f r e e samples.

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• oh geez a new sample thread.
  ya know the drill. dnp. dns.
  
  how to make sense of this place:
  
  ██ ❛▼ this is sample posts from since the beginning of time aka fall 2012
  ██ ❛▼ most of these are arranged intro, middle-ish post, last-ish post
  ██ ❛▼ some of them only have two posts bc woops the thread died
  ██ ❛▼ arranged in chronological order. 1st post = 1st posted chara
  ██ ❛▼ my average post length seems to be ~ 700-1000 words. depending.
  
  
  
  [list][list][list][list][imgright]http://i.imgur.com/P2LbxRR.png[/imgright][align=right][align=left][list][list][list][list][size=15][color=white][*][/color][/size][size=10.5][color=#959191][size=14]@info: character. [url=][color=#959191][u][color=#959191]roleplay.[/color][/u][/color][/url] type of post. word count. date.[/size]

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• @info: evelyn phillips. montebleu high school. intro. 422 words. 10/18/12.
  
  When Evelyn arrived, it was in a a bright yellow taxi screeching around a corner and into the court-yard of Montebleu High School. The book she had been engrossed in throughout her trip to the Japanese boarding school had been ripped from her hands and thrown across to the other side of the cab. Evelyn herself had been nearly tossed onto the faded seats if not for the seat belt holding her in place. "The [********] man?" Eve shouted at the driver, kicking his seat violently. "It's just school. I don't need to get there that fast. s**t." Evelyn had by then righted herself and moved to unstrap herself from the death trap. On hands and knees, Eve scrambled across the backseat to rescue her book from the floor. "a**." She muttered, dusting off the cover of her baby gently.
  
  She climbed out of the taxi clumsily, dress flying up. Once out in the open Japanese air, she stretched, twisted her body, and cracked her back loudly. The driver popped the trunk on the cab and Evelyn circled on around to start pulling out her bags. Big bags. Enormous bags. That she was going to carry to her dorm herself. She threw each bag over alternating shoulders with a grunt and a groan. She pulled the last one, a rolling suitcase, out of the trunk and staggered to the driver to pay - in exact change. That done, Eve began trekking up to the school and in search of her dorm, feeling for all the world like a god forsaken pack mule.
  
  'Now let's see, let's see.' She meandered down the hall, studying each and every number she passed. 'Ah, here we are.' She thought to herself when she finally found her own dorm. She set about untangling herself from the layered straps and dropped the bags onto the floor haphazardly. Eh, she would unpack them later. Eve stepped over the luggage and flopped straight onto the bed, wriggling into the mattress with a satisfied mumbling. She lay there for several long minutes before she worked up the willpower to rise from the bed again back popping all the way. "Ahhhh, ********]"
  
  Eve swung herself to her feet, stamping with all the force she could in her black flats. She straightened her clothing, pulled down her skirt, and smoothed out her hair. Ready to reveal herself to the public, she pranced right out of her dorm to go exploring. She began by strolling in a random direction and continuing down the hall aimlessly.

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• @info: evelyn phillips. montebleu high school. reply. 760 words. 01/18/13.
  
  What had she just gotten herself into? Eve sat stiffly in her chair as the twins suddenly focused their attention on her. As sly as snakes they slipped around the table to sandwich Eve between them. They traded off sentences in a way that made the brunette extremely uncomfortable. It was like having clones over her shoulder... cyborg clones. It was creepy and completely unnecessary. And her Devil Roommate just sat there taking it all in before slipping of absently. Stupid roommate. Eve's eyes narrowed, ready to give each twin a good smack the arm if need be. It was still too early, and too little caffeine, to deal with mischievous twins.
  
  Thankfully, the pair of boys returned to their side of the table and continued their meal. Eve easily slipped back into her coffee-worship. Until they asked for an introduction. Eve set down her coffee cup with a plunk and a sigh. Couldn't they see she was currently having a love affair with her latte? Grumbling, Evelyn replied, "My name is Eve. No stupid jokes, please. Or I'll have to risk detention and my coffee to make sure you're faces won't be able to make jokes ever again." Eve paused. Was that a little too harsh? Probably. It didn't matter much, because if there was any hope of them being friendly toward each other, the twins would have to get used to such Eve-isms. It was just who she was. Speaking of the twins, hadn't she seen them just the day before? She took a closer look at their faces. It was them! She had sat near them with Arielle during the combined Art / Drama club meeting. And she vaguely recalled seeing them in the play. She didn't remember ever catching their names, though. It was polite to ask their names in return, right? Eve hated polite society. "So... We sat together at the meeting yesterday. I was on the other side of Tiny. Uh, y'know 'My Italian Sausage'. That girl. I was the make-up artist for another guy, though. Jamie... or something. The blonde one. You know him?"
  
  Eve was abruptly caught off by a green-haired boy popping up behind the twins and pulling the doppelgangers into a headlock. Eve was stuck staring with mouth agape at the interaction between the German and the twins. How very un-ladylike. This guy... was dressed as Santa Claus. Eve was seated at a table with a green-haired Santa Claus, a Mrs. Claus, and identical elves. What did that make her, a reindeer or something? This guy... Tweedle-dee, Tweedle-Dum? Thing 2 and Thing 1? Double-date? Was he serious? There was just no way. Eve doubled over in her seat trying to contain her laughter. "Oh my god, what?" She managed between laughs. Aaron took off his hat to demonstrate nothing inside, but a shower of chocolate roses came pouring out instead. "Holy -" Her laughter was renewed.
  
  When she calmed again, Eve nabbed one of the twin's candy. "We're on a date, remember?" Eve winked at the pair. "You need to share~"
  
  But of course, Aaron wasn't finished. The green-haired male dug around in his sack for.. something while Eve dug into her mooched candy before anyone could even think of taking it from her. Aaron finished his search and Eve was forced to blink as she was handed... a book. Emma was given something similar, a recipe book, but Eve was given honest-to-goodness fiction. Eve stared at the cover in shock. "What." But before Evelyn could interrogate the boy and how in the world he knew she would want a book, he was off and away to do something else. Spontaneously, Evelyn held the book away from herself with two fingers, as if it contained poison or something. Maybe it did. How did he know she'd want a book. Was he... a stalker or something? He was. He had to be. He was a creeper. Jesus, he wasn't just some guy going around handing out candy. He was giving personalized gifts. He gave a personalized gift to Eve. And she loved it. What the hell.
  
  She couldn't stand to look at it anymore. She stuffed it into her bag without further ado. That red on her face... it was just really warm in the cafe. Right? Right. Nothing else. Stupid books. Straightening up, Eve caught a glimpse of her one-true friend entering the cafe. "Hey! Tiny!" She shouted, mindless of her company. She waved at the smaller girl to catch her attention. "Come sit with us! Pull up a chair or something!"

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• @info: evelyn phillips (genderbend!event). montebleu high school. reply. 708 words. 08/28/13.
  
  Adam flinched as Andy bounded to his side and peered over his shoulder, but he didn't attempt to hide the text. It wasn't a big deal, really. It was just Harper and it wasn't like a sext or anything. As if. (Although that did seem like something Harper would do, if only to annoy or embarrass Adam.) But no, it wasn't. It was hardly anything else mushy or cheesy or the other romantic crap Andy expected, as indicated by his teasing question. Special person? Well, yes and no. Harper had certainly wormed his way into Adam's life, but it wasn't what Andy was implying. At least not exactly? Harper was important. Aside from Andy, he was the first person Adam had really gotten close to since transferring to Montebleu at the beginning of the year. He could trust Harper.
  
  They were comfortable enough together, a lovely compliment. Harper was bright where Adam was sometimes dull and where Adam steadied them like a rock, Harper was the buoy that kept them floating. And even though they could both be abrasive toward the other's needs and boundaries, somehow they still managed to find a way to make their cohabitation work. (With all the roommates Adam had gone through before Harper, that said a lot.) Adam would be lying if he denied any of that. But... he would also be lying if he said he loved Harper (because, let's face it, that's what Andy really meant.) Adam enjoyed spending time with Harper, certainly. And yes, they were definitely more than just friends. It was more than just a simple relationship. But... But.. Well, they weren't dating. They didn't really have much of any exact title. "Friends with benefits" just didn't really seem to fit and neither did "******** buddies", but it was probably the closest Adam could come to a solid definition. But truly, it was just a fluid kind of relationship. A mutual understanding. And that was what was important, right?
  
  "Yeah, he's my roommate." The taller brunet glanced away. Well, it was the truth, wasn't it? Except it wasn't the whole truth. Sighing, Adam admitted, "I guess you could say we're pretty close." Insert above rant. Etc. Etc. It was all the same thing circling around Adam's mind, anyway. Why did it matter so much? It shouldn't, really. It didn't. Not really? Ugh, forget it, he didn't want that weighing down on him. Instead, Adam focused on the shorter male hanging off his shoulders. They made a ridiculous sort of pair -- Andy tried to lean fully on Adam, slouching as if to give off a suave attitude, but due to his diminutive stature, failed to give off the full effect. It only made the smooth French drawling from Andy's tongue seem absurd. Andy was probably the only person Adam would ever indulge like this.
  
