Having now finished it, God of War is a 3/5 and an early contender for this years Breath of the Wild award for 'Most Overrated Game of the Year'.
Fabricant451
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STATUS: You'd think after like 15 years I'd stop feeling like a fraud when writing posts but I still do which is both a statement on my self confidence and a compliment to how good my partners are as writers 25 days ago
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You'd think after like 15 years I'd stop feeling like a fraud when writing posts but I still do which is both a statement on my self confidence and a compliment to how good my partners are as writers
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Why are you talking about Final Fantasy 10 like that
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Final Fantasy 13 is a top five entry in the franchise but ya'll still ain't ready to have that conversation
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Bio
Look, I got lost on the way to getting some jajangmyeon and it'd be foolish to leave now.
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Dibs on bass unless someone else also wants bass
@Fabricant451 and @Universorum
Location: The Karaoke room!
Featuring: Zachary “Shortstack” Webb and Sam “Amazon” Lassiter
Here he was!
A real, live, actually happening party! On a boat! Zach was pumped. He’d signed a guestbook, walked onto the boat, and now he was near the karaoke machine, which was near the food! Zach was happily carrying a plate of fully loaded nachos, which he was eating as he walked around, looking more at the sights than the people he was risking running into. He was bobbing his head to the music, and listening to the current person standing at the karaoke machine with a huge smile on his face. The smile had found its way to his lips as he’d walked up the boat to begin with, and it wasn’t going anywhere!
No way, no how. Zach didn’t need his friends to come here for him to have a good time. He was clearly capable of enjoying himself with or without them. He didn’t need to sit at home and play Hearthstone, or FFXIV, or even build magic decks to enjoy himself. He could party! That was a good thing, right? Brian had invited everyone! Zach had tried to fight the good fight and invite his friends along, but they had been insistent that nothing good would come of the party. Of any party! Zach, respectfully, now disagreed.
Whether or not he was having a good time was not the question. Zach was definitely enjoying himself, but to be honest? Parties weren’t his scene, and he definitely looked like a fish out of water in the scene of the party: he was short, he wasn’t really hot, he wasn’t loud or rambunctious… He was actually usually a quiet kid! Right now, you could think of him as a sightseer, just… seeing the sights. Enjoying the sounds and flavors of the party… “WHOA!”
Of course, seeing the sights meant that he wasn’t seeing directly in front of himself. This led to him bumping into some incredibly tall person, and knocking their beer out of their hand, which spilled onto his nachos (a true tragedy if he’d ever heard of one), and then it fell down to the ground and landed on his shoes and the mystery person’s shoes.
“Oh man, oh man. I am so sorry, dude, oh man.” Zach looked up slowly at the person he’d bumped into, “I didn’t mean to, I guess I wasn’t watch— whoa.” Zach’s eyes had finally found their way all the way up the long legs and torso of the person he’d ran into, to find that she was not only a girl, but hot.
“Whoa…” Zach had never been this close to a hot girl before! Geeze, she was so much taller than him… Why was he so short?!
If there hadn’t been a karaoke machine then Sam Lassiter probably would’ve left by now.
Sam was in a unique position when it came to parties, especially ones of this caliber. As a member of the so-called upper echelon of the social hierarchy she was invited to parties almost by default, and yet most of the time she didn’t even enjoy them all that much. She couldn’t afford to get sloppy ass drunk so the excessive drinking aspect of these things was out of the question and she got enough of a high from feeling that snap as her fist relocated a few jaw bones on a poor sod, so drugs were unnecessary. Dancing was also a bit too much to ask. While Sam was a demon in the ring, when it came to the dancefloor she was about as coordinated as a horse on rollerblades. No one would likely make fun of her for it, except probably Owen and Liv, but even though Sam could laugh at herself where it counted that didn’t mean it didn’t suck to experience.
Fortunately this yacht had a karaoke machine that was even hooked up to a big screen so people who were singing didn’t have to scrunch together to read the lyrics off the machine monitor which made for a singing area that was all encompassing. As soon as she found the machine, she flocked to it, demanding first ups which wasn’t a problem as at the time no one was even bothering. When someone like Sam Lassiter picked up the microphone and treated passersby to a damn great rendition of What’s My Age Again followed by an encore performance of You Oughta Know which encouraged others to stick around and belt out their drunken renditions of songs from yesterday to yesteryear.
Parties weren’t really Sam’s thing, but she loved karaoke which helped encourage her to stick around. There were many ways to just let loose and let out stress, but when there wasn’t a heavy bag around then belting out ballads in front of an increasingly drunk audience was a damn good substitute. And she just liked to sing regardless of her ability at it which hovered around ‘well, if she was in the shower it’d be Grammy worthy.’ With can of beer in hand, Sam was coming around to having a good time simply hanging out and silently judging when people with no sense of flow tried to do a rap song, and indulging herself in some trashy junk food that was gonna go right to her thighs. It was shaping up to be a not completely dull night.
Right as Sam was raising her beer to take a sip, her body lurched forward and the can of beer slipped from her fingers. It splashed everywhere, but to Sam the fact that her Combat Club jacket now had a giant beer stain on it was the worst. She liked that jacket, she didn't’ have to pay for it and her wearing it was like free advertising. Sam had to take it off now, leaving her with a black tank top and an annoyed expression on her lips.
”What the fuck, dude.” Sam turned her steely blues to the Beer Spiller and scoffed. She almost felt sorry for the kid, probably some nerdy frosh at his first party, but that’s no excuse. Sam wasn’t exactly hard to see if you were blind. ”Don’t just fucking stand there gawking, get me another beer, dude.” Sam’s voice was agitated, but given her height and the husky twinge to her voice she often came off angrier to the layman.
This Amazonian woman was going to murder him. He’d had a good run. At least he’d always have Magic the Gathering tournament wins to look back on! Or that time he was in the top ten in the Hearthstone ladder. He had a few good moments to remember, just not that many, which was part of the reason he’d gone to the party in the first place! Make a few memories, get together, have a few laughs. That’s it! Laughs! Laughs could solve this issue, before it got any worse. If he laughed the awkwardness, the terribleness away, then all that would be left would be the humor. Right?
Zach called upon every bit of self-preservation he had within himself, and pushed away the scared look on his face, and replaced it instead with a dopey grin. Then he started laughing. It was awkward, and forced at first, but it soon changed into something more natural — and Zach had an alright natural laugh. It wasn’t annoying, and it wasn’t graceful per se, but it did have that infectious quality to it. After a few seconds the laugh faded away, and Zach shook his head.
“My friends told me that if I went to a party, I’d regret it. And here I am! In danger! Because I wasn’t paying attention, and ran into some super tall girl who was wearing a shirt that said ‘Combat Club’ in big letters.” Zachary sighed, and looked up at Sam (dude, those growth spurts couldn’t come any faster? seriously?). “Before you murder me, can I at least put these nachos down? To lessen the mess we make.”
As far as laughter went, there was only one person doing it. When the short beer spiller began to laugh Sam took a glance around the room, gauging the reaction and searching for clarification if she was, in fact, seeing this clearly. Maybe the kid had some sort of social disorder or something, like that little blonde girl that Sam let on her back while Sam pretended to be a fantasy creature flying through the air. But that was cute and this was just...weird.
”Murder you?” The question came with a raised eyebrow and a look of genuine, utter confusion. ”Dude, you spilled a beer, what you think I’m some kinda Johnny Lawrence bully type? I’m not gonna murder you, just get me a new one.” Whatever ideas this kid had in mind she wanted no part of. Sure, she was annoyed that there was a beer stain on her jacket, but beer washed out and it was at least better than grease stains or nacho cheese or some other fluid.
”By the way, you’ve got nacho on your shirt.” Sam pointed at the murder seeker’s shirt and assuming he looked she was absolutely going to flick her finger up and flick his nose for the trouble.
Zach immediately felt a wave of relief wash over him. Honest? He was incredibly intimidated by this woman, and he was happy to hear that she wasn’t going to murder him. When she mentioned Johnny Lawrence, even briefly, Zach visibly perked up. He understood that reference! He understood it clearly. “Haven’t you watched Cobra Kai? Johnny’s the good guy!” Zach protested, before glancing down at his shirt to look at the nacho.
Instead, he found nothing but a finger that bopped his nose. He glanced up with very suddenly wide eyes, having not expected that in the slightest. He did his best to push that away, reminded of the awkwardness that he’d created with his own laugh, and gulped. Get her a beer? Yeah, he could do that. “Okay, I can get you a beer. What kind of beer? They have, like, brands, right? I’ve never had one before…” He said, glancing around the room to see where he would even get a beer. Eventually, he laid his eyes on a corner with a few different kegs in the corner, and pointed at it, glancing at the girl for validation.
“Over there, right? I’ll, uh, be right back.” He said, giving her a thumbs up, though it was unclear if it was meant to encourage him or her more. With his eyes glued to the floor, Zach shuffled across the room, suddenly aware of the eyes glued to him. Was it that bad? He’d just forced himself to laugh! He made his way to the keg and filled up a cup, after setting the permanently ruined nachos aside. He turned around and started to walk back to her, before he stopped, and turned back around. He filled up a second cup, and then went back to her with both of them. He handed her one of the red cups, and then held his up as well, “hey, cheers, right?”
Well, the short stack wasn’t a total dweeb if he could recognize the classics when he heard them, but it was still almost a comedy of errors as she watched him try to parse ‘get me a beer’. The oldest trick in the book of flicking his nose made Sam amused but that quickly gave way to a blank expression of disbelief. This guy wasn’t serious, right? She was damn near impressed that he didn’t trip over himself on the way to the beer corner. It didn’t really matter which keg he chose, it all tasted basically the same but even still she raised both eyebrows, tightened her lips and gave a nod at the selected keg; it was the kind of nod that would normally have been punctuated by turning to her friends and sharing a laugh but instead Sam was left to simply blink in awe that someone so...uncoordinated actually existed.
”You’ve never had a beer before have you?” Sam asked when her new cup was given to her with a fair bit more foam than she liked, but those were the sacrifices when someone else poured from the tap. ”Go on, drink it. But it doesn’t count unless you drink the whole thing in one go. It’s like...the rule. First cup you gotta down it.” Sam was absolutely fucking with him, but she figured he was the type that wouldn’t be able to tell. Given that he thought she was going to kill him she had good reason to think it.
Zach stared at the foamy liquid for a few seconds, before he glanced at the girl again, then back down at the cup. “What? The whole thing?” He asked, before sniffing at the liquid. He wasn’t sure about this, it kinda smelled… icky. But, she had said so, and Zach couldn’t think of any reason not to trust her! “Uh, okay.” He lifted the cup up to his lips, and prepared himself to drink it down. Luckily, Zach had practice at drinking and eating things he didn’t like. Years of being a picky eater had trained him well!
He went to tip it back into his mouth, and froze, pulling it away before a drop met his lips. He took the cup down, and glanced up at the tall woman again. “Hey, my name is Zachary, by the way. But you can call me Zach.” Then he tipped the beer back, along with his neck. To Zach’s credit, he did swallow it all down in one go. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to ignore the taste quite as well as he’d hoped he’d be able to, and after he pulled the cup away, he made a face. “Oh, that’s gross!”
Sam was only slightly disappointed when her little harmless drinking prank went off without so much as a hitch. Figuring that a first timer would try to impress and spectacularly fail by coughing or gagging while trying to chug, when the shorty got away with only minor inconvenience Sam wasn’t sure if she should give him props or try for double down. She opted to simply sip at her own cup of beer without much in the way of comment. She didn’t have to say much, her eyes giving the soft stack a once over said enough.
”Didn’t ask your name, Zachary, I asked for a beer, which I have now. I know you probably can’t see as well down there, but watch out in the future. Some people might actually kill you for spilling their beer.” Some sound advice from the junior who mostly took the incident in stride. It wasn’t worth taking action over. No use crying over spilt milk - or beer in this case. ”And don’t eat the nachos. They’ll stunt your growth.”
“I’ll, uh, try? Thanks.” Zach said, looking down at his empty cup. He made a mental note to never drink beer again, ever, in his entire life. When she said that bit about not eating nachos, he was a little disappointed, but he decided to take her advice. After all, she was tall as fuck — and he didn’t want to risk staying shorter than she was. There was, of course, a slight chance that he’d never see her again, but Zach had a feeling she wouldn’t be very hard to pick out of a crowd in the future. “Well, you have a beer now, so I guess I’ll take my leave…” Zach gave her bit of a wave, and then turned to leave, walking off into the crowd.
In his head, he was replaying the incident over and over again, and was coming to the realization that he had a crush. A crush who could sing (karaoke at least, but it counted), was very tall (growth spurts, please!?), super hot (Whoa.), and went to the 365 Combat Club. At least he had a place where he could find her now. He’d have to talk to his mother and figure out how best to get a girl to like him… High school was gonna be so complicated now! And his only two friends were worthless to ask about this particular situation.
Sam took another sip of her beer as the awkward boy made his equally awkward exit. Who the hell said ‘take my leave’? At least he didn’t have a fedora or call her ‘m’lady’ or something, so he had that going for him; plus he lucked out and only had a mild case of hazing from an upperclassman. It could’ve been a lot worse, depending on who he had run into. Literally, at that. She didn’t even watch him leave before her attention was back to more immediately pressing concerns, like when it was her next go on karaoke and how long the smell of beer lingered. Her aunt was going to flip if the beer stench tracked to other clothes in the wash.
”Fuckin freshmen." With a shake of her head and a sip of beer, Sam went back to keeping herself entertained as a member of the volleyball team was about to try their hand at rapping.
A real, live, actually happening party! On a boat! Zach was pumped. He’d signed a guestbook, walked onto the boat, and now he was near the karaoke machine, which was near the food! Zach was happily carrying a plate of fully loaded nachos, which he was eating as he walked around, looking more at the sights than the people he was risking running into. He was bobbing his head to the music, and listening to the current person standing at the karaoke machine with a huge smile on his face. The smile had found its way to his lips as he’d walked up the boat to begin with, and it wasn’t going anywhere!
No way, no how. Zach didn’t need his friends to come here for him to have a good time. He was clearly capable of enjoying himself with or without them. He didn’t need to sit at home and play Hearthstone, or FFXIV, or even build magic decks to enjoy himself. He could party! That was a good thing, right? Brian had invited everyone! Zach had tried to fight the good fight and invite his friends along, but they had been insistent that nothing good would come of the party. Of any party! Zach, respectfully, now disagreed.
Whether or not he was having a good time was not the question. Zach was definitely enjoying himself, but to be honest? Parties weren’t his scene, and he definitely looked like a fish out of water in the scene of the party: he was short, he wasn’t really hot, he wasn’t loud or rambunctious… He was actually usually a quiet kid! Right now, you could think of him as a sightseer, just… seeing the sights. Enjoying the sounds and flavors of the party… “WHOA!”
Of course, seeing the sights meant that he wasn’t seeing directly in front of himself. This led to him bumping into some incredibly tall person, and knocking their beer out of their hand, which spilled onto his nachos (a true tragedy if he’d ever heard of one), and then it fell down to the ground and landed on his shoes and the mystery person’s shoes.
“Oh man, oh man. I am so sorry, dude, oh man.” Zach looked up slowly at the person he’d bumped into, “I didn’t mean to, I guess I wasn’t watch— whoa.” Zach’s eyes had finally found their way all the way up the long legs and torso of the person he’d ran into, to find that she was not only a girl, but hot.
“Whoa…” Zach had never been this close to a hot girl before! Geeze, she was so much taller than him… Why was he so short?!
If there hadn’t been a karaoke machine then Sam Lassiter probably would’ve left by now.
Sam was in a unique position when it came to parties, especially ones of this caliber. As a member of the so-called upper echelon of the social hierarchy she was invited to parties almost by default, and yet most of the time she didn’t even enjoy them all that much. She couldn’t afford to get sloppy ass drunk so the excessive drinking aspect of these things was out of the question and she got enough of a high from feeling that snap as her fist relocated a few jaw bones on a poor sod, so drugs were unnecessary. Dancing was also a bit too much to ask. While Sam was a demon in the ring, when it came to the dancefloor she was about as coordinated as a horse on rollerblades. No one would likely make fun of her for it, except probably Owen and Liv, but even though Sam could laugh at herself where it counted that didn’t mean it didn’t suck to experience.
Fortunately this yacht had a karaoke machine that was even hooked up to a big screen so people who were singing didn’t have to scrunch together to read the lyrics off the machine monitor which made for a singing area that was all encompassing. As soon as she found the machine, she flocked to it, demanding first ups which wasn’t a problem as at the time no one was even bothering. When someone like Sam Lassiter picked up the microphone and treated passersby to a damn great rendition of What’s My Age Again followed by an encore performance of You Oughta Know which encouraged others to stick around and belt out their drunken renditions of songs from yesterday to yesteryear.
Parties weren’t really Sam’s thing, but she loved karaoke which helped encourage her to stick around. There were many ways to just let loose and let out stress, but when there wasn’t a heavy bag around then belting out ballads in front of an increasingly drunk audience was a damn good substitute. And she just liked to sing regardless of her ability at it which hovered around ‘well, if she was in the shower it’d be Grammy worthy.’ With can of beer in hand, Sam was coming around to having a good time simply hanging out and silently judging when people with no sense of flow tried to do a rap song, and indulging herself in some trashy junk food that was gonna go right to her thighs. It was shaping up to be a not completely dull night.
Right as Sam was raising her beer to take a sip, her body lurched forward and the can of beer slipped from her fingers. It splashed everywhere, but to Sam the fact that her Combat Club jacket now had a giant beer stain on it was the worst. She liked that jacket, she didn't’ have to pay for it and her wearing it was like free advertising. Sam had to take it off now, leaving her with a black tank top and an annoyed expression on her lips.
”What the fuck, dude.” Sam turned her steely blues to the Beer Spiller and scoffed. She almost felt sorry for the kid, probably some nerdy frosh at his first party, but that’s no excuse. Sam wasn’t exactly hard to see if you were blind. ”Don’t just fucking stand there gawking, get me another beer, dude.” Sam’s voice was agitated, but given her height and the husky twinge to her voice she often came off angrier to the layman.
This Amazonian woman was going to murder him. He’d had a good run. At least he’d always have Magic the Gathering tournament wins to look back on! Or that time he was in the top ten in the Hearthstone ladder. He had a few good moments to remember, just not that many, which was part of the reason he’d gone to the party in the first place! Make a few memories, get together, have a few laughs. That’s it! Laughs! Laughs could solve this issue, before it got any worse. If he laughed the awkwardness, the terribleness away, then all that would be left would be the humor. Right?
