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2 days ago
Current If you ever desire to get prepaid cards, avoid Green Dot at all costs. They charge you almost 8 bucks per month and yes, it is as frustrating as it sounds.
11 days ago
RIP Regis Philbin. May you find out who wants to be a millionaire in the afterlife.
13 likes
24 days ago
TO ALL THE PALM BEACH ROYALS, WE FUCKING MADE IT TO 700 POSTS! FUCK YEAH!
21 likes
2 mos ago
I hate having so many amazing RP ideas that I would love to see fully realized but lacking the conviction and time to commit to them.
14 likes
5 mos ago
Thanos, Hulk, and Iron made a group chat. They named it Snapchat.
11 likes

Bio




ᴷᵉⁿ || ²⁸ || ᶜᵃⁿᶜᵉʳ || ᴱᴺᶠᴾ || ᵂʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴿᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʳᵃˢʰ ᵐᵃⁿ


Most Recent Posts


T H E O D O R E B O N F A M I L L E
NECTAR'S KARAOKE BAR
Mood: WTF


As far as a night trying to balance having a good time with his best friends of both sides of the gender coin and making sure nobody gave Madéline the wrong kind of glance, especially not the kettle of Hawks that recently decided to consume a few tables and make more noise than everyone else combined. So far, they appeared to be settled whenever Nolan addressed them, so Theo was thankful for that, at least. Nolan was a decent enough guy and he had no problems with him, but ever the protective older twin, Theo wouldn’t let his guard down if he came looking Madéline’s way.

But Theo knew he was too tense. He knew that he was worrying too much. He knew that as soon as he saw Cassian that his blood was boiling, but Dana was with him and if he got out of hand, she could just rip him to shreds with that hazard of a jacket she has on.

So instead, Theo took in a breath. He wasn’t going to repeat the same mistake he made last week. He wasn’t going to allow himself to succumb to the impulses that landed everyone in hot water.

“Just have a good time,” he repeated to himself in a low, inaudible voice, looking around the table. He might’ve been on edge, but something about seeing Madéline smiling quelled that. Her being a literal deer in headlights in any other situation aside, if she was enjoying herself, maybe the least he could do was try the same?

Soon his attention fell on the stage once again as Darla took the microphone from Fiona, whose set was pretty good from what Theo heard. Darla soon handed it off to his brother, who Theo could only but smile at when he took his place in front of the piano. Bastien, who was arguably one of the best pianists at Meadow, always knew how to make the simple act of pushing a few keys seem like something out of Bach or some of those other dead musicians that Bas went on about.

To Bas, it was an art form and Theo watched him with as much interest as he always had shown.

And then he started singing. His voice was soothing, soft, like a Damien Rice who could pierce your soul with a single harmony.

Theo was never someone who ever felt truly moved by music -- live or pre-recorded. It wasn't that he couldn’t recognize its brilliance, but he didn’t what his brother had. He didn’t feel like the right note could make you surrender your entire being and give your all into feeling the performance. But, then again, not everyone heard what Theodore Bonfamille heard. Parts of the song grabbed his attention like Bas had fished for him specifically. Their eyes locked as though the only person in the room that honestly mattered was Theo.

In that moment, though if asked, he’d say something was caught in his eye, Theo quivered within himself, a few tears fell down his eyes, and he felt it. He, honest to any God out there, felt what Bas had always yammered on about music and why it was so important to him.

But possibly the biggest takeaway Theo got from his performance and every word he sang was a look into his brother’s mind and how maybe he didn’t trust his brother enough. It was no secret that Theo had received most of the negative affection from their mother and that weighed on him so heavily that, as Bastien pointed out quite literally, he formed walls around his heart, closed off most of everyone who wasn’t Connor and Shiloh, to ever knowing the effects of what she did -- what Adelaide did.

“No more, “ he mused, bowing his head into a fake action of sipping more of his beer as he wiped away a tear that came late to the party.

Theo stood up, looking to Shi and the others. “Gotta use the bathroom. Be back in a bit.” He told them, leaving his jacket at the table.

