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Post by lazy penguin on Jan 2, 2018 18:03:54 GMT -5
(I also just joined, but all my characters are available too. I'll try to get starters up later tonight.)
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Bisexual
Lea
Follow me to Sawgrassclan
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Post by Lea on Jan 2, 2018 19:25:08 GMT -5
Early in the morning, the gym in downtown Arthur, North Carolina, was rather dead. There were a few people, a handful of nine to fivers working at the elliptical or a treadmill. There was maybe two people working weights and then there were those few who looked like they had spent the night there, covered in sweat, heavy bags under their eyes, and they were almost zombie-like walking the indoor track. It was even quiet within the gym, besides the sound of machines going. There were televisions on the walls, but they were silent and had subtitles. If anyone was listening to anything, they were using headphones. This was probably the best time to be up in the gym. Which is why, if you were to look, you would fine Addison Dakota Moreau here.
The young man was in a tight fitting white tank top and basketball shorts. He wore beat up sneakers, and he had headphones stuck in his ears. Addison was jogging the indoor track, sweat dripping down his forehead. The watch on his wrist ready 4:30 a.m. Most people of Arthur, North Carolina, were still in bed, hours away from getting up and ready to go to work or school. Addison, on the other hand, was always up by three in the morning and always at the gym by four. It was easy, especially since he was in bed by ten. That still was even too late, so it was hard to believe that he still managed to be productive with such limited sleep, but the teenager was lucky. Some how, he had inherited the ability to be always moving - like a shark. The only thing he knew that he shared with his birth parents - that and the color of his skin.
Addison slowed to a walk, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He checked his watch, a habit of his even though he had only been at the gym long enough for a warm up. He dropped his hand and walked across the gym toward the weights, Kendrick Lamar's HUMBLE. playing in his ears. This was his usual routine, even during the summer. Wake up, throw on gym clothes, go to the gym, jog around the indoor track for some cardio, and then lift weights until five thirty. Any other day, he'd stay in the gym until maybe eight in the morning. By five thirty, he would be done lifting (for a little while) and you'd find him playing with the other machines, some days running on the treadmill, playing with the elliptical, or jumping some rope. Then back to lifting weights. Breakfast at eight fifteen and then taking summer courses so that he could graduate early - at the rate he was going, he could graduate at sixteen and get into nearly any college he wanted. He was smart, but he had never skipped a grade. He had the credits, but had always insisted on being with those his own age. Of course, this would fade as soon as he was sixteen and going to Princeton or Harvard.
This morning, however, he had to be done by five thirty, so he could run home and shower - he wanted to shower at home for his first day of school, with all the nice smelling soaps he had. Usually, he'd shower here and use what the place had to offer, but he was getting sick of the scentless stuff they had here - they had to make sure none of their customers had allergic reactions so personal soaps were discouraged which Addison found dumb. So, when five thirty rolled around, he stopped his work out, and as he dabbed at his sweat with a towel, he scooped up his duffel bag and left the gym. His home wasn't far from the gym, so he was able to walk. As soon as he returned home, he was upstairs getting ready for the day. Addison was the only Moreau still living at home, so the place was pretty empty in the mornings. He would see his mother in the evening for dinner.
Addison took his time in the shower, spending nearly forty-five minutes under the water. When he was finished, he moisturized, and brushed his teeth (the second time that day). From there, he pulled on the clothes his mother had laid out for him the night before. He was able to dress himself - and pretty well - but it had been a tradition since preschool for Mrs. Moreau to lay out his clothes for the first day of school. He would miss this tradition when he grew up and moved out. That day would come sooner than he wished to image. What his mother had laid out for him had been a pair of black chino cloth trousers, a brown belt, a short sleeve, white button-up shirt, and a nice pair of shoes who's brand Addison didn't have the room in his brain to remember. He dressed quickly and as a final touch, he added a pin to the breast pocket. The pin was two letters, presumably the initial's of his birth father (GH).
Today, he was too nervous for breakfast. As he left the Moreau home, he grabbed a granola bar and a water bottle, along with the paper bagged lunch his mother had made him. He shoved the lunch in his backpack and bit into the granola bar as he stepped out the door. His sister, Sailor, who was still in town from her summer break, was waiting for him - she had been staying with friends the past couple of nights. She was to give him a ride to school. They didn't exchange any words during the duration of the car ride, she knew that he was too stressed about the school year. He was taking college level courses with those of the eleventh grade this year. It was funny how he would be surrounded by these older kids but wasn't a part of their class. One would wonder why he turned down the offer to be moved up a grade. It wasn't like he would be walking with those in his grade or the ones above him. Three more semesters of his life (in high school) and he wouldn't be a student of Camelot High anymore.
