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In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@LovelyComplex & @Aces Away

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Before the boys could dive into that conversation, the dynamite of the serpent trio noticed something odd and his eyes widened all of a sudden, “What are we doing at the doctor’s house?”

“I guess I never did introduce myself.” Putting the car in park, the girl gave a charming and prideful grin. Her calculative stare went from Ransom then to the two brothers in a matter of seconds. Though… those seconds felt much longer with how mischievous her eyes were. “I’m Autumn. Autumn Sinclair.”

For the second time this night, Ransom’s face paled. They’d run from the scene of a crime with the Doctor’s daughter. He turned harshly in his seat to stare at Molotov, aware that the private moment was over with the arrival of this new information. His soul brother’s face had likewise drained of all color in surprise, and he looked from Ransom to TNT and then let his eyes land on the house.

“You’re…the Doctor’s daughter,” Ransom laughed humorlessly. “Well shit, okay. At least he can take care’a yer wrist. I’m Ransom, that Molotov ‘n’ TNT in the back,” he gave in to the flow of the night, utterly exhausted with the fast paced chain of events and just wishing they had brought Dutchess along with them, despite how much she bitches when they drink hard. He thought about eating pie in the Doctor’s kitchen and almost giggled hysterically. “Is yer dad home?”

“Oh no. Daddy’s rarely home around this time. But my bro is… and hopefully he’s sleeping.” Hoping out of the car, twirling TNT’s keys around her finger, she waited for the boys expectantly, “There’s two pies calling your names. Trust me, you won’t regret it. Carrie bakes amazing. I’m surprised I’m not fat.”

Chase had visited this house for a variety of deliveries and now that he thought about it, he even visited this house for R2… well, the Doc did have an operation going on for the serpents so maybe it was payment or something. It wasn’t like the Doc was one of them. He was a good guy. He wanted to offer those who couldn’t afford health insurance free care. It was admirable, really. “I fucking did that shit. I saved Doc’s daughter. I need a medal for that. Don't get any luckier than that.”

“Yes you did, we’re very proud. You’re gettin’ pie and an iced face as a reward,” Molotov praised.

“Soooooo… you guys coming?”

“Yeah, yeah we’re comin’,” Ransom answered, throwing the door open and following behind her as the two in the back seat moved to follow. “‘S a nice place,” He commented idly as they arrived at the door, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I mean yeah, my dad’s a doctor. I’d hope he’d own something decent,” Little did Autumn know her father owned other assets throughout the town. Little did anyone know. After unlocking the door, she tossed her clutch on the console in the hallway, similar to how her mother used to, right in the large porcelain white bowl. Looking over her shoulder, making sure the three stooges were following her, she smiled. Good.

Following the young girl, while being coddled by his brother, TNT observed his surroundings. It was minimalist in decor, modern, and white. Extremely white. It was airy and tranquil, but pretty simple in style. Jeez, even at night this place looked hella’ spacious and bright. Everything was freakishly organized, clean, and clear. Did anyone actually live here? When they reached the kitchen there was a sigh of relief from TNT. Finally some life and color. While still inspired by a clean aesthetic, it was obvious one of the children took over, adding Disney appliances and some. Hell, there was a Mickey Popcorn Machine and a Mickey Waffle Iron. Someone in this house must really like Disney. “Hey Ratatouille hand towels… cute.”

“Yeah, Carrie loves Disney and she spends the most time here so dad kind of lets her do what she wants,” Once she observed the boys for a moment or two she gestured to an archway that led to the living room. “Go through there and take a right. The bathroom should be the last door to the left.”

“Did he just call cartoon rat rags cute?” Ransom asked, flinching when Tov punched him in the arm.

“They are cute,” he replied with a bit of forced cheer as he looked around the kitchen curiously. Tonight’s events had him worn out and ready for a nap, but the promise of putting something sweet into his stomach had him willing to extend the night a little, especially if he could take care of Chase faster than the time it would have taken them to get home. He grabbed his brother’s hand and led him to the bathroom while Ransom stayed behind with Autumn.

While Tov took TNT away to fix him up, Ransom hopped up to sit on an empty part of the counter, feeling like a bull in a china shop as he looked around the clean and organized kitchen. He never understood how people could live in houses that were kept so meticulously clean. Him and Dolce were rarely home, always out running errands, collections, or repos for the Serpents. Their apartment wasn’t messy, but it definitely showed that people actually lived there; there were always a couple dishes in the sink, their carpet was threadbare from years of activity and the curtains hung at an angle from all the times their two pitbulls Loki and Boomer had torn it down while playing. This place seemed…devoid of life aside from the kitchen, which was only saved from the rest of the house’s fate due to the Disney shit. What the fuck even was a Rat-a-twoie?

“So,” He started casually, trying to think of something to say to the girl that got caught up in the whirlwind of the three serpents activity. “Yer a helluva getaway driver.”

“My brother’s better,” Autumn shrugged as she took two pies out of the fridge. “He’s the reason I know how to drive. Our whole mom’s side are gearheads. Live and breathe cars.” Once she placed the two pies on the island, she fetched plates and utensils, “Been to a race before? Whenever we visit my cousin AJ, he always knows where they’re happening. They’re really fun. Niles raced a few a couple of times.”

Returning to Ransom’s side, placing the things she’s gathered down, she pointed to the first pie with a fork, “That’s Banoffee. Some Brit pie. Think - a better version of banana cream but with toffee, coffee, and chocolate. It also has a biscuit base.” From there she gestured to the next pie, “And that’s Mississippi Mud Pie. Chocolate cake, whipped cream, buttery chocolate graham crackers. Both: delicious.”

“Well shit, those look fuckin’ amazin’,” Ransom replied, using his less bloody hand to pick up a fork and go for the more familiar of the two. He could wash his hands later, food was calling him. He’d just taken his first bite when the first part of her response registered and he almost choked on the fork. Covering it up with a small cough, he looked over to the brunette and asked. “Did’ya just say Niles Sinclair has gone drag racin’? Rye’s Niles? Puff’s Niles?”

“There’s a lot about my brother that you don’t know,” Autumn mused as she cut her own piece of pie. “Like the fact that he is a dumbass and still very much into Natalia. I’m assuming that’s Puff, right? I feel like I’ve heard someone say that to her once.” Leaning against the island, she took a piece of the Banoffee and savored it in her mouth. “He was a fucking vandal growing up. He did some stupid shit that he made me swore to never tell dad. When our mom died, a lot changed. Like this house. Used to have a lot more life and color. Like blue. She loved blue. Town seemed to forget she even fucking existed and Niles was in the hospital at least every six months.”

“Autie…” Carolyn peeped her head from the door in her Monsters Inc Sulley shirt and matching shorts. Her eyes widened when she saw a stranger sitting there eating her pie. “Oh sorry! You have company. I’ll just…” She tried to scurry away before Autumn clicked her tongue, which was her way of telling her sister it was okay. That Ransom wasn’t bad. The naive one of the two shuffled with her Mike Wazowski slippers, wondering if she was even appropriately dressed for this boy she did not know, “Hello…” She took a seat across from the boy and began fiddling with her fingers, “Do you like it?” Her eyes went from the pie to him.

Ransom was well aware that the information he just received was not common knowledge. Nothing about tonight was common though, aside from his and Tov’s drinking of course. If you’d told him yesterday that he would be sitting on some counter in bougie Northie at four in the morning, eating pie while talking to the daughters of the Doctor, he would have laughed and told you to fuck off, he wasn’t drunk enough to believe that. Yet here he was, learning things he shouldn’t be and put in the position of conversationalist while his brothers had their moment alone. The innocent blue eyes staring at him, waiting for an answer, had him swallowing nervously as he thought of trying to explain tonight’s events to Dutchess. He was definitely crashing with Tov and TNT tonight.

Absently. He remembered the blood on his hands and in his hair and wondered what it was about the children of the doctors that helped the serpents, that they just act like it’s an every day occurrence to have a bloody man sitting in your kitchen. Rye being that way when they first met, so blase in the face of blood or injury, had been one of the reasons most of the crew became fond of him, as they felt they could relax no matter their banged-up appearances. He got a similar vibe from these two, though their attitudes were completely different.

“Shit’s delicious,” He complimented, keeping his voice steady and thoughts to himself. Unlike her sister, the girl that walked in seemed...softer, more nervous. He shifted uncomfortably from his spot on the counter and looked away from the girl’s gaze. God, he sucked at delicate situations, and despite ignoring his current state the girl still looked like the type that would cry at one wrong word. “I think the last time I had a homemade pie was when my buddy Jokes got bored last year and took a week ta realize he was a shitty chef,” He took another bite and hummed. “Ya shoulda been ‘is teacher.”

“I can be, if he wants!” Carrie’s demeanor changed at the prospect of having something more to look forward to this lovely, long summer. Aside from dance classes with Danny Belmonte, she had already read all her books that were on her summer reading list and she kept up with cheer routines so she wouldn’t forget, since she and her sister would be senior Clovers this coming year. Occasionally, she went and spent time with Autumn and her friends but other than that, she was home most of the time. Baking. Painting. Stitching. Taking naps on the hammock!

There was a moment when Carolyn went in a daze realizing she didn’t have many friends. All her friends were Autumn’s. There was Winnie and Mallorie Phillips-Shomers but even then, Mallorie was busy dating Amaya Patel and a couple years younger than her and Winnie was constantly searching for ways to find herself. Usually that meant sleeping around and spending time with boys that didn’t give a damn about her. Bringing herself back, Carrie’s blank stare lit up once more and she had returned to a beaming smile, “I’d love for this house to have people again! It’s been so long. Maybe you guys could hit it off with Niles? He’s never had many friends.”

“Yeah, all he has is Rye right now. Is he asleep?” Autumn stuffed another piece of pie in her mouth.

“No, he never came home. Probably with Cece.”

“Yeah, shame. I thought giving Natalia an opportunity to sneak in not too long ago would help them rekindle what they had. I guess fucking not,” Autumn grumbled, dropping her fork on her plate. Turning around, she went to get herself a glass of milk, “Do you want some, Ransom?”

“Ransom? That’s your name?” Carrie confusingly blinked. Was that rude? Oh that was definitely rude. “It’s not a bad name! It’s different. Unique. Makes me think of Beauty and the Beast where the furniture people are named literally what they are. Cogsworth the clock. Mrs. Potts the tea pot. Chip the little tea cup with a chip on his rim. Lumière —”

“He gets it, Carrie.”

Ransom did indeed get it, despite having never watched the movie. He nodded to Autumn to indicate that he would appreciate a glass as well before turning his attention back to the suddenly energized girl. He tried not to think about next time he sees Jokes that he'll be bringing up Natalia's little visit to Niles. He didn't want to see that damned kicked puppy look he gets.

"I'll get you an' Jokes connected, you'll be savin' all the Serpents from burned cookies an' dry cakes. He gets in the mood ta try again every once in a while an' we all dread it." He took another bite of the pie, using the amazing flavor to wash away the memories of the monstrosities Jokes would make. The dude really should have stuck with making music instead of food. "While it'd be cool if my parents named me Ransom, that ain't my government name. Rye wasn't the only one that Boa slapped with a street name, him an' Sunshine got a hold of all of us 'fore we could choose our own. They just stuck. Molotov an' TNT are cleanin' up in the bathroom right now," he looked down at his almost empty plate and frowned, looking in the direction of the bathroom door. "Actually, they've been in there for a minute now…"

Molotov sat his little brother on the closed toilet seat and put his hands on either side of his bloodied face, thumbs resting near the broken part of his nose. “So,” He started before setting his nose quickly and without warning and casually carrying on with his sentence. “This girl, this Princess Peach, you been talkin’ to her long?” he asked, turning to rustle around under the sink for the first aid kit. Opening up, he gave an impressed hum at the fully stocked selections and pulled out few alcohol pads, a single use ice pack, a gauze pad and tape, and a few acetaminophen tablets. He set everything but the alcohol swabs on the sink counter before getting to work cleaning up his brother.

“‘Bout a month. I met her that night when buncha’ Boaz’s year was going to the old school’s gym.” The year right under his, Tov’s, and Ransom’s. Still, did it even count if they didn’t graduate? “I had picked her up with the Mayor’s favorite and well, it didn’t end well because I was already pissed and the way they talked pissed me off… Fin gave me a good slap in the head when I told her about it.”

Chase let his brother ‘mother-hen’ him as he sat down on the lid of the toilet. Carefully watching Tov, TNT deeply sighed, “So yeah, I felt like shit and whether it was dumb luck or some kind of fate, she needed a ride the next day. Took her to Dolly’s to apologize. It went… well. It was weird.” He still didn’t understand how their friendship went from that to him talking to her every single day, “Since then she’s like… always there? I don’t know how to explain it.”

Tov knew how to explain it. It had never been something he’d thought Chase would be interested in, but he was secretly ecstatic to see his brother falling for someone. Sure, it was sad as fuck that he couldn’t identify the feeling himself but that didn’t stop him from growing from it. He wasn’t going to bring it up-- he didn’t want to trigger his brother again by telling him that he was falling, and hard, harder than Tov off of the Lyon Park swings after his second bottle of liquor. The thought had his mind wandering to his own experience with a bright blonde at The Afterlife back in June, before the chaos of the letters reached its peak. Or at least its first peak, as he doubted that shit was over. He’d finally felt something too, something other than the insatiable need to drown his history before it could pull him under first. Then he’d lost her, too drunk to remember to ask for her number before she disappeared beneath the strobing lights and he got thrown out. He huffed out a soft laugh as he finished cleaning his brother’s face and grabbed the gauze and tape next, placing it gently over the bridge of TNT’s sluggishly bleeding nose.

“I like how you’ve been with her around,” Tov admitted, taping down each side of gauze before going to work on his busted lip. “I’ve caught you smilin’ a few times, and you seem like you’re here more often, y’know?” he asked. “It’s…been a while. I’m proud’a you.”

Chase didn’t know how to respond to that. Like sorry? Or that’s good, right? So instead he gave his brother an awkward thumbs up acknowledging that he did hear what he said before turning the conversation around, “What about you? When are you going to chill with the bottle? Does it actually make you feel better about yourself?”

Tov hesitated, bloody alcohol pad held aloft in the space between them as he looked to the side in shame, especially when the question itself made him want to grab the nearest bottle. Quietly, he answered, “‘S not about feelin’ better, T, it’s about forgetting what makes me feel like shit in the first place. I don’t like my memories, I wanna live in the moment and forget that everything’s fucked while I got no way to fix it.”

“Just don’t get stuck,” TNT advised, as he thought about Tiffannie and their conversation at the diner. “Don’t want dad to lose another one of us.” Conan wasn’t someone Chase brought up AT ALL but there he was looking at his big brother fiercely, his heart hanging on his neck in the form of a blue guitar pick, as if his little brother was there guiding him to do better. “We deserve to live, you hear? And I don’t mean in the moment. We have a future. We just gotta’ believe we do.”

Tov was frozen as he stared at the guitar pick, unable to look his brother in the eyes while tears sprung to his own. What the hell was happening? Hadn’t he just been trying to be positive for Chase? Wasn’t he the one doing the caring right now? How had his brother matured so much right under his nose? What was he doing that he was missing all of this?

’You know exactly what you’ve been doing,’ he thought to himself sounding too much like his late adoptive mother, Zippo. It reminded him of what she told him the first time he got drunk and Dolce and Shale got him back home. ’Ya always have time ta fix it, but only you can stop yourself. Yer hurtin’ yourself because ya think ya deserve it. You’ve gotta be the one ta decide ya don’t.’

He tossed the bloody swab into the trash bin and rested his arms across Chase’s knees, dropping his forehead across them as he hid his face in his brother’s lap. Unable to hold them back like he’d tried, Tov let the tears fall and soak into TNT’s jeans while he hid his face in shame.

This wasn’t what he wanted. TNT didn’t want to make his brother cry but it looked like he really needed it and ever since he got involved with Peach, well, tears became an everyday occurrence for him. Instead of saying anything, he let his brother use his lap as a tissue and placed his right hand on his head to comfort him. Sometimes silence was the best answer and it looked like they both needed this time together.

It’s been too long.

In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@LovelyComplex & @Aces Away


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Driving through the streets and finding his way to the tattoo parlor that Mei Ramsey worked at, TNT slowly pulled around it to follow his brother’s instructions the best he could. Molotov had told him he found some witch place which was surprising to the local Lyft driver because Chase knew just about everywhere in this town. Well, clearly, not everywhere.

With his windows down, having no fucks to give, the socially awkward serpent bobbed his head to Enter Sandman by Metallica. It was blasting out of his car around 3:45 in the morning. It’s okay. Who needs sleep anyways? Not him. His brother was lucky he was still working because if he was home his phone would’ve been on silent and he’d be playing the guitar until his eyes demanded sleep.

