Leave me alone.
Saxima isn't home right now and is on her phone, she is sorry for the inconvenience, and all characters are placed to sleep; locations and situations to be elaborated on tomorrow. Thanks.
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ TIRED ✖ DAY 22 ※ 4/4 ✖ DATE ※ 10/13/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ LONDON, ENGLAND [/url]When Sam started to laugh, Hay Sun rolled her eyes. She was trying — honestly, she was, but this was completely ri-fucking-diculous. All of the times he died, she remembered, and even killed him a few times herself, with vise versa events. Did he think he was the only one who was scared of what they were capable of? Didn't they have this talk before, once upon a life? Some of her memories were so damned diluted, she couldn't remember anymore. ❝Most powerful doesn't make you the strongest one, dumbass.❞ she said with a click of her tongue, and then watched him pull out his wand that began to glow faintly, the same as his arm. She raised an eyebrow and then gave a tired grin. ❝You're free to come at me if you like. Just see what will happen.❞ She grinned, ❝Gladly.❞ And then she swung the bat at his head. Before the hit could connect, Hay Sun saw Red come up from behind, and with suddenly widening eyes, she wrenched the swing to a stop, feeling a surge of anger at being interrupted. Sam was falling, and then reflexively, Hay Sun caught Blanc, cradling her almost protectively. As soon as she let go of her bat, it dissolved. ❝Yeah, got her . . .❞ she murmured in reply. Feeling more tired than annoyed, Hay Sun laid Blanc on the bed next to Red and glanced over at the now-tied-up Sam, frowning deeply. She looked at the others who were asleep now, and then sighed, ❝You're a dumbass, Paco,❞ she murmured in reply stroking his cheek with her thumb. After standing up, giving another sigh and a stretch, she flopped tiredly onto the bed, passing out.
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MEANWHILE, IN SOUTH KOREA . . . W E A R I N G ✚ S O L V E ? ✚ M U S I CMOOD ※ THOUGHTFUL / CONFUSED ✚ DAY 22 ※ 4/4 ✚ DATE ※ 10/13/2013 ✚ LOCATION ※ HOME • SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA LEO spent most of the evening stringing up a map of the world in places where public city cameras had been tapped into by one of his friends so that he could track his damned sister down. He still didn't understand why she had runaway from home, but he was annoyed because he wasn't her caretaker, even with dad asking. Even with dad asking . . . He clicked his tongue.⎧They were in New York, United States.⎭ came a voice over the intercom, ⎧It was late at night, and they were picking someone up.⎭He leaned into his triple-monitor setup, concentrating, ⎧Pull up the video, please.⎭⎧You got it, Leo.⎭ the voice replied, and then a few seconds later, his vivid blue eyes were entranced by the dark night in the United States. There was her motorcycle, and there was another man on it . . . She was traveling with people? She never let anyone touch her bike, it was a universal law which had her laying death threats on everyone that even thought about it.⎧This was about two weeks ago . . .⎭ he murmured to himself, and then he asked his contact to continue tracking into the next two weeks. The public feed was cut short when the oddball group boarded the airplane and that'w when things got a little weird for Leo. The airplane crashed, but he had a clear view of the plane surveillance, and someone . . . appeared, not that he was really shocked by this, but Hay Sun knew them, and that redhead that she was with — it was Xathanael.The other was Ariel. What the hell . . . Why would she be with angels? He shook his head, and then the feed found itself streaming out of London where he had tuned in time to see Gabriel taking Ariel away. Hay Sun was crying? That was definitely weird because Hay Sun didn't cry. It was like the motorcycle thing; a law of the universe.. . . He seriously hoped this didn't mean what he thought it did. ⎧Turn off the feed. That's enough for tonight.⎭ he said.⎧Alright man. Hey, who's the chick you're tracking anyway?⎭⎧Bao, you should know better than that.⎭⎧Alright, alright. No questions.⎭ Bao sounded slightly teasing and Leo rolled his eyes, shutting down his system. ⎧G'Night then, Leo.⎭ The line went cold, and then he climbed into bed after stripping down to his briefs. This was ridiculous, having to track his sister halfway across the world . . . What was she doing with angels? He tried to think of alternatives — any other alternatives. Before any could come, he drifted to sleep. ιllιlı.ıl L lııl E lııl O lıιllιlı.