Arriving at school, he hugged his sister goodbye, thanked her for the ride, then walked up toward the school. He adjusted the bag over his shoulder and clutched his varsity jacket from freshman year (lucky boy) that he had grabbed before leaving home that morning, and walked up the steps. Passing Teddy and Booker, giving them side eye - yuck, cigarettes - before disappearing into the halls of CHS. He pushed the jacket into the crook of his elbow and pulled out his schedule. It was seven something or other and he was trying to figure out where his first class was. He stopped by his locker, and began trying to get the lock. But he was shaking, and having a hard time getting it open.
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Post by ꮯꮋꮻꮯꮻꮮꭺꭲꭼ • ꮯꭹꭺ🇳ꮖꭰꭼ on Jan 2, 2018 19:57:08 GMT -5
Early in the morning, the gym in downtown Arthur, North Carolina, was rather dead. There were a few people, a handful of nine to fivers working at the elliptical or a treadmill. There was maybe two people working weights and then there were those few who looked like they had spent the night there, covered in sweat, heavy bags under their eyes, and they were almost zombie-like walking the indoor track. It was even quiet within the gym, besides the sound of machines going. There were televisions on the walls, but they were silent and had subtitles. If anyone was listening to anything, they were using headphones. This was probably the best time to be up in the gym. Which is why, if you were to look, you would fine Addison Dakota Moreau here.
The young man was in a tight fitting white tank top and basketball shorts. He wore beat up sneakers, and he had headphones stuck in his ears. Addison was jogging the indoor track, sweat dripping down his forehead. The watch on his wrist ready 4:30 a.m. Most people of Arthur, North Carolina, were still in bed, hours away from getting up and ready to go to work or school. Addison, on the other hand, was always up by three in the morning and always at the gym by four. It was easy, especially since he was in bed by ten. That still was even too late, so it was hard to believe that he still managed to be productive with such limited sleep, but the teenager was lucky. Some how, he had inherited the ability to be always moving - like a shark. The only thing he knew that he shared with his birth parents - that and the color of his skin.
Addison slowed to a walk, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He checked his watch, a habit of his even though he had only been at the gym long enough for a warm up. He dropped his hand and walked across the gym toward the weights, Kendrick Lamar's HUMBLE. playing in his ears. This was his usual routine, even during the summer. Wake up, throw on gym clothes, go to the gym, jog around the indoor track for some cardio, and then lift weights until five thirty. Any other day, he'd stay in the gym until maybe eight in the morning. By five thirty, he would be done lifting (for a little while) and you'd find him playing with the other machines, some days running on the treadmill, playing with the elliptical, or jumping some rope. Then back to lifting weights. Breakfast at eight fifteen and then taking summer courses so that he could graduate early - at the rate he was going, he could graduate at sixteen and get into nearly any college he wanted. He was smart, but he had never skipped a grade. He had the credits, but had always insisted on being with those his own age. Of course, this would fade as soon as he was sixteen and going to Princeton or Harvard.
This morning, however, he had to be done by five thirty, so he could run home and shower - he wanted to shower at home for his first day of school, with all the nice smelling soaps he had. Usually, he'd shower here and use what the place had to offer, but he was getting sick of the scentless stuff they had here - they had to make sure none of their customers had allergic reactions so personal soaps were discouraged which Addison found dumb. So, when five thirty rolled around, he stopped his work out, and as he dabbed at his sweat with a towel, he scooped up his duffel bag and left the gym. His home wasn't far from the gym, so he was able to walk. As soon as he returned home, he was upstairs getting ready for the day. Addison was the only Moreau still living at home, so the place was pretty empty in the mornings. He would see his mother in the evening for dinner.
Addison took his time in the shower, spending nearly forty-five minutes under the water. When he was finished, he moisturized, and brushed his teeth (the second time that day). From there, he pulled on the clothes his mother had laid out for him the night before. He was able to dress himself - and pretty well - but it had been a tradition since preschool for Mrs. Moreau to lay out his clothes for the first day of school. He would miss this tradition when he grew up and moved out. That day would come sooner than he wished to image. What his mother had laid out for him had been a pair of black chino cloth trousers, a brown belt, a short sleeve, white button-up shirt, and a nice pair of shoes who's brand Addison didn't have the room in his brain to remember. He dressed quickly and as a final touch, he added a pin to the breast pocket. The pin was two letters, presumably the initial's of his birth father (GH).
Today, he was too nervous for breakfast. As he left the Moreau home, he grabbed a granola bar and a water bottle, along with the paper bagged lunch his mother had made him. He shoved the lunch in his backpack and bit into the granola bar as he stepped out the door. His sister, Sailor, who was still in town from her summer break, was waiting for him - she had been staying with friends the past couple of nights. She was to give him a ride to school. They didn't exchange any words during the duration of the car ride, she knew that he was too stressed about the school year. He was taking college level courses with those of the eleventh grade this year. It was funny how he would be surrounded by these older kids but wasn't a part of their class. One would wonder why he turned down the offer to be moved up a grade. It wasn't like he would be walking with those in his grade or the ones above him. Three more semesters of his life (in high school) and he wouldn't be a student of Camelot High anymore.
