❥▐ cupid's brew

Evan Allen Walker:
{~~~Day 8(2/4)~~~December 28th, 2015, Monday~~~Location:Home***The Streets~~~Mood:Groovin~~~Music~~~Ooc: N/A~~~}

A sound unlike any other pierced the young man's ears. It was the sound of gongs being bashed over and over again. Like someone was angry at the world and decided that hitting the loudest thing in the world was a good outlet. What it actually was was the young mans alarm clock, (which was actually plastic people hitting a small gong.)

"YAHOO!" He pushed off the covers and reflexively punched the alarm into the currently broken television set. He didn't really ever feel like getting a new one because, well why would he ever bother watching television. There was nothing but nonsense and the news. He could get all the news he wanted just by running outside and blading down the street.

Regardless he walked out of bed bounding with energy. He always seemed to skip that phase in the morning where you were really tired and never felt like doing anything. Looking in the mirror he noticed two things almost instantly. 1) his hair was a mess and b) he was without clothing. He resolved both of these needed to be corrected as soon as humanly possible. Getting out a pair of black track pants and a tie dye tee shirt he quickly rectified the first problem. He "fixed" his hair by just running his hands through it. Looking back at the mirror he gave a thumbs up to himself and went on with the next order of business.

Opening his mini fridge his eyes wandered to last nights dinner. Bacon. It was a completely nutritional and healthy breakfast, one fit only for kings...and people who liked bacon. As he delightfully scarfed the pigs meat down his throat he started to think of what to do for his morning. There wasn't much to do, nor was there ever, for this carefree man so he figured all he would do is take a stroll through the town. Go where the wind takes him.

He jumped out of his seat and walked over to his rollerblades. After retrieving a pair of socks and a brown jacket he slipped his blades right on. He skated over the room, grabbed his phone, his keys and left through the window...of the second story of the building. "WAHOO!" He landed on multiple bags of trash on a dumpster and even though he felt a little jolt run through him, he wasn't bothered by it at all. He simply climbed out, landed on his wheels, and started gliding through the town on his rollerblades, feeling nothing but the wind go through him.

Everything was quite groovy for Evan until his phone started vibrating in his pocket. Looking at the message he saw that "JayJay", real name being Jason Baker, had sent it to him. Something about his little bro Dennis hadn't answered his phone for a few days or something and both he and his parents were started to bug out a little. Then they found out that Dennis was actually in the hospital so Evan was charged with bringing him out since all other legal adults in the family couldn't. He saluted, to his phone, and then started rolling his way to the hospital.

 

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✿ OUTFIT| MUSIC | OOC |MOOD ↝ HELL✿​

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✖ LOCATION ↝ SCHOOL/HOME ✖​

The warm waters trickled down her skin as she slowly turned to nob of the shower for it to close. That's when the water went drip drop drip drop from the tips of her fingers and the strands of her hair. Her blank, blue eyes lost their sparkle and with it came the emptiness of her mind. She felt hallow inside. She felt dead. She knew her heart was beating and that her chest would rise every time she took a breath but other than that it was meaningless. Everything suddenly felt so meaningless.

Moving, breathing, drinking, sleeping, walking, bathing, interacting - it all felt so programmed. She felt like everything she was doing now, had to be done because people told her to. Slipping into her undergarments - even that felt like a task. She didn't bother to brush out her short hair or apply any make up, she exits her bathroom in her floral undergarments. The only thing that really ever seemed much use in her life lately was crying. Her eyes hurt so much from it and she felt more dehydrated than ever, but that's pretty much all she's been doing lately. She had not been eating at all again and she hasn't even touched her computer. Crying. It's all that she could do.

Elisa wandered out of her room and towards her closet, mindlessly reaching for a sweater and tights to wear. She dropped them on the edge of her bed and looked over her desk for a moment, eyeing at her phone. She had received a text earlier from Erik - but it's been taking her a while to get ready. Ryder was probably already outside, in her living room, speaking with her mother. Before she could even respond to Erik about not going, Ryder had texted that he'd take her to rehearsals. He probably got the text through Richie-

Her teeth found her way to her bottom lip and bit down at it furiously. Her eyes began to stung again. Every time the name entered her mind she just couldn't take it. She felt like her insides were going inside out. Her hands balled into fists as her eyes traveled towards a photograph lying on the floor.

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It was her favorite photo of her and Ri- her best friend. She usually had it by her bed side table, but she threw a fit last night. Crying and sobbing and thrashing things around. The photograph ended up crashing on the floor, slipping out of its picture frame. It made her sob even harder last night. She curled up beside it and sobbed until she could barely breathe that she quite literally passed out beside it. It was horrible. She felt like falling into that abyss once again, but no. Ryder was already outside and she had to leave. She was desperately clinging onto her best friend's twin brother and honestly, she didn't know she would have ever gotten through anything without him.

Blinking the tears out of her eyes, she quickly jumps into the large sweater and pulls the tights over her skinny legs. She slipped into boots and she was out of her room in a flash, not wanting to look back at anything. She quickly walks down the stairs, tears still n her eyes. She passes through the living room quickly, already heading for the door. Her tone was matter-of-fact and ignorant, "I'm not hungry. Have to leave now, bye mom. Let's go Ryder."

