Grimoire Gaming

Rosefell High.

Cael Crawford || Rosefell High

Name

Cael Lee Crawford

Nickames

TBD based on IC interactions

Age

17

Gender

Cis Male

Sexuality

Decidedly homosexual after some years experimenting with bicuriosity

Relationship Status

Single

Label

Dancer, Thespian, Gossip, Flirt

Appearance Details

• Hair: Cael’s touchably soft, shaggy hair has been chemically altered since basically forever (a.k.a. early middle school). Cael’s locks are bleached to a pale blonde color that he often temporarily dyes himself to appear any number of pastel shades. Mint green, powder blue, and soft lavender appear to be his favorites, which he frequently switches between to suit his ever-shifting moods. Currently, his hair is a light lavender purple.
• Eyes: Cael has heterochromia — both of his eyes have underlying grey tones, but his right is greenish while his left is more blue.
• Height: 5’7
• Body Type: Slim but toned from many years of dance and other activities
• Clothing Style: Pastel colors, loud prints, cozy sweaters, black skinnies, floral designs, patterned tank tops, and punk boots. Cael’s sense of fashion is a little all over the map, yet it is undeniably fashionable. He wears what he wants when he wants, and he boldly owns his flamboyant style choices.
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Virgin skin… but considering earlobe piercings.

Personality Traits

If one were to divide people into seasons based on personality, Cael would be the embodiment of spring. On the average day, he is cheerful and energetic, with one of the most contagious laughs that you have ever heard. The old saying goes that you cannot have May’s flowers without first April’s showers, and similarly, Cael is as prone to bouts of melancholy as he is to his more… manic episodes. His mood is as shifting and temperamental as springtime weather.

At a young seventeen years old, Cael is relatively guideless and woefully naïve in terms of what the “real world” is like. This is partially because Cael spends a fair amount of time in his own head, so instead of being shackled by the restraints of reality, Cael is boundlessly imaginative and full of fresh ideas, with an unyielding desire to learn and grow as much as possible. Cael is also inherently meddlesome, always getting into other people’s business, and is intrigued by all things gossipy. It’s all in good fun, of course! Cael doesn’t intend to harm anybody with gossip, he just likes to entertain the tales that waft around the halls of Rosefell High… and maybe, fan the flames, just a little bit.

Biography

Cael Crawford, like many students of Rosefell High, had a relatively modest upbringing. Cheryl Murphy and William Crawford were high school sweethearts that grew up in Ohio, went to school in Ohio, and have lived in Ohio ever since. The Crawfords got married shortly after Cheryl graduated from Columbus State University and landed her first teaching job at Rosefell Elementary, while Bill had went to work as a logger straight out of high school. Cael came into the world not even two years after their nuptial union, and the boy has shaken up their otherwise cookie cutter, traditional lives ever since.

Cael was far from a normal boy growing up. He frequently talked to his imaginary friends in the closet, under his bed, and most importantly, in the backyard. He spent the majority of his childhood playing outdoors, rolling in the grass and soaking up as much sunshine as he could in the dreary Ohio climate. He was an indecisive child, unable to pick a single hobby or activity to practice — he sang, he danced, he played instruments, and he participated on sports teams. The only activity that consistently stuck with him then and continues to stick with him now, is dance. His boundless energy and easily distracted mind earned him a diagnosis of ADHD as a child, but that mattered little to him. Cael was as happy as could be, though the same was not true for the Crawford parents.

Children with the endless font of energy associated with ADHD often begin acting out in class. Cael was no exception to this, often finding himself in the role of class clown — disruptive and meddlesome. Cael endured many a day of detention and even the occasional suspension, which really stressed his mother’s pride as a teacher. She had raised her boy better than that! And then, of course, came highschool, when Cael’s experimentation with vibrant and flamboyant self-expression became experimentation with sexuality. Cael would sneak out at night to be with girls and… eventually, boys as well. That last part was what stressed his literal lumberjack of a father the most. He had raised his boy better than that!

With all that said, the Crawford home is a loving one at the end of the day. His parents accept him for who he is even if they don’t approve of his behaviors. They just wish he could be more normal, and well-behaved. On the flipside, Cael just wishes that they’d give him more freedom to fly. All he needs is to find his wings so he can soar up and out of this dusty old midwestern city. Where to? … not a fuckin’ clue!

Family

Mother — Cheryl Crawford (Elementary School Teach) | Father — William Crawford (Logger/Lumberjack)

Misc.

• Cael works part time as a barista at Plouf, a cafe and patisserie on the wealthier side of town known for its wannabe french decor and insufferable clientele. The java drinks, teas, and pastries are actually fantastic though, so it’s worth it. Cael actually really likes his job, especially the discounted bakery treats to quell his insatiable sweet tooth, and the free coffee perks, not that he needs the extra energy.
• Recently obtained a fake ID with the intent to go clubbing, as a nightlife of dancing and grinding while covered in glitter and sequins seems like the best place for Cael to bloom.
• Cael is the number one supporter of the Rosefell High theater department and participates as the male lead in nearly every production — despite it being WOEFULLY underfunded and kind of lame as a result.
• The Liberty High kids joining Rosefell is a very exciting prospect for Cael. 1) There is about to be an incredible influx of super hot future sugar daddies, and his body could not be any more ready. 2) All these trust fund kiddos are gonna come with their rich parents, which could mean extra money for the goddamned theater and arts departments!
• FC: Awsten Knight | CC: 676FA5 | Font: Unicorns are Awesome

Cael's Relations

𝙲𝚊𝚎𝚕'𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

---

𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜

---

𝚁𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚜

“Rae is the peanut butter to my jelly. The can to my spam. From backyard hooligans, to mischief makers, hair dye buddies, pastel punk prowlers... we’re ride or die, man. We’ve been best friends for forever, since we live right down the street from each other. Rae used to come over all the time and we would go on all kinds of fantastical adventures together in the backyard. To this day, she still swears that the faeries we talked to were real but, I dunno, man. I mean… maybe? They say magic is just science we don’t understand yet, right? Anyway, before you ask, because everyone ALWAYS asks, no, we’re not dating. Yes, we hold hands sometimes. Yes, we go to school dances together occasionally. Yes, we taught each other how to kiss in middle school. But it was just like… educational, ya know? Honestly, I think everyone should practice kissing with someone they trust to give them constructive criticism. It’s way better than embarrassing yourself with a potential romantic partner you’re trying to impress. I’m just saying...”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

𝚂𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚜 𝙱𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚊

“Sean is a hero and a national treasure, honestly. He has come in so clutch when it comes to Rosefell’s dismal budget for theater. Between his skills with a needle and thread, and the combined efforts of our motley crew of fellow cast members’ creativity… we make it work on a dime. Also, his personality is just kind of contagious. Once I got to know Sean, I was glad that I got to call him a friend. I think a lot of people assume that we aren’t tight because we sometimes compete for the lead male role in the school’s productions, but it’s not like that. We’re chill and supportive of each other, always. And those insults everyone talks about us yelling at each other in the halls? They’re just lines to musicals, and these plebeians don’t get our dignified references. Their loss, not ours. Also! Anime nights with Sean, Rae and I are the shit. Y’all are really missing out on the pocky and kawaii vibes.”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎

“Information about relation here.”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

𝙻𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜

---

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎

“Information about relation here.”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎

“Information about relation here.”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

Rosefell High.

A fresh start.

Could you even call it that when it was your second time doing so? Today’s start felt about as fresh as day old bread. Tough, sharp, hard to swallow. Liberty was meant to be a fresh start, and look how that turned out. Niki’s thoughts ran a mile a minute as they blow-dried out their caramel blond locks. The ghastly person staring back at them in the mirror looked about as confident as they felt — not at all. Nik had barely slept a wink last night, their head spinning about what their first day at Rosefell would be like.

Would their fellow Liberty classmates remember them? Would they stare? Would they ask prying questions? Were there rumors about why they disappeared half way through last spring semester? How could this be a fresh start when Niki had no idea what stories had been flooding the halls of Liberty at the end of sophomore year, stories that might bleed into the locker rooms of Rosefell as well. But maybe they were overthinking this, it was more likely that nobody but his sister and two best friends even noticed that they were ever gone.

