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Palm Beach Royals: Class Reunion

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Standing in front of Amanda's door, Grayson debated knocking on it and asking if she'd like an escort. Inhaling and exhaling, and repeat, he brought his knuckles inches away from the wood. He was really doing this, wasn't he? He was finally going to have a conversation with the immaculate beauty from his teenage dreams. After nodding, reassuring himself that this was the right decision, he went for a gentle tap, only to freeze when he heard her scream on the other side. The sudden unpleasantries coming out of her mouth caused him to retract his fist and be forcibly brought back to his present reality where a door was in between him and her.

Something usually was in between him and her.

Yeah, maybe not.

The best course of action was to wait for his chance to talk to her at the cocktail party. She didn't know him. Not really. The likelihood of her wanting him, out of all people, as her escort was slim to none. In all honesty, it was probably not even an option. She may not remember his name. They were mere acquaintances in high school and now they were complete strangers to one another, with nothing but faded memories.

Even so... the desire was still there. That old feeling where the fantastical illusion he had of her wanting him made his chest ache at the unbelievable prospects. It was hard to believe that he still found himself holding her up on a high pedestal. Then again, here he was staring at her door like an idiot.

God, he was such an idiot.

As he walked away, prominently striding outside where the others were inevitably waiting, he decided right then and there that he WOULD talk to her. Before the night was through, he would approach her and have a conversation that would captivate and intrigue her. With determination, diligence, and dedication he would survive the night. Not only with her, but also with everyone else. Though, especially with her.

What? Priorities, man.

~

By the backdoor, Grayson looked ahead at those who were already there. First, his dark gaze went to Jace, sitting by his lonesome self. He watched the sorry (but good looking) dude and wondered why did he hate him so much? Ten years ago he could barely look at him without wishing death upon him and his future children. Watching him now, he felt guilty. Guilty treating him the way he did without coming clean. Jace had a taste of the one person Grayson wanted but couldn't have. That wasn't Jace's fault. It was his own for giving up, not bothering to even try.

It was peculiar, really. His whole journey back to FL he thought seeing this man would annoy the living shit out of him, like all that spite and malice he had for him when they were younger, going the extra mile of destroying Jace's face in his yearbook, would still be there like his crush for Amanda. Yet, it wasn't. At least, right now, he didn't have it in him to hate someone that he could've been good friends with.

His attention went from Jace to the three girls at the bar. There was Willow, who was dressed like a showstopper, with a prepossessing... blue dress on. As he rolled his cuffs up (he left his jackets behind), internally he frowned. If anyone deserved an apology, it was definitely her. He used her and her feelings for him. Made her feel like yesterday's trash. There was no denying he was an asshole and he'd be lucky if she could even look at him again.

His stare went from her to Allison, who was styling pretty in pink. Wow, these girls were really outdoing themselves tonight. Granted, Amanda did hold them all to a dress code, and therefore there was a standard they all had to meet. Scratching his head, he recalled his foolish, insensitive teen self, when he tried to force her to stop taking Addie. Rather than express his legitimate concerns, he caused her to feel insignificant and took the one thing she clung to away from her. He insulted her intelligence and said something dumb like, if you're really that smart you wouldn't need these stupid ass pills.

That's one of the few memories he purposely tried to block out. He could handle the prom incident, although that may be subjectively worse, he couldn't handle the fact that he teared his close friend down when she needed him the most. This had nothing to do with love. This had everything to do with trust and friendship. He fucked that up royally.

Rerouting his mind, he turned his head to the last person who arrived before the crowd. As if time stopped, his eyes, which were the softest brown infused with green, a charming melt of autumn tones, fell on... Tara.

Wait, that's Tara?

Well damn. Green looked good on her. Very good. His rational brain turned off when an incomprehensible feeling stretched throughout his whole body. The way she was holding herself arouse his curiosity and he didn't know what to think. She just looked... she surprised him, is all.