She crossed her arms over her chest as she braved the cold to get into Ryder's car. She quickly hops into it shotgun and slams the door indifferently, waiting for Ryder to hop in next to her. As they drove to the school, she sat in her seat quietly, breathing deeply - obviously trying her hardest not to begin sobbing. Her breathing was shaky and tears kept falling from her eyes silently. She ignored most conversations, except from the casual 'yes' and 'no' answers.

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Once they made it to the school, she still didn't talk. Ryder didn't leave her, which she was silently grateful for. As she stood in front of the large doors, obviously very late to the rehearsal call, she found herself unable to enter. She felt her lip tremble as her hand touched the cold metal door handle. She pressed them together tightly only to separate them soon after in a shaky breath. Tears welled up in her eyes again, already rolling down her cheeks. She shook her head and closed her eyes tight, as she gripped the door handle tightly. Whimpering escaped her before words finally came out of her chapped lips, "I-I c-can't do it…! I don't want to go!" the tone in her voice was no longer blunt and indifferent. It was shaking and pitchy. It was broken.

 

Dennis Baker:
[---Day 8(2/4)---December 28th---Location: Hospital--->Home Mood: Surprised/Annoyed/Scared ---Ooc: N/A]

He awoke in the hospital like he would in his own home. Granted he was kind of confused as to where he was , until he recalled the other night's events. He was still kind of in terror of the nightmares he was having over the night and still didn't really feel like moving anywhere. He wasn't ready to face the world yet, it was still far too frightening for him to face. Well at least he thought it was until something else perked his senses up. He heard the sound of rolling wheels, but it was probably just a bed being moved somewhere. The sound got closer and he was positive he heard someone yelling. 'It couldn't be? No there's no way.' Then the noise finally rolled into his room and his worst suspicions were confirmed. "Yo Little Baker Bro!"

Oh great. "Hello Evan," he sighed at the sight of the extremely cheery and bright fellow. While most people would think the two of them would get along really well due to their usual lighthearted personalities, Dennis wasn't too fond of Evan. There was just something about the stupidly carefree man that got under his skin. "What're you doing here?"

Evan was about to answer when a nurse barged into the room. She started berating him for having little to no consideration for the hospital, because he had literally just rollerbladed through a hospital. He had a stupid little grin on him as he just sort of took it and was like, "yo, yo, sorry there doc lady, ma'am, sir, person. I'm just gonna sign the little bro out now." She looked at him quizzically in which he then casually pointed out that he was an emergency contact, which was true. Disgruntled the nurse left him after he reluctantly took off his rollerblades. "So anyway, I'm here 'cause JayJay was informed that you were sent to the hospital and wanted me to pull you out." Figures. The only reason that Evan was a friend to the Baker family was because he and Jason were really close friends.

While Evan was busy signing Dennis out, Dennis started getting dressed in his clothes from the day of the tragedy and noticed something about the picture he had gotten from Zoey. It had, what he assumed to be, her cellphone number and a note saying to call her if he needed anything. He put the number in his phone and saved it under his contacts just as Evan burst in the room and dragged him out. They were about to leave the hospital when suddenly Dennis planted his feet and just stopped. He did not want to go outside. Dennis just started panicking all over the place making a large scene that lasted roughly 20 minutes, involved multiple people asking Evan question like he was a kidnapper, Evan using the metaphor "life is like a box of chocolates. Sometimes it's delicious and other times it can just suck," and utilising Dennis's confusion until Evan was finally able to drag him into his car.

Once inside there Dennis started hyperventilating and Evan made a little upset face. He was only driving because he needed to take someone with him, otherwise he wouldn't have set foot in the car. That and he was parked in a handicap spot and already had 3 unpaid tickets so he figured the less the better. Dennis was panicking not only because he thought anything and everything could kill him, but also because Evan had to be one of the worst drivers he knew. Evan had only driven Dennis around twice before and managed to nearly get themselves killed 7 times. So on the entire car ride home Dennis was screaming and panicking, Evan was disgruntled and the car managed not to be totalled.

Once they got back to Dennis's apartment Evan lead him up the stairs and opened the door for him. He basically had to lead the way and forcibly drag Dennis along. Once they were inside Dennis just kind of fell onto his sofa, wanting nothing more than to be alone now. "So Evan, thanks an all for nearly killing us twice in that car of yours but could you just leave me now?"

Evan was busy strapping on his rollerblades that he carried up with him and rolled around the place. "No prob little BB. Remember to shoot me a texty if ya need to take a load off and get some dark things off your beating chest."

Dennis was looking at Evan and then realized something that didn't make sense. He rollerbladed into the hospital. He drove them home. "Wait, did you actually get out of the car and put on your-"

"Be seeing ya Little BB." Before Dennis could finish his thought Evan back flipped out of the window of Dennis's apartment...on the third floor. Fully wishing to land in a hay bale,(but figuring landing in dumpsters was just fine,) he climbed out of the dumpster and started rolling his way down town,staring at the clouds.