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ TIRED ✖ DAY 22 ※ 4/4 ✖ DATE ※ 10/13/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ LONDON, ENGLAND [/url]Ahh, Hay Sun was tired, and . . . what the fuck was up with Paco? His mood and attitude were really pissing her off and it was pretty much all she could do to not snap his neck or spine, or something decapitating. The Shane guy was useful where Hay Sun didn't feel like doing anything, and oversaw the comeback of Red and wondered what the hell put her in a spot with Paco in the first place. He was a shady guy, she had mentioned before, but to what lengths was he going to . . . be such an ass? . . . And then he tried kicked Cass in the stomach. Ahaha. Aw hell no. She might have tried to strangle the girl earlier, but that wasn't because Hay Sun disliked her or anything, it was because she woke up on . . . the wrong side of the bed ( so grumpy, Hay Sun! ) Fortunately for him, she dodged and she was in neutral mode once more, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. Red was trying to reason with the guy, but Hay Sun couldn't see it working . . . What had his feathers in a bunch anyway? Abbadon was dangerous, for sure, a destructive force through and through, but Hay Sun didn't think that Paco wanted this, maybe. She hated giving dumbasses the benefit of the doubt, but she actually liked Pa — . . . Sam. Ugh. ❝Samuel,❞ She glanced at his face, and he started talking. Urge to destroy everything. Overwhelming tendency to break things. Unwillingly succumbing to those urges. . . . Hurting everyone around you. Ah, shit. He was fucking making Hay Sun feel, and it was so goddamned late at night. Dammit, she was tired. When he started tugging more on Blanc, Hay Sun took a step forward, ❝Alright Paco, I think that's good enough.❞ she told him, ❝C'mon let the kid go, she stays with us. What is it with you anyway? I'll say this once, let her go. Or I'll kill you. It's late, and all we wanna do is sleep in one piece. Is that too much to ask?❞ She laughed tiredly, ❝I mean, come on, you don't really think that you can't control yourself? That's a psychosomatic thing, you're just talking yourself into thinking you can't control it.❞ Hay Sun took another step forward, sliding behind Sam and grabbing Blanc's arm herself, pulling her to the side, ❝I don't know what else to say to you, man, but if you need a reality check, I'm more than willing to beat one into your ass.❞ She waved her hand through the air and her bat materialized, just to show she wasn't joking.
N E A R L Y • C R A S H E D • C O M E T Breakfast was moving smoothly and when he thought that he was no longer needed, he quickly finished his breakfast and began clearing away empty plates to the kitchen. His phone had also vibrated in his pocket a few times, and it was the opportunity to check it. He disliked having a phone for the reason that undesirables could contact him, but SOPHIE insisted on it, as well as AYANNA. Since he knew better, the messages would, no doubt, be from AYANNA, with the contents of his wretched character and his contemptible patrons. While he agreed with his patron, there was little for him to comment on her view of his character which she did not fully know. It was safe to say their relationship was rather . . . sour. From: Ayanna Subject: Duty Miserable little souless dog, I'm sure you've yet to notice that your sister hasn't shown at Miss Bennett's soireé, and you haven't even checked on her. She's in the hospital, checked in because of a carwreck. Were there an award for brother of the year, it would most certainly be awarded to you, Lucas. Lucas blinked at the message once or twice. He had remembered hearing about a second victim of the crash, but he hadn't thought it would be FATIME. She had been coming here with JULIUS MENON? Why him, Lucas wondered? But that mattered little; the fact was, she was in the hospital and his Christmas gift to her was still not given, which was completely unacceptable. He shook his head. ❝Careless Fatime.