Zach called upon every bit of self-preservation he had within himself, and pushed away the scared look on his face, and replaced it instead with a dopey grin. Then he started laughing. It was awkward, and forced at first, but it soon changed into something more natural — and Zach had an alright natural laugh. It wasn’t annoying, and it wasn’t graceful per se, but it did have that infectious quality to it. After a few seconds the laugh faded away, and Zach shook his head.
“My friends told me that if I went to a party, I’d regret it. And here I am! In danger! Because I wasn’t paying attention, and ran into some super tall girl who was wearing a shirt that said ‘Combat Club’ in big letters.” Zachary sighed, and looked up at Sam (dude, those growth spurts couldn’t come any faster? seriously?). “Before you murder me, can I at least put these nachos down? To lessen the mess we make.”
As far as laughter went, there was only one person doing it. When the short beer spiller began to laugh Sam took a glance around the room, gauging the reaction and searching for clarification if she was, in fact, seeing this clearly. Maybe the kid had some sort of social disorder or something, like that little blonde girl that Sam let on her back while Sam pretended to be a fantasy creature flying through the air. But that was cute and this was just...weird.
”Murder you?” The question came with a raised eyebrow and a look of genuine, utter confusion. ”Dude, you spilled a beer, what you think I’m some kinda Johnny Lawrence bully type? I’m not gonna murder you, just get me a new one.” Whatever ideas this kid had in mind she wanted no part of. Sure, she was annoyed that there was a beer stain on her jacket, but beer washed out and it was at least better than grease stains or nacho cheese or some other fluid.
”By the way, you’ve got nacho on your shirt.” Sam pointed at the murder seeker’s shirt and assuming he looked she was absolutely going to flick her finger up and flick his nose for the trouble.
Zach immediately felt a wave of relief wash over him. Honest? He was incredibly intimidated by this woman, and he was happy to hear that she wasn’t going to murder him. When she mentioned Johnny Lawrence, even briefly, Zach visibly perked up. He understood that reference! He understood it clearly. “Haven’t you watched Cobra Kai? Johnny’s the good guy!” Zach protested, before glancing down at his shirt to look at the nacho.
Instead, he found nothing but a finger that bopped his nose. He glanced up with very suddenly wide eyes, having not expected that in the slightest. He did his best to push that away, reminded of the awkwardness that he’d created with his own laugh, and gulped. Get her a beer? Yeah, he could do that. “Okay, I can get you a beer. What kind of beer? They have, like, brands, right? I’ve never had one before…” He said, glancing around the room to see where he would even get a beer. Eventually, he laid his eyes on a corner with a few different kegs in the corner, and pointed at it, glancing at the girl for validation.
“Over there, right? I’ll, uh, be right back.” He said, giving her a thumbs up, though it was unclear if it was meant to encourage him or her more. With his eyes glued to the floor, Zach shuffled across the room, suddenly aware of the eyes glued to him. Was it that bad? He’d just forced himself to laugh! He made his way to the keg and filled up a cup, after setting the permanently ruined nachos aside. He turned around and started to walk back to her, before he stopped, and turned back around. He filled up a second cup, and then went back to her with both of them. He handed her one of the red cups, and then held his up as well, “hey, cheers, right?”
Well, the short stack wasn’t a total dweeb if he could recognize the classics when he heard them, but it was still almost a comedy of errors as she watched him try to parse ‘get me a beer’. The oldest trick in the book of flicking his nose made Sam amused but that quickly gave way to a blank expression of disbelief. This guy wasn’t serious, right? She was damn near impressed that he didn’t trip over himself on the way to the beer corner. It didn’t really matter which keg he chose, it all tasted basically the same but even still she raised both eyebrows, tightened her lips and gave a nod at the selected keg; it was the kind of nod that would normally have been punctuated by turning to her friends and sharing a laugh but instead Sam was left to simply blink in awe that someone so...uncoordinated actually existed.
”You’ve never had a beer before have you?” Sam asked when her new cup was given to her with a fair bit more foam than she liked, but those were the sacrifices when someone else poured from the tap. ”Go on, drink it. But it doesn’t count unless you drink the whole thing in one go. It’s like...the rule. First cup you gotta down it.” Sam was absolutely fucking with him, but she figured he was the type that wouldn’t be able to tell. Given that he thought she was going to kill him she had good reason to think it.
Zach stared at the foamy liquid for a few seconds, before he glanced at the girl again, then back down at the cup. “What? The whole thing?” He asked, before sniffing at the liquid. He wasn’t sure about this, it kinda smelled… icky. But, she had said so, and Zach couldn’t think of any reason not to trust her! “Uh, okay.” He lifted the cup up to his lips, and prepared himself to drink it down. Luckily, Zach had practice at drinking and eating things he didn’t like. Years of being a picky eater had trained him well!
He went to tip it back into his mouth, and froze, pulling it away before a drop met his lips. He took the cup down, and glanced up at the tall woman again. “Hey, my name is Zachary, by the way. But you can call me Zach.” Then he tipped the beer back, along with his neck. To Zach’s credit, he did swallow it all down in one go. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to ignore the taste quite as well as he’d hoped he’d be able to, and after he pulled the cup away, he made a face. “Oh, that’s gross!”
Sam was only slightly disappointed when her little harmless drinking prank went off without so much as a hitch. Figuring that a first timer would try to impress and spectacularly fail by coughing or gagging while trying to chug, when the shorty got away with only minor inconvenience Sam wasn’t sure if she should give him props or try for double down. She opted to simply sip at her own cup of beer without much in the way of comment. She didn’t have to say much, her eyes giving the soft stack a once over said enough.
”Didn’t ask your name, Zachary, I asked for a beer, which I have now. I know you probably can’t see as well down there, but watch out in the future. Some people might actually kill you for spilling their beer.” Some sound advice from the junior who mostly took the incident in stride. It wasn’t worth taking action over. No use crying over spilt milk - or beer in this case. ”And don’t eat the nachos. They’ll stunt your growth.”
“I’ll, uh, try? Thanks.” Zach said, looking down at his empty cup. He made a mental note to never drink beer again, ever, in his entire life. When she said that bit about not eating nachos, he was a little disappointed, but he decided to take her advice. After all, she was tall as fuck — and he didn’t want to risk staying shorter than she was. There was, of course, a slight chance that he’d never see her again, but Zach had a feeling she wouldn’t be very hard to pick out of a crowd in the future. “Well, you have a beer now, so I guess I’ll take my leave…” Zach gave her bit of a wave, and then turned to leave, walking off into the crowd.
In his head, he was replaying the incident over and over again, and was coming to the realization that he had a crush. A crush who could sing (karaoke at least, but it counted), was very tall (growth spurts, please!?), super hot (Whoa.), and went to the 365 Combat Club. At least he had a place where he could find her now. He’d have to talk to his mother and figure out how best to get a girl to like him… High school was gonna be so complicated now! And his only two friends were worthless to ask about this particular situation.
Sam took another sip of her beer as the awkward boy made his equally awkward exit. Who the hell said ‘take my leave’? At least he didn’t have a fedora or call her ‘m’lady’ or something, so he had that going for him; plus he lucked out and only had a mild case of hazing from an upperclassman. It could’ve been a lot worse, depending on who he had run into. Literally, at that. She didn’t even watch him leave before her attention was back to more immediately pressing concerns, like when it was her next go on karaoke and how long the smell of beer lingered. Her aunt was going to flip if the beer stench tracked to other clothes in the wash.
”Fuckin freshmen." With a shake of her head and a sip of beer, Sam went back to keeping herself entertained as a member of the volleyball team was about to try their hand at rapping.
I'm interested
It’s a @Universorum @Fabricant451 post! Get excited.
Featuring: Kit “Arnie Quotes” Thomas and Shauna “They Always Come Back” Flynn
Location: The Bar (jello shots aren’t jelloy enough) —> The Hot Tub
There was nothing quite as dull as a party with a stipulation and for the first time since that unfortunate year of her life where she was a Freshman, Shauna Flynn was finding herself absolutely bored. The boredom struck her as unusual given that her present situation under any normal circumstance wouldn’t be a cause for boredom. She was, at present, on the deck of a quite fancy looking yacht with a drink in hand; tonight’s drink was a virgin strawberry daiquiri which was a poor substitute for the virgin cherry she wasn’t going to be popping tonight. If it were any other night, she wouldn’t even have been on the deck still, she’d likely have made her choice and getting a first hand experience of what it’s like to drown.
Instead, though, she was sipping an alcohol-free beverage while listening to young students talk about subjects that were about as interesting as dirt. There was a redhead who was wondering what club to join as if she couldn’t decide during the first semester of her Freshman year; even if Shauna hadn’t made a promise she likely would’ve passed on Red if only for the fact that she was pushing the limits of her clothes and their waistband. Shauna had recently had a full figured girl not a week ago, so her good deed for the year was taken care of.
There was a blonde who had never been to a party before, having missed the New Year’s party for family reasons. Cute, in that awkward,ugly duckling-eventual swan sort of way. If pickings were slim, Blonde would suffice. There was a brunette who was clearly the one of the trio that was used to getting all the attention. If Shauna couldn’t have multiple or seconds, she probably would’ve gone with Blonde just so she could work around to Brunette after the fact; the ‘hot friend’ of a group of solid fives always remembered when they were passed up.
But instead of taking one of them around for a romp, she was entertaining them. Listening to them prattle on. Wondering why she was still thinking about Madison despite them having split up upon arrival. She took a sip of her drink, nodding along to make it seem like she really was interested in the experiences of Freshmen who would go to a Homecoming dance with each other for four years and tell themselves they weren’t jealous of the girls who had dates, but her mind was anywhere but. The only time she even let out a response that wasn’t just a noncommittal sound of acknowledgment was when one of them - they were all interchangeable except for Red for obvious reasons - mentioned they had heard about a strip poker game going on below decks.
Shauna was no card player, but she would’ve preferred to have been there than here. Even if the players were a bit out of her normal preference - school year wise. That little promise she made was coming back to bite her in the ass. What fun was a party if she couldn’t have any fun at it? The worst part was that she was willing to break her own promise if the temptation was ‘too good to resist’ but anyone who saw her that night would know that the only temptation the trio around her provided was the temptation to don a habit and live a life of celibacy.
The night was still young and there was still a chance that Shauna Flynn would find some fun before the night was over.
Kit, still soaking wet in her little black dress, found her way up the stairs and looked around for her target. From what she knew about Shauna, it wouldn’t be hard to find her. Like AJ would say, “just follow the scent of young insecure girls. She’s not far behind.” And so, Kit was doing her best to do just that. She figured that if she were insecure, she’d be at the bar! That was another little tip, this one from Scott. “Look, if ya ever feel like you’re not ballsy enough to do something, just get a big ass glass of some kinda heavy boozy drink, and you’ll be chill in a minute.”
So, Kit found herself walking that way. With teeth now chattering from the combined force of the ocean breeze, and the water still on her body, Kit walked toward the bar with a sense of purpose, if nothing else, and her efforts were well rewarded! She could see Shauna surrounded by a group of other people who were chattering on about something, but the truth was? Kit didn’t care. She needed Shauna to help her out, just for a moment. So, Kit burst their bubble by shoving her way through the pack, and clearing her throat.
“I’ll be taking this Shauna now, if it’s all the same to you. Go find your own predator. Maybe one from the movie? But not the shitty Shane Black one that killed a franchise and my childhood hero, the cool Arnie one from the 80s. You know? Get to da choppah! That one. Cinematic mastapeece, through and through. Why are you guys still here? Geeze. Scram!” Kit turned her attention away from the lot of them, and instead looked at Shauna, “hey, Shauna, there are drinks with Jello in them right? Can you get me one of those?”
Just when Shauna was asking for a bit of temptation, there it was, like Shauna was Jesus Christ in the desert and Kit was the devil in a dress that was only a fraction of the wet that Shauna could likely inflict. A smile formed at her own little innuendo playing out in her mind, but in truth she was glad for the distraction; compared to the gaggle of ghostly figures calling themselves Freshmen, Kit was a runway model. While Shauna didn’t exactly approve of the rambling talk about some schlock film from decades ago - no one was perfect, and at least it was familiar territory.
Shauna waved off the girls she was entertaining and they didn’t know it yet, but with Shauna out of the picture there went their only hopes of someone taking even the remotest interest in them. At least they would have each other, up until about junior year when one of the three had a ‘growth spurt’ over summer. Now, however, Shauna’s attention was on Kit - and her attention was rapt. She still remembered the girl from cheerleading practice. The one that got away.
And yet...they always came crawling back.
”You know the bar is open, right? You don’t need me to get you a Jello shot.” Shauna didn’t have a filter for her tone of voice, as far as she was concerned as soon as she stepped foot on the boat she was in full on ‘Flirt Mode’ and that came complete with her accent shining through in a sensual tone of voice. If she narrowed her eyes when she spoke she could pass for a husky voiced phone sex operator. ”Though I know you’re only asking me to get you one so you can take the shot off my body. If you let me return the favor I’ll let you do it a bit above my navel.” God, did she miss having someone attractive to flirt with, and it hadn’t even been that long since she parted ways with Madison.
Kit stared at Shauna for a few seconds, wondering what had just been said to her. Do it off her body? Dude, what, no. “Dude, what? No. I don’t know where you’ve been, you’ve probably got a disease or something. I just want the Jello part of the Jello shot. I don’t really know what they are, or how they work, but Marshall got me wanting Jello, and I don’t know where else to get it on this ship… Look, it’s not important.” Kit paused, tapping her chin as she thought about where to go next in her conversation. So far? Probably not well. Kit had very specific things she wanted to talk to Shauna about, and she figured she should push the conversation that way, lest Shauna take offense to something she said before she even got to ask.
“I have something I need to ask you? And I’m pretty sure that my dad would say it’s crossing boundaries, but that’s okay. I’ve been doin’ that all day. How do you deal with being single and not having many friends and also having most people hate you because you suck? I think we’re about to be in a similar boat, and I’d like some advice from the captain of ‘man, my social life is a bad soap opera.’ That’s you, man. Not many people like you, but everyone talks about you. It’s gotta be sucky being under that much heat all the time, right? You wouldn’t guess it by lookin’ at you, because you’re like super chill lookin’ all the time. In fact, I’d even say that you carry yourself better because of all the gossipy stuff! I’d like to do that. Teach me your ways. I’ll be like your Padawan. I’ll be Anakin and you can be Obi-Wan. Or, I can be Obi-Wan and you can be Qui-Gon Jin. I’m flexible. And yes, before you ask, my body is indeed as flexible as my personality.” Kit winked. BOOM. Important stuff brought up, and a little bit of weak ass flirting to soften the blow.
Had Kit always spoken so erratically? A lesser person might have found the young girl exhausting but given Shauna’s night it was somewhat refreshing. There was an irreverence there that wasn’t often found in Freshmen; Shauna was used to the nervous, awkward, ‘still finding my place’ type of Freshman; the kind that are grateful for anything resembling an anchor in their little chaotic lives. It seemed, however, that someone had given Kit a bit of a talk about Shauna - a grossly incorrect one at that. Whoever it was was surely trying to protect the girl, but Shauna was nothing if not good at finding loopholes.
”You’ve never had a Jello shot before, have you? It’s not like a cup of Jello mixed in with your lunch bag, it’s mostly alcohol. It’s vodka, honey. Vodka with a cherry jello coat. And the only way to have one is off of someone’s body, it’s like tequila in that regard. Or sushi. I’d offer to do one off you but you’re a bit wet, and not in the way I like.” From zero to shameless in record time, but given that Shauna had been holding back it was like she had been given permission to gun it down the road.
”What’s so wrong with being single, sweetie? No obligations. No one to send you message after message because of their insecurities. Being single means I can take my pick of the lot at a place like this and have absolutely no hang-ups about leaving in the morning. But if you’re looking for something a bit long term, I can be persuaded to be a one-girl kind of woman, but only if you promise to talk movie to me. You can be my Slave Leia anytime.”
The more mean-spirited parts of Kit’s comment were glossed over in favor of Shauna swinging back around to the sleazy end of the spectrum. If she didn’t have her hands around a chilled virgin daiquiri she likely would’ve had at least one around Kit’s shoulder at this point. ”But, because you’re cute when you talk, I’ll play along. People don’t hate me because I suck - though I have been known to flick rather well; people don’t hate me at all. They talk about me, yes, but let the people talk. High school is eighty percent he-said-she-said gossip, and the sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be. Whatever you’ve heard about me is either untrue or exaggerated. I’d love to tell you all about it, maybe over drinks. Dinner? Breakfast the next morning?”
“You’re freakin’ relentless, ain’t ya?” Kit kad to take a moment to process everything that Shauna just said to her. Some of it was particularly disappointing — mostly the line about about jello shots being mostly alcohol. Kit had decided, earlier that night, that she didn’t like alcohol (weed was cool though), and now she couldn’t even have jello! What a bummer. “Actually, I would prefer it if I had a slave Leia, instead of the other way around? And that’s crummy, dude, I just wanted Jello… Uh, and no, it’s cool — I don’t want to tie you down. Plus, based on how you’re a huge drama student, I bet you only watch shitty indie foreign films from the Cannes festival anyway, so I’m good on talking about movies with you.” Kit said, before rubbing her arms.
“I’m cold. Let’s go get in the hot tub. There’s a hot tub, right? I think you and I are too different for this to be very helpful, but we can keep trying.” Kit sighed, kicking her feet at invisible grass. This sucked. Nothing Shauna said would change Kit’s opinion of her — Kit trusted AJ and Scott way more than she trusted Shauna, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon — but Kit had hoped that Shauna would have a magic formula for being happy while simultaneously being widely disliked. Apparently, that wasn’t the case, and the drama girl had either deluded herself into thinking she wasn’t looked down upon, or was straight lying. Neither was a good option for young Kit, but Kit had already made up her mind that she was going to get in the hot tub to bring warmth back to her body.
Kit was proving to be quite a fair bit more irreverent than most freshmen Shauna had known over the years, but therein lay the charm. It was clear that anyone who spoke with her for even a minute would be caught up in Kit’s own rhythm; it would serve her well in the future if only someone was able to inform her just how to use it to her advantage. Despite the stream of consciousness twinge to Kit’s mannerisms, Shauna had little trouble keeping up, though she was falling into the habit of picking and choosing just what it was she was hearing and responding to.
”You’d prefer a slave Leia? You like girls, then. See, we have so much in common. For you, hon, I’d let you show me the ways of the Force.” It wasn’t her best line, but she wasn’t exactly fond of old pulp movies with nothing much to say. ”You’d be surprised what I know about movies. I’d be delighted to show you my collection. We can make a night of it. A weekend, even. Though I do wonder if your attention would be on the movie at all.” Shauna had little in the way of shame but her approach tended to work - though in most cases her ‘prey’ was a lot more impressed by being noticed by a senior. She wasn’t about to let up now.