A dash of concealer under the eyes was an attempt to cover up both the dark circles and the anxiety that put them there. Best not to show up to their first day of school looking like a drug addict. Hell, that might be one of the rumors. Niki wore the lightest of make-up, just enough to cover their many flaws, but not enough to look too flashy… or too feminine. That could be saved for instagram, after school. Despite Emily’s best efforts to embolden her bestie, Nik was still cautious about being their true self in the public eye. That felt like being naked… embarrassing, and dangerous.

That said, Niki decided to get a little daring, adding a coat of mascara to their eyelashes. It was hard to wallow in self-doubt and criticism when Lizzo was singing at them to get ready to walk their fine ass out the door. Maybe after getting dressed in the outfit they bought on a recent shopping trip with Emi, Niki could try “feelin' good as hell”. Speaking of that feeling, there was someone recently that was helping them get close to that.

Wade Quinn.

Just the thought of their secret, shaggy brown-haired lover was enough to send a rush of dopamine through their system. A warm pulse tinged their cheeks pink in a blush as they bit their lip. Looking up at their reflection, for the first time this morning, Niki Zabrecky smiled. For the first time this morning, they felt pretty. Pretty enough to snap an outfit of the day selfie and open up their DMs with Wade, sending the picture along with a caption.

To: @FreeWadey
I hope you have a good first day! ❤

With that message sent and the dopamine-infused confidence boost that followed, Niki made their way downstairs where the aromas of first-day-of-school breakfast greeted them. Their mother, Anna, had made chocolate chip pancakes — a particular favorite of Niki’s, especially with some sliced bananas on top. Niki ate mostly in silence until Alina arrived in the kitchen. They would be relying on their sister for rides to school, since hospitalization had gotten in the way of their driving lessons last year. “Mornin’, Ali. I’m ready whenever you are.”

Rosefell High.

Nik Zabrecky || Liberty High {TW: self-harm, suicide, ED, mental illness & transgender identity issues}

Name

Nikolai Ian Zabrecky

Nickames

Nik or Niki, these are prefered to Nikolai

Age

16, Feb 27

Gender

Non-binary, assigned male at birth

Sexuality

Pansexual

Relationship Status

Never-been-kissed single virgin by day
Secretly talking to a Rosefell boy in DMs by night

Label

The Quiet One/Misfit

Appearance Details

• Hair: Shoulder-length salted caramel waves
• Eyes: Brown
• Height: 5’10
• Body Type: Thin and lanky, sometimes to an unhealthy extent
• Clothing Style: Niki’s style could be described as somewhat bohemian with a preference for oversized clothes in neutral colors that hide their body. A trained eye could tell that they certainly have a taste for fashion, but they are holding themselves back from truly expressing themselves with it. That trained eye would be correct in this assumption, as Nik really enjoys the culture of fashion and follows many models, brands, and trends on social media. They even have a sewing machine that they have tried to make their own clothes on before… but none of these pieces have seen the light of day. Not yet, at least.
• Makeup Wise: They want to wear it publicly but thus far have only done so with tinted chapsticks and barely there nude eyeshadows. In the safety of their bedroom, though, they experiment with colors and trying to recreate looks that they find on Instagram.
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Nik occasionally wears a septum ring and has a scar on their left eyebrow from an old piercing that healed over. Nik also has a collection of self-inflicted scars along their forearms and thighs which they keep hidden under long sleeves, even in the warmer months.

Personality Traits

^{{{ GENUINE • INSECURE • OBSESSIVE • OPEN-MINDED • EFFEMINATE • IMAGINATIVE • ANXIOUS }}}

Niki typically goes through life as a wallflower, quietly blending in with baggy clothes in muted colors. They don’t want to be noticed, not really. If someone does happen to notice them, that person will find a kind hearted and open-minded individual, despite their brokenness, perhaps even because of it. Silent and introverted, Nik much prefers listening to talking, especially now that their voice has grown deeper, which they don’t like to hear out loud. Regardless of insecurities, listening to others’ thoughts and ideas and feelings has always been better than dwelling on one's own struggles. The teen’s quiet nature can make them seem aloof and stoic, but they are by no means judgemental or closed off, they’re just… in their own head a lot of the time. Those closest to Niki know that they will fight more to support their friends than they ever would fight for themself. This combination of traits makes a Niki a hard friend to make, but a wonderful friend to have and keep.

Biography

It was obvious to Nikolai’s parents from a very young age that their son was different. On christmas he asked for both Tonka trucks and Barbie dolls. He would go outside and catch bugs and then come inside to play princess dress up with his older sister. Kids can be like that sometimes, so his parents didn’t think much of it. The other children didn’t seem to mind, so why should they, if Nikolai was doing what made him happy?

When Nikolai was in late elementary and early middle school, things grew more complicated. The girls in his class started wearing make-up and giggling about bras and boys. Nik wanted to be like them, so he talked to his parents about this and, because they loved him, his mother took him to the store and picked out some makeup and training bras. Nik proudly wore these things to school the next day.

At first, everything went unnoticed by his peers. The makeup was subtle, and the bra hidden safely under his shirt. Nik was confident and happy, feeling pretty, like he had always wanted to feel. This happiness was short lived, however, as adolescents tend to ostracize those who stray from the social norm. Niki dared to wear a dress after convincing his mother that it would be okay, and that his friends said it would be fine. It wasn’t okay, and those ‘friends’ laughed at him. Nikolai was brutally bullied by his fellow students, physically by the boys and socially by the girls. He quickly became a social outcast, labeled ‘freak’ and ‘gay’ and whatever other unclever nicknames the kids had cooked up on any particular day.

The bullying grew so intense that Nik’s parents had to relocate the whole family so that their child could attend a different school and have a brand new start at Liberty High for freshman year of high school. Unbeknownst to them, it was already too late, the internal damage had been done. Nikolai had become a different person; Their once bright and colorful child had faded to grey. The criticisms of his peers had become his own, yet amplified. The older he got, the less he felt like a he… but not completely like she, either. They became they, and they became no one.

A new school did little to improve Nik’s quality of life. They went to class and did their homework, because they had to. They came home and sat alone in their room, avoiding their parents and what few friends they had still managed to keep. Sometimes they would stare at the full length mirror behind their door for hours, a black sharpie in hand that they used to draw X’s above all of the flaws in their reflection. No one is sure when those markered X’s on the mirror turned into razor kisses on their skin, but they did. Niki intentionally picked out and wore baggy clothing to hide the scars and marks, and also to camouflage their body.

This downhill spiral of unseen psychological warfare and battles with self-harm led to where these struggles unfortunately sometimes do lead. Halfway through the spring semester of their sophomore year, Nik switched directions and intentionally cut deeper. Whether it was the sight of so much blood, or the sheer loss of it, Niki passed out almost immediately. They awoke in a hospital bed, confused and bandaged up with a very forlorn looking mother and father staring back at them. After a period of physical healing, Nik was checked into Treewit Psychiatric Hospital for Adolescents, where they were diagnosed with and treated for depression and anxiety related to Gender Dysphoria and disordered eating related to Body Dysmophic Disorder.

Their grades were good enough that they didn’t have to repeat sophomore year, but they did not return to Liberty High to take their final exams, and instead took them from their facility. Nik was released from Treewit midway through summer vacation where they spent most of their time healing and focusing on their hobbies: crafting, sewing, reading fantasy novels, and spending way too much time on the internet. Niki only met with his closest friends from Liberty High during the summer, who informed them that their school was closing and they’d be headed to Rosefell High in the fall instead. As for all of Niki’s other peers and classmates, they have not interacted with them since the day before Nik’s brush with death and mysterious disappearance from school. This will, no doubt, be a topic of gossip when they finally do return to the school halls. Or maybe… nobody but Nik’s best friends even noticed that they were gone.

Family

Mother — Anna Zabrecky (Wedding Planner) | Father — Bernard Zabrecky (Accountant) | Sister — TBA

Misc.

