Avatar of Eleven
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    1. Eleven 5 yrs ago

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5 yrs ago
halfway through sƃuᴉɥʇ ɹǝƃuɐɹʇs. torn between wanting to finish and wanting to have more episodes to watch 🙃
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5 yrs ago
oh hai there 👋👋
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very much still interested! just trying to find the time to post.

An ear-piercing shriek. Then a barrage of expletives.

Imogen groaned and forced herself to rouse, vision blurry as she tried to rub away the sleepiness that still pulled at her. It took a couple of seconds to realize that she wasn't in her room (unless they changed the dorm room ceilings into glass just last night) and another five to remember she had somewhere important to be (special mission?!).

"What are you doing in there?" The dark-haired girl looming over her had calmed down enough to stop the wonderfully colorful string of curses she had assailed her with, and even dutifully helped her out of the extra-large but mostly empty planter she had been curled up in. Imogen thanked her for both the helping hand and the handful of new curse words she learned.

"Sleeping," Imogen answered plainly, picking out errant foliage from her messy pink hair and seriously rumpled clothes. She raised her arms in a brief stretch and immediately discovered the consequences of her botched late-night venture. After several days of successful patrols—success here being measured by number of times caught (zero) instead of number of times she has prevented another abduction (also zero)—she had gotten complacent and almost got caught by one of the Pegasus Knights on duty. The greenhouse had been the only way to avoid her line of sight and so she was forced to spend the night there, or risk getting into trouble.

Speaking of the greenhouse-- the sunlight filtered through the glass panels and Imogen was once again reminded of something important she had to do. "Hey, what time is it?"

"Seventh bell just rang… no, hold on, why are--”

"Uh-oh, Clary's gonna be big mad, I gotta go now. Thanks again for waking me up! I'll see you later!" Imogen raced out of the greenhouse, waving goodbye to the bewildered student left to wonder what on Fódlan just happened.

• ────── =͟͟͞͞( •̀д•́)))

She'd forgotten where they were supposed to meet and ended up going to their empty classroom first before checking the Blue Lions' and finding everyone there. Someone else was doing the lecture, not Professor Mik like she assumed—oh, shoot, was that Professor Lav? Imogen recoiled reflexively, guilt bubbling up as she recalled all the times she fell asleep in her class.

Hunched over sheepishly, she found the closest available seat and looked around wildly in attempt to catch herself up on the briefing. Whatever it was seemed serious, judging from the somber looks on some of their faces. Even Jory sounded cranky when raised his hand, which was odd given that he was talking to a pretty professor.

Lin was next to volunteer and Imogen started to pick up on the situation a little more. Okay, so they were being asked to either be away from the 'screaming civilians/hostages' or hang back with them. So they'd be split up in a group to attack and a group to defend? Although normally one to prefer being in the thick of things, because she would be too restless otherwise, Imogen knew immediately what she had to do. She'd been searching for opportunities to help others with her abilities and what better way than this?

"I can protect people!" Imogen jumped up and raised her hand, a determined glint in her eyes. It only occurred to her then to think about how the others might be feeling, after what they'd experienced in Luin. Her friends had gotten hurt before and she absolutely can't let that happen again. "We'll save everyone this time."
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FREYA BRIGHAM


act one: way down we go
p. johnson's
@Gisk @nodogs
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A familiar voice snapped her out of the guilt spiral that was beginning to pull at her, and Freya all but melted gratefully into the arm draped across her shoulder. She didn't need to look at him to know who it was—she could pick out his voice in a crowd. His songs have surprisingly become the background music of her work life.

"Hi there, Bills!" She smiled, gently knocking her head against his shoulder. "Been a while, huh?"

Her gaze followed his as he looked around, realizing that she also had yet to see who actually showed up. There was a trill in her heart as recognition and nostalgia flooded her, memories long buried coming upon her with a rush as she looked from one person to the next. Hanna, she spotted immediately, of course. Seeing her in PJ's reminded Freya how grateful she had been that they reconnected in New York—she had singlehandedly kept her ties to Delton intact.