Letting his feet take charge, he first went to Jace and lightly slapped the table, "Hey man, good to see you." His heart was racing, knowing for a fact that he was nothing like this when they were younger, "You should come join me at the bar," He stepped back when a waiter maneuvered around Gray to place Jace's food in front of him, "...If not, that's fine. We can chat later. Actually talk for once, since y'know, I was a dick and our friends don't deserve that bull." The detective ran his hand through his hair, wondering if he was coming off too strong, too desperate, or actually doing this 'mending' thing right.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he looked back at the bar, "Anyways, I need to do my rounds, but yeah. We'll talk." A conversation with Jace could go well, or terribly wrong, but while Gray had the chance, he wasn't going to lose this opportunity to talk to the others either. Kill all the birds with one stone.

With silent steps, he approached the bar and parked himself at the end of it, giving all three of them enough space from him, so maybe, just maybe they wouldn't leave. Maybe, just maybe, they'd hear him out. Leaving the stools open for anyone else that wanted to sit in them, he rubbed his goatee. "...Rudy, is it?" He read the name tag, making sure to filter out all the small details and critical observations that were overflowing in his mind. "I'll take a jack and coke." The bartender nodded, immediately pulling out a whiskey glass. While he started on Grayson's drink, the brute of a man took out his wallet and dropped a twenty in the tip jar. Knowing him, he'd keep filling it up as the night went on.

Accepting the burden of breaking the ice, he drummed his fingers on the counter, showing a hint of his anxiousness as he mustered the courage to talk to all three of them at once. Clearing his throat to grab their attention, his cheeks dimpled, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled, he gave a casual compliment "Ladies, you all look lovely tonight." Not too focused and weird. Normal chit-chat.

The bartender slid the glass down the counter. Instinctively, Gray caught it, took a nervous sip, and added, "Before any of you walk away, I do want a chance to apologize. I don't expect us to talk this weekend. You can ignore me, that's fine. I deserve it. I just wanted to finally get this off my chest and say: I'm sorry. And hey, if you want to throw insults at me, tell me how stupid I was, punch me in the face--" He chuckled to himself as he locked eyes with Tara.

"I can handle it."

Mobius Academy: The City in the Sky

-redacted-

Mobius Academy: The City in the Sky

@Hey Im Jordan@Altered Tundra done. retiring from sheet making. goodbye lol.

Tristan

"Do I look like I give a fuck? Y'know, you talk too much. That's gonna' bite you in the ass one day. Watch.”
_{Face Claim — Benjamin Wadsworth | Color — 008040}

Name

Tristan Castillo

Superhero Alias

Ultimatum

Age

18

Sex

M

Sexual Orientation

Heterosexual

Hero Connection

Protégé to Professor Charles Francis Xavier

Appearance

• Lax and comfortable - "I don't give a fuck" attire, unless he's told to be presentable.
• If he wants to throw something on without much thought, he'll wear his X-Men uniform.
• Unkempt curly hair.
• Scar on the right side of his face.
• Displays a dark, damaged, and deviant aura (that's part of his charm).
• Chain smoker. Nasty habit.

Personality Traits

Competitive → Innovative → Cunning → Aggressive → Self-critical → Unrelenting

Secret Origin

Tristan grew up at New Beginnings Orphan Home for Special Children. A self-contained orphanage housing around 40 other orphans, including himself. At the time, he was too young to understand the true mission of this place that collected children who showed signs of mutations and powers. Whether through means of kidnap or murder, these children had no home to return to unless they got "adopted".

Although the experience seemed bright, with clean clothes, game time, and better food than a hospital, Tristan knew something was off and gained a reputation as one of the troublemakers. Perhaps it's because he could hear his caretakers thoughts - some pitied them, some hated them, the rest were afraid. Not of the children but of whoever was in charge. His information gathering and mission to start a mutiny didn't last long when they realized telepathy was Tristan's greatest power, not the telekinesis he used at a corner store that got him taken in the first place. At some point in time, he couldn't break into their minds.

Shortly after his first rebellious act, he discovered their disciplinary techniques, which were unethical and old-fashioned, like hydrotherapy or forcing his mind to go in overdrive using a shock helmet. One night, he tried to runaway, only to discover a laboratory with those kids he assumed to be adopted, dead and used for experimentation.

Shortly after, he ran back into bed only to have a manic episode where he couldn't filter everyone's thoughts out of his head. In that moment, he blacked out and woke up to see all those orphans, he grew to know and love, dead. They each found different ways to commit suicide or have their friends use their powers to kill them. Later on that same night, the orphanage was infiltrated and he was rescued by a couple of X-Men. In articles and media, he was labeled as the lone survivor.

