Recent Statuses

4 mos ago
RIP Regis Philbin. May you find out who wants to be a millionaire in the afterlife.
5 mos ago
6 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.
9 mos ago
Thanos, Hulk, and Iron made a group chat. They named it Snapchat.
9 mos ago
Due to the quarantine, I'll only be telling inside jokes.



Most Recent Posts

Joanna Penelope Hart || Female || FC: Amanda Arcuri || Pink Cabin || some soft purple color
Nathaniel Harvey BLake III || Male || FC: Grant Gustin || Green || some green/bluish color

After he made certain that Rico hadn’t lost his mind, Hunter shook his head at how quickly Rico was acting like himself. From the outside, it might seem like he hit his head at some point in his life, but this was just how Enrique Nunez operated. Whether it was a fight, his guitar breaking, or nearly getting ran over, for as long as Hunter knew Rico -- which was a long time compared to how long he’s known his other best bros at Rosefell -- he knew his friend was fine when he started putting on that frequently annoying charm of his.

And as he watched Suave Rico take control of Enrique, he not only saw the way he took the girl’s hand and kissed it, but spouting a smooth as fuck line in Spanish. If it weren’t for Rico teaching him some Spanish, Hunter would emulate visible confusion in any Spanish-speaking conversation. And at times like these, he wished he didn’t understand any words or phrases from that language.

With a heavy sigh, he approached Rico from behind, patting his friend firmly on the shoulders, and smiled at the girl with the colorful hair and awfully short dress. Even he couldn’t help but allow himself the benefit of a prolonged look. Remember Niki, Hunter! He had to firmly remind himself.

“Right,” he made a mental note and backed off, walking a few feet away. “I’ll leave you to it, then, Rico,” he said, turning around. He gave the colorful girl one more look, giving her a light wink. “Adios amigo~”

Hunter stood at the entrance for a few moments, seeing the colors of the banner. He muttered something under a breath, which was directed at the Liberty High colors. He didn’t care to linger about and stepped inside the familiar halls. No amount of the cheap Febreze knockoff that the janitor used could cover up the scent of aged gum and dried up shit. In a bizarre way, that smell brought a small smile to the boy’s face.

He kept walking until he saw a crowd gathered around where he assumed the nametags were gonna be. A few feet away from it on his left, he saw another one of his friends and he immediately laughed at the name tag. “Why hello, Colin! It really is a pleasure to meet you,” he said with a gutty laugh and Colin Gallagher just flipped him off.

“Fuck you, Quinn!” He nastily replied.

The two boys, who stood at equal height, laughed and smiled. They greeted each other with a clapping handshake, and a pound hug, shoulder pumping and each patting the other’s back.

“So what’s up, bro?” Colin asked, returning to his slouching posture against the lockers behind him.

“Just got to school. Ran into Rico moments after he almost ran over.”

Colin had about ten seconds of hard laughter that forced him to cough a few times. “Shit, poor Freako!” His laughter continued but, as he stopped, Colin blink-stared at Hunter. “Wait, you said almost?”

Hunter nodded. “He’s a lucky guy. The chick behind the wheel stopped before he met his maker.” Hunter began thinking about Rico’s comments after. “But you know Rico. When he saw a pretty girl, he was more focused on that than he was about how close he came to death.”

Colin snickered. “Well was she?”

“Was she what?”

“Hot! Surely you looked, too.” Hunter shrugged and Colin hit his shoulder jokingly. “Yeah, you did. Describe her man! I need the visuals.”

After a few seconds of uncertain hesitation, Hunter caved. “Pink hair, pale face, a dress that would probably get her suspended if this school cared about decency. And her hips man -- she’s got them Kylie Jenner hips.”

Yeah okay, Hunter might’ve taken in more than he should’ve. He honestly felt guilty about how much of that pink-haired pixie’s body he took in, especially with Niki in his mind. His stomach tightened up as if to physically remind him that what he did was a bad thing.

He heard Colin let out a whistle and stroke his chin with a smirk. “I’ll have to be on the lookout for this chick. Might have to introduce myself.”

“Bro, aren’t you with Spice?”

Hunter’s question didn’t seem to matter to Colin as he gave his friend a shrug. “Hey, what Steph doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, not like she’s innocent of fooling around with people too, ain’t that right?” From the way Hunter glared at him gave Colin enough reason to cool it.

“Yeah, whatever man. Anyway, I gotta find my name tag. I’ll hit you up later.”

“Lit!” They bumped fists and gave each other a quick pound hug. “Be sure to bring me some of your dad’s powder. I’m almost out!” Colin called out as Hunter gave him a thumbs up.