• Transgender — Niki currently prefers they/their pronouns because their gender identity is still undetermined and non-binary.
• Overly self critical — This sometimes manifests physically in the form of nail biting, skin picking, and other self-harming behaviors.
• Mirrors — Nik is either obsessively looking in them to analyze their reflection, or obsessively avoiding them in shame of their own appearance.
• Disordered eating — Niki goes through bouts of complete avoidance of food as a means to cope with their discontent in their own body. It is not that Niki sees themself as overweight, it is the incessant recurring negative thoughts about their own body being imperfect and mismatched that pushes Nik to change it. As plastic surgery isn’t an option yet, eating is something that Niki can and does limit to alter their appearance.
• FC: Stav Strashko | CC: E9967A | Font: Whitelist

Niki's Relations

𝙽𝚒𝚔𝚒'𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

---

𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜

---

𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚗

“Everyone has secrets, and I guess Wade is one of mine. I don’t know how it happened, really, and I'm still not sure it isn’t all just a dream I’ve made up. Part of my recovery is trying to build my confidence, and my therapist wanted me to try something new to do so. So, I made myself an Instagram account… under an alias, of course. I posted pictures of myself in looks I’d never dare to wear at school, and that’s when Wade came into my life. First it was just a like here or there, and then some comments, and then the next thing I knew I was only ever checking my phone to see if I had a DM from him. I’ve shared parts of myself with him that I haven’t shared with anyone else, figuratively and literally, because it’s easy to do that behind a screen. I feel safe with Wade, because I’ll never meet him for real, so I don’t have to be afraid of getting hurt. He’ll always be the perfect boy in my head that is the best part of waking up every morning, and says the last words I read every night.”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

---

𝙻𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜

---

𝙵𝚒𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊 𝙶𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚒

“Listening to Fi play her violin does more to ease my anxiety than any meds that they could have prescribed me at Treewit. I’m so lucky to have found such a kind-hearted, devoted, beautiful best friend, and I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t sit next to Fiamma during homeroom in freshman year. I’m so glad I was brave enough to introduce myself, because with Fiamma by my side, I feel almost normal. We have sleepovers where we stay up too late watching trashy reality TV, eating way too much junk food, doing each other’s hair, and then singing karaoke into the hairbrushes we were just using. The only stipulation is that I have to sleep in the guest bedroom at the end of the night, you know, because I’m not actually normal. But being friends with Fiamma makes me think that, maybe someday… I could be. And also, I would totally murder her if it meant I could have hair that gorgeous. Just kidding, of course …unless?”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

𝙰𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝚉𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚢

“It's cliche to say things like 'family is everything', but it's so true when it comes to Alina. My sister is my everything. I idolized her when we were growing up and she shaped me into who I am today. She protected me in every way that she knew how to in school, to her own detriment at times, and I can never thank her enough for that. I hope she knows how much I appreciate her, and that my demons are my own and they're not something that she can help me with. The fact that she was the one who found me when... when I... Well, I'll never forgive myself for what I did to her that night. She's changed so much. I didn't mean to hurt you Ali, it's not your fault. I promise, promise, promise to make it up to you, if I ever can. Hopefully Rosefell is the fresh start that we both so desperately need.”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

𝚁𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚎𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗

“You wouldn't expect people like Richie and myself to be on good terms. Him being the rich, preppy, popular, superfuckinggorgeous golden boy and me being well... me. A nobody. But, believe it or not... I think Richie might be one of the good guys? My family relocated to Columbus to try to avoid the kind of bullying that I endured in middles school, but it inevitably occurred at Liberty too. That is, until Richie stepped in. He doesn't just have a jawline like Superman, he kind of is a hero in his own right. He is to me, at least. That said, I can't be sure it isn't all just an elaborate prank and that one day he will show his true colors. It wouldn't be the first time someone in his station did something that cruel. Not all that glitters is gold, as they say.”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

𝙰𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙷𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍

“Ah yes, I know about Fi's secret. Not because she told me, but because I figured it out. One of the perks of being a wallflower is how skilled you become at observing people. It was so obvious to me when something changed between my bestie and Aiden. You see, Aiden used to be kind of a piece of shit. Fiamma and him would often engage in glare-offs in the hallway and there was just a general sense of disdain between them. And then... there wasn't anymore. No glares, no snide remarks. Fi started to act nervous around him, blushing like an absolute virgin, too. That's when I pressed her and learned that she wasn't anymore, a virgin, that is. After learning about her dirty little secret, I became Fi's cover story whenever she wanted to spend time with Aiden. As for how I feel about him, well... I trust Fiamma with my life. So, if he makes her happy, that's all that matters to me. If he ever stops making her happy, then we'll have a problem on our hands.”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛

“I used to play soccer when I was a kid, but my athletic tendencies died out long before middle school. Nowadays, I'm kind of a gym class zero and, as such, I'm usually picked last in gym class for things. At least, that was the case, until I met Emily in freshman year. She was the angel that came to my rescue and has been ever since. Emily challenges me to be a better version of myself, to push my limits, and to never talk down on myself. Her boldness and confidence is something that I idolize and envy, I wish I could be like her. Maybe someday I will be, but until then, I will be her shopping buddy and help level up her style like she levels up my self esteem.”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚜 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚢

“Fiamma seems to think that Marcos is a nice guy, but Fi sees the best in everyone. My sister, on the other hand, despises Marcos. I guess that leaves me somewhere in between. Marcos hasn't come at me at all, so I have no personal grudge... but, I have heard the stories of his heartbreaker past. One notable story is how he humiliated Juno by asking her out in front of a bunch of students but it was all just a prank. A bully is a bully, and that's just a shitty thing to be, no matter how fierce your jawline is.”

𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✔✔✔✔✔ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 ✖✖✖✖✖ 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ♥♥♥♥♥

---

Rosefell High.

Nik Zabrecky || Liberty High {TW: self-harm, suicide, ED, mental illness & transgender identity issues}

Name

Nikolai Ian Zabrecky

Nickames

Nik or Niki, these are prefered to Nikolai

Age

16

Gender

Non-binary, assigned male at birth

Sexuality

Pansexual

Relationship Status

Never-been-kissed single virgin by day
Secretly talking to a Rosefell boy in DMs by night

Label

The Quiet One/Misfit

Appearance Details

• Hair: Shoulder-length salted caramel waves
• Eyes: Brown
• Height: 5’10
• Body Type: Thin and lanky, sometimes to an unhealthy extent
• Clothing Style: Niki’s style could be described as somewhat bohemian with a preference for oversized clothes in neutral colors that hide their body. A trained eye could tell that they certainly have a taste for fashion, but they are holding themselves back from truly expressing themselves with it. That trained eye would be correct in this assumption, as Nik really enjoys the culture of fashion and follows many models, brands, and trends on social media. They even have a sewing machine that they have tried to make their own clothes on before… but none of these pieces have seen the light of day. Not yet, at least.
• Makeup Wise: They want to wear it publicly but thus far have only done so with tinted chapsticks and barely there nude eyeshadows. In the safety of their bedroom, though, they experiment with colors and trying to recreate looks that they find on Instagram.
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Nik occasionally wears a septum ring and has a scar on their left eyebrow from an old piercing that healed over. Nik also has a collection of self-inflicted scars along their forearms and thighs which they keep hidden under long sleeves, even in the warmer months.

Personality Traits

^{{{ GENUINE • INSECURE • OBSESSIVE • OPEN-MINDED • EFFEMINATE • IMAGINATIVE • ANXIOUS }}}

Niki typically goes through life as a wallflower, quietly blending in with baggy clothes in muted colors. They don’t want to be noticed, not really. If someone does happen to notice them, that person will find a kind hearted and open-minded individual, despite their brokenness, perhaps even because of it. Silent and introverted, Nik much prefers listening to talking, especially now that their voice has grown deeper, which they don’t like to hear out loud. Regardless of insecurities, listening to others’ thoughts and ideas and feelings has always been better than dwelling on one's own struggles. The teen’s quiet nature can make them seem aloof and stoic, but they are by no means judgemental or closed off, they’re just… in their own head a lot of the time. Those closest to Niki know that they will fight more to support their friends than they ever would fight for themself. This combination of traits makes a Niki a hard friend to make, but a wonderful friend to have and keep.

Biography

It was obvious to Nikolai’s parents from a very young age that their son was different. On christmas he asked for both Tonka trucks and Barbie dolls. He would go outside and catch bugs and then come inside to play princess dress up with his older sister. Kids can be like that sometimes, so his parents didn’t think much of it. The other children didn’t seem to mind, so why should they, if Nikolai was doing what made him happy?

