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Commencement: A Farewell to P.R.C.U. [COMPLETE]

| A Few Days Earlier |

Rory waved goodnight to Lorcán, turning off the TV mid rewatch of whatever schlocky action film he could find to turn his brain off to. He stretched and rose to his feet from the communal couch, wandering into his room in just an old pair of shorts. He had left the window open, as he promised, and had shoved most of his sporting equipment under his bed and most of his dirty clothes onto the closet floor. He sat down on his bed before laying down, his legs and feet dangling off the side as the top of his head pressed against the wall. He did his best not to think too much, but as per usual failed even that simple task.

A day ago, his biggest worries were if any of his crushes liked him back. Now, his biggest worry was that he'd be attending several funerals in a week with one of his closest friends being affiliated with the murders. And here he was, alive and well. Groomed was the word Jim had used to describe Rory's experience. It was an apt description. Hyperion’s Children wanted him in their ranks… certainly just because he was the closest they would get to the power of Hyperion. Of course, Jim wanted to use him too. And who knew what the Foundation would have planned for him.

If they made Amma a Dragon, what would they make him?

He sighed loudly, looking up to the ceiling as he listened closely for the familiar sound of beating wings.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Outside the window, he heard them. Gusts of air billowed into the room as wings beat downwards on their approach from above. Her feet were first to land on the windowsill, clad in well-worn sneakers. Tanned fingers wrapped around the casing, gripping tightly as she nimbly swung her legs inwards to rest her thighs on the sill. Her legs were bare beyond the brown cotton bike shorts she wore. Feathers rustled together, the sound louder than usual due to their rough and patchy state, as she tucked her wings in behind her.

Her head leaned down and into the window, revealing her wet mess of hair from the shower she’d taken not long ago. As she laid eyes on Rory’s relaxed form she bore a small, apologetic smile. Her eyes glanced over his unscarred skin quickly. She needed to make sure that he really had been healed earlier in the day.

“I, uh… I fell asleep in a tree.” She leaned further into the window as she pulled herself inside. Her feet touched the ground at the same moment her wings followed her in through the window. She clutched the backpack strap where it hung on her shoulder as she stood to her full height, her eyes glancing over the room. It was the first time she’d seen it from the inside. Much like her room, it looked lived in. Rory had filled it with himself, even if the floors looked suspiciously cleaner than the last time she’d spotted it from the living room. She wondered where his sports equipment had been stowed before she turned to him.

Her shirt was a relic from her rogue days. An oversized tee with the words Rocky Mountain Summer Camp of ‘95 written in white over the dark green color. The neckline was stretched a bit, but otherwise there were no indications that it was as old as it told anyone who read it. The backpack she unslung from her shoulder, holding it by the sewn-on strap that indicated it had broken multiple times, was a faded dark blue with patches of multiple state parks sewn into the fabric haphazardly. She looked down at it, her hesitation obvious as she chewed on her bottom lip, before she stepped over to Rory and held it towards him. Her eyes met his again, wings shifting behind her to rest at a comfortable place on her back.

“It’s a… peace offering.” Her gaze was anxious, but determined. She hoped that he would understand its meaning, and that he would accept it for what it meant for the both of them. She’d debated telling him to throw it away for her, like she had planned to in that desperate moment, but she couldn’t bear to part with it. “Could you hold onto it for me? Until after graduation?”

Rory raised an eyebrow, shooting her a quizzical expression while sitting up on the edge of the bed. He reached for the strap, taking the backpack from her. It was light, seemingly empty. Was he supposed to open it and look inside? Something told him it wasn't that kind of peace offering.

The realization was sudden as he had set the bag down near the foot of the bed. The fake Mei had been right. A whirl of emotions enveloped him as he recoiled from the bag. He looked back to Haven, his brow furrowed as it took him a moment to put the pieces together. She had packed a bag, ready to leave at any moment. But she was bringing it here. For him to hold on to. Until graduation.

He gave a small nod in acknowledgement, nodding towards the bed next to him. He didn't have the words to express his emotions, but gave her a soft and weary smile. ”I'll keep it safe.”

Haven watched with apprehension as Rory simply set the bag down. He didn’t realize what it was. He didn’t remember what the simulation told him. She’d been fretting over it since it was mentioned to him, and he hadn’t paid it any more mind.

Yet it was obvious when he connected the dots. The way that he moved himself away from it so hastily had the muscles of her shoulders tensing. The look he gave her twisted her heart and left her stomach weightless. It felt like a rejection, and yet he still invited her to sit beside him. She hadn’t expected it to go this way at all. It could have been a fight. He could have been relieved. This, somehow, felt like she had already broken his heart.

Her own heart was heavy in her chest as she moved to the bed, her eyes flitting between the bag and the empty space beside Rory. She slowly pulled off her shoes before she climbed on top of the comforter. Her body turned to face him, legs criss-crossing as she took a moment to breathe and adjust her wings behind her. She wrung her hands together in her lap before she gathered the courage to speak.

“I don’t want to run away anymore. I thought this would prove it to you, that… that I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t mean to cause you any pain.” She tilted her head to the side so she could see the emotions on his face. She wished he would say something. Even if it was to send her away. “I’m sorry.”

Rory shook his head softly at Haven's words, a pained frown replacing his usual smile. He reached a hand over to slip into hers in her lap, giving a gentle squeeze as he met her gaze. ”You don't… I wasn't trying to…” He paused, his tongue rubbing his cheek as he tried to parse out how to respond. This wasn't how he wanted this to go. Empathy was the route, hopefully that would work.

”I get it. Why you would want to run. Especially since we hadn't…” He let the pause hang, filling in the gap. All the words he had felt too strong this early or too crude to describe the night they shared. But that wasn't the most important thing at that moment. ”I appreciate the offering. I just… with everything that happened, I kind of assumed it was a lie. Or hoped it was a lie. I'm used to getting left behind. This-” He motioned towards the bag with his free hand, his other hand giving another gentle squeeze to Haven's hand with the other. ”It… scared me a little, is all.”

“Rory, you’re… You’re one of the reasons I want to stay.” She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed his fingers where they intertwined. His openness had her yearning to be closer to him. To comfort his fears as it would comfort her own. She moved herself closer, until her knees brushed against his thigh and hip. She looked into his clear blues, searching for the words that would bear her heart to him without moving too quickly. “I haven’t felt this way before… about anyone. I don’t want to let this go.”

Rory gave Haven a soft smile as she got closer, moving the hand that was in her lap to support him as he leaned back slightly to make sure he could maintain eye contact with Haven comfortably. ”I know… Haven, I know. I trust you.” His smile darkened for a moment, as he began to process his own words.

Haven… it couldn't be Haven. Not after what she went through. Not with everything they shared. He had to trust her. Especially if there was no one else he could trust. He tapped his thumbs on the sheets as he weighed his options.

It wasn't fair to bring her into this. But she was clever. She'd find out he was up to something regardless.

”Look, Haven… Jim asked me to help out with the investigation into what happened at the Trials. He…” Rory paused, his eyes turning towards the opposite wall as he weighed his options. His eyes landed on a group photo of Blackjack sitting on his shelf: a posed picture from the end of the last semester. Tad had taken it for them.

Rory's fingers clutched at the sheets, knuckles white as he closed his eyes. If Tad was right… someone on the team had been responsible for all of this.

”He doesn't know who could be involved. Wants me to fill in for Tad while he recovers, and sit in on some meetings. I just… need to figure out if I can handle something like that.” Rory shook his head slightly, small tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He hated having to do it this way… but he couldn't let down Thaddeus when he finally needed Blackjack for a change.

The relief Haven felt as he admitted his trust lifted the weight off of her heart. Those three words, she realized, meant more to her than the others that had been on her mind. So when he pulled his hand away from her, she didn’t notice how he also pulled his emotions away with him.

She listened to him speak, her head tilting to the right as his words gathered in her mind. So this was what Jim was speaking of earlier. It seemed to weigh on Rory’s mind; enough that his stress was showing physically. Her own heart saddened as she thought of Tad as he lied in critical care. She couldn’t imagine how Jessica was feeling now.

Her fingers twitched in her lap, wanting to reach out to him, but something about his last words had her holding back. She couldn’t tell if he was talking about the investigation, or if he was talking about their newly budding feelings for each other. She didn’t want it to be the latter, and yet the tears that pricked at the corner of his eyes suggested it.

She heard the room beside Rory’s become quiet. Lorcán and Aurora seemed to have fallen asleep by now. She’d noticed her friend’s voice earlier, but she’d been too distracted to mention Lorcán had a visitor in the other room. The silence gave her a moment to think so that her heart didn’t immediately assume the worst.

“They didn’t… catch all of them?” She started slowly, her mind still too sluggish from the day to fully comprehend what he was saying. The implication that whoever had been behind the attack still remained free had her wanting to support Rory, or Jim and Tad, in any way she could.

“I think you should do whatever you can to help Jim… and I’m glad that he feels like he can rely on you to fill in while Tad recovers.” She offered him a small smile, even as a sad feeling kept the dimples in her cheeks from appearing with it. “I’m here if you need help. With anything.”

Of course she was too clever for him. Haven knew a little too much as it was then, and talking about the investigation further… Rory knew it was a ticking time bomb. But the thing he had been too numb and jaded to realize was the subtle undertones of fear. It was concerning that at least one member of Hyperion’s Children was walking free, and was close to them. Rory felt his heart-rate rise, if only for a moment, as the gravity of a traitor in their midst was finally settling in.

For now… the only thing he could do that would be honest was to offer comfort.

Rory offered a small nod of thanks, leaning his body over towards her. He lifted his arms up to hold Haven’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze as he locked eyes with her. ”No one is messing with you on my watch, Wings.” His face was serious, even if his tone was a touch more playful. He accentuated the point by leaning ever closer, planting a soft kiss on her forehead and wrapping her in a light hug. ”If I get in over my head, I’ll let you know.”