His car was small enough to go through the alleyway and as he pulled out of it he glanced at the backside of the parlor, where there was indeed this random red door like Tov had described. Chase noticed the boys sitting on the curb looking through a bag filled with healing crystals. Drunk out of their minds. Honestly, pretty in the norm for them.

Molotov and Ransom. Inseparable most days, especially since they were each other’s enablers. Unfortunately, TNT didn’t know Ransom well. That was entirely his own fault because up until recently he was standoffish and didn’t want to build familial bonds with other serpents. For the most part, they only associated with each other in circumstances similar to this. When the dynamic duo got up to no good and found themselves stranded on an island. Metaphorically speaking.

Half of the time they didn’t even know where they were. Thankfully Tov had told him the key direction, which was ‘behind the tattoo place’. Once Chase heard that, he was able to pinpoint exactly where they were and head on over. Stopping right on the sidewalk, since he was coming from the right of them, he glanced at his almost empty gas tank before turning his attention to the two lost souls. Blankly staring, he waited for them to notice he was here and get in the car. Until then, he would keep vibing to his music while taking in the scent of the peach odor-eliminating freshener (it was in the form of a mini vent clip).

“Dude, I’m tell’n you I feel s’mth’n,” Molotov slurred to his best friend as the other man shoved his face away from his own, laughing loudly. He continued to try and shove the crystal into Ransom’s face.

“Ya don’ feel shit!” Ransom exclaimed goodnaturedly, taking his hand from his friend’s face and grasping the back of his head with it before pulling him into a headlock as loud music started to reverberate through the alley. He’d just finished giving Tov a hard noogie when TNT’s car pulled up, and he released his best friend with a teasing, “Bet’cha didn’ feel that!”

“...You’right, I didn’...” Molotov admitted before turning his head to his brother in the car and throwing his hands up excitedly, the crystal he’d been holding flying out of his grasp and into the dark end of the alley. Cheerfully, he exclaimed, “Dynamiiiiiite! My boy, you came!”

“Yeah, I’m here,” TNT boredly stated. “You gonna’ get in, princesses? Or am I going to wait all fucking morning?” As harsh as Chase’s words usually came across, this was actually him being good natured and humorous. His tone wasn’t aggressive as usual and he had a subtle smile on. Unbeknownst to himself, he had forgotten to put a photo booth picture of him and Tiff back into his wallet, after buying pizza hours ago for himself. It was resting by the center console face down.

Speaking of princesses, TNT barely processed that his car was no longer his car. There was a fluffy duck wearing a sunhat and holding a watermelon hanging from his rear mirror. A pink car trash can hanging from the passenger seat, which now held his cans. There no longer was an overflow of Red Bull cans because someone - not him - was maintaining the cleanliness of the car. Pink and sparkly hair clips made home in his cup holders, as well as a handful of scrunchies and golden bobby pins. A glittery pink Juicy Tube lip gloss (in the brightest peach color) and a mini peach-scented body spray were laid on his dashboard by Squirtle, who was now accompanied by a plushie Eevee wearing a flower crown. Tiffannie didn’t even know much about Pokemon-- all she knew was that it was cute and better to put in TNT’s car than Hello Kitty. His dark world was now covered in pink and cute, quite literally, and he thought nothing about it.

The two men scrambled to get up and happily ran towards the car, wrestling each other in the short distance it took to get there. The battle for shotgun was a continuous one between the predictable pair and it didn’t matter whether or not both of them were drinking for it to take place. Ransom shoulder checked Molotov to the side just as the pyro was about to open the passenger side door, causing him to lose his balance and stumble back onto the ground while Ransom giggled uncontrollably. Never one to leave his best friend on the ground unless he was planning on joining him, Ransom reached out a hand to help him up.

Only for Molotov to use the chance upon standing to yank Ransom towards him, all but spinning around him and yanking open the passenger door to jump in and slam it closed with a shit eating grin. Ransom stood outside, dazed for a moment before cursing lightheartedly and sliding into the back seat. Immediately, his senses were confused. He was seeing pink everywhere and the car that usually smelled like old Red Bull and weed- totally their fault, no amount of air freshener had fixed it before either- now had an extremely fruity aroma to it.

“Wha’ the fuck?” He muttered to himself, looking up as the car started moving and immediately landing his gaze on the little duck staring into his soul from the rearview. “Wha’ the fuck?” He repeated quietly, leaning forward to drape over the shoulder of the passenger seat and tap Molotov’s shoulder incessantly.

“What?” Tov asked, taking his gaze off of the bag of crystals to stare into his best friend’s wide eyes. Ran flailed his hand about the car, silently begging his best friend to look around so he could prove he wasn’t hallucinating. In response, Molotov finally took in the now unfamiliar surroundings. “Holy shit, T, someone like…reverse robbed your fuckin’ car!” He shouted over the music, looking to his unfazed brother. “It’s fuckin’ pink as shit in ‘ere, wha’ ‘appened?” His gaze fell on the matte white back of a photo on the now decorated dashboard, and he reached his hand out towards it. “Wha’s this?”

TNT was quick to snatch the photo and pocket it in his jacket. “It’s nothing.” Just when his cheeks started to show a little kiss of pink, the song switched to something even more shocking for Ransom and Tov to digest. What I’ve Been Looking For, which was part of the High School Musical soundtrack. A movie that at this point Chase could quote now. Instead of pointing it out, TNT just kept driving, not explaining the situation of his car and the atmosphere. It was nothing. He had a friend. It was obvious. Why did he have to say it out loud?

“No way bro, you’re blushin’, your car’s pink,” Molotov grinned excitedly and tossed the bag of crystals onto the dash before turning to his brother, leaning towards him as Ransom leaned further into the front to do the same. “Y’know wha’ I’m thinkin’ Ran?”

“I know,” Ransom answered back cheekily, drumming his fingers on the headrest excitedly. “Our boy gone ‘n’ got ‘imself a girlfriend-”

“An’ she’s a regular Barbie doll,” Molotov cut off, faking horror as he held one of the glittery clips in the air between the three of them, the streetlights making them sparkle at regular intervals like a beacon. He looked to Ransom as the other man grinned ear to ear before turning back to his brother. “Are you datin’ a Northie, T?”

“A Northie?!” Ransom exclaimed dramatically as he tossed himself back into his seat. “The horror!”

“WE’RE NOT FUCKING DATING!” TNT was quick to force his foot on the brake pedal, causing the other two to jerk forward. He turned the music off as his car went to a complete stop and grumbled, “Put your seatbelts on, assholes.” Had he thought about asking Tiffannie out? Sure, he had. Numerous times. More times within the past week than he could count but he wasn’t going to jump the gun and he couldn’t assume she’d want to be with trash like him. They were friends. That’s it. Friends. “You two should mind your goddamn business. Since when did you give a fuck who I got with?”

The sudden halt in momentum as Tov smacked into the glovebox caused his teeth to clatter together and his breath to catch in his throat as phantom pains of an accident long past flashed into his alcohol-laden mind. He closed his eyes against the sudden onslaught as the sudden silence of the car smothered him like a plastic bag over his head. He gripped his right arm tightly against his chest as he tried to breathe through the rush of panic.

“Tov, hey Tov,” Ransom called to his friend after getting up from his sprawled position on the backseat’s floor, sobering quickly at the distant look in the other blond’s eyes. “It’s alright bro, I’m here,” Ransom reached over to the hyperventilating man and gently pulled him back against the passenger seat, locking his arms around the other’s rapidly moving chest. “Shit, sorry Chase, we were jus’ teasin’ ya,” He said to the youngest of the three while he kept Molotov from curling in on himself. The panicked man threw a hand behind him to tightly grip the back of his friend’s golden head, grounding himself in the familiar feeling. In response, Ransom leaned into the pull and kissed the back of Tov’s head before resting his forehead against it. “C’mon Ollie, yer here with us. Yer arm’s okay.”

“Think ‘m gonna puke,” Tov said breathlessly, body shaking against Ransom’s anchoring hold.

“Hold it,” Ransom replied, looking to TNT and nodding for him to start driving again. “Gas station’s just ‘round the corner.”


In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@BrutalBx & @LovelyComplex



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Dating Clay Costigan had become part of Caterina’s routine schedule. When she wasn’t too busy with work and when her children were preoccupied with hanging out with their friends or cousins, Caterina would glance at her phone waiting for him to text or call her. His schedule was more demanding than her’s and even when she was busy, he knew where to find her. She couldn’t help but obsess over him… it was different for her.

They hadn’t started dating too long ago and she found herself unable to get him out of her mind. This was so surreal because last month she simply saw him as Clay, the boy who had a kid crush on her. Clay, the boy who loved to be a thorn in her side. Clay, the boy who comforted her when she wasn’t herself. Clay, the boy that flirted constantly but never crossed boundaries. Clay, the boy she couldn’t stop thinking about.

Clayton was no longer a boy. No, he was a man who made her feel more than she ever was used to. Boundaries were crossed in this very apartment and there was no turning back. Her blood rushed when he was near her, his touch made her crave him, ache for him, and his eyes… she could see how much she meant to him. He wanted her and only her. He couldn’t live without her.

While he flooded her with adoration, she didn’t know what to do with it. Was he her person? Was this the feeling of finding your better half? Your soulmate? Was he all that and more to her? Or was she using him as an escape because he gave her exactly what she needed when she was so obviously drowning? What was Clay to her?

Resting on him as they laid in his bed, Cat traced her pointer finger on his bare chest. He soundlessly slept, his face incredibly peaceful and free of worry. Unable to take her eyes off of him, she thought to herself that this was her reality. Clayton Costigan was her boyfriend. He had texted her right when she was closing shop for the day that he’d be home for a few before he had to go back on duty. She wasn’t going to waste this opportunity while her kids were away. She needed him around so the intrusive thoughts of them not working out stayed at bay.

This week was a good week for them because she didn’t have her children with her. Surprisingly, Tommaso had taken her kids to New York with him for the week to ease the transition of the divorce and to show them that their father still cared. All three of them were on the fence going which required Cat to have a sit down and convince them to give their dad a chance. She apologized for all the times she got angry and argued with their father, exposing them to the unhealthy sight of their parents coming undone. They didn’t deserve that. Lord knows no child deserved that. She promised when they came back she was going to make it up to them.

In time, they agreed. Of course with the incentive that they got to see their cousins that they rarely visited. The Esposito family. She was happy to have a temporary peace treaty made between her and her kids. With their word, they promised to communicate their feelings when it came to her and their father.

Still, even as she laid on a bed that brought her comfort, with a man that made her smile, she knew she could be a better mother. All she can do is try her best to manage herself and her emotions better. Their reactions would be the repercussions she would face when she is in the wrong. But because of them, she would only better herself. They were her everything. They were her world.

Just because she didn’t love her husband didn’t mean they had to stop loving their father. They can come to their own opinions at their own time. Cat refused to talk poorly about Tommaso to them. Instead, she would gently show them that some people were not meant to be and even she was not perfect. Human beings, they all made mistakes. Sometimes really fucked up ones.

For the family, her and her husband tried to keep it together, but instead of them wanting to hold on, they sought pleasure elsewhere. He got lost with other women and she found a compass in alcohol. They would still work together to co-parent and love all three of their children no matter what. They just couldn’t do it married anymore.

Securely wrapping her leg around her boyfriend, not wanting to worry about other responsibilities, Cat brushed her nose on Clay’s cheek, in hopes to nudge him awake. He could really power nap when he needs to. As she tightly held onto him, she could only imagine how he made her feel and how she didn’t want to lose what they had together. No man could match the chemistry he gave to her. The chemistry they had.

The man in her arms, he picked up all her broken pieces and made her feel that even in the heart of a storm, where it’s so easy to lose their way, he would be there for her. He would love her. He may not see beyond the moment but he made her feel like he wouldn’t let her go. That they would walk through life together because he knew how it felt… to be so desperately alone.

To feel lost.

Lonely.

In his apartment, isolated, she felt safe. Wanted. Loved. “Baby…” Cat brought her lips to his ear, breathlessly, beguilingly, tickingly it with her breath.

Clay could still see the text from his Uncle John. The words resonated and appeared in every dream. Every nightmare. He’s Dead. Every last breath of a dream he wondered if that’s what David felt. When the water filled his lungs and the cold clung to his skin, did he struggle? Did he accept his fate? Clay was haunted by the end of his best friend in more ways than one.

He opened his eyes from the realm of dreamland with a short startle. He turned his head to see Cat smiling up at him. It wasn’t a dream. He really had the woman that he had longed for, the woman he had so desperately desired, wrapped up in his arms, lying atop his chest and looking at him in a way that no one else had ever looked at him before. God, she was so beautiful. He just wanted to drown in those hazel eyes every minute of every day.

Clayton brought his hand up behind the stunning brunette’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Not just a kiss but a long dance between their lips, soft but firm, every lap of movement reinforcing his desire and love for her. Cat Belmonte was his one and only. He had longed for stolen moments like this and this last week together was the happiest Clay had ever felt. He was good at pretending to be happy it was kind of his thing but for once, he didn’t have to pretend. She had brought him everything he had always hoped she would. He stopped kissing her for a second to look into Cat’s eyes again.

“Best alarm clock ever.”

“Why thank you,” Cat beamed, though taking note of his body shaking prior to him fully registering the day. Shifting herself so that it was more on top of him than not, she looked at him, her hair touching his face and softly whispered, “Bad dream?” If there was one thing Cat was good at, it was noticing the details in people. Maybe not her surroundings, but with people? She could feel when something was off. She was capable of catching lies, ticks, and subtle signs that most people would not see. Call it a sixth sense but she felt like Clay could use her.

“Bad memory.”

Clay wrapped his arms around Cat’s body and pulled her even closer to him. He could feel her heartbeat on top of his, they were beating together, as one, two parts of one working unit. “I….bumped into an old friend, brought back some stuff….” He wondered how his Kitty would feel about him bringing up the David situation? Most people in Edenridge believed his best friend of seventeen years to be nothing more than a dirty pedophile. A child molester. Call it what you want but the boy they once called the Duke was now the bogeyman. “…It’s stirring up some old feelings, not very pleasant ones.”

Resting her weight on him, tracing her finger on his face - his brow, his chin, and his lips - silently and carefully listening, Cat observed her man. Her hazel eyes intently staring into his tender gaze. “I’m here to listen, if you want to share. If not, we can lay here in silence. That’s fine too. Whatever you want, Clay.” Running her hand through his hair, something she did more now than she ever did (ever), Cat gingerly brought her lips to his and devotedly, lovingly kissed him. Not once, not twice, but three times in hopes he’d trust her enough to share. “I might be a gossip but I have no right to judge. And I really don’t share anything that I know I shouldn’t. Well, unless it’s…” She stopped herself when she thought of Tiffannie fucking Father Joe. That was pretty wrong morally. “...something to resolve family drama.”

Clay allowed for his hands to drift down Cat’s bare back and rest on the small of it. He kissed the tip of her nose softly. It was nice to finally have someone to be able to share his pain with. Someone who could understand maybe. “When I was finishing up this morning I ran into Jamie O’Hara. She showed me a letter, like the ones about Allison. This one was about David.”

Where one went, the other followed. That was Clay and David. The Elite. That’s what he and his friends had been called. Clay hates that name. He never felt any different to anyone else but Edenridge held him and his friends on pedestals. They all had so much to live up to but none more so than David and Jamie. The twins were the children of a living legend, the man known universally as Coach. They never stood a chance. “I can’t let Jamie suffer through this shit again, she’s fragile.” Fragile was an understatement when it came to Jamie O’Hara but that was a whole different story.

Tilting her head, taking in everything he was saying, and keeping a constant, gentle stroke on his head and through his hair, Cat’s expression had gone from an uplifting smile to a worried pout. “What about you, baby?” She firmly questioned. “He was your best friend, right?” Clay had a heart of gold that carried so much weight because he cared. He cared too much and no one seemed to notice that he would walk through fire and ice to save this town.

“Everyone needs a shield, that includes you, Clayton.” Wobbling her body so he loosened his grip she sat up on top, “You need just as much support as they do,” Her voice went up an octave and it was clear that Cat was getting pissed off at the letter situation because now it was entering her territory. It was bothering Clay. “Once we find out who’s fucking doing this, I’ll kill them. And if you’re worried about my feelings on David, I never cared. I fucked a man six times my age when I was seventeen and got knocked up. Do you really think I have the right to judge?”