When he reached the X-Mansion at the age of eight, he was brought under the care of Xavier himself. With therapy and self reflection, he came to terms of his sin and how he was capable of convincing all those kids to end their lives so that they wouldn't have to experience the torture of having their powers extracted from their bodies for a villainous agenda.

This is something that haunts him to this day, along with the pressures of being favored by Xavier. Part of him wonders if he will ever forgive himself for murdering all those innocent kids. His therapist said that he was young and afraid, and yet that doesn't excuse the deed he did. He had no right to decide their fate. He had no right to kill them.

Or maybe, he did.

Family Tree

The only individuals that Tristan pays any mind to is the one he is learning from and the one his mentor has a long and storied past with. Professor X wants to change the minds of the oppressors, while Magneto has the power to take freedom and impose dominance over their aggressors. He respects both of them and their ideologies but he wants to surpass them. He wants to be the best, even along side his future peers that come from strong, impossible to compete with bloodlines. His goal is to become a key player or die trying. His powers are heavily telepathic leaning, however, he believes if he pushes himself beyond his limit, he can climb the ranks.

Abilities

As far as the X-Men know, Tristan has displayed an extraordinary level of telepathy. They have no idea how far his psionic powers can reach, but based on Xavier's observations, deductions, and experiences, he truly believes Tristan can follow in his footsteps and become the next greatest telepath known in the universe. Whether he surpasses him or not is a different story entirely.

Like Professor X, Tristan can read minds and project his own thoughts into the minds of others within a radius of 250 miles. He can extend the radius using extreme effort. It has taken most of Tristan's childhood to shut the voices out. Even with intensive mind and body training, the voices slip in occasionally, causing him to show signs of hostility. He is required to take an injection daily in order to surpass his powers so he doesn't compromise his sanity or lose control.

The X-Men would like to avoid repeating history: Onslaught.

Tristan can do everything Xavier can do. The biggest difference, though? Professor X has over eighty years of experience and has conquered most if not all of his demons. Tristan has not. So, although he is capable of achieving a lot, his personal war within himself prevents him from being the best that he can be.

Some of his abilities like Professor X: telepathic illusions, clocking his presence from being detached, as well as others, mind linking, mind blasting people with information, mind control, mind possession, mind alteration, mental amnesia, psionic shield, psionic blasts, astral projection, mental detection, absorb information, and a low-level telekinesis.

Unique abilities that aren't necessarily similar to his Mentor's: dreamscaping, adoptive muscle memory, and brainwave-related manipulation such as sleep inducement, paralysis, and agony control.

Weaknesses: Those with mental barriers. Tristan wants to try to grow his low-level telekinetic abilities so he can use concussive blasts as his offensive ability, but that may be near impossible since it's obvious affecting the brain is his strong suit. Since he isn't necessarily a genius like Professor X, he's smart but hardly a brainiac, he may not perfect all his telepathic abilities. If he can at Mobius Academy, he wants to find his signature power set that makes him his own brand rather than being another Xavier.

Mobius Academy: The City in the Sky

@Hey Im Jordan@Altered Tundra 1 out of 2. Her list of abilities are descriptive because I was referring to Laura and Wolverine, while also changing some things up to make her own brand.

Lex

"I don't know why I feel this way, but I do... if it takes my conviction to start a ripple effect, I'll gladly kill anyone who gets in my way. I want to follow my real mother's path. I want to be the catalyst for change, the end of those who created me.”
_{Face Claim — Lucy Boynton | Color — ffabbc}

Name

Alexa "Lex" Wright

Superhero Alias

X-50 _{(At school I plan for her to go by the alias 'Catalyst' eventually.)}

Age

18

Sex

Female

Sexual Orientation

Doesn't know — this is unexplored territory and for all she knows, she might be asexual.

Hero Connection

Clone of Laura Kinney (X-23); Current resident at the X Mansion.

