Open RP Post

[puppiesandrazors]

↪ Pick one of my characters OR drop any character of yours in and get a random choice.
↪ Use RNG and enter 1-14 for a scene; roll again for specifics.
↪ Or cheat and just pick something.
↪ You can also just throw a picture, quote, or whatever kind of prompt you want.
↪ OPTIONAL: combine a bunch of memes and scenarios and go nuts.
↪ NOT optional: HAVE ALL THE FUN OR ELSE.
↪ Note: speed may be variable depending on game threads

Shamelessly stolen and modified from Anne who shamelessly stole and modified it from Conway. Zero regrets.

I. BED INVADERS

A. Decide you know this person! (Castmate, previous CR, etc.)

1. WAKE THEM UP. You don't care how friendly you are to the person in your bed; they need to get up.
2. PRANK! Oh, this has just got to stop. They need to be punished. But how?
3. CAN'T BEAT 'EM, JOIN 'EM. Push 'em over & snuggle up. You're too tired to deal with this craziness right now. Or sleep on your couch.
4. LET THEM SLEEP. Whatever. It's noon. They're asleep and you've got things to do. Regard them or disregard them.

B. Decide you have NO CLUE who is person is! (No CR, castmates who have never met, crosscanon, etc.)

5. SCREAM 'OMGWTFBBQ GET UP!' Really. Default action going on here.
6. PRANK! What a better way for you to remember this moment of meeting than by painting a mustachio on your new 'friend's' face? (Remember, it's your bed. Be wise what you do.)
7. GENTLY AWAKEN THEM. Oh, the poor dears! They must be exhausted, but they can't stay here. Be nice, even if it isn't IC for your character. This is what you get for rolling. Shake them up quietly. Or reroll.
8. GET TO KNOW THEM NON-BIBLICALLY. Well, they're asleep. But they left their wallet, important work, or identification out (no matter how OOC it may be)! Let's see who's REALLY sleeping in your bed. (Use your own judgment on what you find. AS a suggestion, have the most they find is the sleeper's name and maybe place of work.)
9. TIE 'EM UP. FUNCTIONAL typing up. Not kinky, no matter what the other party might think. Let them continue their blissful moment of rest. They'll answer questions later and you'll be safe and sound.

C. Decide - fuck the police. You heard. Fuck 'em.

10. YOU MOVE FORWARD AND MAKE YOUR OWN FATE.

II. ROAD TRIP

1. BREAK DOWN. Oh snap. Your car decided to break down out in the middle of nowhere. WHAT DO? Is that Leatherface? Will this be "Children of the Corn"?
2. HITCHHIKERS? Is this even a good idea? Threads may also have a third participant. Go wild.
3. WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST HIT? Dude, I hear deer mess up cars... Or I think that was a deer...
4. DON'T MAKE ME TURN THIS CAR AROUND. Alas. You're the parent or disgruntled friend who has had it up to here with all the fighting in the bakc. This thread may also have a third or even fourth participant, if you can wing it.
5. OMG, I WANT TO TAKE A PICTURE OF THIS LANDMARK! No, no, and no. You tell that person that they're going to be driven around and they're going to like it.
6. THE GREAT ESCAPE. Either dinosaurs or the mothman is chasing you. Don't stop now.
7. MAKE OUT. For whatever reason, the person you're traveling with in the car. You would love to make out with them and then some.

III. CUDDLES

1. SWEET DREAMS. It's been a long day and all you want to do is sleep or just rest your eyes for a bit. Hopefully whoever is close by doesn't mind if you use them as a blanket.
2. STORMY WEATHER. The heavy rain, thunder, and lightning won't be letting up anytime soon. Luckily, it's the perfect weather to stay indoors and snuggle up close and keep warm.
3. SLOW DANCE. It's the end of a party, or maybe it's only the two of you, but the tempo is slow and the lights are low. Let your dance partner take the weight and just sway.
4. SURPRISE ATTACK. Time to invade someone's personal sapce. Are they working too much and need a distraction? Maybe you just wanted to brighten their day. Either way, they won't see it coming.
5. MOVIE NIGHT. It can be on the sofa or in a darkened theater, but you've got your popcorn and someone to settle against during your favorite movie.
6. I LOVE YOU, MAN. It's totally platonic, really. You're just very good friends, no matter what people like to think. But you just love your friend so much you want to hug them, whether they like it or not.
7. JEEPERS CREEPERS. Welp. You were just frightened. Was it a spider in the washroom, a ghost in the attic, a bad dream? Either way, you're looking for someone to cling to right now, and who better than that person right there?
8. HURT AND COMFORT. Whether you're sick in bed, just been dumped, or suffered a traumatic event, you need someone to wrap their arms around you and make everything go away.
9. SUNDAY MORNING. Maybe you just had a wild night. Maybe there's just not enough space at your place and you need to share your bed. Or maybe you just got really tired and someone else happened to be there. Doesn't matter because now the person with you looks way more comfortable than any blanket or pillow. Drape to your heart's content.
10. MOMENT AFTER. You just had incredible, vigorous sex and if you weren't a cuddler before, you are now. You're probably too exhausted to do anything else anyway. Just enjoy the moment.
11. MENAGE A TROIS. Or four, or five. Get a group and cuddle away.
12. PLAYER'S CHOICE. Pick one or make up your own!