Arriving at school, he hugged his sister goodbye, thanked her for the ride, then walked up toward the school. He adjusted the bag over his shoulder and clutched his varsity jacket from freshman year (lucky boy) that he had grabbed before leaving home that morning, and walked up the steps. Passing Teddy and Booker, giving them side eye - yuck, cigarettes - before disappearing into the halls of CHS. He pushed the jacket into the crook of his elbow and pulled out his schedule. It was seven something or other and he was trying to figure out where his first class was. He stopped by his locker, and began trying to get the lock. But he was shaking, and having a hard time getting it open. Hang on; I'll get Hui's starter up. Also, Chinese last names are before their actual name, so my character's full name (when said phonetically in Mandarin Chinese) is actually Feng Hui Ying. (Sorry if I sound annoying, btw. >.>).
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Post by ꮯꮋꮻꮯꮻꮮꭺꭲꭼ • ꮯꭹꭺ🇳ꮖꭰꭼ on Jan 2, 2018 21:04:49 GMT -5
Feng Hui Ying, 6:00 AM, At home "She hated the way you made her feel," Hui whispered to herself, reading her book aloud. "Unloved and unwanted." The girl paused, as her eyes scanned for the next line of the book instinctively. The was none. She had reached the end of the chapter. Sighing in disappointment and fatigue, the teen rubbed her eyes blearily before taking off her glasses to wipe them with the cloth of her nightgown. She hadn't been able to sleep last night, no matter how she tossed and turned. So, she had resigned herself to some late night reading, when she really should've been resting up for the day ahead. After all, it was the first day of school. Not that Hui found any point in attending the first day of school; she couldn't understand the excitement or resentment such a day brought forth. Nothing was taught in the classes, it was just some boring get-to-know you kind of stuff the teachers handed out. And even if there was work to do, the majority of it could be accounted for as review. (A.K.A the bane of the existence of Feng Hui Ying). It was something she absolutely despised with a burning passion. Part of the reason could be that she needed none of it, but it was mainly the nature of review she hated: the stupid material being recycled over and over again.
The things school taught simply couldn't even begin to satisfy her thirst for knowledge. She'd long decided that schoolwork was a sorry excuse at an attempt to educate the youth. The work she did at school simply didn't challenge her; it didn't give her the same thrill as the one she felt when she was researching quantum algorithms online, or reading books on the work of famous philosophers. (Confucius was amongst her favourites for his study of human morality that provided the base for many of today's so-called Golden Rules). That was the excuse she gave herself as she remained motionless, curled up in her reading chair. She could feel the sunlight through her curtains, warming her back, and reminding her of the time.
Taking a quick glance at her bedroom's digital clock, Hui Ying cursed quietly under her breath. It was nearly 6:30. She'd be late for school if she didn't hurr-
"Feng Hui Ying! Get down here young lady; you'll be late for school. Honestly, what are your teacher's going to think of you for being late on the first day of school? They'll think you're a slacker for sure. Is that the impression you want to give?" Her mother's voice got louder and more aggressive as she stomped up the stairs to their sub-par home in the working class neighborhood. Her bedroom door swung open with an angry shove of her mother's hand. Hui Ying winced at the loud clang it made against the wall. It would definitely be dented.
"What do you think you're doing? Reading?! At 6:30 in the morning? On a school day?" The rise in her mom's voice was not a subtle one. Before Hui could protest, her mother snatched the book right out of her lap with a practiced hand. "Get. Ready. Now."
It was an order.
Sighing for the second time in the morning, the teenager grudgingly got up from her comfortable reading hideout, shoving her feet into her fluffy pink slippers as she made her way to the bathroom she shared with her parents. She absentmindedly filled up the sink with cold water, splashing some on her face in the process to wake herself up. Glancing up, the girl eyed her reflection with distaste. Her black hair was ruffled and generally looked like a bird's nest. There was dark circles under her eyes and her lips were drier than the Sahara desert. No time to dwell on that now, she thought distractedly as she filled her purple cup with water and began brushing her teeth.
The now-frazzled teen got ready in record time, managing to throw herself into a presentable state by 6:55. She'd have to skip breakfast in order to make it to her first class on time, but she would make up for it by eating a bigger lunch. No harm done.
The roads were mercifully desolate, and the drive to school was peaceful.
When she arrived at her locker, Hui Ying scanned her surroundings. There was a couple of teenagers loitering around the hallways still. Chatting and milling about. Nobody seemed to be in a rush.