❞ he murmured to himself, I would have come for you if you might have asked. It also would have spared him from AYANNA's bitter attempts to shame him. He sighed, slipped his phone away, and then opened a drawer to pull out a small notebook and pen. My sister is in the hospital with Julius Menon. I will be visiting her.CAN'T READ THE FONT? After finishing his post-breakfast chores, he grabbed his pea coat, umbrella ( it was a little rainy outside ), and scarf. Carefully, he set off to the hospital AYANNA had directed him to. SOPHIE was a big girl, she could handle her guests. With the black parcel tucked under his arm, Lucas walked into the hospital and was directed to his sister's room. The receptionist seemed to not like him much for the fact that he seemed awfully suspicious; a tall young man, dressed in mostly black. He was repelled by this fact; for all she knew, he could be visiting a dying or already-dead relative. Humans were far too quick to judge. Up, up, up, to FLOOR FOUR to look for ROOM 315. His eyes danced from number to number, from occupant name to occupant name until he found the room he was looking for, and what a surprise! They were both in there. He would have courteously bought flowers, but he thought it might have depressed FATIME to some fashion, since they died rather quickly. He knocked on the door and didn't wait for a reply to open it. There she was, his small, frail-looking sister, setting down a phone that certainly wasn't hers. His eyes trailed to the unconscious, almost noble figure of JULIUS, the beloved play professor. He wondered how many students would find it in them to pass by. ❝I see you're still in one piece, Faye.❞ he said, setting down the long, parcel by her bedside, ❝I suppose you cannot keep a comet out of commission for long, but you really shouldn't be out of bed. Are you well?❞
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆⌠ DAY 6 │ 1/4 ⌡ ◆ ⌠ DATE │ DECEMBER 26TH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ LOCATION │ GUEST ROOM / DINING ROOM ⌡⌠ MOOD │ TIRED / THOUGHTFUL / BOTHERED ⌡ ◇ ⌠ ❤ │ NOËLLE : 38% / SOPHIE : 13% ⌡ ◆ ⌠ MUSIC !! ⌡◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ The lack of warmth next to him while he was surfacing to consciousness was both comforting and annoying; annoying because he usually latched onto things in his sleep, and comforting because Richie wasn't around and he could freely act as he usually did in the mornings. Considering no alcohol had entered his system, he was confident that nothing distasteful had happened involving him, even if he and the other boy had slept in the same bed together. It was better if he didn't think about it, mostly because he was being considerably petty and childish towards the situation with Sophie and Lucas. It didn't make him feel better that there was no Noëlle to console himself with . . . This is ridiculous. He slipped on his clothing. Something to the side caught his eye and he found a slip of paper with a name and number scrawled onto it; Richie's. He smirked, folding it up, and then brought the remainder of his belongings to the foyer, for when he would leave. The pleasing aroma of breakfast entered his senses, and having been hungry since early yesterday, he was naturally drawn to the kitchen, where the scent originated. He saw Lucas gathering a tray of drinks and came to an abrupt stop, not knowing how to approach him without being looked at with those knowing eyes that annoyed him to no end. "I assume that you are smart enough to have not left a mess in the guest room?" What a presumptuous guy! Quentin definitely didn't like him. He shrugged his shoulders, "There wasn't a mess to clean up." he replied curtly, walking over to lean on the counter top, watching Lucas collect the drinks onto a tray. "I see." Lucas responded monotonously, "If you are just going to stand there, then you might do better to make yourself useful. Please help me with these drinks." Quentin was surprised; the behavior and skill this guy displayed last night made him wonder why he wasn't capable himself, but he smirked, shrugged, and then gathered a tray himself. Soon, they walked into the dining room with the trays, and were setting drinks down left and right. Quentin didn't look at anyone until he sat down in the unoccupied chair by Richie, fixing himself a generous plate of food. He glanced sidelong to where Sophie was sitting and she seemed to stare back with cold eyes, and then turn back to her food. When someone asked for ginger ale ( Quentin wasn't paying attention to who it was ), Lucas handed them a glass and returned to his chair. Maybe I should make time to talk with her instead of . . . He trailed off in thought and then firmly rejected the thought, No, she needs to come to me first. Two could definitely play at the waiting game. Just as he was about to strike up a conversation with Richie, who didn't seem to notice him sit down, the other was getting to his feet and dragging Elisa off with him out of the dining room, bidding Sophie and her 'beautiful house' goodbye. His eyebrow twitched in irritation, but it was fine . . . And embarrassing. When he glanced up again, she seemed to be laughing at his situation and whispering to Lucas, who also was amused. It was an annoying morning all of a sudden, and Quentin just wanted to go home. I'm too tired for this.