IV. HURT/COMFORT

1. INJURY. You've been injured. Broken bones or bleeding out or maybe just a tiny little papercut. The choice is yours.
2. SICKNESS. You're sick and laid up in bed, at home or in a hospital. The severity is up to you.
3. FEAR/ANXIETY. Something is happening and you're scared beyond belief.
4. LOSS OF SENSES. Sight, touch, taste, hearing, smell, etc. You've lost some important sense or ability and now you're left to deal with it.
5. DESPAIR. Nothing is good or right anymore and you can't shake the depression. Maybe that friend of yours can help though.
6. MAKE UP. Fight or break up, it's time to make up.
7. RESCUED. You've just been held captive and/or tortured for however long and finally, someone has come to the rescue.
8. BAD ROMANCE. Fight, cheat on, abuse, whatever the case is, someone else can clearly see you need comfort from someone who isn't your terrible lover tonight.
9. LOSS. You've experienced a loss of some kind and need help getting through it.

V. FIGHT

1. FISTFIGHT. Straight-up, unfussy, no-holds-barred facepunching. Clearly you're emotionally invested in this argument. Or maybe you want some stress relief.
2. BAR FIGHT. Someone's had one too many drinks. Curses are being slurred, bottles are being smashed. Just don't be surprised if you get thrown out.
3. VERBAL. A caustic, intellectual battle of wits? Or just immature playground insults? Either way, the fighthing here isn't physical; sticks and stones can break your bones, but we'll see if words can hurt you...
4. WEAPONRY. Fencing practice or a real swordfight? Paintball or battlefield gunfight? The only limits are your imagination (and the extents of human military engineering, of course)!
5. SPARRING. Maybe you're a streetwise punk teaching the new kid on the block the ropes of self-defense. Or perhaps you just want to get some practice in before your karate exam.
6. SEXY. That collar-grabbing led to a kiss, that knee stayed in a place a little too long, those gazes got a little intense... There's heavy breathing here, but it might not be because you've been exerting yourself.
7. DUEL. You insulted the wrong person. Or got caught cheating at cards. A duel, sir, a duel! The gloves are off (and slapping you) and it's pistols at dawn.
8. COMPETITIVE. Boxing, wrestling, martial arts, the possibilities are endless. Just remember: the first rule of Fight Club...
9. OTHER. Combine any of the above, or make up your own!

VI. BODY HORROR

1. WATER-DWELLING. You've grown gills, or your skin is turning translucent, or you're sprouting fins, or maybe you're outright turning into some form of sea life. It doesn't matter what you're turning into - what does matter is taht you're slowly losing the ability to breathe air, and there's no water in sight.
2. ANIMAL. Something bit you, and you're turning into an animal. Your bones lengthen or perhaps shrink, break, twist, and reform. Your teeth lengthen or shorten. And above all, you feel your instincts being overridden. Your senses sharpen; you notice smells you never did before. Your vision becomes more sensitive to movement. If you're a predator? Man, these people look mighty tasty. Prey? OH GOD. EVERYTHING IS TERRIFYING. Lizard? Enjoy your new inability to regulate body temperature. Bird? Have fun with the whole beak and hollowing bones. And don't get us started on insects and arachnids.
3. PARASITIC. Something's inside you, and it's changing you from within, chewing up your insides and altering your thoughts. You're not sure how much longer you're going to be you, and when the parasite's going to take over completely...
4. DEMONIC. You've been meddling with dark powers beyond the ken of mortal man, and it seems you've accidentally sold your soul. Will you be the traditional kind of demon, horns and hooves, or something far more terrifying and ineffable?
5. UNDEAD. No doubt about it, you're dying. But as you are, something's been altered in you. Maybe you're becoming a vampire - and not the fun kind either; we're talking ugly, ravenous, and mad. Maybe you're a zombie, or a ghoul, and human flesh looks mighty tasty. Or maybe you're just turning into a ghost bent on vengeance. In any case, death is never fun.
6. CYBERNETIC. Get captured by the Borg? Strapped to an operating table? INjected with nanites? Whatever happened to you, you're slowly turning into something half-human, half-machine, and your squishy bits are being replaced by mechnical components.
7. LOVECRAFTIAN. You've heard their song, the terrors from beyond the stars, and even no they sing in your blood as your frlesh transmutes into something ineffable and unknowable. You revel in the pain. You feel even as you seek to spread it, to herald the end of all things... Or maybe worse. You're aware of the transition as your mind becomes not your own.
8. FUSION/HIVEMIND. Youv'e begun to fuse with the first person who tagged you - physically, mentall, or both. Soon, you can't tell who is who, which one of you is the real you, as yur thoughts become one. Join in the fleshsong, mortal.
9. INANIMATE. Your body slowly petrifies and hardens, tuning to stone, wood, glass, or somethign stranger still. Or perhaps you liquefy or maybe you dissolve into the air itself.
10. WILDCARD. Pick whatever you like, combine a few options, or make up your own.