Rory’s promise, paired with her favorite nickname he’d given her, had her heart fluttering. She was relieved to know that he still had her back even if he was going to be distracted with his own path. She could already see the distance in his gaze as he looked at her, and it seemed like she’d need to gather all of the patience and courage she had to hold her feelings in until they were both ready to admit them.

The kiss to her forehead soothed her if only for a fleeting moment. Her eyes closed as he pulled her into the hug. She knew he’d do all he could to keep her safe. Even if it meant putting his own feelings on the sidelines until he saw fit to acknowledge them.

Yet as she thought of the promise he’d just made, the words of a certain red haired Foundation transfer crashed into her peaceful state like a bird into a clean window. She reluctantly withdrew from the hug, even though she desperately craved to be held and comforted further. What she was about to say was best said face to face. It would only add more to his mental load, but she wanted to make sure he understood her. Her hands wrapped around one of his, her eyes as cloudy as a stormy day.

“I think I have more to worry about than Hyperion’s children, Rory.” Her voice was low, as if she feared they were listening in. She looked down at their hands, her thumb tracing his knuckles. Pieces of her drying hair fell around her face to shroud the contours of her round cheeks. “Before the trial… Alyssa told me that some of the Foundation students just went missing over time. Like they just disappeared. Students like me, who-”

Her breath hitched as she found it hard to utter the words

“- Who they call sub-class.” She still couldn't look him in the eyes. It was hard to also put this burden on his shoulders, but he needed to know about it. Just in case... “If I disappear too… I want you to know that I didn’t run away. That they might have something to do with it.”

Of all the things Rory felt, seething rage was the most pronounced at Haven's warning. Sorrow and concern were also present… but the adrenaline of the day paved a road for anger to be most pronounced. Part of him wanted to get up and find Torres that instant, and fight his way through all the Foundation Force to get to her. His nostrils flared, and his jaw tightened. His voice, too, was low. But his tone was more vicious than fearful. ”They would be making a royal mistake if they tried that here, Haven.”

He paused, taking a breath before just shaking his head and trying to let the anger dissipate. He traced a thumb along the back of her hand, treasuring the feeling of connection. The awful feelings seeped down into his chest, his shoulders slumping a little under invisible weight. ”This year isn't starting how I wanted it to.”

The tone of voice immediately gave Haven the courage to look into his eyes. Her eyes cast upwards, chills running down her spine and through her wings to the tip of her primaries as she saw the subtle rage within his expression. She was surprised that he felt so passionately about it, considering the power that the Foundation had over them. Compared to it and its people in power, she felt like a sparrow in a world of vultures.

Rory on the other hand, with his ability allowing him to even the playing field so easily with will alone, stood a chance against it. She didn’t expect him to do it in her name, and yet knowing that he’d threaten such an organization just for her filled her heart to the brim.

Reality seeped in sooner than she would have liked, and she found her wings and shoulders slumping as he did the same. Would there be anything left of her to save by the time he found her?

“At least we have each other… and the team. I don’t think I’d be able to do it without you.” She meant it with her entire soul and body. Her thumb rest over his, stilling his movements momentarily. “Do you want to just… lay together until we sleep? I just want to be close to you.”

Rory nodded quietly. He didn't have the energy or desire for anything more than that... and barely had the energy for words at this point. He stretched himself out, lying down next to Haven and settling himself in.

The only thing he wanted, in that moment, was to stop feeling alone.

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Canis Dormitory, P.R.C.U. Campus - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Take on Me #3.017: The Lying Man

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_{Interaction(s): Haven - @Skai, Jim O'Neil - @Lord Wraith}

Previously: Dragon

After all this time, and Rory Tyler still couldn't quite get the knot in his tie neat. It was a little crooked, and was pulled a bit too tight. He somehow had a way of screwing up even a simple Four-in-Hand knot. But, given he had finally gotten the length right on the third attempt, he'd settle for it. Rory looked himself over in the mirror: he had opted for the school uniform, minus the blazer. He had heard the mumblings about the dress code, the announcements, and even he could tell this had something to do with the recent "audit" by the Foundation. It was a small rebellion, if it could be called that, to stick with the dress code as much as possible. Of course, he kept his sleeves rolled up on his shirt: he needed a bit of comfort, after all.

Rory looked about the room, sighing as he tossed a hastily discarded set of boxers into a pop-up mesh hamper near the door. It was overflowing, a combination of mostly his clothes... though he recognized a shirt or two of hers mixed in. In better circumstances, he would be overflowing with emotions he wouldn't even be able to name. But in this moment, he just felt a little cold. Haven had gone back to her dorm to change and get ready. His small room somehow felt large without her presence hogging up the bed.

Rory closed the window to his room, grabbed his backpack, and a water bottle, and began his hike across campus. Classes didn't start for a bit, but he had a pit stop to make on the way.

---

Rory took a deep sigh as he stood in front of the Administration Building. He felt an impending dread rising into his throat as he approached. He had been here a number of times, mostly to help out his Aunt. But here, he couldn't help but feel like he was betraying his friends. At the same time, he knew this was the only way he could protect them.

So, he took the plunge.

Rory knew his way to Jim's office well, giving a small nod to any faculty and staff he passed. He had his usual bright smile plastered on his face like a shield... or a mask.

He gave a couple quick knocks at Jim's office door. "O'Neil... it's Rory. I'm here about the, uh-" Rory stretched out the pause, trying to find some clever cover story. Drawing a blank, he settled for vague. "The thing."

"Enter." Jim replied waiting for the door to open before beckoning Rory to take a seat in front of his desk. Looking over his reading glasses at Rory while the young man took a seat, Jim put down the pen held in his mechanical hand. While most of the school had switched to digital technology, there was still something about the feel and smell of ink on paper that Jim preferred.

"I suppose y'all have made a decision then?" He asked, leaning back in the tall leather chair he occupied.

"I did." Rory sat down in the chair, his hands resting on his knees as his thumbs tapped nervously to a rhythm neither of them could hear. "I don't like it. I don't want to do this. I don't even know if I believe one of us could side with Hyperion after the shit he did to us. But I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I didn't check this out. I'm willing to take the lead on this... and fill in for Tad." While his hands betrayed his nervous demeanor, the rest of his body sat straight in his chair. His voice was unwavering.

Of course, something bugged him. "Did Tad explain why he thought someone in Blackjack might have been involved with Hyperion's Children?"

"He didn't have time," Jim replied, "Unfortunately by the time I was aware of what Thaddeus was looking into, he was already in the state in which he remains," The older man took a long pause. "House Orcinus, the Hyperion's Children cell that was operating here on Pacific Royal, had a code phrase for greeting each other. 'The winds are blowing', which would then be responded by someone in the know with 'But the surface is still.' What we do know at this time, is before he was injured, Thaddeus was testing the validity of that passphrase."

"Ms. Rivers has tried to look into his mind and his memories to see where he had heard it, but all we've been able to confirm was that it was during the construction of the Trial and with Robert Arkwright present. Unfortunately, the identity of the Blackjack member is skewed in Thaddeus' mind currently," Jim continued to explain, "Robert Arkwright is in the wind as it currently stands, so I'm 'fraid that's where the trail goes cold. It would appear that Michael Tableau at least had the foresight to keep members' identities hidden from one another. Interrogation of those apprehended also hasn't turned up any leads. Which is why we need y'all, they clearly thought they could make an ally of y'all." Jim stifled a chuckle.

"Cahors I'd get, y'all however, I know y'all Rory. Y'all are good people, not the kind Hyperion typically targeted. The only thing I can think of is they wanted y'all for your abilities, a sort of figurehead to usher in as the new Hyperion."

"Right... so our best lead is a ghost in the breeze..." Rory sighed, his face grave as he folded his arms and furrowed his brow. The fact that Jim also had a feeling that Orcinus was trying to recruit him and make him a figurehead sent chills down his spine. The thought had crossed his mind in the simulation: his "tests" seemed geared for a particular outcome. Compared to what Haven went through, and what little he had heard of the others... he had gotten off easy. After all, Amma had seemed properly broken when she-

"Wait... they were trying to win me over in the simulation. Were we able to record footage or data on what everyone went through in the simulation? Were the techs monitoring us the whole time?" Rory leaned forward in his seat, hands gripping the arm rests tightly as he dialed in fully.

"Yeah, the entire simulation was monitored, we cut the broadcast to the campus but we have it." Jim replied, "Techs have signed a confidentiality agreement, but I can get y'all access if there's something y'all think would be helpful. I warn ye, a lot of it is hard on the stomach. Y'all may want someone with you before watching Miss Barnes' experiences."

Rory gave a nod, his knuckles white on the armchair, before he released his grip and sat with his back to the chair. "Yeah... I don't even know if it'll turn anything up. It's just a theory... a rough idea."

Rory took a deep breath, before finally approaching the more dreaded subject. "As for filling in for Tad... what do you need from me, coach?"

"In essence it's an administrative role, y'all are adults now so there's a lot of less of corralling the team. You'd be responsible for managing morale, ensuring everyone is staying atop of their school work and that their needs are met. Essentially y'll would be acting as their agent of success. If this was a freshman class, y'all be in charge of making sure they were fed and had their naps but Blackjack is on the verge of being kicked out of the nest." Jim explained, "Thaddeus was looking forward to a hands-off year. They're old enough now that y'all shouldn't have to worry about keeping them alive. On task and focused, well y'all know them even better than I do." Jim offered a knowing but sympathetic smile.

Rory let go a small sigh of relief. Administrative work wasn't too bad. Boosting morale would take more out of him emotionally than nor al, but it was doable. "Keep everyone on track... I can do that." He slowly rose to his feet, giving Jim a playful two finger salute. "Roger that, chief... I'll give it my best."

"I know y'all will make me proud," Jim replied, beckoning Rory goodbye, "Don't let me take anymore of y'all time. Y'all know where to find me if you need anything."

Rory gave a nod as he left, a cold feeling in his chest. Going into this year, he finally felt like he understood and belonged somewhere. He felt like he had a family that cared for him and that he could be honest and open with. Now, he just had to find someone else like him.

He had to find a liar.

