Plank Sinatra

Olympus Academy // A School for Demigods and Demigoddesses

Approved.

Olympus Academy // A School for Demigods and Demigoddesses

@Altered Tundra @HereComesTheSnow @NeoAC @Dirty Pretty Lies

"Ah, who fucking cares," Dallas demurred, although his eyebrow seemed to cock upwards in some mild display of trepidation at the new kid's bad touch vibes. If it fixed whatever dark, monstrous CTE ravaged Viv's head to the point where she could just spit out words like 'dandy' without a hint of shame, then keep on keeping on, whatever. "You came. You saw. You conquered an incisor or two. We'll laugh about this story together in a few years, as long as you don't fall asleep with a concussion and wind up a vegetable. But I guess you have a friend for that now."

He had been about to press a cold one to Viv's head as a temporary measure, but now that Dr. Phil had stepped in and cleared up everything in Viv's head but the sunshine and rainbows, he cracked it open and prepared to polish off the whole can to ease the throbbing in his own temples--

“Hey, JoJo.”

Is that a motherfucking--

“I'm surprised you're not on security detail this time around, sweetie! Does this mean you finally have some time to hang out with me?”

...mediocre...

Then the implication of the words struck him like a cannonball to the chest, and Dallas paused with the beer can held to his lips. For a cautious second, he waited - held his breath to see if the words were just a hallucination brought on by some of the pot smoke in the air, or maybe bran damage he'd done by watching more than one anime in a year like he had when he'd first started attending Olympus. Maybe it was just a herald that something had gone wrong in the Matrix, like a black cat walking by twice through the same hallway. Were half the people at this lake about to start turning to dust?

There was no way they could. He felt way too good.

"Ahem. Better watch where you point that thing. I can't summon my own, but that might count as a weapon."

He's DOING IT!! FITIZEN! FITIZEN!

Beaming, Dal turned around and took up a position between Marcella and Kelsey; it was a comfortable spot between two friends, neither of whom he'd be opposed to waking up with tomorrow morning, and more importantly it was the best perch at the entire lake to watch Jonas humiliate--

...

"Ah. Ariana."

...Arthur?

"You guys should tune in for this," he stage whispered to the beer-besotted valkyries on either side of him. "This is about to be a fucking treat. Look at him. Those vacant eyes. That dumb grin. Brainpan thick like a fucking bank vault. It's all a ruse. He knows exactly what he's doing. This guy fucks. He doesn't sleep with us demigods because he thinks we're all too spoiled as it is, but I've partied with him during summer breaks. Five girls, back to back, when we turned twenty. They still have a sign of him up in the VIP lounge of the club we crashed at. There's a fucking titanium nameplate underneath it with 'Immortan Joey' etched into it. The backs he blew out that day laid the foundation for what this party is now. And blowing weed in his face? Fucking a. Like giving Shendu all twelve fucking talismans. He's either about to humiliate her or cut a sex tape you'd need the fucking Fram Cam to appreciate. If he humiliates her then Jesus returns by Christmas. If he gets laid then you can use my shirtless body for the beer pong table."

He finished his can of beer and watched Joey blunder his way through what would have been a very simple "get the fuck out of my face, Arthur" if Dal were in his shoes. It was hard to stop a grin from unfurling on his face, or keep the twinkle out of his electric blue eyes. If any of what he had said was a lie, it was rattled off convincingly - and without any hesitation.

"Look at him go. It's like watching Scott Summers try and take a fucking eye exam."

---

@Krayzikk @Dirty Pretty Lies @HereComesTheSnow

This cannot be happening to me.

She was not the sort of woman without honor, the kind of coward, who would slay her own beloved older brother. The fact that he was a faithless American pigdog that teamkilled his own little sister in 2v4 situations in video games was irrelevant. The blood that ran through his veins was half hers, and even if her remaining blood was redder and hotter and more valuable than his, the shared variable was still enough for her to feel protective of Jonas Highwind. Boys were for slaying, not for laying, indeed...but Jonas wasn't for slaying or laying. He was for...saying.

Saying important things. Like.

Oniiii-chan. Dana needs money for shopping. Give her yours.

Oniiii-chan. Dana is going out with Bekah for the evening. She will need a set of keys for the truck. Give her yours.

Oniiii-chan. Dana's controller batteries are dead. Give her yours.

Oniiii-chan. Dana wants to practice her fatalities and will be taking a spine spine. Give her yours.

Oniiii-chan. Dana should not need to tell you that Ari-chan is not for riding. Give her nothing!

Had Ariana not wanted to come to the party after all? A simple no would have sufficed. Why would the daughter of Aphrodite force her friend to watch idly as her lunkhead older brother was tortured like this? A dog did not understand why a cruel owner would strike it. A deer could not comprehend the headlights hurtling towards it. Jonas was going to politezone Ari so hard! Dana would be forced to cringe until her fingers dug all the way through her arms and back into her wrists!

Kaz would be loving this.