 

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⟣ DATE⁞ Monday, December 28th, 2015 ⟡ DAY⁞ 8 2/4 ⟡ ♫ ⟢​

⟣ LOCATION⁞ Auditorium ⟡ INTERACTION⁞ Elisa ⟢​

⟣ WEARING ⟡ OOC⁞ ✖ ⟢​

It had been a rough couple of days. Breaking the news to his mother was torture and it didn't help that Elisa had been crying on his shoulder the entire time. He couldn't tell his sister. Ryder left it for his mother to do. He was annoyed more than anything. Richie was dead, his family was in an uproar, and Elisa could barely even function. He had to help her with everything. She and Richie had always been really dependent and clingy with one another which bothered him. Now that Richie was gone, she had latched onto Ryder as if he might fill the void. He knew what was going on, even if he didn't say anything. They were twins. They looked alike, save for the eyes. He wouldn't be able to fill Richie's place in Elisa's heart, nor did he want to. She was too needy, but now wasn't the time to get on her case about it.

She stayed at his house through the weekend. He let her wear his clothes to sleep in and forced her to eat--she wouldn't have otherwise. Ryder remembered how scrawny Elisa was when she and Richie had first started hanging out. He had a feeling that she might have had an eating disorder, but never questioned it. You couldn't just ask a girl that.

This morning, he dropped her off at home to shower and get clean clothes. Elisa had received a text from Professor Winst. There was some sort of emergency mandatory rehearsal going on. He wondered if it was about what happened, but didn't ask. Ryder just remained quiet. His mom told him that they were supposed to get the toxicology results back today. The investigator in charge of the Bennett case would call and inform them of what was found ( or not found ) inside those that had died. He stood in Elisa's kitchen talking to her mom, but his responses were monosyllable at best. Most of the time it was just a grunt or a head nod. After what seemed like forever, she came bolting down the stairs. "I'm not hungry. Have to leave now, bye mom. Let's go Ryder." She sounded as if she were trying to cover up the pain, but he knew better.

He sighed and followed her out to his car. She was already inside and belted, ready to go. Ryder climbed in after her and started the engine. The drive was quiet. He didn't even bother to turn on the radio. After some time, they arrived at the University and he parked the car. They were already late. Ryder wanted to just drop Elisa off and leave, but that didn't seem like it was going to be an option. She clung to him the moment he stepped out of the car. They braved the cold and crossed the way until they reached the PAC. It was warmer inside.

They stood in front of the shut auditorium doors. Ryder had reached out to open them, but then stopped when noticing the look on her face. She looked, terrified. "I-I c-can't do it…! I don't want to go!" Elisa was crying again and her voice sounded shaky. She was a mess and it twisted his insides. People weren't supposed to feel this way.

Ryder sighed and reached out for her, pulling her into his arms and burying her face in his shoulder. He held her close and stroked the messy blue hair on her head. His chin rested atop the crown of blue and he stood there silently holding her for a few minutes. She felt so small in his arms. He clicked his jaw and sighed, not letting her go. "Elisa, you have to--we have to go inside. You have to face everyone eventually. They're all probably hurting as well. And the rehearsal is mandatory. Whatever is going on inside is probably important." He didn't really want to go in either, but he spoke the truth. Elisa wouldn't have gotten that text had it not been important. "Come on," he whispered before pulling away from her and quietly opening the auditorium door.

He didn't let go of her hand, but it was the only thing he held onto. Ryder led her inside, staying close, and down to the first couple rows of seats. Erik was looking up at them and a frown crossed his face. "Elisa, Ri--er, uh Ryder, thanks for joining us." He didn't sound mad, just tired. Ryder nodded and sat down, making room for Elisa to sit next to him.

 

ஐ ...Days go on forever, but I have not left your side...ஐ​

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ʑoey Ⓐmber Ӄline​

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More people were filing in. No one said anything about her little speech. Maybe no one really paid attention to it. She sighed out, slouching in her seat once more. It was so hard not to dwell on the brooding thoughts of Alex's death. Blood... blood everywhere.

She shut her eyes, taking in a shaky breath. She felt pretty much alone in this small crowd. Alex was so easy to approach. Everyone else? She couldn't blame them. They were wrapped up in their own shells after all. This was painful, and it was an indescribable pain. Maybe they wouldn't go on with the show after all, despite what she said. Just because the ones who were dead or injured wanted the living and almost well off people to keep going, it didn't mean that they had the strength to do it.

Zoey wanted to leave rehearsals. She clutched her bag tightly to her chest, not making eye contact with anyone or paying attention to everyone around her. No. She was going to keep silent. She wasn't going to reach out. What was the point.



She was no better than they were. She was starting to form a shell around herself as well, fall into silence. Maybe it was just for the best she stayed in the background of things. Like she always had done.

ஐ...We can chase the dark together; if you go, then so will I...ஐ​

 

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✿ OUTFIT| MUSIC | OOC |MOOD ↝ HELL✿​

✖ LOCATION ↝ SCHOOL ✖​

She sobbed into his shoulder, shaking terribly and making the most horrid noises as he stoked her hair. She was probably a brat wasn't she? Being so indifferent and just broken and helpless. It was probably really pathetic how much she clung onto Ryder and honestly she didn't even know why. She was just feeling so lost and depressed and broken. She didn't exactly know if she wanted to be alone or not because being alone or with someone was no different. She didn't ignore the sadness, rather, she couldn't. It was like the depression had a death grip on her. Gripping her so tightly she was about to explode inside and spill all her guts onto the ground and tainting the white snow with red. It squeezed the tears out of her eyes constantly and caused the familiar loss of her apetite.