”I’m sure there is a hot tub, what kind of boat doesn’t have one of those? But you can’t get into a hot tub in wet clothes, you’ll get sick. And I don’t know about you but I didn’t bring a bathing suit. Fortunately I have it on good authority that the warm water does wonders on the skin. A nice, secluded hot tub and two girls who like girls, well, that sounds like a match made in heaven. Shall we?”
“I like boys too. You could put the right boy in the slave Leia outfit and I would be intrigued; maybe Noah? He seems soft enough to pull off being a slave... But after tonight I don’t think I like anyone, really. Just like, Tekken, and doujins. And Tekken doujins. And Godzilla.” Kit had decided that she was going to stick to her guns, and be a strong, independent, blonde Kit who needed no one. Unfortunately, that idea was a little intimidating; she had been looking forward to a high school romance and young love! And like, love triangles, and stuff.
Unfortunately for her, her initial lady of choice sucked. And the boys? Don’t even get her started on the boys, they mostly sucked! Kit would be alright alone, she had friends! She had… four. Four entire friends! That was two more than her mom and dad had when they were growing up and they turned out alright. Although, they did have each other… Sheesh, this was going to be complicated, wasn’t it?
Kit had zoned out for a while there, and she missed most of what Shauna said about movies, including her line about the Force. That was probably for the best, as Kit was about three seconds from ripping a nerd hole in Shauna’s defenses. She did, however, catch Shauna’s bit on wet clothes in a hot tub possibly making her sick. “Nah, I’ll be fine in my dress, thanks. I’m too high to get sick, way too high. Plus, I’ve gotten in hot tubs in wet clothes and lived to tell the tale before. I can’t see this going any other way… C’mon, let’s go.” Kit said, gesturing for Shauna to follow her as she started walking away.
Shauna certainly didn’t mind following after Kit, given the face that wet dresses had a tendency to cling rather snugly to the bodies that were wearing them. Shauna’s eyes did so wander, but she didn’t stare at the expense of conversation; that was a rookie mistake. Most people who stare and try to maintain a conversation devolve into neanderthalic grunts and monosyllabic answers. Shauna was far too experienced for that. ”You know, being high doesn’t make you immune to illness, but if you want to risk getting sick I’m sure I wouldn’t mind nursing you well. I have the perfect outfit for it and everything.” Even if Shauna didn’t have an outfit, she had a way of making her bullshit sound absolutely plausible. It was part of why she was so good at acting.
”But while you’re under the influence, you do know that it makes certain...sensations all the more powerful? A finger...or tongue...could feel even better than…” Shauna had to think a moment. Internally she was digging through the various bits of useless knowledge she’d acquired over the years - knowledge used to bond with and seduce girls or knowledge gained by those she had slept with. Her black book wasn’t just the physical notebook she had. ”...Better than double perfecting a shrub or pulling off a…critical win.” Shauna might not have known what she was saying, but she had been with a girl or two who had brothers that played games and osmosis helped a lot in wooing them. Kit had mentioned Tekken, so the girl was into her video games; Shauna could work with that.
”It would be a shame for you to waste the chance. Besides, think of how...romantic it would be in a hot tub.”
This time, Kit physically winced at Shauna’s flirting attempts, before glancing over her shoulder, with eyes that stared at Shauna, begging her to not talk about the things Kit enjoyed, while Kit’s words called her out quite plainly. “Shauna, look, dude. You’re making a bad move. I know more than you. I’ve been high more than you’ve been sober, and you’re older than me. By the way you can’t even crit in Tekken, it’s a fair and balanced game — that ain’t Smash Bros, bro. Also, the drugs I’m on right now just chill me out. They’re called downers. See, I took a couple Uber earlier, but that passed when I fell in the ocean. So now I’m just high on all that weed I smoked in the car, which is an indica strain — called Skittles. It’s a body relaxer. If it was a sativa strain, like, I dunno, Girl Scout Cookie, or Gorilla Glue, then it would make me have more sensitivity. Right now, my mind and my body just want to be reallll slow. Preferably with Doritos.” Kit took a left, heading toward the hot tub which was located at the highest point of the boat, not too far from the helicopter landing pad, complete with helicopter.
“Plus, I bet you don’t even know what an EWGF is. Call me when you can string together eight of them, okay, babe? Geeze.” Kit shook her head, almost in disappointment, as she stopped by the hot tub. “Okay, we’re here! So, if you don’t have a bathing suit, and you’re all dressed up, does that mean you’re gonna strip down? Cuz, I’m really not gonna. I like this dress, and someone will have to forcibly peel it from my freezing body before I take it off.”
A nerve was struck but Shauna seemed to take it in stride, given that she didn’t so much as flinch when Kit responded. More information to file away, though Shauna wasn’t normally one to go after drug addicts. Drug addicts were just a few steps away from other sorts of addictions and that wasn’t healthy for anyone, and that was to say little of how it often felt like going after addicts was taking advantage of them. That was a gross grey area that Shauna liked to stay out of. The bevy of information coming from Kit went completely without comment other than a simple shrug from Shauna, who cared about a ‘Tekken’ about as much as she cared about whatever big budget schlock was on the horizon.
”Ah, so you do want me to call you. I knew there was something between us.” Her takeaway from the conversation was woefully out of context, but Shauna never let that stond in the way of turning things around in her favor. ”You can like the dress all you like and still take it off. If you get the dress wet, it will cling to you like a vacuum sealed storage bag, and though you might think that would be a sexy look, it is incredibly uncomfortable to walk around in. Trust me.” It was a rare moment of clarity; Shauna’s voice when talking about the dress wasn’t coming from a place of flirtation or wanting to see Kit out of it; she sounded serious, casually so, but still serious. Dresses, female clothing in general, was to Shauna as Tekken was to Kit.
”I’m not saying you have to strip down to nothing, but I certainly wouldn’t stop you, but if you love that dress, let it dry. I, however, will be stripping down and you’re welcome to follow my example.” And just like that the switch was flipped back.
Kit rolled her eyes, and proceeded to ignore Shauna’s warning. Maybe she had a point, but Kit had no plans on stripping her clothes off. She didn’t have much on under the dress, and she was better off keeping it on. “Strip away, dude.” Kit said, giving Shauna a thumbs up before she herself slipped into the hot tub. “Ooooooooooooooh. Nice.” Kit said, sinking down until only her head was above the water, instantly feeling the warmth of the water bring life back into her chilled bones.
“Hot tubs own. Okay, back to business! I think you’re wrong about being single. It sounds shitty — having someone who constantly bombards you with messages sounds nice to me! And then you’d get to wake up next to the same person a lot, and learn what they like and what they don’t like, and be a team. Doesn’t that sound better than just having sex with… well, whoever?” Kit asked, not taking the time to wait for Shauna to get in the tub before she spoke. “I guess I get what you said, about high school being 80% he-said she-said bull. If this was the 2010s! Everything we do is recorded, and it gets posted everywhere, nothing we can do to avoid that. If someone says something you don’t really agree with, you can just find the video!” Kit looked up at the night sky, no longer covered by a ceiling after finding her way to the toppest point, and stared at the stars. She wondered, idly, if the kiss was going to be online soon… Probably.
Now it was Shauna’s turn to wince when Kit entered the hot tub with the dress; for a moment, Shauna’s eternal grin faded into an almost pained expression before she forced herself to get over it. Kit would understand the warning soon enough, and because Shauna was nice she wasn’t even going to rub it in. Not when she had other ideas of what to rub in Kit’s face. Shauna, true to her word, stripped down, entering the hot tub after Kit and wearing only her flirtatious smirk and a dream.
”I tried the relationship thing already and sure it can be and often is fun, but when you give yourself to one person and they take everything and leave you with nothing, you have to ask yourself if it was worth it. High school isn’t about finding the one person you want to spend the rest of your life with. High school relationships barely last until the end of a semester. People you’ve clearly talked to have this warped view of me.” Though Shauna was still very much in the mindset of flirting and taking Kit to a room for an hour or so, she was being uncharacteristically serious and seemingly introspective for the moment. There was probably something in the water.
”Most of the people you’ve been talking to are just mad because I throw a spanner in the works of their machine. There’s an entire group of people who spend their hours acting like they’re Cupid style matchmakers when really they just like to gossip about who’s sleeping with who and so on and so forth. They put themselves above it but in a heartbeat they’d stab each other in the back if the right guy came along and was willing to fuck them for one night. I don’t do anything that they wouldn’t if they could.” Shauna slowly rolled her head along her shoulders; there was something utterly relaxing about a hot tub.
”I have sex, yes. A lot of it. But somewhere along the way people started thinking I was the devil or something. Do I have a preference? Yes, so does everybody. You don’t see the tens of the school so much as looking at the fives, but because I prefer underclass girls somehow I’m the villain? I’ve never promised any of the girls I sleep with anything other than a good time, and if they expect more that’s on them, not me. None of them even know me, who the fuck are they to judge? Here’s a fun activity, Kit. Talk to some of the girls I’ve been with and see what they were like before and after I came along. It’s easy to label me as some hideous thing, but all I’ve ever done is make girls feel as beautiful and confident as they are.”
”That’s why you’re not responding well to me, Kit. It isn’t because of what your wannabe friends have told you. It’s because you’re already confident enough to take on the world. As much as I’m sure we would enjoy it, you don’t need me.”
“I don’t have wannabe friends; my brother talked to me about you. I don’t think you’re a villain, just kinda a bad person. Like Umbridge, from Harry Potter? You’re no Voldemort, but you still do some shitty stuff. I’m not gonna talk to the girls you’ve been with because I don’t care what they have to say. Thanks, I am pretty confident. I get it from my mom, I think. Or the internet... Could go either way.” Kit paused for a moment, and realized something that Shauna had said. The group of people that act like matchmakers? Those were Kit’s friends. At this point, Kit frowned. It seemed to her that Shauna had nothing nice to say about anyone who mattered to Kit, which was kinda fucky.
“Hey, I’ll have you know that the group of people you’re talking about are my friends. Ophelia’s cool, Cassie… leaves something to be desired, Brynn is the token slutty girl, and Marshall is my gay best friend. You wanna know what I think though? I think you just hook up with underclass girls because you know none of your actual peers would swing for you.” Kit said, ending her sentence with a wink. It was true, as far as she knew — Scott and AJ were close to her age and they had a sour opinion of Shauna, so surely other people did.
“You talk a big game, though. This is going pretty much how I anticipated it too. Just with way, way, wayyyy less than satisfactory answers. Really, though, thanks for the compliment! I’m glad someone thinks I radiate confidence.”
”If they’re your friends, why didn’t you go to them for whatever reason? And isn’t it just funny how someone like Brynn can be seen in a positive light while having taken more dick than a jockstrap yet somehow I’m ‘the shark’. Your ‘friends’ are full of double standards and throwing stones in their glass houses. And for the record, your friend Marshall was my friend Marshall first, honey.” Shauna didn’t seem to care to hold her tongue at this point, there was no love lost between Kit’s supposed friends and Shauna; if they ever had any desire to get to know her they’ve had plenty of opportunity to do so before now. That bridge was long since burned and it wasn’t Shauna Flynn who lit the match.
”You can keep thinking what you like about me, but I could dial a number right now and have an upperclassman spend the night with me. This is my point. High school is eighty percent gossip and when you realize that people believe what they want to believe and lie through their teeth then it becomes easy to not care about it. The only true thing you’ve heard about me is that I like younger girls. I like you, you don’t like me, but there are others. If for whatever reason my answers are unsatisfactory it’s because you’re not asking the right questions.”
“I didn’t go to them because they’re busy spending time with people that love them that they love back. I figured you’d be free, and hey: you’re free. Marshall might be your friend, but he told me not to come talk to you, sooo…” Kit shrugged her shoulders, as she moved her body around, getting comfortable in the jacuzzi, moving the jet to hit the right spot on her back, “maybe I’m not asking the right question, or I’m just asking the wrong person… Either way, that’s on me. My bad...”
“I think Brynn gets away with it because she doesn’t hit on younger girls? You’re just taking advantage of girls who are the opposite of me: scared of high school, and seeking validation from older people. Brynn just fucks people. Besides, she seems to have found a boyfriend, right? Maybe you should find someone to hang out with? It might soften things if you had more public facing friends… Look, I’m just saying. I don’t judge, but you’re getting old. Might be time to consider getting a serious relationship.” Kit stretched, and found herself satisfied with the warmth restored to her body.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Shauna. I’m gonna see if I can go find my Korean. Byeeee!” Kit stood up and hauled herself out of the hot tub, immediately blasted by cold winds, accented by the chill of the water on her body. “Fuck, I kinda forgot how temperature works… Whatever…. Have a nice day, Sharky.” Kit said, before trudging away, off to search for Min-seo.
”I was hanging out with someone. And then more people, but you scared them off. If your friends were any good at maintaining relationships, they’d have been in them by now. Brynn’s boy toy will last just long enough for the next piece of meat to catch her eye. Come find me if you ever want real advice. The only thing Brynn will teach you is how to still feel something with a wizard sleeve.” Shauna had more words to say about the freshman’s friends but Kit was out of the hot tub before Shauna could even say she was right about the dress.
Shauna was right about many things and yet no one ever seemed to give her credit for anything other than her proclivities. It was no sweat off her back. Her legacy was already in the halls of Beverly Hills High and in a few months the people that obsess over relationships they could only wish they were decent enough to be in would be little more than faint memories; and in ten years at the reunion they’d still be living vicariously through the relationships of their peers as they attended ladies night at the club well on their way to cougar town.
Now that she was alone in the hot tub, she thought of giving her popcorn princess a call, but that would likely require leaving the party and technically she was bound here as a designated driver and means of escape for another. Fortunately, the world worked in mysterious ways and as Shauna turned towards her phone, she noticed a familiar sight. Two of the three Freshmen from earlier were wandering around, no doubt looking for their red headed friend - or perhaps trying to ditch her.
”Yoo-hoo, ladies.” Shauna called out to them, grabbing their attention - and keeping it when their faces went redder than their friend’s hair as they realized what Shauna wasn’t wearing. ”I don’t believe we finished our conversation before we were rudely interrupted. Join me.”
It didn’t take much more convincing after that.
Instead, though, she was sipping an alcohol-free beverage while listening to young students talk about subjects that were about as interesting as dirt. There was a redhead who was wondering what club to join as if she couldn’t decide during the first semester of her Freshman year; even if Shauna hadn’t made a promise she likely would’ve passed on Red if only for the fact that she was pushing the limits of her clothes and their waistband. Shauna had recently had a full figured girl not a week ago, so her good deed for the year was taken care of.
There was a blonde who had never been to a party before, having missed the New Year’s party for family reasons. Cute, in that awkward,ugly duckling-eventual swan sort of way. If pickings were slim, Blonde would suffice. There was a brunette who was clearly the one of the trio that was used to getting all the attention. If Shauna couldn’t have multiple or seconds, she probably would’ve gone with Blonde just so she could work around to Brunette after the fact; the ‘hot friend’ of a group of solid fives always remembered when they were passed up.
But instead of taking one of them around for a romp, she was entertaining them. Listening to them prattle on. Wondering why she was still thinking about Madison despite them having split up upon arrival. She took a sip of her drink, nodding along to make it seem like she really was interested in the experiences of Freshmen who would go to a Homecoming dance with each other for four years and tell themselves they weren’t jealous of the girls who had dates, but her mind was anywhere but. The only time she even let out a response that wasn’t just a noncommittal sound of acknowledgment was when one of them - they were all interchangeable except for Red for obvious reasons - mentioned they had heard about a strip poker game going on below decks.
Shauna was no card player, but she would’ve preferred to have been there than here. Even if the players were a bit out of her normal preference - school year wise. That little promise she made was coming back to bite her in the ass. What fun was a party if she couldn’t have any fun at it? The worst part was that she was willing to break her own promise if the temptation was ‘too good to resist’ but anyone who saw her that night would know that the only temptation the trio around her provided was the temptation to don a habit and live a life of celibacy.
The night was still young and there was still a chance that Shauna Flynn would find some fun before the night was over.
Kit, still soaking wet in her little black dress, found her way up the stairs and looked around for her target. From what she knew about Shauna, it wouldn’t be hard to find her. Like AJ would say, “just follow the scent of young insecure girls. She’s not far behind.” And so, Kit was doing her best to do just that. She figured that if she were insecure, she’d be at the bar! That was another little tip, this one from Scott. “Look, if ya ever feel like you’re not ballsy enough to do something, just get a big ass glass of some kinda heavy boozy drink, and you’ll be chill in a minute.”
So, Kit found herself walking that way. With teeth now chattering from the combined force of the ocean breeze, and the water still on her body, Kit walked toward the bar with a sense of purpose, if nothing else, and her efforts were well rewarded! She could see Shauna surrounded by a group of other people who were chattering on about something, but the truth was? Kit didn’t care. She needed Shauna to help her out, just for a moment. So, Kit burst their bubble by shoving her way through the pack, and clearing her throat.
“I’ll be taking this Shauna now, if it’s all the same to you. Go find your own predator. Maybe one from the movie? But not the shitty Shane Black one that killed a franchise and my childhood hero, the cool Arnie one from the 80s. You know? Get to da choppah! That one. Cinematic mastapeece, through and through. Why are you guys still here? Geeze. Scram!” Kit turned her attention away from the lot of them, and instead looked at Shauna, “hey, Shauna, there are drinks with Jello in them right? Can you get me one of those?”
Just when Shauna was asking for a bit of temptation, there it was, like Shauna was Jesus Christ in the desert and Kit was the devil in a dress that was only a fraction of the wet that Shauna could likely inflict. A smile formed at her own little innuendo playing out in her mind, but in truth she was glad for the distraction; compared to the gaggle of ghostly figures calling themselves Freshmen, Kit was a runway model. While Shauna didn’t exactly approve of the rambling talk about some schlock film from decades ago - no one was perfect, and at least it was familiar territory.
Shauna waved off the girls she was entertaining and they didn’t know it yet, but with Shauna out of the picture there went their only hopes of someone taking even the remotest interest in them. At least they would have each other, up until about junior year when one of the three had a ‘growth spurt’ over summer. Now, however, Shauna’s attention was on Kit - and her attention was rapt. She still remembered the girl from cheerleading practice. The one that got away.
And yet...they always came crawling back.
”You know the bar is open, right? You don’t need me to get you a Jello shot.” Shauna didn’t have a filter for her tone of voice, as far as she was concerned as soon as she stepped foot on the boat she was in full on ‘Flirt Mode’ and that came complete with her accent shining through in a sensual tone of voice. If she narrowed her eyes when she spoke she could pass for a husky voiced phone sex operator. ”Though I know you’re only asking me to get you one so you can take the shot off my body. If you let me return the favor I’ll let you do it a bit above my navel.” God, did she miss having someone attractive to flirt with, and it hadn’t even been that long since she parted ways with Madison.