H U S S L E • A N D • B U S S L E • M O R N I N G Late to sleep, early to rise; something one of my personal mentors used to tell me. Being diligent in everything I do was a good work ethic, and I should never let that habit die to pleasure or temptation of things that might ruin me. Despite my lack of interest in school, it was something that passed me through with flying colors, at the top of my class. Each of the guests had woken up one by one while I was preparing breakfast, and the kitchen had become far too noisy and crowded for the time of morning, for SOPHIE, anyway. Her hangover was nothing to sneeze at, and it would have been a terrible idea to upset her. While she escorted everyone to the dining room — they had stayed in there for at least a good ten minutes — I had taken the opportunity to see what non-present guests were up to. NATALIE WILLIAMS and SARAH COLEMAN were leaving the premises, and I had no reason to stop them; a bothersome pair, they had been last night. TUCKER KNOWLES and MARIA HARTWICK had fallen asleep together, and only one of them was up. PIERCE MHENJER was the one who concerned me. She had left her room rather early, and was now in the main foyer. Leaving without saying goodbye to SOPHIE? Unacceptable, but there may be something I don't know — which is a rarity. I quickly walk down to the foyer ( I only have three minutes left ), and greet PIERCE. ❝Good morning, Pierce,❞ I begin, ❝I hope you are not leaving without bidding farewell to Sophie. She would not be pleased if you did.❞ There is a troubled look on her face, and I can see that she did not want to be found. ❝Perhaps she upset you, but I'm sure she did not really mean to. I hope that you will reconsider parting on a bad note.❞ I smile at her, and then return to the kitchen. The others were relatively alright, which was almost a bit to my dismay. Oftentimes, people mistake my niceties and cordiality for being fond of them, but truth be told, I cannot stand most of them. Each of them has at least one thing that interests me, yes, otherwise . . . I return to the kitchen just as SOPHIE arrives once more, and then FREDERICK makes his morning appearance, and I serve him coffee, per request. I have a small idea as to what may be going on between the two, but it isn't my place to intervene. Conflict among friends, I have been told, is best settled among friends. ❝Breakfast is almost ready, Nico.❞ I tell her, and she nods at me. Moments later, another commotion begins, and I hear babbling from a hungover TORVALD TANNHAUSER, who explodes through the kitchen door. I calmly turn around and assess the situation. He is holding a vase of great monetary value; a relic from the Ming Dynasty, and on his head is a lampshade. I nearly laugh, but catch myself. He's broken furniture, there's bits of ceramic attached near the collar of his shirt. I am obviously not pleased with this. He tells me, specifically me, a comrade, he calls me, that the REVOLUTION will not continue, for he has a headache. He tries and fails to walk, and falls to the ground — but that is not the best part; he hits a pan's handle with his hand and it catapults to the ceiling with perfect trajectory. It takes everything in me to not laugh and keep a calm face. He asks me for his medical kit, to which I duly retrieve from a cabinet in the living room, where I confiscated it from him for trying to play forensics on one of the pillows in his drunken stupor. Then he mentions something that catches me off guard. Honey and tea. I smile, and then help TORVALD into a chair, and immediately prepare him warm honey and builder's tea. He seems like the type. I confiscate the vase and place it somewhere safe. ❝The revolution cannot be led without its ignition, Tannhauser. An ignition cannot be lit if it has a headache.❞ I say with a smile, ❝Keep quiet and drink your tea, now.❞ Moments later, breakfast is served. I ask all of the guests to help me set the table, and then everyone is sitting and beginning to eat. ❝Breakfast is served.❞ I say, and retreat to the kitchen, for the drinks. I join them at the table, next to SOPHIE, and we all begin to eat.
* quietly sobs in corner *
⎛ DAY 6 ‖ 1/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ DECEMBER 26TH ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ KITCHEN ⎠ ⎛ MOOD ‖ CALM / HUNGOVER ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ 0% ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ❝ BITE YOUR TONGUE. ❞ ♡ ~ ✖ ~ ♡❝Good morning, Alex,❞ Lucas said without having to turn around, and Sophie nodded at Alex, recognizing his existence. Others would be waking up, and she would be annoyed. Another set of footsteps walked in, and Sophie was hoping it might be Freddie or Oliver, but, ❝Good morning, everyone!❞ ❝You are being too loud.❞ Sophie said in a cold tone, not bothering looking at him. She didn't like him anymore. ❝Sophie, mind your manners,❞ Lucas chided, ❝Good morning, Richie.❞ Sophie sighed exasperantly after clicking her tongue. She hated being nice to people she didn't like. Especially promiscuous, incompetent ones. Someone else mumbled a tired 'Morning,' while walking into the kitchen, and Lucas walked to the refrigerator and grabbed the milk, and poured a glass he then sat on the island next to Dennis, who was the newcomer. ❝'Morning Alex, Blonde Guy, Sophie.❞ At least he wasn't obnoxious. Sophie looked at him while he was yawning and gave a hint of a smile when his reaction clicked in. She saw he had a lollipop in his mouth, and then motioned for him to join them. One more person came in, and this time it was someone that Sophie wasn't completely loath to see. Oliver took a seat not too far away from her, looking quite worse for the wear, and Sophie felt nearly as bad as he looked. His low voice breached her hearing and she looked at him. ❝Hey . . . Do you guys have any Ginger Ale, or Sprite? . . . And anything for headaches?❞ Lucas turned away from his cooking and went back to the fridge, opening it and rustling through to bring out a bottle of ginger ale, and then poured another glass, which Sophie retrieved, and then gave to Oliver. ❝Sophie, please move everyone to the dining room, it is getting crowded.