Appearance

For someone who was raised to be a killing machine, she has impeccable style. Think a cross between Gossip Girl's Blair Waldorf and Cher from Clueless. From knee high socks to being 'pretty in pink', she has come to believe this is what is socially acceptable for a female. Two years ago, she came to Xavier Institute for Higher Learning in a patient gown and a muzzle on, now she dresses like the girls she sees on TV and the magazines, using an allowance given to her by Professor X himself. Regardless of where she finds her clothing (and whether or not she actually spends the money given to her), she looks like she just walked out of a Vogue photoshoot. That being said, her wardrobe needs to be replenished often because of her... natural instincts. She may look like a lady, but one should never forget what she actually is.

Personality Traits

Honest → Intuitive → Objective → Stubborn → Childish → Destructive

Secret Origin

At the age of sixteen, Lex came to Xavier's academy with her pale skin stained with blood and a trail of maroon footsteps in the pure white snow. With the visible claws appearing to come from in and out of her knuckles, it wasn't hard to figure out where she came from. The X-Men knew that the top-secret program known as Weapon X tried to once again recreate their greatest creations, Wolverine and his genetic twin/daughter, Laura Kinney.

With time and building her trust, they discovered that X-50 had an almost identical genetic material to Laura, but there was something different about her too. She wasn't just Laura's daughter. Something else was intertwined in her DNA, which gave her unique mutations, and to this day they cannot identify the organisms (or so they say).

The mutant geneticist scientist and surrogate mother, who they were able to discern during a long session with Lex and a facial composite artist, went by the name of Lucille Wright. Her reputation was renown, but not for good reasons and as 'Lady Imprint'. She is caught on video showing signs of telepathic and telekinetic mutations and has been compared to villains like Doctor Otto Octavius. Her whereabouts are unknown and as long as Lex has no recollection of the memories of her past, aside from distinct imagery like an operating table, they won't find her anytime soon, assuming she's still alive.

Simply by smelling a small item Lex found in her prison, she was able to pick up a lingering memory of Laura and a fading scent. This was like a trail of bread crumbs that led her to the X-Men. As far as they know to be true, psychometry through her sense of smell is her only telepathic mutation. Other than that, she has no resistance to someone entering her mind. Unfortunately because of her amnesia, there isn't much to discover when exploring it. Think a blank canvas that paints something as her day happens but fades overnight. Slowly but surely, they are helping her join society.

Professor X has tasked his protégé, Tristan Castillo, with studying her, taking care of her, and protecting others from her, which means Lex will be attending Mobius Academy along side her 'brother'. Xavier is aware there is a nanochip attached to her brain, but has chose to keep that information to himself.

Family Tree

Abilities

• Mutant Physiology - As the daughter of Laura Kinney, the clone's reserved "eggs" implanted in Dr. Wright, X-50 possesses most of her mutant powers, which means she possesses similar abilities to Wolverine, as well.
  
  • Superhumanly Acute Senses - Animal-like senses. She's capable of seeing at a great distance with perfect clarity, in light and darkness. With her enhanced hearing, she can pick up sounds that ordinary humans cannot hear.
    
    • Special mutation: Psychometry sense of smell - she can track targets by their scent, obtain sensations/memories/information from smelling objects, and catch dangerous substances in food/boxes/containers/behind doors with a high impressive degree of success, like a hound dog.
  • Regenerative Healing Factor - X-50's primary mutant power is an accelerated healing factor that enables her to regenerate damaged or destroyed tissue with far greater speed and efficiency than an ordinary human. She is capable of fully healing injuries resulting in massive tissue damage and blood loss such as multiple bullet wounds, slash wounds, and puncture wounds within a matter of minutes. Like X-23, she is capable of reattaching severed limbs and can even grow body parts, if allowed the time. Her healing factor may fluctuate with her psychological state, but due to her 'amnesia' this is rarely an issue.
    