But she was not as cruel as Kaz.

"I appreciate the offer, but if you're worried that you'd be taking the other Ares kid from her post, don't. Dana'd be free to hang out with you so long as she keeps an eye on everyone else, so you don't have to make do with me or anything like that."

"Hm? Oh."

TRAITOROUS NII-CHAN? YOU THINK TO FUCK ME? HUH? HUH? AFTER ALL I DO FOR YOU! BBBBBBBBBḆ̭̞̲͖ͪ͑̈́ͅA̭̩͛͑̄͒̾̑K͕̦̬̙͕̗̐͛̐̈ͤ͋̌̽A̤̻͙̙̗̘ͪ͑͋͂ ̯͓̞̬̜͍̥̈ͬͤ́ͥ̍B̲͚̺̦̳̜̞͉̗̍̃ͨÄ̙̤͍̳̜̘́K͓̞̙ͣͮ̓ͬͩA̞̗͍͓̖̞̞͐ͅ ̥̍̈̿ͫͩ͗̆ͬ̓Ḅ̖̙̯͕̘̹̉̈̂A̩̓ͯ́͌̊ͬ͗̍K̭̞̲͓ͩͤͤ́̌ͨ́̂Ȧ͚̟̲̫̝͆͐̓!͈̘̹̱͔͎̖̹̖̈́ͧ̊

Bad enough that the kiss Ariana had blown Dana still lingered on Dana's fingertips, where the Japanese girl had playfully caught it and meant to mime returning it - before Dana had deduced where Ari was sauntering, of course. She was supposed to be working security so Dallas could waste his life in sin and iniquity, for fuck's sake! She did not want to have to spend half the night distracted, explaining to her spurned friend why her fucking traitorous idiot pigdog onii-chan thought his dick was supposed to be used like an alarm clock! Why he thought babies came from fucking C-130s! Why else would he still be a virgin at the age of twenty?

BECAUSE HE'S FUCKING STUPID!!!

Why should she be forced to explain that!?

"Onii-chan..."

Rebekah was going to kill something tonight.

"Ari-chan is good girl," she insisted politely, mustering all of her inner strength and her middling command of English. "But if you want to hang out with your friends tonight, I can hang out with mine. We can both keep eye on things together."

PIGDOG SUCK MY DICK

REBOOT COMING SOON. INVITE ONLY.

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Location | In-N-Out Burger, short-term / which circle of Hell is bullying(?), long-term
Los Angeles Time | 11:54 AM / London Time | 6:54 PM / Moscow Time | 9:54 PM
Interacting with | he will kill us all @TootsiePop / Gearheads
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Tantrum number one.

Aleks watched calmly, with only a quartet of quick blinks, as AJ stormed off in search of a toothpick and then off to the bathroom. He clocked that explosive tantrum at a mere...four minutes. How unfortunate. No wonder Jamie dumped him with that kind of stamina. But the Russian wasn't particularly bothered, nor did he take offense at the fries that showered upon the other side of the table, peppering Yessi, Chris and Aleks with the remainder of AJ's sides. One had landed on Aleks' left forearm; with precision, so that it didn't tip over and fall to the ground, he lifted his arm up as gently as he would cradle a butterfly - and then bit down on the end of the fry, balancing it between his lips like a cigarette before eating it hands-free.

"Spasiiiiiboooooo, braaaatááááááán~!" he called out when he had finished, watching the direction AJ had stormed off in. A wide smile broke out on his face as he turned to face the rest of his Gearheads, accent flowing with ease and patience. "This will be very fucking fun. I am very fucking excited."

It seemed like not everyone shared his enthusiasm for being trapped on the road with this convoy of heartbroken egomaniacs and spoiled trust fund kids. He faintly registered the familiar rhythm of Yessi's fingers drumming on his own, trying to stealthily weave them between each other. He held her hand back and squeezed, following her gaze up to Matt. He didn't know what was going on there. Personally, it didn't interest Aleks as much as the extra French fries that AJ had seen fit to dump into his and Yessi's trays. But he had seen her look happier at some false positives than she looked right now, and it seemed like Matty had been the tug that sent AJ over the edge, too.

Oh well.

"Privyet, Matty. You can have some fries if you want. Finder's fee. Monica, you want fries?"

Olympus Academy // A School for Demigods and Demigoddesses

@Write @MissCapnCrunch @NeoAC @Altered Tundra

Dallas beamed and winked at Milwaukee's Best, waving cheerfully at her from his perch upon the hood of Jonas' truck. Normally he'd be more than happy to team up with her and show everyone how a couple of truly alcohol besotted fuckups could marshal a beer pong table, but Marcy had finally arrived - and Dallas/Marcy were the fucking Road Warriors of this shit, five years running. As much as he would have preferred to make up the messy bitch tandem of Dustyn/Kelse--

Kelsey!