Squeezing through the crowds that lingered, the ginger male did his best not to knock into anyone as he made his way into the back of the room. A myriad of thoughts came and went, occupying his mind as he avoided bumping into anyone within the human maze, but none seemed to dominate the fact that he had Mackenna on his mind.

Somewhere between trying to convince himself that he was justified in getting physical with Cassian Lee and realizing it was, to quote what Mac might say, his fragile male ego, he eventually came to terms that not everything was about him and maybe -- just maybe -- Theodore oughta make it right.

“But how?” He mused, reaching the bar, leaning against the countertop and taking a seat in the stool behind him.

He turned and saw Cassian and Dana near Nolan. If he wasn’t about to do something stupid, he might even go up to them and start some half-assed process of apologizing. Now, that would be a hilarious story to tell Shi and Connor so they could laugh if he wasn’t seriously considering it. Instead, he took out his phone.

Sliding through all of the unanswered text messages that he ignored all week, most of which were from his mother, some from his professors, but to further his unusually lamenting state, none from Mac.

And enter dumb act in three, two, one…

The sounds of his fingers tapping away on his phone produced a message about ten seconds later.
Hey Mac,
Yeah, I don’t know what’s going to happen but this week was pretty crazy. Or maybe it wasn’t. Either way, I’m at Nectar’s. Everyone’s here: Nolan and his squad of obnoxious jocks, Nate and Dee with Jasper (1/5)
Yeah, like that’s a recipe for success. (2/5)
Anyway, seems like most of the idiots we all know are hanging about. (3/5)
And, I don’t know if you’re in the mood, but I’ll be here for a while if you want to stop by. (4/5)
If it convinces you any, I’m buying drinks for my friends. Just wouldn’t be the same without you here.(5/5)
From Your Least Favorite Ginger

When the wall of messages was sent, Theo felt better. And for all of three seconds, that bottomless pit feeling in his gut when AP was announced on Monday returned in full, but this time the only person Theo could blame was himself.

“Holy fuck. What did I just do?”



A T H E N A
UNIVERSITY OF SEATTLE
Goddess of Wisdom and War


The roaring engine of a black charger announced its arrival, peeling from one street corner, whipping itself into one lane. It didn’t show any signs of slowing down as the driver behind the wheel came full force into the parking lot, the car in question once again proving its monstrous speed as it went airborn. The moment it came into the parking lot, the emergency brake whipped it once more to the side and, as if something straight out of a Fast and Furious movie, the charger perfectly parallel parked close to one of the main buildings of the University of Seattle.

It rested in the lot for a few minutes, the engine still red hot with raw power and the driver pressing on the gas pedal just to let out some steam. It wasn’t until an additional five minutes did it cease and a leather-clad woman exited. Her entire outfit consisted of black pants, a slightly lighter blouse, and a tight leather jacket, which again she appeared to be straight out of some cheesy action flick.

Athena was anything but cheesy.

Her day wasn’t exactly what one would call ideal. Between having to testify at the courthouse at what might as well be the crack of dawn, she also had the semi-displeasure of getting questioned by Anubis, who granted wasn’t hard on the eyes, but he was good at his job. And that meant a bad day for anyone on the receiving end of his harsh, yet fair, line of questioning. Their game of intellectual tag was fun, but Athena could only think about how she hadn’t eaten anything all day. And how she hasn’t slept in two days. She was exhausted and, if she was being honest, in a mood where her patience was astronomically low. For those who know her, that meant she was going to be extra bitchy to those she didn’t like.

And to that one special person who, under normal circumstances, she had low tolerance levels for, might very well find themselves under her shoe after she kicked their ass. But hopefully, Ares won’t have to be embarrassed this early in the day.

“Of course, knowing him, he might just do that to himself with no involvement on my part.”