❞ Lucas asked, and Sophie sighed. She was a bit of a better host under the influence than she was with a hangover. She stood from the stool and fixed her cardigan, ❝Alright, follow me,❞ The group walked through a door, and they were in a large dining room with the classic design and a long, dark wood table with fourteen black-cushioned chairs; two at each end, and six on either side. ❝This is the dining room my parents used for parties and such, the other is through that door, but we won't be using it.❞ She sighed, and motioned for them to sit wherever they please. As for herself, Sophie walked back into the kitchen to be with Lucas as he continued to cook and waited for others to wake up. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to see Quentin . . . But of course she would have to, eventually. Leaving the others in the dining room while she returned to Lucas had been a decent idea. They weren't around to annoy her, make her headache worse, or make her coffee taste too bitter. She sighed. They would probably think her a bad host, but they were lucky she didn't throw them all out in the snow. ❝Good morning, Freddie.❞ Lucas said, and Sophie force swallowed her coffee, her posture remaining the same. She had been sleepy last night, and her mind hadn't exactly been in . . . the right state. Freddie, thought she would never outwardly admit it, was her friend. Most people would say Sophie Bennett did not have friends — she had playthings and marionettes. While that was mostly true, there was one very special person every now and again that did rise above the level of 'Toy' and become 'Acquaintance', and then become 'Friend'. It was a long and arduous process for the one that wasn't Sophie, but sometimes it was worth it. ❝What's up, people?❞ Sophie looked over her shoulder and him and made eye contact. One, two, three, four . . . There. Four very long seconds of looking directly at each other before he looked away. He remembered what she did. There were three paths from here; one, mess with his mind and continue from last night, two, ask him about it and be genuine, or three, leave it alone. ❝A very hungover morning.❞ Sophie replied, and then tapped the seat next to her while Lucas offered Freddie ginger ale or coffee. ❝I prefer not to touch base on . . . last night.❞ she said simply, playing with his hair. After all, he was her friend, and she decided she should never mess with friends' minds unless it was serious. ❝Breakfast is nearly ready, Nico.❞
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆⌠ DAY 5 │ 4/4 ⌡ ◆ ⌠ DATE │ DECEMBER 26TH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ LOCATION │ POOL / GUEST ROOM ⌡⌠ MOOD │ PLAYFUL / SIGH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ ❤ │ NOËLLE : 38% / SOPHIE : 13% ⌡ ◆ ⌠ MUSIC ⌡◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ The amount of compliments that Quentin was receiving from Richie was . . . almost ridiculous, but he couldn't help but smile. It was definitely the alcohol, mixed with Richie's attraction to him that was talking. He smiled and grasped Richie's hand under the water, leading him about the pool. "I . . . um . . . I'd like to . . . Actually, it's totally up to you . . ." There was a long pause and Quentin stopped moving, then decided that if this night kept going, he might end up doing something both he and Richie would regret in the morning. Still, he moved closer to the other boy until their faces were inches apart. "I am yours to command." "Is that so?" What a promiscuous little boy he was! Without saying anything else, he grabbed onto his hand again and then led him to the steps of the pool where Lucas was waiting for them with towels. He eyed Quentin closely, and they seemed to have the same line of thought for a few seconds, in which he began to feel a bit guilty, but didn't act on it, and dried himself off a few moments later, just the same as Richie. "I'll show you to a guest room," Lucas said to the pair of them, and after they both grabbed their clothing, he led through the house and up to the second floor. With one last warning look to Quentin, Lucas closed the door on both he and Richie and he glanced over his shoulder at the single, large bed. Well, of course this would happen. It was late, and he was actually pretty tired. He went into the bathroom and changed into the brief shorts he had been wearing under his pants, and then climbed onto the bed and pulled on the blanket, smiling relatively innocently at Richie. "We should go to bed," he said, patting the spot next to him, and Richie smiled, going into the restroom to change as well. When he came out again, Quentin was already laying down, and the smaller boy practically jumped into the bed with him, where he was let to cuddle into Quentin's side who decided to wrap his arm around his waist and breath in deeply and out. He turned off the lamp at the bedside, and in the darkness, the two boys fell asleep.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆⌠ DAY 5 │ 4/4 ⌡ ◆ ⌠ DATE │ DECEMBER 26TH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ LOCATION │ POOL ⌡⌠ MOOD │ PLAYFUL / SIGH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ ❤ │ NOËLLE : 38% / SOPHIE : 13% ⌡ ◆ ⌠ MUSIC ⌡◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ It was notable that Richie's eyes were more clear when the two of them surfaced, but his flirtatious mood wasn't lifted, which was fine with Quentin at this point. "I think the water's perfect . . . Just like you, Quentin." He blinked, a little surprised by the blunt choice of words, and inwardly sighed at this. His own behavior was making him feel a little bad, but there was no use in stopping now. "You flatter me." he replied with a hint of a sly smile. "What do you think? You seem a little . . . apprehensive in the water. Are you alright?" He hummed mindlessly, thinking about the question. He didn't like admitting his weaknesses, and shook his head, "I don't go swimming very often," he replied, moving smoothly around Richie to be behind him. The pool had definitely been a good idea to remove some of the boy's drunkenness, and he smiled, "You seem to like the water," he said, trailing light fingers over the slender shoulders. "Don't sully the pool," echoed a voice, and Quentin looked over his shoulder to see a knowing Lucas, who was cleaning a glassy mess. Quentin grinned at the insinuation, and then returned his gaze to Richie. "It's getting late, what do you want to do?"