    • Immunity - to foreign chemicals and diseases.
    • Resistance - to pain and poison because of her unique trait (read poisonous slash and poisonous vessel).
    • Longevity - slow aging process.
  • Superhuman Stamina, Agility, Reflexes, Durability - Self-explanatory.
• Bone Claws - Has four distinct, retractable, medium-sized Adamantium enhanced claws (smaller than her predecessors', think cat-like) which resemble that of a Bagh Nakh (tiger claw weapon). These claws are housed beneath the skin and muscle. Unsheathing them causes her skin to tear and bleed, but the wounds are quickly dealt with by her healing factor. The claws are naturally sharp and tougher than normal human bone, allowing X-50 to cut through most types of flesh and natural materials.
• Poisonous Slash - What separates her from her predecessors is her specialized spur that appears out of the side of her wrist, on command (so it doesn't always appear with her other claws), which is connected to a venom gland, similar to that of a male platypus but activated ALL the time instead of just mating season.
• Expert Covert Ops Training - A living weapon, with knowledge over a variety of weaponry and an expert in assassination techniques.
• Other skills thanks to her mutations and training: Expert Tracker, Master Martial Artist, Master Acrobat, Gifted Militant/Tactical Intellect, Multilingual (English, Russian, German, Mandarin, Spanish, Arabic).
• Unusual flaw/perk
  
  • Amnesia - She has very little knowledge on why she knows what she knows and has no recollection of her past, aside from two prominent faces. Someone deliberately caused her to filter out her time being experimented on which causes her attacks to be intentional and deliberate instead of out of anger and trauma. She is seemingly more robot than human, having to mimic her peers in order to be like them, and has not shown a 'rage' state like Wolverine. With further study, one may discover when she sleeps she 'resets' and 'erases' any unnecessary information that may affect her ability to fight. Dr. Wright has implanted a nanoid in her brain that compartmentalizes the emotional memories residing in Lex's mind and masks it.
• Weaknesses
  
  • Childlike curiosity - Due to her amnesia, she is intrigued by all those around her and wants to learn what it takes to be a proper human. She has no idea if she has a soul and wonders if there is anyway for her to harness empathy like all the X-Men seem to display, especially like Professor X, who she admires thanks to his protégé. Tristan is tasked with helping her through her morning routine (a routine that gets her to remember some people, places, and things).
  • Poisonous vessel - The downside of having two glands of poison, when she uses her wrist claws she feels poisoned, may even cough up blood and feel faint, but because of her healing factor she survives. If she attacks repeatedly with those claws, for a long period of time, she may drop on the floor and convulse, failing to allow her healing power to catch up with her attacks. Unfortunately, her amnesia which is supposed to make her 'stronger', tends to fog her mind when it comes to the dangers of using her spurs too much. Her poisonous “upgrade” is connected to one of her most traumatic experiences.

Mobius Academy: The City in the Sky

just in case...

FC & color reservation:
Tristan Castillo; Protégé to Professor Charles Francis Xavier.
FC: Benjamin Wadsworth, 008040

aesthetic

Alexa "Lex" Wright; Clone of Laura Kinney (X-23).
--raised by the current Xavier Institute Staff, after her escape from the newest 'Weapon X' government genetic research facility. Specifically shadows her 'brother' figure, Tristan, and will be attending Mobius with him to one, learn more about being human, and two, obtain her hero license and use her skills to help continue Professor X's mission.
FC: Lucy Boynton, ffabbc

aesthetic

Mobius Academy: The City in the Sky

Hello :3

The EyeSight 2020 Festival Tour (Band SoL RP)

I will force myself to do this sheet this week. Sorry for procrastinating so much!

Mobius Academy: City in the Sky | A MHA Inspired Marvel RP

I miiiiiight be interested but imma give some time to think about it and a concept

Palm Beach Royals: Class Reunion

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"Oh okay, so you're an expert now." Reina sarcastically chuckled to the robust man behind the wheel. He was trying to shed some words of wisdom to her, which was predictable. She should've expected this long car ride would be his opportunity to 'guide' her rather than be proud about everything she's achieved. "I'm sorry the way I live worries you, but dude, I'm thriving. I'm 'bout to film a STUDIO picture. That's huge for my career." Absentmindedly, she rubbed her pointer finger with her thumb, which was an anxious tick she obtained when she was younger. "I live life and you consider it flighty. That's just who I am, Clay." His lack of response made her stomach churn, as if she wasn't nervous enough for this upcoming school reunion. She was excited to see all her friends together again, don't get her wrong, but the idea that her demons she spent years battling may come back from the dead put her in a soft panic that only grew the closer they got to the Keys. A huge part of her childhood was waiting there for her and that realization seemed to make her feel things that she thought she put past her.