Setting the alarm for her charger, Athena strutted into the building where the conclave was set to happen and, rightly so, her mind drifted to the last time they were all called for one of these inconvenient meetings. And what an interesting occasion it was. The Morrigan, who apparently made herself defacto leader of calling the conclaves, had gathered the gods together in hopes of wondering who started the second, great world war. Athena couldn’t blame her nor does she blame her now, but it did raise some questions for the goddess of Wisdom and War.

If the reason for the last conclave was to gather intel about who caused World War II, then what could the reasons for it now be? Immediately, Athena had to wonder if something happened that none of them were aware of. And if that was that case, Athena might even venture a guess that one of gods from the many pantheons could secretly be up to no good.

As she walked into the room where some of the Gods and Goddesses were, she saw Ares and her eyes narrowed with suspicion. She knew he was always up to no good and his temper always made him sloppy. But he hasn’t done anything foolish in a while. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop herself from being cautious whenever she saw him. If there was one thing she learned from the many years being close to him, it was to never underestimate the Greek God of War.

SIghing out, Athena’s demeanor changed when she saw Zeus, her beloved father pull up from behind her, announcing proudly that he had brought what he called danishes. Cracking a smile, she approached him with a slightly less sour attitude and swiped one of the danishes as she proceeded further into the room. “Don’t mind if I do~” Athena shot her father a short wink.

She traversed the room to find where she was supposed to be seated, but before she could, that homebody God, Shango, whom she had seen in various dumpsters and park benches around town, had brought up the last conclave. “Dial it down a bit, Shango. Everyone knows the last Conclave was a poor excuse to get the pantheons back together.” She eyed him up and down, giving the Yoruban God of Fire and Lightning an approving look. “I’m happy to see that, at least from where I'm standing, your fashion sense has improved in the last seventy years.”





H E R A C L E S
CASA DE ACROPOLIS, SEATTLE
Divine Protector



It didn’t take long after Hermes poked fun at how he stayed on the floor and a few others leaving Casa De Acropolis until Heracles finally decided to get up. He was grateful for Hermes leaving so he could give himself a quick shower. Spending a few hours on top of a toilet bowl had left a lasting impression on his body odor, which was to say there was a lot of it and even by Herc’s standards, it was putrid.

After he cleaned himself, he spent some additional time grooming himself all over from head to toe. By doing so, the Divine Protector didn’t begin to think about just how much time he sacrificed for a presentable body. In other words, as he glanced down at his phone, he realized he was late. Not that he was one to be punctual, but in the event snacks were going to be a thing, there was no way in hell that he was going to miss out on the best grabs.

In the quickest run he ever took off in, Heracles ran to his room in his birthday suit, found the closest thing he could that resembled pants, which thankfully were his blue jeans he wore yesterday that didn’t smell of booze and mistakes he’ll regret later and his favorite silver hoodie. He didn’t bother with socks cause socks were for squares. He did, however, slip on his favorite air jordans. Why fuck with a classic, right?

As he made his way out his room, he shouted out to Apollo. “See you at the clave, sunshine!” He added a yahoo for good measure and was long gone, the sound of his Yakuza motorbike roaring out of the neighborhood.


He had zipped through the streets of Seattle and in no time, the God of Strength had made it to the University of Seattle, feeling great as the cold wind had spent a solid ten minutes pressing against his bare chest. It was such a test of will that there were moments he thought he would pull over to zip up his jacket, but Heracles wasn’t a pussy. Hardened nips or not, he never gave up on a challenge. And guess what? Heracles was #winning right now.

About a minute after arriving, Heracles heard the faintest sound of a familiar, if not frustrating, voice announce something about danishes. There was a similar energy to his own but it made his ire grow. “Zeus…” He muttered lowly, teeth gritting but he took in a breath. He didn’t have to think about Zeus or how much he wanted to punch that man. He didn’t have to entertain any negative thoughts. Today was about the good vibes and nothing but.

After reassuring himself, Heracles took off into a sprint, kicking the doors open as he jumped through it, tucking his arms and legs, rolling, and then kicking off his legs to momentarily launch himself into the air. He landed on his feet and his jacket sprung open, showing all who cared to watch him his bare chest.