"I gotcha, Kelsey," he crowed, clearly pleased at her name finally clicking in his head - even if he wouldn't let on that it had been plaguing him all day. "I gotcha on sex, too, if that's an open invitation, Dust. Marcy, form up, bitch. We march, we happy few, onto the battlefield ag--"

“Ouchies!”

Dallas visibly deflated at the familiar sound of his little sister. Although she was the first person he'd invited, out of courtesy and a deep fraternal love for including his sister in things, he was hoping that Viv's general naivety and klutzy nature wouldn't go so far as to actively cockblock his dreams of a good night. Clearly he had chosen to put his faith in the wrong place again. Explained why he was still a Catholic.

"How hard did you hit your head, kiddo?" he called out. "Need any ice?"

---

@Krayzikk @Write @Dirty Pretty Lies

got my a machines on the table
got my b machines in the drawer
got my a machines on the table
got my b machines in the drawer

Dana bobbed patiently on top of her keg. She had been given an empty one to sit on top of while she vetted people who were either not cool enough or too belligerent to be allowed near Dallas. He was mainly worried about the 'not cool enough' part; more than likely he would have thrived off of some belligerence at the lake this evening, but it was the first day of school and he had been convinced by onii-chan that he was already willfully toeing a number of lines this evening already. Instead the task of cleaning up the undesirables was left to Dana. Dallas had scribbled something onto a nametag and slapped it onto the chest of the coat she'd changed into.

C.G.B.G. Her mouth formed the letters with a faint wonder, trying to grasp the intricacies of both the acronym and the son of the sun's deranged, partied out, nympho-maniacal brain. She didn't know why he made such a big deal out of it. She hadn't even brought her biggest pistol, let alone her biggest gun. It was safe under her coat waiting.

She straightened her back proudly, gingerly crossing and uncrossing her feet at the ankles and staring at the surface of her boots. She was growing very bored waiting to prove her dominance over drunk people - and her favorite person was not quite drunk enough for Dana to accost her yet. She tilted her head back to Rebekah and Rhea; they were both still sober and watching Dallas uneasily, as if he would still be the biggest problem that evening. Maybe he would be. That would be very Dallas of him.

If only there were a way for her to start trouble, in order to solve trouble...without having to start or solve trouble with her friends...

A-ha!

Problem solver Dana-chan!

To: Ari-chan 💕 (For Shopping)
hello ari-chan!!

That was a very polite opening text, along the lines of what she usually sent. Dana waited a few seconds to imagine that Ariana had said hello back before she sent her second text.

To: Ari-chan 💕 (For Shopping)
the party at the lake is beginning. i am on security. unfortunately no one is fighting yet. so you should come! give boys reasons to fight! then we can slay them

To: Ari-chan 💕 (For Shopping)
metaphorically. for you. literally for me.

Bringing an Aphrodite girl would spark many fights. Then Dana's job as security girl could truly begin.

The Japanese girl grinned, feet kicking with excited little bangs against the empty metal drum where she sat.

REBOOT COMING SOON. INVITE ONLY.

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Location | In-N-Out Burger
Los Angeles Time | 11:53 AM / London Time | 6:53 PM / Moscow Time | 9:53 PM
Interacting with | Fuck it, the Gearheads. / @Hoekage @CosmicComet @TootsiePop @GhostMami @BleedingLover
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Aleks liked the way the ice rattled in his cup. It made him imagine the sound Yessi would make if he lost patience and started choking her. His fingers, clutching the pliable rim of the plastic lid, released their hold on his empty drink; the Russian reached his arm around and trapped Yessi's neck in the crook of his right arm, pulling her away from Chris and closer to him in a one-armed chokehold. Or an embrace, if you thought he was feeling particularly affectionate towards Yessi. Aleks chose to think of the involuntary motion as a hybrid of the two. It kept the bitch contained for a moment, long enough for him to plant a quick kiss on the top of her head that he was certain she would complain about. He was pretty sure she'd just had her hair done; doubtless, she would start complaining that his evil Communist lips and fingertips would only fuck it up. Fine. He was sure one of his other assembled best friends would be happy to be his go-to kiss.

AJ could have used a firm making out with, frankly, in order to bring him back to the plane of reality they all inhabited and not the one he had journeyed to where they all harbored Jamie in their shadows. Knowing him, he would argue that any kiss planted on him wasn't as good as one he could have planted, but Aleks let that slide like the bullshit it was. AJ couldn't even tie a cherry stem with his tongue, let alone do it on beat to most songs below 120 bpm.

Like Aleks could.

The surly Russian boy leaned forward on the bench, resting his elbow on the edge of the table and cupping two fingers under his chin. His food sat underneath him, momentarily untouched. If he didn't start going in on it soon, Yessi and Chris would begin to repurpose and cannibalize his order, flinging half of it at AJ while polishing off the remainder by themselves. He was hungry, too. But it would be rude to start digging in like he was at a trough - and especially after there were new arrivals present. Monica and Manda were connected like chain links at the elbow, so the smile and brief wink he directed specifically at Monica was aimed at both of them. He waved at them with his fingers before finally letting Yessi go and beating her to the punch by grabbing a French fry.