He appreciated her fire, it was one of the things that Clay had always loved about Cat. She was so passionate and so full of life. He pulled her legs over his waist so that the breathtaking beauty straddled him and he sat up, holding their bodies close together before tracing his hands down to rest on the crease between her thighs and her rear. “I don’t know the whole story. David was my best friend, you’re right. He was my brother. I’m gonna figure this out. I’m gonna exorcise all these fucking demons.” He pressed his head against hers. Cat was saying all the right things, she was making him feel at peace. “I’ve made my peace with what happened, now it’s time to help everyone else. I’m gonna fix this baby, then I’m gonna come home to you and be happy.”

“No,” Cat glared at him. Her sharp eyes inches away from his face, capturing his soul. “You’re going to let me help you.” There was no way in hell she’d sit idle. “I’m not some housewife that waits for her man to come home. Let me help you.”

Clay was running numbers in his head like some sort of math whiz (he sucked at math). He knew Cat well enough to know that she wouldn’t lie down on this. She had already made her mind up and was going to help him even if he told her not to. He just had to give her a bone, something to keep her busy and something that may in the long run, aid his cause. What could she do? How could she help? “I know you won’t take no for an answer so how about this? What if you did some canvassing for me? See if any of the desperate housewives are discussing Duke and if they are, see if there is any pertinent info?”

Dully looking at him, unamused and so thrilled, Cat grumbled, “Housewives?” Did he really think the answers were with the older women? She wasn’t dumb. He didn’t want her to get in the way. The people that should be questioned should be all those involved in his circle and the outer circle of that. Family, friends, and whoever the lover was. Was this a losing battle for her? Did he not trust her enough to aid him on his quest? Why was she desperate for his approval and validation?

If Cat argued, he would diminish her intelligence and redirect her out of his way. That’s what every guy did to her, especially her husband. Tommaso belittled her to the point that she no longer knew what she loved anymore. He put doubt in her head that she would never find someone that wanted to love her. That she was undeserving of that kind of happiness. Putting her hands up in a faux surrender, she apathetically agreed, “Fine,” there was a heavy sigh before she continued, “I’ll be a good housewife and talk to the other housewives,” Clearly, Cat was not happy. To the point, she got off of him and tried to leave the bed.

“Hey,” Clay grabbed her hand before she could leave. Cat was very obviously unimpressed with his suggestion and he realised that. “Listen, I know you want to help. I never want to cage you or make you do something you don’t want to. This is just really hard for me. I want you to be safe. I can’t lose you, not now. You are everything to me, this, what we are, it’s everything that I have ever wanted and I don’t want to lose that. Call me selfish but Clay Costigan has found the spark that ignited his heart and its name is Cat Belmonte.”

Part of her loved hearing what he was saying, the other part wasn’t satisfied. Gritting her teeth, she pulled her hand away from him, “I’m not just a fantasy, Clay.” Her voice wasn’t angry. No, it felt like her heart just sank to the bottom of the ocean with no way to be found because it was surrounded by darkness.

Was this her self-sabotaging herself or was she just hurt? Getting off the bed, she started gathering her clothes, “Do you think I’m not afraid of losing you? You’re a fucking cop. That’s something I’m signing up for,” This made her feel like if she actually pursued being a cop, he wouldn’t like the idea of her doing so. The civil service exam was soon and maybe she wasn’t cut out to be one.

“Just because I don’t do the same things you do doesn’t mean I can’t die. We all can die. I can die from alcohol poison any day now. You want me to be your everything? Treat me like I’m not this woman you’ve had a crush on since you were a kid. Treat me like a goddamn person.” At this point she had her jeans and her bra on. Cat thought what they had was good. It felt so good. Now, all she could feel was pain.

Clay got out of the bed and made his way over to the older woman. “I’m sorry,” He put his hands onto her arms and sighed. “You’re right. You are a badass and I was just being stupid and protective.” His fingers wandered up to her jaw before he wrapped his hands around the back of her neck. “Kitty, I want you to be a part of every aspect of my life. I really do. I want to share everything with you. I don’t care if that sounds sappy or too forward, I don’t give a shit.” Clay dropped his hands down to his own waist and took a slight step back away from Cat. “Anyway you can help me, I’ll gladly take it.”

Instead of responding, Cat kept silent and turned around to put her shirt on. Her hazel eyes began to water. She didn’t want him to see her cry. This just hit home and she didn’t know how to react so all she could do is say, “I’m sorry…” She didn’t mean to pressure him to give in. She wanted it to be his choice but now it didn’t feel right. The tears began to run down her cheeks, “I’m so sorry…” What were they doing? This wasn’t right. They shouldn’t be together. She wasn’t good for him. With silent urgency, she tried to wipe her tears from under her eyes. No… stop. Don’t show him how weak you are.

“Oh hell no,” Clay grabbed Cat by the shoulder and span her to face him. She liked it rough in bed but this was something different. “You are not crying because I’m an idiot. You’re not doing that.” He wrapped her up into his arms and held her impossibly close against him. “I’ve still got some growing up to do and some learning to do but there is one thing I know for sure. There ain’t nobody else in this world for me. My heart is yours. It always has been. I never want to see you cry or cause you pain. Kitty…” He gently placed his forehead against hers, their noses touching. He reached a hand behind her head and grabbed a handful of her hair. “…I love you.”

Stunned at those last words, and still very much crying, Cat stared into Clay’s sunlight brown eyes, her heart stopping. She stood there in disbelief. “What?” She questioned as if those words weren’t something she had heard in years. Something completely and utterly foreign to her. “You… you don’t know that.” He loved her? Like truly? Why? What did she have to offer? She was just going through the motions. She had nothing to offer him. Well, aside from sex. Really, all she was, was a body. “You… can’t say that. We just started dating.”

“Well, I did,” Clay was not going to back down from this one. He was a fighter. He let go of his hold from her and backed away, picking up his own clothes off of the floor and beginning to slip them on. “I don’t expect you to say it back. Like you said, we just started dating,” He glanced over at the clock, he was going to be late and Chief Broadus would be pissed but that didn’t really matter at this point. “But I said it. It’s not an expectation. It’s not a curse. It’s just how I feel. You can feel however you want. I just wanted you to know.” After placing a t-shirt over his bare chest, the young officer sat back down on the bed to tie his shoes. “I told you, Cat. I’m the guy for you.”

Even though he was saying all the right words, his actions made her ache. He was leaving her. It didn’t matter if he had a job to go to. He was leaving her. Abandoning her like every one of her lovers did. She was scared. How did he expect her to react? She was getting a divorce. An obvious example of how loveless her life has been. The only true love she’s ever felt was what she had with her kids and them for her. Cat wanted to tell him that this was all too much. That she didn’t know how she was supposed to act when she was likely more terrified of losing him than he was of her. Rather than react poorly, she finished getting dressed, slipping on her socks and shoes while standing. “Okay,” Cat bravely smiled. He had to go to work. The last thing she wanted to do was keep him from doing what he loved.

Clay got up to his feet. He had fucked it. He had fucked his dream life with his dream girl and he had done it in a week. Way to go Costigan. He brushed Cat’s cheek with his palm and sighed. “I don’t wanna go but I have to,” He leant in for a kiss again. He didn’t even know if this was what she wanted, he would be surprised if it was after all this. He should’ve just kept quiet, he should’ve just said it was a bad dream and moved on but he wanted to be honest and now the entire thing sucked. “I’ll message you when I get finished. Let you know I’m safe.”

“Please do…” She muttered. Cat felt incredibly pathetic. Weak. This was all her doing. She had hurt him. That’s what she did. She hurt people and they left her. She caressed his face, brushing his hair behind his ear with her hand - the deepest sadness in her eyes, as if it was a vast ocean of endless to. “I’ll be waiting.” She hated herself. She hated that she couldn’t tell him she loved him back because she did. She was just so fucking terrified to say those three words and then he would leave her for good. He would hate her. What was she doing? Falling in love with Clay Costigan wasn’t part of the plan.

“You better be,” Clay gently pressed his lips to hers again before fully pulling away and heading towards the door. He cracked it open a touch and inhaled deeply; his face transforming into the goofy grin that he had worn like a mask for the better part of twenty years. He placed his maverick aviator shades onto his face and fired two finger guns at his good lady, “Cos when I’m done, I’m gonna rock you like a hurricane baby.” He placed some money on the side counter. “You already know the line,” He departed swiftly. If he had stayed, he would never have left.

After Clay left, Cat dropped to the floor. She really fucked this up. One short moment of happiness and she was already ruining it. She stood in Clay’s apartment for a good ten minutes crying and hating herself before she cleaned her face, retouched her makeup that was now flakey, and took a few deep breaths. In and out. In and out. In and out. It was time for her to do a couple of errands before she called it a night and went back to her cookie cutter family home in Eastbrook.

Life goes on.

It always does.

Time and time again she went through deep waters, drowning. She didn’t realize how lonely and sad she was until Clay came in like a crashing wave. She was too busy being everyone’s anchor. That’s just the role she was given and as such, she had to own it. It was how things were supposed to be.

Drowning… She was drowning and the only person that saw her struggle was the man she pushed away. He didn’t abandon her. He didn’t purposely leave her. He wouldn’t. She knew that. It was her. All her. Scared of being saved and actually feeling pure, unadulterated, and raw happiness. Scared of staying afloat, with a man that could carry her like no other. Why was she a walking contradiction? She didn’t want to be trapped. It suffocated her. That didn’t mean she was against him loving her, holding her, and wanting her. Caterina so desperately needed him to hold her head above water, yet there was so much doubt. Chains holding her back from loving him full heartedly and steadfast.

Why the hell did Clay want her?

If only she could learn to master the art of drowning. The art of learning to survive, may it be in water or emotions. But she knew she couldn’t do it alone. All she ever was, was alone. She wanted Clay to stay.

As a Belmonte, Cat had to keep it together. A smile for a smile. That’s how this game of pretend would go. There may be hurt residing inside her heart and mind but at the end of the day, she was an actress. Neither Cat or Clay could afford showing their pain. Not today, at least.

They had to keep swimming.




In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
December 4th, 2016
Pinehurst Academy’s Basketball Court
Celtics VS Monarchs Championship Game



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The noise was deafening.

Francis had sunk the last three pointer with the fadeaway at the buzzer. He dropped to his knees and raised his fists triumphantly in the air as everybody got to their feet and cheered and yelled at the top of their lungs. Edenridge beats Pinehurst. Celtics beat Monarchs. No luck but what we make.

Allison ran screaming into the court, throwing her Pom-poms to Mei as she leapt into her boyfriend's arms and kissed him deeply. “You did it, baby! You did it! I’m so proud of you!” She looked out amongst the sea of people to her parents and her little sister. It was almost sobering. The thought of what her mother had been doing, the criminality that she had hidden, made her sick. At least with ReyRey, he was honest about being a nasty piece of work. She waved to Alexandria, her grinning little bean, as Francis waved to his own brother. They were the king and the queen of the school.

Russell and Rhett ran off towards their families to engage in love in its purest form, that between parent and child. On the other end, Coach looked at his son. David was smiling, but there was a hint of sadness in his face. It was obvious he wished he could’ve been on the court with them, but that wasn’t going to stop him from celebrating with the rest of his teammates. “Get out there, kiddo.” John removed his hat and sat down on the bench to watch his son run out across the hardwood.

David ran up to Danny and gave him a hearty hug. “You fucking did it, boyo. I’m leaving this team in capable hands.”

Clay stood alone on the court as everyone celebrated with the ones they loved. He could feel all the people around him, fans hollering in joy, shouting nothing but kind words. Yet he couldn’t feel them. He made his way over to the bench and sat down by himself. He glanced up at the scoreboard and then back down to the congregation that had formed at half court. Strange little thing about this game of theirs; it made everyone love them.

“How do you feel, Casanova?” The familiar, sultry voice that Clay loved so much appeared behind him before she joined the bench beside him, watching her family run on the court to interrupt Danny’s lovefest with David. She smirked as she watched her brother, who was likely stroking David’s ego like the fanboy he was. She quietly watched him go from his teammate to his family, getting pulled into a tight embrace by their mother.

On the sidelines, near them, Taz had thrown his jacket on Vivia and begrudgingly complimented her performance. He didn’t want to ruin the moment so he simply let all her decisions of the night go, at least for now. Cat’s children followed Auntie Mira to bother Pierce Mercer, someone Mira looked up to, who was talking about the game with Kylee. The mayor’s daughter who always kept her socials updated. Now it was time for her to share the news of the game. Roddy had left Kylee’s side to find his way to his brother to say congrats and retreat just as quickly. And here Cat was, letting everyone soak in the energy, breathe, and enjoy the good feeling, sitting beside the charming Clay Costigan. “I’d say you did amazing.” She turned to the boy next door gleaming, her old pom poms resting on her lap.

Casanova. The voice was distinct and like music to his ears and the name; only one person uses that name; his Kitty. “It was mostly Fran and Danny with Russ going beast mode on D. Still, I got my licks in.” Clay turned to the gorgeous woman that was sitting next to him and smiled. “But to answer your question I feel a hell of a lot better now you’re sitting next to me.” He wondered, albeit briefly, if at the last second his family would walk through that door having been stuck just on the other side listening in to what could be his crowning moment. Clayton’s dark eyes fell upon the Pom-poms in Cat’s lap and he cocked an eyebrow. “Well well, is there a Clover’s outfit underneath those clothes, Kitty. That’s a bit kinky but I’m here for it.”

“I doubt I still fit it,” Cat laughed, knowing damn well she still had her uniform after all these years in a box in the basement. “Don’t even think about it, Clay,” She teased, noticing him checking her out, before gently nudging herself on his sweaty arm, “Give yourself more credit, I doubt anyone could compliment everyone else as well as you do. They all have their niches, sure, but you, you navigate wherever it’s necessary.” If anything, Clay moved around the court like he was sailing a ship and while he didn’t think he had much control, a lot of it relied on him making sure every one of his teammates had their openings and could run through the play without crashing into someone.

“I appreciate that Cat, thank you.” Clay reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of water to take a sip from. It was hard work winning high school basketball games. Yet it was also hard work sitting next to Cat when every iota of his being was screaming at him, every fibre of him on fire and telling him that this was the love of his life. Still he was a kid and it was just hormones right? “There gonna’ be a big party at the Belmonte residence tonight? To celebrate?” He had lived next door to the Belmonte family all his life and their parties were legendary. For one night only, Scott Street turned to the Southside. “If my Mom turns up, tell her we won won’t you?”

“I’ll stop by when I drop my kids off,” Cat’s gaze searched the crowd to see Elisa make her way to the family to give her brother her regards. “Silly Clay, you should know better. Danny’s not going to be home for a few. There’s bound to be a party, especially after a big win like tonight? There’s always a party.” Cat knew the Clovers well enough and also the dynamic they shared with the Celtics. Whether there was one planned or not, there would be one, she just knew it. “Ma is going to watch the kids for me, I’m going out tonight. Treating myself to sister time with El and Nina.” She gestured toward Elisa who gave her a look that showed she could really use a drink. Their father had joined the fray and instead of giving his son a hug, he looked like he was giving him pointers on how to do better for the next season. “What’s your plans tonight? Going to party hard, hm? Get with a pretty girl?” Her attention was brought back at him, as she grabbed onto her pom poms and playfully shaked it. Damn she missed the days when she was a Heartbreaker. Those times were simple. Sweet. She missed that feeling.

“Is that an invitation?” God he wished it was. If Cat Belmonte turned to him and said that she wanted him, that would literally be his life complete. She was cute shaking her pom poms and it made Clay wish he had seen her in that Clover outfit. He let out a small laugh. She was making him feel better, less lonely, for a little while at least. “I do have a date, yes. That’s her over there,” He pointed to a girl in the Pinehurst bleachers. “Way out of my league but obviously looking to slum it for a little bit so I’ll probably miss whatever party these reprobates end up at since they are no place for a nice evening.”

“First of all, ew. You’re sleeping with the enemy?” Cat glanced at the girl, surveying her up and down. She looked familiar. She didn’t know why but she did. The shirt she was wearing reminded her of her ex and she hated it. The girl got up from her seat to go to this photographer with fluffy hair. She narrowed her eyes trying to focus in on him… they looked scarily familiar. He looked like the spitting image of… Shaking her head, she put her focus back on the girl. Sure, the Pinehurst girl was cute and all but Clay could do so much better. Cat was certain of that. “Secondly, maybe when you’re older—” Elisa found her way out of the chaos that was the court and their family and found her way to Cat and Clay.

“Hey you two! Congrats, Costigan. You were great! You all were.” Elisa was quick to swoop her sister off the bench, grabbing her hands that held the pom poms, excited to not worry about grading papers for one night. Tonight they were going to have fun. “Mind if I steal her? We gotta’ save Nina from Palermo.”