When Nikolai was in late elementary and early middle school, things grew more complicated. The girls in his class started wearing make-up and giggling about bras and boys. Nik wanted to be like them, so he talked to his parents about this and, because they loved him, his mother took him to the store and picked out some makeup and training bras. Nik proudly wore these things to school the next day.

At first, everything went unnoticed by his peers. The makeup was subtle, and the bra hidden safely under his shirt. Nik was confident and happy, feeling pretty, like he had always wanted to feel. This happiness was short lived, however, as adolescents tend to ostracize those who stray from the social norm. Niki dared to wear a dress after convincing his mother that it would be okay, and that his friends said it would be fine. It wasn’t okay, and those ‘friends’ laughed at him. Nikolai was brutally bullied by his fellow students, physically by the boys and socially by the girls. He quickly became a social outcast, labeled ‘freak’ and ‘gay’ and whatever other unclever nicknames the kids had cooked up on any particular day.

The bullying grew so intense that Nik’s parents had to relocate the whole family so that their child could attend a different school and have a brand new start at Liberty High for freshman year of high school. Unbeknownst to them, it was already too late, the internal damage had been done. Nikolai had become a different person; Their once bright and colorful child had faded to grey. The criticisms of his peers had become his own, yet amplified. The older he got, the less he felt like a he… but not completely like she, either. They became they, and they became no one.

A new school did little to improve Nik’s quality of life. They went to class and did their homework, because they had to. They came home and sat alone in their room, avoiding their parents and what few friends they had still managed to keep. Sometimes they would stare at the full length mirror behind their door for hours, a black sharpie in hand that they used to draw X’s above all of the flaws in their reflection. No one is sure when those markered X’s on the mirror turned into razor kisses on their skin, but they did. Niki intentionally picked out and wore baggy clothing to hide the scars and marks, and also to camouflage their body.

This downhill spiral of unseen psychological warfare and battles with self-harm led to where these struggles unfortunately sometimes do lead. Halfway through the spring semester of their sophomore year, Nik switched directions and intentionally cut deeper. Whether it was the sight of so much blood, or the sheer loss of it, Niki passed out almost immediately. They awoke in a hospital bed, confused and bandaged up with a very forlorn looking mother and father staring back at them. After a period of physical healing, Nik was checked into Treewit Psychiatric Hospital for Adolescents, where they were diagnosed with and treated for depression and anxiety related to Gender Dysphoria and disordered eating related to Body Dysmophic Disorder.

Their grades were good enough that they didn’t have to repeat sophomore year, but they did not return to Liberty High to take their final exams, and instead took them from their facility. Nik was released from Treewit midway through summer vacation where they spent most of their time healing and focusing on their hobbies: crafting, sewing, reading fantasy novels, and spending way too much time on the internet. Niki only met with his closest friends from Liberty High during the summer, who informed them that their school was closing and they’d be headed to Rosefell High in the fall instead. As for all of Niki’s other peers and classmates, they have not interacted with them since the day before Nik’s brush with death and mysterious disappearance from school. This will, no doubt, be a topic of gossip when they finally do return to the school halls. Or maybe… nobody but Nik’s best friends even noticed that they were gone.

Family

Mother — Anna Zabrecky (Wedding Planner) | Father — Bernard Zabrecky (Accountant) | Sister — TBA

Misc.

• Transgender — Niki currently prefers they/their pronouns because their gender identity is still undetermined and non-binary.
• Overly self critical — This sometimes manifests physically in the form of nail biting, skin picking, and other self-harming behaviors.
• Mirrors — Nik is either obsessively looking in them to analyze their reflection, or obsessively avoiding them in shame of their own appearance.
• Disordered eating — Niki goes through bouts of complete avoidance of food as a means to cope with their discontent in their own body. It is not that Niki sees themself as overweight, it is the incessant recurring negative thoughts about their own body being imperfect and mismatched that pushes Nik to change it. As plastic surgery isn’t an option yet, eating is something that Niki can and does limit to alter their appearance.
• FC: Stav Strashko | CC: E9967A | Font: Whitelist

I love literally everything about Halloween, my favorite thing is probaby watching all kinds of spooky shows/movies during october.

Rosefell High.

Nikolai Ian Zabrecky || AMAB Non-Binary (they/them) || Liberty High Student || FC: Stav Strashko || CC: E9967A

Project Untamed

_{A @GhostMami & @smarty0114 Collaboration
Featuring Wesley Slater & Bradley Barron}
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Bradley’s head swiveled from Griffin’s receding form to Wes, back and forth, the extra basketball band still clutched in his hand. The pounding of the music was disorienting, and the liquor in his stomach wasn’t helping. He shouldn’t have come tonight. This was all about to go horribly wrong. He looked down at his empty cup, nerves swarming in his gut. Seize the day, seize the day, seizethedayseizethedayseizethday. The mantra blended together in his head until it was just a jumble of words, and Wes was standing in front of him, cute and slightly disheveled, but still, just right.

He did his best to grin and cover up the turmoil inside, reaching out to hand the band to Wes. “Griff wanted me to give you this,” Bradley said, holding up his own wrist to show off his matching one. “Don’t ask why, something about good luck,” He said, omitting the fact that the luck had been more for Brad’s sake than Wesley’s. “I’m guessing the booze run went well, considering this is a success,” Bradley said, nodding his head to the beat of the music and looking everywhere except Wes’ eyes.

Wesley took the bracelet and looked at it quizzically, turning it over in his hand. Something about it made him smile… probably the fact that this was exactly the kind of trinket he would pilfer from someone’s room if he saw it just laying around. A little happy memory to stow away in his growing stash of them. “Well, we could actually use this bit of luck soon, so it’s good timing.” Wesley was referring, of course, to the genius plan he had come up with in his pre-party nap dreams. Before Wes could reveal his fantastic plan to Bradley, he was distracted by the mention of the booze cruise. “Yeah, it was totally awesome! Sav and Erica are way more meddlesome than they look, cheeky little criminals, they are. Although… I think I made Erica mad at me by pretending to be her boyfriend in front of the cashier…” Wes mused with a bummed out shrug.

Confusion flashed across Brad’s face at the last bit. Did that have something to do with Erica and Griff’s dance earlier? Maybe that had been happening under his nose for longer than he’d realized. “Erica’s usually mad about something.” He didn’t want to dwell on how the thought of Wes and Erica dating hollowed him out and filled him back up with longing, a longing that seemed to steal all the words he wanted to say. He needed another drink.

“What’s the luck for?” Bradley asked, trying to steer his way back into safe, calm waters. Pranks, if that’s what Wes was referring to, had become their own language, the bonding that had brought them so close. Even if he couldn’t find the words right now, he could always talk about a way to stick it to the powers the be.

“Oh right!” Wesley exclaimed, gesturing with his drink excitably, sloshing it a bit in doing so. “If the narcolepsy is good for anything, it’s for the flashes of genius I get while I’m sleeping. SERIOUSLY, I almost slept through the party for this shit.” Wes stopped to lick the drips off the side of his cup and take a hefty gulp of his drink before he spilled more of the precious nectar in his excitement. “Anyywayyy, you know how we’ve been trying to figure out how to smuggle in spray paint?” Wes waited for confirmation before continuing.

The smile that spread across his face was pure instinct, brought on by Wes’ own excitement. It was infectious. He’d always felt like he was always meant to be looking at the canvas, capturing the colorful people of the world while he moved on in black and white. With Wes… every laugh showered him in the rarest pigments, and for a moment the monotone shades of gray faded. “Of course, it’s gonna be the best vandalism this place has ever seen,” Bradley said, spirits lifting as he spoke.

“Damn straight it will be.” Wes said and went to tap red solo cups in cheers with B-rad, only to find that his cup runneth empty. “Whoa, you ain’t got nothing in your cup, we gotta fix that first, c’mon.” He ushered his friend through the crowd of fellow students and over to the makeshift bar. “So here’s the thing…” Wes began, a crooked smirk complimenting the single eyebrow that raised as he revealed his plan. “What if we didn’t have to smuggle anything in at all?” Wes waited again, letting the dramatic suspense build.