As Hunter laid in his crappy twin bed, he stared at his phone and ignored his alarm clock that had been blaring in his right ear for nearly three minutes. He was staring at his Instagram profile, but not his main one that had regular comments from Spike, Minty, Dee, and everyone he knew from school. He was in a daze as he couldn’t peel his eyes away from his secret account, FreeWadey.

Over the summer, not even three weeks after his relationship with Minty ended, Hunter went through a phase of just not caring about who he hurt. There was a lot of people who were just used for sex and for a while, he enjoyed it. When it all came down to it, he was feeling better by filling the void by whatever thot fell for the cheap lines Spike told him to use. Double dates and flings came and went, but that empty feeling didn’t. It persisted like a sprained ankle and it wouldn’t go away.

It’s why Hunter retreated to the internet. It was easy and being whoever he wanted to bring him some fulfillment. So he made the second Instagram account. Hardly anyone knew his middle name and nobody would think twice if he used a photo of him from three years ago, dressed in a killer whale costume. It was stupid but it gave him the secret identity he needed.

He spent a week just going around some artsy accounts, taking in that side of Instagram. Secretly, he had a thing for art. Half the time, he didn’t understand it, but he enjoyed looking at it. But then he came across one profile that drew him in.

Throughout the entire summer, Hunter spent it filling a void with someone he felt a connection with. Their name was Niki. He didn’t need any more than that. They were beautiful and, in a time when he needed something different and a reason to not feel so shitty, especially when his home life was shit, Hunter found a sanctuary in their eyes, feeling safe, feeling captivated. Niki was the person he could divulge some thoughts he never could tell anyone.

And admittedly, Hunter’s own confusion about who he was attracted to has always been something he struggled with. Niki never made him feel like he had to pretend.

“But now, it’s back to the real world.” He sighed out heavily.

Hunter stood up and finally shut off his alarm.

With a stretch, he dragged his feet across his dirty floor until he heard his phone go off. As the light lit up and he checked the notification, he saw it was for his second Insta. He read it and he smiled.

Thank you! ♥ I hope yours is amazing as well! Text me if you ever feel it’ll be too much, okay?

As soon as he responded and sent that message, his stomach was the epicenter of a swarm of butterflies, fluttering inside him, lifting him up and filling him with the right amount of serotonin to make whatever negative thoughts he had disappeared. Such a simple gesture, yet Hunter’s mood had taken a complete 180. He was moments away from letting a sour expression carry him all the way to the kitchen and into his car, but now, as he grabbed a protein bar from the cupboard, snagged his keys from a bowl by the door, and drove off in his Eclipse, Hunter wasn’t feeling depressed or anything of the sort.

He was smiling and ready to face the day in whatever it brought.


Hunter lived close to Rosefell, so getting there was a matter of not driving too crazy in the seven minutes it took him to get from his house to the school. The problem, of course, wasn’t him but rather the backed up traffic. He was less than thirty feet away from the parking lot and he found himself proceeding like a snail. The time he spent honking at the quote-unquote “excellent drivers” went wasted after the first seven. Even someone as impatient as Hunter knew there was no point.

So he allowed himself to relax. He turned on some Underoath and blared his stereo. It was chaotic and noisy, but it relaxed him. And he definitely had his reasons. If nothing else, Liberty High shut down and the students who were expected to attend their fancy school were now going to join those who didn’t get a say in which high school they attended.

When Hunter first learned of this, he didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t have anything against anyone from Liberty. He remembered a few of them when Rosefell would kick their ass at state and how they also beat them one year. The rivalry was intense but healthy. Hunter sometimes took it too far, but it was all in the name of fun. Despite this, Hunter couldn’t help but think about the rest of that email and how the Rosefell students had to serve as tour guides for the Liberty students coming in.

Hunter glossed over the list of the others, but he memorized who he had to show around.

“Nikolai Zabrecky,” Hunter said aloud.

The name didn’t mean anything to him, but then again, he didn’t know many people at Liberty. A few friends and some acquaintances he met at parties. And Juno. Can’t forget about the redhead he hurt the most. But he didn’t know this Niko person. He sounded like some Russian spy or something.

Hunter laughed at the thought of one of Vladimir Putin’s agents attending his high school. It would, at the least, make things interesting.

He sat with that thought as he pulled into an empty spot in the parking lot. After a few minutes of enjoying some music, Hunter grabbed his bag from the backseat, hoisted it over his shoulder, and got out. He took a few moments to straighten his shirt and jacket because even Hunter Quinn cared about his appearance. Satisfied, he briskly walked across the parking lot. When he was about to cross the street, he saw Rico just up ahead. As he was about to call out to him, he saw his friend have a close brush with death.