  Except he was soon proven wrong: Rin saved the brunet by karate chopping the Italian boy over the head. Only to be replaced by a familiar set of arms as Adam passively watched the antics of the others not long after. There was a brief moment where the brunet tensed, before he realized who had just wrapped their arms around him. Harper. Just like that, the tension melted away and he leaned into the aqua-haired male's hold. See? They were easy. They just seemed to shift into these positions... Harper stroking along Adam's collar, warm against his side. That wasn't just "friends with benefits". But - he wasn't supposed to be thinking those things anyway. Even if it did keep popping up (what did that mean for him? For them? Was that a sign?) Wait, wait. Forget it. That was something to consider over a black house brew. Not in the middle of a hall without basic sustenance.
  
  Adam perked at the mention of eating, attention immediately returning back to the main group in front of him. "Food sounds good. Breakfast, lunch, brunch, whatever. Yes, please." He hadn't realized how hungry he was until right that moment -- it was probably just the coffee suppressing the urge to eat, but damn. When had his stomach turned into a bottomless cavern. "I vote for Phillip's Foodler."
  
  His head tilted back to peer at Harper. "Will you join us?"

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• @info: phoenix thompson. punish. intro. 459 words. 11/09/12.
  
  'Carmina forgot to turn off the TV' was the first thought Phoenix had as he came to. He could here the white noise in the background and the flickering light against his eyelids was giving him a headache. Groaning, Phoenix rolled over, intent on turning the television off and returning to sleep, when the fact that he was in a foreign room hit him like a ton of bricks. 'The ********?' He thought to himself. He scoured last night's events in an attempt to remember how he gotten to such a strange room - he hadn't been out partying or anything that could have left him with a blackhole where the previous night's events should have been. Actually, the last thing he remembered was waiting at the bus stop after work. What had happened after that? Where the hell was he? A movement behind him had Phoenix twisting around. On a bed parallel to his own lay a young woman. But how - he had never been so far out of his mental faculties to make it home with a woman before. Furthermore, why were there separate beds? What the hell was going on?
  
  The light in the room shifted; it was a different kind of flickering, more steady. Unconcerned, Phoenix sat up in his bed, watching the other occupant of room. Should he wake her? There was a high probability that she knew how exactly he had gotten there. Carefully, he slid out of the bed, relieved to find he was still clothed, and in his own clothing, too. He quietly crept to the young woman and was about to nudge her shoulder when a voice startled him away.
  
  "How are you doing this lovely night?"
  
  Phoenix jerked around to the source of the sound. It was only the TV. A static film played on the television, a young girl frightened and afraid as a disembodied voice taunted her. Probably just some horror movie that had just flicked on by itself. He turned back to the young woman. "Hey," Phoenix said as he shook the girl awake. "Heeeey, wake up." On the TV, the voice was busy monologuing. The whole situation was beginning to give Phoenix the creeps.
  
  There was a flash on the TV and something screamed nearby, followed by the echo on the television speakers. Cold dread spilled down Phoenix's spine. "Polly!" The girl was yelling on the TV and somewhere behind the walls of the room Phoenix could hear the muffled shouts of the same girl trying to rescue whatever was in the burning cage on the television screen.
  
  "Oh s**t. Oh s**t." Phoenix backed away from the television. He turned from the screen, not wanting to see what was playing out in another room. "Oh s**t."

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• @info: phoenix thompson. punish. event reply. 1487. 11/25/12.
  
  "...from time to time Princes came and tried to force their way through the hedge and into the castle. But they found it impossible for the thorns, as though they were alive, grabbed at them and would not let them through." - Sleeping Beauty
  
  Phoenix entered the room and froze. Wires. From top to bottom of the room, great maze of twisted glaring, jagged teeth. It was a thicket of death. Somewhere by his side, the Toma guy stopped. Behind them, an ominous clicking signaled their imprisonment. His heart sank. Half-buried in his memories, the words of a story he had once read in his senior English class rose to the surface.
  
  "One evening, the mother read the little boy to sleep with a fairy story from the book the wise old witch had given him at Christmas. Next day he pretended to be the Prince who braves the terrible thicket of thorns to enter the palace and kiss the Sleeping Beauty back to life: He dragged a ladder to the wall, the shining coiled tunnel just wide enough for his little body to creep in, and with the first fixing of its razor teeth in his knees and hands and head he screamed and struggled deeper into its tangle." - Nadine Gordimer, Once upon a Time
  
  Barbed-wire. Once you were caught, you were damned. The more you struggled, the more trapped you became until you were mangled and shredded worse than a pulled pork sandwich. And beyond that? A table, a syringe, and a timer. His life was on the other side of that death-trap.
  
  Toma nodded to him and made his way to a dusty podium in the center of the wire-free floor. Another tape. It was held up, like a piece offering.
  
  "We’re just doing this to live right?"
  
  A placating smile. Phoenix narrowed his eyes. He didn't like that. A disclaimer, an act. As if he were forgiving Phoenix for winning, but Phoenix knew what Toma was truly thinking. He was just letting Phoenix know it was 'nothing personal' for when Phoenix lost and he was left dying on the floor. "Yeah, sure." Phoenix muttered with a grimace. "Survival of the fittest. May the best man win. And all that other s**t"
  
  A click of the play button on the tape and their captors voice trilled from the recording. The first part of the tape confirmed his suspicions. They would need to make their way across the wire-barbs to reach the cure. The rest of the recording was a bull-s**t attempt at a guilt-trip/ justification for their so-called 'judge's' actions. And then the clock was ticking down. Toma seemed to waste no time in making his way into the dragon's teeth, prompting Phoenix to follow.
  
  The first strand of wires were horizontal with just enough room for a moderate-sized human body to make it through. No problem. But the next row made him wish he had taken yoga with his sister. There was no way in hell or on Earth that he would be able to make it through without maiming himself in some way. To his left Toma was cursing furiously, which drew Phoenix's attention. It appeared the other male had managed to fit his head and part of his upper body through a larger space in the wires, but had otherwise become stuck. Blood was already trickling to the floor in a small puddle. Phoenix's heart leapt in his chest - his competitor was stuck and he, Phoenix was not!
  
  With his foot, Phoenix carefully stepped down on one of the lower wires, prodding it lower in hopes that it would widen the space in front of him. It did - slightly. He attempted to maneuver his body side-ways through the small space - hardly a foot high - with his right leg lifted high over the wire and his right arm delicately pushing at the wire above his head. It was awkward and so precarious he was certain he was going to topple over into the briar the barbs made. He sucked in his gut and wormed himself as quickly as reasonably possible. Not even a quarter of his body made it before he could feel the wired teeth biting into the skin of his back. Phoenix froze, one leg straining to hold the rest of his body and the rest as taut as a (funeral) drum. 'Don't panic. It's just your back. It's just your back. Do. Not. Panic. ' A whine rose in his throat and spilled forth like the blood pouring from his back. He made to glance over at Toma, but stopped himself. 'No. No, don't look. Focus. Just look down. Focus.' Deep breath in, deep breath out. And he was moving again. The knife-jaws ripped into his flesh and set his back aflame with searing pain. Tears welled up in his eyes. He choked on a wild keening cry. He had never experienced pain to this degree. Nothing, not accidentally slicing a finger while chopping vegetables for his mom, not burning himself on a candle flame, not even the worst hangover could ever compare to this. He could feel the barbs shredding him to pieces, digging further and further into his body. 'Don't struggle. Don't struggle. Keep going. Straight line, nice and clean.' It felt like eons, Phoenix was certain the clock had run out before he had even made it through the second strand of wires. But... he had made it.
  
  The next batch of wires looked to be nothing but a spiraling coil barbs from ceiling to floor with nearly no breaks in the maze. Phoenix's heart sped up. 'Calm. Calm. No fear. Panicking will only make you bleed out faster. No fear.' He tried using the same technique he had on the previous wires, but it wasn't much use: there were just too many of them in one spot to create any real space between them. So he took what he could get and thrust himself into the thicket with as much bravery as he could muster.
  
  Pain.
  
  'Don't struggle. Don't struggle.'
  
  He had reached forward in hopes of using a wire to pull himself through, but had ended up with a wicked slice in the palm of his right hand and countless cuts up and down his arms, legs, and face. Phoenix closed his eyes against the onslaught and made a noise like a wounded animal. When he opened them again, his vision was clouded by blood. No amount of blinking cleared it. He tried moving forward, flinching at the slices to his skin, but didn't make it far. His pant leg was caught in the teeth of the lower wires. He was panting, whole body trembling, adrenaline working through his body so fast and sharp that he could see every knife point in his way. He was trapped; he was trapped and he wasn't getting out. It was impossible. There was no way he was ever making it out alive -
  
  There was a movement behind him.
  
  'No. No!' His efforts renewed with a desperate fierceness. Forward, forward, forward only; never stopping, tearing through the metallic briar like a bear through thorny brambles. "[******** this."
  