"Hey," he said in a simple, general greeting to the new arrivals, raising the fry and lowering it from horizontal to vertical, then back, then forth. His next sentence was directed to Monica specifically: "Should've brought my bike instead. I still need the practice."

❝Glad to see you springing back to your natural self. Oh, you.❞

Aleks' mouth tightened in mock severity.

"I am not joking," the Russian insisted, though his soft drawl made the j- sound more pronounced and gave it a faintly pouty sound. "It is bugging me."

There was a faint beat of silence as he kept raising and lowering the French fry, closing an eye so that he could imagine its shape was framing his bratán's chin, then his jawline. Then his wrist bent forward so that he could flick the spud at AJ's face, just as Yessi had. Aleks' mouth tightened again, this time into a coquettish smile.

"I raised you to have better table manners, God damn it."

REBOOT COMING SOON. INVITE ONLY.

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Location | In-N-Out Burger
Los Angeles Time | 11:50 AM / London Time | 6:50 PM / Moscow Time | 9:50 PM
Interacting with | AJ @TootsiePop / Yessi @Hoekage
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_{or, all that for a drop of açai}

_{Leksi
thought i mentioned it. i'm with the mates. seeing america for summer}

_{Mum
Wtf???!
why? !?
America 🤢🤢😂}

You said it, queen, thought Aleks Belikov.

_{Leksi
lol. told aj that. but everyone will need me}

_{Mum
is Yessi coming??}

"Hmmph."

Aleksandr Belikov looked to his right, staring daggers into the spoiled thot that had halved the free space he'd originally imagined having in his Elise. Even though the planning for their road trip had hardly been haphazard, it seemed like they were constantly running into issues that threatened to derail the whole thing. Chris was rendered unavailable, putting the work into his career - which apparently amounted to high crimes and misdemeanors in the eyes of AJ. AJ, who would fistfight a fucking school bus if he thought Jamie and his new boyfriend had once ridden it to a fourth grade field trip. Dumb, naive AJ and his dumb, perfect ass. And then there was that greatest of existential questions - is Yessi coming?? The answer was a complete crapshoot. She'd had her heart set on taking her Tesla across country with them, probably so she could trick herself into thinking she was a better racer than Aleks, Monica, or Ellie. Meanwhile, what would she be doing? Enjoying the open road? The sights and smells of America?

(Such as they are.)

Nope. She would be be using the Roadster's vaunted autopilot, cruising along with minimal direct involvement while she spent the whole trip on Snapchat. When that was the plan, he couldn't have given a fuck less. It meant he could put the Elise through its paces without any distractions. But it seemed that overnight, a dilemma had struck her - charging the damn thing. Suddenly, she was in an uproar, a tornado of high-pitched panicking and broken Spanish that was fretting over her entire availability. She had gotten so keyed up that she had even started to rip open her bags, unpacking things and repacking them as she waffled over whether she would be able to join the rest of their friends. For a while he had let her do it; he knew what she wanted him to ask, but he wasn't about to cave in. He only did so when it looked like she was going to fling herself from her Calabasas water slide to an early grave that he surrendered. At the time, he thought he was being a good best friend.

Now Aleks realized what a fucking imbecile he truly was. One morning into the trip - they hadn't even left the Los Angeles metropolitan area! - and what was she complaining about? They had gone to Starbucks that morning, and she wanted a sip of Aleks' Strawberry Açai Refresher. Even though she had a perfectly serviceable iced Blonde Americano. With her stupid coconut milk and everything. Coconut milk. Coconut water he could understand; it was the perfect hangover cure, but good luck explaining that to her. She wanted coconut milk. Oh, and cupholders. She was tired of holding her own fucking drink, and didn't know why Aleks' Lotus had no cupholders.

Because it was a Lotus Elise 260 Cup, a fucking British cruise missile, commemorating the 70th anniversary of Colin Chapman's original racecar of the future. Because it was a car he had been desired since he was five years old in London, watching them rip up the streets from the building-length glass window of his family's condo. Because it was his dream car, and Aleks Belikov didn't waste time dreaming of fucking cupholders.

Was Yessi coming??

Jesus Christ, was she ever. But to text his mom the affirmative - just to type out the letters 'Y,' 'E,' 'S' would have felt like a defeat. Instead, he parked the Lotus beside AJ's car and stepped out with his Refresher (considerably lighter, he noticed) in hand. He took a long, deep breath of the 'fresh' air and tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded and lazy, to offer his face to the California sun. He would actually miss the weather. He had never lived in a place with so much sun before. Once he had learned to keep his skin protected from it, he'd found himself growing fond of it.

He would miss the 3x3s, too. He had no idea what other regional burger chains there were in America, but the thought of them filled him with trepidation. Not quite as much trepidation as he felt when he took a single look at AJ, but it was there.

AJ.

