really register what happened, Khabi was gone. ...oh, sneaky man! He'd get him back. Bright red, he went to continue getting ready.

#roleplay #his shelter; khabataaq #cutie adorkables

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the-colony-roleplay · 5 years

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COLONY 22′S 2ND ANNUAL APPRECIATION AWARDS

Oh, how much could change in a year.

Alex Donovan remembered last year, as disinclined as he’d been to agree to be one of the three hosts for the night, how he’d watched the frantic decorating committee’ and thought: well at least I’m not one of those unfortunate fools.

And this year, well—he was very nearly one of those unfortunate fools. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he was one of a ‘committee’, but he’d been helping bring out boxes to the decorating team all ever-loving day, and several hours ago they’d begun asking his opinion on things and he’d declined to answer at first. But somehow, come 4pm, he’d found himself up to his neck in garlands and twinkle lights and about to be late for his afternoon training session.

When he walked into the auditorium after dinner (sporting black trousers, a white T-shirt and a deep blue blazer) he had to admit he was impressed. And maybe just a little proud. Because looking around, the room had truly been transformed. A lot of hard work and love had gone into it, clearly, and if nothing else, it would surely make Mitch beam. And Heaven bless that ever-optimistic, selfless man—he deserved at least that this season. It made any suffering on Alex’s part worth it, knowing the event was that much more likely to be the success that the original Calyset Head of House dreamed it would be.

What set this year apart from the last—aside from the Reformist-shaped elephant in the room—is that they’d gone full out traditional Christmas this year. Not wintery blues and silvers (a good thing, too, because it may have just been a throw back to the Modius’ Brink Tower reopening—not a failure by any means, but just a sore spot on the roof of the mouths of too many here), but instead, warm and boasting golds and reds and forest greens. Rich colours hung from the walls and pillars in thick tapestries and glowing lights. Ribbons and wreaths and candles sprinkled the room with a bursting festiveness, and not one, but three Christmas trees brightened up the room—even the damaged areas, rubble and broken seats simply became the contrasting foundation of effervescent decorations.

There was even mistletoe. In one or two surreptitious places, waiting patiently for unsuspecting victims.

Okay... so it did look a little like Christmas had thrown up all over the old theatre. But hell—if that was its worst flaw, they had nothing to complain about in their post-apocalyptic today.

People filtered in slowly, chatting and laughing and mingling about, making comments about their outfits, the decor... and Alex supposed that even those who thought the night a waste of time, at the very least, it couldn’t be said that it hadn’t already brought a certain atmosphere of light-hearted relief over the modest, island Colony. Even if just for a night.

At about a quarter after seven, the house lights faded in and out three times, a voice coming over the loud speaker to ask that people take their seats, as the ceremonies were about to start. Taking that as his queue (and Christ, he still couldn’t believe Mitch had asked him to do the opening speech this year—though somehow the fact that Alex had been convinced was less of a surprise, considering his track record with being unable to tell that man no, for just about anything) Alex politely excused himself from his conversation with Cambie, and threw Caelan a grin and a wink when he spotted him striding by with Isha and Clay. Left a smile and a light touch on Clayton’s elbow as they crossed each other’s paths.

And then he was trotting up stage steps, with people still settling into their seats. The lights dimmed, a spotlight panned over to him, and applause grew from the crowd. Chuckling, eyes cast down as he shook his head, he found his place at the podium:

“Good evening, Colony 22. I’d like to start off by saying thank you, to everyone who worked so hard to make this night happen—and that includes all of you who have participated just by being in attendance tonight. Truly, we appreciate it. Because it’s not just about the decorations or the preparation, the drinks or the snacks—though I’m sure the food and drink is the main reason most of you even bothered to show up,” he paused, grinning. “But it’s impossible to nurture a sense of community without all of you—the community. So thank you.” Another pause, and he pointed a wagging finger at Mitch in the second row. “And if nothing else, you can all go home knowing that you’ve put a shit-eating grin on that man’s face—which is apparently how I got suckered into opening tonight’s ceremonies. So while we’re at it, if any of you figure out how to say no to Mr. Douglas, please be sure to come by my office later and loop me in. Preferably before he asks me about doing this again next year.”

A warm, light chuckle from the audience, and with a smile, Alex continued. “Now, as you’re all aware, I’m not Mitch. I have no poetic to weave you about the trials and tribulations we face on a daily basis and how they bring us together in strength and unity. But that isn’t to say what he has said, and what this night now represents is not of value. In fact, I very much believe it to be true. In times such as these, in the face of change and conflict and rebellion, now more than ever it’s important to remember how we got this far. How we have survived, and how we continue to survive. Because we have not done it through selfishness, or greed. We have not accomplished as much as we have by functioning only as every person for themselves. We have gotten this far through cooperation and support. Through contribution and sacrifice, comfort and strength.

“I have been here next to three years now, and I have watched so many of you grow, and I am so proud of each and every one of you. What I think is too easy to forget in all of this, is that after what we’ve all faced, every day done is an accomplishment. Every day, we could choose to give up, to turn back, or throw in the towel. Rebuilding is hard. Starting over in the face of loss can feel impossible. So remember to take the time to recognize that.” He paused, threw a grin at the audience. “Well, look at that, I guess I did have some poetic to weave. Kindly blame Douglas for that too, would you?”

As the audience laughed again, Alex straightened, his tone lightening. “Alright, I’m not going to tell you too much about the awards themselves—I’ll leave that to our lovely hosts, whom I’m very excited to call to the stage and not just because then I can get the hell out of here. But before I do that, I’ll remind you that after the ceremonies there is a reception down at Catch 22, where they’ll be serving food and drinks, and I believe I heard a rumour or two about dancing and karaoke. For which I plan on making myself very scarce. But nevertheless, have an excellent time tonight, happy holidays, and congratulations on wrapping up another fantastic year.

“And now without further adieu—may I present your hosts for this evening: Orson Hurst, Elsa Copland and Mouse Quinley.”

A/N: AND SO IT BEGINS!!!

Well folks... Welcome to the last event of 2018! It has not just been a good year at Colony 22, but a spectacular one. I feel like we too, (much like our characters in verse,) have special cause for celebration—not only do we have our fifth year anniversary coming up, but this year has gifted us so many excellent, long-term members joining the family and exciting new plots, characters and development.

This event will punctuate the year with a bit of light hearted fun that we hope will lead nicely into an exciting 2019 at the Colony, which Lottie and I already have big plans for. We thank you all for being here, for your commitment, enthusiasm and love, and we hope you all stay with us here and continue to write and grow with us for a long time to come!

Now, most of the information you need about the Event Rules themselves I have already posted in detail and you can find here. Make sure you are familiar with them before starting, if you are new to events at the Colony. And if you’re not new, well, it never hurts to have a refresher!

A friendly reminder to send any questions you have about the event to the main blog ASK as we’d prefer to answer them publicly so the knowledge can be shared with everyone, as it’s likely that if you have a question, someone else may be wondering the same thing!

Remember too that this post marks the beginning of the first part of the evening: The Ceremonies only. You are welcome to RP anything that is leading up to the ceremonies, or during, but nothing past into the reception, until you see a post on the mod blog indicated the shift to the second part of the night, which won’t be until after (our real time) Christmas!

Over the next few days, you will see nomination and award reveals on the main blog, and as mentioned in the info post already posted (and linked above), you may continue old threads, or start new ones that are event related (self paras or graphics work too! Just remember that if you make any graphics in photoshop or anything send them to the graphics blog to be posted!)

Keep in mind that activity will still be monitored over Christmas. I still expect you to meet activity, and I still expect you to contact the main if you need an extension before I have to go chasing you down. The holidays are stressful enough—please do not send me on a wild goose chase. That said, I obviously get it: Holidays can be stressful and busy! So just let us know if you need an extension or hiatus!

I will do everything in my power to make sure all the awards are queued and posted promptly and when they’ve been promised—but if something comes up, things may shift a little here and there—nothing that should have too much of an effect though. The Reception will hopefully be triggered sometime between the 27th and 29th, depending on schedules.

Alright, I believe thats all I got for now! But happy holidays everyone, and enjoy! The first awards post will likely roll out here in a few hours!

Much love,

xxPapa!Mod

#col22awards2 #col22admin #literate rp #original rp #mature rp

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opheliagardinier · 6 years

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bird-day cake

Sorry, this is so long… We’re getting towards the end and I’m kind of like eff it here’s a 7.5k fic for one rp…? That and given the fact that I had such limited access to internet the past two weeks I had all the distraction-free time in the world- mostly. I also didn’t cut anything out, which is something I never do… So it’s a start to end fic. Side note there cake that’s in the fic and it’s a real cake and it’s a M a Z i N g and here’s the link to that. If you’re outside the US and you’d like the recipe let me know because I have a doc I can send you- it even has metric units J. In case you can’t tell, I loveeeeee this cake.

This takes place a few days before her family arrives for reference- so it’s a side fic.

Thank you Bri @benjaminschreave for the rp and both Bri and Ester @wyattschreave for being so accommodating!!!

word count: 7515

It had been a chaotic few weeks since Ben’s birthday. The news of Aran’s return home had surprised me- but not as much as the fact that he’d be coming back.

A few days before the Big Day I planned a surprise for Ben. Now normally this tended to involve scarring him in some way or another but I figured he’d had enough of that as of late. He deserved something nice.

Ben had told me he would get some cake at the end of the ball- but seeing as how events had unfolded I doubted that had happened. So with a favourite recipe and a little help I set out to rectify that. No one was going to go without chocolate birthday cake on my watch.

Eventually, they slapped a sling on my arm, I was released from the hospital and sent back to my room with very specific instructions to take things easy. I could easily sleep twelve hours sure- even without the meds they were still cramming down my throat but the constant rest was agony. And the only thing worse than the rest was when I had to take my little jaunts down the hall.

Over time got easier and easier until the hall was easy peasy and I was able to set my sights higher. At some point, the end of the hall gave way to out of the hospital wing, which gave way to the garden and so on and so forth. It was a lot of work but I was determined to get better. And some days if I was lucky Viv even joined me if she had the time.

“Hey there Jam-Jam.” I beamed as I entered the library.

I had so badly wanted to skip into the library but my injuries still limited me. But I’d been told if I was diligent enough about my recovery I’d be able to do more normal things by the time my family arrived.

Ben turned towards me from the bookshelf he was stationed in front of. He seemed happy to see me, smiling at me as he stopped what he was doing.

“Lia-Bec, how ya feeling?”

With a sigh, I raised my injured arm just enough that it didn’t hurt. The sling was an absolute bitch. And not even a cute bitch at that. I would have bedazzled it if I could have but it was a difficult task when you were down an arm. And my maids were stressed out enough as it was- Astrid especially.

“Like a funky broken chicken.” I inched closer.

I thought about the Chicken Dance Elmo I’d had as a kid. At some point, the batteries began to fade and Elmo’s dance slowed, with his song becoming increasingly distorted. That was exactly how I felt.

“A very cute broken chicken.” He let out a small chuckle, then leaned forward to kiss my forehead.

My nose scrunched at the word cute but the kiss brought a small smile to my face. Every time he did something like that it sent a small tingle down my spine. It was a feeling I couldn’t get enough of.

“So what do you say we get out of here?” I asked.

“You know these outings of yours have somehow terrified me each time. I want to stay in the comfort of the library I think.”

I jokingly rolled my eyes then told him to name one time as a smirk played across my lips. Ben knew I would never do anything awful to him. There was no way he could name a single instance.

He quickly listed off the picnic I’d taken him on and that the time I’d put a whole bunch of baby birds on the roof. With a smile, I narrowed my eyes but still conceded.

“But you owe me,” I told him, leaning in closer.

“If anything you owe me.” Ben scoffed, which cause me to laugh.

“Now that’s where you’re wrong,” I told him with a wink, before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. ”You lied to me, Jammy.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

“On your birthday.”

Massacre aside I knew that despite his promise he likely would have been too caught up trying to make sure everyone else was taken care of.

“I'm positive I didn't lie to you then.” He gave me a sceptical look.

“You told me you’d get a piece of birthday cake and I know you didn’t.” I nodded. “And a birthday without cake just won’t do.”

“That wasn't a lie. “ Ben argued. “I thought I would, but... well you know. Why does my birthday cake matter anyway?”