⎝ DAY 5┊4/4 ⎞ ❧ ⎝ DATE┊DECEMBER 25TH ⎞ ❧ ⎝ LOCATION┊TENT ⎞⎝ MOOD┊??? ⎞ ❧ ⎝ ❤??┊❤ 96% ⎞ ❧ ⎝ WEARING ⎞ ❧ ⎝ OOC┊ — ⎞ Noëlle nodded and smiled at him; he didn't expect her to do anything else. He wondered how she was feeling, but decided not to ask. The fact that they were still intertwined in each others body was enough of a response to him that she was fine with what was happening. Maybe part of him wasn't, but his desire for Noëlle was pretty overwhelming, so he didn't care much. They cleared everything away to the side of the tent and the two of them slipped under the blankets. Bryan relished the warmth of her body against his because it felt like she completed him, somehow. Had it always been like this? The atmosphere around them calmed him, but he was mostly only aware of her and being. It was perfect, maybe, but there was still something nagging at the back of his mind that he just pushed away. Bryan wasn't not touching her for long, and their hands touched, she moved closer to him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and then their legs laced with each other. Her scent was intoxicating and he didn't know if he could get enough of her. Soon, he thought, he would want more. ". . . Tomorrow . . . You won't leave me, will . . . ?" He shifted and could feel the warmth of her face touching his, with their noses touching. He wanted to kiss her again, to feel the softness of her lips against his, as if they were made for him. He breathed in, "I'd never leave you, don't you know that?" he told her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I love you, Noëlle, and I'll be here for as long as you'll have me." ". . . I love you, too." she replied, and he felt a swell in his heart. ". . . You'll be here forever, then." She sounded beautiful to him, and he wanted to kiss her again. Ugh, so many kisses. She pecked him on the nose and cuddled even more into his body where he then wrapped his arms tighter around her. A few minutes later, he could hear her even, deep breathing, and he sighed contentedly. This felt really . . . perfect, and right and . . . uncomfortable. He leaned into her and pressed his lips against her again. He felt better immediately. He closed his eyes, and then drifted off.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆⌠ DAY 5 │ 4/4 ⌡ ◆ ⌠ DATE │ DECEMBER 26TH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ LOCATION │ POOL ⌡⌠ MOOD │ PLAYFUL / SIGH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ ❤ │ NOËLLE : 38% / SOPHIE : 13% ⌡ ◆ ⌠ MUSIC ⌡◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ Normally a very spatially aware person, Quentin could feel Richie's eyes on him as he walked by the poolside and wondered what was running through his dizzy, drunk-hazed little mind and allowed himself a little smile. He looked to his side when the smaller boy joined him and recognized his slender, slightly feminine form. He let his hand be grabbed and then himself be pulled to the poolside where they sat down. Perhaps a small part of him did feel guilty that he was doing this, that he was behaving so sullenly and struck, but all in the name of love, as they say . . . So he continued. "D - . . . Do you want to go . . . in fir - . . . first . . .?" Maybe a little more than guilty, since he could barely complete a sentence without stumbling, "I'd love to wa - . . . tch you dive in . . ." At this, he eyed the water carefully. He had dove from a diving board before, but it was always difficult taking the jump because he and water didn't exactly mix, so he decided to opt out. "How about we both hop in?" he suggested as the boy leaned his head on his shoulder. His hair was soft. His skin was soft. Naturally, Quentin was taken by his feminine form, so what else was there to do? He hopped in, and then brought Richie with him; hopefully the water would shed off a little bit of his drunkenness so he had a better handle on the situation. When they both surfaced, he was inhaling a deep breath and trying to relax his body in the water, scary stuff . . . "How does that feel?" he asked, wondering what time it was.