“Holy shit!” Hunter ran over to the Spanish romancer. “Jesus, Rico,” he stopped by his side, looking at his friend, concerned. “You okay, bro? Looks like you let your guard down. Almost met your maker there.”


“Is she at work again?” Colin’s youngest sister, Kirstin, whined before he even managed to step out of the door of his messy room.

“Why the hell are ya asking me?” He spat back as he shoved his way past his sister. She was petite and tiny, so it was a feat easily achieved.

Colin walked down the hall, dragging his feet along the tiled floor, which felt colder than they usually did.

You’d think, for it being still technically summer, that it would be at least somewhat warm, but when his siblings often ganged up on him for control of the thermostat, which always had the AC at a minimum of 73°F, Colin had no choice but to suffer in subtle coldness until he could feel the brush of the morning summer heat hit him in the face.

Somewhere between him getting to the fridge and his lips touching the jug of orange juice, a sensation that made him think about whether or not the juice was bad, Colin heard his sister from behind again.


He rolled his eyes and, with a frustrated sigh, set the jug of OJ on the counter and turned around. “What now, Sin?” His attempt to give her his full attention was barely half as his smirk annoyed her more.

“How are we going to get to school? Mom usually takes us and it’s our first day!”

“I guess you’ll have to take the bus as everyone else does!”

Without looking, Colin heard the puffing from Kirstin’s mouth. If he was looking at her, he’d say that her cheeks were puffed outward in that pouting way that her “idols” did and with her arms across her chest. Not that it would work on him, but Colin made her sweat for a few moments and turned around.

“I’m kidding!” He wasn’t, but if he let her do that any longer, she would have a permanent pouting bitch faceand nobody around here wants that. “I’ve got the keys to Rhonda’s--”

“So, that’s where they went!”

The boy chuckled, amused, as his second younger sister came up from behind him. She intentionally shoved him and this would only further his expression to the point where he took a large step forward and flicked the back of her head as he passed her.

“Asshole!” She exclaimed as she took a seat at the kitchen table, grabbing a red apple from the bowl that had an assortment of fruit. As she took a bite and Colin took a seat opposite of her, she said, “I guess you can drive if you want!”

“Oh, how kind of you!” His response resulted in Rhonda sticking her tongue at him in a charming way unique to Colin.

As Colin sat there, trying his best not to feed into his worst impulses and further antagonize Rhonda by kicking her under the table, Colin ceased after a few minutes and let his mind wander into thought. He thought about how their mother worked consistently during the week and the only times he saw her was when she had her evening show, but other than that, she was out the door early for meetings. The weekend was the only time any of them saw Caroline Brady in person.

Not that Colin gave two shits one way or the other. He knew she had to work and didn’t blame her for that. But, somewhere deep down, he might even admit he resented her a little bit for it.

But that’s not something he’d like to think about right now.

“Alright! Eat up and let’s get going, or else the traffic will be a bitch.”



Even before they had pulled up to the school, Colin knew there would be a bit of a line. It was to be expected, of course, because of the influx of Liberty asswipes infesting Rosefell. Just the thought of those people roaming the same halls as him, being in his class, eating at his table, being anywhere near him, made Colin want to thrash them. Even the mental image of those royal wannabes made him take a hefty chug of his “water”, which really, was vodka in an Aquafina water bottle.

As the honks behind him came in furiously and the pace in which the cars in front of him progressed was slower than the turtle vs the hare, Colin kept honking at the cars in front of him, which in turn made them yell back at him.

“Yeah, like that’ll make the cars go any faster,” Rhonda commented. She sat in the front passenger seat.

He didn’t feel like appeasing her ego with a response, so he just glanced at the mirror and saw the twins in the back. And, as it was expected, while Sinead had her face glued to her phone, snapping selfie after selfie, Shea was glued to the book in his hands. He couldn’t process just how different both were from each other, but he also didn’t question it. In their own right, they were about to find out their place in high school.

And looking at them, knowing they were going into high school without any baggage, Colin just couldn’t help himself. That masochistic habit of his to painfully remind himself of Cosima at least once a week took its sweet time slithering up his back, chills spreading throughout his arms and up to his neck.

She would have been eighteen by now. The thought came as the line was moving and Colin pressed on the gas pedal.

Contrary to how Colin usually was in the mornings, he didn’t speak. He didn’t respond to Rhonda, didn’t bother taking the time to look at them. He just got to the parking lot, parked in the closest available spot.