Sometimes it was like Ben felt he didn’t deserve normal things. He’d had a big birthday party and had been so busy he didn’t even get to have some of his own cake. That was both a huge problem and a tragedy.

“Your birthday cake matters to me a lot.” I shook my head then held out my right hand. “Come on.”

“Alright...” He let out a small confused laugh as he took my hand.

I started leading him towards the doors of the library. I didn’t want to rush him but I was a bit concerned that if we weren’t quick someone might happen upon the cake on the kitchen island.

“I might even tell you where we’re going if you ask nicely- you know… since I scare you so much.” I teased.

“Keyword is might. Who knows if I can trust you.” His eyebrows wiggled while a smile tugged at his lips.

“Now Jammy have I ever lied to you?” I asked, pretending to be offended by his implication.

“At this point, I'd say we've gotten to know each other pretty well.” Ben chuckled.

We continued on down the hall, taking one of the couple turns that led to the kitchens. Ben looked around as if he was trying to see where we were headed.

I felt the urge to rub my arm but realised I couldn’t because we were holding hands. Not that the sling helped matters. So instead I just frowned a little.

“Mostly…”

“I'll say the same that whatever you want to know you can ask.”

I paused for a moment to think, then nervously looked up at him. Phrasing wasn’t always my forte- especially when it came to delicate subjects.

“It's not so much a question as it is an observation... Sometimes I say things and you seem haunted but you never want to risk burdening anyone else.”

His lips pressed together as his ears went red. A pang of guilt hit me.

I shouldn’t have said anything.

“That's pretty spot on.” He muttered.

“Yes well… I didn’t know how else to put it. It’s kind of like you just shut down and I never know what to do.” I sighed, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Well, it's... it's already hard enough for me, why would I put that on someone else?” Ben winced.

I gave Ben a sympathetic looks as I told him he might feel better if he shared and that maybe other people wanted to help- it was what partners did. Then I closed my mouth.

The worst thing about giving advice is when you have revelations about things you’ve done and times you should have followed it yourself. There were so many warning signs that I was just now beginning to recognise. I had never thought I was dumb but Jesus I had sure been an idiot in the past.

“I don't know.” Ben sighed, running his free hand through the top of his hair. “It just feels like I'm making more problems for someone else.”

If they can’t accept you and your problems then maybe they aren’t worth it. What I would have given for someone to have told me that sooner.

“But who does that help?” I asked. It doesn’t help you at all or your relationships so in the end it becomes problematic for other people and might even hurt them.”

I took a nervous breath as I waited for his response.

“I... yeah. Fair point.” He looked away from me.

I nodded as I considered what I’d said, a bit confused that I was able to say something like that considering my past failure when it came to relationships.

Relationship.

“I’m sorry.” I murmured.

“For what?” He asked, blinking as he looked back at me. “You were just being honest.”

My head shook as I told him I didn’t like upsetting him. But god I’m good at it. I looked up at Ben as he stopped walking for a moment and squeezed my hand.

“I'm not upset. Something I needed to hear is all, so I'll probably thank you in the long run.” He gave me a small smile.

“I guess.” I sighed. My eyes closed for a moment then I looked back up at him. “When all this is over can we still be friends...?”

“You-what?” He reared back in surprise.

“Prepare for the worst in case the best doesn’t happen.” I gave him a weak smile, but he had a sad look on his face.

I hadn’t done that before so I was trying to make sure that no matter the outcome I’d be okay. And it would be a real shame to not have Jam in my life if this didn’t end with us together.

“Lia... I really don't know how this is going to end yet. So can we forego that talk until we know for sure?”

“Yeah- I just-“ I sighed. “It's just different for you and sometimes that's hard for me to deal with.”

“Different meaning I'm the one making decisions?” He asked.

“Partially.” I groaned as I began walking again. “Just disregard me and my need for independence and forget I said anything about any of this- okay?”

It was something that had weighed on me for a while. Normally in a relationship, if things were going south you could tell. Or you could at least try to work things out. With this, it could end as quickly as it started.

“No- no, you said I could ask anything.” He said, trailing behind me. “What else makes it different?”

“I’ve been here before and done this.” I shook my head in frustration. “So there’s that.”

As we neared the kitchens Ben asked me if I meant being one of six girls he could end up with, giving me a small smile.

“Smartass,” I muttered, feeling the mood lighten ever so slightly.

I looked up at him with a much more serious demeanour. I explained that I’d been referring to being on the verge of getting married and being at the start of your life.

“Ah. That.” His nose scrunched up for a moment. “Intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” I asked as we stopped in front of the kitchen doors.

“Being married.” Ben clarified. “I don't mind the whole relationship part, because I want to be with that one, specific person. But marriage seems like a whole other ballgame.”

“Are you afraid you’ll get stuck?” I tilted my head to the side.

That could be a very reasonable fear he had. It could be entirely possible that out of thirty-five girls not a single one was perfect for him. I doubted it- but it was possible. From the way, he had a calming presence I imagined he’d fit well with Viv, or with his quirkiness, he’d do well with Gabby.

“In the relationship?”

“No- on a rooftop full of baby birds.” I smiled, rolling my eyes. “Yes the relationship- oh shit that was mean, I'm sorry.”

Ben let out a snort and told me he thought it had been funny.

“And not necessarily stuck. “ He added after a small pause. “I mean... don't people get more time than this? To build a relationship before getting engaged and married.”

“Well- who’s to say you have to get engaged and married the moment this all ends.” I shrugged with my one good arm. “You’ve basically got six girlfriends at the moment so when this is all over couldn’t you just have the one for a while and then get engaged and married?”

“I... don't know. That's not how it's been done in the past. I mean, look at my parents. They're constantly called the "cutest couple in Illéa" and they got engaged right away.” He explained.

I obviously wasn’t the biggest champion of keeping up with customs. Born out of wedlock, breaker of multiple laws, habitual drinker- wasn’t exactly fitting for the definition of the word “traditional”.

“And?” I argued. “You’re not your father and none of the girls here are your mother. So why should you have to try and copy their love story? Make your own.”

“But theirs is so good.” He told me after letting out a small groan, before adding with a tired laugh. “I'm not quite there though.”

“And yours could be better for all you know- and you shouldn’t be there… I’d be worried if you were.” I smiled letting go of his hand. I turned away to push open the doors, but the stopped so I could motion to his eyes. “Normally I’d cover your eyes but I can’t so…”

“I think everyone would be worried if I was already there.” He told me as he shut his eyes.

With a snort, I joked that sometimes he worried me in general. I pushed open the door then walked behind him and set my good hand on his waist.

“That's not the first time I've heard that, by the way.” Ben began walking forward.

“From me?” I asked, guiding him along.

“From everyone.” He put his hands out in front of his body. “You know I've walked this kitchen since I took my first steps, right? We're about to hit the island.”

“Shit,” I muttered, stepping around in front of him.

I pressed my back up against the edge of the island as Ben snickered. He took another step forward and put his arms around my waist. And true to his word his eyes remained shut.

“I know my way around.”

For a split second, I studied his face as I sometimes did when I thought maybe he wasn’t looking. I desperately wanted to memorise these moments because I knew someday- and soon at that- we might not have this. I wanted to remember the good things.

“But you don’t know everything.” I playfully tapped his nose. “Now before you open your eyes should tell you I’m giving you a free pass to lie to me- just this once.”

I hadn’t been able to create my masterpiece myself so I wasn’t entirely sure it’d be the same as when I did it back home.

“Lie about what exactly?”

“Open.” I smiled up at him.

One thing first.” He said, leaning down. Ben fumbled for a moment before kissing me.

“You’re tricky, you know that?” I giggled.

I waited until he started opening his eyes to step out of the way. He began to grin when his eyes spotted the cake. Ben called me an angel- which I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at- then he gave me another quick kiss before letting go of me so he could inspect the cake.

It was a flourless chocolate torte with a chocolate ganache that coated the outside. There was also a raspberry reduction to go over the top because the tart taste was perfect with the richness of the cake. Normally I would have also added just a little dollop of mascarpone on top of each slice but unfortunately, the kitchen didn’t have any.

“And to think you were scared.” I chuckled. “Though don’t say that until you’ve tried it. My maid, Astrid, made it and I gave the orders- which she didn’t appreciate but I got shot so she had to.”

Astrid hadn’t really seemed to believe me when I told her I needed her help baking a cake. It was even harder to convince her once I told her what type of cake it was. But the injury card was a doozy and she felt guilted into saying yes.

Ben let out a short laugh then spared me a glance.

“It's true either way.” He said, turning to presumably search for flatware.

“One step ahead of you.”

I pointed over to another counter where I’d set everything out before I’d gone to get him. There were a couple plates, forks, and a wine glass ready for us. Ben brought over the plates and cutlery first then went back for the wine glass.

“Only one?” He questioned, raising a brow and the glass in unison.

“I can’t drink.” I nodded solemnly then pointed to the fridge. “There’s a bottle of white wine in there and a raspberry reduction for the cake.”

I’d attempted to sneak into the wine cellar again- which hadn’t exactly worked out. Given the recent increase in security, I’d unsurprisingly been caught. After putting on quite the show and going into great detail about how the tart flavour of a white wine would perfectly compliment the cake the guard finally had escorted me into the wine cellar. I’d had to pick the perfect bottle while being watched like a hawk.

“Mm. Well if you won't drink then I really don't have to.” Ben went to the fridge and pulled out a bowl with the raspberry sauce.

“Oh no. Mr, you need to drink for me.” I shook my head with a smile. “Let me live through you.”

I was counting down the days until I was completely medication free. I’d even had to forgo putting in the rum in the cake- which had hurt me immensely.

The pairing is perfect so I’m especially not letting you out of this one.

I thought it was probably best I didn’t bring up my run-in with security.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” I gave him a quick not then chuckled under my breath. “God I’d make the worst pregnant person.”

“I think you'd somehow manage for the sake of your children.” He told me with a laugh, bringing over the wine bottle.

“I think that’s what mothers are supposed to do so I’ll just have to- though I could be mean and either tell my partner they couldn’t have any alcohol, raw fish, and soft cheeses- or I could make them eat a ton of it for me.” My fingertips tapped against the island.

“Whoever it is would be happy to do both.” He stated, filling the wine glass halfway. I struggled for a moment to lift myself up onto the island. Ben reached out to help me but by that point, I’d already managed.

“Or there’s always the third option,” I said as I pulled the plates closed to me.

“Which is?”

“Doing it alone.” I shrugged, eyeing the cake.

“Having a kid by yourself?” He asked as he took the knife and began cutting into the cake, which I nervously watched.

“You might want to make them small- it’s kind of rich and I don’t think you’ll be able to finish all that.” I motioned to the overly ambitious slice he was working on, then nodded. “But yeah.”

In that instance, of course, I’d have to get married first and somehow ruin the marriage just in time to have a baby on my own. I didn’t exactly want to do things the way my mom had had to. Though knowing me I wouldn’t be surprised.

His lips pressed together in a way that puzzled me. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was disappointed by my idea or if he was equally as confused as I was.

“We'll just share this one then.” Ben handed me a fork then picked up the bowl of raspberry sauce. “You don't see yourself... I don't know, having a partner with kids? Or you don't mind either way?”

“No- just life doesn’t always work out how you want it to and sometimes you have to entertain other ideas.”

“What's that like?” There was a hint of teasing as he poured the raspberry reduction over the slice of torte.

“Honestly not fun.” I tapped my fork against his. “You first- wait I forgot the candle.”

Something told me my dearest Jam had never had the absolute pleasure of peeing on a stick then waiting a few eternal minutes. But that also meant he’d never known how stunningly beautiful a single line was. It really made you understand why all those women in commercials are twirling in fields.

Thank god I forgot the candle. I was not in the mood for a follow-up question to the little comment I’d made- especially since I was pretty sure he didn’t know what I’d meant.

“Are you going to sing too?” He flashed me a grin.

“Can I hum it?” I asked. “Or is singing what the birthday boy wants?”

“Singing is definitely what the birthday /man/ wants.” He corrected me, then picked the candle up from the counter and plopped it into the slice.

I jokingly rolled my eyes. Technically he was a man but that boyish charm and grin didn’t help his case. To me, he’d be a boy until he was eighty.

“Oh fine.” I smiled and shook my head. “Light it up birthday man.”

He lit the candle then lifted the plate up between us. Ben gave me an expectant look as he leaned into the island with his hip.