Commencement: A Farewell to P.R.C.U. [COMPLETE]

Alright losers, we're back again for another Webby Awards, brought to you by Tito's and Coke. What another absolute nightmare wonderful Chapter we've just finished! As a prelude to the main awards, I was peer pressured into giving you all compliments again, so here we go. I apologize in advance for the drop in quality.

To jump straight into the awards for Chapter 2, we're gonna start off with a personal favorite that touches my heart. I am a big action fan. I like explosions, fast cars, and one-liners. I am also a fan of more brutal, gritty, borderline body horror action. I like everything from Fast and the Furious franchise to the sort of gritty tension of a Green Room. So, it should come as no surprise that I loved the action that came from the posts involving Katja Kruger written by @Zoldyck. Best action, very gritty and disgusting. I love me some good brawling. Between the sort of chase sequence to Katja's beatdowns, there was plenty of straight up action this chapter to keep my little lizard brain sated. Brilliant work.

What I love almost as much as action is good, old-fashioned, horrible family dynamics. It makes my skin crawl, reminds me a little too much about my childhood, and raises my blood pressure. I can comfortably say @PatientBean batted this award out of the park, namely Favorite Family Trauma. I hate, truly and visciously hate, Calliope's family dynamic. I grew pretty desensitized to most of the trauma posting this chapter by the time we got to the end of it, but the post revolving around Calliope and her family still boils my blood to even think about. That is great writing, honestly. It takes good writing to rile me up like that. Bravo.

While we're in the neighborhood, I have to give it up to @Hound55 and @PatientBean for writing perhaps my favorite wholesome moment I've seen on RPG in ages. Calliope and Banjo reuniting in the simulation, and their little jokes and banter despite the horrific treatment they'd undergone in the Trials... chef's kiss, honestly. Candy is slept on far too much, but this single moment cemented that their relationship works well because of the complexity of the characters and just the way their individual weird shapes align perfectly. Great work, both of you.

Speaking of Wholesome, Aurora Mitchell as written by @Melissa managed to once again secure what I am now referring to as the Best Bean award. Every single Aurora post had me emotional, angry, and upset that anything bad was happening to her. Mel does a wonderful job of making Aurora's feelings so visceral and clear that I can directly empathize with her in any given scene. I think a lot of writers would struggle to hit the same emotional notes during Aurora's tumultuous journey in this Chapter. Well done.

Keeping on a positive streak, I want to commend @Lord Wraith for the Best usage of AR technology in his posts. Lorcán's arc this chapter was a bit more on the comedic side, but I really liked it. I come from a more TV/Film background when it comes to writing, and the posts in this chapter felt the most cinematic from you. I mean, I also know some of the stuff you were setting up for individual posts and for my Rory posts, and it was all brilliant camera work (so to speak). I liked the visuals you worked on this chapter.

Speeding right along, the other most cinematic/TV moment came I can think of came from @Skai. Cliffhangers are an art form. What makes a cliffhanger even better is when it leaves you speechless, you are so certain that a certain outcome is going to happen, and then the ripcord is pulled out from under you and you are delighted to discover an awful fate was not met for a beloved character. I straight up gasped at work when I skimmed the Harper and Haven collab posts to discover Haven was not, in fact, in a coma and/or dead from the simulation pulling off her neural link. My words are less coherent here... but that was definitely the Best Plot Twist of this chapter.

Now, as we near the last few awards, I want to give a brief round of applause to @Roman for coming in swinging late in the chapter. I am giving him the Best Self-Defeating Character award because it's a good pun and this is my awards show. In all seriousness, the Gil posts were absolutely bone-chilling in ways I can't quite describe. A lot of the horror and trauma in most of this chapter delved deep into character history... but there was something about the specific horror that Gil went through that really shook me in an interesting way. And I think that's mostly because of the horror of Gil's powers, but also just who he is as a character. Faceless Gil is a terrifying thought, I hate it, screw you for making me think it. I also love what little glimpse we've gotten of Gil at the start of Chapter 3 that stems from what he went through in the Trials.

Now... as much as Gil's hell was uncomfortable, there is one person who managed to write a post that made me so uncomfortable it took me four times to actually sit down and read the post. The award for Most Uncomfortable I've Been Reading a Post, of course, goes to @Qia for the shit you pulled in The Cat Gets the Tongue. It's a great post, but I think the horror revolving around body image and the specific, small body horror of having someone fuck with your hair and scar you and that person being your sister that really bothered me. Not in like an actual discomfort, or something I'm upset about. It was just very visceral and specific in a way that struck me out of nowhere. It is a very well written post, in my top 3 for this Chapter, and it shows very strong talent.

Last, and certainly far from least, comes my final award. You see, this chapter focused a lot on the darkest versions of our characters. Anti-Rory was brilliantly written by Wraith, there were some very fun dopplegangers of family, friends, and loved ones... but above all, a single doppleganger stands out for one specific reason: it was very hard to tell they were a doppleganger, and I am left with so many more questions than answers. @Rockette easily wins the award for Favorite Doppleganger, which is going to be my shadow Favorite Character award for this chapter. I think the post with Amma fighting herself in the simulation was brilliant, dramatic, and poetic. I also get more and more confused on who or what Amma is the farther we get into this RP, and I absolutely love it.

Anyways... well, that's it. I don't think I missed anyone. Please feel free to post your own superlatives/awards down in the comments, ring that bell or whatever... I'm going to get some rest.

I love you all, see you at the end of Chapter 3.

Commencement: A Farewell to P.R.C.U. [COMPLETE]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Matrix - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Hope in Hell #2.058: Dragon

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_{Interaction(s): Himself}

Previously: Nothing Left to Give

Rory crashed into the wall of the hallway as he desperately flung himself forward in the hopes of finding any of his teammates alive. This was all a game… no, a test? That had to be it, if they wanted him to wear this getup. The halls were once again white, sterile, and empty. He immediately rushed left, sprinting with all the strength and speed he had honed while keeping his eyes up and scanning for any sign of… well, anyone, at this point. The hallway was unnaturally straight and long, with a single door swinging open near the end. Rory’s eyes focused in as he sprinted for it, sliding to a stop in front of it as he propped his arms up into the doorway to catch himself. His panting was loud and borderline feral, his shoulders hunched forward in anticipation of danger. The mask gleamed in the light, save for the single smear of blood near the eyes and the greek symbol emblazoned on the forehead.

It's a room not unlike a cell: cloaked in shadow with soft featherings of light bidden by the slivers in each panel of steel that reveal the darkness of the ocean yonder their constraints. Teasing glimpses of life in the deep void that mankind has barely trekked, therein lurked something better suited to the title of the unknown.

The misunderstood, the being that clamored through life as the harbinger of pain and rage.

Amma.

She had been fitted in cumbersome chains, looped around her delicate throat and more woven around her wrists and slight frame, the AR suit doing little to conceal her modesty where she had been attacked and beaten, the blemish of a vicious cut down her front now blackened and red, an angry swell of power that churned at her breast and lapped at the edges of reality. The world summoned to her anguish and the HZEs frothed with madness with silver flares of softened light coiling betwixt her and him.

Her lashes fluttered, eyes beholden to that gleaming mask defiled by blood, her lips peeled back over gleaming teeth awash in hated red as she moved, fingers arched as she crawled forward liken to a chained beast.

"Who are you." It was not an inquiry bated in confusion, but rather a demand, her usual cadence deepened into a feral husk of a whisper.

Rory remained silent for the moment as he stood his ground, one hand slipping into his robe to reach for the folded metal ball he had held on to. It was the closest facsimile he had to a weapon. His blue eyes remained fixed on Amma, trying desperately to scan her expression and appearance for any way to test if it was truly her. Of course, he had nothing to base his analysis on. She wasn’t brooding and quippy… but given her situation, he couldn’t exactly put it past her to be more prone to rage and intimidation. But Rory straightened his back as he looked down, slipping the metal ball out of his pocket and into his hand underneath his flowing robes.

“Rory,” he answered simply. His voice was still shaking from the adrenaline, and filled with a twinge of hesitation. “Are you… real?” His eyes remained open and unblinking as he watched her carefully. He could practically feel the buzzing energy of HZEs swarming. He hadn’t felt that from the simulation itself before… but the simulation had never tried to kill him and psychologically torture him before either. He didn’t understand the rules anymore, and instead opted to loom in the doorway. “You need to tell me if you’re real, Annabelle. I’m getting real sick of seeing fakes of us.”

“Rory…” She uttered, his name rolling through her lips and tongue, sliding off from the pout of her lip on a hiss of recognition. “Tyler.” Through the gloom her eyes tracked down his figure concealed by the robes, every flicker of lash peering deep, slow increments of her constricted pupils that speared through the entirety of his frame shadowed against the entryway.

“So, you wear a mask too.” Amma lurked, hands and knees, crawling and inching closer and closer with links of chain rattling in the dark. “Tears of blood, mark of Who, I wonder.” Her whispers purred away into shadow, broken and bleeding remarks shattered, her face and body warped and broken and bound. She finally stood to her full height, revealing the violence she had endured.

“Real. No.” Her head canted, black strands pooling over her blemished shoulders marked by the defiler whose talons had embedded deep. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Annabelle - another name to add to my flesh, another for the epitaph.” She holds up her inked and scarred hand, fingers splayed, and counts them down. “Five names, five summons, five meanings.”

She approached Rory carefully until the chains snapped and pulled taut, preventing her from moving any further, and there her eyes churned and wept, black marred down her cheeks and distinct against the bruises slowly beginning to darken and warp.

“What is your role to play here? Are you the knight to come put down the dragon? Do you come to me, now, to seek revenge for those I took away from you? Lorcán,” Amma purred around his name, lips pulled into a sliver of a smile. “Katja.. Maybe I’ll take Haven too. She wants so desperately to know me- asks so many questions.”

“Gil,” she breathed, lashes fanned low, lost in sudden memorium. “Harper. Aurora. Calli. Banjo.”

Everyone.

---

Commencement: A Farewell to P.R.C.U. [COMPLETE]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Matrix - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Hope in Hell #2.042: You're No Good

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Himself}

Previously: Nothing Left to Give

“Very good Rory, but there's more.”