Thank god, she thought to herself. She wasn't late. Taking some time to finally calm down, she took a quick survey of her schedule. Hm. Advanced Calculus with Mr. Kayben first. Not bad. She actually rather liked calculus, as the work given seemed to border on her definition of "meaningful." Crumpling her schedule into an obscenely tiny piece of paper, she stuffed it into the back pocket of her black jeans. She then moved to spin the dial of the lock when she noticed a boy, about her age, struggling with opening his own lock. Her kindness overriding the anxiety she felt towards social interaction, Hui spoke up.
"Uh...would you like help with that?" She asked, nodding at his lock and shaking hands.
[Welp. That was longer than I expected for it to be. :'D]
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Post by Salted Squid on Jan 2, 2018 22:20:29 GMT -5
Skylar and Sadie Brennan The Brennan residence didn't look like it belonged in the neighborhood it was in. The two-story, three-bedroom home reeked of Suburban middle class, the type of place that wouldn't have been noticeable but for the fact that the little corner lot was located in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in North Carolina (and probably the richest neighborhood in Arthur). It didn't look like the kind of house that was half a block down the street from the lavish Dohman Manor. And it certainly didn't look like it was the home of one of Arthur's wealthiest families-- which, honestly, was exactly the reason Skylar liked it so much. It allowed her to escape the reality of life for a while, especially when her father was usually out of the house long before the girls awoke, on his way to work, and her mother was out of town because Congress was in session. The place allowed her to believe that her family was at least somewhat normal if she closed her eyes and tried hard enough.
At the very least, nobody was going to try to rob the place. Not if the robber had a brain to speak of, anyway. Small comfort there.
As usual, Skylar woke to the smell of food. Actually, it was the smell of food burning. Today it smelled like pancakes. With a groan, she rolled over in bed, blinking open her eyes. The alarm clock at her bedside read 6:02, and with a jolt Skylar remembered that today was the first day of her junior year. Well, fantastic.
Knowing that it would take her sister at least fifteen more minutes to make a fresh batch of unburned pancakes, Skylar debated rolling over and going back to sleep for a bit. She may have loved school, but mornings were not her friend. In the end, it was her deep concern that Sadie might actually burn the house down that got her moving (The entire family knew that Sadie was an awful cook, but that didn't stop her from trying. Besides, Skylar wasn't much better). Crossing to her closet, she pulled out a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt; pulling the clothes on, she grabbed a matching plaid flannel along with her socks and shoes before hurrying down the stairs.
"I wish you'd just stick with toast," she griped, tossing the flannel over the back of a chair before sitting down to pull on her shoes.
"Can it. You know I'm the Master Chef," Sadie shot back over her shoulder. Her hair was wet, and Skylar guessed her sister had gone out for a jog and showered before tempting fate with the kitchen materials. "At the very least, I'm better than you are."
"Oh, yeah. Is that why it smells like I need to call the fire department?" Skylar shot back, smirking. Standing, she pulled on her flannel, then joined her sister over by the stove. "Honestly, I've never known anyone else to burn water. I didn't even know it was possible."
Sadie turned, flashing her sister a fake pout. "That's mean," she whined. "And I promise I'm improving. Look, this bunch isn't even burned!"
As it turned out, the pancakes that the twins ended up eating were only slightly scalded, which was definitely an improvement from the almost entirely blackened batch that took up residence in the trash. Silently, Skylar reminded herself to order a pizza for that night, if only so the place didn't smell like burned food when Dad got home. After finishing, Skylar loaded the dishwasher (like the responsible sister she was) while Sadie went to finish getting ready.
Twenty minutes later the twins were pulling into the school's parking lot, Sadie behind the wheel and Skylar curled in the passenger seat with headphones on and a book open on her lap. Surprisingly, they managed to find a parking lot rather quickly; usually the lot was pretty packed at this time. Skylar guessed that the majority of the students had forgotten that today was the first day, though it wasn't something that had ever happened to her or her sister. The pair walked to the front of the school together, where-- to Skylar's slight dismay-- the pair had to split up to find their lockers. As she walked, Skylar pulled out her phone to pull up her schedule; she knew that she had Advanced Calculus first thing, but it helped her nerves to check, just one last time. Sure enough, there it was: Advanced Calculus with Mr. Kayben in room 301. Satisfied, she put her phone away, just in time to reach her locker, which was right next to a boy who was shaking so hard that he couldn't even put in his locker combination. The girl whose locker was on the other side of him seemed to be offering to help, so Skylar just decided to focus on putting in her own combination. Thankfully, she had only needed to look at it once; her memory for numbers and codes was simply superior. Nobody could match it, at least not among those who she had previously met. Even so, she found that the rattling of the lock beside her as the boy desperately tried to open it grated on her nerves horribly, and she gritted her teeth as she got her locker opened, trying rather desperately not to snap at the poor kid.