He waved to them all, smiling. “Hello everyone!” He saluted those already inside and went along his business.

His first instinct was to scan the room for his squad, his bros - his family. And he found a few of them. He saw Hermes over by Kore and that Hypnos fellow. He almost went to them, but then, like the easily-distracted, attracted-to-shiny-things kind of man he was, Heracles found another that caught the sparkle in his sapphire eyes.

And on the receiving end of his new priorities came a strut of confidence towards unlikely potential friends, maybe good times. Who knew? “Good morning, ladies~” Heracles gave Bastet and Hathor a bright smile, which he hoped came across as charming. A lot of the times, he’s been told that it was more on the goofy side. “Come here often?” Oh yeah, because nobody has ever used that line.





A @metanoia & @HaleyTheRandom Collaboration Post
Featuring Nicholas & Billie Jean Grey



”They’re fighting again,” I say, leaning against the wall.

My door is cracked so it is to allow both the light from the living room to penetrate the darkness of my room and the screams from down the hall. And it wasn’t difficult for sound to reach my ears. Every night it’s been like this. Every night for a straight week I’ve heard him scream, yell, wail against the wall, continuously direct all of his ire at someone who met him with every bit of it and then some.

“So it’s my fault!” He yells to her, the tone of his voice with a surprising amount of shock in it, which was something he always had. Pretended that it wasn’t his fault when it was. I knew that and my siblings, they knew it too.

“Yes! You better take some responsibility! When it’s your fault, damn it--” The name, I couldn’t hear it. But it was a woman speaking. Her voice wasn’t soothing like it normally was. She was angry too. One thing I haven’t heard from her in quite some time.

It has to be his fault that she’s like this. The relaxed voice he remembered. She always was there for him. Even when her job demanded a lot of her attention, there was always something about REDACTED that made me feel safe, feel not like I was a burden to him. To feel like I wasn’t unwanted. I don’t understand, though. What was it about them? I know them. I know who they are, but their faces…

“Avi… Riel...Ona…” I say, whisper almost as I try to pinpoint it.

The door is cracked and I still can hear their violent outbursts.

And then suddenly…


SMASH!

A pulsating surge of unmeasurable agony began to flow through Nicholas’ left arm as his eyes, which were still full of crust and only half-open, bore witness to seeing his fist half-submerged into the drywall. Blood wasn’t gushing out rapidly but he did see the crimson liquid stream out slowly from the sides of his fist and paint the wall with his blood.

“Well, that’s just fucking fantastic!” Nicholas rarely cursed. He found it to be uncivilized, but when the moment called for it, sometimes saying fuck was the only recourse he had.

After he grabbed a nearby shirt to firmly wrap his hand up in, he started to reflect on the intense dream he just experienced.

That wasn’t the way he wanted to wake up, but more importantly, exactly what kind of dream was that? Nicholas has had some weird ones lately. Ever since the scavenger hunt, those odd visions of seeing people he thought he knew (or what felt like he knew them) were starting to be more of a frequent thing. Before, it was one every other week, seeing flashes of events that felt like memories but clearly weren’t. But now, they didn’t stop at just being flashes. He was having intense, lucid dreams that were telling full events as though he lived them, as though..

“As though they were my mem--” Nicholas was interrupted mid-thought, blood dripping down onto his lap. Nicholas stood up and was wearing a pair of blue sweats.

Pounding on the wooden door with every bit of strength she had, Billie was liable to wake up the whole floor of sleeping students. Fortunately for everyone involved, Nicholas decided to answer his door at the first knock this go around. Hair still in a messy bun, not a smudge of makeup on, Billie stood in the doorway of her brother's room with a serious expression.

When he opened the door, he wanted to say he was shocked, but his sister never did like to notify him whenever she stopped by. “Of course, it’s you,” he chuckled, “isn’t it a bit early for you to be conscious?” He asked, half-joking.