He had his sunglasses on, and he sat alone atop one of the bench's. The combination meant his eyes were almost certainly clouded with thoughts of gossip columnists gone by and sex techniques that he'd heard described in excruciating detail that were probably being practiced in Greece as they spoke. Greece.

Have you ever been to Greece? The only thing they should be practicing is a route back to the airport, he'd tried telling AJ, but AJ had a habit of ignoring good advice about terrible boys. The mirror universe of Instagram was filling his head with sweet nothings and murder fantasies, and no amount of sage counsel communicated with a sexy foreign drawl would ever change AJ's mind. He'd learned to live with it, temper his expectations a little, and offer advice that was so manageable even an idiot would have to follow through.

"You have lettuce in your teeth," Aleks warned the idiot, sitting at the bench and rattling his near-empty Starbucks cup.

Baby steps.

REBOOT COMING SOON. INVITE ONLY.

GEARHEAD ALEKS

ALEKS BELIKOV

_{Aleksandr Osipovich Belikov}

18 • M • PANSEXUAL

(FC: Francisco Lachowski; Dialogue: a0410d)
♫ Bitch, real gs move in silence like lasagna / People say I'm borderline crazy, sorta kinda / Woman of my dreams, I don't sleep so I can't find her.” ♫

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► reputation

Aleks fills an understated but constant role in the lives and activities of his friends. He arrived in Beverly Hills by way of his second home, London, in his freshman year. While it was far from unusual to see the child of a Russian oligarch floating around California, Aleks nonetheless made a splash when he arrived, a young, aloof foreigner who looked and dressed like the ghost of James Dean, with all the intense focus and ambition that some of his more easy-going peers lacked. America had quite the culture shock in store for him, even compared to London instead of Russia, but he quickly made himself indispensable to the upper crust of the school thanks to his reliable personality and variety of talents. His female classmates found it easier – and cheaper – to bring along Aleks as a stand-in bodyguard for the evening at clubs or bars; a Russian accent and a cold, implacable stare were as good for warding off fuckboys as a pair of fists. For his male friends, he proved to be a reliable wingman, erudite and charming enough to fit into any double date scenario even if he never followed through on his end of the date, able to hold conversation without stealing it from his compatriot.

It also helps to have a friend who is used to hopping through time zones; it’s rumored that Aleks never actually sleeps for very long, or at least sleeps with one eye on his phone. If someone sends him a text asking for help in the middle of the night, they will receive not a response over iMessage but a fully-formed, alert-looking Aleks in the flesh. He’s given rides (or, maybe more accurately, getaways) to drunk or belligerent friends at all hours of the night, even on days where school might only be a few painfully short hours away. Drunken car crash? Aleks is there with a AAA card to swear he was in the vehicle with you. Need an alibi for your whereabouts and don’t know who would back your story? Text Aleks with your story and he will fill it in with a novelist’s detail.

Always willing to let some of the more flamboyant and needy personalities in his life take center stage, Aleks reliably fills a niche in the lives of all around him without ever demanding too much in return. Maybe he is just a generous soul who doesn’t like to bother his friends; maybe he has just found the extra hours of the day to solve his own problems in addition to those around him; maybe he’s just not interested. The Russian is a puzzle, one that some of his friends may find irresistible to solve.

► noteworthy appearance traits

Amazing hair; occasional mysterious facial scrapes or wounds; black, thorny circlular tattoo on the back of his right hand; twin diamond stud piercings; usually wearing a leather jacket or a well-worn pink hoodie.

► ride

Lotus Elise Cup 260
Top Speed: 151 mph
Championship Gold, of course.
Bought and shipped by way of his family’s address in the UK.

► current dilemma

Aleks, usually calm and composed in the face of any of his or his friends’ dilemmas, has been growing increasingly restless in the last few months. Secretly, he is growing tired of America and has become unable to find good enough reasons to justify staying past his graduation, especially with the potential breakup of the Gearheads.

► warning

If someone want to discuss the details of your relationships with Aleks, they can – and often will - do so. But don’t ask about the girls or boys he steps out with when they go on group dates. They never last, and trying to push for juicy details beyond his usual, brusque explanation that ”It didn’t work out.” leads to snappy replies and colder stares than usual.

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► quirks

• One thing Aleks is enamored with is American movies, especially their depictions of Russians. He will regale people with impersonations of movie Russians on command; he does a better Ivan Drago than Ivan Drago, and his John Wick crime boss impersonation (”…with a pencil. A fucking pencil!”) is getting better all the time.
• Aleks hates being photographed. His Instagram is full of locales he’s been to, foods he’s tried, and people he’s with, but when he is included in group pictures or pairs of selfies, he will try and blend into the background or hide his face behind a prop as effectively as he can. His best disguise ever is managing to hide his entire face behind a hibachi grill fire in a group selfie earlier this year.
• Seriously. His friends have never been seen sleeping. Like…he must at some point, right?

► hobbies

• Driving. Aleks prefers track-ready vehicles.
• Following fashion
• Dance
• Self-defense and physical training
• DJing (?)