VII. HIGH SCHOOL AU

1. CLASS TIME. Pick your class, pick your seat. Whether you're paying attention or goofing off, you're interacting constantly with someone else.
2. BREAK TIME. Those precious minutes that aren't lunch, usually half an hour if you're lucky. Are you hanging out on the grass, rushing to get homework finished, or bunking off school early?
3. LUNCH TIME. Food, glorious food! ... As long as you're not eating the school lunches. What sort of chaos will you get up to in the endless queue that is the lunch line?
4. FOOD FIGHT. The natural reaction to being served school lunches: throwing them as far away from you as possible. You're caught in the middle, or maybe you're instigating it. Who knows? No one can tell.
5. STUDY PERIOD. Yeah. "Studying." They mean catching up on gossip, right? Or watching that crappy TV in the common room? Or maybe you really want to study. I'm not judging.
6. SKIPPING SCHOOL. Did you even get to school before you bunked off somewhere? Or did you just take the bus five stops further and in to town? Hope you don't get caught, either way.
7. EXAM WEEK. You're going into an exam, or just cramming every last bit of knowledge into your head. Either way, good luck! You're going to need it.
8. DETENTION. What did you do? Or were you innocent and wrapped up in your friend's scheme, and now you both have detention? I do not envy you at any rate.
9. SUMMER HOLIDAY. SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER! Burn your books, burn your uniforms. Everything is over for another 6 weeks (or however long you get off).
10. FACULTY. Oh, hello miss/sir. No, we weren't talking about bunking. Yep, you're the teacher. IMPORTANT NOTE: If you get this option, you or your partner can do a second roll for the scenario.
11. TAKE YOUR PICK. Free for you. Whether you want to pick something from the list, or make up your own scenario, this option allows that. (Of course, you could just bypass the rolling entirely.)

VIII. APOCALYPSE HOW

1. LAST ACTION HERO. You tried your best to save the world, but despite the superpowers, the teamwork, and the sacrifice of many good friends, you couldn't quite pull it off. Now you're left with your guilt and a universe where half the people left are depending on you to help them, while the rest are trying to hunt you down for your failures. Good luck with that, hero.
2. SCIENCE SAVIOR. They said it was impossible, they said it was futile, but you know that if you just got a little bit of support you could fix all of the world's troubles. Maybe your experiments are a bit on the unethical side, but the survival of humanity is depending on you! You can't let the world down. Time to grab those test-tubes and get yourself a lab assistant that doesn't mind getting their hands dirty.
3. THE LAST PERSON ON EARTH. Well, it's finally happened. A virus or disease or genetic mutation has all but wiped out members of the opposite sex and humanity is doomed. But what's this? A lone survivor? As the saviour of the species, they'll be glad to lend a hand (or reproductive organ) to help restore the population, right? Maybe a little bit of persuasion is in order.
4. SO LONELY. You haven't talked to another person in days and you're starved for conversation. So when you finally meet another lone traveler it makes total sense to stick together, right? Maybe share some food, some companionship, some ammo. . . . Better hope you both get along.
5. MUTATION STATION. The bomb dropped and some people weren't fortunate enough to go in the blast. Now those left behind have to deal with nuclear winter, a dwindling food supply, and some strange additions to the human gene code. Maybe these superhumans are friendly and misunderstood. Then again, maybe they just want to eat your brains.
6. LAST DANCE. The world is ending. You know it, everyone knows it, so the only thing left to do is party like it's 1999. Complete your bucket list, do the things you never got the chance to do before, and maybe screw up the courage to do the things you were too scared to even think about doing. Oh, and watch out for looters.
7. FREEBIE SCENARIO. Anything you can think of that isn't already mentioned can go here.

IX. PARANOIA

1. EROTOMANIA. That person loves you. They belong to you. They might deny it and be with someone else but they're ridiculous. You know better here.
2. DISTRUST. Simple as it sounds, you're being lied to. You can't prove it but you're not falling for their tricks anymore.
3. HALLUCINATIONS. A vague classic. Those sounds, those sights, your senses are screwed up and the world is upside down. There's plenty of senses to screw.
4. TAINTED. You're completely wrong. Is it in your family's blood? Is it parasites? A disease? Aliens? A sin? But it's consuming you, whatever it is.
5. CONSPIRACY. Why are they after you? Who knows. Maybe you know. But everyone is in on it and you're the only one left fighting against it.
6. CONTROL. Your actions aren't your own, even if others insist they are. Somehow, either drugs or magic or something, someone is making you their puppet.
7. FIXATION. Either it's in you or someone else or a thing but this imperfection is clawing at your mind. Just fix it. Fix it and you can rest.
8. FOLIE A DEUX. The more either you or the other person talks, the more you feed into this unease and the more real it sounds. What can you two alone do?
9. REPLACEMENTS. Is it just this person or is everyone being replaced with a fake? You're not a fake, though. You won't let them replace you.
10. REAL. Is any of this real? Maybe you're dreaming or drugged. Maybe you're dead. But you need to prove that this is really happening, whatever it takes.