Kit stared at Shauna for a few seconds, wondering what had just been said to her. Do it off her body? Dude, what, no. “Dude, what? No. I don’t know where you’ve been, you’ve probably got a disease or something. I just want the Jello part of the Jello shot. I don’t really know what they are, or how they work, but Marshall got me wanting Jello, and I don’t know where else to get it on this ship… Look, it’s not important.” Kit paused, tapping her chin as she thought about where to go next in her conversation. So far? Probably not well. Kit had very specific things she wanted to talk to Shauna about, and she figured she should push the conversation that way, lest Shauna take offense to something she said before she even got to ask.
“I have something I need to ask you? And I’m pretty sure that my dad would say it’s crossing boundaries, but that’s okay. I’ve been doin’ that all day. How do you deal with being single and not having many friends and also having most people hate you because you suck? I think we’re about to be in a similar boat, and I’d like some advice from the captain of ‘man, my social life is a bad soap opera.’ That’s you, man. Not many people like you, but everyone talks about you. It’s gotta be sucky being under that much heat all the time, right? You wouldn’t guess it by lookin’ at you, because you’re like super chill lookin’ all the time. In fact, I’d even say that you carry yourself better because of all the gossipy stuff! I’d like to do that. Teach me your ways. I’ll be like your Padawan. I’ll be Anakin and you can be Obi-Wan. Or, I can be Obi-Wan and you can be Qui-Gon Jin. I’m flexible. And yes, before you ask, my body is indeed as flexible as my personality.” Kit winked. BOOM. Important stuff brought up, and a little bit of weak ass flirting to soften the blow.
Had Kit always spoken so erratically? A lesser person might have found the young girl exhausting but given Shauna’s night it was somewhat refreshing. There was an irreverence there that wasn’t often found in Freshmen; Shauna was used to the nervous, awkward, ‘still finding my place’ type of Freshman; the kind that are grateful for anything resembling an anchor in their little chaotic lives. It seemed, however, that someone had given Kit a bit of a talk about Shauna - a grossly incorrect one at that. Whoever it was was surely trying to protect the girl, but Shauna was nothing if not good at finding loopholes.
”You’ve never had a Jello shot before, have you? It’s not like a cup of Jello mixed in with your lunch bag, it’s mostly alcohol. It’s vodka, honey. Vodka with a cherry jello coat. And the only way to have one is off of someone’s body, it’s like tequila in that regard. Or sushi. I’d offer to do one off you but you’re a bit wet, and not in the way I like.” From zero to shameless in record time, but given that Shauna had been holding back it was like she had been given permission to gun it down the road.
”What’s so wrong with being single, sweetie? No obligations. No one to send you message after message because of their insecurities. Being single means I can take my pick of the lot at a place like this and have absolutely no hang-ups about leaving in the morning. But if you’re looking for something a bit long term, I can be persuaded to be a one-girl kind of woman, but only if you promise to talk movie to me. You can be my Slave Leia anytime.”
The more mean-spirited parts of Kit’s comment were glossed over in favor of Shauna swinging back around to the sleazy end of the spectrum. If she didn’t have her hands around a chilled virgin daiquiri she likely would’ve had at least one around Kit’s shoulder at this point. ”But, because you’re cute when you talk, I’ll play along. People don’t hate me because I suck - though I have been known to flick rather well; people don’t hate me at all. They talk about me, yes, but let the people talk. High school is eighty percent he-said-she-said gossip, and the sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be. Whatever you’ve heard about me is either untrue or exaggerated. I’d love to tell you all about it, maybe over drinks. Dinner? Breakfast the next morning?”
“You’re freakin’ relentless, ain’t ya?” Kit kad to take a moment to process everything that Shauna just said to her. Some of it was particularly disappointing — mostly the line about about jello shots being mostly alcohol. Kit had decided, earlier that night, that she didn’t like alcohol (weed was cool though), and now she couldn’t even have jello! What a bummer. “Actually, I would prefer it if I had a slave Leia, instead of the other way around? And that’s crummy, dude, I just wanted Jello… Uh, and no, it’s cool — I don’t want to tie you down. Plus, based on how you’re a huge drama student, I bet you only watch shitty indie foreign films from the Cannes festival anyway, so I’m good on talking about movies with you.” Kit said, before rubbing her arms.
“I’m cold. Let’s go get in the hot tub. There’s a hot tub, right? I think you and I are too different for this to be very helpful, but we can keep trying.” Kit sighed, kicking her feet at invisible grass. This sucked. Nothing Shauna said would change Kit’s opinion of her — Kit trusted AJ and Scott way more than she trusted Shauna, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon — but Kit had hoped that Shauna would have a magic formula for being happy while simultaneously being widely disliked. Apparently, that wasn’t the case, and the drama girl had either deluded herself into thinking she wasn’t looked down upon, or was straight lying. Neither was a good option for young Kit, but Kit had already made up her mind that she was going to get in the hot tub to bring warmth back to her body.
Kit was proving to be quite a fair bit more irreverent than most freshmen Shauna had known over the years, but therein lay the charm. It was clear that anyone who spoke with her for even a minute would be caught up in Kit’s own rhythm; it would serve her well in the future if only someone was able to inform her just how to use it to her advantage. Despite the stream of consciousness twinge to Kit’s mannerisms, Shauna had little trouble keeping up, though she was falling into the habit of picking and choosing just what it was she was hearing and responding to.
”You’d prefer a slave Leia? You like girls, then. See, we have so much in common. For you, hon, I’d let you show me the ways of the Force.” It wasn’t her best line, but she wasn’t exactly fond of old pulp movies with nothing much to say. ”You’d be surprised what I know about movies. I’d be delighted to show you my collection. We can make a night of it. A weekend, even. Though I do wonder if your attention would be on the movie at all.” Shauna had little in the way of shame but her approach tended to work - though in most cases her ‘prey’ was a lot more impressed by being noticed by a senior. She wasn’t about to let up now.
”I’m sure there is a hot tub, what kind of boat doesn’t have one of those? But you can’t get into a hot tub in wet clothes, you’ll get sick. And I don’t know about you but I didn’t bring a bathing suit. Fortunately I have it on good authority that the warm water does wonders on the skin. A nice, secluded hot tub and two girls who like girls, well, that sounds like a match made in heaven. Shall we?”
“I like boys too. You could put the right boy in the slave Leia outfit and I would be intrigued; maybe Noah? He seems soft enough to pull off being a slave... But after tonight I don’t think I like anyone, really. Just like, Tekken, and doujins. And Tekken doujins. And Godzilla.” Kit had decided that she was going to stick to her guns, and be a strong, independent, blonde Kit who needed no one. Unfortunately, that idea was a little intimidating; she had been looking forward to a high school romance and young love! And like, love triangles, and stuff.
Unfortunately for her, her initial lady of choice sucked. And the boys? Don’t even get her started on the boys, they mostly sucked! Kit would be alright alone, she had friends! She had… four. Four entire friends! That was two more than her mom and dad had when they were growing up and they turned out alright. Although, they did have each other… Sheesh, this was going to be complicated, wasn’t it?
Kit had zoned out for a while there, and she missed most of what Shauna said about movies, including her line about the Force. That was probably for the best, as Kit was about three seconds from ripping a nerd hole in Shauna’s defenses. She did, however, catch Shauna’s bit on wet clothes in a hot tub possibly making her sick. “Nah, I’ll be fine in my dress, thanks. I’m too high to get sick, way too high. Plus, I’ve gotten in hot tubs in wet clothes and lived to tell the tale before. I can’t see this going any other way… C’mon, let’s go.” Kit said, gesturing for Shauna to follow her as she started walking away.
Shauna certainly didn’t mind following after Kit, given the face that wet dresses had a tendency to cling rather snugly to the bodies that were wearing them. Shauna’s eyes did so wander, but she didn’t stare at the expense of conversation; that was a rookie mistake. Most people who stare and try to maintain a conversation devolve into neanderthalic grunts and monosyllabic answers. Shauna was far too experienced for that. ”You know, being high doesn’t make you immune to illness, but if you want to risk getting sick I’m sure I wouldn’t mind nursing you well. I have the perfect outfit for it and everything.” Even if Shauna didn’t have an outfit, she had a way of making her bullshit sound absolutely plausible. It was part of why she was so good at acting.
”But while you’re under the influence, you do know that it makes certain...sensations all the more powerful? A finger...or tongue...could feel even better than…” Shauna had to think a moment. Internally she was digging through the various bits of useless knowledge she’d acquired over the years - knowledge used to bond with and seduce girls or knowledge gained by those she had slept with. Her black book wasn’t just the physical notebook she had. ”...Better than double perfecting a shrub or pulling off a…critical win.” Shauna might not have known what she was saying, but she had been with a girl or two who had brothers that played games and osmosis helped a lot in wooing them. Kit had mentioned Tekken, so the girl was into her video games; Shauna could work with that.
”It would be a shame for you to waste the chance. Besides, think of how...romantic it would be in a hot tub.”
This time, Kit physically winced at Shauna’s flirting attempts, before glancing over her shoulder, with eyes that stared at Shauna, begging her to not talk about the things Kit enjoyed, while Kit’s words called her out quite plainly. “Shauna, look, dude. You’re making a bad move. I know more than you. I’ve been high more than you’ve been sober, and you’re older than me. By the way you can’t even crit in Tekken, it’s a fair and balanced game — that ain’t Smash Bros, bro. Also, the drugs I’m on right now just chill me out. They’re called downers. See, I took a couple Uber earlier, but that passed when I fell in the ocean. So now I’m just high on all that weed I smoked in the car, which is an indica strain — called Skittles. It’s a body relaxer. If it was a sativa strain, like, I dunno, Girl Scout Cookie, or Gorilla Glue, then it would make me have more sensitivity. Right now, my mind and my body just want to be reallll slow. Preferably with Doritos.” Kit took a left, heading toward the hot tub which was located at the highest point of the boat, not too far from the helicopter landing pad, complete with helicopter.
“Plus, I bet you don’t even know what an EWGF is. Call me when you can string together eight of them, okay, babe? Geeze.” Kit shook her head, almost in disappointment, as she stopped by the hot tub. “Okay, we’re here! So, if you don’t have a bathing suit, and you’re all dressed up, does that mean you’re gonna strip down? Cuz, I’m really not gonna. I like this dress, and someone will have to forcibly peel it from my freezing body before I take it off.”
A nerve was struck but Shauna seemed to take it in stride, given that she didn’t so much as flinch when Kit responded. More information to file away, though Shauna wasn’t normally one to go after drug addicts. Drug addicts were just a few steps away from other sorts of addictions and that wasn’t healthy for anyone, and that was to say little of how it often felt like going after addicts was taking advantage of them. That was a gross grey area that Shauna liked to stay out of. The bevy of information coming from Kit went completely without comment other than a simple shrug from Shauna, who cared about a ‘Tekken’ about as much as she cared about whatever big budget schlock was on the horizon.
”Ah, so you do want me to call you. I knew there was something between us.” Her takeaway from the conversation was woefully out of context, but Shauna never let that stond in the way of turning things around in her favor. ”You can like the dress all you like and still take it off. If you get the dress wet, it will cling to you like a vacuum sealed storage bag, and though you might think that would be a sexy look, it is incredibly uncomfortable to walk around in. Trust me.” It was a rare moment of clarity; Shauna’s voice when talking about the dress wasn’t coming from a place of flirtation or wanting to see Kit out of it; she sounded serious, casually so, but still serious. Dresses, female clothing in general, was to Shauna as Tekken was to Kit.
”I’m not saying you have to strip down to nothing, but I certainly wouldn’t stop you, but if you love that dress, let it dry. I, however, will be stripping down and you’re welcome to follow my example.” And just like that the switch was flipped back.
Kit rolled her eyes, and proceeded to ignore Shauna’s warning. Maybe she had a point, but Kit had no plans on stripping her clothes off. She didn’t have much on under the dress, and she was better off keeping it on. “Strip away, dude.” Kit said, giving Shauna a thumbs up before she herself slipped into the hot tub. “Ooooooooooooooh. Nice.” Kit said, sinking down until only her head was above the water, instantly feeling the warmth of the water bring life back into her chilled bones.
“Hot tubs own. Okay, back to business! I think you’re wrong about being single. It sounds shitty — having someone who constantly bombards you with messages sounds nice to me! And then you’d get to wake up next to the same person a lot, and learn what they like and what they don’t like, and be a team. Doesn’t that sound better than just having sex with… well, whoever?” Kit asked, not taking the time to wait for Shauna to get in the tub before she spoke. “I guess I get what you said, about high school being 80% he-said she-said bull. If this was the 2010s! Everything we do is recorded, and it gets posted everywhere, nothing we can do to avoid that. If someone says something you don’t really agree with, you can just find the video!” Kit looked up at the night sky, no longer covered by a ceiling after finding her way to the toppest point, and stared at the stars. She wondered, idly, if the kiss was going to be online soon… Probably.
Now it was Shauna’s turn to wince when Kit entered the hot tub with the dress; for a moment, Shauna’s eternal grin faded into an almost pained expression before she forced herself to get over it. Kit would understand the warning soon enough, and because Shauna was nice she wasn’t even going to rub it in. Not when she had other ideas of what to rub in Kit’s face. Shauna, true to her word, stripped down, entering the hot tub after Kit and wearing only her flirtatious smirk and a dream.
”I tried the relationship thing already and sure it can be and often is fun, but when you give yourself to one person and they take everything and leave you with nothing, you have to ask yourself if it was worth it. High school isn’t about finding the one person you want to spend the rest of your life with. High school relationships barely last until the end of a semester. People you’ve clearly talked to have this warped view of me.” Though Shauna was still very much in the mindset of flirting and taking Kit to a room for an hour or so, she was being uncharacteristically serious and seemingly introspective for the moment. There was probably something in the water.
”Most of the people you’ve been talking to are just mad because I throw a spanner in the works of their machine. There’s an entire group of people who spend their hours acting like they’re Cupid style matchmakers when really they just like to gossip about who’s sleeping with who and so on and so forth. They put themselves above it but in a heartbeat they’d stab each other in the back if the right guy came along and was willing to fuck them for one night. I don’t do anything that they wouldn’t if they could.” Shauna slowly rolled her head along her shoulders; there was something utterly relaxing about a hot tub.
”I have sex, yes. A lot of it. But somewhere along the way people started thinking I was the devil or something. Do I have a preference? Yes, so does everybody. You don’t see the tens of the school so much as looking at the fives, but because I prefer underclass girls somehow I’m the villain? I’ve never promised any of the girls I sleep with anything other than a good time, and if they expect more that’s on them, not me. None of them even know me, who the fuck are they to judge? Here’s a fun activity, Kit. Talk to some of the girls I’ve been with and see what they were like before and after I came along. It’s easy to label me as some hideous thing, but all I’ve ever done is make girls feel as beautiful and confident as they are.”
”That’s why you’re not responding well to me, Kit. It isn’t because of what your wannabe friends have told you. It’s because you’re already confident enough to take on the world. As much as I’m sure we would enjoy it, you don’t need me.”
“I don’t have wannabe friends; my brother talked to me about you. I don’t think you’re a villain, just kinda a bad person. Like Umbridge, from Harry Potter? You’re no Voldemort, but you still do some shitty stuff. I’m not gonna talk to the girls you’ve been with because I don’t care what they have to say. Thanks, I am pretty confident. I get it from my mom, I think. Or the internet... Could go either way.” Kit paused for a moment, and realized something that Shauna had said. The group of people that act like matchmakers? Those were Kit’s friends. At this point, Kit frowned. It seemed to her that Shauna had nothing nice to say about anyone who mattered to Kit, which was kinda fucky.
“Hey, I’ll have you know that the group of people you’re talking about are my friends. Ophelia’s cool, Cassie… leaves something to be desired, Brynn is the token slutty girl, and Marshall is my gay best friend. You wanna know what I think though? I think you just hook up with underclass girls because you know none of your actual peers would swing for you.” Kit said, ending her sentence with a wink. It was true, as far as she knew — Scott and AJ were close to her age and they had a sour opinion of Shauna, so surely other people did.
“You talk a big game, though. This is going pretty much how I anticipated it too. Just with way, way, wayyyy less than satisfactory answers. Really, though, thanks for the compliment! I’m glad someone thinks I radiate confidence.”
”If they’re your friends, why didn’t you go to them for whatever reason? And isn’t it just funny how someone like Brynn can be seen in a positive light while having taken more dick than a jockstrap yet somehow I’m ‘the shark’. Your ‘friends’ are full of double standards and throwing stones in their glass houses. And for the record, your friend Marshall was my friend Marshall first, honey.” Shauna didn’t seem to care to hold her tongue at this point, there was no love lost between Kit’s supposed friends and Shauna; if they ever had any desire to get to know her they’ve had plenty of opportunity to do so before now. That bridge was long since burned and it wasn’t Shauna Flynn who lit the match.
”You can keep thinking what you like about me, but I could dial a number right now and have an upperclassman spend the night with me. This is my point. High school is eighty percent gossip and when you realize that people believe what they want to believe and lie through their teeth then it becomes easy to not care about it. The only true thing you’ve heard about me is that I like younger girls. I like you, you don’t like me, but there are others. If for whatever reason my answers are unsatisfactory it’s because you’re not asking the right questions.”
“I didn’t go to them because they’re busy spending time with people that love them that they love back. I figured you’d be free, and hey: you’re free. Marshall might be your friend, but he told me not to come talk to you, sooo…” Kit shrugged her shoulders, as she moved her body around, getting comfortable in the jacuzzi, moving the jet to hit the right spot on her back, “maybe I’m not asking the right question, or I’m just asking the wrong person… Either way, that’s on me. My bad...”
“I think Brynn gets away with it because she doesn’t hit on younger girls? You’re just taking advantage of girls who are the opposite of me: scared of high school, and seeking validation from older people. Brynn just fucks people. Besides, she seems to have found a boyfriend, right? Maybe you should find someone to hang out with? It might soften things if you had more public facing friends… Look, I’m just saying. I don’t judge, but you’re getting old. Might be time to consider getting a serious relationship.” Kit stretched, and found herself satisfied with the warmth restored to her body.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Shauna. I’m gonna see if I can go find my Korean. Byeeee!” Kit stood up and hauled herself out of the hot tub, immediately blasted by cold winds, accented by the chill of the water on her body. “Fuck, I kinda forgot how temperature works… Whatever…. Have a nice day, Sharky.” Kit said, before trudging away, off to search for Min-seo.