Clear liquid, indistinguishable from water except for the tell tale thickness of liquor, filled Bradley’s cup, followed by a generous amount of sugary red juice. He nodded as Wes’ words fought through the haze of his mind and burst into the light of understanding, signalled by a drawn out, “Ohhhhhhhhhhh!” Bradley took a gulp of his drink, thankful for the new influx of alcohol, before continuing. “Wes, you’re a fucking genius! I could kiss you right now!” Oh. He hadn’t meant to say that last part. He hastily covered his mouth with his cup, taking another gulp as embarrassment and drunkenness turned his face redder and redder.

“Exactly!” Wesley exclaimed with a giggle and polished off the rest of the mixed drink in his own cup. He thought of Brad’s statement as nothing more than the shared excitement of the moment and began to mix himself another drink. The effects of the rum were already buzzing within him, making his blood feel warm and heavy. “There’s already spray paint here, in the school. No smuggling of contraband needed. There’s loads of it in the technology department, dude, we just gotta go get it.” The mischievous glint in Wesley’s eyes was nothing short of devilish as he smirked above the rim of his solo cup.

“We can go tonight, while everyone's here. If security should be concerned with anything, it’s this,” Bradley said, laughing softly. His eyes ran over Wesley’s frame then quickly glanced away. “Has Griff seemed off to you?” Bradley added, nerves pushing him further and further away from the conversation he needed to be having right now. The band around his wrist seemed to burn, as if trying to remind him of the promise he’d made.

“Griff’s always been a bit of an odd duck… but, yeah, he’s been pretty weird since getting out of the hospital.” Wesley shrugged, taking a sip of his freshly mixed rum and coke. “Maybe he’s still feeling a little off, musta been one helluva flu. And I guess it’s going around too, a couple of other kids got it, even Theo, and he’s tough as a bear.” Bringing the topic back to the mission at hand, Wesley pointed at Bradley with the index finger of the hand holding his cup. “But rewinding it back, you, my friend, are the real genius here! Tonight is the perfect night to go through with the heist! Both our friends AND the security should be distracted, it’s fucking perfect. It’s the most opportune moment, we have to seize it!” Wesley grabbed a small, almost flask-sized handle of vodka that he could easily stash away in his pocket from the counter. “What'd ya say? We head out now, with drinks for the road?” Wes smirked and shook the bottle for emphasis, causing the vodka to slosh back and forth inside.

Bradley grinned, and finished off his drink, certain he’d need the courage. It would just be him and Wes, doing what they did best; wreaking havoc. He could do this. “Hard to argue with that.” He looked around, cautious of any watchful eyes, pilfered his own miniature bottle, and slipped into the crowd. Just before they were cut off, Brad’s hand clutched Wesley’s tugging him along and out into the considerably cooler air of the dorm hallway. He let out a sigh of relief, and gestured towards the exit, glad to be free of the oppressive heat of the party. “Lead the way, partner in crime.”

Wesley snickered as Bradley tugged the pair of them out into the hallway. He had the small bottle of vodka in his pocket, but his plastic cup was still in his hand. A portion of the brown cocktail sloshed out of it, leaving a nice solid stain in the hallway to remember this night by later. “Shit!” He remarked, more so upset about the lost alcohol than the stained carpet, and ran along with Brad towards the exit. Time to break into the school and steal some property in order to vandalize some property. With the booze run already under his belt, how many more crimes could Wesley fit into one single friday? Only time would tell…

Project Untamed

_{Location | Wesley’s Room → The Party}

Wesley could not believe that they’d actually done it! The Booze Cruise had gone off without a hitch and Wes was still riding off the high of getting away with something so criminal. This was rule breaking to the extreme, more so than any of the pranks and mischief that he, Bradley, and Griff could cook up. Today, Wesley Slater broke the law… which was kind of concerning, considering that he was planning to study law and become a lawyer. But, maybe that made him an even better candidate for the job. A ton of people in law and law enforcement are actually criminals themselves, right?

With the alcohol properly secured, the van parked, the keys placed back where they were found, and the trio able to sneak into the dorms with their ill-gotten gains, the party plan was successfully in motion. Wesley brought his filled-to-the-brim backpack to the lounge and unloaded the alcohol, leaving Savannah and Erica to finish up with the party prep. It was their party, after all. He just pitched in his money, backpack, phenomenal acting skills, and, of course, invited damned near their entire class. The last job he had was to get himself ready.

Back in his room, Wes started with a shower to wash away the dried anxiety sweats from his silent mental spiral in the van on the way to the liquor store. He might have played the situation like the charming trickster that he was, but that didn’t mean that he never got nervous! Wesley had his music playing as he showered, dancing to the beats and scrubbing his hair in time, looking forward to all of the shenanigans that a night of drunken revelry might hold.

Once squeaky clean, Wesley made the first critical mistake of his evening. Clad in naught but a fuzzy white bath towel wrapped around his waist, he plopped down on his bed to relax and scroll through his phone. The scrolling slowed as his eyelids grew heavy from the combination of his post-excitement crash, the warmth of his shower, and good-old fashioned narcolepsy. He passed out within minutes and slept for a couple of hours. It wasn’t until the volume of the music from the party increased enough that the thumping bass vibrated his walls that Wesley awoke and realized his error.

“SHIT!” Wesley exclaimed, jumping out of bed and causing his towel to drop in the process. “Shit shit shit!” He continued as he stood naked in the center of his room, his hair having dried into the most ridiculous nest of curls from laying down and falling asleep with it wet. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes he zipped over to his closet to find an appropriate party outfit to throw on and hopefully distract from his otherwise disheveled appearance. The next step was to make a second trip to the bathroom to try to salvage his hairstyle. Wetting his hair down and running his fingers through the curls succeeded in keeping them from defying gravity by sticking straight up, but it left him looking a bit like a drowned rat because of how much water was needed to tame them.

“Whatever…” he mumbled in a disgruntled tone before grabbing his phone, wallet, and keys to head down the hall. The party, as he expected, was already in full swing. A couple of his classmates looked like they had even already had their fair share of alcohol, which caused a momentary flash of panic. His Captain! Good lord, please don’t let the rum be gone! Before even looking for his besties, Wes beelined for the beverage station to prepare himself a drink. Thankfully, there was still about three quarters of the Captain Morgan left, and Wesley sighed in relief as he mixed a rum and coke, heavy on the rum, as it seemed he had some catching up to do. Looking around the crowded common area, he sought out his friends and found both Griffin and Bradley chatting. Perfect! He made his way over to them to start off his night on a better foot, hopefully.

Meadow University

♪♫♪♫

To be totally honest, a bar like Nectar’s wasn’t Shiloh’s ideal party spot, but there weren’t many better options locally. While Vermont as a whole is a pretty liberal state, Meadow View in particular tended to be more… traditional (most likely due to the Ivy League presence) and it therefore was not very rich in LGBTQ+ spaces. Seriously, not a single gay club to be found. Regardless, Shiloh was a proud, powerful lesbian with the blood of rockstars in her veins and she could bring the party to almost any venue — including a karaoke bar with it’s highlighting feature being buy one get one appetizers. Shiloh Clay could make Nectar’s work for her purposes, she’d beaten way harder levels than this before, and maybe, just maybe, this time the princess wouldn’t be in another damned castle.

“That’s thoughtful, Theo,” She responded to her bestie as he returned to Connor, Maddie, and herself with a pitcher of beer and four glasses. “But you know beer makes me feel bloated. I’m on a strict diet of clear liquids and powders tonight.” Vodka, tequila, gin… so many options! “Speaking of…” The pink-haired temptress fished around in her clutch and discreetly pulled out a baggie of colorful pills stamped with alien heads, hearts, stars, and various other emoji-like shapes. “Party favors, anyone?”

Shiloh offered a cheshire cat grin when Maddie showed interest. She might be a college girl now, but she was still every bit as much of a bad influence on her friends now as she was in high school. “Ooh, you’re gonna love it, Mads. It makes you free and bold and ready to be touched. Touching feels like magic.” Shiloh had already taken a dose for herself before offering up some to the others. Once her benevolent deed was done, she bowed to bid them farewell. “Theo, since you aren’t partaking, I trust you will keep me from doing something too stupid, like getting on that stage and doing my best impression of Hayley Williams.” She stared off in thought for a moment, “Actually, that might work for me. Whatever. Watch my back, I’m gonna go try to find a girlfriend.” Hopefully one that lasts for more than one bi-curious night this time, but who knows, old habits die hard.