Rory felt his blood run cold, turning from his own slumped figure and looking back towards where the table and chair once stood. He was met again with a dark void. He could feel his body feeling less stable, like he was on the verge of falling apart. Time was just about up. He looked to the gun, still feeling cold steel in his hands, and used his remaining time to crush the firearm in on itself. He pressed his hands together, the steel giving way and folding itself into a rough ball.

“What makes Rory Tyler tick? It’s not family.” Two gunshots echoed behind Rory from where his siblings had just been.

Rory felt his body rearrange himself. He felt lighter, falling to his knees. This wasn’t real. They weren’t real. He had to keep playing. He had to-

“Hopefully it’s not friendship.” The voice laughed viciously as a hologram of Lorcán electrocuting the doppelganger Rory played in front of the real man.

Rory’s eyes were locked on the hologram, it’s cold glow washing over his face and burning the image into his eyes. Lorcán’s expression was new… practically twisted. Rory couldn’t pull himself to look away. He swayed slightly, his nerves and sense of balance fried as his nervous system went into shock.

“Could it be a rivalry?” The voice asked again, the hologram showing Katja now covered in the blood and bodies of her parents.

Rory dropped a hand to the ground to steady himself, looking away once he registered what he was seeing. This was the game. Hurt them, push them to the brink. This was personal. He could tell that much. The why didn’t make sense. Who had they possibly pissed off? Why were they going after Blackjack? This couldn’t be-

“Or love?”

No no no no _{no no no no}

The winged girl on the table being ripped apart played in front of Rory, her screams originally foreign before Haven’s cries and protests were mixed in and eventually overwhelmed the recording.

Rory threw up.

His head throbbed, his fists clenched tight. His fingernails on his left hand dug into his skin until small beads of crimson dripped down the length of his palms. His mouth stung with the taste of bile, his head swimming. He couldn’t think, every fiber of his being desperate to move but his body proved uncooperative. He had to find her. He was tired of playing games. He shoved the metal ball into a pocket in his suit.

“Do you crave power? Recognition? Perhaps you want people to stop overlooking you?”

Rory shakily stood up, only to find himself on a small pedestal. In front of him was Blackjack, each member bound, gagged and a noose around their neck while they stood on a trap door. “Choose one to save, condemn the rest,” the voice instructed. A wheezing laughter filled the room. “Or open the pedestal and save them all, save us all.”

Rory’s gaze immediately locked with the winged figure in a hood. Tears streamed down his face. It wasn’t a choice. He fell forward, off the pedestal, and connected with the hard ground. His hands had barely cushioned his fall as he landed on his side. The throbbing pain was muddled as he pulled himself up into a sitting position, looking up towards his real family. This wasn’t a choice. Not for Rory, at least. He pushed himself onto his feet, a hand catching the pedestal for balance, as he positioned himself over it. He cautiously lifted the lid, only to be greeted by a pair of neatly folded black robes. Atop them sat a smiling mask, its forehead marked with the letter ‘Upsilon.'

Him.

It always came back to him.

Rory’s eyes studied the mask for a moment, as he could feel his vision righting itself. He looked up for a moment as his right hand lifted the mask into his bloodied left hand. His breathing was uneven, as he remembered the words from years ago. If he stood by his side, he could have anything. He felt the inside of the mask with his right hand, checking for anything toxic or sticky, before setting it aside and sliding on the robes. His left hand cradled the front of the mask, sliding it on over his head and leaving a bloody smear on the front. He lifted his hands, standing up taller as he wore Hyperion’s outfit. He looked up, towards the ceiling. He screamed, “You’ve made your point! You win! I’m in… You can have me. Killing them doesn’t help any of us.”

"I'm glad you finally saw reason," A voice said from behind Rory as he was greeted by a blonde woman dressed in a shimmering gown. She towered over him, her chest at his eye level while long, blonde hair spilled over her shoulders. ”We can finally be together, we can be stronger together."

“We all can," Another female voice piped up as a familiar pair of wings dragged themselves along Rory's back flirtatiously before a third woman dropped from the ceiling, adjusting her black hair before smiling at Rory.

“As Hyperion, you can have anything or anyone you want." Mei sang sweetly to Rory, “Who are we to reject the savior of all Hyperhumans?"

“But we're not safe yet," The winged woman whispered in Rory's ear, “Interlopers masquerading as our friends still run in this maze. We need to stop them." She paused, the three women simultaneously turning to reveal a door. "Please, Hyperion, your utopia must come true. You need to stop the interlopers."

The tall blonde smiled wickedly, stating one last thing. “Starting with the interloper from the Foundation."

Rory turned his gaze back towards the three women… or rather, the cheap simulations. His mind was still recovering from its fog, but even disoriented he knew when he was being underestimated yet again. This is what they thought he wanted. But he steeled his jaw. He knew where he could find at least one of his teammates now. After that, he could improvise.

He quickly moved through the door, running with urgency as he looked for someone... anyone, really. It sounded like they were leading him towards Amma. She definitely wasn't his preferred ally in this… but at this point, he'd settle for even Tad.

"Do not fail us, Hyperion." The chorus of women called after Rory, "We'd hate to think of the consequences of a deceiver in place of a leader."

Commencement: A Farewell to P.R.C.U. [COMPLETE]

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Matrix - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Hope in Hell #2.029: Nothing Left to Give

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Himself}

Previously: Rocket Man

As smoke burned his lungs, his new partner fought a creepy clone of another of his crushes, and his teammate screamed below him, Rory's eyes shifted down the towards the other side of the room that was farthest from the chaos. The metal grates creaked and groaned underneath his newfound mass. He didn't want to leave his team, but he wasn't going to be much use if he was charred or dead.

Rory pushed off with a powerful leap, bounding along the spots most supported by steel beams as he ran for his best approximation of an exit. He needed a way out, his stinging eyes full of tears and head pounding from the smoke.

As he continued to fight and push through the smoke, Rory stumbled into a new room. The air cleared, his breathing returning to normal before finding himself in a dark, empty room illuminated by a sole light hanging above a round table. The light reflected off something metallic as Rory's eyes wandered toward the object immediately recognizing it as his father's service weapon. He took a few steps towards the gun, feeling the familiar weight and coldness of the grip. He instinctively removed the magazine, seeing only the single bullet loaded. He set the mag down for a moment so he could pull back the slide, checking that it was empty. One bullet.

The sound of three lights snapping on illuminated the bodies of three more young adults, each with a sack over their head obscuring their identities but their muffled voices were familiar. Rory's heart jumped into his throat, his hands dropping the gun back onto the table as he started to run towards the figures. He knew it wasn't real... but there were parts of the brain he couldn't shut off. He stopped himself mid- sprint, rolling back onto his heels as his feet came close to a ledge. A chasm separated Rory from the figures.

Two were male, one was female.

"Choose one to die."

The haunting chorus returned, its whispers seemingly coming from all around Rory.

Rory looked back towards the metal table, his breathing more ragged as he felt his blood pressure rise. He shouldn't have left Haven alone. He should have helped Katja up. He should have known they were in danger immediately. He should have stopped Amma from running. He should-

NO... in through your nose, out through your mouth. This isn't real...

Rory took a few steps from the ledge, taking deep breaths as he stepped away from the chasm. He ignored the muffled pleas. They were just code anyways.

Ok... stop. Whoever hacked this is fucking with you. They could have just crushed us flat or fucked with the neural stuff... Saw rules... you play the game, you survive, right? Rory looked up to the sky for a timer. No timer... maybe it wasn't saw rules.

"Choose one to die."

The chorus of whispers was sickening, but Rory shuffled over to the table nonetheless. Firing a gun was one of the few things Cole had ever felt worthy of his time to pass on. A miserable attempt at a legacy. His hands felt natural sliding the magazine in, pulling back the slide to prime the last round. He cocked back the hammer with his thumb as he held the gun in both hands, left hand cradling his right.

His eyes glazed back over the three figures. He recognized the two on the ends by their outfits alone. They were always so bad at folding their own laundry. He tuned out their voices as he continued taking deep breaths. The middle one looked... wrong. He didn't look good in a suit. It seemed too constricting on him. Rory stepped up a few feet from the ledge, barrel of the gun aimed towards the ground in front of him. He paused as he looked between the three figures.

"Choose one to die."

Rory's mouth felt dry. It wasn't a choice. Not for him. It didn't matter if this was fake or real. He was their big brother, and a big brother would do anything for his siblings.

Even if it meant sacrifice.

Rory raised the gun towards the middle figure. He closed one eye, steadying his hands. He took a breath in through his nose, and then let the air seep out through his mouth as his finger squeezed the trigger.

Bang.

Commencement: A Farewell to P.R.C.U. [COMPLETE]

| A Few Years Earlier |

Rory rested on the benches in the stadium, watching the Chimeras playing a Hyperball scrimmage match against each other. He was sipping on his hyper-aid, having overdone it earlier in the match. He tried his best to sit up straight, the wooziness of intoxication wearing off. His eyes remained trained on the upper goals, keeping a close eye on the defenders and strikers vying for a spot in the air. He looked down periodically at a set of index cards resting on his lap, sorting through his fellow athletes. He could always copy a flying ability, sure. But training them for a prolonged period was dangerous. And it left him open and vulnerable to those more skilled at flight than he was. The lack of vertical game was going to be a problem, both here and in the ARC.

Rory switched over to his index cards covering some of the first folks he met. Lorcán... Hot Shot. A jet of flame to launch him up could work. He'd have to keep that on the short list. Haven... wings. The body horror of that was enough to send a chill down Rory's spine. She made them look good, but they were not his vibe. She made them look-

Rory's eyes shifted up to look back at the field, to another one of the younger members on the Hyperball team. She cocked back the ball and launched it nearly halfway down the field, and into the clear and open goal. It was an impressive shot, and a remarkable show of muscle. Rory looked back down at his notes. Another one of the folks he met early on... Katja Kruger. Density Manipulation. He looked back to see Katja lift up another teammate in a bear hug during a wave of congratulations, and watched as she tossed the teammate up into the air slightly with ease before catching her again.