"Elisa, you have to--we have to go inside. You have to face everyone eventually. They're all probably hurting as well. And the rehearsal is mandatory. Whatever is going on inside is probably important."

He was right, but she didn't want him to be and with a sudden pull towards the door and a stern "Come on,", they entered the theatre. Oh how she didn't want to be there. She stared down at her black shoes as she followed after Ryder, feeling the warmth of his hand squeezing her own - but it wasn't exactly comforting. Nothing was.

She almost bumped into Ryder as they came to a stop, and her tearful eyes studied the ground before her: three pairs of shoes, three shadows. Her vision was blurred but she could tell the new pair of shoes and jeans belonged to a man's and she had a small hunch on who it was.

"Elisa, Ri--er, uh Ryder, thanks for joining us."

She was right. She couldn't mistake that voice. He had almost said his name, which caused her to bite down hard on her trembling lower lip. She couldn't look up at Erik. She noticed Ryder take a seat and so she sat down next to him, still keeping her head low and eyes locked onto the ground. Erik was still close by but she just couldn't greet him or acknowledge his presence. She suddenly remembered the night before the incident, when Erik and Bryan brought her and Richie up to a room. She remembers Erik carrying her all the way and being very gentle and kind to her (although not kind enough because he left without cuddles) but then she began to remember that Richie had gone in her bed and snuggled with her for a while.

Five minutes. Five minutes that she later complained about and even got pissed off at because they didn't cuddle long enough. God she felt like her insides were going to burst. The last thought of her with her best friend was one of anger. She must have been such a horrible person. Her heart began to ache and her stomach turned and grumbled. It was like her organs were getting mad at her too. Her hands balled into fists that were digging onto her thighs. She could feel her nails piercing the skin on her palms. Her vision had gone even worse and she knew she was crying again. She bit down at her lip harder, so hard it turned white. Oh the things she would do to take those five minutes back.

 

Aidan Samarost returned home the previous night. The alarm went off and he woke up as he did every day. He pushed the bedclothes off and got dressed. Mum and Dad hadn't asked questions, though he knew they were going to. Probably before he left. He ate his breakfast sullenly. He couldn't stop thinking about it. They were there, just, dead. There before his eyes and then there was her. His only friend. Dead. Why was Seraphina killed? She was a bit rude sometimes, but she didn't deserve to die. What made her kill herself? Why would anyone drive her to the edge like that? He stopped thinking about it. He walked into the living room and sat down. Mum and Dad came down and sat opposite him.
"Aidan, what happened?" Delilah asked. Aidan looked down.
"I- I don't know. I was talking to Seraphina, then she went off. I got a bottle of wine, walked off into the garden. Drank, fell asleep. Woke up in the morning." Aidan answered. "Then... They were there. The sound of sirens and the police and then the bodies in the living room."
"Are you sure Aidan?" James asked, concerned.
"Yeah, I am."
"One of the people who died was called Seraphina. Was that your friend?" His mother asked.
"Yes." Aidan whispered, tearing up from the memory. "Only friend. Gone. Life snuffed out just like that. I just... I don't even know what happened." He felt his parents come sit beside him and put their arms around him. He embraced them and buried his head in his father's shoulder. He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted to move on. He knew nothing other than he saw them at one point alive, and dead not a day later. Eventually, they released him.
"Can you please not ask? I just... I just want to move on." Aidan requested.
"Okay." His mother replied, speaking for the two of them.
"Right, I'd best be off." Aidan said smiling. He wasn't really happy. He just tried to give the impression he was alright. Aidan grabbed his keys and phone and left the house, returning to the cafe where he met Seraphina all that time ago. It wasn't actually bad. He had signed up to do another play and apparently this rehearsal was kind of important. So he'd turn up.

Aidan pushed the doors of the auditorium open walking in.
"Sorry I'm late. At least I think I'm late." Aidan said generally, taking a seat.

 

Frederick "Freddie" Anderson
DAY: 8 - 3/4 | DATE: December 28th, 2015 | LOCATION: Home

Freddie, with nothing much to do during the winter break, decided to do something that he hadn't done in over six months. Clean his room. There was so much junk piled up in his room that you could barely see the floor. The only part of his room that was even remotely clean looking was the area around his prized guitar. Papers, books, pencils, pens, notebooks, as well as some dirty clothes lay strewn about his room. However, before he began cleaning his room, he made breakfast.

After eating his simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage, he trudged back up into his room and began to sort things out. First, he had to pick up all of the clothes that lay about his room and put them into a laundry basket. This didn't take too long, since not that many articles of clothing lay around. After getting all of the dirty clothing, he started picking up the books and papers that littered his room. He had to dust off a couple of the books since they had been laying there for God knows how long. Next, he picked up all of the other things that were haphazardly thrown all around his room. While he picked things up, he stumbled upon a pizza crust that was underneath his bed. Whoa, when did I have pizza in my room? Freddie honestly couldn't remember when he had it, but it had to be at least a couple of months.