The ecstasy in her system began to work it’s magic relatively quickly. Her tolerance was high, but her frame was small so it didn’t take too much or too long to get lifted. Shiloh watched as the warm lighting of the bar blurred and began to dance like stars in her eyes. Letting the music take her, she spun around the dancefloor chasing those stars. Everything was moving to the beat and the lovely notes of a songbird. Shiloh’s gaze broke from her amphetamine-induced astronomical studies long enough to take in the pretty bird, a girl whose name she didn’t catch but whose face she recognized from school. The songbird wore a crop top and jeans, which bared a smooth flat tummy that practically begged for body shots… and licking.

Shi giggled at her own dirty thoughts before making her way to the bar for some liquid courage. She didn’t need any extra boldness, but it was still fun to partake, and maybe it would help her learn the songbird’s name later. “A shot of Patrón, please. Actually, make it a double. Saves us both a trip.” Shi requested of the bartender with a smile. Glancing back out to the intimately crowded bar, she tried to blink away the stars as she waited for her drink. A few blinks confirmed that it wasn’t the drugs, something shiny had actually caught the lights. Tiny bits of metal reflecting like a disco ball. Squinting, Shi took in a cute asian girl wearing… a spiked red leather jacket?

Was she hallucinating?! Nah, this was X, not acid.

Shiloh glanced down at her own jacket and then back at the mystery girl. She was talking to Cassian Lee, but it didn’t look entirely friendly. Definitely not flirty, well, probably not. You could never tell with that one. The bartender returned with the tall shot glass of tequila as Shiloh pondered. “Oh, thanks.” Back to staring. Okay… so was she just punk… or gay… or both? Both was pretty common, she was both herself, after all. “Well, only one way to find out.” Shi said aloud before downing the shot, placing the glass upside down on the bar, and strutting towards the girl with the jacket.

Project Untamed

_{Collab with @NeoAJ & @smarty0114}

The roads of New Mexico were bumpier than Savannah remembered. She wouldn’t have thought there was so much traffic that it would have resulted in such a sorry state of affairs on their roads. But the constant bumps of the “borrowed” van into potholes proved otherwise.

Maybe she would feel a little better if she was driving, but she hadn’t driven anything in a while. Not since she left Stillwater, however long that was ago. It seemed like it was forever, when in reality it was what? Four months? Still, the van was a manual transmission, and she definitely had no skill for that. She wasn’t one of the farm kids who knew how to drive tractors by the time she was 12. She drove a beat-up Civic, and that sucker was automatic. This van was a far cry from that little coupe.

It was serving its purpose though. It was ferrying this three-person expedition off to the promised land that Erica had foretold of. The gas station on the main highway was no heaven, but it held the promise of manna from the gods themselves. More importantly, it offered the promise of Savannah’s salvation from her hubris earlier in the week. If Erica’s intel was correct, there would be enough booze to cover Sav’s blushes in the cafeteria and then some. Plus, now that the Texan was rocking a full array of ammunition for the mission, thanks to her scavenger hunt victory and the agreement of both Wesley and Talya that all their proceeds would go towards the party. The party that apparently EVERYONE AT SCHOOL knew about now. So no pressure or anything.

Besides, it wasn’t Savannah that had to go in there and be all cool under the circumstances. That was Kelsey Marston’s job.

She leaned to her left and addressed the driver. “Hey, so… where are we? I definitely don’t recognize that cactus… or anything really…”

“It’s cause we were coming the other way,” Erica said, gently pressing her foot into the clutch and shifting up a gear, then picking up speed. Her dad had taught her to drive stick last summer, and amidst Erica’s screams of frustrations, they actually managed to have a father-daughter bonding moment. It was a good thing he had too, because neither Wes or Sav could drive stick. “If I’m right about where we are, it should be coming up on our right in a few minutes.”

Erica’s eyes looked out on the barren desert, wishing the AC in this van worked just a bit better. She had yet to hear just how many people were coming to the party tonight, having been more concerned with getting alcohol and passing her chemistry test.

Finding the key to the school van just laying on a table in the library had been a stroke of good luck. After the catastrophe that was the scavenger hunt, Erica felt like she deserved some good karma, and the key only made her more sure that tonight would go off without a hitch. The universe wanted this party to happen.

The backseat of the van was probably the worst place to be. Every bump and pothole jolted Wes towards the roof and he’d gotten a couple of whacks on his head already to show for it. Being tall could be such a curse. Or perhaps it was just Erica’s driving. Or the road condition. Or the fact that he opted out of wearing his seatbelt. If you're riding in a stolen vehicle, what’s the point of following any other laws? Seatbelts were restrictive and Wesley Slater absolutely hated sitting still. Plus, thanks to repeated memory wipes, he couldn’t really remember those videos he was forced to watch in school where the kid not wearing his seatbelt becomes a projectile and kills all of his other friends in the car. Brutal.

“So…” Wesley leaned forward between the two girls, propping his lanky arms around the backs of their seats as he spoke. “You’ve both already proven that you guys got that femme fatale Charlie’s Angels thing going on with the whole van theft, but, what’s the plan now?”

“Because, let’s be honest,” Wes looked over to Savannah, eyeing up her pink hair in particular. “You’ll totally get clocked for your age with that punk dye, and I look like I belong in Twinks Gone Wild, so I’m assuming Erica is going to be doing the buying?” Wes’ brows furrowed at how casually he referred to himself as a twink. He meant to point out his babyface, but somehow this other brand of self-degradation came more naturally. It probably didn’t mean anything. Probably.

Savannah was going to ask Wes what the heck he meant by a twink, but there would be time for those sorts of questions later. “Hey, you don’t think I asked you for your grand prize without an idea of how this was going to work, did you?” she responded with an eyebrow raise of her own. “And for your info, this plan involves me doing the buying and you coming to help carry all our booze with that big ole backpack of yours. You know, like a proper gentleman and all.” She punctuated that last remark with a wink. “All you have to remember is that until that booze is back in the van, my name is Kelsey. Got that? Kelsey. And we are three grads travelling from Oklahoma to visit some friends at Arizona State for the weekend.”

It should have been shocking to Savannah how easy it was to fall into this mindset of blatant lying in order to facilitate more law-breaking. Truth be told, she could only remember being in a place that sold alcohol once, when she was 12. Her momma went in to buy some back up wine for a party and had Sav follow around before standing at the checkout waiting for the purchase to be made. There were no enticements to break the law back then. Now she was going to go full out and lead an entire class down a road of debauchery.

It was kinda fun really. Why hadn’t she done this before? Right, the moral quandaries and risk/reward factors and the Jesus. Right. Ah well. It’ll be over soon.

“We should probably save a little bit of credit card money to buy some mix and snacks and junk too, right?”

“Definitely. I don’t know about you two, but I’ll die if I spend the whole night drinking nothing but straight liquor,” Erica replied, impressed by how readily Sav was taking charge. It soothed the pit in her stomach that had been expanding rapidly as they sped down the road. She’d done this sort of thing before, back in New York and she recognized the anxiety from memories, that unique sort of panic over the possibility of getting arrested. Whatever she felt inside, she kept her face calm.

“Alright ‘Kelsey’, get ready,” Erica said. Taking a deep breath, she slowed down, downshifting and turning the van into the parking lot somewhat faster than she intended to. She heard Wes thud against the side of the van and called out her apologies. “My bad!” Oof. Maybe her driving could use a bit more practice.

The thump was followed by a grunt. “Eh, s’okay. I’m just getting a headstart on tomorrow’s inevitable hangover headache.” Wesley replied with a laugh as the vehicle finally reached their destination. Ah, the smooth relaxation of a parked vehicle, not a pothole or sharp turn in sight.