”I was hanging out with someone. And then more people, but you scared them off. If your friends were any good at maintaining relationships, they’d have been in them by now. Brynn’s boy toy will last just long enough for the next piece of meat to catch her eye. Come find me if you ever want real advice. The only thing Brynn will teach you is how to still feel something with a wizard sleeve.” Shauna had more words to say about the freshman’s friends but Kit was out of the hot tub before Shauna could even say she was right about the dress.
Shauna was right about many things and yet no one ever seemed to give her credit for anything other than her proclivities. It was no sweat off her back. Her legacy was already in the halls of Beverly Hills High and in a few months the people that obsess over relationships they could only wish they were decent enough to be in would be little more than faint memories; and in ten years at the reunion they’d still be living vicariously through the relationships of their peers as they attended ladies night at the club well on their way to cougar town.
Now that she was alone in the hot tub, she thought of giving her popcorn princess a call, but that would likely require leaving the party and technically she was bound here as a designated driver and means of escape for another. Fortunately, the world worked in mysterious ways and as Shauna turned towards her phone, she noticed a familiar sight. Two of the three Freshmen from earlier were wandering around, no doubt looking for their red headed friend - or perhaps trying to ditch her.
”Yoo-hoo, ladies.” Shauna called out to them, grabbing their attention - and keeping it when their faces went redder than their friend’s hair as they realized what Shauna wasn’t wearing. ”I don’t believe we finished our conversation before we were rudely interrupted. Join me.”
It didn’t take much more convincing after that.
A Collaboration Between: @Bee, @Fabricant451, @melissahart & @Lovely Complex
Featuring: Olivia Lee. Roz Norcross, Laurel Evanson and Honey Dalton
Olivia, watching her bestie Josie go off like a baby giraffe taking its first steps, touched her heart with a smile on her face. Finally, she had the balls to go up and talk to a boy for once in her life. Guess her stupid little dancing technique really did work. Satisfied with herself, she went over to a nearby table to get away from the heat and stuffiness of the dance floor. Some non-sweaty air was nice. But, not having anyone else to talk to anymore wasn’t as nice.
That was, until she spotted her favorite dramamonger, Roz. She was most likely sucking in whatever she could and processing it through that brain of hers. Maybe she picked up her encounter with Roz, maybe she didn’t. Olivia didn’t care anyway. Might as well go engage her. She looked lonely… if lonely was an emotion that Roz could feel. Taking her margarita glass, she walked up to wherever Roz was located and made her presence known.
”Hey Roz! What’s going on? Olivia raised a fist at chest level for a fistbump, hoping that she would take to the gesture.
In a word, this party sucked. Sure, it was well attended by the typical wastes of space that needed alcohol to mask their shitty personality long enough to convince someone to have five minutes of regret, but it was hardly a hotbed of dramatic activity. Which, given Roz’s ulterior motives, meant the party sucked. While it was still early yet, it wasn’t all that long after the New Year’s party where she had her provocative headline and she managed to catch wind of a certain someone ‘taking advantage’ of the one student in school that people were too nice to be honest to.
The most ‘exciting’ thing that she’d caught wind of so far was a drunken douche trying to make a move on the school’s walking billboard for why abstinence is a viable choice. But no one cared about underage drunks trying to stick their cocktail sausages down a double wide bun no matter how colorful Roz made it. She had faith that somewhere someone would royally fuck up, but Roz’s patience was already at a record low given the phone call yesterday and the blatant call out today at school. Something was going on and Roz hated not being in the know.
Her hands were deep in the pockets of her vest as her ears were open for any sign of trouble, though the only thing they picked up was Olivia Lee calling out to Roz. Roz, who was in transit to a more populated area of the yacht, paused and turned towards Olivia. If nothing else, there was always the chance that other party goers had seen some juicy happenings, and Olivia was typically cool enough to divulge. Right now, Roz needed a lead. Any lead, and Olivia being one of the few people that didn’t immediately make Roz retch made Olivia a valuable potential source.
”Olivia.” Roz returned the fistbump though almost reluctantly given the disinterested expression on her face; the disinterest came well before her path crossed with Olivia. ”What’s going on? Well, you tell me, because right now it’s as dull as a history lecture. Who’s bright idea was it to have a party on a fuckin’ boat? The only people who have fun on boats are fat old people who play shuffleboard with their guts out.” Roz was even more bitter than her usual self, and her ornery ways were already dialed up. ”What’s the word, you come alone or did your date ditch your suplexing ass?”
Typical Roz. In the time that she’d known her, not once had she ever seen her crack a smile. It was the way their relationship was. Roz was quite the character, honestly. There was no pair more iconic than Roz and being some sort of stubborn. It was just the way she rolled and Olivia loved that. However, now that Olivia thought about it, there wasn’t really drama for her to divulge to Roz, beside the thing with Josie and the DJ. Might as well have told her anyway, see how she reacts.
”Me? With a date? Olivia chuckled, trying her best not to play it up and seem boisterous, ”Good one. But no. My bestie, Josie, shot off to the middle of nowhere to try to talk up the DJ.” Olivia gestured at the DJ. ”See that guy? Apparently Josie has the hots for him, but she didn’t have the huevos to go talk to him before yours truly had to go dance and embarrass herself to get her to start talking. I don’t know how it’s going right now, but knowing Josie it should be just fine.”
Sipping her margarita, she was looking for other things to talk about or potential activities to do. She and Roz were on the same boat. Both of them were alone and with not really much to do besides idle conversation, ”You haven’t seen anything even potentially juicy? Not even the girls grinding in the middle of the dance floor?” Olivia hushed her voice a bit, ”Y’know, rumor has it that one of those girls wasn’t always a girl. I don’t know which one, but that’s what’s floating around nowadays.”
As much as Roz appreciated the information she tried not to let her disappointment show; there wasn’t much there in Olivia’s gossip. Certainly nothing that could be turned into a headline. She knew this party would be a bust and already she was regretting showing up. This particular party already had two strikes against it from the start: it was on a weekday and it was only days after an even bigger party. It was like a bad sexual encounter where a guy blows and doesn’t bother with a refractory period before trying to go for round two. She could’ve been at home right now. She could’ve been enjoying a cheap beer and watching old nature documentary tapes, but here she was miserable and on a fucking boat.
”There’s nothing juicy about girls grinding against random dick, Olivia. It’s like...you know what a mandrill is? Monkey, weird colorful shit on the face? Watching these thirsty slags grind against whatever dick they can convince to pop their cork for five disappointing minutes is like watching a mandrill present itself for a mate.” Roz really would have liked to have something to sip following her little diatribe, but she settled for a minor pause as she internally thanked the fact that for the longest time her television only got an offshoot of The Discovery Channel.
”And that rumor? So what? Good for her for being herself. I ever know who it is, I’ll buy her a beer.” Roz wasn’t in the business of badmouthing people for their orientation or gender, that wasn’t the point of her blog. Sure it got carted around as being nothing more than a tabloid rag but not once had she run an article insulting people for who they fucked. It was about revealing the character of the popular crowd and the unrepentant, unforgiving so-called elite of the school. She wasn’t above calling out shitty behavior from someone that wasn’t in the top one percent of course, but the goal had always been cutting the rich fucks down to size.
”Face it, Liv, this party sucks. If I wanted to be on a boat with a bunch of spoiled white fuckers I’d go watch Titanic. At least that’s got tits in it.”
Olivia shrugged. She knew whatever information she had wasn’t going to be enough, anyway. But, something was better than nothing. There was probably more shady shit going on, but neither Roz or Olivia had the power to see it. They were both bored out of their minds. Nothing was happening and nothing was going to happen unless someone decided to be dumb.
”I’m just spitballin’. Nothing’s happening, dude, whether we like it or not.” Olivia sighed and rubbed her temples, listening to Roz’s little comment about going to watch Titanic. ”Bet you there’s gonna be someone who reenacts it.” More than likely someone had already done so. The question was who, though? Did anyone here besides Roz and Olivia even know what Titanic was?
They weren’t dealt a good hand for this party, but that was typical. Not as many people knew Roz as much as Roz knew people. ”I wish we had like a deck of cards or something. I know there’s a game room upstairs.”
When Olivia followed up the Titanic comment with one of her own, Roz scoffed in response which might well have been the closest she’d come to cracking a smile tonight. There hadn’t been much call for smiles today which was shocking given that when she woke up this morning she was in a rare good mood. Maybe she should’ve gone to the bar and got a beer but she doubted the bar here had the real shit; these people probably drank their fancy IPAs brewed in fucking Belgium or Germany or, worse, a Pabst, because their spoiled tongues couldn’t handle the taste of anything that costs less than ten dollars. So rather than being bored and annoyed with a beer, she was simply bored, annoyed, and sober.
”Yeah? Which part you think people are reenating? Because it sure as shit isn’t a rich cunt mingling with a lower class immigrant. I wouldn’t mind people reenacting the part where everyone fuckin’ drowning and freezing to death.” Roz might well have been coming off a bit harsher than normal but she spoke with the honesty befitting her current state of mind.
With her mild annoyance aside she inclined her head towards Olivia. While the idea of there being a game room was laughable - who came to a yacht to sit on their ass and play video games when they could do that at home - she had to admit she didn’t have any better ideas. ”A deck of cards, was it?” From her vest pocket, Roz pulled out a deck of cards like she was a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. ”I’ve got the cards and I’m bored enough to use them. What’s the game and what’s the prize?”
Scoffing at the morbid comment, Olivia rolled her eyes. ”Water isn’t too cold right now. I don’t see any icebergs anywhere even close to us.” It was blatantly obvious that Roz wasn’t exactly the happiest of people right now, but Olivia felt that she could change that with her own genius and willpower.
Watching Roz pull a pack of cards seemingly out of nowhere, Olivia widened her eyes in surprise. Speak of the fucking devil. Well, now came the task of formulating what to play. There were two of them, so far, and a whole deck of cards. However, Olivia only knew how to play a handful of games. She was okay at poker, but an absolute demon at speed (dependent on whether or not she was dealt a good hand, of course). ”Well… uh… there’s only two of us… so I guess speed or poker can work? And I don’t have any cash on me, so I can’t really bet cash with you. So, uh, you got any ideas, Roz?”
Ideas were all Roz ever had and most of them were terrible but she did them anyway. Two people playing cards was rarely any fun unless it was those weird card games with the dumb monsters on it that the nerds play. More power to them for their weird game but Roz was of the mind that the best card games were the ones where you won money not kept spending it just to stay competitive.
”I’ve got an idea, but I don’t know...I don’t think you can handle it.” Roz was clearly hooking a worm on the fishing hook; it might not have been necessary but if she’d learned one thing in her years at Beverly Hills High it was that insinuating cowardice was a surefire way to get someone to agree to something. If she learned two things, the second would be that few of the students even knew what insinuating meant. ”It’d be better if we had more people but hey, I ain’t picky. You don’t got cash or gossip but you do got clothes. You in?”
It was a bold idea, but it was the only one that would’ve worked. Olivia had nothing else to offer than herself. There wasn’t really much that Olivia couldn’t handle, as a matter of fact. Taking her clothes off in a game room where mostly everyone was at least some form of intoxicated was nothing to her anyway. It wasn’t like she was in spandex whenever she was in the ring. It wasn’t going to be anything out of the extraordinary. Much worse was seen here than what Olivia wore.
Olivia shrugged, ”Yeah, whatever. I’m in. It wasn’t what Olivia wanted, but it was sure better than sitting around and watching people get their freak. ”Just follow me, Roz. I think I know where it is.” Olivia took a moment to locate the door she had walked through a while ago, before setting off towards it.
Roz deposited the deck of cards back into her pocket with a rather nonplussed shrug about her. Playing strip poker was a common enough party activity but there were usually more people involved. Olivia was no slouch in the looks department, but strip poker with two people was a quick game given Roz’s habit of winning. To make it interesting she would likely have to throw a few games, which she was going to do anyway as it was the best means of hustling.
”Who knows, maybe someone seeing you strip down might make people join in. But I promise I won’t post pictures of it online. I’m shit at photography anyway.” Roz followed along after Olivia; if nothing else the game would be amusing and a needed distraction. It might even be fun if fun were something Roz considered when going to parties. ”And for the record, jewelry and shit doesn’t count as clothing, so don’t be putting up a necklace when you’re down to a bra or something.”
Was there going to be some hustling going on? Probably. Did Olivia care? Not really. All that she cared about right now was just having something to do and finally having someone to keep her company at this dumb ol’ party. Listening to Roz talk, she realized her dilemma. She was wearing a dress. There was only underwear underneath this dress, so that meant she’d get naked fairly quickly if she lost.
Turning around to face Roz while she was walking, she lifted the skirt of her dress. ”This is all I have on. I’m going to be in my undies pretty quickly if you keep winning.” Olivia then winked and turned back around. Along the way, she passed a group of students who weren’t really feeling the party either. Or they were feeling the party way too much, considering the sudden cloud of cigarette smoke. Arriving at what she presumed to be the game room, Olivia peered inside the window to see if the coast was clear. It was. Putting her hand on the doorknob, she twisted and the door had revealed a modest game room. There was a table that was perfect for what they were doing.
Taking a seat at the table, Olivia looked to Roz. ”Go ahead and deal and shuffle and whatnot. You’re most likely way better at it than I am, anyway. Olivia sat back in the chair, hoping to god that she wasn’t going to take three Ls in a row.
There was something to be said about not giving a shit about dress code; while some might have dressed a bit fancy for the occasion - the occasion being the world’s most boring boat tour, Roz never was one to stand on ceremony. Compared to Olivia’s dress, Roz was like Fort Knox. Aggressively black jeans with shoes that wouldn’t be out of place at a punk rock show, a black shirt with a vulgar phrase written on it in big font, and the Roz standard of a black vest. It would’ve been more if she had worn her leather jacket but some things were best left behind.
It did create a bit of an issue, two people was already a rather low number but now just to make the game last longer than ten minutes Roz would likely have to intentionally not cheat and throw a fair few hands. A bridge to cross when it arrived.
Entering the game room, Roz first crossed over to the far side of it, towards a minibar that, thankfully, wasn’t completely empty. A half-finished bottle of whiskey that was too good for these bougies was now Roz’s for the night. She joined Olivia at the card table, sitting opposite her as if she were a dealer in a casino. ”The name of the game is poker, the goal of the game is to keep your top on. Hold ‘em rules apply, none of that five card draw horseshit.” As Roz acted a dealer, she was shuffling the cards and dealing accordingly,two cards to the players, three up cards in the flop: a six of hearts, a seven of clubs, and the king of diamonds. ”You much of a card player, Liv? Never struck me as the type.”
Laurel wasn’t normally one to venture out to a party. Sure, she would’ve loved to always be present for the drama, liquor and sexcapades, but anytime someone decided to throw one, she was booked. Laur usually had intensive practices or away competitions on the weekends, so it was a rare occasion that she could attend any of the gatherings that her peers held. But tonight was different. Somehow, it was if her coaches were intuitive enough to know that the party of the year was being held on the evening they cancelled practice. It was a godsend, a blessing in disguise.
She arrived on the boat no later than everyone else, got herself a Gin Fizz, and proceeded to explore the yacht in her own fashion. It wasn’t every day that you got to go to a party on the boat of the richest kids in school, and Laurel was definitely going to make the most of it! There would be time for dancing later, but for now the blonde just wanted to take everything in and memorize every detail. She passed room after room as she fought her way down the crowded hallway. Some had the sign in sheets- which she thought was just an invasion of privacy- others were just empty, until she stumbled upon a door that was slightly cracked. Peering in, Laurel gazed at the modest game room and two people sitting at the table beginning to play a card game.
Now, Laurel was quite the competitive girl. If there was ever an opportunity to win anything, she was there. It didn’t matter how small or how stupid the game was, Laurel always wanted to prove she could be victorious. Overhearing that they were playing Poker, the blonde girl knew she wanted in. Entering the room with her drink half finished, she looked over at the ladies sitting at the table and smirked. “Got room for one more?”
Olivia watched Roz deal the cards like this was Las Vegas. Even though nothing of real value was at stake, her heart was still pounding. She was like that for every competition. Hopefully she’d do some damage to Roz before she lost herself. If she knew strip poker was on the table then she would’ve dressed a little more appropriately.
”Yeah, I like playing cards. I don’t know how to play all of the games, but I like playing the ones I do know how to play. How about you, Roz?” Olivia asked curiously, as she took her cards and glanced at them. The cards looked promising so far. However, she was debating on her strategy. Did she want to fold? Or did she want to call?
Before Olivia could formulate her decision, she turned around to the sound of the door opening. A girl walked in and she already knew that she wanted in. Olivia pulled a chair out and gestured to it, ”Sure. The more, the merrier!
”Uh, back to our game. I think I’ll call.”
It didn’t matter what cards Roz had, she had every intention of throwing this hand and likely the next one, though to sell the illusion of playing she had a look at her cards. With the middle she had a pair of sixes. Not exactly a hand to go all in on but one that she could probably bluff about, had she been playing for stakes other than skin. ”I don’t carry a deck of cards because I think it’s stylish. Sometimes I’ll get Lucky to play a couple rounds but for some reason any time I ask the elite types they don’t wanna go.” Roz had never once asked any of the outwardly wealthy students to play cards, but it made for an amusing little anecdote.
Roz hadn’t been expecting a third player but she wasn’t about to turn down someone that wanted to join in the festivities. Unless of course they were a member of her ever growing Shit List but as far as she knew, Laurel wasn’t on it. Gymnastics nut, if she was remembering the names correctly. Between a wrestler and a gymnast, suddenly Roz was feeling a tad bit conscious about her own physique, which wasn’t awful but she wasn’t exactly going to be doing a routine on the parallel bars any time soon.
“Olivia says you’re in, then you’re in. Grab a chair and unhook your bra, chances are it’s coming off.” Seeing as the game wasn’t trading in money, Roz quickly shuffled the not-in-play-yet deck and dealt Laurel in, two cards face down. ”You in or you out, Handspring?”
Graciously, Laurel nodded and sat down at the seat Olivia had gestured to. It took her a second to decode Roz’s words, since she hadn’t realized this was a game of strip poker, but nonetheless, that wouldn’t have scared her off even if they were trying. Besides, she had worn a cute lingerie set tonight and this was the perfect opportunity to show it off. Taking a peek at her cards, she looked up at Roz, “I’ll call.” Laur stated, leaning back casually into her chair.
Looking over and realizing she left the door wide opened, she let a laugh escape her lips. “Maybe we’ll get some more players… or an audience.” She mused, tossing her hair behind her left shoulder. Laurel wouldn’t mind in the slightest if people came in to watch; she worked hard to keep this figure and she sure as hell enjoyed when people complimented her on it.