“Not sleeping with her yet,” Clay clicked his fingers and laughed just before they were joined by the hot goth math teacher. “By all means, go be with the family. Thanks for the chat, Cat.” He got up to his feet and waved at the two women before heading off into the crowd.

“I can’t believe he wants to sleep with a rando Pinehurst chick,” Cat complained, grabbing onto Elisa’s arms as they made their way back to their family, getting ready to say goodbye. They had drinking to do. That was far more important than talking on a basketball court in Pinehurst all night.

“Hey, you can’t talk. You slept with number 7 way back when,” Elisa chuckled as she heard Cat grumble in response. There was a rule between the three eldest Belmonte women. They would never speak his name but they would call him by his number. That’s how bad the break up went and from there Cat’s life spiraled.

From a distance, Kylee was once again left alone. Where did Pierce go? Roddy? Where was Mei? Why was she left alone?! Frantically, she scurried through the side of the court, not realizing she was on the Pinehurst side. Turning her head to see Francis talking to Russ, she found the way he looked at his teammate so… so… SLAM! Kylee found herself crashing right into… right into… a Pinehurst photographer?! Oh my god. Roddy was going to tease her later. “S-sorry.” She looked between the older boy and the girl like a deer in headlights.

That hurt!

The boy almost dropped his camera, his pride and joy. Thank God it was hanging from his neck. He instinctively put his hands onto the girl’s arms after she crashed into him to steady her before quickly pulling away and putting them behind his back. “No, no it’s fine. We were too engrossed in conversation…are you ok?” This girl was very pretty and her clothes screamed money. If he didn’t know different he could’ve thought her a Monarch like him and his sister.

The other girl beside the photographer who was checked out by Clay and Cat only moments ago couldn’t help but give the widest grin at the newcomer. She loved when people got embarrassed. It was so, so, so adorable. “You hit my brother hard! You must be dizzy.”

“No…no, I'm good. Thank you.” On top of Kylee’s head pounding, the scent of this boy’s cologne was distracting. Out of her goddamn mind, she blurted out a compliment, “You smell nice,” before realizing she didn’t even know him. He looked handsome and all, and his hair she could see herself playing with, but he was Pinehurst! The enemy!

Okay, this is when she needed to head out. From the side of her peripheral vision, she caught sight of her best friend hiding by the bleachers. Thank fucking Christ. “Um, excuse me. Sorry again.” And with that, the mayor’s daughter ran off blushing hard and calling out Roddy’s name.

As she ran off, the Pinehurst girl snickered and teased her brother, “You smell nice.”

“Shut up, Kaylee,” He put his hands behind his head as he watched the Edenridge girl run off into the wave of faces. “Besides you’ve been gawking at that Edenridger all night, the one with the hair. You really think that he’s worth your time? They’re scum here, sis.”

“Scum doesn’t mean he isn’t fun. He was hot on the court. You saw it yourself! And he just has the goofiest of smiles. I’d love to toy with him. But you wouldn’t get it. All you think about are those comic books and being a nerd! You’ll never get laid, Bambam.” Kaylee protested, crossing her arms and scanning the crowd for number sixteen.

“What I do with my life is not your concern, Kaylee.” He took off his camera and placed it in its secure case. “Not you, not our darling brother, no one. I’m gonna follow the crowd to whatever party these guys end up at. Try and get some pictures for the baby. Do me a favour, if you open your legs for that idiot, put a sock on the door or something so I know it’s you in there and I don’t accidentally take a photo of my little sister getting railed by an Edenridge Moron.”

“Wow, wow, wow. Don’t need to have a stick up your ass, bro. You know maybe one day you’ll take pictures that I don’t know, make you smile, instead of stirring the pot. It’s going to get you in trouble one day!” Kaylee patted the back of her brother before skipping away, “Well, I’ll find the deetz and text you. See you, Bambam.” And with that she playfully blew her brother a kiss before socializing with the enemy to see if she could hitch a ride and make her mark.

Tonight was going to be fun.


In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Timestamp: Current IC Day - Monday
(Day Dear David letters get sent out)
@LovelyComplex & @BrutalBx

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Freshly moved into her dead love’s bedroom, Penelope had a little under a month to get used to this, living at the Deckers. She saw Rhonda everyday now right before she left (around breakfast time) and when she returned. Poppy spent days just laying in Charlie’s bed imagining all the things he thought about while he was alone in this room. His room. From time to time, she would look out the window towards Allegra and Mordechai’s new room, her old one, and give them a wave like he would with her. This wasn’t so bad. This was a little painful but she was managing. If anything, it made her feel at peace.

Penelope was grateful that the same day Allegra came to town, Rhonda accepted her. Her second mother looked forward to the company. It was a no brainer she would say yes. Poppy did find it a little weird to live in the room that now that she thought about it, she was rarely in. Charlie was always over her place. She didn’t really need to climb his window like he did with her. She did enter his bedroom a few times throughout the year, like when he was sick or when he would randomly text her ‘hey’ but was too bruised to climb her window. One night she came unannounced. That night was one of the worst nights they had because they argued. She didn’t even remember what the argument was about, all she knew was he broke her heart that night. That was neither here nor there and all in the past. The past was just that, the past.

The feeling of nostalgia washed over her everyday, as if Charlie had only left to do business and would soon return. As if he went on about his day to pick up bagels with cream cheese to enter her bedroom unannounced, but still expected. Poppy could tell Rhonda cleaned in here, dusting his furniture lightly, making his bed, putting his books back after she took them out, right where she got them from; his things unchanged. Although the undertone was subtle, Poppy could feel his mother’s love throughout it all. Rhonda loved her son and Pops could only imagine how badly she missed him, remembering only the best of him. The man that Penelope loved.

His room was a poetic time capsule. His wall of books and vinyl records showed how absolutely passionate he was of the world around him. From classical literature, like Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, and William Shakespeare, to eclectic music (music was like literature to him) with a heavy lean toward Indie and Classic Rock, like Nada Surf, South to Meatloaf, and The Smiths; All which helped him through the night, keeping all the bad noise out of his head.

There was his desk, near his window, which had his computer, TV, and PlayStation on top of it. And now, his manuscript was laying on it, no longer hidden, waiting to be read. She still didn’t have the courage to read it. This was a lot of change for her in a small amount of time. Baby steps. That’s all she could do. Baby steps. Inside his desk were his writing supplies and notebooks he hadn’t touched yet. Under his desk, there was a small fridge and a box with his video games. Not too many games but enough to keep him busy. A lot of his money went to supporting his mother. The books and the records? Charlie was well liked (until that day). Uncle Campbell likely gave him some free records and even gave him discounted ones. The books were a collaborative effort from his mother, her family, her, himself, Beau, and etc. He was well loved, he just stopped seeing it, which sucked.

On the wall behind his bed frame, he had a small display that surrounded the Gallows poster. Around the poster he placed ripped pages of his favorite books. To the right of the poster, he had a framed picture of his friends, all the Southies she knew he loved. Then there was his door with a painted quote. His favorite quote ’There is a tide in the affairs of men…’ from Julius Caesar. Freshman year, she and him painted it. It was one of her fonder memories of him and with him, though they were stupid and ended up getting more paint on each other than the actual door.

In the background one of his records, Paint the Silence by South, played as she sat on his bed looking at her phone. Recently, Shannon was able to get Penelope to throw away her face masks. A shield for her during social situations. Shannon was reaching breakthroughs with her client and potentially curing her agoraphobia. A long hard battle of trust building and hoping Poppy would receive her. Since the night at the grave, the James girl was nothing but receiving. Listening and trying to change for the better. She needed to live.

Slowly but surely, Pops began wearing her nicer clothes that she hadn’t worn in years (they still fit her, even if she lost a lot of weight). Unfortunately for Decky, she still hadn’t returned his hoodie, but she also wasn’t wearing it everyday like she did throughout the past month. There was more color in Poppy’s skin and more emotion, no longer chained by grief. Her grief was still there but she was getting better control over it and how it dictates her life. She was getting there and everyone was noticing.

It was Monday and she had the day off from the cafe so she decided to take a leap of faith and wear a summer dress. Something she usually only wore to show off to Charlie. Her skin was pale as hell but at least she was exploring outside of jeans, tanks, hoodies, and Charlie’s jacket. She was still going to wear Charlie’s jacket. It was hers now, so that wouldn’t stop anytime soon, if at all. She needed at least one comfort item. Along with that, she wore black converse, put her hair up in a messy ponytail, and applied concealer and mascara. Can you believe it? She put makeup on! Not a lot, but enough to make her look less like a walking corpse and more like a human fucking being. And of course, she couldn’t forget her teardrop necklace that held Maxine’s ashes. Poppy fully loaded. Charlie’s jacket and Maxine’s teardrop were strictly mandatory and became a staple in her look.

Sitting on her bed, having gotten up earlier than usual, Poppy debated if she should text the crew - Jade, Decky, Allegra, and the kids - to see if they wanted to hang. She could visit her family’s house to tell Decks and Legs but the last time she did so, Decky was an unbecoming sight (he was basically naked). It might be better to text. She hummed to the tone of the song and it was clear as day that Charlie’s room became a safe haven for her. A place of peace. Her castle. She didn’t feel sad, mad, nor did she feel happy. She simply let herself be. Just be. Mrs. Ramsey was proud of her with all the progress she’s made. There was no doubt about that one.

It was nice to have sound in the house again. Rhonda had all but lived in silence for the last two years, save the shouting outside her window on any given day. Having the noise from her son’s record player bouncing off and around the walls of the house warned her heart.

MOTHER MURDER!

WITCH!

BLIND WHORE!

Ronnie had learned to convert the jibes into white noise, the same way she did when she got similar barbs about James. There were times that the words slipped through the gaps and penetrated the bubble she had surrounded herself. When they did that, she often wondered, what had she done to deserve her lot in life? Rhonda was not a suspicious sort. She did not believe in ghost stories or curses. Charlie did. Charlie had an entire theory about why they had the luck they did and it stemmed from Ronnie’s days at Edenridge High, when she was a cheerleader. The Unlucky Clovers curse.

The Deckers were not any kind of Edenridge royalty. They were not foundlings, they were not Serpents or Gorta. They were just a small family from Maine who moved here in the forties after World War II. Charlie did a family tree for them once, turns out she was Dutch, how fun. There was nothing special about them, they were just there. Then when Ronnie joined the Clovers, things began to change. She was already a knockout; tall, long legs, angular features and her eyes, those startling green eyes, the boys (and some girls) found it all too easy to fall in love with her. Yet Ronnie was quiet, bookish and never attended the cool kid parties.

But then she did.

When Rhonda ventured to a John O’Hara party, she didn’t expect to fall in love but she did. As soon as she walked into the mansion on Scott Street, she saw him. Maybe it was the long hair and the leather jacket? Maybe it was the way he played the guitar like he was fighting for his life? Whatever it was, when Ronnie saw James Strongbow, she was hooked immediately. Their dalliance was all too brief as James’ Gallows commitments tore him away from Eden all the time. It wasn’t fair for her to be waiting all the time. She understood that and let him go where he needed to. The problem was she would need him more now than ever.

When her parents died, Ronnie was seventeen. She had no other family to speak of and had to take care of herself. She had to drop out of school and get a job at the diner. She was there for years, unable to escape. She was working there the night she heard about the St Paul’s Cathedral fire and she was there when James, now going by Father Winters, walked about into her life. He had lost the long hair but he was still handsome but his face was sad, always sad. But again, they were only together a short time before he put a gun in his mouth. This time he left her, he left her with a gift, the best gift, Charlie Jay.

Charlie wondered if his mother had never been a Clover; then maybe her parents wouldn’t have died on their way to a game. If she wasn’t a clover, she wouldn’t have had to take menial work for no money. If she wasn’t a clover, maybe she wouldn’t be going blind. Ronnie always retorted, if she wasn’t a clover, she wouldn’t have had Charlie. No matter what he did, no matter what people thought of her, Rhonda did not regret her life. She did not regret loving James and she did not regret making Charlie. He was her little boy.

Her hand traced the braille paper with her fingertips. She still had vision, on a good day but she found it easier at this point just to lean into her disability. This letter had arrived a few days prior, she hadn’t the heart to tell Poppy yet but she knew she had to. Ronnie just wanted the girl to be comfortable before Charlie broke her heart again. Pulling herself to her feet, letter in hand, Rhonda made her way towards what was once her son's room, now belonging to his great love. She cracked open the door a touch and knocked twice.

“Hey baby girl, can I come in?”

“Oh, yes. Of course,” Penelope pocketed her phone inside Charlie’s jacket before rushing to the door. “Want to sit on the bed?” The young woman offered guidance as she propped the door open wider and gently laid her hand on her mother’s arm; Her mother not by blood but through love. “I hope the music isn’t too loud. It helps start my day right,” And keeps Charlie’s memory absolutely positive in her mind.

Living in the Decker household was a little bittersweet because Rhonda was supposed to be her mother-in-law. Rhonda was such a beautiful woman that had so much strength for her circumstances. No matter how hard things got Rhonda fought. She was a fighter. The best kind. Nothing Edenridge threw at her would take her down, and it was admirable to watch and see. Poppy could only imagine how much life hurt her. How many times she thought about giving up. And yet, here she was, allowing Poppy to stay with her and keeping Charlie’s memory alive.

Penelope knew in her heart that one day Charlie would make her his. All the grief and doubt, all the questions of whether or not he loved her or not, none of that matter. She waited for him. Waited for him to say three words. She waited and wouldn’t stop waiting even after death. That’s because she knew he loved her. He was the one for her. Her soulmate. But she knew better, Charlie communicated in prose. Poetry and lines from books. He was a socially awkward kid who put his fist in his mouth - metaphorically speaking - when he tried to express his vulnerability. Thinking back on all their moments, that’s one thing she loved about him. God, she loved him.

The Charlie she loved always found his way back to her and through action, they held each other close. Through action, they stood at each other’s side. Through action, she was always there. She never left him. She would never leave him. All she ever wanted was to be his constant, the one that grounded him and made him feel happy and safe. In her heart of hearts, she knew that was the love of her life and her future husband. She would’ve married him, if he were still alive. She loved him. After all this time, she still loved him. And that’s never going to change. He was her Forever.

“Is everything okay?” Penelope warmly asked, as she looked up at Rhonda with kindness and love.

Ronnie allowed herself to be led by Poppy to what was once her son’s bed. Having the young girl here had added so much life to the house, even if Penelope was still searching for a way to increase her own. Rhonda had spent many hours chatting with Victoria on the subject of the young Penelope James; on how she was a shell of her former self. Maxine’s premature death traumatised her; Charlie’s destroyed her. Yet Ronnie had seen such a change in the girl, she was rebuilding, slowly. She didn’t want to halt that progress but there was something that Poppy needed to know.

“I’m not sure,” Rhonda responded as she sat down next to her son’s great love. Today she could see shapes and a little colour. Tomorrow, perhaps there would be more, most likely less. She was having more bad days than good ones recently. She entwined her fingers with Penelope’s and smiled. “You know it’s funny, when I found out that I was pregnant, after I got over the initial pray to God moment, I thought to myself, I would love to have a little girl.” Her cloudy green eyes danced around the room in reminiscence. “I could teach her makeup, how to do her hair, and teach her how to dance. Then nine months later, I get Charlie Jay. You know he’s named after my mother? And instead of learning how to color coordinate, he’s teaching me about Wainright. Now you’re here, the daughter I always wanted.”

With all her heart, Rhonda adored Poppy, she truly did. Even with her vision, she could see that her son was in absolute love with this girl. It was in his cadence, in the way he morphed into a competent different person when she was in the room, in a good way. It was in the way, late at night, that he would recite texts of love before climbing through her bedroom window. Rhonda always knew. Her face soured somewhat at a memory. Charlie was so much like his father in many ways, not all of them good.

“Penelope, I’m glad you’re here.”

Penelope squeezed Rhonda’s hands, if only she had come sooner. There was a sadness in Rhonda that the girl could feel simply by her aura. If Poppy hadn’t fallen apart, she could’ve been here to take care of her. The grief was too heavy at the time and all she could do was focus on herself and her grief. It was a selfish thing but no matter how hard she tried, everything was so fucking painful and all she could do was internalize. She made it this far because she completely shut down and closed off from the world, but like Charlie said, it was time to live.

There was no use in regretting and wishing things went differently. So many things could’ve been done differently, but what was the point of thinking about life like that? Penelope was drowning and finally, she had her head above water. She was here now and that’s what was important. “I’m glad to be here, mama.” There were only two people Poppy considered her mother and one of them was in this room with her. “How are you holding up? I’m sorry I haven’t checked on you sooner. It’s not that I forgot you or anything. I really do love you.”