⎝ DAY 5┊4/4 ⎞ ❧ ⎝ DATE┊DECEMBER 25TH ⎞ ❧ ⎝ LOCATION┊OUTSIDE/TENT ⎞⎝ MOOD┊??? ⎞ ❧ ⎝ ❤??┊❤ 94% ⎞ ❧ ⎝ WEARING ⎞ ❧ ⎝ OOC┊ — ⎞ Bryan felt a little off about the tea, but he couldn't say no to his little sister, especially on Christmas, and her expression was so hopeful. He wondered if the tea was going to taste bad, and then took a little sip of it, and then scrunched up his nose; it was kind of . . . bitter, and maybe even sour. She had never made this kind of tea before, he wondered what it was. "Bryan, I . . ." she began to talk, and then the tea cup fell from his hands and he went into a coughing fit. For a brief moment, he thought that he swallowed it wrong — or, haha, maybe she poisoned him! That'd suck, wouldn't it? And then he just kind of . . . fell into a paralysis state where he couldn't really move or think. He heard her voice, but it was distant, kind of like she was yelling from outside the house, and he was inside. A weird feeling circulated through his body, and then he mechanically sat up, feeling extremely dizzy and confused. Ahh, what was happening, where was he? He furrowed his eyebrows, thinking hard about what was happening, but . . . Ugh. He got up and left the tent. The voice followed him outside, where it was cold, but he couldn't really feel it; his body was mostly warm, almost like he had a fever or something, but he didn't feel sick. Ahh, something's grabbing me. he thought to himself, coming to an abrupt stop as arms wrapped around him from behind. His initial response was to incapacitate, but then he heard a pleading voice and frowned. "Bryan . . . Bryan, look at me," He finally did turn around, and then looked down at her. Oh, it was Noëlle. . . . Oh. It was Noëlle. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of her, and he remembered a time when they were little, and they used to take baths together. Or that one time, they played 'house', and they were married. Err . . . This was kind of weird. Maybe it felt like he was seeing her for the first time — and he meant really seeing her, as a girl, instead of his sister. As a companion, rather than a sibling. He took her hand and lifted it, realizing how small it was in comparison to his own. Such small, pretty hands . . . he thought to himself, and curled his fingers around her own, lacing their hands together. ". . . Bryan . . . ?" "Have I ever told you that you're extremely beautiful?" he asked thoughtfully, rather innocently. The surge of feelings that he suddenly had for her was kind of . . . uncomfortable. If he had to describe it, maybe it was like some sort of romantic boner that didn't want to go away. It wasn't painful, more like natural, but . . . Bryan wiggled out of her arms, not letting go of her hand, and dragged her back to the tent. When they settled down again, he pulled her into his lap and started humming mindlessly, trying to think of something else. Anything else? It didn't seem to be working. He could only think about her, his sister. Ahh, he loved his sister. A lot. So much. So damn much. Maybe if he tried . . . "Noëlle," he started, and then tilted her chin up, gazing into her deep blue eyes. They were always so pretty; whoever discovered sapphires might have given them to her. Hmm. He leaned his head down and placed his lips against hers. Ahh, damn. It felt really . . . right. He liked it. He liked kissing Noëlle. His sister. 'Sister' was just a genetic relation. That was science, and this was . . . love. A hella lotta love. He pulled back and seemed thoughtful, and then with a shrug, kissed her again, feeling a little more bold, so he ran his tongue over her bottom lip. Had she ever kissed a boy before? What a bad brother he was, haha. Stealing his sister's first kiss. Bryan pulled back again, and then sighed, stroking her cheek with his thumb, "Do you want to sleep out here tonight?"
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆⌠ DAY 5 │ 4/4 ⌡ ◆ ⌠ DATE │ DECEMBER 26TH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ LOCATION │ POOL / DRESSING ROOM ⌡⌠ MOOD │ HURT / PLAYFUL / VINDICTIVE ⌡ ◇ ⌠ ❤ │ NOËLLE : 38% / SOPHIE : 13% ⌡ ◆ ⌠ MUSIC !! ⌡◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ He waited for the blonde haired boy and smirked when he almost stumbled over the doorstep. Quentin had not bargained for this much intoxication. Richie stabilized himself and stared at the boy in front of him. He eventually sat down beside him with exaggerated slowness and spoke. "The wa... water looks so nice... does...n't it? Toooooo... bad I don't have my ba...thing suit..." The boy is pitiable. "Lucas sat our guest sets on the chair." He flipped his wrist in that direction. He noticed that Richie's hand had gotten closer. His entire body had gotten closer. "But you want to go without, don't you?" He looked the boy in the eye to catch his delayed reaction. Richie opened his mouth to reply, but Quentin held up his hand and was on his feet before he could say anything. He grabbed his own swimsuit and tossed the other to his makeshift female lead. The look on the boy's face made him reconsider his childishness. He thought of ways to get Sophie's attention. He could not think of anything to draw her away. . . . Drawing? He remembered his picture for Noëlle for the second time that day. His eyes hardened with the decision that he would not do it again. No. She needs to explain. He began changing on his way to the dressing room. He was practically done by the time he made it. He knew that it would take her a minute to assess what was happening, so he waited by the door. He was sick. He was happy. It is the polite thing to do.