► dreams

Aleks doesn’t talk much about his dreams, but he has taken a shine to the idea of DJing over the last year, and he may choose to pursue it professionally after school. Other than that, his future is up in the air - he hedges on whether or not he will even remain in America after the end of the road trip, maybe because it's something he's uncharacteristically uncertain about.

► fears

Certainly not any human being alive. Probably bears. Bears are fucking tanks with fur. Other than that, not having a vehicle for his own interests and ambitions - wasting his privilege and wealth.

► likes/dislikes

✔ Going to museums. History. Good stuff!
✔ Skincare technology fascinates him. Sun lotion has been so helpful since he came to America.
✔ Surprising friends with hidden talents.
✖ Going to zoos. Fuck big animals.
✖ Mathematics.
✖ Much of America feels like big, empty space to him.

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► occupation

Recently met the requirements to become an Uber driver in California.

► family

• Osip Belikov, father. Originally an industrial magnate in the 1990s, much of his wealth remained intact after the 2008 financial crisis, and in the decade since he's made increasing Western investments, first in European fashion. His son's curiosity about moving to America prompted a look at the tech sector there, which has proven good for the family net worth.
• Juliana Belikova, mother, half-Brazilian. Former swimsuit model. She drives even faster than Aleks. He will never admit that.

► brief history

Aleks was born in Russia, but didn't spend most of his life there. He grew up in London around the fashion circuit, an interest that will probably prove to be lifelong. For a time he dreamed of being a model like his mother, but the lifestyle proved to be too intensive for someone with such varied interests, and he gave up after a series of childhood modeling gigs. He also realized that his options in the United Kingdom were fairly limited, especially with growing tensions between his home nation and the nation where he spent so much of his life. That, plus a cultural fascination with the American dream (and American high school experience) caused him to relocate at the age of fourteen. He tried New York first, but he didn't agree with the culture.

California was sunnier, something which wreaked havoc on his skin for a time, but he also found it more inviting, the rich kids were nicer...and there were more chances for him to learn to drive. It was that fixation, the feeling of owning a car and pushing it to its limit, that first caused him to fall in with the Gearheads and become their go-to problem solver and secret keeper. In four years, this role has never chafed him or caused any sort of discomfort; he actually seemed to relish the idea of being needed so much to do such a variety of things for friends.

The only times he ever seemed to grow upset or implacable were the rare occasions when his own private life - usually messy breakups which he failed to contain - hit the group's radar and became a source for gossip.

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► extra information

Steakhouse fare.

Aleksei's Hitlist (W.I.P. NOT FOR YESSI'S EYES)

Yessi Astor (Mami⭐💋💕)

"What the-- That bitch. She has used my fingerprint again! No sense of personal space. I swear on my grandfather's fucking bones, I'm done letting my best friends see my dick."

You don’t get to pick your parents, your death, or your best friend. If she wwasn't so clingy I'd have thrown her from a moving car. If she were still a virgin I would have sold her to Satanists for a blood ritual. If she wasn't so hot I would push her out of a plane over Siberia. If she didn't act so much like...Yessi about everything, I would probably hate her.

But she does, and I don't. Actually, she's probably the only person I love in the world. Fierce. Adventurous. Energetic. Sexy. We've seen London. New York. Seoul. Havana. Brasilia. Tokyo. Vegas. We're heading right from the East Coast to Thailand after this - she's going to have a blast in the red light district while I tour the figh tclubs. I spent the laziest week of my life in Hawaii watching her try and squeeze selfie lighting from a volcano. If AJ wants me to come on a trip, Yessi comes along by proxy.

I don't think she knows that there aren't any Superchargers outside of LA, but that slut has stolen some of my best shirts, and last year in Vegas she pawned my sunglasses for boxing ticket money. She completely earned this.

AJ Tyler

"Bratán, you kill me inside. If you want to shut up a gossip columnist, give him nothing to gossip about. I thought that was obvious."

The last, least, and occasionally the greatest of us. AJ's fuckups are as glorious as they are avoidable, and I've lost endless man-hours that I could have spent on projects or interesting people dealing with his tantrums. Most of that wetwork involves a lot of yelling, a fair amount of drinking, and some occasional hugging for cooldown purposes. He's loud and stupid.

But he is my brother.

In four years, I'm the one that's done all the favors. I've never asked anyone for anything at anytime, and I never would. I'm not that needy. But if the tables were ever turned and it was me who needed someone to take a secret to the grave at 3 AM, AJ is the only person I would call. We owe each other that much.

(note: he needs help dressing since the breakup. someone in his circle clearly does not give a fuck about him, or he would join us in the 21st century and quit wearing supreme. the traitor will be weeded out as necessary.)

Monica Lee

"Don't ever tell the others, but I've never seen Oldboy. Feel like a movie tonight?"