  So, close. He was so close. Phoenix keened. There was less than a foot between him and salvation. Just. A little. Farther.
  
  "There she lay, looking so beautiful that he could not take his eyes off her." - Sleeping Beauty
  
  A hysterical giggle bubbled up his throat. He was out. Not by much, but just enough. He stretched his upper body to the limit, his arm straining, pulled tight in its socket. His fingertips were brushing the smooth glass of the syringe. 'Come to me.' Phoenix willed the needle. 'Come to me. Come to me.' The test tube hold tilted backwards.
  
  "No! Please. Oh, please, please, please, please." Phoenix begged. His fingers caught along the edge. By the very skin of his fingertips he was able to drag the syringe toward him. With a triumphant half-shout, half-laugh he grasped the syringe, hand quivering from pain and excitement. Life! It was in his hands. Careless of air bubbles or wrapping his arm to stem blood flow to his upper arm, he removed the needle and jabbed the syringe into his left arm, inserting the liquid into his body with a push of his fingers.
  
  It was over.
  
  "Throughout the castle, everyone and everything woke up and looked at each other with astonished eyes." - Sleeping Beauty
  
  And like a magic wand had been waved, Phoenix suddenly came back to himself. He... had just condemned another human being to death. Behind him, Toma was still struggling with the barbed wires entrapping his body.
  
  "Don't. Don't struggle." Phoenix gasped out. "You'll only just get more stuck."
  
  And then, with a feeling like a stone in his stomach, Phoenix realized that as the winner, he'd have to make his way through the thicket a second time.
  
  "Happily Ever After"

[Legacy Forgotten]

• @info: phoenix thompson. punish. reply. 1054 words. 12/15/12.
  
  Phoenix couldn't breathe. He was panting, gasping for air, but it felt like less and less oxygen was making its way into his lungs. His body was trembling, but whether from cold, adrenaline, or pure fury, he couldn't tell. His hands were the worst, quaking with irregular tremors and his fingers twitching. He clenched his hands into fists in an effort to stop the shaking. He needed to... He needed to... He needed... Toma. Toma. He needed... Kill Toma. He needed to kill Toma. He needed to kill Toma. He needed to kill Toma.
  
  Phoenix advanced on the brunette. It could be easy. Toma was getting up, but he was disoriented, all it would take was a blow to the head, something to knock him unconscious, and then. And then. Then he could take one of the pillows, perhaps, and smother the other male. It wouldn't take much, just place it over Toma's face, apply a little pressure, hold for ten minutes. Toma wouldn't even feel his life ending; it would be just like drifting to sleep... forever.
  
  But something encased him in its hold, and he was falling falling falling. He landed on the something, its solid body, and the wounds on Phoenix's back screamed. It hurt. It hurt. He couldn't move, his arms were pinned, he was paralyzed. Escape. Toma loomed over him and Phoenix was being pulled back, dragged, like prey into the predators den. Panicked, he struggled against the hold, kicking out his legs, but it wasn't much use: he was still spent from just the squabble in the bathroom with Toma. He was doing it again... hyperventilating. He hadn't won the trial to die. He hadn't won the trial to die. 'I pinky promised!'
  
  The being trapping him from behind spoke up. With a sudden shock, Phoenix stilled. That voice was Lee. Lee was holding him. Lee was safe and making sure Phoenix didn't hurt himself. Safe. They were okay. It felt like everything had righted itself in Phoenix's mind. It was like an invisible line was drawn across the hotel room floor. An invisible barrier that couldn't be crossed. Lee and Phoenix were on one side and Toma was on the other. Just as it should be.
  
  "Just stay away from me."
  
  And Phoenix wanted to scream. '[******** you. Go away. Disappear. You goddamned ******** son of a b***h.'
  
  Silence.
  
  Lee and Phoenix were alone again. Phoenix could hear his own breathing. Except it sounded less like breathing and more like a wheezing hiss. It was freezing in the room - but then, it was just that Phoenix was still wet, wasn't it? He was slumped onto Lee again, limp, weak, unwilling to move. He was just so tired. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted his bed; he wanted Carmina on the other side of the room, talking in her sleep; he wanted Fletcher waking the dead with his snores in the room opposite; he wanted, he wanted, he wanted. He wanted this to end. Phoenix let his eyes drift closed, content to just lay there like a rag doll. Somewhere beyond his bubble, someone was walking heavy, angry steps. It could be anyone. Everyone was pissed. Everyone was a victim.
  
  "AHEM"
  
  Hazel eyes wearily drew open to take in the figure just outside the room. In the doorway was the girl he had woken in the other room, where Phoenix had first woken, where all this nightmare began. That girl was crossing over his bubble's threshold, crossing over the imaginary line, crossing through the barrier into his territory. It sent Phoenix's heart rate rocketing again. He could only stare at the young woman with an expression of shock and worry. She was screaming and the words hardly made any sense to him. What was going on? What... what? Everyone was pissed. Everyone was a victim.
  
  The girl - Serena, was her name? - she was stalking closer. Like a tigress she held them in her gaze and she had a glare to kill.
  
  What...? Why was she saying those things? Monster. Animal. Savage. Caveman. b***h. Stupid. Ugly. Coward. Failure. Everything was wrong with Phoenix.
  
  She was right.
  
  A cardboard cylinder hit him square in the head. Phoenix didn't even try to fight back. He was a bad as she was. Monster. He was turning into a killer. He had already killed Toma. That was who she was talking about, wasn't it? It made sense. They must be friends. Or perhaps more. It didn't matter. Phoenix was a killer. He had killed Toma; took his life. Toma's life was flowing through Phoenix's veins. Ahhh that must be why it kept dripping out every surface of Phoenix's body - the life was stolen. Wasn't that a saying? Once you steal something, you spend your whole life fighting to keep it? Hm, life.
  
  A kick came flying at him, but he didn't care. Monsters deserved no better, right? Everyone was pissed. Everyone was a victim. But Phoenix was a monster. And monsters were eradicated.
  
  Hands wrapped around his throat, fingernails scraped into the delicate flesh. Phoenix didn't do anything. Until... she squeezed... and then.... he couldn't... breathe. He made to gasp, but the hands crushing around his wind-pipe prevented any air to travel into his lungs. It was like sucking on a clogged straw, he could feel his throat constricting. The action suddenly held much more weight, more reality. What was he thinking? What the ********? His hands came up to clutch and scrabble at Serena's own smaller ones. His eyes were wide, bulging, he could see every detail of the girl's tear-stained face. ********. ********. He could feel his body trying to pull any breathe in. Anything. His lungs rattled and clicked with the force. ********. A horrible gurgling wheeze outwards. He needed air in. ********. There were spots forming in his left eye. His hands were still scrambling to pull Serena off, but he was losing feeling. He was so numb. There were pins and needles in his left arm. The world was going black. He couldn't... his arms were sliding down to his sides. It was a good thing he was being held up, because he couldn't hold himself up. Vertigo seized him. The world tipped on it's side. The world was a fuzzy blob.
  
  'I must be dying.'
  
  What....?

[Legacy Forgotten]

• @info: jamie greene. montebleu high school. intro. 738 words. 11/24/12.
  
  James was busy unpacking his things into the various drawers and spaces of his dorm. In a dresser he had filled the top drawer with shirts, the middle drawer with underwear, socks, and pajamas, and the bottom drawer with his pants and shorts. His nightstand was filled with a photo album and other memorabilia. The desk had been stuffed with pens, pencils, paper, stapler & staples, five notebooks, a hole-puncher, erasers, and so on and so forth. The desktop was covered with his laptop computer and an organizer with Hello Kitty stationary and pens. In the space underneath, James had tossed his boots and sandals to keep them out of the way until he though of a better place for them. In the background, Noah and the Whale played a catchy tune as he straightened the buttercup yellow comforter on his bed.
  
  You, the reader, may be wondering why James was currently unpacking his room, an entire day after he had arrived at Montebleu High School. The answer was simple: in the very small amount of time he had spent at his new school, he and his roommate had already had a small disagreement, just a differing of opinions, really. His roommate just wasn't very tolerant of another male whose preferences in decor lay in clearly feminine fields. It was no problem really; they just weren't very compatible. And so James was moved from the dorm and into a new one. And what a nice dorm it was! It was so much bigger than any room he'd ever lived in during his eighteen years of life, even considering that he would be sharing the dorm with another person. So much space there was even room for a living space with TV and couches. There was even a mini-fridge in the room! He'd have to get some ice cream to keep in there for his late-night munchies.
  
  James took a step back from his work as the final wrinkle on the floral embroidered comforter was smoothed to perfection with a satisfied sigh. He took a look around the clean room with pride; not many could put an entire room to order as quickly as he did. But one thing did bother him about the room: it was just so... fancy. It was clearly meant to cater to the upper class students that attended the school, but to James it just felt oddly wrong. Perhaps it was just that he was so used to living on the so-called 'other side of the tracks'. True, it was nice to have such luxury for once in his life, but at the same time it seemed too frivolous and fanciful to be taken seriously. Now that he thought about it, maybe that explained all the ridiculous things the wealthy seemed to get themselves into: even they couldn't take themselves seriously. What a strange thought.
  