Spoiler: tl;dr "You're too sweet to be revolting." But what Craig didn't know was that those words would bug her for weeks, drive her to break down, to scream, claw, and destroy. Was she really so nice? Was that how everyone saw her? She didn't have such a problem with that, she supposed, but then . . . His perception of her — no, everyone's perception of her was a lie. She had made and let them think that she was too sweet, but after the . . . incident with Makaze, well. . . . Haha. They were all such fools, weren't they? Such silly, ignorant fools. But no, Saxima couldn't bring herself to shatter their perception of her because what would become of her reputation, then? It more or less summed up to the secrets — oh, the secrets. They were many in number, and too large to break down, and she realized that the more she continued to enforce the secrets, to cover up the secrets with lies, the less she was herself . . . The more "sweet" she was. Hilarious, really. None of them had known what they were getting into when they became her friend, had they? Ahh, Poor Hyuge, poor Ashwin . . . Their lovely bodies, forever preserved for her viewing pleasure; kind of like trophies! Trophies that were birthed from her lies and secrets, and her betrayals . . . The incident with Makaze was on another scale, though, and it was the one that had finally tipped her. She was completely and utterly mad! She wanted more, more, more, and now here came along N*Synk-kun, providing just the stage she needed to finally be satisfied. A revolution! Ahh, the blood of her friends would sate her, especially since Hyuge and Ash, and then Makaze were just the beginning. Saxima wondered, whenever Craig would come up, finally, if he would regret saying that. Jayn passed her in the hallway while she was in her chaotic thoughts. "Hi kawaii taco-kouhai!" she chirped, and Saxima smiled a sweet, bright smile; Is this the 'sweet' you're talking about, Craig? she thought to herself, as she caught up with Jayn. "So there's a revolution I'm taking part in. Do you want to join?" And in her grasp behind her back, was a lovely little tool known as a spife. Ahaha. I can too be revolting! Someone tell him!
B - But . . . I'm drunk all the time, and you don't tell me to go to bed then! I call foul. Naw, but for real mayn, I'm not drunk this time! Promise. There's just a revolution afoot that I want to be a part of.
TALLY HO, MOTHERFUCKERS. Let's get this show on the road. I've been wanting to overthrow some form of governing body for like, ever.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆⌠ DAY 5 │ 4/4 ⌡ ◆ ⌠ DATE │ DECEMBER 25TH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ LOCATION │ KITCHEN ⌡⌠ MOOD │ SIGH ⌡ ◇ ⌠ ❤ │ NOËLLE : 38% / SOPHIE : 13% ⌡ ◆ ⌠ MUSIC ⌡◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ Most of the night was spent with other members of the cast and crew, with Quentin doing anything else but thinking about where he was and who he wasn't seeing. He had been feeling a mite melancholy when he realized that Noëlle had left with her brother, whose name seemed to escape him at the moment, and he decided he would text her before the night was out. Apparently, his drawing skills were a bit famous, thanks to the work he and Elisa did on the makeup for the play, and he had been asked to draw for some of the others at least once. Lucas ( there was something about that guy he didn't like ) had provided drawing supplies from seemingly nowhere, much like his presence was that entire night, and by late time, the living room was practically plastered in sketches and drawings that Quentin made. It felt nice to draw again, he had to admit, but it reminded him to despair over the lost sketch of Noëlle that he had worked on two years ago. He remembered that, wow. The thought of drinking with the others wasn't appealing, and he had seen one too many accidents happen while people were under the influence, and he didn't want to make that idiotic mistake for himself . . . But he wasn't beyond taking advantage of it, and so when he got up and headed to the kitchen for a Dr Pepper ( his favorite of all the sodas ) and he saw a drinking Richie Duvont, he cracked a sly grin. There's no point in passing up such an opportunity, and I'm bored anyway. "Aren't you a little young to be drinking?" he asked while popping open the can, although of course there would be insurmountable amount of underage drinking happening. "It feels a little stuffy in here, maybe I should go to the pool, instead . . ." And he glanced sidelong at the blond boy, "Want to come?" he asked, and then turned, not exactly waiting for an answer, and began heading for the pool area. Quentin was definitely the jealous, though not overbearing type, and if Sophie wanted to play this game, then maybe he would too. The indoor pool was . . . ridiculously large. What was it with this house and extravagance? He rolled up his jean pants and took a seat by the ledge, dipping his feet and lower legs in and looking over his shoulder for Richie.