Wait a second...

Rory stood up, making his way towards the rest of the team after downing his hyper-aid. He scooped up his index cards, shoving them into his pocket as he jogged towards Katja to catch her before she got back to the locker room. "Kruger! I've got a new play idea... I call it the-"

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Matrix - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Hope in Hell #2.018: Rocket Man

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Haven - @Skai, Katja - @Zoldyck, Doppelgangers - @Lord Wraith}

Previously: I Want to Run and Hide

As soon as the lights turned off, and Haven’s hand squeezed his with every ounce of strength she seemed to have, the absolute gravity of the situation dawned on him. In his defense… alternate versions of themselves as opponents? It felt like something that Blackjack would do: pit new Pacific Royal students against a simulation of senior hotshots. It was safer to assume Haven, Calli, and Amma were overreacting. It was becoming clear that this wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t the simulation that was programmed by Pacific Royal. The specific implications were lost on him, but he took the moment to squeeze Haven’s hand back. As his environment changed, Rory instinctively tried to take a step forward. The unexpected resistance from the tar-like substance drew his eyes down. The walls, the ceiling… everything on initial view screamed action set-piece.

“Hey, bro.”

Rory raised his gaze up towards the metal-grated ceiling, eyeing a pair of boots. He could see, faintly, the mop of orange hair and practically glowing eyes peering out from the dark figure. Rory’s mind raced at a million miles a second. How did Lorcán get all the way up there so quick? And where was everyone else?

“Run.”

The jet flames, the sudden heat, everything… it was enough to kick Rory into full gear. He eyed the grates above, the dark corridor in front of them, and then looked towards Haven and Katja. There wasn’t a lot of vertical space… and he knew they weren’t going to be able to run faster than the flames. Split second, though, Rory saw Katja’s eyes meet his. The grin on her face told him enough. Vertical was the way to go… and there was only one way Rory was getting up there. His gaze then shifted to Haven, who had a death grip on his hand. His words had a surprising confidence to them, a decisiveness reserved only for when he was on the field. Simulations would have to qualify for now. ”I’ll make a path… follow me up.”

Rory quickly pulled his hand away from Haven. He took a step next to Katja, immediately squatted and lifted his arms to protect his head.

Katja looked over at Haven for a second as Rory got into position. “Don’t worry about it Valkie, he’ll be fine. As will I. I’ll scale the walls to come after you guys. All you’ve gotta do is stay close to him and back him up, no matter what happens. But I think you’ve got that sorted already.” She gave a playful wink before finally turning to the pressing matter at hand.

Katja reached down to grab Rory by the collar of his A.R. suit. Picking him up with ease, as he felt about as heavy to her as a Hyperball would for an ordinary person. Katja then steadied herself as she stretched her free arm out in front of her, using her hand to estimate the distance between herself and the endzone. That being the exact spot anti-Lorcán’s boots were located on the overpass above.

Closing her fist as if to mark her target, Katja pulled her free arm down to generate just that extra bit of momentum for the one that held Rory as she used all the strength she deemed necessary to get him where he needed to go without risking him going into any of the dangerous machinery above. “Now!” She barked out as she executed the move that she and Rory had rehearsed so many times, tossing him up in the air with a throw that would’ve been the envy of many quarterbacks.

The surge always felt… unnatural. Warm. Alien. He could practically feel the space between muscle fibers knotting themselves together. He felt the weight of gravity pulling on him more than usual second by second. On the outside, he didn’t appear much different. Especially not as he had left Katja’s grip and hurdled through the air like a missile. Internally, despite the horror of the situation, there was a rush. The adrenaline that coursed through his system was a byproduct of his power. As much as he hated the aftermath, the endorphins made using his powers was intoxicating in its own ways.

Harder.

He kept his muscles straining, tightening the bonds between the muscles in his arms and shoulders and neck as he rocketed up towards the grate ceiling where the anti-Lorcán stood. As soon as he felt hard contact against his back, Rory lifted his head and spread out his arms. The metal grating barely stood a chance against the human cannonball. The section bent and broke, metal cracking and snapping against Rory’s upper back and arms.

The boots flew off of the grating before they suspended in mid air, hanging by a silk string as the figure who had once represented Lorcán now hung upside down angrily eying Rory.

"I thought you were taking me to the dance." She hissed venomously, firing webbing towards Rory in an effort to stick him to the ground.

"But no, that feathered floozy got to you first." Her tone was split between malice and sobbing as Mei swung herself up to the ceiling and stuck there.

"I thought you were one of the good ones, decent and honorable. A man of his words, but no, you're like all the rest. Just another dick that thinks with the small head between his shriveled up balls."

Rory’s heart sank as the words cut deep into his chest. He recognized her voice instantly. As he had rocketed through the grating at an angle, he ducked his shoulder into a roll and slid out of the way of Mei’s first web attack. His eyes shifted between the hanging Lorcán and the swinging Mei. His heart raced in his chest as he kept himself low to the ground, ready to spring forward at the next volley of attacks. His voice was loud, and his gaze harsh at his targets. They wanted to provoke him, and get him to slip up. He couldn’t resist talking back, just a little. Distraction worked on people… maybe it would work on the sim too. ”You don’t have to be mean just because you were too late with your moves, man… the real Mei would have hit that shot.”

“Of course I have to be mean, it’s the only thing that penetrates your thick skull, unlike Haven who is penetrated by anything that moves. Do you really think what you have is real? Wasn't it all a little too easy? Think, Rory! Think! She probably brings someone new home to roost each night. You were just easy, you were convenient. She doesn't actually care about you. You were today's worm and tomorrow she’ll fly away the second things get hard. Haven already has her bags packed in case she doesn't like how things go with the Foundation. Four years here means nothing to her, she’s always had one wing out the door, ready to run.”

That... that couldn't be true.

Rory's heart dropped, as he remained ready to pounce in a direction the second Mei made a move. He stared her down, his body language screaming that he was ready. A fist remained clenched, knees bent and one hand touching the grates. But the slightly agape mouth and wide eyes were enough of a sign that the words had gotten to him. He hated that it knew... and he wished he could just shove it down. But in that momentary instant, he couldn't help but feel it was true.

But it didn't matter if it was true or not.

Rory's mouth closed, he grit his teeth, and he never let his eyes leave Mei for a moment in the brief staredown. He would ask Haven about it later... but until then, no matter what, they had to live to talk about it.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Nathanael Gloucester

_{Interacting with: @ThatCharacter | Location: Garreg Mach Monastery - Classroom}

---

It seemed the circus was going to be a never-ending show.

Nathanael used to enjoy pleasantries like this, especially when they involved such levity. In the present day, however, such an embarrassing display of social unawareness and a lack of professional etiquette in all parties was enough for the cynicism to return to his mind. It was one thing to consider it a challenge to improve one's skills under an untrained leader. It was truly a full on road-block to learn under so many.

Of course, Jorah took no time to once again embarrass the Leicester Alliance. Nathanael's face formed a deep frown upon his introduction, a clear sign of his discontent. He flashed a look in Clarissa's direction, broadcasting clearly the strain he would be under to follow her desire in playing nice with someone so unbelievably frustrating. Of course, he was not particularly pleased to be playing icebreakers. It was always an awkward affair, in his mind. And full of unnecessary information. He knew who the majority of the people in this room were, by reputation alone. At least now he knew Jorah liked food, Auberon was a zealot, and Kellen did not like surprises. He wasn't sure how he would have survived without such crucial information.

Play nice... stirring the pot will make enemies, not allies.

Nathanael took a breath, lifting his head high and regaining his composure. They were just being friendly, not unlike he once was. Nor his father, even if it did not save him in the end. Nate lifted his gaze, noticing the break in introductions after Kellen. His eyes narrowed in on the man's expressions. It was hard to not piece together his nervousness. Nathanael took no hesitation in standing up as Kellen sat down, giving him a stoic nod. His gaze drifted among his classmates as he spoke plainly. "I am Nathanael Gloucester, heir of the Duchy of Gloucester." He paused for a beat, weighing his options. He had satisfied his basic requirements, but the last thing he wanted was another scolding from Clarissa. It was a waste of all their time. "I am quite fond of histories, and enjoy studying new sword forms." He gave a nod, his body instinctively beginning to sit down at his seat once again.

He did, somewhat unexpectedly, pause halfway. His calculated gaze lifted to settle on Kellen. The man was a bundle of nerves, but he was part of this unit. Nate stared at him as he spoke, his tone still plain and even as he offered, of all things, a joke. "I... am also not fond of surprises."

Commencement: A Farewell to P.R.C.U. [COMPLETE]

Welcome one and all to the electrifying, steamy, Webby Awards for P.R.C.U. Commencement Chapter 1!

I will be your host for this evening, Web.

I wanted to take this time to highlight my totally superior, 100% correct opinions and share some of the love with y'all after such a delightful first chapter of the RP. These awards are not presented in any particular order.

The First Award we have this evening is the coveted Favorite Character award. This does not mean best... because, let's be real, it's Rothschild's world and we are just living in it. When I think Favorite Character, I think of a character and a writer that when I see they've posted, I am excited to read the post and see what's happening. It has a feel good nature, in my mind, but is not without drama or suspense. This award goes to the one and only Katja Kruger written by @Zoldyck. I told Zoldy not too long ago that I have really enjoyed the way this Katja has come into her own... and I've been, admittedly, a bit jealous. While Katja has her flaws and a dark past, she feels the most like the protagonist of this story in my mind. She is kind, empathetic, and always trying to lift everyone up. The natural conclusion of the first chapter seeing this character strength leave her vulnerable and broken in that explosive final post was... well, you can catch my opinions on that post later on.