You’re lucky I like you.

I groaned then took a deep breath. I did my best rendition of Happy Birthday- interjecting after the first two lines to jokingly tell him I hate him.

“Happy birthday dearest Jammy, happy birthday to you.” I finished my song.

He was laughing by the time I had finished. Leaning in closer he blew out the flame.

“You have a nice voice, you know,” Ben told me, looking back up at me.

“I mean it's not too bad within the tone-deaf whale community- and with a little work maybe I can be considered good to tone-deaf walruses as well.” I winked at him. “I hope that wish was a good one”

“A very good one. Like your voice.” He grinned.

Ben picked up a fork then stabbed a piece onto the tongs before holding it up to me. Semi horrified I asked if he was trying to feed me. My gaze shifted between the fork and him.

“It's because you're incapacitated. And I've never done it before. Giving you first honours.”

Questionable word choice, Jam Jam. I didn’t want to let him but I remember the deal I’d made with him. He would do less if I let him do more.

“As you wish.” I sighed, then opened my mouth in a way that made me feel like a baby bird.

“Interesting.” He gave me a sweet smile as he spooned- forked…? the piece of cake into my mouth.

I brought my hand up to cover my mouth as I chewed. When I was finished I asked what he thought was interesting. Before taking a bite he told me he’d meant feeding another person.

“Yeah- normally that's reserved for infants...” I agreed as I watched him just about melt as he took a bite, which brought a smile to my face.

“I've only fed a baby once. At least you didn't spit up on me.”

“Have you?” I asked as he ate some more.

I took my fork then cut off a piece of cake and held it up. With a grin, I told him it was my turn. Ben nodded, saying he’d been cute, then opened his mouth. As I put the cake into his mouth I made sure to get a little bit onto his nose.

“Whose baby?” I asked as Ben blinked at me then shot me a flat look.

“The son of an Italian ambassador at a ball.” He scooped up some of the chocolate with one of his fingers then smeared it across one of my cheeks.

I made a face as I felt the chocolate from the cake begin to melt against my skin. I reached down to dip my finger in the raspberry sauce. With a smirk, I reached up and dabbed it onto his lips.

“Lucky duck, I’ve never met a baby.”

“You’ve never met a baby?”

“No.” I shook my head.

He gave me a look of surprise then paused. Ben leaned in with his own smirk to kiss me. I giggled against his lips.

Not a human baby at least. I’d met plenty of animal babies- raised them even. I was twenty-two and somehow I’d never gotten around to meeting an actual baby…

“Tasty.” He commented as he pulled back then went to take more cake.

“I hope you meant the cake.” I chuckled, taking my own piece.

“/Obviously/.” He gave me a sideways glance with a laugh.

“So…” I swung my legs out from the island. “Did you wish for something with a shorter delivery time?”

“Same wish. “ He said. “Hopefully shorter delivery time as of now.”

“You must really want that wish to come true.” I smiled- ignoring the fact that I was dying inside to know what it was.

He told me he really really wanted it to come true and I told him I hoped it did. Ben then gestured to the cake and thanked me. And when I told him any time I really meant it. I liked these moments of “any time” with him.

“Did you ever get yours?” He tilted his head. “A chance?”

I’d forgotten that I’d told him about that. Then again it had been the night of his birthday… so wishes were the last thing on my mind.

I continued trying to block most of that out. At some points, it was harder than others and sleep was still the only place free from the memories. Sometimes high pitched laughter or the sound of things falling was enough to send me into a full blown panic. I just tried to make sure I didn’t put myself in situations that might be hard- and if I did I had an exit plan well thought out. Though usually I could lie and say I was tired, which was enough since I was recovering from my injuries.

“I think so .” I nodded, shaking off the thought. “Though I got a bit of help from a nice prince.”

“Which one?” Ben asked with the corners of his mouth lifting. “You know several.”

I let out a dramatic sigh. He’d been right when he said he’d learned not to trust me. Messing with him was something I just loved to do.

“Gosh you know I didn’t want to tell you this way.” I touched my fingertip against the melted cake that was still on my cheek then tapped it onto his nose. “It’s Wyatt… I’m in love with him.”

His nose scrunched up as he asked if his brother felt the same way.

“I sure hope so- especially considering I'm willing to commit treason for him,” I smirked.

“What kind of treason?” Ben’s eyes narrowed.

He took a step closer then leaned in to kiss my cheek. The cake that had been on the tip of his nose smeared against my skin, causing me to groan.

“Wouldn't falling in love with him be treason enough?” I asked, looking up at him with raised brows.

“Considering I like you far too much, I'd say yes, I suppose.” He smiled a bit as he put both his arms around me. “Can I convince you otherwise?”

I reached out and put my right hand on his waist. Over the fabric of his shirt I could still feel how soft and warm his skin was.

“Well, that's a shame because I've been told I'm very stubborn and I don't think anything could convince me,” I told him.

“Are you sure? Really really sure?”

“Absolutely positive.” I sighed.

Without saying anything else been leaned in and kissed me deeply, lingering for a moment.

“Still sure?” He asked, pulling back just a hair.

“Less sure.” I giggled.

Liar. If anyone can change your mind it’s him.

“I'll try again.” He said with a small smile.

One hand went up to the side of my face while his other arm stayed wrapped around me. I made a surprised noise as he leaned in and kissed me again, though it was deeper and longer than before. I moved closer to him, holding his waist more firmly.

Before Ben, I wasn’t sure I’d ever enjoyed kissing as much. Sure kissing and beyond had been amazing with Alex- but as time went on I began to wonder if things had just been more physical. I’d loved him sure… but kissing Ben was different and felt better. Right.

As we continued kissing Ben ran one of his hands went through my hair. I back on the island a bit, placing the hand that had been holding his waist back onto the counter. To my surprise, my palm made contact with the unfinished cake instead.

At first, I wasn’t sure what to do but it became apparent Ben hadn’t noticed as he deepened the kiss. He again pulled me neared while I leaned in more. My hand went back up to his waist while I grabbed the fabric of his shirt.

One of Ben’s hands went behind my neck pulling me even closer. My grip on his shirt loosened and I reached up to put my hand on his cheek. A few moments later he pulled back in surprise, with the colour of his face flushed from kissing.

“Uh, what-“ He looked between my hand and the cake then let out a laugh. “What'd you do?”

I held back a laugh as I pulled my hand back and wiggled my fingers. My nose scrunched up while I explained that I’d touched the cake. With a smile, I reached up and smeared his other cheek with more chocolate.

“There- now it's even,” I said as he let out a snort.

“Thanks, just what I wanted.” Ben paused then looked down at his shirt with his eyebrows raising at the sight. “Nice, Lia.”

The was a lovely crinkly chocolate stain on his shirt roughly in the shape and size of a small fist. I had to admit it really completed his outfit.

“Well... you said purple wasn't your colour.” I gave him an innocent smile. “And the brown matches your eyes.”

I stuck a finger in my mouth and licked off some of the cake, while Ben reached for some napkins. He quickly wiped the chocolate off his face.

“You just love being coy, don't you?” An amused smile played across his lips.

I took the napkin he was holding and wiped the rest of the cake from my fingers. I doubted Astrid would appreciate chocolate stains on my clothes so I wanted to minimise the risk. However, it made me feel a bit bad about getting cake all over Ben’s shirt.

“I love being a lot of things.” I chuckled.

“But a bird especially, of course.”

I scooted closer to the edge of the island and smirked at him. As I made some chicken noises I pretended to flap my arm in the sling. With a small laugh, Ben reached out and put my arm down.

“Careful there, you're still injured.” He reminded me, as my nose scrunched up.

It was mostly a sore feeling in my shoulder by that point but I still had to be cautious. Despite the pain being less apparent I was still making sure to take my painkillers like clockwork. I had only a few days left of medication but I’d for sure be taking those until they were gone.

“I can't wait until it's healed,” I told him as I swung my legs a bit. “Help me down?”

“You? Asking for help? I should take a picture.” Outside of raising an eyebrow at me, Ben remained motionless.

I gave him a look that showed I wasn’t amused. I’m trying to compromise.

“I can always go back to just doing things myself- no picture needed,” I warned.

“No, no, I have to be good for something.” He snickered, wrapping an arm around my waist to help me down.

A jolt of pain ran up my ankles as I hit the floor but I ignored it. I’d stupidly forgotten to bend my knees. Or I was getting old.

/Practically a cougar./

“You're good for a lot of things.” I looked up at him.

“Probably. Eating for another.” Ben picked up a fork to eat some of the cake that had escaped my little accident.

“Not probably.” I shook my head, glancing at the cake, before adding with some certainty. “Definitely.”

“So vague.” He gave me a sideways glance then ate some more.

“I can be less vague if you want.” I retrieved my own fork from the counter to get another bite.

“Please.” He gestured to me, giving me an amused look as he leaned against the island.

“You're good at making people laugh, you wear cake wonderfully, and you're the most patient person I've ever met.”

Before meeting Ben I thought my mom was the most patient person, but Ben definitely took the cake- literally.

“Hm. Patient?” He asked, seemingly surprised by my comment. “Really?”

“Exceedingly.” I nodded.

“Give me one example.” Ben let out a short laugh.

There were countless times he’d put up with me. I made ill-timed jokes, wasn’t always the most understanding person, could not get along with his brother for the life of me…

“The way you put up with me for starters.” My eyebrows furrowed.

“That doesn’t require much patience believe it or not.”

Ben’s focus shifted to the cake as he reached for my hand and pulled me to his side. A heavy feeling formed in my chest as I felt the heat of his body and smelled his cologne. I leaned in closer.

Play it cool.

“Oh, it certainly does.” I nodded in argument. “There's a good reason Wyatt and I struggle.”

“Okay, that doesn’t surprise me.” He chuckled. “You two always seem at odds with one another.”

“We're working on it... I promise.” I groaned. “He even came and visited me in the hospital.”

Ben looked at me more intently after that revelation, with his head tilting curiously.

“How’d that go?”

“Well, he didn't smother me with my hospital pillow so it definitely could have gone worse.” I chuckled.

“Dramatic.” Ben rolled his eyes.

“Just the way you like me.” I teased, smiling up at him.

“The way I like you is dramatic?”

“Gosh, I hope so...” I mused. “It seems to be my default setting according to your brother.”

I’m sure Wyatt had all sorts of other kind words for me as well- because I certainly would have. Bitchy, horrible, self-centred…

“He’s not wrong.” He laughed before wiggling his eyebrows and adding. “What, are you so overcome with your deep and ravishing feelings for me?”

Ravishing? That’s quite the romance novel vocabulary, isn’t it?

“Yes, my dearest Jammy- I can't contain it any longer. I need you so badly.” I swooned dramatically.

Ben laughed, then dipped me a little.

“Don’t contain it. At all.”

He gave me a small peck and I sighed.

“Oh, Jam I won't.”

Using my good hand I pulled him down to me and kissed him passionately. Ben laughed along with me as I drew back. Keeping his arm around me he pulled me back to my feet.

“You’re sweet.”

“Mmmmm I disagree but thanks.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“You don’t have to agree. I just know it.” Ben smiled then let go of me to start the cleanup.

“Just like I know how patient and kind you are.”

I went to pick up the cake so I could put it back in the fridge. By tomorrow it would probably be gone, but if I left it out much longer it would melt. If people were going to sneak pieces they would at least be properly chilled.

“Ah, flattery. Simple joys of life.” Ben put the dishes in the sink to begin washing up.

“Does it count as flattery if it's true?” I went back for the bowl of raspberry sauce and placed it next to the cake in the fridge.

“I’d say so.” He told me. “You’re obviously sweet and tenacious which is true, but you can take that as flattery.”

My nose scrunched up. Flattery or truth I wasn’t a fan of being showered in compliments.

“If you say so I guess...” I conceded.

“You should get used to the fact that I like to compliment you.” He laughed a bit.

Never going to happen.

“I'm more used to it now than I used to be,” I admitted. “Now the day Wyatt starts complimenting me is the day I'll really flip out.”

I leaned against the counter as I watched him clean. I’d have helped, but I was a bit useless with my arm bundled in a sling. No wonder Wyatt had really milked it when he’d fallen out of the tree. Life was so much easier when you didn’t have to do anything like dishes.

“He does at the right moments.” Ben snickered. “Unexpected but weirdly nice.”