“Baby girl, don’t worry about me,” Rhonda smiled sweetly at the younger woman. “I made my peace with the world a long time ago. You on the other hand, you’ve still got some fighting to do.” She leaned in and kissed the top of Poppy’s head. She really was such a sweet girl and if the world were a different place, Ronnie would be proud to call her daughter. “I love you too, by the way,” And she meant those words. She had watched a bright, sparkling young child blossom into a beautiful woman. One of the last clear memories she had was graduation day. Rhonda couldn’t go for obvious reasons but Vicky was kind enough to take pictures and although sad, Poppy looked radiant.

She was dragging it out; she didn’t want to. She was scared. Rhonda Decker didn’t hide from a fight though and if she could teach Penelope anything during their time together, it would be to never stop fighting. “What did Charlie tell you about his Dad?”

“His part in the Gallows. The fire. His mental health. The aftermath and how it impacted you. Charlie didn’t like talking about his dad much. Occasionally, he’d bring something up but then he would move to the next best thing, quickly. I had to piece it together after some time. I don’t think he really wanted to burden me so… he just didn’t tell me things. To protect me, I guess.” Briefly, Penelope’s tone saddened as she thought about all the times Charlie failed to express himself to her. For anyone else they wouldn’t last in a friendship like that but for Poppy she couldn’t help but wait for him to open up to her. In his time. Always in his time. She waited for him to see her. Really see her. See that she would always be there. Come rain or come shine, she trusted him and would never leave his side. Though it hurt so bad, it was her and Charlie. Always her and Charlie. “Sorry I don’t have anything more… some friend I am…”

“No!” Ronnie interrupted. “No. Don’t ever make yourself feel like you weren’t enough because he didn’t share enough. I love my son but he had his ways which I never agreed with.” The older woman looked towards the piece of paper in her hand. The time had come to tell Poppy another heartbreaking home truth about her beloved.

“When I was with James, he wasn’t himself or at least he wasn’t how I remembered him. After the fire, he just seemed so lost. I knew from the off that whatever we had wasn’t pure, it wasn’t real. It was a symptom of his growing illness.” Rhonda releases her grip on Poppy’s hand and passes her the note; a letter. It was two pages, one normal and one in braille. “He liked to disappear for weeks at a time and I didn’t question it. I wanted to let him do what he needed to. All I knew was that he was going back to the reservation where he was born; Blue Hills.”

The Blue Hill Reservation was a little ways away, around two hours in a car. It was a place nestled in a small valley between Boston and Salem. It was fairly small and definitely struggled financially based on what James used to tell her. She had heard that most people there were good, hardworking people who had fallen on hard times.

“Does the name Mitena mean anything to you?”

Deeply staring at the letters, Penelope shook her head, having no clue what Mitena meant. “No ma’am, I’ve never heard of it,” That sinking feeling crept in her chest once more. She wasn’t so much different than the woman sitting beside her. Charlie had his secrets. She kept finding more of them over time. Maybe what she had with Charlie wasn’t pure either; it wasn't real. Maybe their love for one another was only something fabricated because of his growing illness. The sadness and doubt flushed over her. She was doing so well too, keeping these feelings at bay. Did Charlie not love her like she loved him? “What does it mean?” Her voice broke, as she glanced up from the letters to look at Rhonda.

“Mitena is a girl that Charlie and I met during your freshman year at Eden. She came from the Blue Hill Reservation. She was James’s daughter that he fathered during our time together. Poppy, she’s Charlie’s sister.”

Ronnie’s mind drifted back to that day. It was a few days removed from the Davies girls death and Charlie was doing a genealogy report. It flagged that his father had signed another birth certificate a few weeks after Charlie himself was born. They chased the lead to a young girl in the Blue Hills who had just lost her Mom. After much cajoling, Charlie and Mitena met in a coffee shop and talked for hours and then went their separate ways. Rhonda didn’t know if her son wanted a relationship with this girl, based on this brand new letter, it was fairly obvious he did.

“He said he didn’t want to know her so we only ever met her the once or at least, that’s what I thought. That letter in your hand? It says Charlie Jay wrote to her every week, that they exchanged gifts and he sent her money once a month.”

“Oh,” was Penelope’s initial response. What did Rhonda want her to do with this information? Why would Poppy knowing Charlie had a sister be important, in any way? He had a sister and he didn’t care to tell her. A sister he wrote to frequently and sent her money. Why was it whenever she seemed to rebuild and heal, everything fell apart just as fast? “I… I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” the young girl breathed, looking away from her second mother figure.

With a lost stare, she searched around the room, searching for answers but only seeing him. Everywhere she saw him. All she saw was as him. Swallowing hard, she sat there, feeling that drowning sensation once more, where no land was in sight. Falling deeper and deeper into her own grief. “I’m so tired, mama. I can’t handle this tide… it’s like crashing into me again and again and again. I get my head above water, I breathe, and then I’m pulled under again. There’s nothing to grab onto and I’m too deep to stand up… I’m tired of this feeling. I don’t think I can do this anymore. I wished Charlie had killed me.” She wanted to die.

“No!” The older woman said. The poor girl was hurting as she had every right to. Nobody knew Charlie like Poppy did, not even Rhonda. They were a part of the same person and when he died, a part of her did as well. Her recovery has been slow and it had been difficult and now all that hard work was being undone. “No! Don’t you dare!” Ronnie wrapped her arms around the young girl and pulled her into her motherly embrace. “I can’t pretend to know why he would keep this from you, I don’t know why Charlie did a lot of the things he did but what I do know is that if he could see the pain he was causing you, it would kill him. He loved you and I love you too, you are one of the little joys in my life.”

She had made peace with a lot of the sadness in her life. What Charlie did, what James did, what happened to her parents and her eyesight, it all just was what it was. Yet there were rare instances, when Rhonda was alone and the world fell silent. She could not hear, she could not see and she could not feel. She imagined that this was something similar to what the young girl in her arms was feeling. “I had to tell you Pops because the person who is tormenting us, whoever it is that is twisting my little boys words, they’ve threatened her.” Ronnie’s eyes were welling up, tears began to dance down her face. “She is innocent in all of this and some monster is saying they want to hurt her because of what Charlie did. The police won’t do anything and I refuse to let what my baby boy did cause any more harm to people who don’t deserve it.”

From tormented soul to Street Angel, Penelope narrowed her eyes as she adjusted her position to wipe Rhonda’s tears with Charlie’s jacket sleeve, “Are you serious?” From sadness to anger, Penelope pushed her grief to the side to take in all the pain and emotion of Rhonda and let it build up inside her. “Is that why you told me? You need me to get a crew and fetch her? What a sicko. When I find out whoever is toying with my family, I’m going to kill them.” Poppy didn’t say that last part lightly. As much as she wanted to sulk in her pain, that would not accomplish anything nor would it give her closure. Charlie was dead and he did what he did. She couldn’t change the past. But for someone to bring in his sister who has absolutely nothing to do with this cursed town? That was next level despicable. “I’m sorry mama, I got in my feelings but you brought me back. I’ll take care of it and I’ll take care of you.”

Rhonda wiped the tears away from her all too clouded eyes, using the warmth from Poppy’s body in her arms to guide her emotions back to a level plateau. “I don’t know if we can bring her here, she has nothing to do with us and she has a life of her own.” All this was still a lot for Ronnie to process. She held no personal responsibility to this mystery child but she held one to Charlie and one to Poppy and she knew that neither would let something like this lie. “But maybe take your friends just to check in on her? Warn her maybe? I don’t know. I’m not even sure really why I care so much. Maybe it’s because he would care.”

The elder woman could feel herself getting a little light headed, a common occurrence for her and it was becoming harder to think clearly. “You don’t have to do anything, Penelope. It’s likely just idle threats and I shouldn’t burden you with this. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I only know the girl's name.”

“The girl's name and the reservation she stays at. That’s more than enough information for me. I’m going to do it because it’s the right thing to do,” Penelope passionately decreed before assisting Rhonda up from the bed. “Here, let me help you. We’ve had a long morning and you need rest. I’ll take care of things. Promise.” Penelope had already decided. There was no convincing her any other way. Stubborn as a mule Charlie would say. She would find Mitena and try her best to protect her in any way she could. Definitely bringing her father’s gun with her. For Rhonda, for Charlie, and for herself. “I won’t let you down, mama.”

Perhaps along the way she’d find out more about Charlie. As scary and painful it was to find out new information about the love of her life, Poppy craved for more. She wanted to know everything about Charlie, including all the things he never told her. This journey would be a stepping stone in the right direction of reaching inner peace and simmering down the constant raging war inside her.

“Thank you, Poppy. You have no idea how much this means,” Rhonda followed the young girl's lead as she walked her towards her own bedroom for some rest. She hated this part of it; the exhaustion. Ronnie was a healthy and fit forty three year old woman that some younger would consider a hot mom, yet she could barely walk around her house without help. It was embarrassing.

Taking a seat on her own bed, she held onto Poppy’s hand. “Baby girl, the other day your Mom and I were in town, I was having a good sight day and we saw that girl, Natalia Belmonte from your class? She looked so lonely. So broken. Maybe ask her to go with you? I know she was friends with Charlie, what if she could help?”

Natalia Belmonte, the Queen Bee of her year, was friends with Charlie? Was Rhonda mistaken? This didn’t sound right at all. Still, even if it felt extremely far-fetched, this was something Charlie’s mom wanted her to do. There were so many questions flooding her brain but instead of protesting or asking the older woman why, she simply said, “Of course. I’ll make sure to see her first before grabbing the others.” With a frustrated sigh, Penelope helped Rhonda lay down before kissing her forehead, “I’ll make sure she’s okay. I’ll make sure they’re all okay.” This was the least she could do. Rhonda was allowing her to stay at her house and if she thought Natalia could be of use and Mitena needed saving then it was a no brainer that Poppy would do this. On top of her love for Rhonda, the dark haired beauty needed answers and it felt like she would find out some of them soon.

Cheers to finding Mitena Strongbow.

Charlie, what are you doing to me?


In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Part 1 out of 2
Timestamp: Proceeding after Viv/ReyRey leave the Northside
@Venus & @LovelyComplex





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While chaos had continued to ensue in the Belmonte household, the girl who had been just struck in the face had found solace behind the door of the luxurious home’s guest bedroom. She laid curled up in the middle of the queen-sized bed, silently crying in shame, guilt and anger. Shame, at having been discovered and photographed in such a compromising position. Guilt, at the realization that (although not fully responsible) she had contributed to Father Joe straying from his sacred vows time and time again. And, finally, anger at the way this whole situation had gone down in the first place.

After the way Cat had just treated and disrespected her, there was no way she would be staying in Edenridge any longer. Who was she to pass judgment on what she did or didn’t do? What gave her the right to lay a hand on Peach, when her own parents hadn’t even done so, ever? Hell, why had Sofi followed her into the church in the first place? And what had compelled her to pull out her stupid phone to take a picture of her and Joe in such a compromising position and then show it to her mom? It’s not like Tiff had done anything to deserve this type of behavior from her nosy cousin and her equally nosy daughter. All she had done was have her own personal fun, help her Uncle Tazzy and her Auntie Silvia, and mind her own business. And what she had gotten in return was being humiliated and exposed in front of her family.

That was the final straw.

Eventually, after she had tired herself out from crying, Tiffannie rose from the bed and began to pace around the room repeatedly. Her large pink suitcase and pink Hello Kitty travel bag now sat open atop the queen-sized bed, while different articles of clothing were being snatched from the closet and carelessly flung in their direction. In between sobs, sniffs and the wiping of tears, the blonde continued to gather her belongings from the bedroom. Once the vast majority of her items were strewn across the bed, she began the methodical process of folding and packing to fit everything into her luggage. There was only one thing on the blonde’s mind at the moment.

She was going back home to Los Angeles whether her parents wanted her to or not.

Once silence had fallen on the Belmonte home again, Tiffannie tiptoed to the bathroom across the hall with the intention of cleaning up and grabbing her remaining belongings. The shower she took and the ritual of applying her skincare products, although having served to improve her mood, also strengthened her resolve to carry out her escape plan. Once the last of her items had been securely packed, Peach solicited a Lyft drive, slowly and painfully carried her luggage down the stairs and left the home as quietly as she could. To avoid suspicions, she had decided to wait for her ride at the very beginning of the peaceful Scott Street, her slender frame being illuminated by the streetlight she was standing under.

Chase Hunter Warren was blasting dream trance in his car as he did his Lyft job, bringing people safely throughout Edenridge. The furthest he’s ever driven for this side gig was Pinehurst but most of his customers were drunk Edenridge teenagers just trying to get home. As he listened to Suliman by Infected Mushroom, he guzzled down a Red Bull. Ain’t nothing but the grind.

To be honest, Chase, who preferred being called his nickname TNT, was uninvolved with the happenings of his hometown and he could barely remember the day before because he barely got any sleep. All he did was work, work, work so that he could make a decent living and support his adoptive parents. He wore a chain necklace with a blue guitar pick, a white tee, a jean jacket, and black pants with plenty of accidental rips in it.

His knuckles were bruised from an incident earlier, but that was irrelevant. What was important was that someone needed a ride and he was on it. The probability of missing his target was slim to none. A block away he could see a blonde with a pink hoodie that exposed part of her midriff, dark gray velour sweatpants, Uggs, a large pink suitcase, a pink Hello Kitty bag, and sunglasses at night.

That’s a lot of pink.

“Christ,” he muttered to himself as he pulled up to the curb, where she stood under a streetlight looking like a lost, sad baby. Rolling the passenger window door, he leaned over to get a closer look at her. In a matter of seconds, he realized who it was. “Hey aren’t you… shit, what was your name… Tiff? Yeah, from yesterday?” It was clear TNT had no acknowledgement or memory of his disrespect toward her and her new friend, Kylee. When she didn’t respond, he called out, “Hey princess! Come on. I ain’t got all day.”

The sharp tone of her designated driver pulled Tiffannie back from the spaced-out thoughts she'd been engrossed in. She had looked up to greet the man and apologize for missing what he'd said when she recognized who was behind the wheel, and felt her heart sink like a lead balloon inside her chest. The last time she'd been a passenger for this particular driver, he had treated her and Kylee Grimm in such a rude and aggressive manner that she'd ended up silently crying for half the trip home. Even now, as she thought back to the previous night, Peach couldn't understand what was the trigger for the young man's behavior towards them. But whatever it was, she knew she wouldn’t be strong enough to endure it tonight. Her best bet? To try and find somebody else to take her to her destination.

“I guess I should cancel the trip and start looking for another driver," Tiffannie said with a sniff, her pink, glossy lower lip already wobbling dangerously as she removed her sunglasses to reveal puffy blue eyes. "I'm not having a good time right now, and I don't want to give you any more reasons to be mean to me and make me cry again like last time."

Biting his cheek, Chase reflected on the night before. Everything that was coming out of Kylee and this girl’s mouth was pure privilege, but today was a new day and neither girl deserved his aggressive behavior. Fins had asked him about his day and him being completely unapologetic spoke his truth. Fin gave him a good slap in the head and told him his father taught him better than that. “Finding drivers isn’t easy in this town and…” How could he make her feel calm without her feeling pressured? “… and, um, sorry, I guess. About yesterday.” Saying sorry was dumb but he could see Fin giving him that mama bear look that only meant grief for him.

Tiffannie blinked a few times, surprised at the change in demeanor from one day to the next. If she was anything like Natalia, she would hold his previous behavior against him even after this apology. But Peach wasn’t at all like her resentful cousin. She had a kind, gentle, forgiving heart, open to giving second chances to those who deserved them (except when it came to her father, but was neither here nor there at this moment). For all she knew, maybe he’d been having a bad day. She couldn’t completely judge someone over one interaction.

“That’s okay!” she responded with a shrug, offering the man a small, watery smile. “It’s all water under the bridge now. Thank you so much for apologizing, though. It really means a lot to me.”

After putting his car in park, Chase stepped out cautiously, yet steadily and approached the blonde, “No joke. I can be kind of a dick.” He offered to take her bags to put it in his trunk, “Can I make it up to you? I’m not fucking fancy but I could at least treat you to breakfast at the diner? Or I don’t know? Where do you want to go?”

The mention of being treated to something made Tiffannie instantly perk up. Getting spoiled, be it with gifts or food, was definitely one of her favorite things ever. “That would be absolutely amazing!” she exclaimed happily, her face visibly lighting up. “I love breakfast food!”