X. MOOD MISMATCH

The character tagging in can be the cause, the subject, or the witness of a more or less (in)appropriate display of feelings.

I. WOEFULLY
1. Take over the world.
2. Eat chocolate cake.
3. Train with them.
4. Attend a party thrown for them, or for you.
5. Get crowned / promoted / awarded a high honour by, or beside them.
6. Receive a dazzling gift from them.

II. ANGRILY
1. Carry out a domestic task with their help.
2. Make them a sandwich.
3. Direct them in traffic.
4. Propose, or commit to them.
5. Deliver their mail / missive / gift.
6. Give them a massage.

III. BLISSFULLY
1. Break their heart.
2. Read out a defamatory article about them, or a vicious critical review of their work.
3. Trigger a curse/mechanism that condemns you both to some terrible chore or fate.
4. Destroy all that is dear to them.
5. Share your germs. All of them.
6. Sign you both up for a nigh-suicide mission.

IV. SENSUALLY
1. Mop the(ir?) floor.
2. Carry out a mundane phone conversation.
3. Vandalize public property.
4. Take down your enemies.
5. Play chess.
6. Confess to them, or give a report of your activity.

V. POLITELY
1. Take them hostage.
2. Knock them out.
3. Pickpocket them.
4. Confront them about something you learned by listening in on their private conversations, reading their (e-)mail, or having their house under surveillance.
5. Betray them.
6. Try to kill them, or have them killed.

XI. RANDOM LOCATION

1. LOST. Oh shit, how did you even get here.
2. ON THE RUN. Getting away from someone or something that's after you.
3. TREASURE HUNTING. Something you desire is here. Maybe it's being guarded or you're competing for it.
4. TRAVELLING. You turned up here on purpose. Why is up to you.
5. ESCAPE. Things have gone wrong and you need to get out of this place.
6. DISASTER. Something awful has happened whether you're the cause, a witness or there to help.
7. INVASION. It's a siege! Are you defending or attacking?
8. HOME. It's actually where you live.
9. DUEL. The predetermined location to end a feud.
10. WHATEVER. Just make something up, whatever.

XII. STOP! SOMEONE IS NAKED IN YOUR...

1. BED. Waking up after a wild night or just getting ready for bed?
2. OFFICE. Getting a leg up at work? Caught in a moment of indiscretion?
3. YARD. Someone's been communing with nature...
4. CAR. The warmth of a heater during snowfall... or the aircon during a melting summer.
5. BEACH. Oh look, there's a floating swimsuit... and there's its owner.
6. RIVER. God, can't even fish without hooking the wrong species.
7. BATTLEFIELD. Oops, someone looted the wrong corpse... who isn't actually a corpse.
8. SCHOOL. All right, who's been raiding the locker room?
9. BATHROOM. . . . Oh, hey, who needs a shower, right?
10. PARK. Sun and grass and lots of people to . . . watch . . . oh my.
11. . . . CLOTHES?? Okay, technically they are clothed, but it's not their clothes dammit.
12. OTHER. Because there are way, way too many more places than I can think of.

XIII. INTIMACY

1. PHYSICAL INTIMACY. It might just be innocent touches or it might be during sex.
2. LONG CONVERSATIONS. Honest words can be more intimate than touch.
3. DRUNK. You're oversharing or simply maudlin.
4. FORCED INTIMACY. Magic. A truth serum, whatever - you didn't mean to bare your soul, but that is precisely what you're doing right now.
5. SLOW-DANCING. There is something inherently intimate about trusting someone else to lead you, and someone trust you to lead them.
6. OTHER. Intimacy can come in many forms. Pick your poison.