“Not to me, he doesn't... The two of us are far too different I think.” I told him.

“Give it some time. I think you'll eventually get along.” He assured me.

“We're getting along as best we can- just sometimes our stubbornness clashes.”

“Only sometimes?” Ben spared me a glance, with a small smile.

“Always?” I sighed.

I was trying to be optimistic. Besides we’d had had our moments early on where we’d gotten along. I wasn’t sure if Ben realised just how much I wanted things to work out with Wyatt. There was a bit of potential in my opinion and I thought maybe with some more work we could actually make decent friends.

“Bingo.” Ben splashed me with a bit of water, which I responded to by reaching down into the sink and splashing him back.

“Not true actually,” I argued. “We worked really well together on the pigeon fiasco.”

“Until he, you know, fell out of a tree.”

Ben used his sleeve to wipe some water off his face. /It’s a miracle it’s not all covered in cake./

“That's why I called it a /fiasco/.” I raised my eyebrows.

I’d thought it was hilarious after, but the two of them had really scared me. Poor Ben had slammed into the tree and hit his head, while Wyatt had somehow managed to fall out of a tree. Though for someone who claimed to be experienced I still wasn’t sure how that’d happened.

“There was only one good thing that came out of that day.”

“And what was that?” I asked.

If you say it was slamming into a tree I’m going to splash you again.

“The burritos we made.” He grinned.

There was definitely more to it than just burritos- no matter how good they were. All in all, it had been my best birthday to date.

“You also gave me my favourite flowers.” I smiled softly.

“Second good thing.” Ben looked at me with an even softer, sweeter smile.

He was wrong. There’d been something better than pigeons, or burritos, or flowers.

“And you kissed me just like this,” I said.

I leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek, which caused his ears to turn a little red.

“I think that was the first time if I'm not mistaken.” He chuckled.

“It was.” I nodded.

I liked that day a lot. It was one of my favourites even. I hadn’t been in the palace that long and Ben didn’t know me well- and even after he got hurt he still did his best to make sure I had a good time.

A good sport.

Ben paused for a moment, going quiet for a little bit.

“Are you happy here?” He mused aloud.

I wasn’t exactly sure where that’d come from. Then again I wasn’t always the best with feelings- at least not when it came to sharing them. If I was unhappy you’d definitely know because I tended to get frustrated easily. But maybe Ben thought my happy moments weren’t genuine.

“Oh um.” I stammered in surprise, then took a second before continuing. “I think so... There's a lot I miss for sure but I like being here and spending time with you- and Viv.”

“Sorry, I know it’s random, I just-.” He shook his head as he put down the dish he was holding and faced me. “I wanted to make sure is all.”

It was funny to me that the master of hiding feelings would broach the subject with me. More was going on with Ben and something told me things weren’t exactly as peachy as he let on. But he wasn’t ready to share so I was just going to have to let go.

“Don't get me wrong there are moments where I'm not having the time of my life.” I motioned to my arm, which caused him to laugh a bit. “And others when I don't feel like I'm doing enough with my free time.”

That was one of the downsides of the Selection. I had all this time on my hands but I was living it up in the palace. There’d been “what if” moments I’d had, where I’d considered what I’d do supposing this worked out between us. But I had nothing tangible yet. The change I wanted the most wasn’t likely to happen any time soon, no matter how much we desperately needed it. I hadn’t made my peace with that fact yet, but I’d accepted it. And all I knew is that I wanted to actually do something to make a difference.

“But for the most part I really am- I promise.” I nodded.

“Alright. Good.” He smiled.

“Don't worry about me too much.” I winked at him. “I'm doing just fine.”

I appreciated his concern, but sometimes I worried that he was a bit too anxious. I could take care of myself. Maybe I could even take care of him if he’d let me.

“Worrying is all I do.” Ben rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.

Oh trust me, I know.

“Well, maybe it's time to find a new hobby,” I suggested, shaking my head at him.

“I have plenty other hobbies.” He told me as he went to dry his hands off, having finished the dishes.

“I know you do,” I smirked, pointing to the chocolate stain on his shirt.

“Hey, you’re only fuelling my hobbies,” Ben smirked back.

“I'm glad to hear it,” I said.

Well if making out in chocolate cake is a new hobby then sign me up.

I moved away from the counter. There was something I was forgetting, I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

“Thank you, by the way. Sweetness continues.”

“Like I said, any time.” I smiled up at him.

Ben leaned down to kiss me softly. When he pulled back he told me he probably needed to go since work was busy.

“Of course.” I nodded. “I should probably get back to my room before Astrid sends a search party since I'm supposed to be taking it easy.”

“Lia, those instructions are there for a reason.” He shot me a flat look.

“If they're there to drive me insane they're certainly working.”

I was terrible at just laying around all day. I needed to be up doing something, anything. It didn’t matter how much I liked reading and all that. I’d finished Pride and Prejudice twice in the past few weeks and that was enough for the foreseeable- no matter how amazing Mr Darcy was.

“For your health.” Ben sighed, as his eyes went to the ceiling. “You and your independence.”

“My health means nothing if I don't have my sanity,” I argued.

“Or your lung.” He raised his eyebrows at me.

I had to admit he had me there. I liked breathing properly and was looking forward to not being winded by something as simple as a flight of stairs.

“Boo you and your logic.” I scrunched up my nose at him.

“My greatest weapon.” He grinned, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “Get back to bed so I can go to my meeting.”

There was something a bit attractive about having him tell me what to do, but in a toned down way.

Aha! I wanted to get some cake for Astrid.

“Fine.” I sighed. “Let me just grab a piece of cake for Astrid and I promise I'll go.”

“Thank you.” He let go of my hand and began walking backwards. “See you soon.”

Not if I see you first.

“Late gator.” I flashed him one last smile then went back to the fridge.

#ophelia gardinier #ophelia #fee #benjamin schreave #ben #jam #challenge seven

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alltheworldsrpg-blog · 7 years

Photo

WELCOME TO ROSWELL, KALAIS VITERI!!

ADMIN CAMERON: I’m always here for space hipsters, especially when they take the form of Kalais. They’ve got this perfect ‘hidden in plain sight’ sense about them, this watching sort of personality. Best be adding some cacti to their collection of plants.

You’ve been accepted as THE HEXADECIMAL with the faceclaim of STELLA MAEVE. Please follow all rules and regulations as laid out by the Roswell Town Council, especially concerning any non pre-approved biologic. All UFO’s outside of city limits must be stickered or will be towed. Enjoy your stay in the first city of extraterrestrials.

NAME/ALIAS + PRONOUNS:

Krys! + She/Her

AGE:

Twenty Eight

TIMEZONE + ACTIVITY:

CST , 8/10 - I work about 40 hours a week but I am at a computer all day so answers are still possible :3

TRIGGERS

Removed for privacy

ANYTHING ELSE?:

Hey I think we have met before! Okay no we totally have but I mean we all know there will be a lot of playlists and aesthetics coming from me so there is that. Also I freakin dig this rp. The colors are glorious and I have been stalking it for awhile so I am ready!!

IN CHARACTER.

SKELETON TITLE:

The Hexadecimal

FULL NAME:

Kalais [k AE - l ai ] Viteri [Viteri Kalais if they were back home]

Means ‘Changing Colors’’

GENDER + PRONOUNS:

Genderfluid + they/them/she/her [since arriving on earth they have gotten used to the different pronouns. in their own mind they tend to stay very neutral but don’t mind having others refer to them as she/her]

SEXUAL + ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:

Pansexual + Panromantic

DATE OF BIRTH + AGE:

Earth month: January 26th, 2030 + 30

OCCUPATION:

The Garden center of the Roswell Home Depot: It really is a basic job for them. Something easy that reminds them of their parents. Not to mention it makes it incredibly easy to get a hold of plants on sale. With the discount they can keep their walls stocked to the brim at their home. It also just lets them be in the daily hum of people. Allows them a semi familiar space to listen to the things going around them. A person would be surprised the sort of things a customer would tell the one helping them. Small family details to insane secrets they don’t tell their families. Apparently their quiet nature allows the customers to feel even more comfortable around them.

DIY blogger + Instagram influencer [or future equivalent]: This one was a bit of a surprise. It isn’t like they have the outward personality to get the interest of the world but apparently their ability to put things together and take a picture at the perfect angle was enough. Endorsements and shout outs were easy when all they had to do was make it happen in the private of their own space. Public appearances don’t happen but their presence on the internet can’t be denied. It took a little time to build their own site, save up for a decent camera and set everything up so anything too personal was kept out of view. Apparently earth people went wild for well kept plants and scenic views. The neon hue from the wall of signs in the little kitchen offered the perfect “aesthetic” to it all. Look, they don��t pretend to understand how it happened right away but they certainly know how to make it work.

In many ways being connected to the world that encompasses the online community has kept them aware of things that are going on. From the council forming to what life was like before ‘aliens’ came down. Just another way they can keep their ear to the ground so to speak.

FACECLAIM:

Stella Maeve

BIOGRAPHY:

It starts at the earliest memory. The soft song sung by their mother. So gentle in nature that it soothes the little one quickly. A scent coming through a window. A flower in bloom that would forever be associated with the one that held them. Over all of the years, they would look to their first memory burned into their mind with a gentle smile. A muted moment that would always find space in them. It set the tone for the early years of their life. Parents with soft words and encouraging smiles that said more than anything voices could. In the chaos the world became around them it would be a center to focus on.

In the year 2030 Viteri Kalais was born. A small little thing that came into the world. So silent it left their parents quaking that perhaps they wouldn’t get to keep the little one. There was nothing to fear. Their cries were muted when they finally opened their lips. Soft little things that were more like a mew than a scream. That would be their way. Soft sounds with a near purr like quality when it came to happiness. Never boisterous or loud. An easy little thing but it was their wide eyes watching that they noticed most. Dark eyes that seemed to take every tiny detail in. Of course it was the nature of their people to pay attention to things around them but Kalais’ hushed nature seemed to add to that fact. A little one made of details.

As they aged, Kalais stayed quiet. Whenever they did speak they tended to be low soft tones. More often than not an observation that could be nearly cruel in its honesty. Their parents found it refreshing. Someone that wasn’t afraid to speak their mind but in the world they lived in it was dangerous. Their family standing wasn’t the highest. Neither from a class of true note. The dirt under their nails spoke volumes. But it seemed they need not worry for their little one. Kalais wouldn’t speak to those their age and if they did there were little words and more facial movement. There was obvious dirt under their nails too. Still, in the quiet of the Viteri home, they fostered that nature. Parental words softening to suit their little one’s nature. It had taken years to have a child and they cherished every little quirk.

The quiet home was a sanctuary for the things happening around them. The people were changing. The way their world worked was changing and in their opinion it was none for the better. Maybe it was Kalais that helped them see it. Their low tones of how it was changing the other little ones around them. Maybe it was the things they saw happening to people they knew. It was no longer the world they had grew up in when they were young. Instead the government began to lead with an iron fist. The sort of fist the strangled people like them. Hand so tight around the lower stations throats they could barely breathe. Perhaps it was that that got them interested in politics.

Kalais noticed the change. They watched while their parents got involved in silent movements. A little over twelve, they saw them move about in the quiet nights. Whispered words of wanting a better future. Wanting to make the world safe again. Safe for them. In the moment, the memory would slip away in the night. Waking them to a world where their parents looked at them like they were the shimmering stars that hung around their planet. It would take weeks for the memory to settle, for it to explain certain behaviors they had noted since the change. Somewhere in Kalais’ mind they agreed with the change. The government above them, people around them, they were all dangerous in more ways than one. Maybe change was good. Maybe their parents were right.

Movements are only natural when things around people change for the worst. A part of them understood that but it would take days for their mind to add that there are consequences to those movements. People don’t always come back from their night time jaunts. They don’t always make it home for breakfast or to kiss someone on the forehead when they wake. There isn’t a soul to ease a phantom ache when the person can’t remember for a split second that the people they are waiting for will never be home again. Kalais was fifteen when there was that hole in their chest. Something like jagged edges gaping in such a way they can’t fix it. Another memory that would stick forever in their mind. The morning they would wake expecting to see them but seeing no one but themselves in a small home that wasn’t home. It was surprising what happened to someone that was connected to political activists.