Man, this was awkward. He didn’t even know this girl. But hey, rarely do you get opportunities to apologize to a stranger. As if a sixth sense went off, he pulled Tiffannie out of the way of a kid speedily biking down the sidewalk, “Hey watch where you’re going, fuckhead! It’s ten at night! Da fuck you think this is?!”

Tiffannie had let out a little yelp at the sudden action, momentarily losing her balance and stumbling right into Chase’s chest. As he cursed out the kid who had nearly collided with her, she looked at him in wonder, and couldn’t help but laugh. “That was a close one!” she giggled, amused at both Chase’s heated reaction and his fast reflexes. “Thank you for saving me.”

“It was nothing,” Chase glanced down at the girl who was wrapped in his right arm staring up at him. He didn’t even process what happened. All he knew was something was coming at them and he didn’t want her to get hurt. With her being this close in proximity (literally up against him), he finally was able to take a look at her and see how attractive she really was. Honey hair and honey skin-- everything about her gave off a warm, gentle sweetness: from her sun-kissed lips to her blue eyes. Even in her eyes, they had the sweetest threads of caramel. Clearing his throat and releasing her, the southie masked his embarrassment with an apology, “Sorry for… touching you.” The girl shrugged. He really was horrible with these kinds of things. “Where were we…” He had lost his train of thought, as he tried to remember everything that happened before the bike. Stupid fucking bike.

“Oh shit, I don’t think you really know my name. Most call me TNT but uh, since you're born on this side, I’m Chase.” Oh wait, she might’ve known that since the Lyft app gives out his name as Chase W. Pulling out his old Jitterbug Smart2 phone, he opened up the app and read Tiffannie T. “And you’re Tiffannie…” He should get out of dodge while he still could. Trying to be amicable was not fucking easy. How the hell did Tov and Fin do it? He was all kinds of awkward and she probably could tell.

"Mhm! That’s me!" the girl proclaimed cheerfully, nodding enthusiastically at her savior. Smiling brightly, Tiff politely extended her hand out to the young man. “It’s nice to meet you, Chase! I’m actually not from here, but I stay with my mom’s side of the family down the road. So that counts, right?” she explained with a small shrug. The boy responded relatively confused as he stared at her hand, like he was debating if it was a trap or not.

In the midst of her rambling, Tiff remembered what Chase had just said at the beginning of his introduction, and she let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my God, you’re not going to believe this, but… I’m a TNT too!” she said with a small squeal, excitedly clapping her hands together at this cute little coincidence. “My full name is Tiffannie Noelle Taccone, so my initials are TNT too! This is so cool!”

“Heh… I guess it makes more sense for you than me. It’s a nickname for me. We southsiders - names mean you made your mark. Doesn’t matter how involved you are…” He hesitated, not knowing how aware this girl was of the gangs in this town. “... with the people, but a name is kinda’ like a badge. You have one? Cool, you’re not a nobody. You don’t? Best kill yourself now before someone else does.” He nervously chuckled. That might’ve been too intense. He should clean that up. Fast. Fin would slap his head if she knew he scarred an innocent girl. “I’m kidding! Yeah, ha, ha, funny joke. Anyways!” Chase rushed to the passenger side and opened the door for her, “My apologies. Diner food?”

Tiffannie nodded enthusiastically again, making sure to thank Chase for opening the door for her before taking a seat inside the vintage vehicle. As much as she wanted to avoid being nosy, the young woman couldn’t help how her eyes roamed around her new surroundings. The carpeted floor in front of her was littered with empty Red Bull cans she’d almost stepped on when boarding the vehicle, with one additional open can currently sitting on the cup holder between them. A pizza box rested atop the dash right in front of her, filling the car with its delicious, mouth-watering scent. And beside the pizza box, in the middle of the dash was a…

“Oh my God! It’s a Squirtle plushie!” she shrieked, immediately turning to Chase, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “Can I touch it? I love plushies! They’re so cute!”

With the trunk open, Chase had placed all things pink inside the back of his car. Suitcase, check. Hello Kitty bag, check. He heard her squeal. Closing the back trunk, he hustled to the driver seat and opened it, “What? What happened?” When he noticed she was swooning over his Squirtle, he gave an ‘ah’ before taking a seat. After getting situated he reached for the plushie and placed it on her lap. “How old are you anyway?” Was that too forward? Probably.

“Eighteen!” came Tiffannie’s prompt response as she occupied herself with examining and cuddling the adorable plushie in her hands. It was so soft and incredibly cute, like a kitten or a baby bunny. “I’m a Piscesssss: February birthday. What’s yours?”

“April 17. Sometimes Easter. Aries. Twenty.” He replied as if he was writing the answers on a questionnaire before starting his car up. Easing on the pedal, he began cruising to his destination completely leaving the topic of age to rest and focusing on his objective. The diner. Leaning back a little, while holding the wheel with his right hand, he looked to his phone to see what song was about to play.

His playlist was on shuffle and the song to come on was one that immediately triggered him. The first song his brother learned how to play on the guitar. Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne. Chase’s face grew pensive as he thought of all the lost dreams that got buried with his brother that awful night.

Grabbing his phone, he was quick to change the song to something that made him feel less like shit. FUCK YEAH, Chop Suey by System of a Down. When the drums started playing in the intro he tapped his hands on the wheel and then the build up game where all the other instruments joined and he started hardcore banging his head. With all the pent up aggression he held inside he yelled, “WAKE UP! (wake up). GRAB A BRUSH AND PUT A LITTLE MAKE-UP. HIDE THE SCARS TO FADE AWAY THE SHAKE-UP. (hide the scars to fade away the…) WHY’D YOU LEAVE THE KEYS UPON THE TABLE? HERE YOU GO CREATE ANOTHER FABLE.”

It wasn’t hard to miss the way Tiffannie flinched when Chase began bellowing out the words to the unrecognizable song on the radio, or how she discreetly covered her ears in an effort to preserve their integrity. As someone who was not a fan of heavy-sounding music, the blonde was finding herself in something of a nightmare situation of sorts. Of all the citizens of Edenridge, what were the odds that she’d find herself in a car with the person whose music tastes seemed to be the polar opposite of hers? Why couldn’t they just listen to something that wasn’t as violent, like Dua Lipa, or Ariana Grande, or Olivia Rodrigo, or throw it back with some Britney or Christina?

The thought of saying something definitely crossed the girl’s mind. But with the past night’s interaction still fresh in her mind, the last thing Peach wanted was to upset Chase and for him to get mean and make her cry again. So instead of politely requesting a change of genre or even for the radio to be turned off, she offered him another small smile and sucked it up. Just because she didn’t like the music didn’t mean that watching her driver let loose with it couldn’t be entertaining.

“I cry… when angels deserve to… DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” And so the song went on for another two minutes and thirteen seconds. An excruciating wait for someone who doesn’t fancy this type of music. When it was done Chase’s demeanor went back into relaxed mode. Turning the music off, he now chose to enjoy the calm after the storm. He had gotten so into his music that he forgot there was a girl next to him holding his squirtle. They were almost at their destination. Instead of starting a conversation the socially awkward southsider sat in the quiet, focusing his eyes on the road. Hopefully his guest didn’t mind the ride. He should’ve cleaned up. Then again, he didn’t actually care that much of the mess. Something was just telling him it was courtesy. Oh fucking well.

For the next two minutes, the young woman sat in silence, allowing her eardrums to be ruptured as the man sitting next to her continued to yell his heart out to the song. She kept her eyes on the road stretching out ahead of them to not make things awkward, but spectated Chase’s passionate rendition out of the corner of her eye and couldn’t hide how the corners of her mouth turned upwards. She always enjoyed watching people do what they liked, with no care to who was around to witness it. Not to mention that her driver yelling out songs instead of hurling insults around made for a much pleasant ride to their destination.

Yet, eventually, the song and the accompanying show came to an end, and Tiffannie let out a small, relieved breath. The sudden silence that fell between them was welcomed with open arms (which was saying something for a chatterbox like her). She thought about initiating conversation again, but after seeing how content Chase seemed to be, she decided against the idea and settled for enjoying the ride again, Squirtle plushie still resting securely on her lap.

Bringing himself down from the high of dance and song, Chase found himself once more in a silent car. Before the next song began to play he glanced over to check on his passenger. She was quiet. For the little time he knew her, her being quiet felt weird. In response to that realization, he grabbed his phone and closed his music app. Dropping his phone back down on the console, he continued to drive but this time in silence. Tapping his thumps on the wheel, he went over a few things to ask her. When he decided on the best route, he noted out loud, “So… you like pink, huh?” Damn, was that the best he had? Her liking pink was fucking obvious. She was the definition of pretty in pink.

“Oh my goodness, yes!” Peach replied excitedly, going from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds. Pink wasn’t just her favorite color ever-- it was her lifestyle. Pink and her went together like peaches and cream. “It’s, like, my favorite color ever! I love it so much that I always make sure to wear at least one pink item all the time! Though if I had to choose a shade, it would be hot pink, rose gold, or pink glitter! What about yours? Do you have a favorite color?”

There was a pause. This wasn’t something TNT had ever thought about. Did he have a favorite color? Or did he just like a certain aesthetic? He processed the question for a moment longer before deciding on his answer. “Yeah, I guess.”

“OOOOOOH! Let me guess!” she requested, putting her finger up to her chin while taking a moment to carefully study Chase’s grunge outfits, pair it to his music taste and the items strewn around the car to come up with her best educated guess. “Is ittttttt… Black?”

Grabbing his Red Bull and chugging the rest down, Chase watched the eager Tiff as she waited for his response like a kitten wanting to get pets. When his can was empty, he placed it back down and nodded, “Yuh. It goes with everything.” Once he answered, they had arrived at their destination. As he parked, he looked toward her and asked, “Is it that obvious?”

The blonde nodded vigorously again. “As obvious as it is that water gets you wet!” she chirped with a tinkling laugh, looking very excited to have been correct in her answer. Realizing they’d reached their destination, Tiffannie shifted her attention to the building in front of her, recognition suddenly sinking in. “Are we at Dolly’s? I love this place! They have the best strawberry cheesecake pancakes I’ve ever had! This is so good!”

“Best spot in town, ‘side from Godmothers,” Taking his key out of the ignition, TNT looked at the excitable Pomeranian-like girl. Placing his fist by his mouth, he cleared his throat, before reminding her, “This on me, okay?” and watching the eager girl nod. Man, being a gentleman was hard but Fin would likely expect a full report if she found out he saw the ‘prissy Disney princess on the other side of the tracks’ again. Yepp, that’s how he described Tiff when Fin interrogated him about his day. She was really good at him bringing up shit that was quite frankly, none of her business. Now, here he was: treating the barely legal blonde to breakfast at night.

Oh. He reached for the plushie to put it back on the dashboard, his hand accidentally grazing her thigh. Leaning forward so that he could position Squirtle in a way that it was facingTiff, Chase didn’t notice how much he was breaching her personal space. His scent was an off-brand of some expensive one, but still did the job of lasting all day as he ran around doing work. It was a mix of mineral salt and spicy ginger, which blendy with his natural scent. Think sweet, spicy, yet crisp and bold with woody undertones. He liked the smell, it wasn’t like Body Axe. It was a little exotic, making him a lot more charismatic than he actually was. Though, that wasn’t why he chose it. He chose it because it lasted all day. “Okay, let’s go.”

With that excited smile still in place, Tiffannie exited the car and entered the diner alongside Chase.

In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Part 3 out of 3
Timestamp: After Lighthouse Part 2
@BrutalBx & @LovelyComplex




____________________________________________________________________

The next morning, the rookie officer had tried to remain as quiet as possible so as to not disturb the sleeping beauty in his bed. With Gallows “Deep Waters” playing softly on his phone, Clay had bacon on the hob, eggs ready to go and a few other bits and pieces all cooked for a belly timber breakfast. No doubt, Cat would need to fill her stomach after the previous night and he himself had a big shift so he needed his sustenance.

In another world, this would be Clay’s ideal situation. Making breakfast for Cat after passionate nights together. Instead, she fell asleep in his arms on the couch and he carried her to his bed. He sat awake, just watching her for a while to make sure she didn’t throw up. Once he was sure she was ok, Clay went back to the couch and read a book! Ky and Wes rubbing off on him something fierce. He hadn’t slept at all save an hour or two.

At 7am on the dot, Caterina with her wild bed hair searched around with her hand for her phone. She was lying on her stomach. When she couldn’t find it, she pushed herself so that she was on her knees, only to be rewarded with a pounding headache, “Shit,” She muttered. While rubbing the sleep off her face with her right arm she stretched her body, her left arm rising high in the air. When she opened her eyes she realized she was not in her bedroom. Scanning around, she processed her surroundings and then the flood of memories started crashing into her, turning her foggy brain to wide awake and alert. “SHIT,” she repeated.

Although she did feel dizzy spells she needed to get out of Clay’s apartment fast. What if people saw them together? What would her father think if he found out she was at his apartment?! No one even knew about the divorce yet! Rolling off the bed rather ungracefully, crashing onto the floor, she found her dress and her clutch. Her clutch. Her phone. HER CHILDREN! Rushing for her purse she pulled out her phone only to be blinded by the light, “Fuck me.” Why were hangovers so brutal? Reviewing her messages, she saw a bunch of spam from Brooke asking how her night went with that fine piece of ass. Cat ignored her friend and searched for her sister’s number. Once she found Nina, she dialed and waited. As she waited, putting Nina on speaker and throwing the phone on the bed, she started stripping so that she could put her nude plunge bra and dress back on.

“Hey Cat!” Her sister chirped. She was such a goddamn morning person.

“Sorry I didn’t come by when I said I would, I got lost track of time. Thank you so much for watching the kids, I’ll be there soon, okay?” Where the hell was her bra?! Caterina searched around in with an aggressive and frantic urgency.

“No, no, don’t worry about it! Dads actually going to take care of Palermo for the next few days and I was thinking about gallivanting off with the kids to Cape Cod for the rest of the week. Take them to Water Wizz!” Nina happily cheered, honestly looking forward to a break away from Edenridge, “I know you’re going through a lot right now so it might be just what you need. A break.”

Huh. Maybe her sister knew about the divorce. Would make sense if Sofia told her now that she thought about it. Oh there it was. Grabbing her bra off Clay’s office chair, she started putting it on, “That’s really sweet of you, Beanie. Like you’re a fucking life savor. What time are you leaving? I can stop by with packed bags for them.”

Clay had managed to plate up two full plates of a night greasy breakfast of bacon, sausage, egg, beans and some black pudding. His family was Irish and one of the few things he enjoyed of his heritage were the traditional All Day Breakfast. He reached into the fridge and pulled out two small cans and placed them next to the food. Mango, Pineapple and Cayenne Pepper juice. It was the perfect blend when mixed with the greasy spoon special to sort out any hangover his houseguest had.

He could hear some shuffling coming from the bedroom and a smile crossed his face. She was awake, good. That would stop Cat getting pissed when Clay went in to wake her up. If there was one thing he had learned from his many lovers, it was never wake a woman when she wasn’t ready. He turned down the music, having heard enough of his fathers band to last a lifetime and made his way towards the bedroom door.

Pausing for a second, he could hear muffled voices. It was Cat on the phone. Sounded like Nina. Clay had come to know all the Belmontes over the years, perks of being neighbors and family friends. He opened up the door with the intention of silently motioning for food so as to not disturb the call but when the door crept opened the loudest sound came from his jaw hitting the floor.

There in all her glory was Cat, wearing nothing but her underwear, a plunging nude bra that accentuated her assets. Clay didn’t know where to look or whether he was to stop looking. All he knew was that her body was still as amazing as it was when he saw in that bikini so many summers past.

“Wow.”

“Are you with someone?” Nina asked as baby noises were heard on her end. She was likely nursing Angelina. Her question wasn’t anything like prying, just curious because she heard a noise. Nina wasn’t the nosy type - she was more a worrywart if anything.

“No! No. That might’ve been the tv..” Cat grabbed one of Clay’s pillows and darted it at him to get out. “..still on. Or my stomach. Man, I’m so famished. Anyways, how are the kids?” She snapped at the door still seeing a dumbfounded Clay. He’s seen her in a bikini before. It’s not like he hasn’t seen her body.

“We had a movie marathon night with the projector under the stars, we watched the Goofy movie, Toy Story, some great classics. I think they all needed cousin time. There was chatting and playing but nothing out of the norm.”

Clay batted the deadly flying pillow away like he was swatting a fly. He stared at her for a few moments longer, probably too long. “Oh yeah, I’ll, yeah.” He reached forward and closed the bedroom door back over again. He picked up the pillow and tossed it onto the couch as he made his way back to the kitchen, leaning down on the counter top.