Now that he had all of that finished, his room began to look cleaner. But the floor was still filthy. He grabbed his vacuum and started having at it. Since his room was small, relatively small, it didn't take him too long to finish vacuuming all over. He stuffed the vacuum back in his closet, when he noticed a box he had placed in the corner of his closet. Huh, what's this? He pulled it out and dusted it off, coughing a little as the dust flew up. Freddie pulled the lid off of the formerly white box and started digging around in it. It was a bunch of old things from when he was a kid. Some toys, a couple of pictures, and some letters. That's funny, he didn't remember seeing those letters.

He pulled one of them out and tried to read it. The words were written so sloppily and crookedly that he had a difficult time deciphering what it said. Oh wow, did somebody send these to me? Well, it was cute to say the least. Based on what it said, it was a little girl. He tried to read the name that was at the end of the letter. Z.... o.... e....y. Zoey. Freddie looked through the box some more and found a picture of when he was a little boy. By his side, there was a little, baby girl by his side. After seeing these he thought outloud, "That's right... I have a baby sister... that I haven't seen since..." His voice trailed off as he remembered his childhood.

 

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Jonathan was easily starting to see exactly why Julius found this task so important and though Jonathan had been informed, he didn't expect it to really be this depressing. Regardless, Jonathan was happy to the Erik guy had been able to keep things under control so far. "Ah! then that makes my job a whole lot more easier" Jonathan said as stared out at the others calmly and placed his hands in his jacket pockets "Well then...lets continue with business...dunno whats been said already so I'll just send over the message from Julius" Jonathan said closing his eyes.

"First of all, Julius was considering shutting down the whole entire play in general, but he found that decision to be rash and obviously such a decision shouldn't be made by himself. For now Julius said he will be dealing with the technicalities while at the hospital. His wounds are not pretty in the slightest and I do fear for the idiot" Jonathan said before letting out a sigh. Opening his eyes calmly he stared out at the others once more "Like what was said...it up to you guys if you want to be in this play or not, do not feel like your obligated to stay because Julius doesn't want you guys doing something your uncomfortable doing..." Jonathan said before crossing his arms.

"If we do start the play we will be replacing the....um...er...open roles and continue on with me leading the play...May not be as loud as Julius but I will try my best to get this show on the road...yes...I will make this show as fabulous as ever and people will grovel at our feet in order to get us to preform such a magnificent performance!" Jonathan said clenching his fist with a smile as he stared up at the ceiling in pure admiration to his own goal. When the thought about how serious it was around here he immediately looked down and coughed into his fist "...so...yeah...your choice..." Jonathan said before sending a grin towards Zoey "We already got some good opinions so far so lets keep it up" Jonathan said happily

 

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Maria slouched down in her seat and pulled the hat down as low as it would go. The sunglasses were snug against her face and she kept the collar of her poncho up. She still wasn't even sure what the hell had happened, other than the fact that it was Stephan's fault. Now, listening to what might happen to the musical, she felt even worse. She couldn't perform like this, but the idea of just giving up on the performance all together was disappointing. Maria didn't have a particular attachment to those that died, but she still felt terrible. Everything was terrible about this weekend. Her hand raised to the bump on her forehead and winced as her fingers grazed over the lump.

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She paid little attention to the latecomers. Maria listened to Zoey's little speech and nodded along as the others entered the auditorium and apologized for being tardy. Stupid. She was acutely aware of Tucker entering, but she didn't look back at him. Her eyes were vacantly fixed on the stage. There was no one on it, which was the point. She couldn't look at the others, in fear of them seeing her disfigurement. Right now wasn't the time to think about what happened last night. She was filled with enough anxiety over whether or not she would attacked again to deal with at the moment. Maria rotated her gaze at the sound of Jonathan beginning to speak.

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❝ Like what was said...it up to you guys if you want to be in this play or not, do not feel like your obligated to stay because Julius doesn't want you guys doing something your uncomfortable doing... ❞ Jonathan said before crossing his arms.

She wasn't all that uncomfortable, it was just a matter of being so unsightly. Maria tugged on the hat.

❝ If we do start the play we will be replacing the....um...er...open roles and continue on with me leading the play...May not be as loud as Julius but I will try my best to get this show on the road...yes...I will make this show as fabulous as ever and people will grovel at our feet in order to get us to preform such a magnificent performance! ❞ Jonathan said clenching his fist with a smile. She watched as he glanced up at the ceiling and then coughed into his fist. ❝ ...so...yeah...your choice... We already got some good opinions so far so lets keep it up, ❞ he continued happily.

Maria sat up in her seat and raised her hand like a child. She felt ridiculous doing so, but standing up seemed like a bad idea with her limp. She wasn't even sure if she could stand straight. She cleared her throat and twirled anxiously on the end of a lock of hair. ❝ I just wanted to say, that I uh... would like to continue. I would like to keep the musical going with those of you that are willing to join. ❞ She forced a meek smile and dropped her hand into her lap. Her blue-eyed gaze dropped to her fingertips and the sunglasses slipped down the bridge of her nose. She pushed them back up her face and returned to slouching down low in the chair.