Olivia had a jack of hearts and a king of clubs. With the way things were going right now, Olivia was confident that she was going to win this hand. She looked at her hand once again just to double check what she was up to. Nothing but good feelings for the wrestler. Taking a look around the room, it looked like they had a good cast to play with. Maybe more would join. More potential for stripping and less potential for Olivia to lose all of her clothing.
”Neither of ya’ll are big poker players, are you?” Some of the blame could be leveled on Roz for assuming that everyone worth a damn knew the rate of play, but poker was a game about betting increasing amounts of money. Money wasn’t on the table in this game. They didn’t even have chips or a buy in or a pot. ”There’s no bet to call. Calling means you match the bet. Like if Handspring here bet a shoe, calling means you bet a shoe while raising means you bet something else on top of it. Here, gimme your cards.”
Roz scooped up the cards in the middle and began to shuffle the deck again. A better idea was popping into her head, one she could still cheat at but one that would be slightly more fair even with cheating. ”I assume you both know how to add, right? Twenty-One, no need to bet with that one. You know Twenty-One, yeah? Blackjack? Works like this, two cards to start, you wanna get your cards to be as close to twenty-one without going over. Simple.” Roz was shuffling and dealing the cards out, Two face up cards to Laurel and Olviia, one face up card for herself with a face down card as well. Roz’s face up card was a ten of diamonds.
”Here’s how it works, players - that would be you two - against the dealer - that would be me right now. If dealer wins, both players drop a piece of clothing; if either player wins then the dealer has to drop some fabric. We’ll swap who deals every round just to make it fair. Olivia’ll go first, then Wannabe Exhibitionist over here will go next. Good? Good. Hit or stand, Suplex?”
Finally, a game that Olivia actually knew how to play well. Poker wasn’t her strongest suit, but she still could’ve hung. Olivia looked at her new set of cards. A ten and a two. If she got a nine it would be perfect. But, there was still a small chance that she was going to bust, and a bigger chance that she was going to fall short. She rubbed her temples, thinking pretty hard for just a second.
”Hit me.” She said, tapping the table like she’d seen in movies. She hoped to all the higher powers that she was going to get a nine.
Roz quickly looked at her one facedown card, keeping it to herself even while going so far as not to react to it. The downfall of amateur players was a terrible poker face, which Roz couldn’t claim to have. At least when it came to actually playing poker. “Alright, it’s your funeral, Suplex.” Roz dealt the card with a swift hand. “What’ll it be, then, hit or stand?”
It was another two, which put Olivia in a very sticky situation. She didn’t want to lose and be the first person to take off a clothing item. She looked very hard at Roz, then back down at her cards. 14. If she got anything above a seven she would bust. The wrestler had much more to lose than everyone else here, so she was at an impasse. Finally coming to a decision, she tapped her hand on the table, ”Hit.”
The next card was dealt… and it was an eight, which immediately busted Olivia. She put her face in her hands as she realized what had just happened. ”Oh, fuck! Well… there goes my shoes…”
As much as Roz appreciated the enthusiasm and far be it from her to correct someone that was prepared to lose some clothing - as innocent as a shoe was - she broke her poker face to scoff at Olivia while gathering the busted cards to the discard pile for the next game’s shuffle. ”As much as I’m sure anyone with a foot fetish around here would like to see it, you’re clear for now. Remember: if dealer wins, you both lose, but if either of you win then the dealer loses. So if Handspring over here beats me, you’re safe, otherwise it’s skin time. But if you wanna take your shoe off, I ain’t gonna stop ya. It’s a bit borin’ but I can respect the hustle in making us work for it.” Roz took a swig from her snatched bottle of whiskey before turning to the third member of their little skintimate party. ”Your move, Aly Raisman. Hit or stand.”
Laurel didn’t bat an eyelash at the change of game- it truly didn’t matter what they were playing. The only thing that mattered was either one of two things: getting to show her lingerie set off or seeing these other two ladies strip. In her books, it was a win-win! With a smirk, she looked down at her two cards in anticipation of winning. A four and a five. Believing she could do better, and there being a pretty good chance of getting close to twenty-one without going over, Laur looked back up at Roz (who was admittedly doing quite well with the gymnastics puns). “I’ll hit, please.” She replied, sickeningly sweet.
”Lady wants a hit, lady gets a hit.” Roz was clearly enjoying dealing the cards even if she couldn’t quite yet stack the deck in her favor. Cheating on the first hand was certainly in the textbook but for this first hand with one of her opponents already out Roz figured it was highly likely that she could win without resorting to her standard mode of play. Roz dealt a card to Laurel with a snap of her fingers. ”No pressure or anything, but if you lose here poor Liv over there is one step closer to giving us all a glimpse that even spandex couldn’t hide.”
Olivia was posting her head on her arms, elbows on the mahogany trim of the poker table as she gave Laurel a death stare. According to Roz’s house rules, whether or not they took their clothes off was all up to Laurel. No pressure. ”Laurel, for the love of god, please get an ace.” Even though her face was all smooshed up, she was still trying her best to put all that pressure on Laurel.
The blonde looked over to Olivia, who was not helping the situation, and glanced back to the card. Instead of looking at what it was when she flipped it over, she looked up at Roz, raising a single eyebrow in the process. Once a second had passed, she let her eyes drift down to see her fate. It was a fucking six. Dammit. With a huff she looked back up at the dealer with a shrug. “It’s not over yet. Whatcha got sweetie?” Laurel asked, in reference to the cards.
”I take it you’re standing, then? Fair enough, you’d have to be insane to hit on fifteen.” Roz taunted with a smirk, knowing full well the outcome of this round of cards. Using her one up card of ten, she tucked it under the face down card and flipped it up, turning over her card to reveal a three. Roz looked at Laurel then at Olivia then gave a little shrug of her shoulders as she flicked her palm over the deck of cards. Quickly, she slid a card not from the deck in play into her hands and played it face up. ”Well ain’t that about a bitch. Looks like it’s your lucky day, Liv.” Roz’s card was another ten. ”Dealer busts.”
Roz, who might well have been one of the first people to cheat her way into a loss, gave another shrug before swigging at her whiskey. ”Fuck it.” Though she left her vest on - of course she would being as she loved her vests - Roz slipped her arms through the holes of her shirt and, with some awkward shuttering and shaking, took off the undershirt and left casually tossed it aside, leaving Roz wearing pants and a rather plain, cheap looking bra that was hardly covered fully by her vest. ”Who wants to deal next?”
“‘Cuse me.” A distant, mellifluous voice could not be heard over the booming of the music. Squeezing her way through the crowd, Honey Dalton wanted to see what all the commotion was about. People were seeping out of the game room to get a peek on what was on the inside. Before reaching the front to see the scene for herself, she asked a stranger, “Hiiiiiiiiii.” The virginal neon fairy was still very drunk. “What’s happen?” For the first time in awhile, as far as the night goes, she was standing in one place and could feel how unsturdy she was. Balance was failing her. She waited for the guy’s response, patiently-not-so-patiently, all the while contemplating her drunk stupor.
“Hot girls stripping. You should join them, you’re pretty hot.”
“That’s just silly!” Not waiting for his response, she continued to push through the crowd until she finally was at the front of the audience. Her heart stopped when she saw who was playing. If her cheeks weren’t already heated with color from the alcohol, they were sure burning fiery red now. What she didn’t realize was the moment she came to the front, she added glow to the general vicinity. Shiloh’s clothes was bright as hell.
”Oh shit! We won! Olivia jumped out of her seat and put her hands on her head before attempting a high ten with Laurel. Olivia’s shoes were safe. Mary and Joseph, she had done it! Now she wasn’t going to be doubting her fellow strip blackjack player anymore. Once Roz chucked her shirt away, she put her hands back on the trim.
”I’ll deal next, then it’s Laurel.” Olivia stood up and walked over to wherever the dealer was supposed to stand and traded spots with Roz. Taking the deck of cards, she took the cards back and started cutting them in her feeble attempt to shuffle. After a good seven cuts, Olivia felt it was good enough to play. She dealt everyone two cards, before getting herself set up. Looking over her current opponents, she smirked. ”So… Laurel… whatcha feelin’?”
Laurel perused her cards, and faked a pensive moment in thought. In actuality, she had pretty good cards, a seven and a queen, and wasn’t planning on taking anything else on. Looking up at Olivia, she smirked. “I’m standing.”
Nodding, she looked over to the half-naked Roz. ”Okay. How about you, Roz? You ready to keep your pants on or take them off?” Olivia smiled, knowing that she might have that comment bite her in sometime later down the line.
“Take them off! I mean… let’s go, Roz!” Honey had no filter. What was this? All she knew was she wanted to be Roz’s number one cheerleader. SHE WAS GETTING NAKED. It was like her fantasies were coming to life, right before her eyes! The only issue was, she couldn’t see straight. That Zombie was really putting her through a runner.
Before Roz decided what to do with her cards, which were a seven and a seven, she turned her gaze towards the entrance area of the gaming room; a little bird had been chirping and Roz distinctly heard her name being spoken - distinctly at that. But not much else beyond that, though the sight did come damn near close to making even Roz crack a grin. ”Lookit that, we’ve got an audience. Good thing your shoes stayed on, Liv, otherwise they’d all see your cold feet. And I’ll stay. Fourteen is just eight away from people seein’ my ass and why risk that.”
But I want to see your ass… Honey pouted to herself.
Olivia nodded at Roz’s response and looked down at her own card. She had a measly two. Putting her hand on the facedown card, it was revealed to be only a three. So, she had five. Another hit, and that put her to thirteen. She couldn’t stay as she was exactly two short of beating Roz. Taking the next card, it revealed itself to be a nine, which automatically busted Olivia.
Her face was as white as snow when she realized that she busted. ”Fuck… there goes my shoes…” She said, reaching down to take her heels and chuck them to the side. ”You’re up, Laurel.”
How lame of the Asian girl. Taking off her shoes, while Roz boldly took off her top under her vest. Roz was amazing. Sure, losing meant there would be more… to see… BUT, winning meant she was kicking ass. Cheerleaders got to support no matter what. Smitten. Honey was smitten, as she focused in her heart’s desire.
Laurel scooped up the deck of cards and began to shuffle the deck, breaking it a least five times in order to ensure the cards weren’t going to give anyone an inherent advantage. Dealing two cards to each player and then to herself, she looked up at Roz. “What’s it going to be next, Roz? You going to follow suit and take off your shoes or are you going to spice things up a bit?” Laur asked playfully, looking around at the people who had trickled in to watch them. The more the merrier!
Roz shook her head a moment as she observed Laurel’s shuffle; it was at least better than Olivia’s but it still hurt to see her cards being handled by what could only be considered amateurs. That train of thought remained fully in the station as she looked at the cards dealt to her. A seven and an eight. Decent, sure, but now she was faced with a conundrum. If she lost and Olivia lost, that meant Laurel would be the only one at the moment who hadn’t lost. Hitting on fifteen was usually a bad play, and given that she was dealt cards face up there was no good way for Roz to cheat here.
”I’d take my shoes off now and still take something off if I lost. Shoes are one step above watches and bracelets on the scale of ‘doesn’t really count’.” As if to prove a point to no one in particular, Roz used her right foot to hold the heel of her left shoe which she promptly slipped out of - and then repeated the process for her right shoe. ”I’ll stick with what I’ve got. Someone around here’s gotta be fearless.”
Watching Roz remove her shoes, she shrugged. ”Well… y’know… I got this dress and it’s one piece so if I lose again I’m gonna be just like Roz without pants. I should not have worn this today.” Olivia looked at her cards and found herself in a favorable position. She had an ace and a nine, which put her at twenty. Taking her hand and waving it horizontally, she decided to stay. ”I’m gonna stay.” There was no way Laurel was going to win now. They both had way too good cards to lose.
Unbeknownst to herself, Honey was creeping closer to the table so she could hear the conversation better. Part of her was happy she looked nothing like herself, because no one would recognize her as the DJ’s little sister. Tonight, she looked like a pretty rave girl. Like her father had heavily suggested, the bubbly girl was going to ‘let loose’ and right now she translated that as gawking at Roz’s body.
The blonde sighed, looking over the cards laid out on the table. Glancing down at her two cards, the one that was face up was a nine, so not bad, but the one facing down was a two. Not good. Laurel hit a card down, which was a three. Shit. Looks like she was going to be taking something off at this rate. With nothing more to lose at this point, she hit another card. A ten.
Laur sighed. “Well ladies, looks like you’re about to see some lace.” Standing up with absolutely no hesitation, she crossed her arms and gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one fell swoop and revealing her grey lace bra underneath. She twirled the shirt above her head once for dramatic effect and sat back down. She may as well put on a show, right? With a laugh, she pushed the cards over to Roz. “All you, Roz.”
”Well if there’s one thing we’ve learned tonight, it’s that Olivia’s the timid one.” Roz took her place again as the dealer and shuffled the deck of cards like she was paid to do it. She didn’t have to cut the deck but she did add a few flourishes, like fluttering the cards between her palms and dealing them to Laurel and Olivia with a quick flicking of her thumb. Roz’s face-up card was a queen and when she looked at her face down card it came with a whistle. ”Well, it’s a good thing one of you is comfortable showing something because you both just got dealt a bad hand.” Roz flipped over her face down card; the ace of hearts. ”Blackjack. Dealer wins. Sorry, Liv, but looks like you’ll be joining us in the bra brigade.”
“So cool…” Honey whispered to herself, before immediately changing her volume, “ROZ IS KICKEN’ YOUR GUYS’ ASSES!” Emergawd. She said ass. Would daddy be happy or disappointed? Well, in this moment, she didn’t care. Roz was literally the coolest person that ever existed, ever.
Jesus. Olivia had gone from being the most dressed person to the least dressed person in this room. She didn’t even have a chance to look at her cards because Roz had already won her hand. She made a long sigh and made a face of contempt at Roz and her perfect hand. Well, she figured that comment she made earlier had come back to bite her in the ass. Standing up, she reached up to her shoulder strap and pulled it off really slowly. She might as well roll with the punches and make a show out of it.
Reaching another hand to her shoulder, she pulled the other strap off and started to gyrate her body to get the chest part off of her. The fluidity of her movement was a huge indicator that she had done this before, but truthfully she hadn’t. It was just what years of wrestling and other martial arts did to someone, and Olivia was repurposing her skills for this very moment. It felt like a strip-tease, which was nice to anyone who happened to be watching, but Olivia was honestly just taking the piss out of people. Feeling her dress slide down further her body, it soon exposed a jet black lace bra, which was pretty much cleavage city.
After that, she let the dress slide off her hips to show off her accompanying black lace panties before she stepped out of the now empty dress and put it aside. ”Happy?” Olivia gestured to her body. The true extent of Olivia’s fitness was revealed with how rock hard her abs and how toned her legs and arms were. She shooed Roz away and got everyone all set up again, dealing and all that fun stuff. It was cold.
Laurel laughed, realizing that Liv was a tough act to follow. Simply slipping off her skirt to reveal grey lace underwear, she turned to Roz. “Alright, Roz, you definitely are too clothed for this.” She mused.
Roz could only shrug at Laurel’s comment, though not before pointing towards the audience - specifically the one that was making her voice heard above the whispers and people prodding each other in the elbow to remark about the underwear show going on. ”Seems some might disagree with you there, Laurel. But it’s not my problem ya’ll are shit at cards.” Before switching dealers, Roz made sure to shuffle the cards properly so her eyes wouldn’t have to bear witness to a murder yet again. ”Good luck, Liv. You’re dealing and you’re running out of options.”
Olivia leaned down and gave Roz a death stare as she looked down at her cards. Right now Roz was the one with the biggest target on her back. Suddenly, this wasn’t too much fun anymore considering how close Olivia was to revealing her sexy bits. ”So, Roz, hit or stay? Better pick the wrong one.”
Roz snickered behind her now depleted bottle of whiskey. Some people just weren’t cut out for strip gambling, though even Roz couldn’t have predicted there being a little audience and cheering section. They were all wannabe adults here, and she was sure everyone watching had seen worse on the internet. Roz looked at her cards. Ten and two, definitely on the low end. ”What’s wrong, Liv? You seem upset. We’re all girls here, ain’t we? It’s just underwear. You and Handspring here are flexing your fancy lacy unmentionables - kinda shit people only wear if they want it to be taken off. I did ya’ll a favor. And you can do me one back by hittin’ me.”
Roz’s third card was a king and her tongue clicked the roof of her mouth as she busted over by one. ”Well, shit.”
“ROZ.” Laurel huffed, knowing that she was that much closer to taking something else off. She had only planned this far, since she didn’t think she would have to strip completely naked. What else was she supposed to strip? With a deep sigh she looked at Olivia, knowing very well she had a six and a four. All she needed was a face card to save the round, and she was willing to take that risk. “Hit me, Liv.”
Olivia nodded and dealt Laurel another card, which turned out to be a measly five. She tsked and looked at the nearly naked Laurel and smirked. If she fucked up, something else was going to be coming off. Hopefully it’d be that bra, but it’d probably be the shoes instead. ”What are you feeling, Laur?” She smiled, holding the deck in her hand, ”No pressure.”
Laurel pensively stared at the card just dealt. There was still a chance, but it was slim. Very slim. But, the thin ice she was on was already cracking, so why not take a risk and see if it pays off. “I’m feeling like seeing another card, I’ve got nothing more to lose.”
Olivia dealt a card and Laurel had busted. The math didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it definitely exceeded twenty one and that Laurel was going to have to take off something else. Olivia grinned and looked at Laurel. She knew how she felt, but Olivia couldn’t help but to laugh. ”Oh shit, Laurel!”
Oh shit was right.
With a sigh, Laurel had already made up her mind on what she was going to take off. It was sure to be a crowd pleaser. With some flair, she stood up, reaching down towards her underwear, but at the last moment, passed them and took off her shoes, the one thing she had kept on the entire game. Ha! She certainly fooled them. With a smirk, she looked at Liv. “Just following your lead, darling.”
Olivia squinted. ”Touche…” Olivia then switched to a smile and chuckled. Damn, no nudity right now. The wrestler was looking forward to seeing something but it wasn’t going to happen just yet.
Roz looked around the table, and at the audience that had built up around them, gears turning in her head that might well have been partially activated by the whiskey she had drank during the duration of the game. Her eyes watched as Laurel teased the audience, and masterfully at that, which led Roz to making the ultimate decision. It wasn’t really strip gambling if the only strip stopped at a PG-13 rating. ”Bad at cards and modest. Strange combo, you two.” Roz decided to have her fun; it was her idea to play the game so it was only fitting that she give the people what they wanted. Was that not the first rule of journalism?