”I haven’t slept in days and when I finally do --” growling, the young woman lowered her voice so that no one other than her brother could hear her. ”Nick,” she said, her voice as fake calm as she could muster “- can you please let me in. I really need to talk to you.”

You don’t usually ask for permission. He mused, looking at her with a rare show of concern for his sister. She normally acted wild and unhinged, but something about the way she spoke was unnerving. One might even say she was starting to worry him. To think, she actually asked for anything of him. She never did that.

Nevertheless, he walked back into his dorm, holding his injured left hand close to him, though a trail of blood followed where he stepped. “By all means, enter my domain, sister!” He called out to her, singing alone as his uninjured arm waved above him in the typical dramatic Nicholas Grey fashion.

Lost in her own swirling thoughts and emotions, it took a few extra moments for Billie to notice Nicholas’s injured hand. ”Okay my shit can wait. What happened with your hand?”

Nicholas looked down at his uninjured hand. “Looks fine to me,” he said, raising it up so Billie could get a good view of it. “See? Just an ordinary hand!”

Rolling her eyes as she flopped down on the foot of his bed, Billie glared at her brother. ”Don’t be a smartass. You’re bleeding.”

He shrugged. “It’s nothing for you to worry about,” he said, dismissing her concern. He, of course, appreciated it, but what he spoke was the truth. A simple cut on a few of his knuckles wasn’t anything for anyone to concern themselves with, especially Billie and how worse for wear she already appeared to be. “I just cracked it against the wall over there when I woke up.” Nicholas gestured towards the literal hole in the wall behind Billie with his shirt-wrapped hand.

Turning to look at the wall, Billie pursed her lips and nodded her head approvingly. ”Not bad.” Crossing her legs, she took a deep breath while trying to figure out what to say.

”I had another dream last night. And it wasn’t like the other dreams. It wasn’t even like the other dream that wasn’t like the other dream. It was like… Nick. I don’t think the family we remember is actually our family. I don’t know how to explain it but the picture on my nightstand of us and mom and dad i-is… Nick, it’s fucking fake!”

And suddenly the stinging pain baby of a cut on his hand seemed to pale in comparison to Billie’s current train of thought. “Okay, slow down there.” He raised up his hand, trying to process everything she was saying and attempted to dissect it in a way that he could digest it. “So, you had another dream, which now makes you believe our parents aren’t our real parents?” Yeah, like that was the craziest thing he’s heard or flat out seen in the past hour alone. “You do realize how insane that sounds, right?”

”I do know. Thanks.” Taking a second to compose herself, Billie looked her brother in the eye before continuing to speak. ”I don’t know how to explain it. All I know is that the other day during the interview with Ms. Lincoln, she got me started on the subject of you and that stupid ass redhead you’re infatuated with.” Seeing the expression change on her brother's face caused her to stop speaking for the second time. ”If you defend her or give me the ‘she’s a good person speech’ I will kick your ass. BUT ANYWAY. I was ranting and I was going on and on about how you deserved someone perfect for you and I was looking for someone to compare this imaginary person to and it… Her name’s Fiona. We have a sister. Her name’s Fiona. She’s the same girl from the dance class dreams and the pancake dreams and she was in my dream last night helping me poke fun at the adults in the room down the hall because they were arguing over something and apparently they’re our parents.”

After her ramble, there was an awkward silence. ”So yeah! I have no actual evidence but these aren’t dreams. They feel like--”

“Memories,” he interjected without thinking. It just came out and now some missing puzzle pieces were starting to fill in.. “You were going to say they feel like memories, weren’t you?” Deep in his gut, Nicholas felt it twist and contort unto itself. It was like the bottomless pit was getting deeper the moment he started to piece his own dream with hers. Or maybe he should just call it a memory. “Tell me about the dream you had. Was the room dark with some light peaking through the cracked door?”

”Yeah. It was like… I was on my bed and the girl - Fiona, she walked through the door and she didn’t close it back all the way. So it was like a light from the kitchen or something was shining through and --- yeah. There was a light. Why?”