  With his paraphernalia unpacked and organized, James had little to do. The club meeting of the day was taken up by cooking activities and all the people he had talked to earlier that day in class had ended up in detention or were otherwise preoccupied. It was a classic case of boredom and James was never one to stay sequestered in his room when there were opportunities to socialize outdoors. Thus, James found himself in the halls exploring a larger-than-life campus, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now. As he wandered, James found himself cataloging the students he passed: nice legs, cute butt, pretty hair, desperate, big tits, large muscles, intense eyes, ohhh that one was a hottie. (This was another upside to his new school: a new 'feeding ground' and oh so many good-looking people to choose from.)
  
  Pretty soon he had made it to an empty hallway where curiosity got the better of him and he began opening doors. 'Ohhh, indoor pool~.' James thought in excitement, staring at the undisturbed water. It looked so cool and inviting, he just had to take a swim - but he hadn't brought any swimwear with him. There was a long moment James spent gazing at the water, considering before he began to strip. It was only skinny-dipping and no one would notice if he was only in the water for a few moments, right? That was his final thought before he kicked his uniform to the side and dived into the deep-end of the pool with a whoop.

[Legacy Forgotten]

• @info: jamie greene. montebleu high school. reply. 2385 words. 04/29/13.
  
  Lee's refusal was like a punch to the gut; not because it hurt or anything like that, but because it was blunt and completely unexpected and it knocked Jamie completely off balance. Jamie was trying to be amicable. It was weird and awkward and maybe Jamie didn't like Lee, because god he was so blind to what he had, but at least Jamie was trying. If only for Jack's sake. But Lee was making it very difficult to even tolerate his presence. Jamie was sincere in his offer to let Lee just forget about helping clean up and leave it to Jack and Jamie, the real culprits. Did Lee really have to have that sharp, biting tone? The blonde looked back to Jack, hoping for some kind of direction in how to approach this situation, but the Jap had already closed himself off from the world via his headphones. Like ice, the cold stirring of panic branched out from his lungs and to the rest of his chest. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to do. He never knew what to do.
  
  While Lee started toward the mess the they needed to clean up with Jack following a short ways behind, Jamie lagged behind the two at a more sedate pace. There were too many conflicting thoughts going on in the blonde's head. Did he keep with the friendly chatter? Did he butt out and let Jack and Lee handle this on their own? Jack was useless at the moment and Lee... Lee was just... 'He thinks I stole his boyfriend. It was a realization that came to him slowly, but quickly gave Jamie pause. Lee thought that Jack and Jamie were together, he knew about that incident earlier, could smell Jamie on Jack, could infer that Jack and Jamie had spent the night together. Lee thought that Jamie had stolen his boyfriend. And he would be right, too, wouldn't he? Even if the entire thing had been a hoax, Jack and Jamie pretending, Lee didn't know that and then the thing with the shower that afternoon... Hadn't Jamie been saying it earlier? It was all muddled and twisted and worst of all it was Jamie who had screwed things up. It was all Jamie's fault. At the back of the group, Jamie could observe the two Asians in front of him; he almost cringed at the noticeable distance. Hadn't they been close? Jack made it seem that way. At the very least, they had been dating and yet in the course of just a month they had grown that far apart. All because of Jamie. No. That wasn't right. Lee had broken up with Jack before Jamie had ever come up with the plan. The plan wouldn't even have been put in place if Jack had needed a reason to win back Lee. This set up was just fine. Jack would get over Lee eventually. And if Lee wasn't going to fight for Jack, then Jamie was going to take him.
  
  Timeskip ❥
  
  That had been two weeks ago, exactly. The fourteen days following the New Years 'incident' had passed slowly for the blonde, and though they weren't bad per se, there was nothing that suggested they were good either. After Jack had suggested splitting the work days, Jack and Jamie had left the scene of the crime tense and agitated. They ended up postponing the movie night they had planned; neither was feeling up to it after all the emotional exhaustion from the day. Another shower and both were in bed and out for the count. Things just seemed to get more awkward from there, with Jamie not knowing how to act around Jack anymore, Jack wanting space to sort himself out, and then Jack's roommate turned out to be Riley. That was quite the scene: Jamie had ended up freezing and stammering and eventually shying away from the situation itself. As if his life couldn't get any more complicated with the drama between Jack and Lee and himself, Riley just had to be thrown into the mix. Jamie's relationship with Riley probably shouldn't have been so hard to describe. They were friends with benefits, simple, uncomplicated. Or at least it should have been. Just like with Jack, things with Riley were tangled. Before Jamie's ploy with Jack, Riley was a good friend, more than a fling, less than a stable romantic relationship, and the one Jamie turned to (for anything, really.) But with the beginning's of the plan in motion, Jamie had started spending less and less time with Riley and more and more time with Jack, until his life seemed to revolve around Jack and barely saw his Australian friend anymore. Needless to say, confronted with that, Jamie felt terrible, guilty, the worst friend on the planet, and maybe even worse, none of that mattered enough for him to apologize. In fact, when he had first realized Riley was Jack's roommate, Jamie had shriveled and withdrawn. It didn't help that the time between the start of the plan and New Year's Day was marked by Jamie's abstinence (Jack and Jamie were pretending to be a real couple, and though Jamie might be considered a lose person, it was his own code to never, ever have more than one person at a time.) Riley. Riley was almost a perfect personification of the time before. If Jamie hung around, it'd be like a relapse, a regression. So Jamie avoided him.
  
  It didn't help.
  
  Wednesday afternoon saw Jamie sitting on top of one of the desks in the History classroom, valiantly trying to finger comb his hair into something presentable. For the past couple of days, Jamie had been coming every couple of days or so to do favors for Kato for his community service (Seventy-two hours! That's. 72. Hours. How Jack was able to get away with finishing his full week of community service, Jamie didn't know, other than Jamie was simultaneously trying to salvage his tanking History grade.) With an irritated sigh, the blonde gave up fussing with his hair and instead set about fixing his clothes. His uniform was all out of place: the tie was loose and skewed, his shirt was partially un-tucked, and the knees of his pants were covered with dust. The navy uniform jacket was removed and tucked away in his bag, out of sight. Across the room, he could hear Kato doing the same. Jamie finished with himself and reached into the front pocket of his Hello Kitty backpack to pull out a couple breath mints and his Community Service Log. Glancing behind himself to the History teacher, Jamie slid from the tabletop and made his way through the rows of desks to the front before handing off the form. The blonde shifted his weight several times while waiting, eyes roaming everywhere in the classroom but to the man in front of him. The sound of a pen being set down drew Jamie's attention back to the desk. He slid the paper back toward himself, folded it, and packed it back away in his bag. Pasting a false grin on his face, Jamie spun on his heel to the door, chiming "Thank you, Kato-sensei~~" He ignored the salacious smirk Kato sent his way.
  
  Out in the hall, Jamie sent off a text Jack's way informing him that Jamie had officially finished off his community service. Then, the blonde headed off to his dorm to shower and change. Yorick wasn't there, for which Jamie was eternally grateful. He freely stripped down to nothing, tossing all his laundry into a basket, including the uniform jacket, which he pulled from his bag with a two-finger touch as if it held a contagious disease. Before he could get much further in his freshening up, his phone pinged at him. Jamie excitedly jumped at the chance to check the message, almost certain it was Jack. If there was one person who could turn his mood around, it was Jack. To Jamie: 'Community service? More like self service~ surprised ur not doing overtime. howd it go this time? Learn any new lessons with Mr.LolliPopper? (; (;' Jamie froze. He knew it was just Jack being Jack, but that didn't stop it from stinging. Jack of all people should know how he felt about it. Jamie knew it was just a joke. It was supposed to be funny. Why'd it make him feel so disgusting? There was a bad taste in his mouth that only made him think about... His skin was crawled with how wrong it felt. "Jack... you d**k." Biting his lip, Jamie sent a text back to Jack, trying to keep the teasing tone from Jack's own message. As if... it didn't even matter.
  
  'Hahaha BD I can show you sometime if you like (;'
  
  Tossing the phone down on the bed, Jamie returned to his previous tasks. He brushed his teeth vigorously, showered, brushed his hair, meticulously changed into a fresh set of clothing, and left on his glasses instead of contacts (because... Jack had liked them). Done with that, Jamie grabbed the Community Service Log and made his way to the front office, where he turned it in. After that, Jamie headed for the cafe, set for some comfort food. Standing in the line, he ordered a hot fudge sundae and waited patiently while other orders were filled before his own. Sighing, his blue eyes scanned over the cafe, hoping for an empty table somewhere. There wasn't much, but then that was only normal, since the cafe seemed to be a prime hang out for all the students - slap!
  