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Post by Salted Squid on Jan 2, 2018 22:30:08 GMT -5
I still don't like the end of that starter but at least I have one! Lmao
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Bisexual
Lea
Follow me to Sawgrassclan
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Post by Lea on Jan 3, 2018 0:16:46 GMT -5
Usually, Addison was able to accomplish simple tasks such as opening his locker. Somehow, though, he was having a way harder time than usual. Maybe it was all the people or that it was the first day or school or the fact that he Advanced Placement Literature and Composition (AP. Lit.&Comp.) first period with Dr. Louis Deshawn (he had been a big shot lawyer before he was a high school English teacher) who was one of the toughest teachers at Camelot High - arguably tougher than Mr. Kayben.
Addison groaned, then slammed a fist on the door. His immediate thought was to give up, but he knew that not giving up was his specialty and so he went right back to it. He turned the right combination, but had accidentally turned it one too many times when Feng Hui Ying came up asking him if he needed help. Addison shook the door, momentarily neglecting to acknowledge her. Momentarily (key word there).
He turned to her and smiled. Right off the bat, he was trying to get a feel for this girl. He wondered if she was the over played smart Asian kid or some princess suck-up. Not that it really mattered to him, but he would have to figure it out if this interaction was genuine. If she was a smart kid, she was the enemy as she appeared to be the same age as him and he had this odd need to be number one in the class. If she was older or younger than him, though, he had nothing to worry about.
"I know the combination is right, because I tried it at registration. Apparently, however, I am lacking the ability to properly put the combination in," of course he was talking too much, it was a defense mechanism of his: talk their ear off until they were either sick of him or trying to out talk him (usually it was the latter.) He chuckled nervously, "So, um, yeah. Please, help me." he thought that it couldn't hurt to be nice and ask for help. It was so rare for him to do such a thing.
He lived by the mantra that competition was key and to ask for help was weakness. It was something drilled into his head since he was young, watching his siblings succeed in literally everything that they did. It made him kind of jealous, that they shared the same DNA and he didn't. He had assumed for years that because he was different, he wasn't as good. Of course, he would grow to prove them that he was better.
This, asking for help, was a big step. But if he had learned anything from his psychology books, it was that asking for help was okay. This year, he was trying to be even better than the year before. And plus, it was just asking for help get his locker open. He could always change the combination if it became weird, her knowing it and all. It didn't hurt that she was really pretty. Addison had never noticed that before, how pretty a girl was. Maybe it was because he had been too focused on school and sports since he could walk, or the fact that he had really been hit by puberty this past summer. He had seriously bulked up, and grown several inches. If it weren't for his baby face, he would be mistaken for a super senior.
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Post by mourningdove on Jan 3, 2018 1:21:00 GMT -5
(Filling out some sheets now!!)
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Post by 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 on Jan 3, 2018 7:40:03 GMT -5
- { DeGray, Kane A. The seemingly eternal summer sky, which would typically be light and airy, is a widow’s sky, be-darkened and weeping. The clouds are crass and kraken-cruel. They cough out great gouts of water and pattering swells of sopping moisture. It cascades down, sliding elegantly off the slanted rooftops and gathering in groups of puddles on the chatoyant sidewalk. It is a cataclysm of rain, an unending torrent of water sluicing from the atramentous sky. Most anywhere else in the world you would find summer skies to be abounding with blue-gray colorations, more so on the blue side, as well as maybe a few frivolous clouds. In the city of Arthur, North Carolina, though, you get rain. The people of this city are used to it however, as it is not scarce. They continue on with their everyday lives, not stopping for even the heaviest downpours. Although it is around seven-thirty in the morning, the sidewalks are occluded with bodies hurrying, or sauntering, to their destinations.
A shield is created from the pitter-patter of the rain as it glides off the awning above him. With his long legs outstretched, Kane supports himself on the main patio of the building behind him with his elbows. The sabulous contact made by his bony elbows with the ground is not particularly the most comfortable feeling in the world, but as he has been sitting in this position for a while, his elbows have grown accustomed and become numb. He rolls his stone colored eyes at the thought of having the grainy substance latched onto him encompassed with rouge splotches. Closing his optics, he tilts his head to the left and then to the right, letting out a deep sigh of relief as he stretches the middle scalene muscles of his neck. He becomes mobile once more, only for a few moments to reach his hand into his pocket and reveal a thick box. Turning it upside down and tapping it quickly four times, he brought the box back to its original state and flipped open the lid. Grabbing one of the cylindrical rolls of finely cut tobacco wrapped in thin white paper with a dull marmalade colored tip, he placed the small package back in his pocket and pulled out a matte black lighter. With a quick, powerful motion of his thumb, he rolled the spark wheel down into the ignition button. The spark wheel struck a spark, igniting the gas being released by the ignition button. His eyebrows elevated ever so slightly as the flame was arisen from its hiding place. He placed the cigarette between the second and third knuckle of his index and middle finger and then up to his lips. The musty, fog-like scent weaved its way through the air and into his nose. He closed his eyes with satisfaction and sucked in his cheeks and then inhaled quickly. The smoky taste engulfed him as he became relaxed.