XIV. OTHER

1. BOUNTY HUNTERS. You're wanted. And someone is chasing you. Maybe it isn't your fault? But maybe you did rob that bank. Either way, there's someone after that price on your head. Confront them, or run? Specify hunter or hunted.
2. TRUTH. You can't tell a lie. Maybe both of you can't, or only one of you, but now is the time to ask those embarrassing questions.
3. OBEDIENCE. The person posting is compelled to obey, no matter what. (Un)Fortunately the person commenting is compelled to give orders. All orders given must be obeyed.
4. LOTUS EATERS. The person posting is trapped in their own dream of personal paradise. The person commenting is trapped with them. Help free them, or fall into paradise?
5. PLANTS OF DEATH. Plants are trying to kill you. (Something's . . . happening.)
6. INSOMNIA. One or both of you can't sleep, and that sucks. Be awake together.
7. DREAMWALKING. One of you is trapped in the other's dream - or nightmare.
8. SOULMATES. You are meant to be, whether the relationship is functional or . . . less so.
9. PICTURE/QUOTE PROMPT. Throw a bunch of pictures and/or quotes around and see what happens, freeform style! Try RP Visualocities or A Sea Of Quotes.
10. OTHER-WORLDLY. Go to the Other-Wordly blog and hit 'Random' until you get a word. Use the word as a prompt to write up an RP scenario. Do this several times if you like. Mix & match.

Comments

Peter Peter Peter!

[ohmygodfrey]

God I hope this is okayyyyy

[velveteenwolf]

It's been ten minutes, and neither of them has said anything. The silence is suffocating, sitting in Roman's car, Peter's head tilted back as he looks at the inside of the convertible roof, the rain pattering down against it. The rhythm of it is a replacement for the usual thrum of Roman's music. Considering about fifteen minutes ago Letha had been dragging his hands over her tits, silence is probably the best answer.

It had taken all of about ten seconds to break it all. Movement outside, a slender figure in the rain and he'd left Letha half-naked on his couch, which was... yeah, probably not the most gentlemanly gesture. Lynda would kick his ass for it later. But, for as much as he'd insisted this is over, he'd chased after him anyway. Roman had grabbed him and he'd stayed and they'd stumbled back to his car.

The Godfrey heir had popped some pills out of that Altoid container of drugs and smokes and razorblades and then they'd slipped into this silence that was treacherous, and seethed with things that Peter didn't know how to say. There was this disturbing desire to start talking, to try and explain, justify himself as if he owed Roman an explanation for anything.

Fuck this, fuck him. Maybe it was juvenile to hold making him care against Roman, but Peter was perfectly okay with doing it anyway. He wanted to apologize and kiss him and the urge made him want to punch Roman's perfect fucking face.

So the silence stretched to breaking.

MORE THAN OKAY

[ohmygodfrey]

It's Roman, naturally, who ends up cutting through it, that silence. It buzzes at him, is all, silence - who the fuck's idea was it to invent the thing anyway? Creeps all under your skin and climbs in there and rots with all your expectations of what's to come. He hates it. But that's just because he likes to talk.

And oh, how he can talk his way out of most of everything. Pretty, pretty words that could make anyone drop to their knees, caress at his cheek, plunge themselves off a cliff and bang off the jagged rocks below for all he gives a shit, he could watch it happen and he couldn't feel a thing. But that's not this and Roman doesn't even want that so why is he even thinking about it, all that blood and broken bones and mangled meat for some newly-created woman - not a mother, just a woman - to have to identify in the cold light of morning?

It's the silence, it's just the silence.

"Here's the thing," he starts off, and his hand slams against the steering wheel when he does so. It's Klonopin he's taken and it should start kicking in soon, but it hasn't yet, and while it hasn't, he finds himself really inordinately pissed off. He really wants the Klonopin to kick in. "The pecker wants what the heart wants." Is that poetic? He doesn't fucking care. "But if that's her you're just fucking with, I'll bite it off." He looks at Peter when he says that, eyebrows raised. "I'll do it."

What a strangely specific punishment.

But he knows exactly why he's so angry with Peter about this. He has three reasons.

"So what the fuck are you doing?"

[velveteenwolf]

"I'm not doing anything. I don't even want--"

He cuts himself off there, curses, because fuck this. Fuck Roman and fuck Letha. In the figurative, not the literal sense. She'd put his hands on her tits, and it had been like staring down the barrel of a shotgun knowing you're taking both rounds in the fucking face, whether you want to or not. He shakes his head,

"You're the same, you know. Fucking Godfreys. You think whatever you want belongs to you because of your fucking name."

He'd said no, even if he wasn't exactly up to telling Roman why he;d said no, what it was that kept him from wanting in her. Peter was a virgin and under different circumstance would about as thrilled at the idea of sex with anyone as the next boy. But he wanted Roman. Which infuriated him and made him shake and ached inside of him. He wasn't into dudes, at least, he didn't think he was. Not really.

Fucking around was one thing. Clumsy touches, drunk and laughing and making fun of the whole fucking world. It wasn't like he was about to get on his knees and say please, I want you to fuck me. Or was he? Roman was about as easy to figure out as a knife in the dark. He flicked his thumb at the metal container and raised an eyebrow.

"You gonna be a dick or you gonna share?"

Pills weren't his thing. Roman wasn't his thing, either. Fuck it all, it was just that kind of fucking night.

peterrrrr for cute stoner times, man.

[cowhouse]

i spent the morning naked in her roommates closet because her parents decided to come over after church.

[TMI? Oh well, too late now.]