Standing next to her in all his Magpie glory, was Connor with his unique brand of boyishness. He looked older, but seemed unchanged otherwise; he radiated the same affability he had throughout high school. Surely that could have only served him well all these years? She suddenly missed their night-time drives and wondered idly if he still did them now.

On the other side of Hanna was someone that took her longer to place, her memories of him conflicting with the person she saw now. He's changed a lot, she mused. Her gaze lingered for a moment, slowly piecing the puzzle together. It wasn't until she had gotten a proper look at his eyes that it hit her: Meir. A tiny burst of pride swelled in her chest. Freya didn't know him too well in high school, but in the handful of classes they shared, she knew him to be one of the smartest people at Ritman. It was great to see him flourishing now.

Jack approached them then, seeming eager to move away from the bar, and Freya greeted her with a fond smile. In terms of change, Connor and Meir stood on opposite ends of a spectrum, but Jack seemed to straddle the middle. The nonchalant Jack she knew in High School wouldn't have been the one initiating this get-together, yet somehow, she kept her effortlessly chill and laid-back vibes.

At the mention of Sara's name, her smile threatened to falter. She was quicker to recover this time though and turned to Billy with a smile. He'd asked about drinks and she was more than happy to oblige. "Seems like they got started without us!" Freya asked for his drink order and sauntered to the bar with a playful wink. "But don't worry, I'll catch us right up."

She only allowed herself the briefest sidelong glance at the booth as Jack pulled out a seat to join them. When had she become such a coward?

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For all her interest in Crests and the abilities they bestowed, and despite her vow to make Clary proud by being focused for once, Imogen's attention span could only last so long. Professor Mal had given them too much information in too short a class—way too many Crest categories for her to keep track of—and Imogen's biggest takeaway was that Dogberry was a muscle that she needed to exercise. It made sense, kind of. Just like how she got stronger and faster by running up and down the mountains back home nearly every day, she would have to train so Dogberry would come more naturally to her.

But how do you go about training an imaginary little guy on her shoulder telling her what to watch out for? She can't just imagine him doing pushups and running laps, can she? The thought made her giggle and while she knew that didn't make any sense at all, part of her wished that was how it worked. She entertained the thought for a few moments before waving her hand by her head, as though it would physically shoo her distractions away.

Crest training was fun, but also super important, she had to remind herself. Imogen couldn't wait until the next class to get started. With these disappearances happening, honing her abilities could mean saving a fellow student's life! She was planning on going out to investigate again tonight; how helpful would it be if she could just know right away when someone's getting kidnapped?

Class concluded with Imogen in a daze, eyes glazed over and staring vacantly at the drawings on the board. In the end, the most viable training scenario in the hundreds that she came up with as Professor Mal rambled on was the simplest one: she has to be in danger.

Imogen packed her things automatically as everyone else started filing out the door, now stumped by an entirely new dilemma. How could she put herself in danger? Preferably without injuring herself too much. It's not like she could just climb a tower and jump off—she didn't need Dogberry to tell her that was dangerous. She would have to not know danger was coming so that she could... know it was coming? Uh, it was better not to think too hard about it. She swears it makes sense.

"Oh! Iz, wait up a sec," Imogen called out as she spotted the blonde quietly slipping away as usual. She missed when Clary came back, but as she rushed past her and Jory, she gave her two thumbs up in encouragement. Her way of saying she didn't know what was happening with her, but she had no doubt Clary got this. Look at her, she even looked like she was ready to kick some ass right then and there!

As soon as Imogen caught up to Iz, she rummaged through her satchel and handed her a wadded piece of paper. "Can you throw this at me? I'm trying something out."
@nodogs didn't get as much time over the weekend as I hoped, so don't wait for me if you have a post ready! I was just going to move Freya to the bar anyway, so no big deal if you beat me to it -- i'll just add more to it if that happens.
been super busy this past week, but will be able to post again this weekend! how's everyone doing?

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FREYA BRIGHAM


act one: way down we go
bayfront airbnb p. johnson's
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The stillness that greeted her was surprising at first, a stark contrast to the cacophony conducted by the ever-bustling streets of New York. Mornings were usually hectic and productive to a fault, filled with daily meetings and review sessions with key members of the team. It was a nice change of pace then, however slightly unsettling, to wake up to nothing but the distant calls of birds and the calming rustling of trees. Freya decided to take her morning tea out on the deck. Out there, highlighted by an early ray of sun and tickled by the cool breeze, she was drenched in a wave of nostalgia.