Anyone promenading by Kane would feel many things. They might see him and think that he is a delinquent who lingers around in the dark waiting to get you alone and strike. They could think he is homeless. Some could observe the cigarette and his weary face and come to the conclusion that he is not a member of the high class at all and that he has been through tough times, taking to drugs as a remedy. All of these assumptions about him are true. Typically, the moral action to take is to not judge someone with just appearances, but this young man does not feel the need to wear a mask and hide his true self from people. Especially from people who he would be reuniting with at school in a few short moments, if he could ever get the motivation to hoist himself up from the front step of a run-down club and go get his pointless education. He really did not see the point in going to school, as he was already smarter than most people gave him credit for, due to the status that was connected to his name and the way he looked. He was handsome, there is no doubt about that, but he had a record, and typically people do not want to be associated with people who find pleasure in bending and breaking regulations. His faded blush colored lips curled into a smirk as he inwardly chuckled at seeing the faces and expressions of his fellow peers. He flicked the remains of the cigarette off to the side and pushed himself up to a standing position. He reeked of cigarette smoke, but he did not really care, as the scent is pleasurable to him. Running his hands through his messy black-brown hair, he started heading towards his house so he could collect his empty backpack and his surprisingly sleek sports car. Kane was someone who people pin-pointed as dirt poor, but he was far from that. He kept information about his finances undercover, as money was not even one of the most important things to him. He could not really care less about the amount of money he had, just as long as he could make a living off of the amount in his possession.
Shutting off the powerful rumble of the ignition, Kane emerged from his ebony flushed car and slung his backpack over one shoulder. He wore a tight-fitted black t-shirt layered with a hoodie, which was then layered with a leather jacket. His fitted jeans were black as well. Picking his shoes was typically the hardest part, as he never knows if black or white should go. He spent about ten minutes earlier in the morning choosing shoes and after long debates with his inner self, he chose to go with white high-top nike air force ones. Kane was one who took an extreme interest in fashion, as he leaned more towards streetwear and designer clothing. However, he kept the designer clothing a secret for the most part, hiding multiple articles in the deep back section of his closet. It was not like anyone had ever wanted to go to his house or hang out with him as he was part of the "exiled" group of the high school society, but he still wanted to take precaution in case something changed this year. His hopes were not high, as he was one who only seemed to mess around with girls, not wanting to give way to anything too emotional. He did not want to seem weak and fall into the pits of love that were impossible to get out of. He was a known heartbreaker, but none of the girls he had hooked up with had ever complained. He shut the driver’s side door and let out an exhale and one last eye roll before entering the dreaded building. He knew he was late. Did he care? Not a chance. He knew it was the first day of a new year. Did he care? Not at all. Was he the type of person to g0 all out with his clothing just to make a statement and gain attention? No. He could do that naturally with the way he looked. His clothes would not matter, although some of the students who resided in the high-class part of the city would probably have some snarky comment to say, if any of them were brave enough to approach him or even be seen with him. His whole demeanor was intimidating, the way he would treat you always seeming to be unexpected. He was a beautifully chaotic mystery, encompassed with secrets and darkness that had yet to be revealed.
- { Grace, Aurelia E. After the form-fitted, rose colored spaghetti strapped tank top is peeled from a petite framed chest and the expensive undergarments have been removed, a young girl stood in front of a full body length mirror as she searched for flaws and/or areas that she thought needed improvement. Of course, this was a normal thing for teenagers to do, more so with the feminine side of the gender spectrum. The girl standing before the mirror was none other than seventeen-year-old Aurelia Elizabeth Grace. These long minutes of observation have become part of her morning routine ever since she was in middle school. She receives compliments on her looks almost every time she goes out in public, although she does not know if these compliments are factual or if people are just trying to make up for the lack of politeness in the world. Either way, she refuses to deny the compliment, taking it just as easily as it had been given to her. She knew she was pretty, but she also thought there were improvements that could be made with her body, and on second thought, her personality. She stepped back a few inches and turned around, viewing herself in many different angles and positions. Shrugging her bony shoulders, content with how she was at this moment in time, she slipped on her silky robe that matched the color of her sleepwear, and lightly bounded to the bathroom.