For the Most Wholesome Character award, I think of a character who is precious. A sweet, sweet summer child who it is actively hard to dislike. Someone who bumbles through life without a care in the world, doesn't understand what is going on half the time, and who can somehow pull off pulling two wildly different women into his orbit. I am, of course, talking about none other than Lorcán Roth as written by @Lord Wraith. Rory and Lorcán have a disturbing amount of similarities in the way they bumble through life, but Lorcán's posts are much more fun to read. Surfer lingo, pratfalls, and sincere wonder and compassion really tie this character together in ways that make him shine. The Lorcán and Rory dynamic is very fun when it comes into play because they are both wholesome, but I feel like Lorcán edges out even my "Himbo with a Heart" by a sizable margin.

This next award can only be explained in a single sentence. If anything happens to Aurora Mitchell, I will kill everyone in this RP and then myself. Aurora, as written by @Melissa, was a tie in my mind for Most Wholesome Character. So I cheated and essentially made a duplicate category. I desperately, whole-heartedly care for Aurora's struggles and am deeply pained every time she retreats into herself. I think Aurora somehow feels the most real of all these characters to me, and I would die for her. If Lorcán and Amma break her heart or if she gets injured/killed off, I do not know if I would emotionally recover.

Take your fucking award, @Rockette. Best Breakout Character. I was so confident I was going to hate Amma Cahors. From personal experience, anyone who walks into a collaborative storytelling project with a character that is edgy and dark and doesn't want to interact with anyone, and I write them off. 99% of the time it doesn't work. I know, because I write those characters a lot. How dare you have the absolute talent to make Amma work? It makes me sick how much every Amma post has me at the edge of my seat. Take your award, but stick around cause you're getting another by the end of this.

Ok... got a little heated. But I like this energy. I get you have a family and responsibilities and a life, but I need more Gil Galahad @Roman. Of the four boys we have, I adore the nuance and depth that we've gotten from Gil so far. Gil is the Best Boy. I straight up do not understand him, and I think that's part of his charm. He is aloof, cool, but has deep emotional connections in his backstory. And I love what you've done with the three Gils. I didn't make it an actual award, but I loved your formatting in the early Gil posts during the beach scene. Stellar work. Get back to writing.

@Hound55... This award is not for Andrew "Banjo" Olyphant. This award is for you as a writer. You, my friend, are the Best Wildcard this side of the Guild. While others gave you a run for your money, everything about every post you write and every comment you make in the Discord throws me for a loop. To some, this may be seen as a negative. But boy do I love chaos. You are a crucial member of this RP, Banjo is the Joker in the deck of Blackjack, and every time we nearly make the same joke in the Discord I feel ten times my age. I expect Banjo to start Banjoing here before too long... Me and Rockette can't be the only ones stirring the pot this whole RP.

You know what's particularly funny? I do not know if Rory and the character at the center of this next award interacted at all in Chapter 1. They've been in the same scenes, we're finally collabing in Chapter 2, and they have the same best friend. There is a whimsee and depth to Harper Baxter's entrance into the RP that blew me away. @Qia, Harper's Intro was my personal vote for Best Solo post of the entire RP. But here, at the superior Webby Awards, you win Best Opening Post. I would use that post as an example, sentence by sentence, of how to introduce a character and lay out their entire personality without wasting any space. I knew who Harper was much quicker than I even knew who Rory was, and I already wrote him in a previous RP.

I am a slut for tropes done well. I know this might not be the award you were expecting or wanting, @PatientBean, but this is a sort of stealth "Favorite Moment" award in its own way. I spent my time last night just trying to recall, by memory, moments in this RP that stood out. Calliope de Leon's reaction to the opening ceremony was perhaps the first that came to mind when I tried to think about moments earlier in this RP. Of all the reactions to that first big plot twist, Calliope had my Favorite Reaction. It's a classic scene, and a classic trope. You wrote a great scene in a way that I could visualize perfectly. You have done an excellent job of building up and showing how mature and put together Calliope is, but the moment where she really got to unload and lose control for just a moment was so exciting. But... don't leave just yet. There's more for you coming.

When I read vore, I had a visceral reaction to every sentence. It kept getting worse, and worse, and I had to stop reading for a moment to give myself space to breath and process. @Rockette and @Zoldyck co-wrote my Favorite Post. I straight up could not decide what the Best Collab was before this post dropped. When it did, it was a bomb. I changed votes in several categories, but the first thing I did was list vore as the Best Collaboration. Katja and Amma are both so real and vulnerable in that scene, and it is heartbreaking to see their dynamic go so toxic... but it wasn't out of nowhere. It felt like a build-up. The seeds were planted, the tension rose. And in a sea of heartfelt, romantic scenes between the various love-birds... vore hit like a freight train and then backed up to run us over again. It shit on the idea of making the easy choice. I hate you both a little for making my heart hurt.

To take a swing in a completely different direction... This next award is for the Best Collab Partner I've had in this RP so far. I am sorry to everyone else, but this was always going to @Skai. I felt really bad I couldn't vote for Skai in any of the Best Collab posts, because writing the Raven scenes has been so much fun. Skai and I have been messaging each other for a couple weeks now about this RP while making plans and plots for Rory and Haven, and it has been such a blast. The amount of fun I have writing with Skai is admittedly why the Raven ship has set sail. I've written with a lot of folks, and it has been an absolute pleasure getting to work with Skai in this RP.

The last award I have is less of an award for what has been written so far, but more of a prediction. I am so very much looking forward to what comes next for this character. The Character to Watch for Chapter 2 and hopefully the rest of the RP, in my opinion, is Calliope as written by @PatientBean. Calliope and Banjo are an adorable couple, and while we have seen some cracks in her armor... she's been pretty well-put together so far. But given the events of vore and the plot twist going into Chapter 2... god I am so excited to see the mask slip for Calliope. I really like Bean's style of writing with Calli, and I think things are only going to get better from here.

Now... that is all I've got for you folks. I want to thank each and every one of you who have been riding along on this journey for your hard work and creativity. I appreciate the votes I have received for Rory in Chapter 1, I am deeply appreciative of the love and support. You are all really messing with my Imposter's Syndrome. The problem with running awards like this sometimes is votes feel so close. I wanted to do my own little awards to highlight some of my favorite moments and aspects of everyone's writing. I think we have a really good crew here, and I really want to keep building this story with you all. This is my way of saying Thank You, and I will be returning to being a little gremlin in the Discord now.

I love you all, have a wonderful night/morning/afternoon.

Commencement: A Farewell to P.R.C.U. [COMPLETE]

"I got called in to work early. Hyperpsycho downtown... teleporter. Probably going to be gone a few days. I need you to take the bus this morning... or ee if your mom can drive you."

Cole Tyler finished straightening his tie in the downstairs bathroom, right across from the kitchen. Rory sat at the kitchen counter, finishing his protein shake and trying to parse together the last few questions of his homework. Cole didn't even look at him as he slid back into the kitchen, tossed Rory's half-finished glass into the sink, and plucked a briefcase and a thermos of coffee to head out the door.

"Ok dad... I love you." His words were weak and soft. Cole didn't even grunt in acknowledgement as he took a moment to walk towards the stairs. He called up them. "Honey, twins... Going to be a late night. I'll keep you updated. I love you!" He walked past Rory, briefcase slapping against the latter's back incidentally as Cole Tyler rushed out the garage door. It hurt.

As soon as he heard his father's car peel out of the driveway, a thundering roar of footsteps came rushing down the stairs. Will and Mary were young... middle school, maybe? They had already eaten and gotten dressed into their uniforms for some rich Catholic school downtown. Somewhere prestigious, and where he couldn't get in. Will gave him a smug look as he looked briefly towards Rory's homework, picking up a pencil and writing out a couple numbers and a letter. Rory shook his head. Letters didn't belong in math, just another prank from his little brother. Mary was engrossed in her phone, texting god knows who while posing for a brief selfie on her way out the door. Lastly, Julia Tyler entered into the kitchen. Her phone was nestled between her ear and shoulder as she grabbed her purse from the kitchen island. She flashed a dirty look at the dirty glass in the sink, before snapping at Rory and pointing to it wordlessly. Her face quickly shifted to a soft smile as her voice grew bubbly for the person on the phone. "Of course... yes, sir, I've just got to drop the kids off and I'll be right there... I read the file last night..."

"Hey, mom, uh... dad's already-" His voice was soft, defeated, awkward. It felt wrong.

Julia snapped her fingers again, placing a single finger up to her lips. She was on the phone, it was about work. She knew he knew not to interrupt her. "Uh, huh... Alright, see you soon." Will and Mary were already in the car, buckled, and Julie was opening the garage door. She hung up the phone, sliding it into her pocket, and placed one hand on the door. "Whatever it is, Rory, ask your father. I'm going to be late to work." Her shift in tone, and the exhaustion in her voice sunk the boy's shoulders. She quickly shut the door behind her, leaving Rory alone in the house. He looked down at his homework, trying to make sense of Will's writing for what only felt like a second. He shoved his notebook into his bag, and walked over to rinse out the glass before shoving it onto the top rack of the dishwasher. His chest felt heavy as he turned the corner and opened the front door. Outside, he saw the bus going down the street in the opposite direction. The weight in his chest grew heavier.

---

"What the fuck, Rory, are you kidding me?" Rory's mother's face was contorted with barely concealed rage as he sat frozen at the kitchen table. She was not a tall woman, but in this moment towered over him. He felt his cheeks grow hot, his chest heavy, his breathing painful and labored. Julia slammed a hand against the kitchen table. "Look at me! What in the Hell were you thinking?"

Rory paused, eyes glancing up towards her, but only for a moment. Even the glance was enough to nearly send him over the edge. He swallowed hard, teeth clenched to keep his emotions from seeping out of his pores. _{"I tried to ask you-"}

"Oh, it's my fault you missed the bus, Rory!? You're in high school! Was I supposed to hold your hand and walk you to the bus stop?!" She paused for a moment, staring at him expectantly. Rory stared at the table. Julia took a few steps away, taking a deep breath as she held back more insults. She turned back. "Even if you missed the bus... you couldn't text Tom and see if his mom could drive you? Or Kareem? Or did you just not care?" Her question was rhetorical. Rory didn't bother answering, or justifying. He hadn't spoken to Tom since he found out he was a Hype. And Kareem had moved the last summer to Vancouver. But he knew if he said that, she would just ask why he didn't ask any of his other friends. And he didn't have the heart to tell her he didn't have anyone else.