When Kalais was twenty and looked back on it, they realized they were lucky. Death could have been the answer. Instead they continued to live their quiet life. Difference was that no one was there to listen to soft words when they were finally spoken after days. No, Kalais walked among people they knew more about than they perhaps knew about themselves. The little ways they moved to protect their belongings. Silent shifts in body language others of their kind would notice but were so caught up in their own thoughts at times they didn’t pay attention to. So, they made themselves small. It had become the normal for them. The first few years without their parents had been difficult. There had been others that disappeared and it seemed like the whole planet knew. Kalais hated whispered stares. They loathed silent curiosity. Kalais hated how they saw them. Which of course meant they would rather not be seen.

Kalais’ quiet nature made it easy to move into the background of all things. Slowly people forget one or two details about them. They would never forget that people never made it home to their families but when they forgot their face, it made them breathe a little easier. It made their silence more natural rather than forced. The things they saw. The things they knew were always on the tip of their tongue but there was danger in truth. There was pain in truth. Kalais knew that pain. They never wanted more memories of it lingering in their mind for when they got older. For years it was the same but the whispers of change where among them once more, but different. Technology of change. Change that offered opportunities. New planets to find that weren’t right next door. More options. More resources. There were a million reasons their government was interested but there was only one reason for them.

Home.

The world they lived in was no longer that. Just echoes of what they wanted splatter with the paint of lies Kalais had to hear. It was the sort of change they could get behind. A sort of change that wouldn’t mean they wouldn’t make it home one night. There was no one to go home to but it never changed the ringing silence in their ears. It was the one time in their life when they made sure to be in the right places at the right time. They weren’t of the higher houses or names. Kalais had to be tricky with how they got to the new world that was being offered. Time was all they needed. They didn’t have to be to persuasive or underhanded. Their worth was easy to gauge, their skills at blending in were natural. So natural even their own people let them through without so much as a second glance.

Maybe they should have been worried about how easy it had been. There was a part of them that wondered what it was like to be seen. Still they soothed their murmured worries and found a new planet. The arid wind of Roswell left their skin feeling warm and their eyes wide. Kalais could taste their new type of freedom on their tongue. Taking the family name and shoving it behind their given name was a breath of fresh air. Their people weren’t the first extraterrestrials to land on Earth and maybe they wouldn’t be the last. It took some time for their mind to acclimate to the change but once they did they knew there was a chance to finally have a home of their own once again.

Of course Kalais should have known problems didn’t go away with a change of scenery. Those issues came with people. People from various planets with various motives were wild and free among the ones of earth. They should have seen it coming. The whispers among people like them and those native to the planet. Still they listened. They watched. They noticed every little detail but if there was one thing they remembered, that vivid component etched in their mind, was how people wouldn’t come home the moment they got involved in such things as the change a government can bring. Kalais had finally found a home again. They didn’t want to lose it just as quickly.

MUSING + HEAD-CANONS.

HEAD-CANONS:

Losing Days || There are days between shifts when they had found themselves staring at the walls. The jarring colors would be a shock to most people but to them they are almost like background noise. A patch of sparkling leopard print in the bottom corner of the apartment is usually the thing that wakes them from their own mental dreams. Heat coming in from the windows they keep open nearly all year round simply washes them with warmth, but it is the twinkle of passing lights catching the plethora of items that made up the glimmering print. Kalais would see that food had been eaten, they took care of their needs in the daze that was the last few days but that never made the strange feeling welling in them any easier. No one looked for them. No one questioned their disappearance. They couldn’t tell if it was just short term memory loss or if there was something more. There are times when it scares them, how easy it is to disappear. Sure, that is their talent but there was something in being seen.

They have names || Okay, they own a few plants. By a few, the inside of their house has a string of them on various shelves. A little water delivery system, they took the time to put together. Some native to the area around them but many took a tender hand. It didn’t matter where they were from, each of them had a name. A baby book of names with a binding cracked and broken spoke volumes for how often they used it. The shelves would travel from the main room, into the hallway and further into Kalais’ bedroom. Colorful orchids resided there. Hibiscus with large blooming flowers. Earth plants had been different but over the last five years they had gotten very good at coaxing them into what they wanted. No, they weren’t a ‘plant whisperer’ like so many people said but they were similar to people in a way. Watching for the signs was just a second instinct.

You learn it young || Their knack for watching came when they were young. They were quiet. Just a natural thing for Kalais. They barely cried as a little one. Instead they just watched. It seemed only natural to keep the habit up the older they got. It became something that worked better for them than anything else. A sort of survival thing . It wasn’t like the world was the kindest the older they became. Not to mention, when they did open their mouth their words weren’t always the kindest and tended to have a little bit of a bite. When they came to earth, that didn’t change it, may have actually made it easier. The people there hadn’t seen what their home world had become, what the people had become. They saw. They saw it all. If there was one thing they were good at it was watching. A new planet wasn’t going to change that.

It’s only natural || Distrust runs deep in this one. Even making a few acquaintances on the new planet they had begun to call home, it is still a spark that guides them. Sometimes Kalais wonders if it is something so deep in their memory that they can’t shake. The new air of politics around them has done nothing to soothe that jagged tear in their soul. If anything it makes it easier to pull away. Lately they have to admit that things have been sticking with them. Not just all of the things they’ve heard before. New words that filter in and out of their mind like a record on repeat. Change was just as natural as not trusting anyone wasn’t it?

To barely like anyone || Their silence isn’t the most unnerving to the people she was raised with. No, it is the lack of facial movement. In order to have a true silence, a true hidden thought one would also have to keep their expressions to a minimum. If it is something they really need to keep to themselves, minimum turns into an absolute blank. Most wouldn’t pick up on it simply because they couldn’t see a reaction anyway. Among humans they can get away with a complete blankness. As they grew older they learned that a few movements, mostly in their eyebrows seemed to ease the people that would look for those things. Even the smallest thing like a head tilt put them at ease.

Something don’t feel right || Intimacy is something that is foreign to them. It isn’t that they haven’t tried. Matter of fact they have when they were a little younger. When the slight bit of loneliness tugged at them and just once they wanted to feel someone against them. It was strange, awkward and nothing that they wanted to do again. So of course tried tried another time. From awkward to needy. There was something about being close to another living being that made it seem like they had to open up. That they had to tell them things they wanted to hear and speak of all of the future they could have. There weren’t fucking there for that and got out of dodge real quick. Unfortunately their mind decided to burn the memory real deep. The feel of hands on theirs. Or the smell of someone else to wake up next to.

Angels of the Sea || Pets fascinate them to an extent. But it isn’t the furry variety that caught their attention. Instead it was the sort that could be put into tanks. More specifically they visited a pet store and saw fish. The fish themselves weren’t very interesting but it got them curious. What sort of sea pets could a person have. Of course the internet was helpful and quickly they found out about Moon Jellyfish. Before anyone could blink there was a tank and a whole set up with various appropriate lights for the tank. The Jellies are something they can lose themselves watching. Gently gliding through the water as if they have hidden wings. A reminder on their phone to feed them twice a day.

In Neon Hues || Like their collection of alien fashion items, they enjoy collecting neon signs. Some small, some large but they all go in the same place. A wall of their ‘efficient’ apartment, in the kitchen is covered in the things. More often than not they are kept turned off simply because of the power bill but still their fluorescents hum when they are lit. Barely any other lights in the home but an extra ones in the bathroom [outdoor rope light re purposed] and bedroom [a string of Christmas tree lights] respectively.

Do they call it kitschy || Ever since they landed on the planet, there has been a certain few collectible they enjoy going for. The old Roswell stuff. You know the ones. The stuff that has little aliens on it. The ‘believer’ shit. That is the stuff that they love. Sweaters, shorts, skirts, tank tops, hats, any and all things with that look they totally enjoy. Maybe it’s because there is a certain humor in the ‘believed 'about wearing the merch that they find silently funny but honestly, they can’t put their finger on it. They just like it.

Taste the rainbow || Like all the others from their planet or the sister planets they are naturally attracted to very bright, almost neon colors. Difference being that they tend to not wear clothing that matches that love or want. Instead just a choice or two that screams vibrancy but in their own home - it looks like the trix rabbit threw up all over the damn place. A wall of neon signs in the kitchen. A wall collage of magazine tear outs in the living room. Holographic type flooring to cover up the previous tile that had been there. Glitter leopard print in a few corners to catch the light of the moving cars.

They aren’t cartoons || there isn’t a tv in their apartment. The only thing they own that they get their entertainment from is the internet. That being said, some of Kalais’ favorite stuff to watch is old anime. There is just something about the outlandish style and garish colors that always seem fascinating to them. Some of their favorites include, Sailor Moon [Crystal], Tokyo Ghoul, No game No life. It isn’t always the stories that get them [especially for no game. The plot is atrocious]. Sometimes it is just the drawings and the color.

Not a bang but a fizzle || Their voice has never raised as loud as the music they listen to. They read something in a Magazine once that they proceeded to rip out and stick to the wall. ‘Music says the things a person can’t say out loud.’ With their more than quiet nature Kalais fills the silence in their personal space with various music they can find. Random music from earth and everywhere else. It helps that they enjoy collecting older earth items - records and record player included.

Maybe if I write it down || The forgetful nature of their people has never been their favorite. But over time they have learned how to adapt. The little pieces of technology they can get a whole of to either discreetly record conversations are easy enough. Their personal favorite is simply to use a mobile phone to jot down things. Of course it gets tricky in certain situations. That’s where turning them into a little bit of a sing song works really well. From Kalais’ understanding that is how many earth people teach their children the things they learn and it is something they have found to work.

Tins of all kinds || Stepping on Earth was an entirely new experience. Everything was something new and there was a bit of a learning curve to it. Really, it was learning what to do and what not to do. What to try and what not. All the little details that made earth life, well, just that. It became apparent rather quickly that Kalais enjoyed tea. The sort of tea they brewed themselves. Loose life and fragrant. The kind that they could dedicate a wall to in their little apartment. Over five years each tea they tried got a certain colored tin with how it made them feel. They weren’t the same in shape or size but the color mattered. The internet has told them that it is part of their ‘aesthetic’ but really that word is tossed at them so often if they didn’t have the dictionary definition they would be worried.

Quick HCs:

Has stuck with the pescatarian diet but after owning the Moon Jellies, feels a little bad for eating the fish from the area.

They like to get their nails done. Nothing too crazy long but cute little designs are fun.

Colored lip glosses are the bee’s knees. If they have a flavor, even better!

Mentally Kalais will refer to their self as a Space Bird. Sort of their own play on words for Snow bird.. You know the people that go south for the winter except they came from space… LOOK they thought it was pretty brilliant!

PLOTS + CONNECTIONS:

I’d love to see Kalais begin to enjoy the company of people. Like really enjoy it. All of their life they have kept to themselves. The sort of way that worked well for their quiet nature but that doesn’t meant they couldn’t begin to like to live among people instead of just living around them. The memories they hold to from the time with their parents could certainly help deepen a yearning for it. Like minded people are hard to come by and it could be nice. The Pulsar could be the catalyst to start them getting a taste of a different sort of life. Even the Quark could be as well.

I think another really cool thing to dig into would be them getting involved with an extraterrestrial resistance. Now, obvies the plot of the rp will move in shift but like that could be cool especially if they feel like they’re seeing moves like their old government in the details, i think for once they would be tempted to actually do something about it. While they are steadfast in not wanting to be one of the people that could just be gone with no one to look for them, they also wouldn’t want to see the new world, their new home turn into something that even resembles what their old one became. There is a bit of the tug from the Quark that could potentially get them thinking this way but it wouldn’t be an overnight process.

Okay let us talk about intimacy for a second. This quiet soul has delved into that world but came back with shaky memories and a weird taste in their mouth. I want to find something that pokes at those feelings. With them making friends at an incredible slow rate there is a chance that they could develop feelings for someone. I think it would be a little more than fun to explore the mental conflict they would have within themselves as they grappled with enjoying someone in that way. Wanting to let them into their world. Finally having someone see them in a manner that is different from how they normally want people to see them… as in not at all

One of smaller things I would like to start to see change for Kalais would be that they don’t express themselves to their full extent. More often than not even their facial features stay just as silent as they are. I think it would be good to see them get more comfortable with smaller smiles, the little things really.