[velveteenwolf]

dude whether this is literal or some fuckin figurative shit, you sound like you need a drink.

[cowhouse]

totally literal. and i could totally use a drink my back is killing me. you know how uncomfortable it is trying to sit on heels for like three hours

[Walk in closets are the way to go. Eat him, tiny dorm cupboard. If there was ever a sign that Jesse is a billion percent unfit for college life...]

[velveteenwolf]

i have uncrushed smokes and cheap alcohol. where r u?

Peter

[shows]

It's literally the first time that Nessie has been on a road trip, a proper road trip with a cooler in the backseat, her feet on the dashboard and nothing but cheap motels, cheesy landmarks and long days in the car ahead of them.

It would be an understatement to say that she's excited. She can hardly sit still in the passenger seat of the car. Everything holds a particular fascination and nothing has been silent she sat down in that well worn seat. She's spent the last hour or so, flipping through the stations on the radio, singing along as she catches snippets and scratchy, static burdened bits of songs, but they've hit a particularly lonely stretch of road and there's not even the suggestion of song bleeding through the static. She flips the radio off and pulls her feet up into the seat with her, turning to look at Peter.

"I do know how to drive. In case you get tired."

Pea. Tear. Row. Man. Sick.

[saturniapavonia]

[Lunch time! Hemlock High's bell rings and classes empty out. Roman knows where to find Peter. It's almost a talent now. Also he's got quite a few classes with Letha. Fickle finger of fate at that. So he waits and tries to fight the urge to smoke in front of the teachers. They hate that.

FINALLY there he is.]

Wanna get some real food?

Squeee~

[velveteenwolf]

[In one of those miracles, Peter actually was in class, although Roman seems to have no trouble finding him whether he'd been cutting class and getting high or hiding under the bleachers. It probably should be creepy, but instead it just tugs a smile from his lips when he sees him; green eyes and tailored clothes, and a head above the crowd.]

Sure. Got some place in mind?

[It was lunch time, but usually with them, going off campus for lunch meant skipping the best of the school day. Peter didn't have any complaints, however.]

[saturniapavonia]

[Woah. He actually had been in class. It ended early. Chemistry accident. Not for Roman. He just got to watch someone have a chemical reaction with a Bunsen burner.

A smile is slowly climbing onto his face.]

Ever been to a country club?

[velveteenwolf]

No, why?

[Peter shoots him a suspicious look, halfway between you aren't serious, are you and what are you planning. But he shrugs his shoulders, a wry smile curving his mouth as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. This has Romany Godfrey levels of dumbshit all over it, and unfortunately Peter more and more finds himself enjoying being along for the ride.

It's a problem, even if he manages to tell himself otherwise.]

[saturniapavonia]

[He knocks on the door to the trailer. He's been here several times and might as well go strolling in. The heaviness of his own worry and emotions give him an extra effort to give a fuck because it's taken effort to wake up and act like everything's fine.

The more he'll get used to trying maybe it'll be easier.]

Can we talk?

[velveteenwolf]

[Peter wanders out of his bedroom at the sound at the knock on the door. He's pale, still doesn't look great, but he's alive, and that means that he looks better than Christina or Shelley. Fuck. Everything had been fucked. He honestly hadn't expected to see Roman so soon, but he gestures him in.]

Sure.

[It's an easy answer, even if the words raise a tension in him that he can't fully muster at the moment. Every time Letha uses those words, he'd rather punch himself in the dick than deal with what comes after, but it's never an option. Instead, he wanders into the kitchen, pouring himself some orange juice, trying to feel awake, even if it is most certainly well into afternoon, almost evening.]

What's up?

[Doing his best to keep it casual.]

[saturniapavonia]

[Long legs feel like they're made of lead. Hey they move though. Roman is always pale. His skin feels hot. The better to take off his pea-coat. He's wearing a lightweight cardigan beneath.]

You look good for being dead.

[Hah. Roman's in his own sense of shock about everything. Something as normal and mundane as dropping in is ridiculously hard to navigate with what's on his mind.]

...Shelley's still gone. Letha's okay. I think she's pissed at me.

[The and is the biggest elephant ever. So he just rolls up the sleeve of his cardigan to show the white bandage. All those times he's cut himself shallow or deep he's got an idea of how to wrap something but even with a very capable medical facility within reach he took care of the wound himself.

It's still bleeding.]

Whoops tagging my own post

[velveteenwolf]

[Peter's still reeling from it all, the feel of hands on his body, of the sensation of it. He'd been aching for it almost since he met Roman, but he'd been running from it for just as long. There's a flush to his face, almost a glow to his skin. There's that temptation to say something about sex in Roman's car, but Peter manages to resist, having pushed his luck enough for today. Instead, he invites him down to the Rumancek trailer for a drink and a joint.

He doesn't know anything's amiss, isn't expecting there to be anyone there. The consequences haven't really caught up to him yet; which is to say that he's intentionally trying to avoid thinking about them. Him and Letha aren't dating, but he's not quite dumb enough to think that this will be okay either.