As he got out and popped the trunk open, he grabbed his backpack and waited until his siblings grabbed theirs. The trunk closed and he gave them all a stern look. “Be here ten minutes after the final bell. And, if it can be helped, don’t cause too much trouble, yeah? I’d hate to get detention for kicking someone’s ass in your defense.” He noted as a joke, which was only received with mixed reactions. “Geez, I’m kidding. Just have a good first day, okay?”

As he pulled his shades, which were hanging from his Chicago Bulls jersey, and put them on, Colin walked through the big red doors and immediately a sense of pride passed through his face. He took a quick sip of his vodka, shaking it as he realized his breakfast was almost gone.

“Shit,” he cursed. It was rather telling in the tone of his voice that he didn’t think he drank so much already. “Might have to get some more during lunch.” He noted under a breath.

It took him a few seconds to redirect his mind and clung to the walls, leg against it as his foot was flatly placed against what felt like the fake steel lockers. He stood there trying to remember if he read that Email or not. He remembered there had been one, but between his mom barely being around and him not giving two shits to check his school Email, Colin wasn’t in any position to remember who he had to show around. He just remembered there was a mention of Rosefell students serving as guides.

Yeah, it made him want to throw up, too.

“Oh, what-the-fuck-ever!” Colin cursed his way over to a table and after letting his eyes survey the table for half of a minute, he found his nametag.

He grimaced with the expression variety of Johnny Depp when he saw the cartoonish kind of name tag they chose. It was cheap but the fact it read “pleasure to meet you” at the bottom made Colin roll his eyes. “This is so lame,” he muttered, eying one of the teachers who absolutely heard him (maybe that’s because he intentionally spoke loud enough for the asshat to hear him).

As he walked away and made sure the sticker stuck to his jersey, he was at least grateful that the nametag matched his red jersey and dark pants. But really? Hello, my name is Colin, pleasure to meet you? Talk about fucking lame.
What are your ratios at, @Aewin? I may be able to join, but I don't want to throw things off too much.

Not a gm but this is the rough estimate I think I can confidently speak on.

I'm not sure how updated it is, but this is the rough estimate of the ratios:

Female: Fab, Ken, Bee, Michi, Komo, Kiki

Male: Jordan, Ozzo, Kiki, (Talon?)

I also know there are maybe one or two people who haven't stated what gender role they want.

At the moment, the accepted characters are at an even ratio but I know there are a couple of female spots on the way and one male. I'm sure @Aewin and @Melo might be able to officially state what the ratios are at (if they're any different than the above).

In Love Ahoy! 12 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Showing some ...hesitated interest, but I am interested regardless.

Not sure which gender role I want yet, but imma think on it.

“Daddy, it’s just not fair!” Came the all-too-expected whine of one Park Mi-Kyong.

Ever since the announcement that Liberty High was closing down (and for unknown reasons, at that), everyone had to adapt rather quickly. It was an easier transition for some because their entire reputation wasn’t riding on the fact that their senior year -- A.K.A. the only year that mattered -- be spent at the school they’ve been going to for the past three years. It was riding on the fact that it made no sense to downgrade from Kobe Beef to the McDonalds Dollar Menu.

And for one Miki Park, Queen Liberty herself, this was the absolute worst. The! Absolute! Worst! Nothing topped this. A terrorist attack could happen and Miki’s self-absorbed mind would wonder if that meant she had to stay at Rosefell, or if she could fly down to Palm Beach and join her favorite cousin and that Chrissie girl at their wonderful King’s Academy.

But nope. She was forced to. It was, unfortunately for a lot, the last option. Her parents tried to find other schools. Private schools in Columbus and neighboring cities, but no other school that wasn’t Rosefell High was in the place of accepting new students on such short notice.

“I know it was the only school, but how can I accept it, daddy? I mean, my senior year is my last chance to make an impression on these insignificant bugs. And now I have to crawl amongst them like I’m their--” she found herself physically choking at the thought of being called a student at Rosefell. “--Like I’m their equal!” And here came the gag reflex.

Miki was in the grandiose kitchen that had black marble countertops and the best kitchenware money could buy. She was already dressed. Anyone that knew her, especially the kitchen staff who were wrapping up the spread of breakfast Miki was too stressed to eat, would know that on Mondays, Miki wore something shiny and her flats were beige. And that’s exactly what she wore: a gold satin blouse that shimmered in light tied in the front to show off what she believed to be her second-best feature, a black skirt that was both loose and tight at the same time, and those flats that were her trademark footwear.

“Fine, fine! But just come home soon! I love you too daddy!”