It was one of those mornings where everything was fluttering with happiness and positivity. Overall, Aurelia was an extremely positive and outgoing human being, not having an ounce of negativity within her aura, as she finds that people with that personality trait seem to drive potential acquaintances away. She has always been the type of girl to only see things on one side: the bright one. This is one of the main reasons why people are drawn to her and why she always finds herself surrounded by people, or if not multiple people, at least one she can always count on. She really does not like to be alone, she uses her natural people skills to act as a “shield” to keep her from ending up as a loner. Being seen as a loner, especially in high school, is something she would never want to have happen to her. People who are constantly alone and never around people are pushed to the side of the social ladder and commonly picked on. She can admit, she has bashed people who are like this before, but that was when she was trying to earn her ranking at the beginning of high school. Now that she has had some experience, she is far from that. Although not many adolescents who get picked on defend themselves against the popular crowd, she is the type that will step in and say words in the victim’s honor. She really does not like violence or arguments and will try to do anything to stop them.
From the spacious bedroom of Aurelia, it is just a few steps to the entrance of her bathroom which is lined from floor to ceiling with large granite tile. The tile is a daisy hue flecked with very faint streaks of a color that is similar to the one that inhibits itself among the clouds. The expansive shower is cloaked by thick walls of glass, the stainless-steel shower head gleaming as the maid had probably just finished polishing it. Fresh towels, which she could smell from the detergent, were neatly folded on top of the pearl colored toilet. Newborn sunlight was filtering in through the window and warming the space around Aurelia. Delicately sliding off her robe and hanging it on the hook that was attached to the back of the door, she extended her slender arm towards the faucet knob on the base wall of the shower and began feeling for the temperature that was just right for her satisfaction. Once found, she climbed in the shower and began washing.
The cascading water came to a halt as Aurelia climbed out of the shower. She grabbed two towels. The first she wrapped her hair with and the second she wrapped around her body. She exited the bathroom and returned to her room. Her icy blue eyes caught the time that was illuminating off her alarm clock which resided on her bedside table. 6:15. A smile danced across her lips as she found herself ahead of the original schedule she had set the night before. The reason she set a schedule you might ask? It is the first day of a new year in high school. She was a junior now, finally passing up the hard stresses of being a sophomore. She hoped junior year would treat her better than the prior year did. Tracing her fingers over the many drawers of her dresser, her hand connected with the one that housed her undergarments. Slipping on a set of lace, she skipped over to her large walk-in closet filled with only designer, and spent about a half an hour looking for the perfect outfit. Excitement swirled in her eyes and inside her stomach as she slipped on a little-too-short black silk dress. Pulling out her crimson Christian Louboutin high heels, she slipped them on shortly before placing a diamond necklace around her neck and returning to the bathroom to do her makeup.
She carefully walked down the spiral staircase and greeted her parents who were sitting at the long table in the kitchen. There was already food on the table, served on silver platters and porcelain plates. There was not much time this morning for any sort of conversation as she was way too excited to get back into the school environment. She plucked some grapes from the bunch and placed them on her plate ever so delicately. Then, she chose a small waffle and a scoop of eggs and began to eat. It did not take her long to finish and once she did, she embraced each of her parents, said goodbye to the maid, grabbed the keys to her brand new blacked out BMW and drove to school. She found a parking spot close to the entrance she used to always walk through with her friends last year and smiled to herself as she climbed out of the seat, slipped her black Givenchy purse on her arm, locked the car, and headed towards the entrance.
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Post by . on Jan 3, 2018 11:00:47 GMT -5
(Hey guys I'm here if anyone has characters open)
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Post by ꮯꮋꮻꮯꮻꮮꭺꭲꭼ • ꮯꭹꭺ🇳ꮖꭰꭼ on Jan 3, 2018 12:29:39 GMT -5
Sorry for poofing last night. ;-; Typing up Hui's reply rn.