When he opens the door, holding it open for Roman and only notices her bag and then the light blond hair and those Godfrey greens once they're inside, he stops like he'd been struck dumb. He'd got that guilty look about him, even if it's an emotion he's in the process of resisting.

Peter himself hasn't even noticed the suction bruises on his neck, let alone the other marks that Roman's hands left scattered across caramel skin like blood at the scene of a crime.]

Letha...

[He says her name, trying to find something else to say and instead standing there like an idiot.]

[seventeen]

[ The decision to surprise Peter had been made on a whim. It wasn't uncommon for her thoughts to drift to the rugged boy, so when he was missing from lunch, it only made sense that she wondered where he'd gone. In a way, he'd become the highlight of her day (she was happy to ignore the fact that he didn't feel as overwhelmed by infatuation as she did and would argue that the reason he wasn't open about his feelings was just because he was fearful of letting anyone in).

Peter hadn't been the only boy that Letha had looked for at lunch, and she was only partially surprised to find that Roman had gone missing, too. Boy stuff, she thought. They, and Roman especially, were fixated on whatever they thought was going on in Hemlock Grove. Nagging for more information on whatever the mysterious mission was hadn't gotten Letha any closer to finding out what they were really up to. She could have racked her brain for hours and she would never have come up with the truth.

By the end of the day, Letha was already preparing to go to Peter's trailer with the hope that he would appreciate the surprise. Without Roman to drive her, she opted to take the bus instead. His mother had been on her way out but insisted that she was welcome to stay and wait for her not-quite-boyfriend to return.

So that is exactly what Letha Godfrey did, making herself at home in the trailer. It's cozy and inviting, unlike some of the grand estates Letha had visited in her years. She hops up immediately when she hears him -- no, them, she's pretty sure by the sound of it (furthering her theory that they'd probably gone out and done some crazy thing together) -- approaching. She couldn't been sure how Peter would take the surprise, given that at times he was closed off and private, but she doesn't expect that he'll--

The look on his face isn't the kind of shock that she had expected. There's something about it that reads like something is terribly, terribly wrong, and since she isn't close enough to see the evidence of his rendezvous with her cousin, she can't parse why he looks like he's a deer caught in headlights. Her stomach sinks. ]

I wondered where you two went!

[ She's doing everything she can to just ignore whatever it is. Why come across accusing if she doesn't have a clue what they've been up to? Boys got up to weird stuff all the time. ]

[saturniapavonia]

[At least he has combed his hair and fastened every button on his shirt. Appearances, appearances are ever important. Somehow the Godfrey name is smudged at the club. A heft tip might help too.

The easy, breezy state of mind is thrown into a hurricane. The high of fucking and pretending that it was without any consequence at all is over and done with. Now he's only left to watch it circle the drain that goes as deep as the horrible, empty feeling in his gut.

Letha has always been his favorite cousin. (His only cousin.) And in someways like a sister. She understood him. And her benevolence extended to his undeserving mother and his far too deserving sister. Is this how you're going to be treating that kind of person?

Roman may be emotionally stunted and numb where others his age excel but he can see the way she looks at Peter. And Peter sure as shit has some kind of chemistry with her too.]

Hey Coz.

[The words spill right on out of his mouth like they have so many other times. He remains stuck in his tracks behind Peter because he's not going to be charging through him to try and get this awkward moment going further. Nonetheless here it comes.]

Didn't see your car.

Dead Leaves

[velveteenwolf]

[Peter didn't know why he stayed. No, fuck that. He knew exactly why he stayed. He just also knew that it was still a fucking dumbshit idea. It wasn't just that her death hurt. There was nothing them now, which was a pretty terrifying realization.

Less than a week until the Hunter Moon, and he could remember what they'd been doing the year before. But that was all gone now, like a bitter dream. All there was was each other.

The leaves were bright in shades of red and gold, and every store week replete with pumpkins and cobwebs and the myths of what lurked in the dark. Peter knew the answer to the unasked question, and Hemlock Grove was more aware of it than most places, even if they clung tight to their denials about a rational world. Whatever.

Peter wasn't waiting for Roman. Or, well, he wasn't just waiting for Roman. He had a rake, and was showing some of that rarely applied determination as he built himself a leaf pile fit for a king. Fuck the world, fuck the hurt, the pain, the confusion... fuck everything. There was warm cider and something with apples in the kitchen, Roman was on his way, and so Peter even managed to laugh as he spread his arms and flopped into it, sending leaves flying. It was autumn. He'd never quite appreciated the season before.]

on a dirty ground

[saturniapavonia]

[Lessons that one learns in life don't always have a resolution. One of the unfair, bitch of a things Roman has learned. No reasons for cruel intentions outside of carelessness of say a young girl's frustrated wishes and fears that shook lives as much as a bitter north wind. He doesn't know why Letha had to die, why Shelley had to leave and he had to live now with survivor's guilt but he does. Another season in life.