Expectantly and eagerly waiting, she watched his face go from stoic to tense. He's been expressing his feelings this entire ride and now he wants to go silent? Where was Clementine when she needed her? When he finally opened his mouth, she let out a sigh of relief. Although she pretended to act like she didn't want to hear what he had to say, she sought out her brother's advice on numerous occasions and held his opinion in high regard. "I never said I wasn't proud of you." With those words, Reina leaned back in her chair, reflecting on how she might be taking her emotions and uneasiness out on him. He was trying to catch up and be there for her, yet some how she was twisting his words and making it more offensive than they actually were. Her brother wasn't an angry person anymore and she knew he understood the power of speech more than most. Everything he's said up to this point had good intention. No malice. He didn't have an inkling of wrath left in him, thanks to a hot yoga instructor that chose a life with him over everything else.

Clayton held the steering wheel with one hand, while his other hand rubbed his temples in frustration. Such a defensive reaction. No matter how many years came and went, she can never let go of this conviction that she has something to prove. "I'm trying to understand why you can't appreciate the NOW. You're constantly seeking something bigger and better. This job opportunity will give you a high, but you won't be satisfied. You rarely are. Sure, you have direction, but you live life like you're running out of time when right now, you need to think of where you are and what you have going for you. What do you want? How do you define happiness? Why did you even marry that... guy... in the first place?"

Yeah, he'd slip that in. Might as well while she's stuck in the car with him. Clayton saw this divorce coming a mile away. Two people that got bored easily. What were the chances they would truly, deeply last forever? And on top of that, Elijah was constantly trying to change who Reina was, even going out of his way to ask Clay for advice - that didn't end well, mind you.

"So THAT'S it." Figures. He never did like Elijah and unlike her brother and Barr, she didn't see marriage as some sacred bond between soulmates. Marriage was a social construct where two individuals chose to make it 'official' by a legal document and the reward? Benefits. More benefits than most people realize. It isn't some natural phenomenon. It adds some legality to someone you might want to spend the rest of your life with, when the truth of it all was: this is some over-exaggerated bullshit. There's so much made-up lawfulness, ceremonies, and traditions tied into it. Something natural can only be broken by nature itself, and here she was, without an ounce of guilt or obligation, ready to agree to Elijah's wishes and terms to separate because they no longer were able to fulfill each other's needs.

They weren't young and dumb anymore. Nowadays, they sought out more than the person they used as a crutch to aid in their success. For her, his money was fine and dandy in the beginning until she started making her own and no longer needing him. For him, he craved to catch her, like a wild fox he wanted to domesticate. He wanted to keep her fire to himself and only came to learn such a feat was impossible unless he impregnated her. He wasn't evil, okay. Just selfish. Their paths, like the stars in the sky, failed to align; all because she was the way she was and not because he had egocentric tendencies, and came to despise her wanderlust and ambition. The very fiber of her being. She, who would never, could never change for anyone.

Before she responded, her dark gaze fell on her wedding band and how artificial it must be for her to wear it. "I don't always do things with a plan. Sometimes, I need to do something to remind myself that I have control over my narrative. I took a hard left turn for Elijah, but... I don't regret him. You know how I feel about marriage. He came in my life when I needed something new and maybe, just maybe he was that risk I needed to take to be where I am I today. He used me. I used him. We're not saints."

She couldn't help but shake her head at all this. How weird she must be for trying something out, only for a taste, but knowing just as much as everyone else that it wouldn't last, "No one is." After taking a deep sigh in and out, she concluded, "I don't think I would've realized how little I needed him. Or anyone for that matter. Yeah, marrying him may have been going too far but this was a good mistake I needed to make. Who knows maybe it could've changed my mind on the whole thing! It didn't. But, it helped me... become me. Am I making sense?"

Clayton's eyes rested on her face. His lips lifted upward, which showed that warm glow she knew oh-so-well. A softness that she was fortunate to see ever since she could remember. Something that would make girls uncomfortable, having some effect on their breathing, causing it to go shallow, as they gasped for air. A loving smile that brought her comfort, even while they talk about these subjects she didn't have answers for. "Yeah, I get it. In a weird Reina fashion, you did what you needed to do. And... I admire that about you."

She returned the smile... perhaps, getting this all out of her chest would be a good thing before she reunited with some old, familiar faces. Particularly one.