Look to simplify the blabber, I want them to get friends, I want them to open up just a little bit, I want them to feel like they have a purpose other than to just listen. There is a reason they have so many details and take the time to remember them. I want them to find meaning. Because they deserve meaning when all they have done was made sure they didn’t make a blip in the worlds they have lived.

Really I will probably think of a million more the more I write Kalais but here is what I have for now.

WRITING SAMPLE:

Removed for privacy

ETC:

https://kalaismock.tumblr.com/ [here there be drabbles, playlists, inspo, answered memes, & aesthetics. also showcases the potential faces]

& lets be honest here —- Kalais is a freaking space hipster okay?

#accepted.#the hexadecimal.

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mila-regan · 7 years

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Challenge #6 - One last date

A/N: So this will be the last challenge, thank you so much @haidenschreave as always for the rp. Glad we could make it work although I was the worst at replying because I have been so busy with school. It feels like I’m doing an award speech but also thank you to @aliyatyson @tracie-beauchamp @sophiaravensfromillea and @aileen-hollingsworth for the rp’s and laughter although I haven’t included everything. This fic is exactly 5669 words long. Maybe there will be something added don’t know yet.

Mila’s decisions in this fic have nothing to do with what has happened Friday, this has been on her mind for a very long time. Do know that I’m sorry for it and me and the other girls have never meant it that way.

Okay I’ll stop rambling, enjoy!

The waiting is the very worst.

‘’Go back to your room and rest a little, Miss. We’ll have the results in half an hour.’’

I have been waiting in my room for over four hours by now.

Dana had spoiled me with tea and sweets, with another stack of books to read and with stories about her family. But I couldn’t seem to focus on any of them. I wanted my results. I wanted to know that I wasn’t ill, I was fine. A little stress and lack of sleep couldn’t knock me down, right?

After my breakdown yesterday I didn’t want to break anymore. I made the choice for myself I wouldn’t allow it. I had to be there for myself, for my girls back at the rebel camp and here. I had to be there for Haiden. Of course, for Haiden. It is such a selfish to do, bullying myself until my body decides to just give up. No, I wouldn’t.

To my surprise, Saniya didn’t give me yet another dress to wear after Dana forced me to take a bath. Laying on my bed was my old sweater and a pair of worn through jeans I brought from home. It smells like mom, like her houseplants and burnt food. Like Bankston’s forest air and long days spend in the classroom with a bunch of hyperactive children. Home, it smelled like home.

I had let out a muffled laugh when sniffing the sweater as I reminded myself what my worries were back then. Worries about money and Kian’s education. About my father always being away and my mother working way too hard. I had gone back in the months remembering all the insane things that happened. Bushes set on fire and way too much wine both drank and spilled onto the ground. Rebel attacks and a friend who threatened to kill, in order to deserve my love. I ran into a Prince, protecting my bowl of chips and got cut in the process. I made friends who made me ride on a horse. I fell in love..

Till this day, the Selection had been a terrible but amazing experience. Sure, I would’ve skip some parts of it. however, if I did that, I would never be in the same moment I was now.

A part of me wants to continue with this. Not only for mom and Kian, my two biggest supporters, but also for myself. I wanted Haiden, I loved him. Maybe the feelings weren’t mutual and that is scaring me the most..

Finally, someone knocks on my door and I let out a sigh of relief when Karlie opens it and I see that it’s Doctor Castillo. The one who helped me out. The look on her face isn’t promising, but I smile kindly at her anyway. After all she has my results and I have been waiting hours for it.

I ask my maids to leave the room so Doctor Castillo can talk with me in private. I would tell my maids all the details in the end anyway. Just like I would tell them to Haiden and Aliya. I don’t want to keep them in suspense.

‘’Lady Mila, thank you for your patience. As you may have noticed it took us a long time to figure out what is wrong.’’ She looks with a disapproving glance at my clothes but I could also just have imagined it. I act as if I didn’t notice and walk her over to the two comfy chairs next to my window.

‘’You know what is wrong with me?’’ I ask her curiously. She crosses her long legs and leans back in the chair, like this conversation will take her a long time.

‘’We analyzed the results that came out of the blood tests we took and I have to say they weren’t surprising.’’ See nothing to worry about, I am perfectly fine. ‘’Except one thing.’’

Of course. There would always be more.

‘’You have to understand that headaches can be caused by many things. Stress, allergies, lack of sleep. You could be expecting your period or perhaps it could be a disease. There could be even a nerve not properly working inside your brain.’’ She takes a pause to give her words more effect.

‘’With all your symptoms and your blood results, it seems you might have Cluster-Headache. A headache that mostly hides in one spot behind the eyes and causes several attacks. In your case, it seems to be due to stress, lack of sleep and overstrain. In combination with alcohol and the wrong medication this can lead to several migraine attacks and…’’

‘’W-wait.’’ I interrupt her and she doesn’t seem pleased with it, giving me a nasty glare in return. ‘’What do you mean with alcohol and the wrong medication. I haven’t touched a glass of wine in a month and have only been taking painkillers and sleeping pills.’’ It comes out way harsher than I meant but I guess she must understand my frustration.

‘’There were hints of alcohol found in your blood. Same with some medicines which don’t refer as painkillers and sleeping pills to me.’’ She sounds skeptic, as if I am a little child that isn’t telling the truth. ‘’Alcohol tends to widen your blood vessels, what can lead to pressure in the brain. Are you sure you didn’t drink at the ball or alone in your room?’’

‘’Ma’am I promise you I haven’t.’’ I wish my maids could be here to confirm it but I send them away. No, I could do this on my own.

‘’Dear, I’m your doctor. You can trust Me.’’ she places a cold hand on my knee and I want to slap it away. She thinks I have a drinking problem. Not anymore. I am not lying. ‘’Could there have been messed with my food or my drinks? Because I swear, I have not drunk nor taken the wrong pills. I have strictly drunk only tea and water with my meals and the medicines my maid gave me. Medicines you must have given them.’’

Doctor Castillo raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. I notice the wrinkles in her face and the exhaustion on her face. She has a long life behind for a woman who can’t be older than my mother. ‘’What if your maids have been switching them up? Lied about the tea?’’ ‘’I know what tea tastes like, and I have seen my medicines.’’

I reach with my hands to my pounding temples. This conversation is giving me another headache. How could she accuse my maids of doing something they wouldn’t ever do? My maids are so kind and selfless. They would never do that to me.

‘’Is there anything you can do to stop it?’’ I ask her to switch subjects and she shifts in her seat. ‘’No, Cluster headaches don’t have cures yet, but I could prescript some medicines to reduce some of the pain. Just make sure that your maids don’t switch them up again.’’ That stings. It takes me seconds to calm down and give her another one of my lovely smiles, although I rather would yell at her.

First, she is hours late with my results, where I could have some compassion for. But after all those remarks at my maids and the accusations, I don’t want this woman any longer in my room.

‘’I think it’s time for you to leave ma’am. I would like to be alone now.’’ I stand up stiffly and walk to the door that I hold open for her. ‘’Take good care of yourself, dear. It would be a pity if you dropped out of the contest because of a sickness. There’s only three of you left.’’ She gives me that same wicked smile again and I have trouble not slamming the door shut in her face.

This woman doesn’t like me and I have no idea why but I certainly am going to let those medicines tested before I’m taking them.

After that strange meeting, I call Aliya first. Of course, I could run to Haiden and tell him immediately about the headache, or dial mom’s number. But I have to talk with one of my best friends, the one who might be as in love as I am. Who understands what kind of chaos is going on in my head at the moment.

She picks up right away and I can’t help but ask if it is Ray or Aliya I’m talking with. The last time, when Ray picked up, we got an interesting conversation out of it. This time it is her and I spill my heart out. I tell her everything, the headaches and the situation surrounding Haiden. My fear of loving to hard and being in love in general. She talks about Ray and finally confesses she is in love. I know it right away, how she says his name.

In the end, I tell her my plan. My plan on taking Haiden out of the palace to a shelter for Eights. I want to see him how they’re doing right now. After our last conversation about Castes he still sounded unsure. But if there is one thing I want to accomplish if I get to be Queen is banishing the Castes. I would die for a change, even while achieving that ideal. Illéa deserved a better chance, a better life for the lower Castes.

The change Haiden would make for Kian wasn’t enough. More people lived similar lives. I wouldn’t find it fair if only Kian could get to live a life as a Three only because I am close to the Prince.

She agrees and I thank her, a hundred times. She’s even taking Ray with her and I can’t wait to meet him. to meet the guy who makes Aliya’s math formulas disappear in deep sighs of love. You have to be a great guy to make her go from logical to romantical. She would be here tomorrow in the afternoon. That gives me time to plan some things more until ‘’the date’’

I knock on his door and feel my heart beating faster as I hear his footsteps coming closer. In all these months, he still manages to make me feel like that. He opens the door and clearly has just woken up. His eyes are almost closed shut with exhaustion and is wearing nothing more than pj pants. ‘’Mila… hey.’’ He mumbles, taking time to recognize it’s me. I feel sorry for waking him up although it is the middle of the day.

‘’Oh, I’m sorry to wake you. I-I just wanted you to know that I got my blood results back.’’ I know how worried he was. He wipes his eyes and yawns as I try to look at his face, not his abs. ‘’No, no, it’s fine. Is, uh, everything all right?’’

I tell him the same story I told Aliya and he nods. ‘’Well I’m glad it’s not anything serious.’’ I sigh, a reaction that has become a daily habit to me. ‘’Me too. Sorry for disturbing you, I’ll let you sleep now.’’ It is a silly thing to say as he grabs my hand almost instantly. ‘’No, don’t go.’’ His voice sounds so sleepy.

‘’I’ll stay, but tell me when you need to sleep. I don’t want you to be tired because of me.’’ I mean that. He can’t have slept for more than 5 hours these past days. I don’t want him to collapse because the lack of it, due to me.

He pulls me inside his room and smiles. ‘’Since when did you get so bossy?’’ I laugh softly. ‘’Since I care about your health.’’ He closes the door and turns to me. ‘’Well, I care about yours too. You know, vodka could cure anything.’’ That statement makes me flinch a little, although he is right. A month ago, it felt like alcohol could cure the world.

‘’I agree with you, vodka can cure many things. But I pass, drinking and medicines don’t mix well.’’ My words seem to hit something sensitive inside his head. I see as he looks down.

‘’Trust me, I know.’’ Haiden says seriously. The room falls silent. I sense that there is more behind it than he wants to admit. I guess he feels the same about me.

‘’Are you free today?’’ I ask in order to change the subject. ‘’Yeah, what’s up?’’ I push out a faint smile. ‘’Nothing, just keep this afternoon free for me.’’ He looks confused and it’s adorable. If I would tell him where were going he would never go with me without hesitation. I figured with him you should just do it and take him. Not discussing whether it would be a smart thing to do or not. if I did he wouldn’t come. Simple as that.

‘’I also advise you to wear somehow old clothes. Clothes that don’t look very Prince-like. You do have those right?’’ ‘’Um, should I be scared?’’ he replies with a hint of suspicion in his voice. I try to add a little drama to it. ‘’are you scared of being blindfolded?’’

‘’Depends by who and in what situation.’’ My eyes widen and I laugh out loud. ‘’Trust me, it’s by me and it will be out of a bedroom.’’ I say when I’m done laughing. ‘’I want to show you something outside the palace walls.’’ ‘’Outside the palace?’’ there it is, the hesitation. I should’ve just keep silent.

‘’I know, I know it sounds crazy. But it would mean the world to me if you would just go along. The blindfolding is for your safety.’’ And not to see that an Ex-Selected and her boyfriend are driving us somewhere. Haiden would not agree going with that car.

After a long silence, he opens his mouth again. ‘’Okay, fine. But I’ll blame you if anything goes wrong.’’ His reply takes me completely off guard. He just agreed?

‘’I’ll take it for granted, I promise you it’s important. Not the most spectacular thing ever but very important.’’ ‘’I’ll go with you.’’ He confirms once more. ‘’thank you so much.’’ I give a quick kiss and he smiles. ‘’Okay, okay. Let me get dressed.’’ I look to the clock and realize it’s far before Ray and Aliya will actually be here. I have to keep him busy a little longer.