Letha loved the fall. She loved so many things. New England, especially Hemlock Grove, did autumn in a big way. Now it was like there was a solemn understanding to the ghastly, grinning jack-o-lanterns. It doesn't hurt for them to smile and they're just as hollow inside.

Leaves blow and crunch under the tires of his Jaguar. It's the same familiar road. He adjusts his scarf ans he slams the door shut and makes the trek down the steps to the Rumancek trailer. Roman softly whistles "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean" now and then dropping it out of a lack of commitment.

Peter looks natural laying in the dead pile of foliage.]

Don't get up.

[velveteenwolf]

You gonna join me?

[He sat up a little, looking up at Roman, blue eyes looking into those glinting greens. He smiled, thin and not with much humor, but it was something. October was a month of harvest, of the coming dark, winter. But beyond that, Spring would come. As much as this hurt now, he tried to hold onto such thoughts -- only an asshole thought they could change the order of nature. As much hurt as he felt, it might not ever pass, but it would lessen.

He'd stayed for Roman, even if it was an awkward thing. Letha wasn't here, no softening touch that kept them apart. It was part of what made her easier; that ability to temper that connection between them, making it seem less terrifying. The chill of autumn accomplished that as well, however, as did the harshness of grief. His presence always brightened his spirits, and today was no different. The nearness of Halloween had cookies and other sweets even more common than usual, and he planned on at least dragging Roman inside for cookies and coffee or some shit like that.

He liked having him around these days, even if he didn't admit it outloud. It was in the air between them. He reached a hand out, less a request for help and more a vague desire to pull him down.]

[makes_it_rain]

[It was probably a little after the battle for the rings that Yamamoto started stopping by the disciplinary committee's room every once in a while, mostly to see how Hibari was doing and check his reflexes. Also, since no one else other than Ryohei-senpai and the little guy went out of their way to try to include Hibari in their activities outside of the mafia roleplay game, Yamamoto figured he should pitch in as well. Besides, Hibari had a way of surprising him every once in a while and could be counted on for sparring.

Today though, he'd left his sword at home, instead touting a newspaper clipping as he let himself in the room, the other hand raised in greeting.]

Yo, Hibari! Have you seen this?

[It was a pretty bold article, if Yamamoto could say so himself, mostly calling out the committee for gross corruption and violence, and he figured if Hibari had it would be better to try and contain the situation right now.]

[hibariskylark]

[Hibari still isn't entirely sure what he thinks of the fact that Yamamoto has taken to swinging by the Disciplinary Committee offices. There's the fact that the other teenager is either bad at history or seems to care little for the fact that half of the time Kyoya gets irritated and ends up trying to hit him with one of his tonfa. Hibari finds himself both pleased and irritated when the swordsman manages to dodge it.

Yamamoto is interesting: that's as much of a conclusion as he's come to thus far. He likes sparring with him, he likes the look in his eyes when Hibari pushes him and the other teen pushes back. The list of people that he gets a thrill when fighting is very short and Yamamoto Takeshi has so far managed to keep himself there. So he tolerates his presence.

However, today Hibari is in something of a mood from the very start. The way that his frown sharpens when he sees the newspaper clipping that Yamamoto is brandishing is likely answer enough to that question. But he nods with a near-snarl, his voice clipped and short when he speaks.]

Yes. Kusukabe is locating the author.

[He leaves the and I'm going to bite to death the people responsible unspoken, his silver eyes narrowed as he looks up at the Rain Guardian. Normally the Disciplinary Committee censored anything printed that was the least bit critical, but some brave souls had managed to sneak around those rules. Hibari was very clearly Not Pleased.

His temper had been rather volatile all day, and the rest of the Committee were currently elsewhere trying to figure out exactly how this had happened. Admittedly, it wasn't as if any of the allegations were untrue -- Hibari just didn't care about such points.

He stands up from his desk, gaze sharp as he looks him over, not-quite-casually leaning against the side of it.]

You don't have your sword.

[Honestly, Hibari could have used the outlet for his frustrations; he's twirling one of his tonfa in his hands as he looks at Yamamoto.]

[makes_it_rain]

[The sight of Hibari's hackles raising was enough to answer the question, and Yamamoto experienced brief regret that he hadn't brought his sword along with him today. Not only would a sparing session be particularly exciting today, but it might have bought the poor soul who had dared speak out against the Disciplinary Committee a few more hours to hide. Well, there was always Plan B.]

Is it necessary? They didn't write anything that wasn't true.

[Exhibit A of why Yamamoto tended to get a black eye for all of his efforts.

At the observation, Yamamoto laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.]

It's at home. We could go spar at the dojo today if you want.

[Besides, better it be him than whoever wrote that article. Yamamoto had to admire someone who was that gutsy, but he doubted they'd be able to escape Hibari's wrath unscathed.]