✜ Wearing❖ Music ❖ Date: 12/28/2015 ❖ Day: 8 & 3/4 ✜​

✜ Mood: Melancholy ❖ Interaction: ✘ ❖ Location: Auditorium ✜​

✜ ❤: Tucker ❖ Activity: ✘ ❖ OOC: ✘ ✜​

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Torvald cleared his throat, and adjusted his tie.
He paid the cabbie a tip and bid him farewell as he drove off.
He turned to the opulent residence, but tonight it felt like more of a ghostlike cage than an elegant mansion.

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<< IGNITE REVOLUTION >>​

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Torvald violently kicked the front door open, and to his surprise it flew inward without a spark of resistance. He paused, but did not let this deter him, so he slipped into the main hallway with the elegance of an enormous ghost.
But what-- what was this? What was-- this was terrible! He looked around, and realized how much of a mess the house was left in. The gaudiness was strewn all over the floor like a hundred bloodstains from the slaughterhouses of infinite revolutions. Vases lie broken, paintings ajar, busts cast away from their insolent and arrogant pillars rolled to the side where their lips touched the dusty wooden floors. The carpet rolled and curled in places, and dust seemed to line the floor everywhere.

<<INSOLENT PHILISTINES!>> Torvald yelled out, his face emotionless and deeply searching for any sign of Lucas. <<NOT ENOUGH THAT THE DISGUSTING AUTHORITY PRODUCTS OF BOURGEOIS POWER-VIOLENCE RULE LEFT THE REMAINS OF THE ARISTOCRACY IN SHAMBLES. I WOULD DANCE IF I WERE NOT TO THINK WHY SOMEONE SUCH AS YOU, LUCAS, HAD NOT CLEANED UP YOUR CASTLE YET.>>

He emphasized the name of the worker, for he needed to make sure he heard. He needed his medical kit, if it would cause his life.

Off by one of the home's many lounges, the velvet furniture lay off by one side of the room, moved with scrapes upon the ground, and two of the coffee tables lay dead on the ground. More kitschy garbage was scattered around the floor. A radio lay on the last standing table.

This-- this was almost disturbing.

<<LUCAS, WORKING CLASS PEON OF THE BOURGEOIS! I AM WELL AWARE, BY THE HUNDRED FIGHTING STARS THAT EXIST TO FUEL THE ENDLESS REVOLUTION, YOU KNOW SOMETHING OF THE CHILDREN WHO LOST THEIR LIVES IN THE WAR!>> He walked through the room, looking around and kicking away the broken vase pieces on the floor. <<DO NOT BE IGNORANT TO THhh-->> Ack!

Torvald choked, tripping on one of the broken busts, sending him flying face first to the ground, his arms splayed around violently like a spider. The final coffee table tripped over and the radio fell to the ground with a thud, turning it on.

Immediately, strange music began blasting through the ruinous house at high volume.

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Torvald hurriedly grasped at the dusty wooden floor and rose himself up. His brown blazer was left strewn across the floor, leaving him only in his white dress shirt and simple red tie. But this wasn't the time for caring about simple materialistic products of a failed capitalist system! This house was out to get him! This product of unsound money, and ridiculous gains that ignored and oppressed the beautiful positivity of the working class! He clenched his teeth and balled his fists, kicking away one of the fallen vases and sending it rolling into the ashen firespace.

<<LUCAS!!>> bellowed Torvald, over the music.
<<ALL I ASK IS FOR MY MEDICAL KIT AND THE TRUTH OF YOUR REGRETFUL EXISTENCE! I DEMAND ANSWERS! NO REVOLUTION CAN SURVIVE UPON FALSITIES, AND THE PROGRESSION OF MY-->> He momentarily paused himself. <<THESE DEAR CHILDREN WILL NEVER CONTINUE IF WE CONTINUE TO HIDE BEHIND MASKS!!>>

He ran out of the room, leaving his blazer behind, a bright blue spark flickering in his cold eyes. He moved with the stealth of a jet, precise, accurate, looking through each and every room of this corpse-home symbol of the fallen aristocracy; a look into the future.

He moved past another hallway, this one eerily empty. The windows outside gave view to the pool, but Torvald's heart lurched at the very thought of having to think about Richie. He couldn't even bear himself to look to the left, where the pool lay, and face the finalities of realizing that he never could save him after all.

And when he stopped in front of the library, his breathing grew soft.
There he stood, his prey, and the end of his magnanimous revolution within this maze.
Torvald let out a menacing scowl.

He brought a bony hand to his collar. He undid his tie, and let it fall to the floor with an ethereal drop.

The passionate music continued to play from off in the other room, but it didn't seem to register with the mind of someone who needed to destroy the enemy.​

<< CEASE REVOLUTION >>​

 

T H E • T R O U B L E S O M E • R E V O L U T I O N
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There had been no traces of SOPHIE for some time, though I suppose that in the situation, she needed time away from the home. I had mine yesterday, and I feel quite better. I find no point in mulling in sorrow over what was purely unexpected. Many would argue otherwise.

FATIME is a complete wreck, and has ordered me to leave her alone. I have done so, but do not see what there is to be so strewn out over. Of course, my sister and I are quite different, yet very the same. She does regret certain actions where I do not.

I sit in the library reading a history on communism while juggling ANIMAL FARM and a book on socialist states in the modern age. These subjects were usually of no interest to me, for I do not favor political structures and figures of any sort, but as of recent . . . Well, suffice to say, something has sparked my full attention for it.