Roz slid her vest off and for a moment she could hear the disappointment in the air, but it lasted just long enough for Roz to reach behind and undo the hooks on back of her unflattering peach-colored bra. It joined her shirt on the floor. Roz, now sans a top, put her vest back on, which offered little in the way of coverage but at least kept her partially clothed. In the loosest sense of the word. ”You’re welcome.” Her words were loud enough for the room to hear.
Honey’s face was radiating heat like a hot pan. Jesus. Her father did not prepare her for something like this. Literally a live action wet dream. She could most definitely feel her heartbeat. Nothing about its beat was steady and the pounding felt like it would rip out of her chest. Boom, boom, pow! There was no rescue to how flustered, how squirmy, how weird she was feeling. Along with flustered, most definitely horny. Virgins were the horniest of girls, after all. She couldn’t take it anymore.
With confidence only given to her because she was intoxicated to the point of no return, Honey made herself known out of the crowd, going straight to the table, complimenting her crush, “Herro, Rozzie!” Herro? “I love, love, loveeeee your vest.” And everything that was underneath it. Was she even thinking before she spoke? “Can we… hang?” REALLY, HONEY? That’s the best you got?! Hopefully she’d say yes…
Roz raised an eyebrow as the loudest little cheerleader stepped forward; though the girl was blushing more than a hooker in church, Roz attributed that to the clearly drunken state the girl was in rather than the fact that Roz was in a state of undress. If nothing else, though, the drunken hot mess had an eye for style. ”Yeah, alright. You look like you could do with some air anyway.” Roz had nothing better to do anyway, might as well make sure a drunk student didn’t do anything too embarrassing.
Snatch! The girls weren’t aware that under the table a little redheaded freshman had slipped her way in and started stealing their clothes, not really having time to pick and choose. It was easy to crawl past the crowd and under the table. Everyone was distracted by the ballsy girls taking their clothes off, especially that glowy girl. Everyone was practically nakey by now. If Truly Bliss wanted to successfully hide from her beloved, she had to disguise herself. Become someone totally unrecognizable!
Somewhere along her travels, she obtained a bag and was slipping the easier stuff in it with hyperactive speed. The dress, the shirt, the pants, the bra — all in the bag. The shoes (so many shoes), she would have to stuff in it at the top or try her best carrying them all. When there was a will, there was a way. Trust that True would find a way. She always does. For now: Snatch! Did she care that she was stealing? Not really. They obviously wanted to be naked. Perhaps, they could consider this charity work! She needed their clothes and they needed to be in the nude. When she got everything she needed, she continued on her escapade (hide and go seek with her love). Next stop: Somewhere to change! Run awayyyyyy. Nothing to see here.
True, you thief.
Rotating once again, Olivia had momentarily forgotten where her dress was, so she looked down around the poker table. Nothing. Not even her shoes were there. Maybe she chucked it away? Olivia then took a quick gander around the room to not only see the absence of her clothes, but also Laurel’s and now Roz’s as well.
”Uhh… guys? Where’s our clothes?”
Yeah alright
RYLEIGH RAINE
The bell was ringing
Our souls were singing
Do you remember every cloudy day
Three Specific Mentions - @Silent Observer@Barrett
Every week Ryleigh told herself and her roommate, Gemma, that she was going to quit her job. At first it seemed like the right thing to do, though it had its perks - namely the brief hours and the opportunity to banter with some of the most dry newscasters this side of the Atlantic, but she couldn't escape the soul-crushing feeling that she was wasting her talents on a job she only got because the producer really wanted to sleep with her. And judging by the way he leered every time her segment came up she was certain he still thought he had a chance. Ryleigh learned fairly early on not to wear the little ear piece that the producers can feed lines into after the first month when her ear piece was overtaken by compliments on her dress.
Of course Ryleigh knew that quitting her job was kind of an impossibility, she didn't exactly have any other career prospects given her lack of a college degree and the market was already cornered on flower shops and herbal establishments. Given that she was still expected to pony up her half of the ren, her job was a necessary evil. She wondered what her family would think knowing that for all the knowledge swimming around in Ryleigh's brain - knowledge about spells and witchcraft and other bits that would make a normal civilian believe themselves to be in a dream - that she wound up using it in order to read weather for a few minutes on the morning news every weekday. Her coven would surely be so proud. As if they kept tabs on her for any reason other than making sure the Raine name didn't drag itself through the mud any more than it already was.
The absolute worst part was waking up. Technically news never slept but the morning news prided itself on being there for people that liked to turn the television on while they ate cold cereal and toast and needed a talking point for the water cooler when the hot show or sports were in the off season. Six in the morning every morning, which meant Raine had to be in the studio no later than five thirty. Fortunately Ryleigh had mastered the art of not making much noise when getting ready, Gemma didn't deserve to miss out on sleep because of Ryleigh's unique choices in life. Depending on the amount of coverage and breaking news, Ryleigh's segment came on anywhere between six thirty and seven and once more for the late arrivals at quarter to eight. Ten minutes, tops, with most of her work day spent in a chair while an underpaid intern put some bounce in her hair.
It could be worse, Ryleigh justified, she could always be on the evening news as well.
This morning saw Ryleigh take the early train to the news building, say her greeting to the poor desk clerk who existed just to tell people which elevator bank to go to, and arrive in the green room for the local news. It wasn't exactly the BBC - they probably had a bit more professional decorum comparatively - but it was still the news. Ryleigh didn't fully hate her job, of course, just the unfortunate personal inconveniences that every young professional surely felt; if there was a poll Ryleigh would be certain that ninety percent of people hated their jobs due to ridiculous reasons like 'not living up to their potential' or whatever. Though giving a weather forecast was not how a little Ryleigh envisioned her adult life, that she could get away with delivering the forecast in whatever manner she fancied (assuming it was fit for broadcast, of course) had kept her complacent for the most part.
"Can you believe we're still on about this Bloodfang nonsense?" From the makeup chair next to Ryleigh came the sharp voice of Constance Chapin, one of the two anchors (three if one included Heath Darcy, who did sports) and who Ryleigh always said looked a bit like Emily Blunt which was meant as a compliment but wasn't taken as such. "I've heard of slow news days but this is ridiculous."
Normally, Ryleigh wasn't the type to socialize with her co-workers when the camera wasn't rolling, but it was clear that Constance was trying to get some reinforcement. "Yeah, I can't imagine why people would wanna know about a guy that took out three girls. Sorry. Allegedly. Lawyers, right?" Ryleigh spoke up, doing little to hide her sarcasm.
Constance either hadn't expected the response or didn't appreciate it. The anchorwoman turned her gaze to the weather girl and the tightly pursed lips might as well have been a wealthy socialite looking down the nose at a pauper for all the vitriol contained therein. "It's nonsense. People actually believe this talk of 'Other'? That someone named Nick Bloodfang exists? Gullible idiots, the lot of them. The people that believe this 'Other' bunk probably believe anyone who wears a pointed hat is a witch."
"Witches don't wear those hats anymore, they went out of style in like the 1800s." Ryleigh replied in full-on deadpan and it wasn't until Constance glared at her that Ryleigh cleared her throat with a little bit of laughter. Her little off-handed remark was not at all appreciated by Constance.
"Viral marketing, that's all it is."
Ryleigh kept her comments to herself and let Constance rant and rave in peace. Ryleigh did suddenly have an idea for the day's weather report, though, and she had to excuse herself and take a trip down to wardrobe.
By the time the clock struck six, the Edgetoun News played its little ditty and the headlines were read off and reported on by the anchors. By quarter to seven Constance threw over to the weather. The weather report had its own name that Ryleigh requested by making a little request to the producer with winking eyes and a suggestive voice. Other news channels just had the weather. Edgetoun had 'Raine or Shine with Ryleigh Raine'.
"Thanks, Connie." Ryleigh knew that every time she called Constance 'Connie' that the anchor hated it. Constance was likely to hate Ryleigh's outfit this morning since it looked like a strong case of 'Halloween come early'. Ryleigh had a black pointed witch's hat, complete with wide bill, and to complete the ensemble she had a black and red corset and frilly skirt and heeled boots, something that wouldn't look out of place in a costume store for 'Sexy Witch', albeit a tame version. She even had a little wand in her hand which doubled as a pointer. "Ladies and gentlemen it's February and you know what that means. That's right, it means it's almost March. Fortunately today is going to be a bit brisk but not like the biting chill of winter. You can get away with a light jacket though I would leave the shorts at home."
Ryleigh gestured with her wand to the colored representation of clouds rolling in. "Of course it'll get cooler in the evening so for those of you who will be making the most of your Friday night, be sure to dress appropriately. It's hard to shake your stuff if your stuff is frigid. Do you ever shake your stuff, Connie, or are you too frigid?"
The camera cut to Constance who was struggling to keep her composure. Before Constance responded the focus was back on Ryleigh who now stood to the side and let the weekend forecast display show up for the viewers at home. "As you can see we're in for a bit of a cool weekend but spring is ever on the horizon. Which of course means now's the perfect time to invest in an umbrella. And as some of you are aware, this Sunday marks the full moon. I am required to inform you that in light of recent stories to take certain precautions. That, ladies and gentlemen, is your weekend forecast. Raine or Shine, I'm always on time. Now here's Mister Darcy to tell you how ardently he admires and loves sports."
When the cameras were off Ryleigh, she stepped away and went to the back to sit down and admire her handiwork. The job did have its perks. She might not have been quitting anytime soon, but she was sure that a certain anchor might be clamoring for her to be fired. It was the little things that made all the difference.
Ryleigh was out of the studio a little before nine and that was the best part of the gig. Early hours made for a fairly open schedule. The weather was kind of the most useless part of any given news broadcast given how easy it was to just check on a phone, but Ryleigh made the best of it. She had to give the people a reason to care and she settled on fun costumes and banter. Clearly it worked given she still had a job. With her job done and her attire back to normal, Ryleigh stopped into a coffee shop on her way back. Coffee wasn't normally her thing but her eye caught sight of a few pastries and often her stomach dictated the route.
The coffee shop was definitely some place she'd expect to find a congregation of people discussing acoustic rock music for hours which made it definitively 'not her scene' but coffee was coffee and pastries were pastries regardless of clientele. She did have to roll her eyes as they looked over the menu. What the hell was a 'cappurr-ccino'? Ryleigh made a mental note to maybe not come back here again if that was the kind of thing this place was going for. Why couldn't places just have a regular menu? She sounded like an old person now. It was quite unbecoming.
Ryleigh had her hands in the pockets of her jeans as she stood behind what she assumed was the only open register. An older man was talking somewhat intently with the young employee. It seemed like a private conversation but it wasn't as if Ryleigh could hear anything other than her own thoughts wandering and wondering who signed off on cat pun coffee menus. "You guys got like a May-December thing going on?" She spoke to the two of them with little regard for a filter. "Maybe you two can do your makeout thing later? I kinda wanna get a 'meow-chiato'."
"Excuse me.." A voice from behind Ryleigh drew her attention away from the conversation at the register and came face to face with someone that Ryleigh didn't know. They seemed to be a bit on the meek side given the small voice; if Ryleigh had to guess this person had simply rolled out of bed and went out. It seemed otherwise impossible for hair to be so...frizzy or a sweater to be so ghastly out of style by at least twenty years. Was that mauve? Did they make ANYTHING in mauve anymore?
"Line starts behind me." Ryleigh figured that would be the end of the interaction but she hadn't noticed that the mauve-clad person had a cup of coffee already in hand.
"Oh, no, not that. I...um...sorry if this is...you know...weird but...are you Ryleigh Raine? From the news?"
This was a first. Not technically, she'd been recognized before, but this was a rarity. Rare enough to where it felt like the first time. Though Ryleigh was on television five days a week it wasn't like she was a household name like an actual actress or something which was great for maintaining anonymity. "Never heard of her."
"You're funny in person too. I don't...I don't want a picture or anything I just wanted to say hi. I watch the weather every day." The person was either a fan or someone that just watched the news and by extension the weather. It was probably the closest they'd come to being star struck if Ryleigh had to hazard a guess. "Well...have a good day!"
And before Ryleigh could think of something witty to say, they were out the door and on their way. Not the strangest interaction she'd had with a fan but still it made Ryleigh shake her head and turn back to the cross-generational lover's meeting going on in front of her. Just as she was about to make another comment, the other worker behind the counter stood at the second register and waved Ryleigh over. "Does this place know that cats are lactose intolerant or is it just a cute little joke that the milk drinks are cat puns?" Ryleigh pulled out a crumpled bill and glanced again at the menu. "Now is the meow-chiato different from the es-purr-esso and don't you think that's a bit lazy when you already have cappurr-cino? Could I suggest 'kitty-au-lait'?" Ryleigh was smiling at her remarks which made for one person smiling at them. "Yeah, I'll get the macchiato and a cream cheese danish."
It seemed increasingly evident that Ryleigh wouldn't be coming back here anytime soon, if she wasn't barred from entry for her cheek anyway.
Of course Ryleigh knew that quitting her job was kind of an impossibility, she didn't exactly have any other career prospects given her lack of a college degree and the market was already cornered on flower shops and herbal establishments. Given that she was still expected to pony up her half of the ren, her job was a necessary evil. She wondered what her family would think knowing that for all the knowledge swimming around in Ryleigh's brain - knowledge about spells and witchcraft and other bits that would make a normal civilian believe themselves to be in a dream - that she wound up using it in order to read weather for a few minutes on the morning news every weekday. Her coven would surely be so proud. As if they kept tabs on her for any reason other than making sure the Raine name didn't drag itself through the mud any more than it already was.
The absolute worst part was waking up. Technically news never slept but the morning news prided itself on being there for people that liked to turn the television on while they ate cold cereal and toast and needed a talking point for the water cooler when the hot show or sports were in the off season. Six in the morning every morning, which meant Raine had to be in the studio no later than five thirty. Fortunately Ryleigh had mastered the art of not making much noise when getting ready, Gemma didn't deserve to miss out on sleep because of Ryleigh's unique choices in life. Depending on the amount of coverage and breaking news, Ryleigh's segment came on anywhere between six thirty and seven and once more for the late arrivals at quarter to eight. Ten minutes, tops, with most of her work day spent in a chair while an underpaid intern put some bounce in her hair.
It could be worse, Ryleigh justified, she could always be on the evening news as well.
This morning saw Ryleigh take the early train to the news building, say her greeting to the poor desk clerk who existed just to tell people which elevator bank to go to, and arrive in the green room for the local news. It wasn't exactly the BBC - they probably had a bit more professional decorum comparatively - but it was still the news. Ryleigh didn't fully hate her job, of course, just the unfortunate personal inconveniences that every young professional surely felt; if there was a poll Ryleigh would be certain that ninety percent of people hated their jobs due to ridiculous reasons like 'not living up to their potential' or whatever. Though giving a weather forecast was not how a little Ryleigh envisioned her adult life, that she could get away with delivering the forecast in whatever manner she fancied (assuming it was fit for broadcast, of course) had kept her complacent for the most part.
"Can you believe we're still on about this Bloodfang nonsense?" From the makeup chair next to Ryleigh came the sharp voice of Constance Chapin, one of the two anchors (three if one included Heath Darcy, who did sports) and who Ryleigh always said looked a bit like Emily Blunt which was meant as a compliment but wasn't taken as such. "I've heard of slow news days but this is ridiculous."
Normally, Ryleigh wasn't the type to socialize with her co-workers when the camera wasn't rolling, but it was clear that Constance was trying to get some reinforcement. "Yeah, I can't imagine why people would wanna know about a guy that took out three girls. Sorry. Allegedly. Lawyers, right?" Ryleigh spoke up, doing little to hide her sarcasm.
Constance either hadn't expected the response or didn't appreciate it. The anchorwoman turned her gaze to the weather girl and the tightly pursed lips might as well have been a wealthy socialite looking down the nose at a pauper for all the vitriol contained therein. "It's nonsense. People actually believe this talk of 'Other'? That someone named Nick Bloodfang exists? Gullible idiots, the lot of them. The people that believe this 'Other' bunk probably believe anyone who wears a pointed hat is a witch."
"Witches don't wear those hats anymore, they went out of style in like the 1800s." Ryleigh replied in full-on deadpan and it wasn't until Constance glared at her that Ryleigh cleared her throat with a little bit of laughter. Her little off-handed remark was not at all appreciated by Constance.
"Viral marketing, that's all it is."
Ryleigh kept her comments to herself and let Constance rant and rave in peace. Ryleigh did suddenly have an idea for the day's weather report, though, and she had to excuse herself and take a trip down to wardrobe.
By the time the clock struck six, the Edgetoun News played its little ditty and the headlines were read off and reported on by the anchors. By quarter to seven Constance threw over to the weather. The weather report had its own name that Ryleigh requested by making a little request to the producer with winking eyes and a suggestive voice. Other news channels just had the weather. Edgetoun had 'Raine or Shine with Ryleigh Raine'.
"Thanks, Connie." Ryleigh knew that every time she called Constance 'Connie' that the anchor hated it. Constance was likely to hate Ryleigh's outfit this morning since it looked like a strong case of 'Halloween come early'. Ryleigh had a black pointed witch's hat, complete with wide bill, and to complete the ensemble she had a black and red corset and frilly skirt and heeled boots, something that wouldn't look out of place in a costume store for 'Sexy Witch', albeit a tame version. She even had a little wand in her hand which doubled as a pointer. "Ladies and gentlemen it's February and you know what that means. That's right, it means it's almost March. Fortunately today is going to be a bit brisk but not like the biting chill of winter. You can get away with a light jacket though I would leave the shorts at home."
Ryleigh gestured with her wand to the colored representation of clouds rolling in. "Of course it'll get cooler in the evening so for those of you who will be making the most of your Friday night, be sure to dress appropriately. It's hard to shake your stuff if your stuff is frigid. Do you ever shake your stuff, Connie, or are you too frigid?"
The camera cut to Constance who was struggling to keep her composure. Before Constance responded the focus was back on Ryleigh who now stood to the side and let the weekend forecast display show up for the viewers at home. "As you can see we're in for a bit of a cool weekend but spring is ever on the horizon. Which of course means now's the perfect time to invest in an umbrella. And as some of you are aware, this Sunday marks the full moon. I am required to inform you that in light of recent stories to take certain precautions. That, ladies and gentlemen, is your weekend forecast. Raine or Shine, I'm always on time. Now here's Mister Darcy to tell you how ardently he admires and loves sports."
When the cameras were off Ryleigh, she stepped away and went to the back to sit down and admire her handiwork. The job did have its perks. She might not have been quitting anytime soon, but she was sure that a certain anchor might be clamoring for her to be fired. It was the little things that made all the difference.