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Post by mourningdove on Jan 3, 2018 12:53:56 GMT -5
(Anyone wanna rp?? I have Annarel, but I'm adding more soon)
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Bisexual
Lea
Follow me to Sawgrassclan
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Post by Lea on Jan 3, 2018 12:56:40 GMT -5
(Anyone wanna rp?? I have Annarel, but I'm adding more soon) ( Carter, Skylar/Sadie, Ivy, and Kane all have starters but no responses yet, if you wanted to throw Annarel into any of them. All three of my characters are occupied currently, otherwise I would love to role play with you c: )
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Post by Deleted on Jan 3, 2018 12:59:17 GMT -5
{ how is it going my friends i'll flick through to look at other starters once i've finished up what i have to do first, and then i'll get my own starters up c: if anyone wants me to respond to them / write a starter for them, hmu }
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Post by . on Jan 3, 2018 13:00:52 GMT -5
(So I'm making lunch right now but I've got Carter up if anyone wants to respond to him Riley and Sophia will be up when someone has an interest in interacting with them)
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Post by . on Jan 3, 2018 13:11:57 GMT -5
- { hello everyone c: my starters are posted above if you would like to look at them ^^ (Wanna roleplay? I've got Carter (Exiled), Riley (Knight), and Sophia (Queen))
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Bisexual
Lea
Follow me to Sawgrassclan
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Post by Lea on Jan 3, 2018 13:13:13 GMT -5
(So I'm making lunch right now but I've got Carter up if anyone wants to respond to him Riley and Sophia will be up when someone has an interest in interacting with them) ( Sophia can probably come interact with Teddy and Booker if you'd like )
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Post by . on Jan 3, 2018 13:14:56 GMT -5
(So I'm making lunch right now but I've got Carter up if anyone wants to respond to him Riley and Sophia will be up when someone has an interest in interacting with them) ( Sophia can probably come interact with Teddy and Booker if you'd like ) (sounds good. I'm still making lunch so I can read everything and throw her in with them later)
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Post by 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 on Jan 3, 2018 13:17:38 GMT -5
- { someone can jump in with my characters if they want c:
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Post by 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 on Jan 3, 2018 13:19:28 GMT -5
- { getting a feeling that she should be a princess and like somehow become best friends with aurelia cause she can be petty and stuck up too even though she has the innocence of a deer asdkjashdklja
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Post by mourningdove on Jan 3, 2018 13:20:55 GMT -5
(I'd love to reply to Kane once I get back from the hospital!!)
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Post by . on Jan 3, 2018 13:22:02 GMT -5
(I want to make another character but I'm not sure who to bring in...)
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Post by ꮯꮋꮻꮯꮻꮮꭺꭲꭼ • ꮯꭹꭺ🇳ꮖꭰꭼ on Jan 3, 2018 13:32:08 GMT -5
Feng Hui Ying, 7:20 AM, Camelot High School Mentions Addison Moreau
Feng Hui Ying was not a talkative girl, to say the least. She got anxious too easily and "timid" did not even begin to describe her level of shyness. The anxiety was always there, creeping in the back of her mind, ready to strike on a moment's notice. It had been that way for the better part of her life. Panic attacks were not uncommon. To save herself from humiliation, she'd stopped trying at improving her social life and status a long time ago. She'd accepted that she was never going to get any better; she would always wish a great big hole would swallow her up every time she needed to interact with another human. Change was simply not in the books for her. Of course, she had never told anyone about her feelings. For one, who would she tell? Her parents? Such topics were unthinkable. Mental health was not ever brought up in the brief conversations she held with her parents on a day to day basis and she didn't expect they'd understand. Probably would have said it was all in her head anyway. For another, Hui was completely functional. Well, functional enough to get through seven hours of being surrounded by a few hundred dimwits that is. Conversation with the populations of Camelot High School were rare, and if they did happen, it would be awfully one-sided. (Of course, this was not including the daily threats of, "I expect my homework to be done by tomorrow, or else." Decorated with a slew of colourful language and not-so-nice names, too).
If humans were wolves, then Hui Ying would be a lone wolf. Content to wander and roam at her own pace, in her own little world of literature. Books were the things that kept her from going insane with frustration. Fantasy was her favourite genre, especially high fantasy. Oh, how she envied the brave and fearless heroines that saved the day. She could spend days, weeks, or even months reading about them without getting bored. She knew each magical world by heart, and at this very moment she wished to be in Neverland with the Lost Boys. It was customary to wish herself away whenever she was part of a conversation.
Hui Ying had not expected the boy to accept her offered help, nor had she expected another girl to take up residence in the locker beside said boy. To say she was "terrified" would be the understatement of the century. "Um...okay," she began in a barely audible voice. Taking the slip of paper with his locker combination on it (making sure not to make contact with his extended hand), she quickly got into action. 7, 28, 12, read the paper. Trying to keep her hands from trembling to hard, Hui Ying began by giving the lock's dial three spins, clockwise.
7. There, that was the first number done. She spun the dial counter clockwise now, for one full rotation, before landing on the next number.
28. One more number to go. She swore her heart could be heard by the whole school by now. With a twist of her small fingers, she dialed in the final number.
12. It was done. Finally.
Giving an anxious tug on the lock, she was relieved to find her fingers were met with little resistance. The Dudley lock opened and Hui let out a breath she didn't she'd been holding. "Here you go," she said, handing him his opened lock.
[How'd the nerds manage to clump together on the first day of school? xD ]
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Post by lazy penguin on Jan 3, 2018 13:39:21 GMT -5
(I'm here struggling to finish the Honey started I literally feel asleep working on last night cause I was getting dangerously close to 48 hours without sleep if anyone wants me to respond to one of their starters?)
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