There is a loud noise, and I look from the large window I am standing in front of to the door that leads to the hallway. An intruder? Perhaps SOPHIE has returned, and is in a sour mood. Shouting abounds . . . Such an annoyance. Normally, it would be my sole absorption to investigate, but at the moment, I simply find myself too busy to care. No doubt, there will be such a mess to clean.

A few more moments of brazened bedlam later, and I discover that I recognize the voice. Male. Hearty. Strong. REVOLUTIONARY, even. Yes, the voice can only be that of one person. It seemed he was looking for me. Well, why not, I suppose. I am the only person home.

Ah, yes. COMRADE's medical kit. What a silly person he is, forgetting about it twice. I look to my side, and there it sits. I bring it with me about the house, and it was just for this occasion. Just as flies to honey. There will most absolutely be a mess to clean. He is quite the klutz.

More commotion later, I have discovered that he is here to confront me of the death of those four teenagers. Mmm, yes, quite unfortunate. Does he think he will get a confession out of me? I suppose it's not something one lies about, but I have no intention of telling him the truth. Abrubtly, his babbling is cut short, and another crash sounds, this time accompanied by . . .​

​

Very loud music, I might add. Yes, REVOLUTIONIST, set the mood. Silly boy.

Yet, his voice still somehow carries over the noise. He is still asking me to confess.

The steps of the stampede rang loud and clear. The double doors flew opened, and there he was.

​

❝I see you have completely destroyed the house, Tannhauser.❞ Lucas told him calmly, a smile on his face. The music continued to play, but it didn't seem to register in the mind of someone who needed to console the beast. ❝Honestly, are you prepared to clash in a place where knowledge is endless?❞ Lucas asked, largely, passionately motioning with an arm to the endless amount of books that adorned the room. The glint of the sun from the window behind him shone on the lenses of his glasses, making them flash at the other young man as he tilted his head.

❝Perhaps we should take our struggle for clarity elsewhere.❞

The book in Lucas' hand closed with a loud CLAP and he spun on his heel open the window-doors of the library and began to walk out, removing his black blazer and loosening his dark teal tie all the while. The beast followed him. The wind ruffled his dark hair as he removed his glasses.

❝Speak, you overzealous tiger, and state your reasons as to destroying my home, and confronting me with such passion.❞

The only way for the hunter to assuage his prey were it irritated was to stop poking it and move as far away from it as possible. Lucas was not that sort of hunter, though. He was far more daring.

❝You wish to know of the final fates of those four children?❞ he asked, rolling up his sleeves, ❝You must first earn the right. Express your reasons.❞​

 

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<< IGNITE REVOLUTION >>​

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Torvald followed the gaze of his prey as he cunningly closed his book and walked outside without a care in the world. Who was this man, in truth? A bastard son of the darkest wretches of society's inequalities? His very existence was slowly making Torvald's blood boil, but he came here for a reason, and he refused to leave without getting answers to the truth of the revolution this man planned to ignite.​

​

As he watched Lucas strut calmly out of the library, he took one of the letter openers upon some of the books off at the side and hid it in his back pants pocket, before following the man out of the library. If he was the tiger, the working wretch moved with the cunning secrecy of a black panther. Outside, the sun was cold, and the wind was rough. Torvald's open collar blustered in the breeze, and his locks of blonde hair flew about carelessly. He set his gaze straight into Lucas' frozen, unfeeling eyes; the eyes of--​

​

Of-- well-- ah.​

​

That was it. Torvald narrowed his eyes.​

How many times had he seen that look before. The look of men who had no regrets to their actions. How very much he hated the subhuman scum. How bloody rotten pieces of human-flesh these people were, having to go off in the hellish desert and--​

​

Ah.​

​

Torvald caught himself, straightening. The wind blew gently, but eerily so. Much of the outside was well-cut grass, dotted by a few garden meadows here and there. The purples, blues, and yellows of the flowers bled sunlight, and all stood at attention towards the sun itself like the greatest soldiers in a revolution. Torvald could not ask for better weather, because he knew well enough how to deal with people like him.​

​

So for this very instance, he decided to change his own mask. With a calm voice, almost a whisper on the wind itself, he replied to Lucas.​

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<< I wish to ignite the revolution. >>​

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<< CEASE REVOLUTION >>​

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Torvald cleared his throat.His face suddenly seemed less tense, and the edge of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. ​

"So you concede that it was you who killed them so easily, dog of the Bennetts? Now, now--" His voice was cold and hardened, and bore almost no trace of his passionate speeches. Torvald stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked away a few strands of grass. The wind continued to whip around the two men, who still stood a good distance apart. "I expected more of a challenge from someone who seemed to disregard human life so-- so disgustingly." That last word, it was tinged with the taste of bitter melancholy. Torvald briefly looked at a patch of daisies, before turning back to face Lucas.​

"I've seen that light in your eyes before. I've seen your books, peon. Whenever I talked through my speeches of revolution, whenever, whenever. Care to know what my revolution is about? It is a revolution, oh-- it is a revolution of justice."​

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T H E • T R O U B L E S O M E • R E V O L U T I O N
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❝I wish to ignite the revolution.❞

TORVALD cleared his throat, and it seemed he was concealing a smile or frown of some sort.