She hummed a soft tune that randomly came to mind. Ah, Billy played that song before, didn't he?

Freya hadn't realized how much she missed Delton until now. For a while, it had been a distant memory; a quiet, nagging regret that lingered in the corner of her mind. After they left so suddenly all those years ago, Delton was never again brought up. If it weren't for Hanna, she might have believed their time there really was just a dream. Her former hometown continued to be a sore spot for her mom, apparently so deeply damaging to her psyche that she would sooner give up half her estates than set foot back there. They never talked about what transpired in that quaint city; not about Ritman or the Bistro. Not about their friends and neighbors. And especially not about her father, whose whereabouts remained unknown to them. Only the frequent transfers to her account signaled he was alive and thriving somewhere in the world.

She couldn't take another year with this mystery unsolved; it was like an itch she couldn't scratch, bothering her all these years. When their magazine partnered with a photographer based in Maine, Freya immediately volunteered to handle the shoot and even agreed to model, an offer she usually declined. It was the justification she needed. She won't be able to back out from this, even if she were to get cold feet, as she had many times before.

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Freya wouldn't have time to explore the town until after their little reunion. She arrived at her Airbnb rental the night before, already too late to go out and wander about. Today's docket, meanwhile, had her glued to the computer from morning until late afternoon. She thought about taking a lunch break at the Bistro, but a twinge in her heart immediately shut down the idea.

She settled for a protein bar and focused on the next thing on her agenda. Work was easy, therapeutic almost, and within moments she fell into her usual routine. It wasn't until things started winding down that she became once again conscious of her unfamiliar environment. Somehow, in this peaceful silence, everything else seemed louder: the clacking of her keys as she drafted an email to the team, the melodic peals of the windchime that came with every gentle breeze, the incessant dinging of her phone as a barrage of notifications began to fill the screen. Freya heaved a sigh and even that echoed in the empty room.

"Trending again already," she noted with a wry smile.

Was it even worth checking at this point? Usually it was inoffensive blather, just a bunch of tweets praising or critiquing her outfit at an event. Once in a while, it was the juicy stuff. Affairs and alleged pregnancies and did she break up with her actor boyfriend already? She thought she would have escaped this world of scandals and gossip by now, but its grasp on her never loosened, pulling her deeper and deeper into its clutches instead.

More notifications, a handful of text messages, six missed calls from mom. Freya ignored all that and laugh-reacted to an innocuous Facebook post by Jack instead.

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It was their former chauffeur that insisted on driving her around town when he heard about her visit. Once upon a time, Lloyd made car rides and road trips with her parents bearable. She didn't think she could ever pay him back for the warmth and kindness he'd shown her all those years ago. When he greeted her with a welcoming hug and a fond "look how much you've grown," she nearly burst into a blubbering mess of tears.

The drive to P. Johnson's was short, barely enough time to prepare herself – although she wasn't exactly sure what she was preparing for, or even why she had to. It just felt like something she should be ready for, like a big presentation where she has to be in full control. Freya stalled just long enough to compose herself. Another deep, centering breath had done the trick, and after she bid Lloyd farewell, all her nerves washed away...

...only to bubble up again at the sound of Sara's voice.

Freya faltered slightly as she walked in, but masterfully masked the quiver of her lips with a half-smile. Familiar and foreign all at once, the sight of Sara brought with it a burst of fond memories and resurfaced guilt. She never got to say goodbye to her, did she? Just up and left without a word, not even a measly text, after she promised she would be there for her after what happened with Will.

Seated across from her was another alumnus--ah, his name was at the tip of her tongue. Eric? No, Lucas, that's right. Freya had every intention of joining them, she swore she did. But her willful feet betrayed her and kept her rooted by the bar's entrance.

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@Odin ooh, yes, go ahead with the PM! :D That's exactly what I was hoping for in terms of their family's connection. I was super excited to explore their dynamics because of their almost parallel powers and backstory, but didn't want to interfere with anything you may have planned. Working together on the backstory would be great!


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