Monica is a good girl. She's had a rough breakup, and she's playing it close to the chest. For two people who are mostly on the same wavelength, it's easy to tell. The other guys are lacking in the sensitivity department, so I've been trying to hang out with her more and get her back to a place where she's at least comfortable doing things outside of just racing. We've been good for each other's movie palettes. She helped me learn the ropes on the C-01, too, which is going to stick with me for the rest of my life.

Come to think of it, we've probably hung out since her breakup ten times more than we ever had previously. It was my loss. She's someone who's actually interesting. Martin is a dumb motherfucker.

Chrysler Reyes

"You know, the Mile High Club is not what they talk it up to be either. Yessi and I, we're flying to Vegas last year. We figure, 'what the hell.' 'What the hell' is my ears were popping the entire time. And they popped for the whole trip. For a whole week I have fucking vertigo. I had to lock her in the plane's bathroom on the flight back for my own good. I recorded her curses, they are hysterical. Here, you know what. I'll send them."

Chris and I had little interaction without AJ in the middle for the first couple years of high school. I was still getting the hang of living in America, and I preferred to keep my nights to myself. If you wanted to call AJ's reaction to me keeping my privacy 'barely tolerable,' Chris' vulgar, brash attitude was downright irritating. Things came to a head when he tried to light up in my M3, despite my repeated polite requests not to. When it looked like he was about to exhale all over my dashboard and into my air filters, I plucked the cigarette away and tossed it out the driver's window. We must have hit a pothole or something, because at the same time his head collided with the passenger's side window.

I knew the roads here were terrible, but damn. Luckily it barely qualified as a love tap.

Anyway, for whatever reason, Chris took offense with me for the poor state of Californian infrastructure. But laughter is the best medicine, and after a couple minutes of me refusing to take his outburst seriously, eventually he started to laugh even harder than I did. We got along after that until AJ's stupid fucking breakup; after that is when we really became close, with us taking turns babysitting. He's a perfectly capable blunt instrument when AJ needs something energetic; when a defter touch is required, I take over.

I like Chris a lot, which surprises even me. He's also the only person I can talk to at all about sex with objectivity. The girls tend to take offense when we bring up things that do or don't work for us.

Matt Brown

"You have to learn to read the room, Matty. You're going to get fucked up one day."

Matt is alright. He takes it too far sometimes and does not know when to step up when it's called for. We'll bum each other a cigarette if we need it and we watch MMA or boxing together at each other's places. I don't know what happened in March, and I don't care. He didn't call me, which means it's not my business.

Amanda Harrison

"So, be honest. How was the show? How did I do?"

I was probably one of the last people Amanda turned to for a place to crash. She kind of floated around between everyone else for a while, but one night she interrupted me in the middle of my workout saying she didn't know where else she'd be able to go that night. She was smiling when she said it; it was fucking heartbreaking. Nobody else lives with me, so she crashed in my bed while I worked out and fucked around with a mix. When she woke up in the morning, she said she'd heard me doing so. Now we play music together occasionally, and she frequents my place a little more. I think it helps her.

It's too bad about her parents, but there's nothing I can do to fix that. IT's not my business.

Valeria Drake

"I won't pretend I know what's so fucking interesting about him, but if he makes you happy, you may as well tell him. Or let him know he's missing out on a future Olympian. That always makes guys feel like shit."

I met Valeria through AJ. The little spitfire slid under my radar at first. That tends to happen when you are 6'1 and a girl has to tiptoe to headbutt your chin - which she did the first time I told her that. For the majority of our freshman year I had her convinced that I used her head as an armrest because that was how we showed brotherly affection in Russia. I wish she was still that gullible; I miss having somewhere to put notebooks when my arm got sore.

She's more than that, though. Four years of being around this hot-headed little surf rat have taught me that the best way to get close to her is to refuse to take her seriously when she's in a good mood. When you do that enough, she'll drop all pretenses; then it gets easier to read when she's in a bad mood. I think I'm probably better at that by now than anyone. Lately, it seems like most of those moods all stem from the same source.

That's not my business though.

Jules Baek

"..."

It's not your business.

smug

"I hide all the bodies and I'm extraordinarily pretty. That's all. Go look at AJ."

REBOOT COMING SOON. INVITE ONLY.

well now nobody's going to pm our discords, we're all just going to wait to make the first move

REBOOT COMING SOON. INVITE ONLY.

I've already talked to a couple people about relations with Aleks, but I should mention if anyone else wants to PM me with questions/ideas, go for it. I can PM you my Discord if you want to have a longer chat about it too.

REBOOT COMING SOON. INVITE ONLY.

Finished my character.

Monica Lee

_{MONICA LEE SOO-JIN}

18 • F • Bisexual

FC: JANG YE-EUN; Dialogue: E51F1C
♫

Can you hear, can you hear, can you hear my voice?
Coming through, coming through, coming through the noise
I'm floating through outer space
I'm lost and I can't find a way

♫

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► reputation

The only daughter from a really wealthy family, Monica has everything she ever wanted that money can buy. Growing up with a silver spoon in her mouth, it is safe to say that she is pretty spoiled and is used to getting whatever she wants. Her father's favourite girl, she was the kid that showed up at elementary school with the newest exclusive toy on the market. Plenty of her peers envied her and were jealous of her. As she moved on to Beverly High, the same cycle repeated again once more.