---

Her brother went as far as to park his car and carry her things to her hotel room. Room 105. They embraced before he told her to have fun and then he was off, on his way for another long drive back home. She offered for him to nap on her bed, but he was quick to decline. He had a woman he needed to get back to. Once he was gone, Reina decided to do what she does best. Explore. The night prior she didn't get much sleep because she and Clementine spent it telling each other stories, eating junk food, and drinking wine. No she wasn't hung over. She didn't drink nearly as much as Barr. The rational thing for her to do was try to rest before the party, but she wouldn't be her if she did that. There was too much she wanted to do and sleeping would only waste her time.

Walking outside, leaving her camera and clothes unpacked and behind, she strolled to the pool and looked out to the gorgeous, deep blue. She could only imagine how it would look when the sun set. It was already such a visual spectacle. This instant caused her to think of someone she was doing so well at not thinking about. She wondered how he was holding up, if he was happy and found his calling. Was it strange for her to be curious about his livelihood? To be curious about...him? Shaking the mental image she had of him out of her head, she turned away from the scenic view and went back inside, examining every nook and cranny there was to this beautiful resort.

Amanda outdid herself. At least that's one thing she can like about the hostess. Her exquisite taste.

Palm Beach Royals: Class Reunion

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Standing in front of the resort, across the street, leaned against a lamp post, Grayson Chambers fiddled with his late friend's classic zippo lighter. Making flame with the cigarette lighter, just to close it shut and forcibly make it dissipate. Again and again. Perhaps, this was a nervous tick, since he hadn't seen the majority of these individuals for ten years. Perhaps, he was buying himself time. Regardless of the reasoning behind his fidgeting, it was obvious, he wasn't ready to enter the building. In silence, he watched as a familiar face exited a taxi cab... Allison. Appearance-wise, she hadn't changed a bit.

As he watched his old classmate, who he had no doubt still hated him, enter the hotel, his mind started thinking about the man that wasn't standing next to him, filling this place with his infectious laughter. Jason Graves. A man who should be here taking on this beast that was the ghost of their high school past. The sweetest comic book nerd you'd ever meet. Grasyon couldn't help but revisit the feelings he went through last year. There were times he felt like he could easily mask his stresses and smile like he knew what he was doing half the time, but today felt strange. Today felt like he might encounter something that would effortlessly take down the defenses he's built over the years.

Thinking of Jason and Elizabeth only brought him grief. As if he could've prevented the 'accident' from happening. There was guilt because, to him, he did have control over the direction their story ended. Elizabeth, as strong and confidant as she seemed, confided in him about her postpartum depression. Something she couldn't go to her husband about because he already felt ashamed that she had to compromise her dreams for him and their child. He still replays those last words she said on that day, as she grabbed the keys off the kitchen counter, and he held his goddaughter, "Gray, you love her, don't you?" Of course. Why wouldn't he? Millie was his life, as were they.

His memories were vivid, like their last day together only happened yesterday. He stood there, watching from a cold distance, while his friends rushed to leave for their day. He wasn't there. Not really. His mind was focused on figuring out what happened to a dead woman's body he found the day before on the east-west line near 41st street running west from the lakefront, where part of the abandoned Chicago Junction Railway use to be. Why didn't he pay attention to the signs? Jason came rushing out, grabbing Millie from him, and left to the car. It wasn't like he didn't notice. Elizabeth stared at him desperately, internally screaming for help, while she locked her apartment's door for the last time.

To this day, he still beats himself up about it. How could he solve a homicide case but not see when his friends needed him? Like really needed him? Was he that emotionally detached to understand when someone he loved simply wanted him to be there for them? Staring at the glass entrance, he wondered if he did truly grow from when he was in high school. Did he improve his way of thinking and believed that there was more to life than people using other people? That love was not a mental weakness and that being genuinely honest was not just an example of being spineless?

Closing the lighter for one last time, Grayson looked up to the blaring Florida sun and thought of some of the faces he had to see again. People he needed to admit fault to, because he was a callous asshole in high school, and that resulted in him hurting them terribly. Who's to say he even changed much? Not him, that's for sure. Deeply sighing, as a ringtone that was hardly him (but hey, he let his goddaughter choose) disrupted his brooding thoughts, Gray pocketed the lighter and switched it out with his phone. Answering it, his somber aura began to glow with comfort.