Julia sighed, sitting down across from Rory at the table. Her voice softened slightly, the anger subsiding to a cold disappointment. "You're getting too old for this, Rory. Your father and I are very busy. We're trying so hard to give you and your brother and your sister the best life we can. And it hurts us when you can't even do the bare minimum, Rory..." She paused, her gaze seeming to stare almost through him. He almost instinctively looked up to meet that gaze. "Let's put it this way... do you know what happens when you don't play your position?"

"The team suffers." The response was automatic. She didn't watch enough of his games to ever be specific with her analogies.

"Your team is your family, Rory... and you're making them suffer."

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Southern Plateau - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Hope in Hell #2.003: I Want to Run and Hide

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Haven - @Skai}

Previously: Feathers on the Court

Rory blinked himself awake, taking a moment to decipher dream from reality. Was it a dream? Or felt more coherent... more like a memory. But he couldn't place the specifics. That almost made it worse.

The second sensation Rory noticed as he stretched his arms were the soft fingertips of Haven interlocked in his own, gently slipping out of his grasp before he fully processed they were there. His brow furrowed, as he parsed through the memories he had. She was more clothed now, and lying in her own sleeping bag next to him. He felt a small wave of embarrassment as he looked over his naked form. Was it all just a dream? No... no, he had the same thought the night before. What they shared was real, quite real. A small smile crept on his face. She had held on to him as they slept. His heart surged at the thought.

Of course, it lasted only a moment. He didn't place much stock in his dreams... but the one the night before felt foreboding. He didn't even notice the irony as he quietly slipped from his sleeping bag, sliding on a fresh pair of boxers and shorts. He picked up his shoes, draped a t-shirt over his shoulder and walked towards the tent flap, his finger hovering near the zipper. But he stopped himself from opening it, looking over his shoulder to Haven's slumbering form. She looked borderline angelic, the way her ruffled wings were tucked in tight next to her and her hair was out of sorts.

No... no. Not this time.

Rory sighed, setting his shoes down and tossing his shirt on top of his duffel bag. He laid out on top of his sleeping bag, curling up next to Haven as he draped a hand over her side, being as careful as possible to avoid touching her wings. He nestled himself up next to her as close as possible, resting his head into her outstretched arm. He closed his eyes, and focused on the sound of their breath and the sensation of being so close. A smile spread across his lips as he let himself relax.

The sound of Rory's movements had begun to wake Haven from her sleep long before Rory laid down. Her wings shifted behind her, gathering closer to her body. They grazed his arm, unaware that it was that close to them. Her eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sight of Rory's smile and his face so close to hers. She felt the weight of his arm on her waist and the feeling of his skin against her feathers. To her surprise, she didn't immediately flinch at the touch. Yet her wings still slowly recoiled, keeping inches away from human contact as they'd grown used to doing. Maybe one day she'd learn to trust another's touch in such a sensitive spot. If there was one person she could think of that she'd allow to get close enough, it would be Rory.

Being careful not to move a muscle in the arm Rory laid against, Haven leaned her head forward to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. She smiled at him as she returned her head to it's spot on the sleeping bag. She could tell he was awake by his breathing, but she worried that speaking too soon would mess with the peaceful silence they remained in. Plus, that blissful look on his face was everything to her. She'd never seen him look so carefree.

A jolt shot up Rory's arm and into his spine the second he felt feathers graze his skin. He knew how big of a deal even such a small gesture was, coming from her. His eyes lazily opened, and he nodded as he saw Haven's wings recoil from his hand. The warmth of her kiss caused him to lean forward longingly, planting his own kiss on her cheek as he nestled himself even closer. He moved his hand off her waist and lifted it to her other cheek, guiding her head so he could look into her eyes. His voice was soft, borderline dreamlike still as it was clear he was still in the process of waking up. "Good Morning... sleep well?" There was a soft cheekiness as he wiggled his eyebrows to accentuate his question.

There was a silent thank you in her eyes as she looked into his, but her wide grin was answer enough to his question. "I haven't slept so comfortably next to someone in a long time." She began as her hand lifted to take his into hers. She intertwined their fingers between them. "How did you sleep?"

He paused, his smile fading slightly. He wouldn't be technically lying if he just said he slept well. Hell, it was a wonderful night of rest. And the only issue with his slumber was outside of her control. There was no need to ruin a good thing. He looked over her face, the smile naturally widening as he just nodded. "I slept... I really like falling asleep like this and waking up next to you." It was blunt dodge, but not at all untrue.

Rory looked up towards the top of the tent. It wasn't too bright outside yet... it was clearly early. Conditioning barred him from sleeping in even after a night like that. He turned his gaze back to Haven, his happy grin slowly replaced with a smirk. "It's still early... we've got a while before breakfast or the Trials..."

Haven noticed the smirk on his face, the double meaning behind his words sending a pink hue to her cheeks. "We should warm up with a run, before we warm up that way." Plus, she had picked up on the subtle way his smile dropped. It seemed like he had something else on his mind that troubled him. There was also something she wanted to ask him when they weren't tangled up together. "The run will clear our minds and get the endorphins running."

Rory playfully sighed at Haven's suggestion. He didn't want to leave this spot by her side, even if he knew they would have to move eventually. His smile widened a little, though. He didn't usually have company on his morning runs. He had always thought he caught a glimpse of Haven in the sky some mornings, and the thought of being able to share in a morning routine felt reassuring. This would be different. "Fine... a little less hot, but it's probably for the best." He let go of Haven's hand and quickly lifted himself up. He offered a hand to his partner to help her up.

Haven grinned as she looked up at him. She slid her hand into his and squeezed before letting his strength pull her to her feet. "Thanks."

"You should turn around while I change, or we won't make it out of the tent." She teased him as she turned towards her duffle bag. She knelt down in front of it to pull out a running set from inside. As she stood, she glanced over her wings to raise her eyebrows at him. "I mean it, Rory. You can see it again later tonight."

He hated that she was right. The slight blush in his cheeks from staring at hers as she dug through her bag was a dead enough give away. "I'll be outside. Trying not to think about you chang-" He didn't finish the thought, cutting himself off abruptly as he shook his head. He reached down to grab his shoes, fresh socks already stuffed inside. He opened up the tent flap and stepped outside. He took a moment to stretch out his arms, which were still sore from the day before. He was going to need a rest day when this was all said and done. Maybe he could-

She said tonight.

Rory's blush grew brighter, and he cleared his throat softly. He snapped his fingers , clapped his hands... anything to get the energy out. He felt suddenly restless. This was a thing, now. They were really a thing. He grinned like an idiot as he sat on the ground and pulled on his socks, followed by his shoes.

Haven's laughter followed Rory out of the tent. She decided to change quickly, in case he changed his mind. There was a broad smile on her face as she pulled on the fresh shorts and sports bra. She could hear him outside. His movements had her feeling quite restless, too. Until something dawned on her that made her whole body flush.

"Rory... Can you hear me from out there?" She asked as she tugged on a loose tank. Her wings carefully slipped through the opening on the sides.

"Yeah... what's up?" Rory called out over his shoulder, choosing to remain a little softer in tone. He knew about her hearing, and didn't feel like disturbing the rest of the team's beauty rest as he basked in the dawn's glow.

There was a moment of silence from within the tent as Haven quickly pulled on her socks and shoes. Then the slow sound of a zipper being undone behind him. Haven emerged from within the tent, her feathers ruffled behind her and a flush on her cheeks as she gave him a look that was as amused as it was embarrassed. "We, uh..." She stepped up to him, her voice low as she got on her tip toes to speak into his ear. "We didn't sound-proof the tent last night."

Rory's brows raised in confusion for a moment. They weren't really required to sound proof the tents, it was usually just a little easier to help people fall asleep. After their night together, he didn't really care about noise-

The realization hit him like a brick wall. His cheeks grew hot as he turned to face Haven. But after a moment, he felt a small laugh boil up in his throat. He covered his mouth with his hand, giggling softly for a second. When he regained his composure, he placed a hand on Haven's shoulder, smiling down at her. "Well... on the bright side, I don't think we have to tell anyone about us." His smile was warm and sincere. In this moment, he didn't particularly care. The embarrassment would come with a certain loud-mouthed Aussie later, that was guaranteed. "We'll just have to be careful about noise next time, yeah? Don't want to make anyone too jealous this early in the game." He was confident, and remained unaware of the double meaning in his words.

The two shared red cheeks for a moment, until Rory began to giggle. The sound of it was worth the embarrassment. Haven beamed up at him as he mentioned telling people about "us". She shook her head, her eyes darting around the camp. "Next time we won't be surrounded by tents, thank the heavens."

She took his hand from her shoulder and began to tug him along. "Let's get going before the others come out. I don't know if I can face them right now." Rory should be the only one to see her blush like this, anyways. As much as she urged him to continue, the glint in her eyes revealed that she wasn't ashamed of their noise. She was proud of it in fact. That wasn't something the others also needed to overhear, though.

Rory smiled a goofy grin as he let Haven drag him towards the edge of the camp. He noticed that glint in her eye... or more notably, the lack of shame or embarrassment he might expect. Once they broke the tent line, nearing the closest forest path, Rory broke from Haven's grasp and started jogging past her, turning around briefly to wink at her as he did so. He kept a reasonable pace, not pushing himself as hard as he might usually. He enjoyed the stark morning air as he ran, making sure to slow or speed up to keep up with Haven. It felt... odd, to no longer be alone during his usual time of solitude. But it was a welcome change. He couldn't help but smile as the two jogged through the forest trails of the Southern Plateau. Rory slowed to a stop after a half hour of jogging, keeping his breath slow and steady as he took the stop as an opportunity to stretch his arms. He kept his gaze on Haven, soft smile on his lips. "How ya feeling, Wings?"