This was crazy. This was a crazy situation. He looked very at the photo of the basketball squad and all of their shit eating grins, including Clay’s own. “Don’t fucking look at me like that. Get a haircut, all of you. Not you Clayton, your hair is pretty.” He turned back to look at the door again; on the other side of it was his half naked dream girl who he kissed the night before, he kissed Cat.

Holy shit.

After five minutes, the phone call did come to an end, Cat had put the white dress back on, tried to tame her wild hair down, and used the water by Clay’s bedside and the small toothbrush and toothpaste in her purse to brush her teeth (minimal spitting went inside the cup of water). Following that, she texted the young lad to not come into work until ten. There was no way in hell she’d have the Godmother open for eight. It’s okay though. They know she has a life and she’s a mother so there’s times the Godmother just won’t be open, randomly and out of the blue. She had a loyal clientele that loved her sandwiches. Like the boy in the room over. He supported her more than anyone else.

“Shit,” She looked at herself in the mirror, repeating her current mantra. This is really happening right now. She was losing control over herself and her life, and now she was spending the night at Clayton Costigan’s apartment! And they… turning away from the mirror, having thought about her and him… him and her… she fanned her face.

Nope!

That was just an in the moment thing. It was a mistake and wasn’t supposed to happen but since it did, it’s okay. There was no point in making it a big deal. They kissed. So what? He kisses any woman he gets the chance to. It wasn’t like she was special. And like he said, he didn’t have love in his life! This was exactly how she was when she was his age. No hard feelings. If she was in the same position as him, she would’ve done the same. Have you seen her? She was fucking hot. She knew it. He knew it. Those sparks? That electricity? The fire between them? That was nothing. There was nothing there. They had a good time last night. That’s all it was a good time.

Spending another five minutes mentally preparing herself for her day, Cat started making Clay’s bed and cleaning up after herself. He did her a favor taking care of her so the least she could do was not leave his room a mess. Making the bed turned into her cleaning up all other areas in his room. Another ten minutes passed before she was satisfied. Wiping her hands together, having emptied his basket filled with clean clothes, folded his clothes in the neatest ways, hanging up his more dress-like attire, putting the rest on his bed for him to put away, making sure there wasn’t garbage around like her beer from last night, and bringing light into the dark room, Cat came out of the room with her toothpaste water cup and his small garbage bag (that was in a garbage bin by his desk). “Where’s your trash?” She asked as she entered the room. “Sorry, the food’s probably cold now.”

Through the gap in the door he could see just how clean his room now was. It wasn’t even that clean when he moved in! Cat had gone over and above and he appreciated it. He walked from behind the counter and made his way over to Cat. Clay reached down and took the garbage bag from her, their fingers grazing lightly during the switch. “I’ll throw this out, thanks for that. Why don’t you grab some food? It’s still warm.” He turned and made his way out of the front door and dropped the bag into the trash. The fresh air coming in from the open door aired out the apartment quite well.

When he walked away, Cat closed the hand he touched, putting it behind her back, trying to not think too deeply of such a small thing. They’ve hugged before. They’ve talked in close proximity before. Why did something like that feel different? Focus, Cat. If she could mask her emotions in highschool, she sure as hell could do it right now. There was nothing there. While she waited she brought her glass to the sink, rinsed it, and placed it down, deciding to wash it after she eats and makes more dishes. Yes, her clutch was still in the bedroom but she had time and good smelling food to eat.

Once the air had made its way inside, Clay closed the door over and made his way back into the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty,” was Cat’s immediate response before adding, “But your food should do just the trick,” Cat grabbed her prepared plate and the fork beside it. Standing up and eating, she decided to use this chance to look at the rest of his apartment. It was… barren. To say the least. No color and barely any aesthetic.

Well, it made sense since he worked ridiculous amounts of hours but it also made her sad because it was kind of lackluster, lonely, and lifeless. To her, making a place feel like home was so crucial to feel okay with oneself. At least for her, the more she made a place feel hers, the better her mental health was. The one thing that stood out for her was the photo of him and his friends. Bringing her attention to it, she looked at all the faces, first her eyes falling on David, causing her to frown not out of dislike but out of sadness. Her gaze then fell on Clay and she smirked, “You haven’t aged a bit.”

“I think I look a little more distinguished.” Clay stood on the other side of the kitchen island, facing Cat as she ate her breakfast. He took a fork and began to dig into his own. “My hair got bigger,” He smiled to himself as they ate together, like a couple preparing for their day. This was a strange feeling. There was a warmth in his chest and it wasn’t just because of the hot food. He looked at Cat and he couldn’t help it; the way he felt. Even putting food into her mouth, she still took his breath away. “How is your breakfast?”

Taking another bite out of it, already feeling her hangover getting better, slowly but surely, she gave a flirtatious smile, completely innocent and no motive at all, “Well you know what they say,” she swallowed her food, fixing her hazel eyes onto him, “Clay Costigan always springs for breakfast.”

Such a silly catchphrase he had that she found adorable. There were little things he did that were so unique and so him, like speaking in third person from time to time. Now he would know that she paid attention to him. It was a small way to show she adored him without having to admit it, “It’s good, idiot. Thank you.”

Hearing someone else use his line would probably be laughable but coming out of Cat’s perfect mouth it was quite possibly the sexiest thing Clay had ever heard; even if it did end with her calling him an idiot. “Anytime.”

Their faces were close together again as they ate. She was sober now so there was no moral dilemma, at least for him. He could kiss those perfect lips again and not feel guilty or ashamed and she could do as she wanted. She could kiss him back, his preferred outcome or she could say no and that the previous night was a drunken mistake. If it was the latter he could live with it but he of course wouldn’t be happy. He didn’t know whether to breach the subject or not. She seemed happy, he didn’t want to ruin that.

“You want me to take you dancing sometime?”

Looking up from her plate, she blinked in response, trying to decide if she should say yes or no. There was part of her that wanted to straight out refuse because of how last night transpired. Cat knew if she said yes, things could get dangerous. Very, very dangerous, like sailing in a god awful storm, barely able to see what’s ahead. She didn’t know how to respond. She was still married but that would end without a hitch. She’d make sure of it. What she did know was she had a lot of fun and maybe it was okay to give into temptation?

It wasn’t like what they had was anything serious. It was all fun and games. Regardless, whichever way she did answer, she had to say it with confidence and not show the conflict in her mind. “Sure,” she shrugged, thinking it would be nice to have something to look forward to, “But we may not be able to go to the Afterlife for a while,” she chuckled at the thought. Oops, she almost killed a bitch. After moving her verbal chess piece, to survey his intentions, Cat took another bite of the delectable food. It was his move. Was he going to treat her just like every other girl? Or was there something else there?

Clay smiled. This was almost everything he wanted. “I know a lot of places we could go. It’s a date.” The fact that she said yes, meant she was seeing him. For the first time she was really seeing him.

Bam.

There it was, that pesky moral compass again. He had to ask her, they had to talk about it surely. They kissed and he couldn’t have been the only one that felt that electricity every time their bodies touched in any way. There was a fire, a desire, God he wanted it again.

“Do you wanna talk about last night?”

Placing her plate down, finished with her food, Caterina raised an eyebrow, “What’s there to talk about?” The best course of action was to not get his hopes up. This was the right thing to do because whatever last night was, was nothing special. “I was drunk, you took care of me, we had a little fun and we kissed.” She shrugged and started cleaning up the dishes. “I appreciate the company, Clay, and I’m not going to judge your lifestyle. If anything, I was just like you! I can get down with a casual thing, so don't worry your little head off. We will keep things sweet and simple.”

Looking away from him, she focused on scrubbing her plate with a sponge and soap, never dropping the facade. Confidence was key. “Just let me know when you can fit me in! I’m sure other women want your attention, you can’t leave them lonesome. Like Vanessa, I’m sure she’d love to see your face.” The more she said all this, the more her chest hurt. This was a sensation she wasn’t used to, at least not since her break up with her highschool sweetheart. Even then this felt worse. That was neither here nor there and as such, she proceeded to rinse the plate.

There it was. Sweet and simple. Two words that Clay had been described as far too many times. He didn’t want that with Cat; he always wanted more. She was acting like he managed his love life using an Outlook calendar. He did get around and he did so with a handful of her friends but they offered him something in return; for the not too brief moments he was with them, he felt that one thing that had always eluded him; Clay felt wanted. The problem was, what he really wanted was to be wanted by Cat.

Pulling himself up from the island top, he turned to look at her again. That white dress of hers was like a beacon, calling to him. He hadn’t given up for years and he certainly wasn’t going to now. Last night was not his only chance, just his first. He walked up behind the lady as she did the dishes and put his hands on her shoulders, letting his fingers trace down her arms almost as if they were dancing again. “My schedule will always be open for you, Miss Belmonte,” Clay spoke into her ear with a hushed voice. “I’m the guy for you. Put that under my name in your schedule.”

Fuck.

What was he up to? What was he trying to do to her? Who the hell was this person? She knew about Clay’s reputation. Of course she did, but his seductive charm was never directed to her this intensely, if at all. He was always so good at setting boundaries or maybe that was all her because up until yesterday she saw him as kid Clay and not man Clay. Or maybe she did see him as a man but chose to be oblivious on purpose? Goodness, he had her head all messed up not knowing what to think. Her body was heated and this, and him, were so hot she could feel a yearning, a craving, running through her veins and pulsating through her. It wasn’t like she could escape easily either. He was right behind her. His hot breath causing a tingly ache inside her. This wasn’t right. Right? Her and him?

Impulsively, after turning off the sink, she turned around with her wet hands, just choosing to act in the moment and stop thinking, “First of all, ew, don’t call me Miss Belmonte, you always call me Kitty,” her wet hands rested on his chest. She should push him away, she really should. If they went further, would she be any better than her husband? They were getting a divorce… so that was a good thing, but it still needed to be finalized.

Morals, what were morals?

“Secondly, what the fuck, Clay?” Her mind was hella’ fuzzy and all she could do was look at him, hearing her heartbeat through her eardrums, “… this… it’s just an infatuation…” she breathed, as she got lost in his strikingly intense gaze. At this point, her mask had dropped and it was clear Cat was trying to convince herself to not give in. She had a strong will and yet when she was with him, now in this moment, it was so hard to walk away. All she wanted to do was stay. This was bad as she found herself unable to move. For once, Cat Belmonte wanted something for herself and was getting hooked on a feeling. She didn’t want to lose him.

“Uh huh,” Clay placed his hands onto her hips and pulled her slowly even closer to him. “Infatuation.” He kissed her, God he kissed her properly. He kissed her the way that she had deserved all that time. Yet in his mind and his heart he knew, she wasn’t sure, there was a part of her holding it all back. He could see it in Cat’s eyes the moment before the lips met. He pulled away and took a step back away from her, allowing the woman’s body space to breathe. “I know it’s a lot, so I’ll wait. I’ve been waiting and I can carry on. When you’re sure of what you want, you know where I am. Until then, I’ll just be your favorite customer and maybe your friend too? If that’s what you want.”

There it was again. A kiss. This time not when she was falling apart and drunk. This time when first thing in the morning like a husband did before he left for work. This time when all she could do was see him. This time when they were alone in an apartment. His apartment.

Caterina was the most vulnerable she had ever felt during a kiss. None of her exes, not even Dexter, her highschool sweetheart, made her feel this way. It was so real and yet underneath it all, their primal desire hid behind the bushes, waiting to pounce. How could she think about what she wanted when all she could think about was those lips? A customer? A friend? Clay, can’t you see it’s way past that point? Past the point of no return. All he was doing was making it harder for her to think.

Fuck it.

Cat pushed him against the counter, “You can’t say that after you just kissed me, Clayton.” Her sharp eyes caught his, as she took on how handsome he was and that look, that stare, that smile got into her bones. How he made her shiver. She was repressed and he was toying with her! She was Caterina Belmonte and he was outdoing her in her own thing. Leaning against him, pressing her chest against his, she ran her hand through his hair and grabbed onto him bringing his head down so she could reach his lips. If he was going to kiss her, at least give her more than a few seconds.

There was no teasing anymore. No tracing of the lips and all innocence went right out the door. Rapidly her heart beat, as she gave him a long, hot-blooded caress. Emitting from her was raging passion, uncontainable desperation, and decidedly unvirginal eagerness.

Instead of him leading, like he had done in the Bacheta, it was her turn to kiss him like he wanted to be kissed. A different kind of dance. A dance between lovers and their lips. This gesture, sensual and outrageous, her whole body in motion with his, was to show him that all she needed to know was that he wanted her, truly wanted her, and if his intentions were pure and true, she would give him a chance. There was no battle in their lips. There was no war in how they felt. She saw him clear as day and he saw her. Although she wondered, did he see how imperfect she was? Did he care?

All she ever wanted in life was to seek union and closeness. One breath, one sensation, one fucking heated moment that could last forever. Timelessness like the still sea at night, coated by the luminous stars. The heat rose in her cheeks and before she freed him, she bit his bottom lip. Pulling her head away, she sassily and adorably scrunched her nose, “If you’re going to kiss me, I need you to put a little more effort into it,” she cheesily grinned, deciding for once it was time to not think about anyone else but herself. She may not know the future, but the present was pretty fucking hot right now. If she was his lighthouse, then he needed to show just that. How much she meant to him,

What does the boy who has everything say?

Cat was in Clay’s arms, willingly offering herself to him as he had offered himself to her. He knew in his heart of hearts that in her arms was where he was supposed to be. He had known that for his entire life. Now here they were, together locked in the fiery embrace of a passion unleashed. He couldn’t help but smile as she teased him with her words. This was the Kitty Cat he had known. This was the girl he saw on that boat. The real one.

“I can do that.”

He leaned in and took her lips between his and raising her ever so slightly off of the ground in his arms. She was as light as a feather. This caused the woman to chuckle as they kissed, clearly surprised at how fast he moved her. He pressed her body against the fridge, his hands wandering below her skirt and picking her leg up to wrap around him.

Dominated and handled in ways that would make a good girl go bad, Cat surrendered herself to this man that quite literally swept her off her feet. She could feel him, all of him, and she wanted more. This was something unprecedented to her but now that she had a taste, she knew she would never go back.

Clay had dreamed of this moment. With every taste of her skin, from her lips down her neck and shoulders, he could feel the fire growing more out of control. The waves were crashing down in his mind like a tsunami but that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. The only thing that did was her. Clay’s hand came to rest upon her throat and he gazed into her eyes one more time. This is what it looked like. To be wanted.

And when the moaning started coming out, she said the three words he so desperately needed to hear, in that smoky, fine like wine voice:

“I want you.”

“God, I want you too.”

Clay let out almost a giggle as his elation reared its head. He resumed kissing his lady, with his hands reaching her shoulders and sliding off her white dress. Instantly and fervently, she reached up and took his shirt off wanting to see all of him, like he saw all of her. Once all the clothes were off, she dug her nails deeply into his chest as he grabbed her from her bum and lifted her up. Like a cue on the dance floor, she tightly wrapped her legs around him, with a little assistance from him. They didn’t even manage to get beyond the couch before they were on the floor, tearing at each other, exploring each other, wanting each other.

Finally, his lighthouse had guided him home.

In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Part 1 out of 3
Timestamp: The Wednesday after the Lifeboat collab.
@BrutalBx & @LovelyComplex




____________________________________________________________________

How did Cat get to this point? She was sitting on the ground, on the curb, in front of a gas station drinking wine straight out of the bottle in one of her best short dresses. Staring out toward a dark void, she took another swig of her delectable poison. While she did so, someone accidentally bumped into her causing her to drop her bottle and spill some of the liquid on the floor, which in return pissed her off.

"FUCK!" She yelled out loud not caring who heard her. The Belmonte woman searched for the perpetrator only to realize she was once again alone in the lot. Whoever he or she was, were gone. How infuriating. Of course things would end in the stranger's favor.

Fucking asshole.

That was some good wine that was wasted and it pissed her right off. They could go straight to hell for all she cared.

After growling to herself, before standing up and declaring her plan, she dialed a number and waited for someone on the other line to answer: “Me, you, Afterlife. It's Latin Night, bitch." Hanging up on the other lady, not waiting for a response, Caterina stood up, bottle in hand, and marched to her car. She shouldn't drive, not with how much she drank, but that wasn't going to stop her. She was Caterina-fucking-Belmonte and she did what she wanted!

It seemed to be a rarity in these modern times that Clay managed to get off shift at a reasonable time. Thanks to staff shortages and a surge in crime, he was being forced to work pretty much every day and doing doubles at that. God bless Chief Broadus. He knew that the older man wasn’t particularly a fan of his but he had told Clay to finish up early and that Detective Nesta would ride with Sly for the rest of the night. Of course the young officer should’ve used the time to catch up on all the sleep he missed and he would but first, there was an IPA and a plate of wings at the Hole with his name on it.