  And then he was jolted out of his thoughts by a sudden sharp smack to his a**. With a yelp, Jamie turned on the culprit, who first was trying to act suave about the encounter, but then ended up just making a general a** out of himself. A shock of green hair grabbed Jamie's attention; his eyes narrowed, because that could only mean one thing. Aaron. Jamie only briefly knew him, from the cabaret and on Christmas and from small encounters through Jack, but Jamie couldn't care less about getting to know the other. He was rude and lazy and thoughtless and down-right weird and now this incident; the less Jamie saw of him the better. But it was not to be. After backtracking over himself several times and overall digging himself a bigger hole, Aaron couldn't leave well enough alone: he just had to invite Jamie over to his table. "N-yyyyyeee. Fine." The rejection he had meant to spat somehow morphed into an acceptance without his permission. Wide eyes latched onto the other's form, half wanting to just run away in mortification. Even though Jamie had full control over his own limbs, it felt like being dragged. He didn't want to go. Not at all. His sundae and 'free drink' courtesy of the green-haired boy were handed over by the cafe staff and a mildly chewed gift card was presented to him by Aaron. Jamie was just confused. Aaron made it clear he wasn't looking for any action with Jamie except, why did it feel like he was still hitting on him? Giving him gifts... Making him sit with him... Maybe it was a ploy... No! Jamie frantically swept those thoughts aside and, begrudgingly, the blonde followed the other to a nearby table where a cheery girl sat reserving the seats.
  
  Jamie sat down heavily, as if a million tons of weight had been added to his shoulders in the past few minutes. Maybe it had. Jamie didn't really know anymore. Maybe it was just the day. Or the week. Or everything in general. But he just felt so. Blah. Like someone had sucked the color out of life. The blonde avoided looking at either of his two companions, simply sending an acknowledging nod to the girl across from him and digging into his chocolate fudge without any of his usual enthusiasm. He just... couldn't seem to muster up the same enjoyment he normally had for the treat. And heaven knew how much he loved chocolate. It was bad. Real bad. Despite sitting right next to the two, nothing of Aaron and his friend's conversation reached him until the blonde girl spoke up to him. It took a moment to register that she was talking to him, but he did manage to perk a little in regards to her. ....Pretty.... Sparkled? Any other day, Jamie'd probably taken it as a compliment. She thought he was attractive. He should be flattered. He was flattered. Mildly. But... Kato. Aaron. This girl. When they looked at him, was that all they saw? He was pretty? Was he really that shallow? Was that all he was to other people? Was... was he only good for his body?
  
  "I -" Whatever he had been about to say caught in his throat. That prickling at the bridge of his nose... he was going to cry? The American grit his teeth in an effort to hold it back. He wasn't going to cry in front of a stranger. And especially not in front of Aaron. Jamie didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Inadvertently, Jamie didn't blink while trying to keep from tearing up. And his hitched voice; he attempted to cover it by drinking whatever beverage Aaron had ended up buying him, but of course not really tasting it. That brief moment gave him just enough time to compose what little of himself he had, and by then, their table was accompanied by a kindred soul, Hana. Jamie only knew Hana superficially. They shared classes and had the same kind of talk circulate about them, but otherwise, they had never had a really deep conversation. Still, having Hana (who slept around as much as, if not more than, Jamie) felt like suddenly gaining a supporter. Like. Receiving a foundation. Something to solidify him. That. That was nice. A small (if fake) smile found its way onto Jamie's face as he turned his attention back to Angel. "Thank you. I do try. It's not easy being beautiful~" He tossed his hair, just for show and for humor's sake.
  
  Under the table, Jamie prodded at the newcomer to the little group. "Hey, Hana. How's it going?"

[Legacy Forgotten]

• @info: jamie greene. montebleu high school. end game. 1343. 01/24/14.
  
  "You're not good for him. You're not good for anyone." That single sentence echoed in Jamie's mind as he moved briskly through the halls of Montebleu High School. He was seething, hot and bubbling just beneath the surface. ...No, he wasn't. He was quaking, heartbeating wildly, breath coming out in little panicked gasps, fingers trembling and searching for something to hold fast to for comfort. ...No, he wasn't. He was fighting tears, the constricting pain in his throat. He was - He didn't even know what he was supposed to be feeling right now. Each step he took put him closer to Lee, closer to... what? What was he really going to do? Why did he... Each step made him waver just a little bit more. He wanted to turn and run, leave the school, never be seen again; he wanted to storm right out the double doors, hold the gun in his pants against Lee's head, make him beg for his life. He wanted to go back to his room, get under the covers, and stay there forever. He wanted Jack to never leave him.
  
  He reached the end of the hallway at last, pressed against the door that led to the outside, and stepped into the abrupt sunlight that met his unsuspecting eyes. Jamie paused just on the other side of the doorway, blinking against the light while his eyes adjusted. The door clacked closed behind him. From here, the sounds of the school festival could be heard: a cacophony of loud voices mixed into a hodgepodge of shrieks, laughter, and chatter. The tall silhouette of the Ferris wheel loomed overhead. His heartbeat redoubled in his chest; he was going to be sick. What was he doing? He knew what he was doing. Like a tide, he could feel his resolve ebb and flow. What was once solid felt like it was crumbling beneath the weight of rationality, only to be built up just as quickly. I don't want to do this. I need to do this. I just want to scare him...
  
  As the glare diminished from his eyes, Jamie discovered Kise just to his left, leaning against the wall there, nonchalantly. He seemed to be in thought, the Japanese boy's eyes staring off into some distant point ahead of him, no particular care shown in his face. Jamie's fingers curled in on themselves, fingernails pressing half-moons into the flesh of his palms. Then, just like that, he was loose, heart still pounding against his rib cage, but outwardly looking for all the world as if it were nothing more than a normal day. A smile scraped across his face, sitting there heavily, unnaturally, but unnoticeable-y so if one was only looking at it alone. And then, Jamie skipped to stand by the taller boy's side.
  
  "Hi, Kise." Red eyes shifted down to Jamie's; a jolt rocked through the blond-haired American. Could Kise tell? Did he know? He felt as if the crime was written all over his face for Kise to read, right now, he was seeing it, he knew, he knew. There were knots in his stomach again. Antsy, Jamie shifted his weight from one foot to another. He hid his growing panic with another smile, the quivering in his throat with a cheerful chime in his voice. "What're you doing out here all by yourself?" He inquired in mock playfulness. "C'mon." He grabbed both of Kise's sleeves and tugged exuberantly, even as Kise made to protest. "Ah-ah. No buts. Let's go to the festival. You're a member of the Tech Club, aren't you supposed to be there anyway?" With that, Jamie linked their arms together and dragged the dark-haired boy toward the festivities.
  
  They walked side-by-side, Jamie reflexively chattering away about nothing at all. "Hmm, I wonder what kind of rides they have other than the Ferris wheel. Hehe, would you go on that one with me, Kise? Jack couldn't come because he's sick... Oh, we could get some funnel cake - " And so on and so on. He was filling in empty spaces; he was acting out his part, this was what was expected of him. Dingy, talkative. Happy, without a care in the world. All the while, Jamie couldn't help but flinch whenever he accidentally pressed a little too closely next to Kise's body, fearful that he feel the solid object at his back. ...What was he hoping to accomplish, suddenly bringing Kise along? Stop me... Notice me... Help me. Internally, Jamie begged for Kise to call him out on his strange behavior, force him to talk it out, hell, even shoving Jamie to floor and beating him would be preferable to whatever was about to happen if he didn't. But nothing happened. Nothing was going to keep him from doing this; the world wasn't going to rearrange itself to stop Jamie. A surge of power and fright overcame him as the pair came to stand in the ticket entrance line.
  
  "Hey, Kise." The blond said, more slowly than he had when he had just been senselessly talking Kise's ear off. His blue eyes were fixated at the front of the ticket line, where a shock of white had caught his attention. Lee and two other girls, Eve and Ari, could be seen there, standing together. He worried his bottom lip in between his teeth. "I'm going to do something really stupid." Jamie turned his attention back up to Kise, face suddenly serious in contrast to his earlier behavior. "Can you tell Jack I'm sorry for me?" With his hands behind his back (lifting up his sweater, grasping the gun beneath, fingering the safety), Jamie balanced on tip-toe and pressed a quick kiss onto Kise's cheek before pulling away and breaking from the line. The gun was revealed from the back of his pants; he held it up, closed his eyes, opened them, aimed.
  
  Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at the same time. He was dizzy and flushed, the way you would be after running a marathon or after your first kiss. But this was neither of those. He couldn't breathe, the air was stuck in his lungs, burning painfully, insistently. Squeeze. He didn't hear the gun let off, but he could feel it in the recoil, even as he reflexively squeezed out another round, another, another. He couldn't breathe - then he could, a great gasp like a dying man, but no, he wasn't the one dying, it was - Oh god. There were people screaming, shrieking, it was too loud, too piercing. That was red - Red all over. That was - what had happened. Where was - Lee was on the ground. No, not just Lee. He could see three, three, three, red, blood. Oh, god. He had killed Lee. Oh my god. He had shot Eve and Ari. Innocent girls. They were - what was that- Red. They were - He felt sick, he was going to be sick. Oh my god, oh my god. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. A mantra in his head. Jamie doubled over and gagged. I'm sorry. Everything was blurring and spinning out of control, there was too much movement, people were scurrying and knocking into him. He realized abruptly that he should run. But he didn't move. His blood roared. He couldn't feel his hands anymore. He was numb. He was trembling with unused adrenaline, a mild tingling that ended at his fingertips. He had dropped the gun...
  