‘’I don’t mind you without a shirt.’’ I smirk and he laughs, pinching my arm softly. ‘’I’m sure you don’t.’’ ‘’Then leave it off.’’ I insist. ’But how could I go out like that.’’ ‘’Don’t. stay with me, here.’’ He brushes his lips over my cheek as he whispers. ‘’You needed to show me something important, remember?’’ I make a humming noise as response of his touch. ‘’that is planned for later this afternoon.’’ I whisper back. ‘’If I stay, I could never leave.’’ He mumbles and I move my face away and kiss him on the lips.

‘’Believe me, I’ll force you out of that door.’’ I promise him.

He pulls away and looks at me. ‘’I don’t know if you’re tall enough for that.’’ ‘’I am certainly not tall, but I do have a strong will.’’ I reply with a smirk. ‘’But is it strong enough?’’ ‘’You want to test it out?’’ I ask. ‘’Is that a challenge?’’ ‘’Yes.’’ ‘’Interesting.’’ He seems to think about it. ‘’But do you accept it? the challenge?’’ I question him and Haiden shrugs. ‘’sure.’’ ‘’Then stay with me.’’ I lean forward to kiss him again as I feel his hands on my waist and before I know it he throws me in a smooth motion over his shoulder.

I let out a squeal and hit his back softly with my hand. ‘’What are you doing!’’ ‘’Is your will strong enough for this?’’ he asks and I feel the blood stream to my head. ‘’It still is! But your arms are stronger than mine.’’ That is true, in comparison with his, mine are twigs. He sets me down on his bed and laughs. I laugh with him. I like him this way. When he is flirty and playful as if there isn’t a whole country resting on his shoulders. I like him happy.

‘’You like to cheat at challenges, don’t you? First the football game and now this.’’ I shake my head with a big smile. ‘’Remember, you got to set the rules.’’ He points out. ‘’You would break them anyway.’’ ‘’Maybe. Depends on the rules.’’ I roll my eyes.

‘’I guess, but no surprising throwing me over your shoulder again. Not without warning me.’’ that makes him laugh once again as he kisses my cheek.

‘’I like it when you’re happy.’’ I blurt out and he smiles. ‘’Yeah me too.’’ There is it again, that weight. dripping from his words. ‘’You make me happy, you know.’’ I confess and rest my head on his shoulder. ‘’I’m glad. You make me happy too.’’ It feels almost close to an I love you, but at the same time it just feels like an exchange of words. I say that you make me happy and you return it because I want to hear it. that’s how it works doesn’t ’t it?

‘’Honestly, that is all I can hope for. I want to be there for you. Support you in every way.’’ ‘’I appreciate that, it’s hard for me to accept though.’’ He replies. ‘’It’s hard to accept I want to be there for you? Why?’’ ‘’I just feel… never mind it’s stupid.’’ I grab his hand and frown. ‘’Nothing what you say is stupid, your feelings aren’t stupid. Not to me.’’ he nods.

‘’I just feel like… all of you see a fake version of me.’’

‘’You mean, I am not seeing the real you right now?’’ he shrugs. ‘’I don’t know. Maybe not exactly but it’s like all of you see a different side of me, some better than others. And I don’t want to live a lie.’’ ‘’I understand and I don’t want that from you. I want you to be yourself around me. even if that other side isn’t great. It’s still you.’’

That makes us fall quiet again and out of sudden he asks;

‘’Do you have anything you need to tell me Mila? I won’t judge you, not matter what it is.’’ I process his words and feel the urge to spill every single thing that has happened out. But I guess, I have to start with the hardest one.

‘’I-I used to drink, a lot. After that guard got shot by my former friend I only found comfort in alcohol. But somehow, I got over it, with the help from Trace and Aliya.’’ He looks at me. ‘’I know.’’ Haiden says. ‘’W-wait you did?’’ I let go of his hand and raise an eyebrow ‘’Yes and its understandable I had a similar problem.’’ How crazy how a couple words could change an entire mood. There’s tension but I also feel relief. Relief that we both finally told each other.

‘’Tell me.’’ I urge him.

‘’It was a sort of mix between prescription drugs and alcohol.’’ He looks at the floor. ‘’But it’s better now?’’ ‘’I’m working on it.’’ I smile sadly. ‘I guess we’re a nice mess together. I’m here for you, you know? I’ll always be.’’ ‘’Really.’’ I should define that always. Right now, it feels like always and I don’t want to take away that hope. ‘’Yes.’’ Is my reply.

We let the silence take over again as it tells more than we could ever say. I’m the one to break it once again.

‘’I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about my problem, I felt too ashamed.’’ I confess.

‘’Don’t worry about it, you respect my privacy so I’ll respect yours.’’ He simply says and I appreciate that.

‘’Some other things you might want to get off your chest now we’re at it. or was that about it?’’ I ask him. ‘’There’s always more, but non-I want to talk about right now.’’ Haiden says back and I nod. ‘’You don’t have to. Besides, I think you can get dressed now. They’ll be here in a minute or ten.’’ I tell him, referring to Aliya and Ray but he doesn’t know.

‘’Okay, fine. But I’m kind of freaked out about this. ‘’You don’t have to really, I’ll be waiting in the stables for you.’’ He smiles and gently pushes me out of his room.

I take a deep breath, feeling heavy with the conversation we just had. Relieved but heavy and my mind clouded. I have to shake it away, knowing that our next destination won’t be lighthearted either.

Haiden walks in minutes later, dressed in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He looks normal.

I smirk up to him. ‘’You look great without a suit. I promise you, we won’t go horseback riding.’’ He seems extremely relieved with that promise. ‘’Thank God for that.’’ I look over my shoulder back to the car. ‘’I am back in a second. Stay here and try to don’t get bit by one of the horses.’’ That makes him chuckle and I can’t tell if it’s out of fear or he liked that joke. I walk out of the stables and see Aliya standing there.

I can’t help myself and run up to her hugging her at instant. ‘’Ali!’’ I squeal, glad to see her without a rebel attack. ‘’Mila! Are you feeling better?’’ she asks worried and pulls away to look at me.

‘’I feel fine now, a little nervous taking Haiden to the shelter. Thank you so much, this means the world to me.’’ ‘’He should be proud of you like I am. Don’t worry Mila, this is a part of you, so he can only accept and love that.’’ she says and I sigh. ‘’I guess he will. Talking about guys, where is Ray?’’ I ask and while looking around someone behind Aliya coughs and Ray takes a step forward.

Aliya laughs ‘’Right, Mila this is Ray. Ray this is Mila.’’ I blush for not noticing him and try to joke it off. ‘’I’m sorry, I couldn’t see past the ego. Just kidding, nice to meet you Ray.’’ I laugh.

‘’Well and Ali said you were sweet? Nice to meet you too Mila.’’ He can’t help but to let out a small laugh too and I smile to them as I ask a little more about the situation at the camp. I heard Sophia got promoted and Tracie went to college. I’m proud of both of them, glad they are continuing their lives.

‘’When is Haiden coming?’’ Aliya asks in between our jokes. My reuniting with her almost made me forget about him. Ray groans at the mention of Haiden and I ignore him. ‘’He’s waiting in the stables, the poor guy thought I would force him on a horse.’’

Aliya shakes her head in laughter. ‘’A horse? That would have killed him.’’ I roll my eyes in agreement. ‘’I’ll be right back.’’ I promise her. ‘’Great, I’ll keep Ray in check. You’re doing something great Mila.’’ She says. ‘’And you two are helping me with it.’’ I remind them before walking off to Haiden who is patiently waiting for me.

I do hope Haiden thinks the same of my good intentions. The situation of the Eights is so important. Especially now he will be King. People are expecting him to make changes. Soon.

As I walk in I take out a sash of one of my dresses. If he sees Aliya or Ray he will definitely not go with me. this is just for his own good. ‘’Okay, like I said I have to blindfold you. Just for your own safety. I promise I won’t get you in any danger.’’ He nods. ‘’Alright, I trust you.’’ I smile and tie the blindfold around his head, covering his eyes. ‘’You can’t see a thing, right?’’ I ask. ‘’Define a thing.’’ He replies and I let out a laugh. Does he always have to be so difficult? Can’t he just say yes or no?

‘’Do you only see darkness?’’ ‘’Then yes.’’ I take his hand. ‘’Good, now follow me. Take slow steps.’’ His grip on my hand tightens.

‘’Can you tell me where we’re going yet?’’ ‘’It won’t be a surprise if I did.’’ I reply as we reach the car. Ray has taken a place behind the stirring wheel as Aliya sits next to him smiling towards me and Haiden. ‘’There is a car in front of you now, please don’t hit your head.’’ I help him sit down carefully before taking the spot next to him.

I gesture Aliya to be quiet as she shakes her head and turns forward.

‘’Can this count as kidnapping?’’ Haiden asks and Aliya has trouble covering her laugh. ‘’It might? But I’m not kidnapping you. My maids and some guards know where we’re going.’’ That was true but he can’t help himself. ‘’Kidnapper.’’ He says, letting out a fake cough.

‘’Maybe, would you rather stay in that boring palace instead of seeing the real world?’’ ‘’I am not seeing anything at the moment.’’ I roll my eyes once again as we stay silent and the car starts moving. It’s a short drive to the shelter and I watch the area around us from the window the spare trees covering the land within the farther enormous hills. I wish I could see more of Angeles.

Even though being here with Haiden is my biggest desire, traveling would always be a great wish. Would I lock myself down with a responsibility to this country if Haiden decides it’s me? would I have to stay in Angeles for the rest of my life? I sure would be traveling but it would be limited. I shake my head and look over at him. The uncomfortable look on his face of not knowing where he’s going. I would do that for him, for the sake of this country. If I want to make changes, I have to make sacrifices.

The car stops after a ride of 15 minutes and I thank Ray and Aliya and help Haiden out of the car. ‘’We’re here. You can take the blindfold off now.’’ He does as I say and flinches as the bright light hits his eyes. I feel a little sorry but smile as he faces me.

‘’So, as it’s around the corner I might as well tell you. I’m taking you to one of the many shelters for Eights in Angeles. In Bankston, I often spend my free time around there, making food or reading to children.’’ I expect him to smile at me or at least say something other than; ‘’Oh.’’ It leaves his lips as a surprise.

‘’Like I said, it isn’t romantic. But it’s important, these people are your subjects too.’’ He nods and follows me a little stiffly.

The shelter is an old building with rotten windows and a squeaking old door. They try their best but it will never be the luxury of the palace.

It must have been longer than a month since I came here for the last time. It was before all the drama surrounding Ethan and the alcohol. I knew we weren’t allowed to leave but I had to, I had to get away for a little while. A guard, a friend of Liam went with me and brought me safely to the village just outside Angeles. The only place in Angeles with a shelter for Eights. I knew there were a lot homeless people on the streets in the city of Angeles, crowding the streets. But that it would be so many I had never guessed. It makes me feel horrible. I had been complaining all this time over Ethan’s letters and flowers, that were my worries at that time. These people were at risk of being murdered in the streets.

There were more shelters in Bankston, I volunteered at one once in the two weeks. It gave me purpose. I liked being around the people. Hearing their stories.

I try to continue the conversation telling him a little about my adventures here, as he might be questioning them. ‘’You might have guessed that I have come here before. that was all before the attack and any serious danger. So, I’ve broken a couple of the palace rules but we have come quite familiar with that. I had a guard with me though, so it was alright.’’

I take a pause as I see two children run past us, two boys chasing each other while laughing loudly. ‘’The children around here are quite happy as you see. They are not aware of how unfair is really treating them.’’ I open the door and inhale the scent of stew and old wood.

Haiden follows me as he is fidgeting a little. ‘’Why’d you start coming here in the first place?’’ he asks. ‘’Because I think these people deserve a chance too. Just because the Caste said so they have to live these lives instead of getting jobs and enjoying life. Using my privilege to help them out is the least I can do.’’ I answer without hesitation. I thought he would know around now. We talked about this so many times.

‘’That’s… very noble of you.’’ Haiden says looking around the shelter. People are talking with each other at tables, eating out of plastic bowls. They look weird at us and some recognize me from the last time. None of them seem to know Haiden.

‘’If I were an Eight, I would appreciate it if people did the same for me.’’ we walk around a little. ‘’Have you ever been to a shelter like this one before?’’ I ask him. ‘’Once or twice when I was young, but we stopped coming.’’ I frown. ‘’Why did you stop?’’ ‘’It seemed people didn’t want our help.’’ He sounds a little bitter.