The moment she grew to love living life in the fast lane and all things fast and furious, things began to give a whole different meaning and purpose to her otherwise stale and boring life. She joined the Gearheads and found herself fitting nicely in a group that she had never did before. Sure, she had plenty of people that called herself 'friends', but many of them were simply hanging around with her to enjoy the benefits and perks of having a wealthy friend with too many cash to throw around. She's known for driving her sleek black motorcycle to school everyday, and those who anything about her knows that she isn't just all show.

She’s also not one to mince or sugarcoat words, and just simply says what’s on her mind.Although she isn’t good at expressing herself well, Monica is actually a rather caring individual, but also incredibly stubborn and assertive at times. She does tend to get upset when things don’t go her way, although she doesn’t always openly expresses her displeasure. Once one gains her trust and loyalty, she is stunningly loyal to them to the end of times, unless something drastic happens that changes her mind. She also has a playful and quirky side to her where she likes to tease people with snarky remarks and is unafraid of acting goofy.

► noteworthy appearance traits

Fair complexion, shoulder-length bob(blonde/black), brown eyes, baby face

► ride

Red Ducati Panigale V4

• Top Speed 190mph
• Redefined for Racing
• Specs
• Not the only motorcycle she owns, but this is the one she loves the most.

► current dilemma

Her parents have always wanted her to go to medical school and become a doctor. Although she is not interested in medicine or have any intentions to be a doctor, she has not told her them that, not knowing how to bring it up in fear of the repercussions and what they will do to her. What if they take away everything she has? She'd have really nothing then. Also she got dumped by her previous boyfriend recently, he could not stand her passion for racing and motorcycles, and always hanging around with other Gearheads. She is looking to get back into the dating game and hopefully find someone that will understand her this time.

► warning

Never damage her ride, even if it's just a scratch or there'll be hell to pay.

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► quirks

• Hums to herself when happy
• Plays with her hair when nervous
• Has an unhealthy obession with fried chicken

► hobbies

• Motorcycle Racing/Joyriding
• Playing Video Games
• Movie nights with friends
• Selfies - Everything needs a selfie
• Playing drums

► dreams

Continuing to live life on the fast lane. Not becoming a doctor or a lawyer and still remaining on the good side of her parents. Finding her soul mate would be the icing on the cake.

► fears

Being forced to stop racing for good. Never finding her soul mate and remaining lonely forever.

► likes/dislikes

✔ K-POP music
✔ Action movies
✔ Any hot Udon dish
✖ Being underestimated
✖ Gender role restrictions
✖ Orange juice

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► occupation

Street Racer. It's a lifestyle.

► family

• Richard Lee Sungjin (Father) - CEO of a Multi-National Pharmaceutical Corporation. He also has a doctorate in medicine and used to work as a researcher before starting up his company.
• Amy Lee Hyunjin (Mother) - Highly successful Criminal Defence lawyer with a sterling reputation. She is known to win most of the cases she takes up, no matter the type of client.

► brief history

Monica's life is not much different from the child of any wealthy family. She grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, had everything she desired that money could buy, and was spoiled in more ways than one. She did not had to grow through any of the difficulties her peers in the lower income families faced. The day she discovered the world of motorcycle racing was en eye opener for her. Her mother loved watching racing as well and happened to take her by chance on one of these events, and she ended finding herself enthralled by something that had never crossed her mind before. However, sports racing was not her animal. Street racing was. Nothing felt better than the exhilaration and euphoria from all the adrenaline pumping in her veins every race.

There was just something that racing in a motorcycle gave her that racing in a car did not. It was definitely more dangerous, and any crash or mistake on the road could be fatal, but that was all part of the thrill. It was like high stakes gambling, all or nothing. For almost the entirety of high school, her only other love had been Martin, but after so many years of being together, he had enough and called it splits. Apparently to him, she had been in one race too many, and he didn't like her constantly being in harms way while also constantly surrounded by other gearheads in a mostly male-dominated environment. She convinced herself that she was better off without him, but despite all the time that had passed, her heart ached to feel loved again.

The pressure from her parents to become either a doctor or a lawyer only become greater as she approached graduation. She knew what was expected of her, despite having no such interests in their aspirations of her. Finding it incredibly difficult to say no to them, she continued to act the obedient child despite the dilemma raging within her. The road trip organised by AJ was just the right thing she needed to forgot about her troubles in the mean time, and just enjoy graduation, at least while the fun still lasts.

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► extra information

Beef Udon

@TootsiePop@BrutalBx
I decided to change my FC choice by the way. No longer using Shin Ryujin.

@CosmicComet

i love her. we have decided to stan.