  And then there was a body barreling into his, he was on the ground, but he wasn't getting up. He could see it, not too far away, but far enough he couldn't touch, but only see. Lee grasping at a wound pooling blood (red), Eve and Ari on either side, but they weren't getting up, they weren't moving - no, no, no, no - this wasn't supposed to happen. (He barely even recognized what had once been Arielle Rosabelle.) No. Jamie didn't move. He couldn't move. The world moved around him and he ignored it, closed his eyes, prayed to disappear.
  
  What have I done.

[Legacy Forgotten]

• @info: jamie greene. to the stars. intro. 812 words. 01/10/13.
  
  'This is it.'
  
  He was leaving everything behind. Starting new. Fresh. He was... going to forget. All of the previous year. Everything. Lee and Kise... Jack. The rivalry... the infatuations... the whirlwind of emotions. The fall. It was time to let everything go. James passed under wall-length windows and under skylights shining the golden beams from the sun outside. He passed people young and old and busy and weighed down with luggage. He held tight to his carry-on bag as they boarded the plane. Sequestered in a window seat, James leaned his face against the cool glass as they lifted off and watched as Los Angeles grew small and disappeared beneath him.
  
  Timeskip❥
  
  Touch-down in Alaska. Unsurprisingly, it was snow. Everywhere. It was snow. Everything was blanketed in white, like a fresh sheet spread over the world. Quiet, except for the soft crunch beneath his boots. He had dressed warmly, but the frigid air still bit into his skin. Why was he here? Anywhere else would do. He hated snow... So why Alaska? He wasn't even really sure. It was a change for sure, though it reminded him too much of a certain Japanese winter. But no... this silence. It was far from the chaotic streets of Japan during the Christmas season, with crowds and people wandering in various states of intoxication. It was nothing like the festivals. It was... peaceful. This silence. It would consume him. He wanted it to. He needed it to envelope him so like the flowers in spring he could be born anew.
  
  But why Alaska again? He was hardly sure. After a rather unfortunate tumble off the roof of Montebleu High School in Tokyo, Japan (yes, an odd name for a Japanese school) Jamie had been approached by a stranger. A stranger that tried to tell James he was a member of the Western zodiac (or something there abouts) and the proof was branded onto Jamie's skin in the form of a birthmark and his brush with death. Personally, James found it rather disturbing that a stranger knew about any kind of birthmark of his, let alone a tiny discoloration in the shape of a Roman Numeral two on his inner thigh. James was skeptical. But he couldn't stop thinking about the near one-sided conversation. It was one of his vices, this inability to remove an idea from his brain once it roosted there. What would happen? If he up and left everything, what would happen? If he ignored life, if he just threw all his other plans away, what would happen? It pained him to even ponder it, but like a year ago, he needed to know. This. He needed this.
  
  And so here he was; James was traipsing about the Alaskan wilderness surrounded by white like his own personal asylum. He must have been insane to have forgone any other form of transportation. But it was another of his radical ideas that had overtaken him. It had made perfect sense at the time. If he walked to this Olan Landers house, then he would get a better feel of the land. Never mind that it was miles away and James could barely get from point A to point B if he walked a straight line. All he'd had to do was follow the path up to the secluded house, but somewhere along the line the path had been eaten by snow and all he'd had left to go by was the gap in the pillowed evergreen trees that seemed to shrink with each yard he progressed. It seemed he was lost. Maybe. Probably. Most likely.
  
  There was powder in his hair. His breath came out in little puffs in front of him. The chilly air gnawed at his glove-less fingers and soaked into the fabric of his jeans. His luggage hung from each hand in addition to the carry-on bag over his shoulder. They had kept getting caught in the deeper snow, so he'd had to resort to just carrying them. This was too cold. What in the world had he been thinking? Stupid, Jamie. He was going to die out here, a human popsicle. Maybe he'd be eaten by a bear. How embarrassing. But maybe, at the very least, he'd make headlines: "Body found after winter thaw." Yep, that was him.
  
  Somewhere ahead, something moved across the path. James froze. Oh god, maybe it was a bear. Dear lord in heaven, he hadn't been serious! But the shape was much smaller than what one would expect of a bear. And it looked more... human. A yeti? No, wait, it was a person, an actual, live person! Jamie wanted to sob with relief; he wasn't going to die.
  
  "Hey! You there! I need help." The end came out as a desperate whine. He didn't care, as long as it got him somewhere warm. "Please!"

[Legacy Forgotten]

• @info: jamie greene. to the stars. reply. 1259 words. 02/14/13.
  
  Jamie was glad he didn't have to actually voice anything with this girl. She seemed able to read all the visual cues that went with body language or something like that, because she just plowed right on with conversation despite the lack of response. Her ability to confidently keep her spirits up even though Jamie clearly wasn't going to respond to any of her chatter did help Jamie put a real smile on his face, if only a small one. She sort of vaguely reminded him of another girl that used to always be accompanied by the one friend he still kept in touch with from Montebleu. Eve and Arielle (funny that she shared a name with the girl that had saved him from the snow) were always together and Ari, the smaller of the two, had always been just as much a jabber box as Aria was - the similarities were astounding. And even though it brought a few unwanted memories to the surface, it also brought the happier memories to the surface. Jamie could appreciate that, at least. So, all the way from their shared room to the dining room downstairs, Jamie let Aria fill the empty spaces with her own voice, just letting the cheerful tones of her voice slide over him.
  
  When they entered the dining room, there were already two girls, Bell, from the night before, and another, a dark-haired Latina, finding their own breakfasts. Aria, naturally, spent no time wasted in greeting their 'fellow zodiac'. Conversation from there was a tad... stilted. It was uncomfortable being forced to sit around all these people that obviously didn't really relate to each other. It was made even worse when Arielle and Vergil entered the dining room. Sure, Vergil was perfectly polite when the two entered, but it was obvious to anyone looking that Arielle probably rather be anywhere but stuck in a room full of strangers. Arielle's clear discomfort, the new girl's just as obvious displeasure, Bell's silence, Vergil's cordial manner, and Aria's vain attempts to salvage the situation - it all just seemed too much like the dining room had shrunk since the night before and everyone was knocking elbows with each other. If three was a crowd, what did that make six? And to top it off, despite the suffocating atmosphere emanating from the others, there was an oddly calming presence surrounding the table. The total dichotomy was beginning to give him a headache.
  
  Scrubbing his face tiredly with both hands, Jamie sat next to Aria and began filling his plate. Despite not having eaten much the night before, Jamie wasn't truly hungry. There was an immense selection of breakfast foods set about the table - from simple toast to bacon and sausages to English muffins, ham, eggs, and Hollandaise sauce for Eggs Benedict. It was all very lavish and the food was clearly rich to the palette without ever having to taste anything. The thought of such intense flavors hitting his tongue that early in the morning sort of turned the blonde's stomach. Instead of helping himself to the more exorbitant options laid on table, Jamie placed half a bagel and a few strawberries onto his plate and tried to quietly nibble on his breakfast. Maybe it was inevitable, maybe not, but very quickly the mood hanging over the table just... exploded. It was the Latina girl who finally burst, snapping over Aria's chittering and hissing at Arielle beside her. Brows furrowed at the sudden outburst, Jamie frowned at the new arrival. His arrival the day before had been bad enough, but his morning was just getting worse and worse. Under his breath, but loud enough it was clear he didn't care who heard, Jamie mumbled, "God, what a b***h." Sliding his chair back from the table, Jamie stood to leave. He couldn't stand to stay in this room where there the atmosphere was so thick it felt like breathing jello. Tapping Aria lightly on the shoulder, he smiled down at his roommate before leaving.
  
  "Hey, I'm just gonna go wait in the living room. Meet you there, kay?"
  
  Jamie exited the dining room, leaving his plate half-eaten on the table. Out in the hall, Jamie stopped and leaned against the wall briefly, closing his eyes against the headache that was building behind his eyes. Alaska was supposed to be an escape; why then did this feel more and more like a prison? This whole thing was just beginning to feel like one big mistake all over again. 'Way to go Jamie. Plan A, B, and C have failed. Whatcha gonna do now?' With a mighty sigh, Jamie pushed away from the wall and and continued his path down the hallway into the living room. Olan Landers, a.k.a. Mr. Creep, was already occupying the room. He seemed to have been doing some kind of work on the window - it looked exactly as it had the day before, except there was a pane of glass leaned off to one side covered with duct tape around the edges. Jamie raised an eyebrow as he entered the room and took a seat on one of the couches, bringing his legs up to sit cross-legged on the cushion. There was a lulled moment where Jamie felt like he should probably say something, but couldn't bring himself to. This... was almost worse than being stuck in a seemingly overcrowded room - he was alone with "Mr. Creep", the weirdo who had traveled around to find some random young people and bring them together as a zodiac family, the freak that had just showed up in his hospital room one day and offered to share all his secrets to the blonde, the stranger who somehow knew about the birthmark on Jamie's inner thigh. Awkward didn't even begin to cut it.
  