His response was a thoughtful hum and he bit his uninjured thumb, pondering both what she described and what he saw no less than an hour ago. “It’s just,” he began, stopping himself to ponder for a half of a moment longer, “what you’re describing is nearly identical to what I just dreamt and why I have this lovely crimson hand. I drept I was in that room, hearing two people who I feel like I knew, shouting at each other, blaming each other for something. I thought maybe you were just on one of your wild goose chases, but now…”

"Did the guy sound like he was begging for forgiveness but kinda blaming it on her? And she kinda sounded heartbroken and pissed?"

As he shrugged, Nicholas thought about it for a moment. His dreams typically didn’t linger about like this one was. “I suppose that’s one way of interpreting his tone of voice,” he said, adding another shrug of his shoulders for good measure.

Sighing again, it was now Billie’s turn to shrug her shoulders. ”Does any of this make any sense to you? Like at all?”

He shook his head, heavily sighing out a frustrated breath. The preferable answer would be yes, but Nicholas couldn’t make heads or tails of any of this. Both of them tended to be very lucid dreamers (more Billie than Nicholas), but for the twins to have the same dream and for the details to sync up around the same time -- “I wish I could quell both of our growing anxiety, but I earnestly have no clue about any of this.”

”Yeah… it’s kinda weird.” Pursing her lips, Billie hopped down off of her brother's bed. ”I’m gonna go take a nap and pretend this didn’t happen!” With a little extra excitement in her step as she went, Billie opened the door before turning back. ”Oh, Nick? What do you think I should wear to the party?”

“Party? What party?” Nicholas knew feigning ignorance was unlike him, but as far as he knew, only those who were on the small invite list were supposed to know about the party. And as much as he loved his sister, he knew for damn certain she wasn’t on said list, especially given who was going to be there.

”The one that She Who Must Not Be Named helped orchestrate, obviously.” Looking at her brother, it was easy to see that he wouldn’t be giving any information up - but that was fine. She knew the location and the time that the party started, and that was all that Billie needed. ”I’ll see you there,” she said, winking at him as she closed the door.

Nicholas didn’t quite understand what just happened. How did Billie find out? And why didn’t he just tell her not to come? “No use worrying about that, I guess. Besides…” Nicholas looked down at his injured hand. As far as immediate concerns, he had to get those cuts patched up, which meant he’ll be spending the next couple of hours getting looked after by the nurse, which also meant Nicholas might be fashionably late to the party.

Shrugging, he knew it couldn’t be helped.

A few minutes later after finding his shoes and a decent enough shirt, Nicholas left for the health center and all the while he wondered if it was in his best interest to let TJ and the others know that word about the party reached one of the few people they didn’t want there or if playing ignorant was his best play.

“Eh, I’ll make up my mind on the way.”


H E R A C L E S
CASA DE ACROPOLIS, SEATTLE
Divine Protector


Interactions: @KZOMBI3, @Danvers


Last night at the self-described Epicenter of Awesomeness (AKA Acropolis) the carnage left behind of yet another party by the self-described “Bro Squad™”. Their parties, at least among those who were either in college, about to go to college, or just loved a good time, knew of the wild shindigs that often got out of control - especially when it came to the sheer madness Dionysus brought to every single one and the trio of Heracles, Apollo, and Hermes, who all just liked to do dumb shit that they probably should ease up. But yolo, right!?

Either way, all of the fun climaxed just a few hours before sunrise when the fun zone transitioned into “I’m just going to sleep here”. While some made it to a bed or found a spot on a couch and others just kind of found a nice, comfortable spot on the cushioned floor, there were...others who didn’t make it that far. Yes, some were splayed out outside, bodies hanging from the balcony, and then you had Hermes and Heracles…

SLAM!

Every bone from the waist down all cracked and popped when his feet lost their position on the window seal and his stiff back sounding off, but more importantly, Heracles, the Hero of Athens, grunted in a very non-heroic way that was reminiscent of a screaming girl who just lost her balloon to Zeus’s wind.