He descended the short steps of the station, swinging his car keys around his fingertip. Clay knew he could leave the car at the bar once he drank and ate his fill. It was only a short walk to his still undecorated apartment but he would never risk drinking and driving. Once he had gotten to his car, he glanced up towards the gas station across the street. A white dress stood out like a beacon of light in the night. It looked like, Cat? Cat! It was her and she looked amazing but also very drunk. Clay stopped to watch her for a second, her movements were sharp and erratic. There was a wine bottle in her hand. She was out of it and about to get into a car. Oh fuck. What was she doing?!

Cat knew what the rational decision was. She should call a Lyft, Uber, or taxi. All which Cat did not do. Instead, she got in her car with the bottle and started her engine. If she died today, she died today. She did not give a fuck. Hopefully not though because she loved to dance especially during Latin night. At least kill her at the club by drinking too much. With fury beyond any god or goddess that existed, she placed the bottle between her legs, letting her dress rise up, and backed up. Once she was ready to exit the lot, she brought her windows down to feel the breeze and then flew like a succubus from hell heading to her next destination.

Clay jumped into his car, quickly turned on the engine and began following his once and former girl next door. The state she seemed to be in, there was no way she should’ve been behind a wheel and all it would take would be for one of his colleagues to see her, pull her over and that would be it or worse she could get into an accident. Cat had kids. The last thing she needed on her conscience or on her record was a drunk driving mark. She was going through too much right now and being a Belmonte wouldn’t save her from it. It would likely only exasperate it. So Clay kept his distance and didn’t turn in the little siren they gave him for whenever he was in a civilian car. Lucky for him he came top of his class for defensive driving so staying behind Cat was an easy feat considering she was driving like she was on Fury Road.

Fortunately for both the officer and the woman, Cat got to the Afterlife without a ticket and without crashing her car. Safe and sound. A blessing in disguise. When she was parked, she stumbled out, her wine bottle now empty and left behind and clutch purse in hand. From a distance she saw Brook and the widest, mischievous grin grew on her face. Even when the bitch lived in Boston, Brooke never refused a good time and for all Cat knew, she was already in the area up to no good. The two women ran to each other and gave one another a deep kiss on the lips. Intimate and tender. Only the best kisses for the best of friends.

“You called and here I am!" After pulling away from the Italian mama, Brook dramatically showcased her body and her dress, raising her hands and arms high in the air for added effect. Spirit fingers. “I already know you had a shit night,” She assessed, her eyes scanning her friend up and down, before hooking her arm on Cat’s, “Let’s go find some fuckfaces and have a good time, yeah? There’s fuckery to spread!”

Cat was in no position to argue since this is exactly what she wanted. And she was drunk. Very, very drunk. Her night had been emotional to say the least and the best release was forgetting all responsibility and having a good time with one of her best friends. This is what she wanted. To have a good time. "Is Harpie working tonight? I would love to see her face."

“Girl, Wednesdays are her days off. You know that!" Brooklyn held onto her friend as they made their way to the entrance of Afterlife to show their IDs and have the time of their lives. Brook could smell the amount of alcohol emitting from her friend but instead of commenting on it, she simply smiled and guided her into the best place on Earth.

"Oh shit you're right,” Cat came to the realization that Harper was mostly a Baylor shift, "Damn. I chose the wrong night to serve my man papers,” Cat admitted.

Brooklyn gasped at the news. “You fucking didn't!"

"I totally did," Caterina grinned, feeling accomplished at all the hardcore evidence she was able to slap her husband with. He was a cheating, lying, good-for-nothing scumbag that deserved to live the longest, most miserable life known to man, suffering hatred from his children and experiencing excruciating pain from here on out. Death was too forgiving for someone like him. Cat was a boss bitch who showed him exactly what he did wrong and what would happen to him if he didn't give her what she wanted. What she wants? A divorce, obviously. "I'm a free woman, Bee." Cat proudly proclaimed. Though they still had to finalize everything, she was basically single,

Brook's immediate response was excitable laughter as the two women entered the club to do some rumba, merengue, samba, salsa and so much more. “'Bout fucking time. He was dead weight, Sis. You know we're going hard tonight, right? Make sure whoever is babysitting your kids is prepared to watch them all day tomorrow. We're getting FUCKED UP!"

Widely beaming like she was a teen again, Cat admitted, "I wouldn't want anything less," as both women disappeared into the depths of the night club to have a good time.

What was once St Paul’s Cathedral, now stood a monument to decadence and excess; the Afterlife. No one really knows how the fire started. No one really knows what happened that day. All that people do know is that Father Winters was to blame. He failed to save so many people, Parrish goers and altar boys alike. Some say that this was the spark of true evil as Winters own son would join his father infamy as Charlie Decker; the purveyor of the Edenridge High Massacre. Where apples fall…

Clay had always been in two minds about this place. On the one hand, it was a sick club, always played great tunes, had a great vibe and was an awesome place for him to indulge in his desires for the fairer sex. On the other, it was known for the large amount of criminal dealings going on within its old limestone walls. It could definitely be a dangerous place for those of a certain kind. It made him worry for his sister, a hostess there who spent her time entertaining clients. He wouldn’t judge her, she was always her own person but he couldn’t help but worry. She was his little sister after all. At least he knew Lamb wasn’t working tonight. He had recorded a text from his Mom asking him to come round the house for a family dinner. Clay passed of course citing work; he had been avoiding any prolonged family time since his return to Edenridge.

He locked up his car and entered the Afterlife a few moments after Cat and Brook. Luckily for him, his stupid face was a well known amongst the regulars so he was allowed in without much of a fuss. Descending the stairs and onto the main floor, he noted that the lights were pulsating, bodies were writhing around and sweating to the beat of the live act on the large stage. It was a good crowd for a Wednesday. Clay made his way to the bar and ordered a bottled beer he could nurse as he surveyed the room for the good lady Cat.

Reaching the other end of the bar, after Brooke got stopped not by one person but three (little miss popular), the heartbreaker duo went to order drinks. Or well, more so Brooke than Cat. Cat was pretty good for now and distracted by the ambience. In awe, she looked around at the lights and the people. It had been too long since she was last here. With her mom’s diagnosis and being a mother of three, and can’t forget the fact that she was a business owner, Cat’s free time was few and far between. As she listened to the song, it was a merengue one nearing its end. She breathed in and out, taking in this peaceful moment, although everything around her was chaotic. Maybe that’s what she preferred or maybe that’s what she was used to.

Chaos.

Turning to Brooke she could see her friend was already getting comfortable with her mark. Damn, she moves fast. Looking past her friend and her target, she could see a familiar floof of hair. The Italian bombshell jumped in eagerness. Did he see her? She had to go say hi. What were the chances they’d be at the Afterlife on the same night?! "Brook, I’m going prowling. I’ll catch you whenever.” The friends exchanged smirks and glances before Cat happily pranced to her young friend. She waved at him when he saw her and then crashed right into him bringing him into a tight embrace, "Clayyyyyy, you have a day off? That’s new.”

For once he didn’t know what to do with a woman in his arms. Clay knew he had to do the right thing but he could at least enjoy a little bit of the wrong thing for a second right? He held her close, feeling the warmth of Cat’s body against his. She looked radiant, even in spite of her very obvious drunkenness. He held onto her waist partially because he was enjoying it but also because he didn’t want her to fall over. “Yeah, I was supposed to be working a double. Chief thought it’d be good for me to rest up. So of course I decided to come to Latin night.”

He couldn’t really tell Cat that he followed her here so that she didn’t wind up in the hospital or in jail. She’d probably take her heel off and put it through Clay’s eye. He brushed a strand of loose hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. God her smile was everything and this was the happiest he had seen her in weeks.

“Clay Costigan does love the salsa.”

"What about the bachata, hm?” As Caterina held Clay close, inches away from his face, she heard the song starting to transition into Prince Royce’s Carita de Inocente. A perfect song to do a slow, sensual dance to romantic lyrics. Of course Caterina was not thinking about that. All she was thinking about was she wanted to dance and her partner could be the one and only Clay Costigan. Pulling out of his hold, she grabbed onto his hands, "Whaddya say? Want to show this old lady your moves?” She playfully beamed. It was a phenomenon to see Cat turn her brain off just to enjoy the moment. It was something she mastered so her drinking didn’t turn into breakdowns and crying fits. Tugging onto him gently which inadvertently got him to stand up, she did a little shimmy, “Pleaseeeeee.”

Show this old lady your moves. There was a joke in there somewhere.

“Yes ma’am.”

He had to play along right? To avoid suspicion. To avoid her figuring out that he was there to stop her getting into trouble. Who was he kidding? He would do his best to control himself but Caterina Belmonte was asking him to dance, touching him and being happy. There was no way in hell that he was going to let this opportunity pass him by.

Clay took off his leather jacket and handed it to the barman that he knew. “Look after that for me, Harry. My good lady wants to dance.” Cat was quick to ease her clutch in that direction so she wasn’t stuck holding it (the bartender didn’t refuse it). Clay took a hold of Cat’s hand again and allowed her to lead them to where she would feel most comfortable on the dance floor, likely the biggest spotlight the Afterlife had. “Caramia,” He bowed his head to his queen.

"Precioso,” She rolled her eyes at his dramatics, even going the extra mile to do a curtsy with her white skirt. When Clay gestured to start in an open position, Cat shook her head in disagreement and closed it in, allowing him to wrap his arm around her body so that his palm was resting in the middle of her back. In response, she laid her arm over his and rested it near his shoulder. He grabbed onto her other hand, keeping a palm to palm hand hold.

The cool thing about Bachata was they could be versatile depending on each other’s skill levels. If he proved to be better than she expected they could go into an open position which would allow them to do complex footwork and turns. Cat preferred a bit of both because while open position allowed skill and talent, closed position allowed passion, connection, and intimacy. The biggest thing though was for each partner to completely focus on one another. Not the floor and not at any distractions. Just him and her staring deeply at each other. Bachata was about fun and since Clay was leading, she’d let him guide her as she got her whole body in motion to the upbeat, energetic dance.

Clay pulled her sharply into attention, taking the first step forward in their conjoined movements. He pressed his head against hers, their noses grazing as he allowed a free hand to track and caress her body. It flowed seamlessly down her arm onto her waist and hip and teased her bare thigh. The pairs’ hips began to move together in tandem, a slinky rotation that went perfectly with the rhythm of the music. He was surprised that she could still move so well based on the amount of booze she stunk of.

It only took a few seconds until Cat’s eyebrow raised as they moved to the music and the beat. The moves he was displaying was of someone who had been dancing like this for years, which meant she could really get creative and see if they complimented each other. They could go wild if they wanted to. Usually coordinating with a dance partner for the first time was a challenge but somehow, he gave her the right cues and she understood them immediately.

She pushed him away in a dramatic fashion and he stopped in his tracks: it was a tease. Clay took a hold of her hand and stretched her arm outright, he let his fingers trace from her wrist down the forearm and shoulder as he circled Cat’s body, inhaling the scent of her neck as he reached down to her thigh and knee and picked her leg up from behind. She spun in his arms and wrapped her aloft limp around his waist as they fell into a dip.

Their dancing chemistry was on fire. When she was back in position, he turned her around so that she was facing the crowd, she glanced up at him partly in shock and partly in amazement. Was Clay always this good with dancing? She did a slow, sensual sway with her hips, her backside up against his, and for a moment, she didn’t see the Clay she knew. She saw a side of him that perhaps she was in denial of? The idea of little Clay Costigan growing up wasn’t something that ever registered in her mind. He was the sweet brother-like kid that went streaking on her father’s boat. This Clay though? Turning around on his cue she was facing him once more and they were sliding on the floor to all the right measures, "Since when did you learn how to dance?” She called out over the music.

“Since I was about twelve, when I realized that you loved it. It got me curious,” It was a purely honest declaration. Clay remembered as a boy, Lamb going over to the Belmonte house for lessons from Cat. Clay would tag along usually because they were twins and they had to do everything together apparently. He would go chill in the garden with the men whilst the girls worked up a sweat. He would peep in and watch his beloved Cat move so gracefully, so powerfully. Maybe it was a way to win her heart? So of course he took lessons when he left for college and it did impress a lot of girls but none of them were the right one.

Cat’s gentle gaze was fixated on her dance partner as she took in his words. She didn’t understand what he saw in her. Clearly she wasn’t good enough if her husband, the man that was supposed to be devoted to her, could sleep around with every fucking slut out there. For someone to get into hobbies solely because someone else really enjoyed it was mind boggling. She loved to dance because it made her feel unshackled. Still, dancing wasn’t enough. The Godmother wasn’t enough. Hell, wine wasn’t enough. There was still this empty void inside her and when the song came to an end, Cat’s demeanor changed. She was so good at not thinking about these things when she drank but being in the presence of Clay and just him adoring her like he did, her hazel eyes grew watery.

Fuck. Don’t you fucking dare.

"Thank you for this… the dance. It really was nice.” Her heart was like a sinking ship as if it just hit an iceberg of emotions she’s been keeping to herself for so long. "Can you take me to the ladies room?” She needed to splash water on her face or something to keep it inside. She wasn’t going to cry. A Belmonte crying in a club? How embarrassing.

“Erm, yeah sure,” He expected the dance to end with the song as was commonplace but to see an entire shift in Cat’s being, that was something Clay had no forethought on. He took her by the hand and began guiding the small brunette through the crowded club. It became easy to maneuver because pretty much the entirety of the Afterlife’s eyes were on them. Cat and Clay’s Bachata had drawn the attention of many club goers. Their movements together, the synchronicity and sensuality was palpable and the atmosphere between them could’ve been cut with a knife.

Clay, for years, had wondered what it felt like to touch Cat in the way he had in the moments prior. The feel of her skin, the scent on her shoulder. He was under no illusions. He understood that his years of attempting to flirt would get him nowhere. She was not only a married woman but she had also watched him grow up. That was obviously a massive bump to overcome. Yet tonight, the way they danced, the way they moved, the way she looked at him with those hazel eyes; there was something there. Chemistry.

The pair arrived at the restroom and he released his hand from hers. “That was fun.”

"It was!” Cat forced a smile only to be met with a woman coming right out of the bathroom. Someone she didn’t expect to meet in person. One of the many lovers of her husband’s, soon to be ex husband. Nicole. The blonde bimbo working for HR in an insurance company. In NEW YORK. What was she doing here? Unless… "You little bitch.”

All grace went out the window because the girl that Cat was when people got near her high school sweetheart came out. Letting go of Clay’s hand, with hellfire in her eyes, Cat rushed to the woman grabbing onto her hair and slamming her against the bathroom door, "HE IS A FUCKING MARRIED MAN! BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?! YOU LITTLE FUCKING SLUT!”

The girls disappeared into the ladies’ bathroom as Cat was going to beat a bitch to a pulp, "YOU CAN FUCKING HAVE HIM YOU HOE! MAKE SURE YOU TELL YOUR HUSBAND!” There was a loud slam as Cat pushed her straight toward a stall with so much force. If it was anywhere else, this woman, who was still processing what was happening to her, would’ve cracked her head open.

Clay had no idea what was happening at that moment; they went from having a great time to Cat trying to kill some random woman in the bathroom. He couldn’t lie, crazy Cat was kind of a kink he would be interested in exploring but not tonight. He wrapped his arms around her flailing body and pulled the woman away from the bathroom, “Come on, babe let’s get you out of here.”

He realized the magnitude of that word, babe. He hadn’t realized it before he said it but now he tempered; the woman in his arms was not his girlfriend or even one of his fun friends, it was Cat Belmonte. She was not someone you called babe Willy nilly. It was obvious that she didn’t even recognize his words as she spat at the woman. “Ok that’s probably enough,” He pulled Cat away from the scene and back towards the bar. “Damn, Cat is crazy.”

"FUCKING ASSHOLE!”

Clay placed her gently onto one of the barstools and put one hand gently onto her face and rested the other on her thigh. “I have a pretty good idea what that was about, so how about you and I make like a tree and get out of here before one of my colleagues tries to arrest you huh?”

"Wouldn’t be the first time,” Caterina crossed her arms feeling her whole body shake in so much anger having flashbacks of the fight she had with her husband this very night. "I was fucking right to throw divorce papers in his face. Fucking hate his face. Fourteen years. Fourteen-fucking-years. I didn’t even want to marry him!” Standing up, getting her clutch and his jacket from the bartender, she gestured for Clay to follow her as she tossed both items to him, "Whatever lets leave, here’s my purse. Text Brooke,” And with that Cat stormed away.


In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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