Ryleigh was out of the studio a little before nine and that was the best part of the gig. Early hours made for a fairly open schedule. The weather was kind of the most useless part of any given news broadcast given how easy it was to just check on a phone, but Ryleigh made the best of it. She had to give the people a reason to care and she settled on fun costumes and banter. Clearly it worked given she still had a job. With her job done and her attire back to normal, Ryleigh stopped into a coffee shop on her way back. Coffee wasn't normally her thing but her eye caught sight of a few pastries and often her stomach dictated the route.
The coffee shop was definitely some place she'd expect to find a congregation of people discussing acoustic rock music for hours which made it definitively 'not her scene' but coffee was coffee and pastries were pastries regardless of clientele. She did have to roll her eyes as they looked over the menu. What the hell was a 'cappurr-ccino'? Ryleigh made a mental note to maybe not come back here again if that was the kind of thing this place was going for. Why couldn't places just have a regular menu? She sounded like an old person now. It was quite unbecoming.
Ryleigh had her hands in the pockets of her jeans as she stood behind what she assumed was the only open register. An older man was talking somewhat intently with the young employee. It seemed like a private conversation but it wasn't as if Ryleigh could hear anything other than her own thoughts wandering and wondering who signed off on cat pun coffee menus. "You guys got like a May-December thing going on?" She spoke to the two of them with little regard for a filter. "Maybe you two can do your makeout thing later? I kinda wanna get a 'meow-chiato'."
"Excuse me.." A voice from behind Ryleigh drew her attention away from the conversation at the register and came face to face with someone that Ryleigh didn't know. They seemed to be a bit on the meek side given the small voice; if Ryleigh had to guess this person had simply rolled out of bed and went out. It seemed otherwise impossible for hair to be so...frizzy or a sweater to be so ghastly out of style by at least twenty years. Was that mauve? Did they make ANYTHING in mauve anymore?
"Line starts behind me." Ryleigh figured that would be the end of the interaction but she hadn't noticed that the mauve-clad person had a cup of coffee already in hand.
"Oh, no, not that. I...um...sorry if this is...you know...weird but...are you Ryleigh Raine? From the news?"
This was a first. Not technically, she'd been recognized before, but this was a rarity. Rare enough to where it felt like the first time. Though Ryleigh was on television five days a week it wasn't like she was a household name like an actual actress or something which was great for maintaining anonymity. "Never heard of her."
"You're funny in person too. I don't...I don't want a picture or anything I just wanted to say hi. I watch the weather every day." The person was either a fan or someone that just watched the news and by extension the weather. It was probably the closest they'd come to being star struck if Ryleigh had to hazard a guess. "Well...have a good day!"
And before Ryleigh could think of something witty to say, they were out the door and on their way. Not the strangest interaction she'd had with a fan but still it made Ryleigh shake her head and turn back to the cross-generational lover's meeting going on in front of her. Just as she was about to make another comment, the other worker behind the counter stood at the second register and waved Ryleigh over. "Does this place know that cats are lactose intolerant or is it just a cute little joke that the milk drinks are cat puns?" Ryleigh pulled out a crumpled bill and glanced again at the menu. "Now is the meow-chiato different from the es-purr-esso and don't you think that's a bit lazy when you already have cappurr-cino? Could I suggest 'kitty-au-lait'?" Ryleigh was smiling at her remarks which made for one person smiling at them. "Yeah, I'll get the macchiato and a cream cheese danish."
It seemed increasingly evident that Ryleigh wouldn't be coming back here anytime soon, if she wasn't barred from entry for her cheek anyway.
KAREN SCALETTI
Give a little bit
Give a little bit of your love to me
There's so much that we need to share. So send a smile, and show you care
Karen was running late this morning and that might as well have been the end of the world. She had always prided herself on being a bit on the punctual side but today was different. When the alarm sounded, yanking Karen from a happy dream where she was being given a cute little trophy for 'Teacher of the Year', she promptly put the pillow back over her head and pleaded for a few more minutes before somewhere in the back of her mind she convinced herself it was Saturday. That seemed right. It felt like a Saturday so it must have been a Saturday. There wasn't any school on Saturday so she didn't have to have office hours which meant a little more sleep before spending the day with a mug of coffee, a few crackers with cheese spread, and catching up on reality dating programs or seeing what streaming had to offer. Kind of the perfect Saturday in a way. She really wanted to know who was going to win the heart of the Bachelorette this series.
The dreams of an ideal Saturday lasted for a good half hour before her children voiced their wish for breakfast. Still, not the worst thing to happen. She could get out of bed, feed her kids, then crawl back for another hour or so. The cries for sustenance only grew louder and Karen voiced her understanding as she crawled out of bed, bare feet sending a sudden shiver up her spine as she stepped on cold flooring.
Karen rubbed her eyes as she crossed from her bedroom to the kitchen. Her steps were light but they seemed to echo off the plain eggshell walls which were devoid of any decoration; the only bit of decoration was a framed photo on the mantle in the living room. The photo in question was of Karen and her two children which was a bit of a hassle to get taken in the first place given how unruly kids could be. Karen's place was lived in but every bit of it felt like it was unoccupied. If it wasn't for the stack of mail on the coffee table it could almost seem like Karen was squatting; she wasn't, she just lived in a place where the only rooms that saw any use were the kitchen, the living room, and her bedroom which had a bathroom attached to it. There was plenty of space for others but there was only one pair of shoes. One person's clothes in the closet. A fridge of condiments and leftover Chinese takeaway. A drawer full of takeaway menus. A bedroom bookshelf full of pulpy novels with Fabio wannabe's on the cover.
Karen set two bowls out and opened the cupboard next to the fridge. The familiar sound of bits of food clinking against the bowl summoned her kids from their own beds. "Hey, hey, wait until I put it down." Karen spoke with a softly stern voice but it was the only way to get the kids to back away. She set the bowls down on the floor, next to their water dish. "Breakfast is served." With a purr of acknowledgment, Raggedy Anne and Haggardly Randi dug into their food while Karen gave them space to enjoy their kibble.
Though she would've liked to crawl back into bed she knew full well that once she was up she was up for good. Yawning, Karen took a seat in the living room, reaching for the remote and turning the television on. "Do you ever shake your stuff, Connie, or are you too frigid?" There was a little bit of relief in knowing that she didn't miss Raine or Shine, arguably the highlight of the otherwise dry morning news. It was strange, though, she didn't think Ryleigh Raine did the weather on Saturday. Karen's eyes went wide as it became clear that today wasn't Saturday at all. Now came the time to scramble.
A quick shower, a quicker battle with her eternal frizzy bedhead, and a debate over the outfit of the day - a purple sweater and jeans won out in the end - and Karen was at least on track to make decent time. Her office hours started at nine and she had already wasted time in ignoring her alarm and taking her sweet time in feeding her cats. By the time she was out the door she had totally forgotten that she hadn't had breakfast. It wasn't even eight and she was already anxious and exhausted and wondering how she was going to make it through the day.
One of these days Karen was going to invest in a car but with the absence of a personal vehicle she was going to have to walk as she did fairly regularly. Some days she arranged a ride but she tended to enjoy the walk, it wasn't all that long from her residence to the high school and public transportation was always handy so she never particularly minded the lack of a car. She was a bit pressed for time today, however, which led to a little bit of a quickened pace, especially since she would be going a little bit out of her way. While many students enjoyed their coffee from The Crypt, Karen found the name a bit bleak and its location even more so; Karen generally preferred going to the Daily Grind because where else could she get a cappurr-ccino? How adorable was that? Sometimes they even drew a little cat on the cup and that was always worth the extra trip.
It was a good half hour or so but she made it to the Grind and took a moment to catch her breath from her quicker pace. She stepped to the counter and ordered her usual: cappurr-ccino and a cranberry muffin, and deposited her change in the tip jar - along with a little extra - and she stepped to the side. Usually she would save the muffin for when she got to school but she needed the extra bit of energy so while she waited for her drink to be made she enjoyed the muffin. Most of it, anyway. The final few bites she almost choked on as she saw an incredibly familiar face enter the Grind.
For what seemed like an hour Karen wondered if she should go say something. She'd never met someone famous, or at least someone that was on television before, and yet there was someone she had just seen this morning. She was so absorbed in the moment that it took the barista tapping her on the shoulder to hand over the drink for Karen to remember a few specifics. Namely her pressed schedule. In all her time coming here, she'd never seen her here. What if this was a one time thing? She could just...say hello. Nothing weird about that. She would just be confident and friendly, like any other person.
"Excuse me..." Karen approached and spoke up, there was likely not going to be another opportunity to just say hello.
"Line starts behind me."
"Oh, no, not that. I...um...sorry if this is...you know...weird but...are you Ryleigh Raine? From the news?" So much for the confidence. Karen could hear her voice shaking and wavering but she couldn't just tap out now, not when she'd jumped over the hardest hurdle already. There was something kind of intimidating about Ryleigh, it had to be because Karen knew hew from the news and she had built up in her mind the belief that people on television were somehow unapproachable by the average citizen.
"Never heard of her."
Karen chuckled at the comment. It was a good little joke and it probably came from a place of constant recognition. Karen was probably just another on a long line of people that Ryleigh had to deal with on a daily basis. "You're funny in person too. I don't...I don't want a picture or anything I just wanted to say hi. I watch the weather every day." If she didn't have a coffee in one hand she might've palmed her on forehead at that. Now Ryleigh probably thought Karen was a weird stalker type. She basically just admitted that she watched Ryleigh every day. A bit creepy. Now was the time to bail out before she made it worse.
"Well...have a good day!"
Karen didn't even wave before she was out the door and putting distance between her and the Daily Grind. She could never come back there. Not if she would run into Ryleigh Raine again and make things even more awkward. Maybe it was time to embrace the Crypt Cafe. So what if it was near a graveyard, it wasn't as if zombies would sprout up all of a sudden. Just when she thought that being potentially late was the worst thing that could happen today.
Late. That's right. She had to hurry on.
Karen jogged the last distance to Crowley High when she rounded the corner that the school sat on. She had to take a moment to catch her breath outside the staff entrance and to compose herself. When she stepped through the doors she wasn't 'Karen who lived alone with two cats', she was 'Karen who lived alone with two cats but also a guidance counselor who helped wayward teens make good decisions'. There was a very clear distinction between the two.
Her office was as she left it. Her hard-earned degree hanging on the wall. The cabinet in the corner where her puppets lived. The guitar in the opposite corner for when she needed a musical touch to connect to the students. The comfy chairs to make the students feel at home and safe. Her desk with the screen saver of a cat pawing at a ball of yarn. Photos of Karen at various school events dotted her desk and the walls, along with several motivational posters (including no fewer than five that had cat motifs), and a few stress balls that sat atop her desk. There was an air of comfort and caring in every corner of her office, which was clearly by design. By her watch, she had made it with only a few minutes to spare. A bit close, but life was a series of close calls. She read that on a fortune cookie before.
For what it was worth, the counselor was in.
The dreams of an ideal Saturday lasted for a good half hour before her children voiced their wish for breakfast. Still, not the worst thing to happen. She could get out of bed, feed her kids, then crawl back for another hour or so. The cries for sustenance only grew louder and Karen voiced her understanding as she crawled out of bed, bare feet sending a sudden shiver up her spine as she stepped on cold flooring.
Karen rubbed her eyes as she crossed from her bedroom to the kitchen. Her steps were light but they seemed to echo off the plain eggshell walls which were devoid of any decoration; the only bit of decoration was a framed photo on the mantle in the living room. The photo in question was of Karen and her two children which was a bit of a hassle to get taken in the first place given how unruly kids could be. Karen's place was lived in but every bit of it felt like it was unoccupied. If it wasn't for the stack of mail on the coffee table it could almost seem like Karen was squatting; she wasn't, she just lived in a place where the only rooms that saw any use were the kitchen, the living room, and her bedroom which had a bathroom attached to it. There was plenty of space for others but there was only one pair of shoes. One person's clothes in the closet. A fridge of condiments and leftover Chinese takeaway. A drawer full of takeaway menus. A bedroom bookshelf full of pulpy novels with Fabio wannabe's on the cover.
Karen set two bowls out and opened the cupboard next to the fridge. The familiar sound of bits of food clinking against the bowl summoned her kids from their own beds. "Hey, hey, wait until I put it down." Karen spoke with a softly stern voice but it was the only way to get the kids to back away. She set the bowls down on the floor, next to their water dish. "Breakfast is served." With a purr of acknowledgment, Raggedy Anne and Haggardly Randi dug into their food while Karen gave them space to enjoy their kibble.
Though she would've liked to crawl back into bed she knew full well that once she was up she was up for good. Yawning, Karen took a seat in the living room, reaching for the remote and turning the television on. "Do you ever shake your stuff, Connie, or are you too frigid?" There was a little bit of relief in knowing that she didn't miss Raine or Shine, arguably the highlight of the otherwise dry morning news. It was strange, though, she didn't think Ryleigh Raine did the weather on Saturday. Karen's eyes went wide as it became clear that today wasn't Saturday at all. Now came the time to scramble.
A quick shower, a quicker battle with her eternal frizzy bedhead, and a debate over the outfit of the day - a purple sweater and jeans won out in the end - and Karen was at least on track to make decent time. Her office hours started at nine and she had already wasted time in ignoring her alarm and taking her sweet time in feeding her cats. By the time she was out the door she had totally forgotten that she hadn't had breakfast. It wasn't even eight and she was already anxious and exhausted and wondering how she was going to make it through the day.
One of these days Karen was going to invest in a car but with the absence of a personal vehicle she was going to have to walk as she did fairly regularly. Some days she arranged a ride but she tended to enjoy the walk, it wasn't all that long from her residence to the high school and public transportation was always handy so she never particularly minded the lack of a car. She was a bit pressed for time today, however, which led to a little bit of a quickened pace, especially since she would be going a little bit out of her way. While many students enjoyed their coffee from The Crypt, Karen found the name a bit bleak and its location even more so; Karen generally preferred going to the Daily Grind because where else could she get a cappurr-ccino? How adorable was that? Sometimes they even drew a little cat on the cup and that was always worth the extra trip.
It was a good half hour or so but she made it to the Grind and took a moment to catch her breath from her quicker pace. She stepped to the counter and ordered her usual: cappurr-ccino and a cranberry muffin, and deposited her change in the tip jar - along with a little extra - and she stepped to the side. Usually she would save the muffin for when she got to school but she needed the extra bit of energy so while she waited for her drink to be made she enjoyed the muffin. Most of it, anyway. The final few bites she almost choked on as she saw an incredibly familiar face enter the Grind.
For what seemed like an hour Karen wondered if she should go say something. She'd never met someone famous, or at least someone that was on television before, and yet there was someone she had just seen this morning. She was so absorbed in the moment that it took the barista tapping her on the shoulder to hand over the drink for Karen to remember a few specifics. Namely her pressed schedule. In all her time coming here, she'd never seen her here. What if this was a one time thing? She could just...say hello. Nothing weird about that. She would just be confident and friendly, like any other person.
"Excuse me..." Karen approached and spoke up, there was likely not going to be another opportunity to just say hello.
"Line starts behind me."
"Oh, no, not that. I...um...sorry if this is...you know...weird but...are you Ryleigh Raine? From the news?" So much for the confidence. Karen could hear her voice shaking and wavering but she couldn't just tap out now, not when she'd jumped over the hardest hurdle already. There was something kind of intimidating about Ryleigh, it had to be because Karen knew hew from the news and she had built up in her mind the belief that people on television were somehow unapproachable by the average citizen.
"Never heard of her."
Karen chuckled at the comment. It was a good little joke and it probably came from a place of constant recognition. Karen was probably just another on a long line of people that Ryleigh had to deal with on a daily basis. "You're funny in person too. I don't...I don't want a picture or anything I just wanted to say hi. I watch the weather every day." If she didn't have a coffee in one hand she might've palmed her on forehead at that. Now Ryleigh probably thought Karen was a weird stalker type. She basically just admitted that she watched Ryleigh every day. A bit creepy. Now was the time to bail out before she made it worse.
"Well...have a good day!"
Karen didn't even wave before she was out the door and putting distance between her and the Daily Grind. She could never come back there. Not if she would run into Ryleigh Raine again and make things even more awkward. Maybe it was time to embrace the Crypt Cafe. So what if it was near a graveyard, it wasn't as if zombies would sprout up all of a sudden. Just when she thought that being potentially late was the worst thing that could happen today.
Late. That's right. She had to hurry on.
Karen jogged the last distance to Crowley High when she rounded the corner that the school sat on. She had to take a moment to catch her breath outside the staff entrance and to compose herself. When she stepped through the doors she wasn't 'Karen who lived alone with two cats', she was 'Karen who lived alone with two cats but also a guidance counselor who helped wayward teens make good decisions'. There was a very clear distinction between the two.
Her office was as she left it. Her hard-earned degree hanging on the wall. The cabinet in the corner where her puppets lived. The guitar in the opposite corner for when she needed a musical touch to connect to the students. The comfy chairs to make the students feel at home and safe. Her desk with the screen saver of a cat pawing at a ball of yarn. Photos of Karen at various school events dotted her desk and the walls, along with several motivational posters (including no fewer than five that had cat motifs), and a few stress balls that sat atop her desk. There was an air of comfort and caring in every corner of her office, which was clearly by design. By her watch, she had made it with only a few minutes to spare. A bit close, but life was a series of close calls. She read that on a fortune cookie before.
For what it was worth, the counselor was in.
<Snipped quote by Fabricant451>
And issues don't make a game 'bad' either, but I haven't played it and I probably never will so I wont try and build a counter argument off of youtube let's play footage.
No, what makes a game bad is a collection of issues ruining the core experience. The most impressive part of the game is its dedication to cinematic presentation with a steady cam one take style in cutscenes, but that novelty wears off right around the time the game decides to open up...but not really. There's not a lot of enemy variety or even animation variety which makes the combat stale since there are only so many times fighting slight color variations on shambling zombies, bug elves, or rock monsters with the same exact strategy and attack patterns can be fun.
The most fun I've had with the game so far was getting to the Lake of the Nine and stumbling onto an easily missable quest involving a dragon and another one involving a mine because neither were hindered with the whole "Nope, come back later, stop exploring now" and at least tried to make the puzzles a bit more interesting than "move chain, throw axe," or "throw axe in a line" where the puzzle is more of a puzzle of positioning rather than ingenuity.
It'd be one thing if the story was at least compelling enough to power through but since the characters deal in vague and Kratos is monosyllabic, that's a wash. It makes it really difficult to want to keep playing on the hope that maybe it'll get better because what I've played so far...it's doubtful that it does.
And yet it's still better than the originals.
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