“Okay… so you’re Kelsey and we’re… nobody. Just a bunch of college friends. We got this.” Wes gave himself a pep talk as he hopped out of the back seat and onto the asphalt, shutting the car door behind him. He waited for ‘Kelsey’ to take the lead and followed after her. He did his best to be nonchalant, arms loose and relaxed, his hands in the pockets of his unzipped hoodie. The backpack was left in the van, he could pack that up full on the drive back.

A bell jingled above the door as the trio entered the trio entered the liquor store. Wesley briefly scanned the signs marking the aisles before choosing one to walk towards. “Rum?” He asked the others before committing to that direction.

Sa… “Kelsey” grabbed one of the little carts that were stacked by the doorway. No sense pretending they weren’t bringing a haul through the checkout. Go big or go home, right? Her scavenger hunt teammate was proving just as adept at finding the prime spirits as well as puzzle pieces.

She gave an approving nod. “Rum is a good idea. The sorority sisters will be pleased,” she added, getting right into character now. The key was immersing herself, shoving Savannah far from her mind at the moment. Kelsey had to get everything she needed for this party here because they were banned from all the shops in Tempe for various drunken infractions, and this was better than loading up in Oklahoma because this way they only had to stop once. Erica was her fellow sister and Wesley was the new boyfriend Kelsey was bringing to show off at the party and… OK, things were getting a little much. Wesley as her boyfriend? Couldn’t happen.

“Keep an eye out for some Hpnotiq. That’s Lyndsey’s favorite. She’ll flip if we don’t show up with some,” she informed the others. While searching through the choices, she lifted a cheap bottle of vodka which would serve their purpose well enough.

Erica trailed behind the other two, pocketing the keys to the van. She flashed the guy behind the counter a grin that he returned. Something about him rang a bell in her head… strange. She wasn’t used to reaching for a memory only to come up empty. She remembered everything! Turning away, she narrowed her eyes but kept quiet. It was probably nothing.

While “Kelsey” grabbed some cheap vodka and Wesley went for the rum, Erica craned her neck over the shelves, in search of the pastel bottles that she knew ment Hpnotiq. For a second, she wrote it off as an impossibility, figuring this place wouldn’t have anything your local hick couldn’t buy, but just as she was gonna give up, her eyes landed on a row of blue bottles. Perfect.

She sidled past Sav and Wes, and grabbed the bottle out of the fridge, holding it up as a trophy for her friends. “This should keep Lyndsey happy,” she said, taking more pleasure in playing along with Savannah's story than she’d expected.

These two girls kept surprising Wesley, Erica especially. Looking at someone like Savannah, you kind of expect her to have a few secrets and tricks up her sleeve. But Erica? She was the kind of girl you would expect to be valedictorian. Turns out he was instead surrounded by car thieves and filthy rotten liars. It was kind of sexy. Well... intriguing, at least. It just goes to show that you can’t always believe what's on the label.

Speaking of labels, Wesley scanned the variety of rum options on the shelves. He figured quantity was more important than quality for their situation, but at the same time, he was flipping some of this bill, so he should treat himself. Clearly Lyndsey was. Wes grabbed a small bottle of Captain Morgan spiced rum for his enjoyment and a couple of lower shelf bottles for the masses. He couldn’t remember the last time he had drank, but he was pretty sure that rum and cokes were his go to favorite.

“Hey, do you think Mikey is still obsessed with Jägerbombs, or has he finally outgrown them?” Wes asked the girls once he regrouped. He was trying to think of what kind of drinks Leo and the other hooligans might be into. Wes couldn’t stand the taste of Jäger himself, but there were usually a handful of people who wanted that at parties.

“Ugh!” “Kelsey” moaned in anguish at the mention of Wes’ alter-ego friend. “Let’s hope Ariana has outgrown him! Better get some just in case though.” This was fun. It was nice that her companions were playing along with everything. Plus, it had to help sell the story to the clerk. Other kids coming in would probably be stiff as anything, and petrified of getting caught. The way they were playing off each other, it had to be at least mostly believable.

Savannah could barely hide her excitement seeing Erica come up with the fabled blue bottle she had heard so much about. This was going to be hers for the evening, even if it did end up tasting bad. She would drink her mistake in that case. “Should we get some beers or ciders or anything? In case someone wants to play flip cup?” Flip cup was a game she had heard of before. That had to be a thing played at universities.

“Oh, good call,” Erica said, placing the Hpnotiq in Sav’s cart before turning around and grabbing two racks of Corona’s. She handed one off to Wes, and then replaced it with a large bag of solo cups that ended up snuggled next to the Hpnotiq. “And, last but not least, mixers!”

Erica led them over to the non-alcoholic drinks, where a variety of two liter bottles filled with juices and sodas were lined up. With her free hand, she passed down two bottles of Coke, for the rum, a lemonade for the vodka, and some fruit punch for a bowl of jungle juice. “We all set?”

Wesley added a case of Red Bulls to the pile of mixers and assessed their collection. Hopefully this was enough, because he was pretty sure that they were tipping pretty close to the edge of their budget. “Yeah, I think so. Besides like snacks, which I guess we’ll have to get somewhere else. Unless you guys already got that covered.” At the very least, food wasn’t really contraband, so they could easily buy them at the school store later.

Savannah offered a shrug. “We can run around to the gas station section to see what they got. If not, we can grab food once we get to campus. This is the important stuff.” A few packs of coolers hit the cart to balance things out but that would likely be all they would need. It was a bunch of high schoolers after all. One cooler would probably be enough for Hana. But no one would be getting anything if they were stopped at the checkout.

As “Kelsey” brought their wares to the counter, she motioned for the other two to back off for the moment. The less people present to ask questions the better. “Howdy,” she offered in her best Oklahoman accent, which sounded like her regular one but rougher. “Sorry ta make you work for this sale. Gotta lot here.”

“Ain’t got nothin’ better to do,” the clerk replied, shooting Savannah a white toothed grin. His eyes lingered on her, before flashing to Erica and Wes, sizing them up almost. The hair on Erica’s arm bristled, but she kept her cool. Just, keep smiling.

“Y’all go to school around here?” the clerk asked, in between computerized beeps from behind the counter.

“Nah, just passing through,” “Kelsey” confirmed. “Gonna surprise some friends with a right proper engagement shower. Just hope it don’t give some other people ideas, amirite? Can’t afford too many blenders this summer!” That seemed like a good enough reason to make the trip from dang near Arkansas through New Mexico to Arizona. She nodded back at Erica and Wes during that last bit. If nothing else, the clerk could draw his own opinions on who that was referring to.

“Well, your friends are lucky. From the looks of it, they’re in for a damn good time,” he said, smirking as he scanned the Hypnotiq. “You got an ID lil miss pink hair? Needa birthday to put into this bad boy,” he said, gesturing to the monitor that rested behind the counter.

While Savannah searched for her fake ID, Wes continued on with their charade. He put his arm around Erica's shoulders with a dumb grin and said, “I don't know, whadya think, babe? Should we get hitched and make Kels buy another blender? I mean, we'd probably be worth a full on KitchenAid mixer, two best friends in one and all that.”

Erica’s eyes widened as she felt Wes’ arm swing around her shoulder, but her grin remained steady as ever. She swung her own arm around him, squeezing them together harder than was probably necessary. “You know I’m just waiting on you to buy the ring, babe,” Erica said, doing her very best to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Her very best, wasn’t quite good enough.

“Calm down back there!” “Kelsey” shouted as she rummaged through her person for the wallet that contained the credit cards and Kelsey’s ID. “I ain’t made of mixers either! And I ain’t drivin’ anymore after whatcha pulled outside’a Weatherford!” She produced the Oklahoma license that she still had no idea how she acquired. But the pink hair matched the tone of the scowling picture and the date of Dec. 7, 2013 should be good enough for the clerk’s needs. “Sorry ‘bout the lovebirds. They do not know how to keep the PDAs to a minimum, ya know?”

The man behind the counter smiled, Erica wasn’t actually sure he’d ever stopped in the first place, and took a quick look at “Kelsey’s” ID. He punched her birthday in, and then directed her to the credit card kiosk on the counter. “Looks like two hundred in damages for ya,” he said.