❝So you concede the it was you who killed them so easily, dog of the Bennettes?❞

The atmosphere had now settled, and the fire had turned ice blue. Lucas quietly listened to the speech that was confronting him while completely ignoring the cold air about themselves. Describing Lucas as a dog was actually quite degrading; it was, perhaps, the worst insult one could bestow upon him, and he completely took it in stride.

❝A revolution of justice , you say?❞ Lucas began, looking up into the gray sky. ❝You believe that marching into a man's home, uninvited, smashing that which he has worked so strenuously to earn, confronting him with truths that do not apply to his self, his person, or his being that ever was justice?❞

He began to freely walk about the area, taking interest in his visible breath in front of him. ❝You say you have seen the light of my eyes before, but that is a lie; I am that of which you have never seen the likes of. And neither are you.❞​

​

It seemed that it had begun to snow. As cold as the weather was, I am unable to force myself to feel it. I am too far into this young man who has so carelessly confronted me with half-truths and a corrupted sense of the REVOLUTION. He knows not my struggles. The disregard of human life . . . It is not without consequences to the self.

As far as I'm concerned, I have not disregarded their lives. I have simply moved on with a much more fleeting pace than others would.

❝What do you know of looks, of dogs, of anything that surrounds me?❞ I ask him, taking steps forward. It is difficult for me to ever accept that someone can see me, look at me, and simply . . . know. They do not know. They will never know.

I smile. ❝As I have said before, Tannhauser, what happened to those four children is completely beyond me. I am not a murderer; you will find no bodies in my dwelling. Until I receive official autopsy reports, which I will have in hand soon enough, then I can make a final judgment on what to make of the situation.❞ I explain to him, moving even closer still.

​

The distance that was once between the two young men, who were both fierce beasts in their own being, was eventually closed. Lucas couldn't refrain from noting that they were similar in height, so their eyes bore into each other's, ready to pounce into the attack.

❝Interesting, isn't it?❞ Lucas eventually said, and then moved around TORVALD, bringing the other boy back into the house. They would probably both end up sick, at this rate.

With all pretenses of the attack dropped, Lucas duly retrieved the medical kit that TORVALD was so completely attached to and began to head to the kitchen. On their way, he inspected all of the damage caused by the other, and forced himself to not be angry. Simple to clean, yes, but to retrieve . . .

❝Tannhauser, have you eaten yet?❞ Lucas asked, fully knowing the ramifications of his question. Panthers and tigers were far more rabid on empty stomachs, but well-fed, perhaps there would be more of an understanding between the ferocious.​

 

Dennis Baker:
[---Day 8(4/4)---December 28th---Location: Home Mood: Whatever ---Ooc: Ending Day now since I can't later]

Dennis literally just sat on his couch for the rest of the day. Every now and then he would walk his way to the door in an attempt to go outside and go to school,(to get his bike that he's left there for the past 4 days,) but every time he would start to tremble and just walk back to his couch. Television didn't help him. Video games definitely weren't helping him. All he could do was cycle through music, but even to that he didn't listen to. He just sat there. With nothing left to do for the day, and unable to bring himself to go anywhere, Dennis just slept.

EvanAllenWalker:
{~~~Day8(4/4)~~~December28th, 2015, Monday~~~Location:The Streets***Home~~~Mood:Groovin~~~Music~~~Ooc:N/A~~~}

Not a single thing could bring this man down. He was flying free so to speak. While he was rollerblading through the town he felt so alive and so detached from the world. When he can to a downhill incline he simply jumped and pulled off 3 360 degree rotations due to the added height of going downhill. However because of this decline he ended up landing rather awkwardly, falling, and pushing himself back up onto balance with his hand without a scratch to be had, (save for his scraped and slightly bleeding hand.)

He eventually stopped in a park and gazed at the clouds, taking note of what they all looked like. One looked like an apple, one looked like a dog, one looked like an F15 fighter jet, and one looked like a gira- a word that shouldn't ever be mentioned.Staring angrily at the cloud that looked like the unmentionable word, he stopped his cloud gazing and started rollerblading through town again. However he noticed that his body was having a hard time holding him up for some reason. Because Evan couldn't really feel the soreness in his legs, he never really had a clear stopping point until his body physically could go no longer. Taking note of this development in his legs he started his way home.

While he would've loved to just be able to enter his room by jumping into it, that was,unfortunately, impossible for this man. Taking off his rollerblades he started walking up the stairs to realize his legs did their little trembling thing. They were trembling because they were so sore, but Evan couldn't really understand that and just awkwardly continued walking. He finally got into his house and noticed his hand was all red and scratched. While he didn't really care about it, he had been berated many times for leaving a wound open. As such he walked over to his cabinet and pulled out some gauze tape, wrapped it around his hand, and from the same cabinet took out another one of his gong clocks. He had a whole army of these little things seeing as he broke them every time he woke up. Setting it up he fell back into his bed and pulled out, from underneath the bed, a bag of beef jerky which would serve as his dinner. He continued to think about the day and how fun it was, (completely forgetting he even dragged Dennis out of the hospital and left his car at Dennis's apartment building.) With nothing left to do he simply fell asleep in his bed, beef jerky still in hand.