‘’That is strange.. a couple months ago I only heard people complain about the lack of attention. Some people are just never grateful for what they have.’’ Haiden shrugs his shoulders. “That’s why I love the children here the most. They actually appreciate the things you give them. See that girl over there?” I point to the blonde girl in the corner. I don’t know her name but she can’t be much older than Kian. Haiden looks at her and nods. “Yeah?”

“That book in her hands is mine, she started crying out of gratitude when I gave it to her. Her mother got pregnant unmarried so now they live here. They used to be Three’s..” I bite on my lip as I look at the girl who’s reading peacefully. “That’s so sad.” Haiden mumbles.

Now it’s my turn to nod my head. “I know, the worst thing is that she didn’t ask for this. And still, she got to live such a cruel unfair life.” I turn to him and I see he is having trouble. He doesn’t like it here. But I don’t know if that is because he doesn’t like to be confronted with the truth or it’s something else.

“I-I think it’s time Haiden. Time to finally do something about all these people and this kind of living. They deserve a chance too.” “Mila, I-I.. You know it’s not my call yet.” I shake my head. “But someday it will.” “I-I don’t know.” He replies and I feel like screaming. Doesn’t he see? Doesn’t he know he will have one day all the power to change it.

“I just can’t watch anymore. I can’t watch all these people miss their opportunities for a good life, just because a Caste decided they don’t belong in society. Don’t you want that too? A fair life for them?” I feel like I’m attacking him but maybe he needs it.

“O-of course I do, but this system has existed f-for generations. I can’t just change it.” Was I being naïve? Of course, it’s hard but with even harder work we should be able to fulfill it. Why wasn’t he having the same trust as I had?

“Be fair, yes there would change a lot if the Castes would be gone” but what problem is there if a Six aspires to be a scientist if that is her or his dream and passion? Who would get hurt by that?” It is good that the shelter is noisy because my voice raises a lot with my temper.

“It’s not that they’d get hurt, it’s… Complicated.” “Of course, it’s complicated. Nothing so far in life has been easy, not for me. But I’m willing to fight for it. Aren’t you?”

He shakes his head “I don’t know.” He confesses. I let out a sigh coming to my final statement. The reason I took him here and not to a romantic picnic under the stars. That is fun and all this is real, this is his life.

“J-just take this place as a reminder… These are your people too and if you decide to do something against the Castes these people will always have your back.”

Haiden stares at me for a moment. “You really do care about this.” Wasn’t that obvious?

I nod. “With all that I am.” He takes my hand and squeezes it softly. The silence returns and I draw a sharp breath. ‘’I let myself go again. I’m sorry if anything came out too harsh.’’ I apologize. I feel like we’re constantly apologizing for our behavior.

He shakes his head. ‘’No, it’s okay. You’re passionate I get it.’’ I shrug my shoulders a little helpless. ‘’I wanted to share my passion with you. Just in case, whatever your decision might be.’’ ‘’I understand, I really do.’’ He confirms once again.

‘’Thank you, that means a lot to me.’’ ‘’It’s no problem. Who am I to judge?’’

‘’A Prince, a man I look up to. besides, taking you here is against a lot of rules of the palace. I don’t mind breaking them for a better cause.’’ ‘’Rules are meant to be broken aren’t they.’’ ‘’It depends, I guess. Some broken rules mean you end up here, as an Eight.’’

‘’Yeah.’’ He says looking to the ground in order to avoid my gaze. After a long pause I dare to ask him:

‘’Haiden… are you scared to make drastic changes?’’ his head shoots up and he shakes it. ‘’I don’t… maybe.’’ I put my hand on his arm. ‘’No one can blame you if you do. Everyone understands that it’s nt easy to make them.’’ It’s common sense. Not a lot of people want to be in his shoes. They couldn’t imagine making all the difficult decisions he has to make. I just want to be there for him.

‘’Why are you like this?’’ he snaps and I take a little step back. Ouch, that feels like a slap in the face. I stare at him and bite my lip. Did I hear him right? ‘’W-what do you mean?’’ I ask him carefully, my voice shaking. Did something change his mind about me as I took him here? Did he realize that I’m not the girl suited for him?

‘’Y-you constantly look for the good in me, justify my idiotic actions, act like you’re actually in love with me. I-I don’t understand.’’ He makes a helpless gesture.

‘’Because I am..’’ I mutter and try to find the words. ‘’No, you don’t always make the right decisions and no you’re not perfect. But that makes you, you. You are a good person Haiden, you have been so kind with me even if I were a mess and screwed everything up.’’ I tell him.

‘’I just… I don’t understand.’’ More heads are looking or way and I take his hand and take him outside so we can talk with a little more privacy.

‘’I-I just do Haiden, falling in love is hard to explain.’’ ‘’I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.’’ I shake my head and wipe my hair out of my face.

I want to say that I understand, that he doesn’t have to apologize but how many times have I said that. that I understand and everything is fine. What if it’s not? what if I don’t understand, that it’s not alright? I nod and push out a smile.

‘’No, don’t worry. I understand.’’

Back in the palace I flee to my room.

I feel empty. I had showed Haiden my greatest passion, showed him that he has the power to change the situation in Illéa. He didn’t see he could make the changes this country needs. He doesn’t know where he is capable of. I wish he didn’t see himself as a bad person, that he knows I’m not the only who admires him.

He needed convincing to be sure that I loved him, but what if I don’t want to convince him anymore? What if just want to love and know that he loves me back? Is it so bad that I need security? As long as the Selection is still going I know that I would never have that.

What if it’s been enough? All the things that have happened and all the worries and doubts… what if it’s just all a sign that I’m not right for this, that my future isn’t in a palace but out of it? all this time I thought I wanted this. But do I really?

I don’t know, I don’t anything anymore.

#selectionoc #milaregan #mine #heiroc #this sucks

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elysiumrp · 7 years

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Congratulations TAYA! You have been accepted as Bethany Heaton. Please go through the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours. If you need more time, make sure you send a message to the main.

And here we go again, another Heaton to add to the list of possibilities that can happen to Elysium – and Taya? Just as you just knew that Bethany was the girl for you, we just know that you’re the girl to play her. How you connected with her out of everyone, and trust me, I know the difficulty of reading them all and not being able to make up your mind except with trusting your instinct with the one you always go back to. That says a lot if instincts tell you. The plans you have for, not only her growth as a character, but with how she sees herself and interacts with others is something we’re excited for. Elysium is a character-driven plot and only the plans you have can fulfil it. Also, may I tag in and say that the comprehension you have for knowing that it’s time that develops the character is simply spot on? From your first answer to your sample para, as stated before, you’re the girl to play Bethany. Welcome to Elysium!!

OOC INFO

Name: Taya Age: 23 Timezone: EST Preferred Pronouns: She/Her Previous RP Experience: [RFP] Activity Level: 7-8; I work full-time in an office setting as a social media marketing strategist, so I have access to a computer (& Tumblr) 100% of the time. I’ll usually be most active in the early morning and the late evenings as these are slower times of day for me. Anything Else: Nope!

IC INFO

Character Name: Bethany Heaton Why did you choose this character:

I can’t tell you how many times I read over, not one or two, but all of the character biographies, and each time I kept finding my way back to Bethany. There’s something so genuine and real in the witch who struggles with, not only her magic, but her place in life as well. The connection I felt immediately after reading her sparked tons of muse. I think exploring her feelings about the incident with Ryan is going to be a monumental part of her story. And not only that, but how she moves past it and becomes stronger for it. Right now, I see her as someone who’s questioning everything - herself, her strength, her powers, her place in the world - and, in many ways, is very much lost. Because of what happened with Ryan, it’s morphed this genuine, kind, lively woman into someone who’s delicate, distrustful, flighty, and suspicious. I connected with that, those emotions, on so many levels that I just knew Bethany was the right character for me.

Describe your plan for them:

There are several different plans I’ve already imagined for Bethany, but some of the key ones are explained below. One of the things that really stood out to me in her biography was her ability to sense other witches. I think this could be an untapped power for Bethany and she just doesn’t realize it. She’s worked so hard to learn all of the magic that’s so hard for her to grasp that she easily looked over what comes naturally to her. With practice, I could see her ability to detect other witches transforming into a mastering of aura reading. It wouldn’t happen overnight, of course, but I think eventually, Bethany would be able to differentiate between different species and maybe even detect moods.

Another thing I really want to focus on is Bethany’s reaction to her attack. I see her taking non-magical self-defense classes, as well as learning magical defense, because she vows to never be put into that type of situation again and not be able to better protect herself. If she hadn’t been able to do what little bit of healing spells she could manage, Bethany would be dead. That fact is not lost on her and she realizes, now more than ever, the dangers of being a witch.

Also, I think it’s important to remember that Bethany wasn’t just attacked - she was attacked at the hands of her boyfriend, someone she loved and cared for with every fiber in her being. Not only is she suffering from the incident itself, but Bethany is heartbroken and I think that’s a side of her that needs to be addressed as well. She’s in fear of her life, even after running away, from the man she loves. That isn’t easy and I plan to show her process of getting through it, rebuilding her life and herself, and rising from the ashes.

And finally, I want to explore her relationship with Oliver more. Hopefully, repairing and strengthening what two years of separation has caused the brother and sister, eventually revealing Ryan’s role in her move to New York.

Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the initial reveal of the supernatural world:

I imagine Bethany to be someone who is naturally optimistic. She always hopes for the best in things, and that’s exactly what she done when supernaturals were revealed. It wasn’t enough for her to publicly come forth as being a witch. She was logical, after all, and knew that the reaction of the citizens might be received badly. So, she kept quiet, but watched, waiting to see what her next move should be.

Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the current state of the world, and how it impacts them as an individual:

Currently, Bethany fears for her life, especially after everything that happened with Ryan. It’s still so new, so fresh. She practices in secret and has tried to keep her head low. She doesn’t want any attention drawn to her, certainly not from Jacob since she suspects him of being a hunter. She has no valid proof though, just a picture of him and Ryan from long ago. The association with her ex-boyfriend is enough to make her blood run cold. Though, it’s important to mention that Bethany is pro-equality and yearns to be a voice for her people, but first that voice must be found.

Para Sample:

Shit. Bethany thought as the chime of a new text pulled her attention to the phone resting on the counter. It was Oliver, the one person she’d been avoiding since her move to the city. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her brother, or even that she didn’t want to talk to him. She just didn’t know how to talk to him. Not after what happened. Decidedly, it was best not to tell him about the incident with Ryan, but Bethany had never been any good at keeping secrets. Every emotions clearly splayed on her face for the world to see. No, Oliver would see right through her. And the very second she lied, he’d know.

Wiping her hands on a hand towel arranged in the shape of swan, Bethany made sure they were dry before grabbing the phone and reading over the text her brother sent. It was simple. Nothing more than ‘we need to talk’, which effectively made her heart start to race. Had he found out she was in New York? Scarier even, did he know why she had fled to the city? Bethany hoped that wasn’t the case, but it was rather strange for her brother to reach out with such an ominous message.

Deciding it would be better to address whatever he needed sooner rather than later, she promptly hit the call button and waited for an answer. It came quickly after only two rings. There was no friendly 'hello’ or 'how are you’ and Oliver quickly got down to the reason behind his call.

“Are you home?” He asked, his voice hard and flat.

“No, actually.” Bethany answered, her mind reeling. “I’ve been at Ryan’s for a few days. Is everything okay?” She lied, hoping that he’d only be able to call bullshit if he’d seen her in person.

No sooner than the words left her mouth, a knock sounded at her hotel room door. “Uhm, can you hold on a sec, Ollie?” She asked, leaving the vanity area directly outside the bathroom and walking towards the door. A peek through the peep-hole confirmed her suspicions. Somehow against all odds, Oliver had found her. Beth’s mind struggled to pull an excuse from thin air as her hand made it’s way to the doorknob. When she finally pulled the door open, a smile was plastered on her face. “How’d you find me? I was hoping to surprise you.” She feigned innocence.

His face had disbelief written all over it. “Cut the bullshit, Bethie. Why are you here?"

Shit.

Any questions/concerns/things you’d like to change: (siblings to add, pronouns, sexuality you’d like to specify, personality, face claim, history, etc., etc.)

Not that I can think of, other than changing her from registered to unregistered! Other than that, I hope my depictions of Beth suits you.

#accepted #bio rp #new rp #new rpg #new roleplay

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