Savannah breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t have to dig into her personal account just yet. Maybe for snacks, but who knew if they needed to go heavy on those. “I can take the hit. Let me swipe these through,” “Kelsey” swiped the three gift cards the school had offered one-by-one, the first two being rendered useless afterwards but the third one showing $25 remaining. “Think the fine folks at VISA gotcha covered there, sir!” As the cash register dinged open, “Kelsey” motioned for Erica and Wesley to come grab their illicit gains.

Wesley did his best to carry the majority of the items, as a gentleman should. But by the arm strength of Erica’s unnecessarily tight squeeze, he was beginning to think she might be an even heavier lifter than him. “Thanks man, have a good’un.” He said to the smiley clerk before making his way towards the door.

Erica grabbed a rack, and a bag of clinking bottles, and followed Wes and Sav out to the car. “So, on a scale of 1-10, how necessary was it that Wes and I pretend to be a couple?” she asked, shooting Wes her classic side eye as the door swung shut behind her.

“Hey, I didn’t say nothin’,” “Kelsey” confirmed as she carried what the other two didn’t along with her repatriated fake ID and other belongings. “What y’all do on your time is on you.”

As the trio got their newly-acquired arsenal of booze to the van, “Kelsey” dropped her cargo into the back seat and Savannah breathed a huge sigh of relief. Her eyes were closed and her arms were shaking a little bit as the adrenaline from her dabbling in fraud and illegal activity was starting to wear off, pushing her back into her regular state. “But I’m glad we got through that. Good work, team. Mission accomplished.”

“Aw, c’mon, I was just getting into character!” Wes said in defense. Why was she so mad about it? “Was it because I touched your shoulder? Man, I’m sorry, I realized like half way through that was probably a bad idea because some people don’t like being touched but at point I had already committed and it’d look weird if I stopped.” The rambling intensified.

Erica rolled her eyes. He really hadn’t figured it out yet. “No… well yes, but, you know, I just think there are… other people who would prefer to be your fake boyfriend.” She heard the fuck up as soon as it rolled off her tongue. “Or girlfriend.” Shittiest save ever.

Savannah was looking back and forth between the two but was just getting confused at this point. Granted, she didn’t know Wesley that well prior to the hunt, but Erica was still acting a little weird about the whole thing. Plus the whole boyfriend remark… Was Wesley…? No. Couldn’t be. He seemed too macho for that. “Hey, you two did great, that was what mattered. I don’t know if the clerk knew or cared or whatever, but you sold it, and we got the goods. That was the important thing.”

Wes’ eyebrows stitched together from the backseat in response to Erica’s comment. It was enough to give him pause as he was shoving bottles of liquor into his large hiking backpack. Someone wanted to be his boyfriend? Was that just a slip of the tongue? Oh man, was it Theo?? Maybe that’s what the whole shirt thing was about… Thankfully, Savannah spoke up and stopped his head from spinning. “Yeah, we did it! And tonight’s gonna be a banger.” He said happily, squeezing his thoughts down into the backpack between the bottles of vodka and rum.

Project Untamed

_{Location | Guidance Office
Feat. NPC | Dr. Grace Ann Morris}

Dr. Morris took the few moments that she had between appointments to organize her notes. Being the sole student-facing psychologist of the San Agustin experiment could be exhausting at times, especially given the size of her heart. Grace had chosen psychological counseling as a profession purely because of this trait, and her too-big heart was the very reason that she was selected to act as the ‘school guidance counselor’ for the subjects of Project Untamed. Dr. Morris acts as a safety net for the teenage subjects, caring deeply for their wellbeing and monitoring them to ensure that they are never pushed too far for the scientific advances that the other doctors hoped to achieve in this experiment. Simply put, this study relied on Grace’s educational background and sound morality as an insurance policy to keep the students safe. If there was a big red button that could put a stop to this whole thing, it was Dr. Morris’ hand that hovered over it.

Filing away the previous student’s records, Dr. Morris took a seat in the chair sitting across from the sofa in her office. She was awaiting the arrival of Subject #2, Wesley Slater. He was assigned this number as he was one of the first subjects selected for the study — volunteered by his own father, a close work associate of Drs. Wayman and Hagerty. For this reason, Grace felt deeply for Wesley, even if he no longer had any idea of the real reason why he was here. As a mother of two, Grace could never imagine sending away one of her babies simply because they were different from what she expected them to be. Thankfully, she could be here for Wesley and root for him when no one else might.

Wesley was one of the students that Dr. Morris had weekly therapy sessions with. Their appointments were disguised as guidance office visits to discuss his plans for the future, as he expressed interest in going to college to study law, but also to check in on his diagnosed ‘narcolepsy’. In reality, these sessions were mandatory because of Wesley’s psychological condition and tendencies towards self-harm prior to the experiment. It was Dr. Morris’ job to ensure that he remained healthy and on course for the study and did not have any harmful relapses. In the event that he does have such a relapse, he would be brought in for the proper care and treatment, but so far, so good.

Subject #2 arrived in his usual manner, looking like he had just outrun the highway patrol. Huffing and disheveled, he took a seat on the sofa across from her. The left side. It was always interesting to note when students would choose right, left, or center. They almost always picked a preference and stuck with it. “Sorry I’m late, Grace.” He apologized, using her first name as Dr. Morris had offered for him to do once she realized that referring to anyone as “Doctor” made Wesley visibly uncomfortable — a trauma from his past that the scientists were unfortunately unable to overwrite.

“Actually,” Dr. Morris raised her hand up to glance at her rose gold wristwatch. “According to my watch, you’re one minute early. That’s a record, Wesley.” Grace offered him a warm smile as she reached for her notebook and pen off of the end table beside her. “How are things going? I heard your team won first place in the scavenger hunt, congratulations.”

“Hell yeah, we did!” Subject #2 replied excitedly, but his expression quickly changed to one of concern. “Err— sorry about cursing, Ms. Morris.” Wesley apologized, ever the polite and charming kid. Although Grace disagreed with his parenting on many levels, Dr. Slater did raise a wonderful son that would hopefully grow to be a much better man than his father.

“That’s quite alright, you sound excited, I get it.” Grace assured him. It wasn’t her job or place to police the language of the students, her office was a safe space for them to speak freely. “How were your teammates? Anyone in particular that lead the way to your victory?” Dr. Morris asked, her pen poised to begin taking notes.

“Uh…” Wesley looked towards the ceiling as he appeared to be in deep thought. “I guess if there was a leader, it was me. But like, we all helped. Couldn’t have done it without them. Talya and Sav seem pretty cool, it was good to get to know them. I might not’ve otherwise.”

“That’s good to hear, most students wished they could have picked their teams—” Dr. Morris began to state but was soon cut off.

“Well yeah, I thought that too at first. But I guess I can see why it was random, that way it wasn’t a popularity contest or whatever that could make people feel bad.” Wesley said and began to fidget in his seat. He never was good at sitting still for very long, unless of course he fell asleep, which had happened during one of their previous sessions.

“Exactly, you’re sharp, Wesley.” Grace complimented his astute observation. She made a note of his continued awareness and empathy in her notebook. “Just for the fun of it, who would you have picked for your team?” She asked, pen poised to take notes once again.

“Bradley and Griff, no doubt.”

“Bradley Barron and Griffin Pierce? Are they your friends?”

“Yup!” Wesley confirmed without much thought.

In a sudden surge of curiosity to test how deep the psychological overwrite of the study ran, Dr. Morris pressed dangerously further. “Just friends?” She asked, letting the not-so-subtle implication linger for a few tense moments.

Wesley’s fidgeting increased and his discomfort became readily apparent. He stopped toying with a loose string on the arm of the sofa and looked at her as if she had grown a second head. She realized that his change in demeanor wasn’t denial, he looked genuinely confused at her question. “... yeah?” Wes once again hyper focused on the loose string and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “I mean I guess we’re like best friends. Well, as best as you can get only having known each other for a few weeks.”

“That’s great, I’m glad to hear that you have found some close friends already.” Her once warm and genuine smile seemed a little forced as she responded, despite the honesty of her words. She was happy that Wesley found people that he could call best friends. It was the fact that she was jotting notes for his file that the experiment seemed to have completely overwritten his sexuality that had her feeling… corrupt. Sometimes this job just broke her heart, but she had to stick through it, for the students’ sake. She was their only true advocate here.