Haven took the opportunity to stretch out her wings. She'd been running with them tight against her back to avoid any drag they'd cause open. Once she'd furled them again, she began to stretch her legs against a nearby log. She smirked in Rory's direction at the nickname. Her voice and breathing was as even as when they had begun their routine. "Great, but I'm not sure why you're holding back for me. The view was awesome when you were in front of me, though." She teased before her smirk softened. "It's nice to run with someone for a change."

She finished her stretches, moving to approach him. her head felt much clearer now, so hopefully he felt the same. "Can I... ask you a question? About last night?" Her hand reached for his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We both want this to be more than what we're used to, but I want to know how you feel about something before we continue." There was a small pause before she managed the words. Her tone was even, not a hint of anger or jealousy held in it. Yet it was obvious that she was nervous to say them.

"I know that Mei had asked you to the dance on the beach. So, I'm not upset that you've agreed to go with her. I'm glad you made up, actually." She tilted her head to the side, her lips thinning for a moment before asking the question. "Do you think any feelings you may have for her will affect... us?"

Rory's heart sank as Haven mentioned the dance. She must have heard, somehow, that he was supposed to go to the dance with Mei. He wasn't sure who could have possibly told her. But, more than anything, her final question stung the most. He instinctively pulled his hand away from Haven's, eyes narrowing as he looked her over. The question was a fair one, and it hurt more as he hesitated. His feelings for Mei were mostly physical... but she was less the concern, in his mind. There was someone else who came to mind.

"I don't think you have to worry, Haven." His tone was somber as he turned away, arms folded up over his bare chest. "I don't have the same connection with Mei. I don't feel the way I feel with you with anyone else. Some things are similar, a lot are different. But this is something else." He paused. He felt that same crushing anxiety from earlier build in his chest. Haven didn't ask about Katja... but it felt wrong to not say anything.

But if he did say something, would she want to stick around?

"The feelings I have for Mei aren't going to get in the way of us, Barnes. I know I'm an-" Something caught in his throat. A word. The same word his brother used often for him. The same word his father used. Rory grit his teeth, closing his eyes for a moment. He released the tension just enough to continue. "You don't have to worry about anyone else." He squeezed his arms tighter, as if desperately trying to hold himself together. He couldn't look at her. He was already keeping secrets, and it was day one.

Like father, like son.

Haven felt her muscles bunching up as Rory looked her over with narrowed eyes. It was like she'd hit him. And after all of her experiences, her instincts were telling her that he might hit her back. She knew he wouldn't. So as he turned from her, her body relaxed. Then his words found their mark in her chest.

First guilt ran its course. She felt like she shouldn't have asked. But that was ridiculous. She needed to know. Aurora had told her to be careful with her heart, and this was what she was doing to keep it safe. Then he cut himself off, and the soft part of Haven's heart yearned to reach out for him again. It soon became obvious that he was holding something back. Did it have to do with the invisible weight on his shoulders, or was there more that he didn't want to say to her? Was she okay only knowing half of the truth?

Haven slowly approached him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she pressed her cheek against his back. His heart was thunderous in his chest and she could feel the tension in his own muscles. She clasped her hands together in front of him to make sure he wouldn't pull away again. "It's okay, Rory... I trust you." She said softly, her eyes fixated on the sky above them. "I know you'll tell me what's eating at you when you're ready."

The second Haven held him, the weight in his chest grew tighter. She knew he was holding something back. She trusted him, when he was the one keeping secrets. He let out a long sigh, his shoulders hunching forward as he deflated. He didn't care if this was going to ruin things anymore. "I confessed to Katja yesterday." His words felt like poison, but his tone remained somber. "It was more like she found out, when I asked for advice about you. She doesn't feel the same about me..." He paused. Haven's arms wrapped around him... it wasn't as overwhelming as Katja's hug. But the latter did the same thing when he pulled away the previous night.

He didn't want to know what that meant.

"I don't want to fuck things up with you, Haven. I'm in, I'm on your team and I'm not looking to get traded. But things between me and Kat are... complicated, now. I think. But she's important to me, and we're both Chimeras and compete often. But I don't want to wake up next to her." The words came flooding out. He didn't have time to think or parse them. He lifted his hands up to Haven's wrapped around his waist, gripping her hands in his but not daring to move them. "I want things to work with us. I don't intend on letting anyone get between us, but I know this is a lot. And I wouldn't blame you for walking away, Feathers." He let go of Haven's hands, his arms falling back to his sides.

Haven had never thought that Katja and Rory could be an item. If anything she'd seen them as siblings. Always teasing, talking game, and wrestling. Well... the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. And he had confessed to her, and she didn't feel the same. There was solace in that, although it still made her heart hurt to think that he had confessed to another girl hours before they confessed to each other.

He didn't want to wake up next to Katja. He was on her team, all in. Those words were the only thing that kept her close to him. The only reason she didn't turn around to take off into the sky. He wouldn't blame her for walking away? She'd blame herself, if she left the man she was falling for behind.

"I'm not going anywhere, Rory." She turned to press her forehead into his back. "Things are complicated now, but I think we can work through it."

She squeezed his waist before moving away to step in front of him. "We have to be honest with each other if we want this to work, yeah? Just, don't call me Barnes again unless you're upset with me." She attempted a humorous smile to lighten the situation.

Rory nodded solemnly as he listened. He knew this wasn't what either of them wanted for their first day together. He didn't expect any of this to get so deep. Haven's joke helped a little, fishing out a small grin from his lips and a nod. He had plenty of names to call her... and her first name was a beautiful enough sound for when he needed to be serious. But, he also knew an invitation to ease the tension. "I suppose I can do that. Just don't get upset with me for being a bird-brain, ok?" His smile was weak, but still warm.

He really needed to get his shit together, for her sake.

Haven playfully smacked his arm. "Of course not. I should know you have trouble with words by now, anyways." She teased back with a grin.

"Ready to get going again, then? I won't take it easy on you this time."

Rory smiled, taking one final chance to lift up his knees and stretch his legs. He took one final breath. Stop overthinking. You mess up when you get in your head. He let the thoughts slip from his head, focusing on Haven. He flashed a grin. "Ok, ok... enjoy the view."

With that, he immediately took off, breaking into a brisk jog. He flashed a cocky grin over his shoulder, a playful challenge.

The gloves were off.

Haven marveled at the muscles in his back as they glistened in the early sunlight. The earlier confusion wore off quickly. With a grin, Haven jolted into action. Her legs made catching up to him a quick and easy effort. She tapped his shoulder with her hand as she overtook him. Her expression as amused as it was flirtatious. She slowed up just as she made it five feet ahead of him. Soon she was running next to him as they continued back to the campsite.

---

^{| Later, at the Trials}

Rory was silent, closing his eyes as he finished adjusting his A.R. suit. Ritual was important before a big match... and he needed to show off for Will and Mary. Even if only one of them would even potentially appreciate it. He gave two slaps to his chest, a ritual he had picked up in high school while wrestling. It helped him to stimulate some blood flow and get things pumping... or at least, that's what he told himself. A placebo was only good if you never bothered to check it's accuracy. As the doors closed behind them, Rory couldn't help but let a smirk cross his face. He was ready.

Then... black screen. Red text. Sterile halls, empty classrooms, psych-ward-aesthetic with half-empty syringes. He felt his brow knit together as he stared at it all in confusion. The chanting voices were a creepy touch... and really sold the vibe. Rory's face lost some of its tension as he looked things over. Lorc and Amma were taking things a bit seriously... he didn't take either of them for the scared type. But, he knew enough about the Trials to know that a maze was always a given. His hand instinctively reached behind him, towards Haven. Was Haven the type to be scared by haunted houses? He raised an eyebrow as he inspected some of the finer elements of the simulation. Amma ran off, like an amateur. They would have to find her later. In the meantime, Rory spoke up.

"Hey, uh... I'm always down for a themed haunted house, but this seems like a bit much. I would have went with something more, like, action movie... less horror movie, you know?" He almost instinctively felt a look or two draw his way, and he held his free hand up in defense. "Hey, just trying to give notes, ok?"

As per usual... Rory was not on the same page.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Nathanael Gloucester

_{Interacting with: @Achronum @Obscene Symphony | Location: Garreg Mach Monastery - Golden Deer Classroom}

---

Nathanael's gaze sharpened as Isolde was dragged closer by Oskar. Given the latter's behavior, and their raport with Jorah, he was going to be another annoyance to deal with on a regular basis. But as Nate focused on Isolde, something didn't add up. He stared down the bridge of his nose at her, and she... did nothing. No, not exactly nothing. She was shaking like a leaf. He raised a single eyebrow as he lowered his head, staring st her straight on. She wasn't belligerent or indignant... she was afraid. Isolde Ordelia, daughter and heir to the traitorous snake known as Duke Ordelia, was afraid of the young son of the man her father murdered. This... wasn't right. He averted his gaze of her as she turned to flee.

Nate's mood soured, but not towards further contempt. The pressure in his chest spiked. Honorable men didn't make others quake in fear. That was reserved for monsters. Monsters like the one who killed his father in cold blood.

Isolation had not been kind to Nathanael. It certainly did not make him kind.

Jorah's sudden contact made the blood rush to Nathanael's head. He recoiled, clearly startled and borderline fearful. He had let his guard down for a moment. He took a half step backwards. Jorah had taken it as a jest... or at least, that's the way he chose to play his cards. A respectable choice, that let them both walk away with minimal damage. Of course, as Nate's gaze crossed over his fellow students, it was clear that damage had already been done. His face remained blank, nearly vacant as he kept the tightness in his chest under wraps.

This was fine. People were a distraction anyways. Besides, the more they hated him, the less they would hold back on him.

Of course, Clarissa's words were thinly veiled. To others, her words were not unreasonable: he would, most likely, by the first of those present to take the title of Duke and serve on the roundtable. It would make sense for the two to speak. But he knew her well enough: she wanted to know if he was going to be a liability. Or, perhaps more directly, she wished to correct his behavior before he sullied her reputation. He couldn't blame her.

Nathanael gave Clarissa a short nod, beckoning towards the door after grabbing his materials. "Of course... I understand. I will follow your lead."