A pouting Miki pocketed her phone inside her diamond-encrusted clutch that had her initials MKP across the front center of it, each embedded with about a single million’s worth of exotic gemstones per letter.

“WINSTONNNN!” Miki called out, her voice going to registers that many had to cover their ears to avoid bleeding from them.

About a few moments later, a man with salt and pepper hair, dreamy blue eyes that you could get lost in, and a stature that, if Miki were into guys, she might take him to her room. “You called for me, Miss Park?” Winston spoke in a rather dreamy, if not thick, British accent. He wore a deep blue suit without the tie and a lighter blue handkerchief in his front jacket pocket. He had a goatee that seemed to only accentuate the DILF energy he was giving off.

“Is the car ready?” Miki inquired, gripping her clutch.

“It is, miss. And Amalie took it upon herself to put your bag into the backseat like your father requested.”

This is why she loved being the only child of Philip Lambert. The perks of being their priority was one thing, but the staff not having to divide their responsibilities made her feel fortunate and it only emboldened her opinion of herself -- which was pretty high to begin with, so one could imagine just how important she felt.

“Perfect. Then let's go!” She said, passing him by as her flats clicked on the tiled floor.

As the rumbling of the Lincoln Navigator sped down the highway, Miki both felt it and didn’t feel it every time she was driven in the SUV -- which was often. Miki knew how to drive, but she just chose not to, especially when someone like Winston had no problem driving her around anywhere she wanted to go. He was like her bodyguard but got paid too much for him to be reduced to just that; he was also her friend.

They each caught each other’s glance in the mirror that hung between the driver and passenger seat. She didn’t say anything, she simply let her eyes fall back down to her phone. She had been in such a rush and the entire week was hectic for her family. Honestly, if she had to be brutally honest about it all, the past month or so was pretty stressful but that was for another day.

Miki wanted to go over that email she and so many of her wonderful friends at Liberty received. She remembered reading it with Winston two weeks ago and then again in a video call with her father, but the details sort of just faded out. Now, as horrible as it might be, Miki was now absorbing the contents of the Email.

As she read it, she made some inaudible sounds that no doubt were heard by Winston, but he didn’t say anything. Miki did have this habit of speaking gibberish when she was trying to concentrate.

By the end of it, Miki’s main takeaways could be divided into two parts. The first, of course, was her genuine astonishment in how well-written the letter was. She had very low opinions about Rosefell as a whole, so she didn’t know what to make of it, but whoever wrote the letter, she would probably not give them any sort of validation. Still, the fact it wasn’t written with a crayon or had horrible grammar and syntax made her smile.

And the second part was where she found herself lingering. “I wonder who this Ellie Roberts girl is.” Sadly, when it came to anyone from Rosefell, unless they were under Melissa Elliot’s inferior leadership or one of the hunks on the football team, Miki wouldn’t know anything about who they were.

“Ellie who?” Winston asked, glancing at Miki through the mirror.

“Some girl at Rosefell. She is to be my guide. And I almost feel bad for not knowing who she is.”

The guilty expression on her face forced a chuckle from Winston. “Don’t fret too much about it, Miki. I am sure it will be perfectly splendid!”

“Thank you, Winston! You always know how to make me feel better.” She smiled at him and adjusted herself in the seat.

The remainder of the ride to Rosefell was spent in silence, the only sounds heard within the navigator were the occasional cough from both driver and passenger and Miki’s fingers tapping away on her phone. She had been texting a few people: some of her friends who found spots in other schools, but mostly her darling cousin Stella, who was still enjoying her last weeks of summer before starting at Meadow in the fall after taking a gap year in France. She was, of course, delighted that her cousin got into her dream school, but she was jealous because Stella got to graduate at the school, with her friends and her high school boyfriend, Carter.

She left Stella on read as she sent a text to one of her few friends at Rosefell.

To: Cheerful Poor Asian

Need you now boy. Almost there at school. Be there if you can! Like out front. Ciao!

Sean was a great guy in all honesty. Truly one of the sincerest souls she knew both at Liberty and Rosefell. She would go to bat for him and might even do it without needing something in return. Maybe. But that was not the reason she texted him. She did, in fact, need something from him. She needed information about this Ellie Roberts girl and there was very little to go off of from the email and her own research.

At the very least, if she was to usurp the queen of thorns, she needed to know who was who and if they could help her make this one and only year spent at this trash of a school worthwhile.

And, honestly, Miki just allowed herself to relax as she saw Rosefell in view, but the traffic was unbearably bad. She knew it would be a while before she would be allowed to leave the comfort of her company with Winston.
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