  "I - " Jamie began, but a sudden loud knock at the front door threw the blonde off from whatever he had been about to say. He literally jumped up at the chance to leave the room once again and headed for the door before the older man even had a chance to think about answering it. "Don't worry, I'll go get it!"
  
  Opening the front door, the first thing that caught Jamie's attention was the sudden shock of bright blue against the background of white spread over the rest of his vision. It was the color hair a warm summer day or the sparkling surf of the Caribbean waters might have. It was the kind of bright and clear blue you might see as hands larger than your own shove against your front, the kind you might see as you're forced to stumble back and legs catching on the edge of a too small wall, tumble over the edge of your high school rooftop; the kind, hypothetically, you'd watch slowly become all encompassing except for the smudge of white, white, white (white hair, perfect, angelic purity) and demonic red (those god-awful eyes). Hands clenching on the handle, Jamie nearly slammed the door in the newcomer's face. The blonde gave the other male a twitch of the lips that appeared less like the welcoming smile it was supposed to be and more like grimace.
  
  "Hello." Jamie spoke tersely, "You're here for Olan Landers, right? Come in." The blonde moved out of the doorway to let the other into the entrance hallway. Leading the newcomer down the hall, he said, "Um, well, we're meeting in the living room soon, but I think there's enough time for you to have breakfast... if you want."

[Legacy Forgotten]

• @info: jamie greene. to the stars. reply. 1319. 03/14/13.
  
  Even though he had resolved not to run away anymore, and that he was going to make the most out of this, Jamie's mood was taking a quick plummet again. The awkward atmosphere in the living room remained; it seemed like the only two talking to each other (civilly, at least) were Aria and Irina. And the looks he was receiving from Daniel... he didn't even know how to interpret those, but it certainly wasn't the friendly expression he had put on when they first met at the door. Jamie hung his head; he was already screwing things up and it was only Day 2 in Alaska. When Olan finally came to address them (eleven, they were missing someone... Kat... Kaz?) the blonde showed little indication that he was actually listening. As seemed the norm for the red-haired man, it was pretty much just a recap of everything, anyway. "Believe me I have a hard time convincin myself I ain't crazy from time to time." Jamie rolled his eyes with a soft snort.
  
  'You and me both, mister.' Jamie thought to himself.
  
  The speech ended and they were directed to follow the Scot to the basement below (an instant image of dank dungeons and torture devices sprang to his mind, but were quickly brushed away.) He rose from the couch with everyone else, meandering along with them at the back of the group. From off to the side, Jamie could catch some of the words spoken between Vergil and the new girl, who introduced herself as Musume. With a slight cringe, Jamie tried to ignore the speech, which was entirely in Japanese. All around there were constant reminders of his life at Montebleu (strange, to have a school with a French name located in Japan); but he had said he wasn't going to run. He wasn't running.
  
  Olan led them down flight after flight of stairs - just where were they going? The center of the Earth? Maybe this was training in and of itself - a lesson in patience, or better yet 'Why own a StairMaster when you can have a million steps in your own home?' It seemed like the odd, eccentric, frivolous logic of the extremely rich. It was with much relief that the group finally reached the bottom, especially since it meant that Jamie didn't have to keep his eyes downcast for fear of missing a step. Blue eyes roamed over the hallway they had entered - it was unexpectedly aesthetic, for a basement. In fact, it looked less like a basement and more like a modern, high-end gym. The group was led down the corridor, which was lined with doors that had symbols on them that Jamie recognized from the rooms the zodiac shared upstairs. It was obvious that the same elemental groups would be sharing these rooms for whatever training Mr. Creep had in mind, and the Scottish man said as much; still, Jamie peeped at each one, curious as to what each held. Further down the hall, they came upon a sliding glass doorway, which held a magnificent work-out room on the other side, to which Olan introduced as the 'community room'. It held just about any training equipment imaginable, an exercise buff's wet dream. Weight and treadmills and bicycle machines and balls and yoga mats and ropes and mirrors all along the wall with a beam like in a dance classroom. Jamie's eyes narrowed. It seemed by training, Mr. Creep meant less of 'training your zodiac powers' (whatever those were) but physical training. Somehow, things kept getting fishier and fishier. What were they supposed to do? They were going to be taking spin classes to prepare to save the world?
  
  Jamie gladly left back down the hall after they were dismissed, following after his dark-haired roommate toward their shared locker room. Opening his own locker beside Aria's, Jamie could only stare at the assortment. Elbow, knee, shin pads. Helmet. Just what were they going to be doing that required all this? A glance over at Aria showed she was probably wondering something along the same lines. He glanced over at the third locker - shouldn't there be a third person in the room with them? He wondered where they had gone. Sighing, he pulled out the various equipment from the locker, jolting when his hand met spandex. (Ugh, Olan really was a creep, probably some weirdo ***** con-man.) He almost began stripping right there and then, but a sudden flash back to earlier that morning fortunately stopped him. "Hah. I'll just... go change in a different room." He made the change quickly, uncomfortable in the fact that he was wearing spandex but at least it wasn't really different from wearing leotards when he still danced. Speaking of, as he exited the room, safety pads all attached and helmet left off, Jamie experimented with stretching in the new material. No, not much different at all. He approached Aria, who suggested they move on to their training room, before showing him the assortment of weapons kept in their locker room. Jamie stared at the objects, a small variety of staffs, javelins, and some kind of sword, as a chill ran down his spine. This guy... he was really serious? "Uh. I don't trust myself with those. We haven't even learned the basics, right? I'm... just gonna leave those." He shrugged with a half-smile at Aria, who shrugged back and began leading them to the air room, a single staff in hand.
  
  The room was enormous, taken up in almost it's entirety with giant fans and a whole trampoline court. The ceiling was high above and with the exception of the lack of windows, it was almost too easy to forget they were underground. Aria wasted no time in tossing her unused equipment into a corner of the room and jumping right into the trampoline court. Caught off guard, Jamie released a tiny giggle at seeing the taller girl so happy and carefree. She bounced around and performed little tricks and just seemed so childish and youthful, the blonde just couldn't resist grinning in turn. It was as if her excitement was infectious. Smiling (a real smile for once, imagine that), Jamie settled onto the floor beside the court for some more leg stretches, starting in a butterfly pose and slowly working himself in the splits. Every now and again, his legs and feet would making cracking and popping noises, to which the blonde winced at. God, but it had been a long time since he had done this, not since the last time he had attended a Dance meeting at Montebleu. It felt great and horrible all at once. Jamie was more or less taken with his own thoughts and the tedious movements of stretching to pay the other air elemental much mind until she called for him to join her. He looked up, seeing her bounce in place, black hair flying all over. Shaking his head at the slight ridiculousness of it, he stood from his position on the floor, paced back a few steps, took a running start, and launched himself into the air to land with a spring on the trampoline court with her. He jumped from square to square, laughing along with her as they traded off performing various tricks, flips, twists, somersaults, and tumbles. It was with a jerk of surprise he realized he was having fun. He hadn't had this much fun in a very long time. For the first time since arriving in Alaska, he was actually glad he had come.
  
  With a mischievous smirk, he dug his heels in and jumped onto the trampoline Aria occupied just as she was preparing to bounce, purposely launching her higher into the air than she normally would. He laughed at her surprised face, tapped her lightly on the shoulder when she landed, and sprang away with a childish shriek. "Tag! You're it!"

[Legacy Forgotten]

• @info: isabella aviles. blood at box 12. intro. 1042 words. 02/19/13.
  
  She was surrounded by idiots. Grunting as she hung up the land-line with a muffled clunk, Isabella quickly scribbled something on a nearby notepad. "Chinga tu madre. ********]" Their next shipment was late and wouldn't be coming for another few days. Normally she would buy from the local grower, Redmill Ranch, but that had all gone out the window since the old geezer that ran the place finally kicked the bucket. What unfortunate timing, too. At the moment the ranch was being run by the old man's wife and several of the hired hands on the farm. Basically it was an old lady and several barely legal kids running the show over there. Now she had to deal with the growers outside the town - the very idiots that had screwed her order; needless to say Isabella was not amused. Since the old farmer's death, there had been a rumor circulating around town that the old man's grandson was coming to Estermore to take over where Old Man Redmill had left off. Isabella could only hope they were true; she needed her shipments now. But if they were, this grandson sure was taking his sweet time. The dark-haired woman pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation; she could already feel a migraine coming on and it was only the afternoon.
  