Pulling his suitcase with his freehand, he listened to her melodious voice and answered to her cheer with a fatherly grin, "Looks like you and auntie got my text. How's your day going, Kiddo?" His goddaughter explained to him her day so far (also slipping in that she wanted many souvenirs and presents) and when he approached the front desk he pointed to the poster on the wall that said 'Class of 2009: The King's Academy West Palm Beach - Est. 1970 - 10 Years Later', before showing his ID. "What's that? You want to see Grandpa? Maybe if you're good, we'll visit for Thanksgiving." Pause. "Oh, you mean forever..."

Out of habit, he started analyzing the woman in front of him. He hoped, at least for this weekend, he could shut this part of his brain off. The way her eyes surveyed him, with such an impish gleam plastered on her face, she's already made a casual assessment on his appearance. Seeing how there is a dent on her left ring finger, she's removed a band that is tighter than she'd like it to be and does it every once in awhile, so that the dent stays there. As for how she displays herself physically, her hair's coiffured to perfection and her nails painted to match the little accessories on her, like that green neck scarf, in hopes to still bring out her beauty, even with such a mundane uniform on.

Her fluid motions to let her skirt ride up her thighs ever so slightly is an obvious deduction that she is well aware of what her body can do. She strategically moves her hands in a way that it hides the calluses from what he presumed would be a musical dream gone nowhere. While she may have thought she was well kept, keeping everything hidden from others, the dark circles, that she so horribly failed at covering up, was a dead giveaway that she was completely and utterly miserable with where her life was. But, it was that sadness that she used to lure men in. Like she knew men would want to save her, if they realized how damaged she was. Hardly authentic. A complete bore, honestly.

Grayson and the receptionist locked eyes before she gave him his room keys and a pamphlet, "Room 203. Look at you, you're right beside the person who threw this all together! I'm jealous." In that moment, the woman in front of him did not matter. Gray realized how much he filtered one person out of his mind, focusing on everything but her, even if her John Hancock was on the bottom right of his invite, "What?

Millie, with sass from Aphrodite herself, repeated what she said (which she hated to do) in his ear, "I said, we should MOVE because I wanna' go to the beaches and have Shirley Temples with papa! Anyways, auntie and I have a lot of shopping to do with your money, so I'll talk to you later, Chief. Love youuuuuuuu~!"

"I—" The line went dead. _{"—love you too."}

Wait, shouldn't she be in school? Grayson was stunned briefly, before snapping back to the present reality by the 'chipper' receptionist, "I hope you enjoy your stay!" Dully blinking at her, he grabbed his keys and strode to his next destination, pulling his suitcase behind him and realizing who was going to stay right next to him, these next couple of days.

Amanda.

Ahead of him, he caught sight of Willow, which helped get the image of the bewitching woman out of his head, replacing it instead with a mirror of his former self. He thought about calling out to her, but decided against it. It was neither the time nor place to try to make amends with her. The annoyance and regret slithered its way back into him.

He hated this.

Grayson felt strongly inclined to throw his luggage in his room and get to the bar (in hopes that it was open for service). Whiskey would help him deal with talking to everyone. Maybe he could meet up with Caden and Brent at some point, but knowing Brent he'd want it to be a King's Men affair, which means someone unwanted would be there. Sighing once more, Gray wanted to appreciate the design of the hotel, but it was becoming clearer and clearer by the second how hated he was. That coming to this reunion was a ballsy move on his part.

Entering the elevator, he focused on his breathing. Nothing more, nothing less. An exercise he did to calm his restless mind and focus on being nothing. Feeling nothing. He was nothing.

When the elevator opened, he heard a door close, which could mean that Willow was inside her room and he wasn't going to ruin her day by showing his face. Trying to stay as discrete as possible, Gray searched for his room only to stop at what he assumed was Amanda's. 201. It was either 201 or 205. Something told him she was number 1.

No! He needed to stop this. This wasn't high school all over again. He was better than that. Escaping to the privacy of his room, he hid away before he was forced to interact with anyone and put on his charm. Unceremoniously, he threw his suitcase in the closet and went straight to the bed, laying on his back.