“Jesus, Coco,” Heracles angrily said, slowly getting up, only now coming to the realization that one of his most prized possessions had a multi-hour stay in some not-so-clean toilet water. The unhealthy shade of dark green inside the bowl gave him some not so kid-friendly thoughts as to what might have happened in the few hours Herc was down and out. “Yeah, probably not a good idea to think about it..”

As he rolled off the toilet, even the sound of his lion getting out of the bowl made him want to puke, but then he saw Coco and all was well in the world, not even a shriveled up cat could bring him down -- or at least her backside as her heels clacked away out of the washroom.

Heracles lay on the cold tile floor for a few moments, thinking about a time when his body didn’t ache so goddamn much. And he couldn’t help but go to before the Colossus was a factor, when it hadn’t threatened their very existence by stripping every pantheon of their power. Heracles couldn’t stop himself but wonder if there was ever going to be a day that he could return to Mount Olympus.

And then he remembered how miserable it was taking orders from Zeus and his inner-circle. Suddenly, having aching bones didn’t seem so bad, not if he had the freedom to do whatever the fuck it was he wanted to.

“Hey, Hermes!” He called out, still splayed on the cold floor, “you still alive over there?” His neck arched a few inches to see what looked like his friend’s small feet hanging off the edge of the tub. “C’mon, don’t play with me! Don’t make me give you my best party boy impression.” On second thought, maybe Hermes would like that.


Not more than five minutes after the sizzling hot apps arrived did Nate spot Dee approach their table. At first, he smiled big, waving over to her. It would be difficult for her to spot him since Nate had the benefit of long, lanky arms. That paired with a recognizable forehead and a hairline unique to him and him alone, allowed Dee to follow his gesture.

And, the second Dee had stepped to the side, a smile beaming with confidence and relief soon withdrew itself somewhat into a tight unease smile, yet not as trembling as one might expect. He was on a euphoric high, though granted the awkwardness of the kiss with Millie Jean left a lot to be desired for. Still, nothing could have prepared him for seeing Jasper. It was a surprise and Nate was still trying to figure out if he liked not knowing or if he wished Dee gave him a heads up.

Yeah, she probably didn’t tell me so she could see the look on both of our faces.

Whichever was the case, it’s not like the wound of the video was fresh and Nate promised Mandy that he wouldn’t think about it anymore. He promised her that, despite everything, he’ll have fun tonight.

Yeah, easier said than done.

After the waitress took Jasper’s order, Nate waved at Jasper. “You two look nice.” NIce? No, they look hot. But, of course, there was no way Nate could say that right off the bat, right? Right? “Did you guys find the way here alright?” Nate asked, mentally kicking himself in the groin. “I mean, obviously you did cause you’re here and not stranded somewhere in town.” His nervous laughter awkwardly transitioned into him focusing on the chips and salsa, snacking on a few of them in hopes that what just happened might fade off like a bad dream.

That said, there are still roleplaying forums that have more users and more activity than the Guild. The staff team and I have started looking into ways we can 'advertise' the site more and siphon some folks from the greater play-by-post roleplaying community.

Suggestions are also welcome, by the by.


A lot of folks like bbcode options. I know it's not important to those who prefer writing over aesthetics (don't worry I'm not going to make it about that right now). Nevertheless, maybe having more options in addition to what @Inkarnate suggested might entice new members to join.
In Mahz's Dev Journal 12 days ago Forum: News
I'll be taking the forum down this weekend to upgrade the database and syncing the server up with the code.

Just for clarification, will it be down for the entire weekend and what days will you be taking it down?

Also will this result in us potentially losing stuff?


In that case, should the above still be in cards, I'd like to quote my question that never was answered. @Mahz @LegendBegins
I own a coffee mug that has a low key dirty joke on it and I keep it displayed proudly in my ultra-religious “modest is hottest” house and my family has no idea what it means


I have a mug like that, though the joke is less dirty and more childish.

"Wake up
Drink Coffee
💩
Be Awesome"

is what it says
© 2007-2017
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