  God, but she needed a drink. Or a cigarette. Or both. Heels clacking against the hard linoleum floors, Isabella made her way from the backroom and into the front. Most of the tables were empty, which wasn't unusual, considering it was such a small town. They generally didn't get the typical 'lunch-crowd' that a place in the city would. Rather there was a sparse smattering of people - one or two at one table, occasionally several loners would group and eat together. Serena was moving about waitressing the few occupied tables in the cafe. Clacking her tongue, Isabella made her way to the girl. "You're off in ten, Ms. Cho." The Chicana said tersely. Isabella held a strong dislike for the little pink-haired girl; hell, one could almost say that Isabella acted with full blown animosity toward the other woman. There was just something about the Korean girl that rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was just the way Serena behaved, her mannerisms; maybe it was just her clothes; maybe it was even the bright pink-colored hair that reminded Isabella of cotton-candy stuck to the roof of her mouth (heavens knew the girl acted like her head was stuffed with the sweet half the time.) Whatever it was, Isabella just couldn't stand it. But despite all her misanthropy toward the younger, she nevertheless kept the girl on under her employment. Because, though Isabella only grudgingly admitted it, Serena was an amazingly good employee - very good with the customers. Damned puta.
  
  Isabella continued making her way to the bar, behind which she pulled out a bottle of Chivas Regale and poured a hearty helping of the amber liquid into a tumbler. She knocked the whiskey back, languishing in the slight burn down her throat. Exactly what she needed. This scene wasn't an unusual occurrence, her drinking from the cafe's supply during the middle of the work day - in fact by now it was just an everyday thing. Pouring herself another drink, this time to just nurse, she glanced around this hard wooden surfaces of the bar (the rest of the cafe was fashioned similarly, with a dark mahogany-imitation wood.) Isabella hadn't changed much since the cafe had been handed down to her by the previous owner; she had even kept the floral, lacy curtains, despite how much they tended to annoy her. The customers liked the atmosphere - it was warm, quaint, and homey, and it if it kept people coming back, Isabella was willing to put up with that, at least. What she was really concerned about at the moment was the new bartender from the city she had hired. It was a young girl (because she could barely be called a woman) of twenty-two, just old enough to drink herself, let alone serve them. But it turned out the blonde was familiar with alcohol and so Isabella had sought fit to hire her - at least on probationary basis. The woman didn't start her job until evenings and it was this fact that Isabella was pondering: whether or not she extend the girl's hours, because it was getting tiring to have to pour her own drinks during the day.
  
  With a heavily put upon sigh, Isabella moved from behind the counter and back out into the dining area to stand off to the side, where she could drink and watch her employees like a hawk. Fairly soon she was approached by a scruffy young blonde woman, the town gardener and cafe regular. The dark-haired woman looked down her nose at Ritz, who presented her with a potted plant with blossoms that vaguely resembled clouds. The Chicana didn't reply immediately, as at that moment an unfamiliar face (an out-of-towner, joy) entered the cafe and Isabella waved him to seat himself wherever he pleased. Returning her focus back to the shorter female in front of her, she stated blatantly, "If you didn't think I'd like it, why are you giving it to me?" The girl's response and obviously cheery attitude toward the plant had Isabella shaking her head wearily. Idiots. All of them. It didn't help that Ritz had given her random plants in the past either. It was a quirk of the girl's or something. At least she was marginally better than Serena and she didn't have to pay the girl either, especially since she offered to landscape for free. An almighty sigh escaped her once more before Isabella grudgingly accepted the plant. "Yeah, what the s**t, I'll find someplace for it."
  
  Isabella stepped around the blonde to find a place to at least appease the other until she could find a better location to keep it. She was half-way to her destination at the register when she noticed something that disturbed her. "Serena!" Isabella barked at the pink-haired girl, who was currently helping the brown-haired out-of-towner. "You're supposed to be off fifteen minutes ago. I'm not paying you overtime. Get out of here!"

[Legacy Forgotten]

• @info: isabella aviles. blood at box 12. reply. 1243 words. 04/04/13.
  
  Lunch hour had an influx of customers. First it was just the brunette kid from out of town that entered the shop, but it quickly grew to include Charlotte and Winnie, both of whom worked with the animals down at the farm on Redmill Ranch. Like everyone that frequented the café, both girls knew to just seat themselves and let one of the waiters get around to them. It wasn’t as if the café ever got all that busy in the first place. Isabella was busying herself with arranging and fluffing the flowers to her satisfaction when the two came in waving to both her and Serena. Isabella just sent an acknowledging nod their way, and despite having grumped at Serena just minutes before, she was content to allow the pink-haired girl to take over the incoming customers while she fussed over other things. All was peaceful in the cafe, until the door jingled once more to allow a tall blonde man entrance. The blonde's attitude instantly had Isabella in a fit. He was loud and disruptive and harassed her employees for service. "Sit down and behave yourself." Isabella spat as the man grinned around stupidly. Thankfully, Serena was available to take this one on. (That was one thing she respected about Serena; she could keep out-of-towners in-line whenever Isabella wasn't in the mood.)
  
  Isabella was still spitting furious as she marched away from the dining area. "No lo puedo creer! El niño llega con esa actitud y espera un descuento? Tiene suerte de que no escupir en la comida! Discount." What had she been doing before she had gone out for a drink? She had been answering the phone... but before that? She couldn't quite remember.
  
  It couldn't have been more than a few minutes that she was in the back room before she was once again summoned to the front by the horrible, infernal sound of something shattering. It was as if the universe was testing her patience today. With a muffled growl, she turned on heel and exited the back room once again, the door swinging open like one might expect in an old western movie. Her eyes swept over the many tables before they landed on a cowering figure in the back. Her gaze fixated on the pink-haired menace, eyes narrowing the second she recognized the person behind the broken glass. "Lee." He was a neighborhood troublemaker, notorious for his flirtatious attitude, and worst of all, a filthy little beggar in her bar. She approached him with all the fury of a raging bull, cursing like a sailor, regardless of all the customers around to witness the unraveling scene. "You little punk." It was difficult to understand anything she was saying, as she alternated between Spanish and English, but one thing was gotten across: that bottle on the floor was expensive and Lee was not leaving unpunished. Not only was he under-aged, but he was a dirty little thief.
  
  She would have continued her tirade for many minutes longer if the little punk did run off his smart mouth. Isabella could hardly believe she had heard correctly, but no, she knew, she knew what a nasty little s**t this boy could be. It wasn't like it was a huge secret in the town that Isabella had once been an Israel. That she had once been a he. But most people had more finesse than this. That had been a low blow. It was meant to hurt. And it did. It filled Isabella with cold, hard rage, so much so that she couldn't even speak. This little boy had no idea what he was messing with. Implying that she was a man. She was, is, and always will be a woman. From birth, she had been female. The only technicality had been that she had been born with all the wrong places. And unlike other women, she had had to fight to prove who she was. She had to claw and pitch fits and struggle to get where she was. And some little boy upset over getting caught was not going to take that away from her. Woman. Female. She. Her. That was what she was. Never anything anyone else implied.
  
  But still, Lee continued to push and prod. If she kept quiet and didn't give him the satisfaction, he only took that as winning. Give an inch and he would take a mile. "You will clean up this mess. You will pay for the bottle. And you will get out." Isabella stated firmly, only for the younger male to sass right back at her. He was digging himself a hole the size of the town. He just had no idea. Isabella couldn't say anything, couldn't do anything, but dig her manicured nails into the bar counter, otherwise she was going to explode. She was restraining herself. Lee was a minor and she most certainly did not need to be put away for assault of a minor, no matter that circumstances that led to it. Both Lee and Isabella's only saving grace at that moment was the appearance of an earlier annoyance, the new farmer that had disrupted her cafe not long before. How ironic. The blonde offered to pay and clean the mess for Lee, something that Isabella had to consider for a moment. Still silently brooding in her unbidden anger, the only response she gave was a hard glance between the two and a vague nod of acceptance to the blonde before she stalked to the back room once more.
  
  She needed... What she really needed was a smoke. Her bag was her first destination and she rifled around the contents for the rectangular packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Her hands trembled with anticipation as she held one end in her mouth and lit the other. One hand came away as she gratefully took a long drag before exhaling in a cloud of swirling gray smoke. It felt like... peace. Sweet, sweet therapy. Just a few deep breaths drawn and already the world was righting itself again. It was as if the stress exited her with each exiting breath. Isabella opened her eyes, not even having realized she had closed them. Idiots. She was surrounded by them everywhere. And off on the wrong foot with the new farmer already. ******** great.
  
  She stayed back there for a while longer, allowing herself to organize her thoughts and stuff aside all the negative emotions from the incident outside. By the time the counter bell rang, she was ready to head back out to meet the customer. "Hello, how can I help you?" The girl on the other side of the counter was a small thing (not in height, but the way she carried herself) with a tawny hair color. Isabella peered down at the girl from her increased height provided by her high-heels and awaited the girl's order. Finger food... A vein very nearly burst in Isabella's brow as all the stress that had bled away came rushing back from a single statement. Finger food.... like for babies? Finger food... as in fast food chains? Just what exactly did she look like? A mind reader? Five of everything. That said a lot. "Excuse me?" Isabella spoke with a curt smile. Newcomers. Just how many was the town getting in such a short amount of time? "Could you be more specific?"